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Tim was sat in his flat, his body swollen and twitching. Cole was on his knees, slowly licking Tim’s 10 inch cock. “So........” Tim said as he shut his eyes. “Your telling me you’ve been spying on me for Kyle. Little Kyle. Bottom boy Kyle. And he’s now turned himself into some type of musclebound freak. A walking roid factory. And your little growth spurt is thanks to his super cum?” Cole grunted yes as he kept slurping Tim’s cock. Coles recently enhanced shoulders and veiny arms visible. He now looked like a pro bodybuilding freak, but still tiny at the feet of Tim. “And now your coming clean because your scared of him? He’s now drunk on his power and out of control?” Cole popped Tim’s Titan prick out of his mouth. “Yea. He’s insane. It was all about outmuscling you. But he’s beaten up half the gym guys and whores in the area. He almost killed one guy who didn’t want to give him more gear!” Tim thought about that level of roid rage. It made him fucking horny. Tim grabbed Cole by the neck and lifted him to the same height as him as he stood. “Your a worm Cole. You thought serving Kyle would make you a beast. Pathetic. Only addiction to being a mass freak can do THIS”. With that, Tim flexed his now 31 inch arm. GGGGGREERRRRRRRR FUCK YES BITCH. Tim tossed Cole to the ground. “I want to meet Kyle. If he’s finally the freak I need, then he may finally give this super body a challenge. Oooooooooo I can feel by body wanting to flex to my max. Last my max. Ahhhhh fuck Cole, I’m READY TO HULK. Tell me where he is”. Tim’s cock added a further inch as he became overcome by the idea of testing his full power against the roided out Super Kyle. Cole couldn’t believe the idea of a muscle showdown was forcing Tim’s body into some type of freaky growth - maybe all the roids are now such a part of him that he is making his own, like a teen making more and more cum. Cole looked at Tim, more horny and excited than ever. “I’ll take you to him”. As they left, Cole text his boyfriend - “Ethan. It’s happening. They are going to meet. It’s finally going to happen. We will get everything we want. The ultimate muscle experiment, and it will be all ours”. —————— Ethan looked at the text and became painfully hard in his shorts. He and Cole had been dating for 6 months, and they knew why they were together - MUSCLE. Cole caught Ethan juicing up after a lifting session, and then watched him run to the showers to jerk off. Cole knew he had found a kindred spirit. A muscle obsessed freak. As Cole spied for Kyle, he started to understand the nature of their growth. He and Ethan were happy to become muscle sluts, mere holes for Tim and Kyle, if it meant that they could finally go beyond iron throwing druggies. Cole just wanted cum, and when Kyle used him as a flashlight, he got his wish. Ethan worshiped Cole’s swollen physic for hours and hours that night. Ethan ended up spraying and licking so much cum off of Cole’s newly shredded abs. However, Ethans muscle slut brain, drowning in growth, came to a sudden realisation. If Cole added 50 pounds of muscle from Kyles cum, what would he became he he drank both these freaks cum AT ONCE. Ethan knew what he had to do. If he got these freaks together, Ethan could become unstoppable. Ethan stood there, in front of the mirror, thinking about what all that super cum could do to him, and suddenly exploded into the hardest and most intense crab flex of his life. “ARRRRRRRRR FUCKKKKK YEA ETHAN. YOUR, OUCHHHHH, GONNA GET, OH HURTS SO NICE, FUCKING HUGE”. Ethans whole body shook in the mirror. His respectable 21 inch arms were covered in veins. He had a shit eating grin ear to ear as he thought about his plan. His growth dream. Would his cock be too swollen to force into Cole’s muscle butt? The thought almost made Ethan cum involuntarily. He slammed his fist into his tight 6 pack to stop him cumming. He moved to his car, on his way to Kyles, to be there for the showdown. —————— Tim stood outside Kyles new place. It was a downtown garage. The only place he could get enough space to convert into a gym for extreme weight. The very sight caused Tim to spit a glob of pre cum into his pants. He took a step and stopped. “No. I want that little shit to see me at my freakiest”. Tim looked around for anything to help him pump up. Then his eyes fell on a great opportunity- a Land Rover. “WATCH THIS LITTLE MAN” Tim yelled at Cole as he sprinted at the car, his track suit already threatening to burst. His rock hard shoulder smashed into it, creating a dent a meter in. Tim’s eyes rolled back in his head as his powerhouse body pumped more and more testosterone around to force more mass. His truck suit started to rip as he forced his hands under the car and lifted it clear over his his. “I AM A MONSTER!” His suit exploded. His 11 inch cock slammed into his abs and leaked over a pint of pre cum. Cole vomited. Tim was being watched by Ethan from a distance, and Super Kyle by the window. Kyle grinned evilly as he watched Tim, as he unloaded his 12th syringe into his mutating body. Tim looked down at Cole and broke out in the biggest and most cocky grin. “Can you believe what’s happening to me, Cole” Tim whispered excitedly. “My body is actually producing roids within me. I’m getting more jacked by the second. I can FEEL the power pumping faster in my veins. I’m a muscle mmmmmmmmmmmmm monster”. Tim turned his eyes to the garage. In few swift steps which shook the ground, he was at the door. He raised his arms, trying not to cum as he looked at the vein splashed 33 inch boulders, and he smashed the doors in. In the middle of the most hard core gym in history, was Kyle. “Oooooooo yea Timmy” said Kyle as he looked at him. Tim was shocked. He knew Kyle was no longer that gym bunny, but this was more extreme than he imagined. Kyle had clearly just hulked out, as a result of the 12 used syringes around him. Kyle was breathing hard and heavy, and had an evil smile on his face - his formally handsome face which was now invaded by veins. “Little Timmy........ can (Kyle flexed his left arm) you believe (he flexed his right) what a freak (he popped his pecs) you’ve made me”. Kyle was almost as wide as he was tall. His sick 12 pack was covered in veins, his 35 inch arms looked like they could strangle superman. Tim was almost afraid, but he wanted, no, he NEEDED this. A chance to push his alpha body to the limit. Someone to force him bigger. “Kyle. You are jacked. But you will never be more than a protein snack for me. Watch my power you CUNT” With that, Tim screamed, and exploded into a most muscular. “AWWRRRRRRRR”. Tim was foaming at the mouth as he flexed harder and harder, willing more power onto his frame. “GROW YOU BASTARDS, GROWWWWWWWWWWW FOR YOUR MONSTERRRRRRR”. Kyle became as hard as rock as he watched Tim swell beyond any human bodybuilder. Kyles chemical factory body was leaking pre cum on the floor like a tap. With that, the two Titans charged at each other. Neither noticing that Ethan was watching them from behind the weight rack. Both wrapped their arms around the other, using force that would crush a stone statue. Neither could deny, their cocks were so hard it was painful. The sheer testosterone and muscle on muscle action was pushing them close to the edge of sanity smashing orgasms. Suddenly, Ethan made his move. Before Tim or Kyle saw him, he was there, just as they both lost control. Their alpha cocks both erupted in gallons of cum, the most testosterone filled serum in the world. And Ethan gazzeled all of it.

Hello guys, it's been a long time since I posted a story, I was very busy latest months and hard to hold on to writing (imagining a story is easy, writing it is more difficult) but the desire to post a new hot story was stronger. So this story was a commission that someone asked me few months ago. But the story will probably more longer than I previewed so for to avoid to make you wait again for several months or me to loose motivation, I decided to split it in several parts. I hope you will still enjoy this first chapter. As usual, all reviews are welcome, even negatives. This story is based on the character of Harvey Kinkle of the old cartoon "Sabrina The Animated Series". In one of episodes (called Harvzilla because at the end, he tranforms himself in a dragon like Godzilla), he uses a magical spray and becomes more and more muscular. Fun fact, I saw this series when I was younger and weirdly, I remembered perfectly of this episode in particular, I wonder me why..... mmmmmh maybe because of that ). Oh yes and of course, this story takes times several years after the official series (so yes, Harvey is over 18y old !) I also warn than when it's a commission, so I try to respect the desire of the one who asked me this commission (so here, he wanted a gay relationship even if in the serie Harvey was in love of Sabrina, so don't be surprised if it diverges from the serie) Again, don't hesitate to give me your opinions, it will allow me to make the following parts even better. Enjoy ! ========================= Part 1: The promise ========================= I was preparing myself for my wrestling match. I practice this sport for a few years now. However, I don't have the body of a wrestler. I was skinny, average tall, 5'10", and weak. Fun fact: my nickname was Harvzilla but I didn't have anything of "Godzilla", on the contrary, I should have been called "Weakzilla". But I don't know, I love this sport. Even if I lose often. And for not to change... I will probably lose again today: I heard my opponent was new in this college, but he was already famous. I really ask me why. Ok, this is time. I put my white shirt and my green tank top and I went to the field. When I arrived on the field, the hall was crowded. What the fuck ? Usually, there weren't as many people... and I don't think there were here for me. I was starting to warm up when I heard the public shouting. What the fuck ? I looked the entrance. I don't know describe what I felt at this moment... I was immediately hypnotized by those blue eyes, this perfect nose, this amazing jawline, with a perfect mouth, his blond hair seemed divine. And his skin... Gooosh, he had a natural tan. Never I had seen a so beautiful face like this. And it was just the beginning... because there was not only his face which was incredibly beautiful. His body... HO-LY FUCK...HOLY MOTHER FUCKING FUCK ! We were almost same tall mmmmh although not, he was taller but what was sure, that was we didn't have the same weight and for cause: below this angelic face, there is a fucking muscular neck, which was almost wider than his head and this neck was surrounded by two mountains that came out of his back, his shoulders were canonballs, his sleeves were very tight cause his two big ripped guns, probably 18 inches, nice veins were browsing them, his forearms were so fucking muscular and venous, and fuuuuuuuuuuuck: bigger than my arms, his pecs were two enormous balloons, which pushed clearly against his shirt and tank top, his nipples were clearly visible and were obviously pointing down. Despite his singlet, I could see clearly six bumps (and they were not flexed !), perfectly symmetricals. Gooosh ! I'm going to avoid kicking this brick wall muscle. I could also see his adonis betl, cut to the axe. Below, his bulges suggested the size of his "package" and obviously, it was an XXL package. Next then came his legs, hem sorry, his tree trunks. I could see the bumps of his quads trought his short. And his calves were like two boulders implanted under his skin. Goooooooosh ! It was not possible, I must have been in the wrong sports hall. Was I to a wrestling match or a bodybuilding contest ? Because this god could clearly participate and win the first place very easily. The referee started the match. I caught his hands and I tried to push him but fuuuuuck he didn't move, even not only one inch. Personally, I used my whole strength but him, he seemed to not provide the slightest effort. Goooosh, I was totally surpassed by his strength. Then, very easily he started to push me backward. I tried to resist but nothing to do. He seemed amused by the situation because he fixed me, in smiling abut not badly, rather interested. He stopped, did one or two steps back; waited few seconds, then he smiled and restarted to push me. But now, he forced really. I couldn't do nothing, I was absolutely overwhelmed... and the next second I was out of circle. Shit, one point for him... The second round started, I tried to put him on the ground, so I surrounded him. And shiiiit, his muscles were so fucking hard, so warm. I couldn't help to feel his amazing abs. I'm sure he noticed because he has had a little laugh. Of course, he didn't move, not even a bit. And suddenly... I was on the ground. I didn't understand what happened. He lifted me as I weighted absolutely nothing and the second after, I was on the ground. Then he belted me. I tried to escape me but nothing do. I could feel his enormous weight on me, I was a fucking stick compared to him. And my shoulders touched the ground. The match was over... Of course, I already lost but never like this. I was absolutely powerless against him. He could have crush me if he wanted. I had lost but weirdly, I had loved this match. Really loved. I had loved to feel his body, this amazing and powerful body and I don't know but I think he noticed it and... I think he loved too. He walked towards me and shooked my hand, welll, more exactly, he broke my hand. Shit, his strength was so incredible. "Nice match !" he said in smiling. Oh fucking god, even his voice was amazing. Strong and deep, like his godlike body. "Eeehh... thanks..." Nice match ? I have been pulverized. He has literally played with me like a cat with a mouse. "Don't worry hahaha. You will win maybe one day" he said in laughing. "What ?" "You reaction. I know what you think: I have been pulverized isn't ?" "Wha...But how do you..." "I'm used to it. And don't worry, it will not be our last match. You can still enjoy hahaha !" Oh shit, he has noticed. I turned all red. Then he added. "And sooner than you think..." with a strange look. "What ?" "Don't worry, you will see... very soon" And he went with his coach. "Well Harvey... you are sorely lacking in training, as usual" said my coach, disappointed. "Yeah......" "Well, go shower, we talk about this ... carnage... later" Ten minutes later, I was in the showers. Weirdly, I should be disappointed by this match, one more defeat, however I don't know why but I was only able to think about one thing: Pedro. I remembered the moment where I saw him, his godlike body, his godlike muscles, his angelic face. Goooosh. My heart was beating quickly, I felt hot. But why ? Why did I feel this for this guy ? The only time I felt the same thing, it was when I saw Sabrina for the first time. And then I understood: was I just... in love ? In love of Pedro ? But... I mean, Pedro is a boy and... No, it's not possible, I can't... but I couldn't finish my phase when I heard: "Hello !" Th...this voice ?! I was so in my thoughts that I didn't hear him coming. Pedro ? Pedro was here, next to me ? I turned my head and...... HOLY MOTHER FUCKING SHIT OF FUCKING GOD OF FUCKING SHIT OF FUCKING GOD. Yes, Pedro was next to me, under the shower and obviously... naked. And yes, I was not wrong, really not: this guy was a FUCKING GOD ! Blue eyes His head was surrounding by huge traps, his shoulders were canonballs, his arms were so huge, 18 inches at least, with a big vein, and in talking of veins, his forearms were covered with it. His pecs were two balloons and below, there was six fucking boulders which exploded out of his stomach, perfectly symetrical. His adonis belt seemed to be cut with an ax, with an incredible set of veins. My eyes widened when I saw his "monster". Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck ! Look this dick ! Look this FUCKING DICK ! It...it wasn't humanly possible... Holy crap ! His legs looked like trees, ripped, venous, covered of muscular bumps and his calves were two fucking boulders. Even his feet was inhuman. "This too, I'm used to it hahaha" he said in laughing. "What ?" "You've been looking at me from head to toe for 2 minutes" he said in smiling. Oh crap ! I turned all red again. "But yeah, I understand you, it's amazing isn't ?" "What ?" "This one, it's amazing isn't ?" he said in flexing his 18" gun. Holy shit, I could feel my heart beat very quickly and above all, I was totally horny... but how can you not be horny by this perfection ? And what he says didn't help me. "Do you want to feel ?" Oh crap, oh fucking crap. I was hard instantly ! Shit Harvey, calm down, calm down, he must not notice it. "Y...Y...Yeah". I swallow and approached to him. My hand landed on his amazing mountain. Oh crap, I was right: hard as steel. "So, do you like ?" he said in smiling. Shit ! Shit shit shit ! I was going to cum ! But no Harvey, out of the question, you must no cum, you must no cum you MUST NO c... Unfortunately, I saw three milky jets come to smash against his brick wall abs. At this moment, I think i turned redder than a tomato. Oh crap, oh fucking crap, oh fucking shit of fucking crap ! "........................." he looked me in saying nothing. Crap, I'm dead. I'm fucking dead. Then he approached to me. You are dead Harvey, you are fucking dead. From red I went to blue. But what happened next, I would never have imagined it. He placed hi hands behind my head, he looked me, right in the eyes and... he kissed me. I remained stoic during few seconds. He was kissing me ? HE was kissing ME ? Pedro WAS KISSING ME ??? My whole body was shaking, but not of fear, no it was joy and hapiness. Fuuuuuuck, the most improbable scene I had imagined was happening !!!! He broke the kiss. "I told you that you would see soon haha" Oh crap, never I would imagine this. "Well, do you want to continue ?" he said me. I looked him for few seconds... and I threw myself on him. Honestly, I wasn't myself at this moment. My hand was everywhere, I felt his traps, I went down to his incredible shoulders, feeling each striations, I followed the pipe which roamed his humongous guns then his incredible forearms. I put my hands on his two muscular balloons and he made them bounce ! Oh crap ! I devoured his nipples then my tongue went down, going through every crevice of his amazing sixpack. I followed the incredible markdown of his adonis belt. And finally, I arrived to the boss. I had never sucked a boy. I didn't think I would ever do it. But here, I was in automatic mode. I swallowed mythe head in my mouth and I began to suck. Pedro started to moan. "Oh shit it's so GOOD !" he yelled. I sucked, and sucked, and sucked. Pedro moaned then roared, louder and louder. "OH SHIT OH FUCK AAAAAAH AAAAAH AAAAAH OOOOOOH NNNNNNNGGGGGGHHH OOOOOOOH OOOOOH OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK !!!!!" And Pedro came, and came, dand came. I felt a sticky warm liquid flow down in my throat. Gosh, even his cum was so delicious. He shot about 15 charges before stopping. "Oh fuuuuck.. ha...ha...ha...ha..ha...shit....it...it...was.... absolutely...ha ...ha...ha...ha....amazing" said Pedro in panting. I was going to answer him when suddenly he lifted me, stuck me against the wall and kissed me again. I had still cum in my mouth but he didn't care. Our tongue intertwined. Gosh, evenThen, he turned me to face the wall. "What the fnnnnnnnnnnnnnGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA". I didn't have time to understand when his huge python entered into me. OH FUCK, OH FUCKING FUCK! OH FUCK FUCK FUCK ! It was the first time that I was getting fucked. And gosh, it felt so FUCKING GOOD ! My eyes rolled back, my mouth was open and I was moaning and drooling. The feeling was just unbelievable. Oh fuck, oh shit, oh fucking fuck ! Quickly Pedro accelerated the pace and started to groan, slowy at the beginning then more louder and quickly. I don't know how long it lasted, or how many times I felt his monster enter and leave my ass but each penetration sent me a wave of pure pleasure. It was the most intense feeling I felt of my life and it could continue like that for the eternity. But the pleasure was very too much, fortunately when I was about to pass out, Pedro came. "nnnngggaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!!" I felt again a warm liquid fill my rectum. I was just able to do glutural moans, lost in an extreme pleasure, my eyes were rolling back. It was so INCREDIBLE ! Yes, I would never have imagined that I would live this today. for a moment I thought I was even in a dream but no, it was the reality. Pedro, the most amazing muscle god I have seen of my life, had just fucked me. And then it was over. Pedro was panting. "ha....ha....ha...ha...you see ? I told you you will see soon ! And gosh, you know very well suck dude hahaha !" "Honestly... I didn't know it myself..." Pedro laughed. "But I don't understand, you love me ? Really ? But why ?" "Honestly, I don't know how to explain it either. But when I saw you, instantly, I knew it; I knew it that I wanted to fuck you, but I didn't think it would happen so quickly... and I have to admit that I did not expect the blowjob. It was a true surprise and shit Harvey but you are really fucking good for that" "Haha maybe. So next time could swap places no ?" "Ah ? You want to fuck me ? Interesting" said Pedro with a little smile. "Ok ! But at one condition... "One condition ?" "You will have to earn your place ! You want my ass ? Okay, no problem: we will determine that by a wrestling match, the winner will have the right to claim his trophy ? Ok for these rules ?" "A wrestling match ? But... Pedro, I could never win against you. I mean, you have literally pulverized me today, never I could win against you..." "To be honest, without training, no, you will not to be able to win. Never" he said in flexing his huge 18". Fuck, if I wasn't empty, I'm sure I would have ejaculated again. "But... if you train hard, maybe you will have a chance. So now Harvey, you know what you have to do. Beat me and this ass will be yours... but if you lose I will claim my trophy. Okay ?" "............ Pedro ?" "Yes Harvey ?" "I will fuck you... I will fuck you like you've never been" "Hahaha, I don't want to scare you but nobody ever succeeded. I am always the one who fuck" "Not for longer. I will succeed, I promise you !" "Well, I can't wait to see this hahaha" said Pedro in smiling maliciously. From this moment, I had only one desire: fuck him. Pedro, I promise you that I will claim my trophy, by any way !

Jason, not being able to have its old dormitory anymore, got a new one, next to Nik’s. He was referred as unit 02 now by his former colleagues. When questioned if he preferred to remain as a part of the lab team or join the ranks of the army, Jason chose the latter. Some would say that this was thanks to the mental conditioning of the transformation, but the truth is, Jason was finally being able to live the life he always wanted. Turning into a superhero, having all the muscles, and having a friend, a friend in Nik. They would train separately at the beginning, but thanks to Jason’s conditioning, his new abilities and military knowledge, all of them acquired in the transformation, he would soon catch up, being next to his dear friend also in his military life. Acting like a machine of war in the trainings, both of them. Nik would still wear uniform, but Jason felt more comfortable naked, wearing only his dogtags, feeling the air passing through his new overly sensitive body. Outside of training, they were both the same as before, except for having got a taste for wrestling and other displays of physical prowess. Jason and Nik were dear friends, would talk constantly and as they got to know each other further, they grew further in love. Their sex was not as frequent, they still felt awkward about it somehow, only for special moments, even if, with time, those special moments had a smaller gap. As the transformation raised their sexual desire, both were still tattering on masturbation, something none were very familiar with before. Was a new life for both, and a new reality they would explore together.

I - El día que conocí a Nico Y resultó que un día, después de seis meses de estar en cuarentena por la pandemia, volví al gimnasio. Había estado intentando hacer deporte en casa, pero luego de los primeros meses el encierro me había vencido y había perdido gran parte de lo que había ganado con entrenamiento consistente y buena alimentación. Acababa de cumplir treinta y ocho años y había decidido que quería volver a estar en forma. Así que me anoté en un gimnasio cerca de casa al que sabía que no iban muchas personas y fui durante el mediodía de lunes a viernes sin faltar un día durante dos meses. Ordené mis comidas como me había enseñado mi nutricionista y después de dos meses de trabajo duro había recuperado la masa muscular que había perdido y bajado un poco la panza. Por esos días creía que estaba en forma, pero eso cambió hasta que conocí a Nico. Ese lunes, por temas de trabajo, no había podido liberarme para ir al mediodía así que decidí ir a las tres de la tarde. Descubrí dos cosas. A esa hora el gimnasio estaba practicamente vacío. No había ningún entrenador y solo quedaba la chica de recepción que estaba en la planta de abajo, así que se podía decir que tenía todo el gimnasio para mí. Bueno, no todo, porque la segunda cosa que descubrí fue a Nico. En verdad no era la primera vez que lo había visto. Algún que otro día me había cruzado con él en el gimnasio, pero se notaba que no iba al mismo horario que yo y por eso solo aparecía cada tanto. Lo que también se notaba era que entrenaba duro. No era gigante. A decir verdad era bastante flaco con una cinturita delgada y unas piernas de palo, pero había pegado una buena espalda y en los brazos (a falta de grasa) se notaban unos tremendos triceps que se marcaban con cada esfuerzo que hacía. Siempre llevaba una remera con cuello en V por lo que solo pude ver parte de sus musculosos brazos, pero notaba lo desarrollada que tenía la espalda. Era bastante blanco y tenía el pelo oscuro. No era feo de cara, pero lo que me llamó más la atención fueron sus músculos. Él era un poco mas alto que yo, me debía sacar media cabeza. Lo cual me hacía pensar que debía medir un metro setenta y cinco o algo así. Las veces que lo había visto me daba cuenta que entrenaba con fuerza, que levantaba pesos más altos que los que yo levantaba y que le gustaba entrenar duro. Lo que no me daba cuenta era si se daba con algo, algún anabólico. Se encontraba en el limite de algo que podría ser conseguido con esfuerzo y dedicacion más buenos genes o algo logrado rapidamente con alguna pastilla. Esa tarde en que lo vi en el gimnasio lo saludé y descubrí que ambos estabamos entrenando pecho. Él acababa de sentarse y solo estaba calentando, subía y bajaba la barra sin agregar peso. —¿Te molesta si hacemos una y una? —le pregunté. —No, dale —me dijo. Yo calenté como él acababa de hacer. —¿Con cuanto arrancás? —me preguntó. —Con cuarenta kilos, ¿vos? —no crean que subía mucho mas que eso, pero un amigo entrenador me había recomendado que luego de calentar no desperdiciara series con mas peso que eso. —Perfecto —dijo y cargó la barra con veinte de un lado mientras yo hacía lo mismo del otro. La subió y bajó sin problema unas quince veces y de pronto tuve miedo de hacer el ridículo dado que yo no podía hacer tantas repiticiones ni tan rapido. —¿Vas solo? —me preguntó. —Si, gracias —dije un poco nervioso. Hice mis doce repeticiones y dejé la barra. —¿Cuanto le subís? —le pregunté. —Vamos con diez kilos mas. —Dale —dije y me arrepentí ni bien lo escuché. Cargamos la barra y él se acóstó. —¿Te ayudo? —le pregunté. —No, está bien, gracias. Esta vez hizo veinte repiticiones sin demasiado esfuerzo. Eran cincuenta kilos. —Con este peso me vas a tener que ayudar —le dije. —Dale. Se puso detrás de la barra y me ayudó a terminar mis diez repeticiones con esfuerzo. —Bien —dijo—, casi sin ayuda. ¿Vamos con cinco más de cada lado? Yo todavía no había recuperado el aire. —Para levantar mas que esto voy a tener que llamar a una grúa. —No te preocupes, yo te sigo. —Si vos lo decís. Cargamos diez kilos más y él acostó debajo de la barra. La levantó e hizo veinte repeticiones sin problema. Ya podía ver sus tremendo triceps abultados del esfuerzo. Cuando se sentó me di cuenta que su pecho se había inflado bastante. Fue mi turno y él se puso detrás de la barra. Me ayudó a levantar y después me dejó ir solo, pero me tuvo que ayudar a la cuarta. —Vamos, bien —dijo—, una más, dale. Hice una quinta. —Una más, vamos, dale, fuerza. Hice una sexta con algo de ayuda. —Una más, dale. Hice una séptima con un poco más de ayuda. —Vamos, la última. Así llegué a la ocho aunque él tuvo que practicamente levantarla solo. De todos modos me sentí bastante bien, nunca había llegado a levantar sesenta kilos. —Bien, bien —me dijo—. ¿Diez más? —Uh, boludo, me voy a morir. Perá que me interno en el hospital y cuando salgo lo hablamos —dije yo mientras respiraba por la boca. Me puse en cuclillas. Sentía que el pecho me iba a explotar de lo duro que lo tenía. Me puso una mano en el hombro y me preguntó si estaba bien. —Todo lo bien que puede estar alguien que acaba de ser aplastado por una topadora. —Jajaja, dale que no es tanto. Cargó diez kilos más y se acomodó debajo. Yo todavía respiraba por la boca. ¡Eran setenta kilos! —¿Te ayu... do? —dije todavía respirando con dificultad. —Dale —dijo. Me puse detrás de la barra y desde ese lugar pude ver su pecho sin problema. Por la remera y lo flaco que era no me había dado cuenta pero tenía un pecho mucho mas grande de lo que yo pensaba. Hizo quince repeticiones y lo ayudé apenas para llegar a las veinte. Ya me empezaba dar cuenta que el pibe era mucho más fuerte que yo y eso me encantaba. Tenía una actitud de macho fuerte que me hacía querer acercarme y tocar su pecho y sus brazos. —¿Hace mucho que entrenás? —le pregunté. —Hace cuatro años —me dijo mientras se masajeaba el pecho con una mano. —Ah, hijo de puta. Yo entreno hace ocho y nunca llegué a levantar tanto. —¿Cuantos años tenés? —me preguntó. —Treinta y ocho. ¿Vos? —Veinte. —¡Ah, hijo de mil puta! Con razón. ¿Qué comés? ¿Bulones de desayuno? —Jajaja, siempre me gustó hacer deporte. —Se nota, hijo de puta, yo a los veinte años me levantaba para ir al colegio y ya me agitaba. —Vamos, ¿la última? —Me querés matar ¿no? —Dale, te sigo. Se paró detrás y me tuvo que ayudar para hacer la primera. A la segunda ya me quedé sin fuerzas. Pude ver sus enormes brazos inflarse para levantar la barra practicamente solo. —Bien, ahi lo quemaste todo —me dijo. —Boludo, me mataste. Mañana no voy a poder ni mover los brazos. —Eso significa que entrenaste bien —me dijo mientras cargaba diez kilos más—. ¿Me seguís? —Dale. Levantó la barra solo y llegó a las diez repeticiones sin que lo ayudara. Después lo ayudé un poco y llegó hasta quince. Hizo cinco más y para las últimas tuve que hacer un poco más de fuerza, pero no demasiado. —Ojalá yo hubiera entrenado así a mis veinte años —dije. —¿No hacías mucho deporte? —Poco y nada. Me picó el bicho del gimnasio a mis treinta. —Mejor tarde que nunca —dijo mientras descargaba la barra; después se acercó y dijo—. La clave está en hacer el movimiento lo más largo posible y apretar fuerte el pectoral al final. Mirá —me dijo que apoyara mi mano en su pecho—. Largo, bien largo y al final apretás con todo el pectoral. ¿Ves? ¿Sentís ahí como apreta? Su pecho era mucho más enorme y duro de lo que había pensado. Ese día entrenamos juntos e hicimos pecho y triceps. Cuando terminé yo estaba sin aire. Nunca había entrenado tan fuerte. Sentía el pecho todo duro y que apenas podía bajar los brazos. Me sentía gigante (obviamente no lo era y menos al lado de él). El pibe se había inflado mucho más. Cuando terminó sus triceps parecían el doble de tamaño. Podía ver que su pecho y sus brazos se habían inflado hasta marcarse debajo de la remera. —Boludo, me mataste —dije. —Jajaja, estuvo muy bien. —Nunca entrené tanto en mi puta vida. —Cuando quieras —me dijo—. Me llamo Nico, ¿vos? Le dije mi nombre y nos saludamos con un puño. —Un gusto —me dijo y se alejó caminando con los brazos enormes y marcados de tanto entrenar.

This is my first story. I intend on expanding it or continuing it. Let me know your thoughts. THE KID FREAK Oliver is just entering 12th grade, when he starts to notice some changes happening to him. Oliver had always been a tall, skinny, geeky kid with dark hair and green eyes. His mother is a Chemistry professor at a local college. She always encouraged her son to study, get good grades and perhaps be a professor one day. When Oliver wanted to play sports, she generally discouraged it. It’s the beginning of 12th grade and there’s a party at Candy Johnson’s house. Candy is a popular girl because she’s not just beautiful, she’s smart as well. Her parties always attracted the jocks and the nerds, a rare mix. Oliver is hanging with a couple of his World of Warcraft buddies, when an arm wrestling match breaks out between a couple of the big jocks at the kitchen table, Big Mike, from Oliver’s high school, and Brock, from a rival high school. They were both shirtless. Big Mike is 6’ tall, 230 lbs, but he’s not lean. He’s got brown hair and a scruffy face. He’s pretty thick. Brock is 6’1” tall and weighs 210 lbs with blonde hair and blue eyes but is pretty lean. The match starts, and Oliver is mesmerized by the test of strength. Both guys have pretty big arms, but Brock’s arms are more defined with a nice peak to his biceps. After about 30 seconds, Brock puts Big Mike down. “It’s getting easier to beat you, Fatty,” says Brock, with a big smile on his face. Big Mike responds, “The only reason you can beat me is because your father is a pro arm wrestler!” “He’s actually the Super Heavyweight World Champion!” says Brock. Brock catches Oliver staring at him. “You wanna arm wrestle, Nerd?” asks Brock. “Umm…no.” Oliver’s friends push him over to the kitchen table. Melvin, a nerdy, skinny kid with thick glasses, says, “C’mon Olly! You’re stronger than you think!” Brock puts his elbow on the table and wiggles his fingers. Oliver looks around at everyone staring and slowly puts his elbow on the table and locks hands with Brock. Big Mike starts them up. “Ready, Go!” Brock and Oliver start slow. Brock is smiling because he knows he has total control. He’s going against a skinny geek. Brock starts to put some real effort into putting Oliver down, but he’s noticing it’s much harder than expected. Big Mike says, “C’mon Brock, stop playin’! Put him down!” Brock pushes harder, but Oliver is not going down easily. Melvin pulls up the sleeve of Oliver’s oversized t-shirt to reveal a small, but ripped and peaked biceps. Big Mike’s eyes show surprise. “Holy shit! I didn’t expect that from Olly,” says Mike. Brock is sweating and now putting maximum effort into beating Oliver. After 45 seconds, he finally puts Oliver down. “Holy shit, Oliver! You’re a lot stronger than I expected. You put up a real fight!” exclaims Big Mike. Brock butts in, “No way, dude. You tired me out. I would destroy him fresh.” Big Mike pulls Oliver aside. “Have you ever lifted weights?” Oliver responds, “No. My mom never let me play any sports. She just wanted me to study.” “Bro, let me train you. You have incredible potential,” says Mike. “You really think so?” “Fuck yeah, I do. Somehow, you’ve built some muscle and strength from doing nothing. Let’s see what you can do if you actually lift weights and challenge yourself.” Oliver agrees to do it. *** Oliver shows up to the football gym with Brock, after all the players have left. “Let’s get some baseline measurements, Olly. Take your shirt off and jump on the scale.” Oliver looks around. “No one is here, buddy,” says Mike. Oliver takes off his shirt. “You’re quite skinny, but you don’t have an ounce of fat.” Oliver has a lot of veins showing as well. Oliver steps on the scale. “Okay, your height is 6 feet tall, and you weigh 155 pounds. Let’s measure your arm.” Oliver flexes his arm and a small, but ripped and peaked biceps appears. Mike measures it. “Wow, Olly, you’re not big, but your bicep is peaked and has great shape. It’s almost 15 inches.” “Really?” asks Oliver. “I swear. When you start to add size, I wouldn’t be surprised if you could be a serious bodybuilder.” “But I want to be strong, so people like Brock can’t pick on me or make fun of me anymore.” “Olly, there is something about you. I think you could be, not just a bodybuilder, but maybe one of the strongest bodybuilders.” “I’m just a nerd,” says Oliver. “I know it appears that way, but something in my gut is telling me different,” responds Mike. Mike takes a couple more measurements. Waist, 27 inches. Quads, 23 inches. Mike takes Oliver over to the bench press. “I’m going to test your strength in different exercises to get your baseline max in each exercise. Then we can measure again every few months.” Oliver agrees. After several warmup sets, Mike puts 155 lbs on the bar. “Anyone that can bench press their bodyweight for 10 reps is considered to be in good shape.” Oliver takes the bar and starts to bench press. He presses it 10 times very easily. “Yes! Too easy!” says Mike. Mike loads 225 lbs. Oliver bench presses it for 5 reps. Mike loads 275 lbs. Oliver bench presses it for 1 rep. “Holy shit, Olly! I knew it! I knew there was something about you.” Oliver is surprised. “Is this considered good?” “Bro, you’re skinny as fuck weighing 155 lbs, and you just bench pressed 275 lbs! And look at yourself in the mirror!” Oliver goes to the mirror. He’s never seen his muscles pumped. He’s sweaty and shiny. His chest is showing a little thickness and rips like he’s never seen before. Abs are shredded. He flexes his arms, and they appear bigger and more ripped. Oliver finishes the rest of the tests. He ended up squatting and deadlifting 305 lbs. He curled 120 lbs on a straight bar. Oliver and Mike agree to keep training together and to keep everything under wraps. No showing off, and Oliver will continue wearing baggy clothes to hide his gains until they decide to reveal them. *** Over the entire 12th grade and into the summer, Mike trained Oliver in secret, nearly every day. Mike and Oliver were shocked at Oliver’s gains. The main state college branch is in their hometown, and freshman year has started, so Mike takes down Oliver’s stats and tests his strength. Height, 6’. Weight, 180 lbs. Biceps, 18.5”. Waist, 28.5”. Quads, 25”. One rep maxes…Bench press, 495 lbs. Straight bar curls, 225 lbs. Squat, 725 lbs. Deadlift, 755 lbs. Oliver asks, “So, honestly, Mike, how do you think I’m doing?” Mike shakes his head in astonishment. “Bro, you’ve far exceeded my expectations. In one year, you look like a real competitive bodybuilder, but what’s blowing my mind, is your strength to weight ratio.” “What about it,” asks Oliver. “You totally don’t get it, do you,” asks Mike. Oliver has a blank stare. “Bro, at this rate, you’re going to be benching over 600 lbs in a few months and maybe you’ll be the lightest person to ever do that,” Mike exclaims. “Whoa…” Oliver is blown away. “I had no idea.” Mike nods his head. “Maybe it’s time for you to test your strength against others.” Oliver smiles. *** A couple months later, it’s time for Candy’s yearly party. Big Mike takes Oliver with him. It’s chilly outside, so Oliver wears a jacket. Oliver and Mike go into the house. It’s quite warm with all the kids partying. They go into the kitchen, where there are about 15 guys and girls. Mike grabs a beer for Oliver. Oliver takes a sip and looks at Mike. He processes the taste. He looks at Mike and smiles. “I never thought I would like beer, but it’s actually pretty good,” says Oliver. An hour goes by, and Mike and Oliver drink about 6 or 7 beers, when Oliver’s nerdy friends show up. “Oliver!” screams Melvin. A big smile comes across Oliver’s face. Melvin shakes Mike’s hand and then Oliver’s. “It’s been a year, since I’ve seen you, Olly,” says Melvin. “I know. Big Mike here has been training me, so I haven’t had a lot of time. I miss you guys.” “Yeah, I knew something was up, and when I just shook your hand, it’s so much bigger,” says Melvin. “Come here. I want you to feel something,” says Oliver. Mike smirks. Melvin comes in close. Oliver flexes his biceps by his side. His jacket arm fills out. Melvin’s eyes get big. He puts both hands around Oliver’s biceps. “Oh my God, Oliver!” Oliver’s heart rate increases with the exhilaration of his friend. “Your arms are massive and hard as a rock!” Oliver smiles and looks at Mike, who nods back at him. “I can’t wait to show you what I can do with this muscle,” says Oliver. Mike says, “It won’t be long. Look who showed up.” Brock walks into the kitchen with a couple friends, Jeff and Scott, both pretty big guys. He’s wearing a tank top and looking bigger and leaner than last year. Brock sees Big Mike. “Yo, Mike! You’re looking bigger than last year,” says Brock. “I am bigger,” replies Mike. “Not as big as this,” says Brock. Brock hits a double biceps shot showing off his 18-inch biceps. “That’s true, but your arms aren’t as big as Olly’s,” says Mike. “What? The nerd I beat last year?” asks Brock. “I wouldn’t call him that anymore, Brock. Show him, Olly.” Oliver steps forward and looks at Mike. Mike nods his head. Oliver is sweating profusely from wearing the jacket in the hot house. Oliver slowly unzippers his jacket. First a glimpse of his chest and then his abs. He removes his jacket and a few audible gasps come from some of the kids in the kitchen. “Oh my God,” says Melvin. Oliver is standing there, dripping sweat, pumped and totally ripped with thick slabs of muscle and not an ounce of fat. Even Mike is shocked. “Show the arm wrestler some real arms, Olly,” says Mike. Oliver hits a front double biceps shot. His arms are ripped with huge peaks, hitting 19.5” with a thick biceps vein. “You may be big, but I’ll destroy you in arm wrestling. I just won the state championship,” exclaims Brock. Mike says, “Let’s do this!” Brock takes a seat at the end of the long kitchen table as does Oliver. They put their elbows on the table and clasp hands. Some of the kids start recording video with their phones. Jeff starts them off. “Ready, Go!” Brock screams and hits first bringing Oliver’s arm down about halfway. Brock laughs. Brock leans in with his shoulder putting all his weight into it to put down Oliver. Mike screams, “C’mon Olly! Don’t let him intimidate you! You’re stronger than he is! Get angry!” Oliver screams and starts pulling hard. His biceps vein starts to pop thicker, and the cords of muscle of his biceps start to increase in prominence. Oliver bends his wrist activating his huge forearms, pumping bigger. Oliver’s biceps start to peak larger as he starts to move Brock’s arm up. “Jesus, look at the kid’s arm,” says one of the guys watching. Oliver pulls his arm almost back to the center position, when Brock grabs the side of the table with his free arm. He screams and using all his strength pulls Oliver back down to the halfway point again. Mike screams, “Brock is cheating grabbing onto the side of the table!” Jeff responds, “No way, bro. Arm wrestling tables have pegs on the side to grab, so it’s fair.” “Okay, but the table is too long for Olly to grab the side with his hand,” retorts Mike. Jeff just shrugs his shoulders. Melvin screams, “C’mon Olly. Show me that muscle, that strength!” Oliver grunts loud and pulls hard, but he can’t move Brock. “No way you can pull through this!” Brock laughs. Oliver screams and pulls with everything he has. At first, he doesn’t move, but after a few seconds, Oliver starts to move Brock’s arm back. Jeff screams, “No way! He’s doin’ it!” Scott adds, “Yeah, and he’s doing it with just one arm!” Oliver’s skin is paper-thin showing all the muscle fibers in his cannonball shoulder and his biceps and triceps, rippling. His biceps is peaking extremely high as he gets back to the center. Melvin says, “Jesus, his arm is more massive than Brock’s!” Brock gets angry and screams trying to pull Oliver back down, but Oliver is ready for it and holds him there. Brock tries several times but can’t break through. Oliver screams and starts to pull Brock down. Oliver’s abs and chest are completely shredded as those muscle groups help with the effort. Oliver’s biceps vein is pumping huge amounts of blood to the muscle as it continues overpowering Brock’s efforts. Brock screams and tries will all his strength to stop Oliver, but Oliver’s ripped muscle is just too strong. “Yeah,” screams Oliver as he continues pushing Brock’s arm down. Oliver stops his assault with Brock’s wrist three inches above the table. He looks at Brock. Oliver shifts his weight and arm position so that he’s just using his triceps. “Give me everything you have,” says Oliver. Brock screams, trying to pull with everything he has. Oliver’s triceps explodes as he takes everything Brock has and overpowers him, slowly pushing Brock’s arm down. Scott says, “Holy shit! The kid’s just using his triceps to overpower Brock! That’s just raw strength!” A few seconds later, Oliver pushes Brock’s arm to the table. Mike screams, “Yeah! You did it, Olly!” “You cheated! You had to have cheated,” said Brock. “Bullshit! I even let you use both hands,” screams Oliver. Brock looks around the room. “You all better delete those videos before I beat your asses.” One of the kids says, “Sorry man. I think that kid Joey was live on Instagram.” “I’m gonna kill him,” Brock screams. Brock runs out looking for Joey. Oliver turns to Mike, “I was acting.” “What,” asks Mike. Oliver responds, “Yeah, he was very easy to arm wrestle. I just screamed for effect.” Mike smiles. “Son of a bitch! You’re getting too strong!” Mike and Oliver grab another beer. All of a sudden, there is a commotion out back by the pool. Mike and Oliver walk out to see what’s going on. Everyone is surrounding some big man, trying to get autographs. “Holy shit! It’s Grip Master,” screams Mike. “Who’s that,” asks Oliver. “He’s a huge professional wrestler that beats his opponents in unbreakable wrestling holds,” Mike responds. “Candy’s older brother is friends with him,” he adds. As Mike and Oliver approach, some of the kids gasp as they see Oliver, pumped and sweaty from his arm wrestling match. Grip Master, who has a shaved head and is 6’5” tall and weighs 310 lbs, looks over to see what’s going on. Mike says, “Hey Grip Master! Huge fan! Could we get a pic with you?” Grip Master responds, “Well, shit, this guy is going to out angle me.” Mike says, “Naa, he’s a kid. He doesn’t even watch pro wrestling.” Grip Master asks, “Wait, he’s a kid?” “Yeah, he’s just 19 years old, but he’s a KID FREAK.” “How big are you,” asks Grip Master. “I’m 6 feet tall and weigh 205 lbs,” says Oliver. “You look much bigger than that,” says Grip Master. Mike adds, “What’s freaky is his strength. The kid bench pressed 585 lbs yesterday in his workout, and he did it easily.” Grip Master gives a skeptical look and says, “I seriously doubt that. I can bench press 680 lbs, and I’m much bigger than him. No one can bench press 585 lbs at his bodyweight.” Mike responds, “It’s true! If we had a bench press here, Olly could show you.” Mike thinks for a second. “What if he could break one of your unbreakable wrestling holds? Would you believe him if he could do that?” Mike asks. “Yeah, but we all know that’s impossible,” Grip Master responds. Oliver adds, “Please, let’s try it. I want to test my strength against you.” Grip Master starts to walk around Oliver, slowly, eyeing him up and down. Mike starts recording video on his phone. Grip Master slips behind Oliver and wraps his arms around Oliver’s torso from the back, putting him into a reverse bearhug, pinning his arms by his side. Oliver winces in pain. All the kids gather around to watch this test of strength. Some are recording it with their phones. Grip Master lifts Oliver off the ground, shaking him and crushing him. Oliver tries to pull his right arm up. His shoulder is ripped and pumped as he puts forth the effort. His arm starts to slowly slide up, especially will all the slippery sweat. He frees his right arm and starts on his left arm, pulling up. Grip Master is tightening his hold, but Oliver is strong enough with the slickness of his body to pull out his left arm. Now Grip Master tightens his hold enough to push the air out of Oliver’s lungs. He starts coughing. “C’mon Oliver! You have to break his grip,” screams Mike. “No way he can do that,” screams one of the kids. Oliver breaths in deep and screams, hitting a massive front double biceps shot. Gasps from the crowd as they are in awe of his massive and shredded physique. Grip Master’s hold is that he’s grabbing his right wrist with his left hand. Oliver crisscrosses his hands, grabbing Grip Master’s right fist with his right hand and grabbing Grip Master’s left hand with his left hand. Oliver screams and starts pulling apart as if he’s trying to bend the bars of a steel cage. His biceps explode in size with thick biceps veins pumping massive amounts of blood to his incredible ripped muscle. Every muscle fiber can be seen. His lats expand with the massive effort being put forth. Grip Master is holding the grip in place. “Nice try kid, but you’re going to have to try harder than that,” says Grip Master. Oliver screams and pulls harder. His biceps seem to be getting larger with the effort as well as his forearms. Sweat is dripping down his heaving chest and his chiseled abs. Grip Master seems to be starting to labor a bit. One of the kids says, “This kid is ripped as fuck, and he’s making Grip Master work!” Hearing that excites Oliver. Oliver screams again increasing the pressure. Grip Master starts to breath heavy. Another kid says, “This kid’s arms are huge.” “Yeah, and his strength is insane,” responds another. Oliver goes nuts after hearing that, screams and pulls with everything he has. His ripped biceps are nearly exploding with every muscle fiber showing through his paper-thin skin. His shoulders are huge, round and ripped. Abs are shredded. Oliver looks down at his own body, in awe of his incredible strength. He slowly starts to pull apart Grip Master’s unbreakable reverse bearhug. “Yeah,” Oliver screams as he feels himself overpower the strongest grip in professional wrestling. Oliver can hear the kids… “Impossible,” “No way,” “He’s breaking free!” Oliver slowly pulls his hands apart. Grip Master screams and, using his incredible chest strength, stops Oliver. Grip Master tries to close it back up, but somehow Oliver’s arms and shoulders begin to overpower Grip Master’s incredible chest strength, continuing to pull apart his arms. Grip Master falls backwards, staring at his hands in shock. He then looks back at Oliver as Oliver turns back around. Oliver screams and hits a front double biceps, with biceps that must be over 20 inches, pumped. Mike walks over to Oliver. “Believe it now, Grip Master,” asks Mike. “Hell yeah. I’ve never felt that much power before from anyone!” Oliver smiles. *** Another year goes by. Mike continues training Oliver in secret. Somehow Oliver continues making incredible gains in size and strength. Oliver’s latest stats are: Height, 6’. Bodyweight, 230 lbs. Biceps, 22 inches. Waist, 30 inches. Quads, 28 inches. Oliver’s strength level is incredible with a 685 lb bench press, 275 lb strict straight bar curl, 960 lb squat and a 980 lb deadlift. His bodyfat is as low as it has ever been. “How would you like to test your physique against bodybuilders and your strength against arm wrestlers, powerlifters and strongmen, all in the same day,” asks Mike. “Hell, yeah, but where can we do this?” “At the Arnold Classic this weekend. It’s two months away. Let’s see what kind of gains you can make until then.” responds Mike. Oliver says, “Let’s do it!” *** Mike and Oliver are in their hotel room at the Arnold Classic. They are lying in their beds resting. “You awake,” asks Oliver. “Yeah, what’s up?” “My mom hasn’t really spoken with me much about my gains. I thought it was weird because she never encouraged me to do any athletic or physical activity. It was always about studying. So, I asked her if she was shocked by my transformation,” says Oliver. “Okay,” responds Mike Oliver continues, “She says she wasn’t. She met my father in a one night stand. She never even got a picture with him, but he was an incredibly built man with muscles everywhere and no bodyfat. What made her lust for him was an incredible feat of strength he performed.” “What did he do?” “A car accident happened in front of a gym. He was training after hours. My mom was waiting for a taxi, when a car went out of control up onto the sidewalk and hit and ran over an old man. His leg was pinned under the tire. Without thinking, my father put his hands under the passenger side of the car, screamed and lifted the side of the car up. She pulled the old man out from under the car.” “Holy shit,” exclaims Mike. “Yeah, that night they went to dinner together and had sex. He left the country never to be seen or heard from again. She suspects that he was likely married and ashamed. She never told me all this because she didn’t want me to go down that path.” “Oh man. I’m really sorry to hear that.” “Here’s the interesting part. My mom asked how he got so strong. He told her the usual stuff about lifting heavy weights, but he also told her he had a rare genetic mutation that not only allowed for good muscle growth but allowed for the muscle to contract extremely hard. His nervous system was also somehow enhanced. A year after I was born, she got me tested, and I have the same condition as my father.” “Wow! This is incredible. I wonder what your limits are,” said Mike. “I don’t know, but I’m going to push myself to get stronger than any human alive,” exclaims Oliver. “Hell yeah!” Mike jumps out of bed. “Since we’re going to hit bodybuilding first, let’s put on your last coat of tan,” says Mike. Over the next hour, Mike paints Oliver’s skin with the bodybuilding posing tan making his skin dark, which shows the cuts and rips in Oliver’s muscle much better, especially under bright lights. Mike gives him a pair of posing trunks to wear under his clothes. Mike and Oliver enter the ballroom where they have bodybuilding. The press conference just ended, and they’re getting some photos and videos of Rob Coulson, last year’s Arnold Amateur champion, who is competing at the pro bodybuilding competition. He’s considered to have some of the best arms in bodybuilding. He’s a top contender to win. Off to the side of the stage, Mike has Oliver strip off his clothes. Mike quickly puts a light coating of oil on Oliver’s body. While Rob is hitting some poses, Oliver jumps up onto the stage from the ground, which grabs everyone’s attention, since the stage is very high. A couple whistles from the small crowd still there with photographers. Rob laughs at Oliver jumping up on stage. He hits a front double biceps shot. Oliver stands next to him and hits a front double biceps shot. A few audible gasps from the crowd. Oliver’s arms appear to be bigger than Rob’s arms. Not only that, he’s so ripped that you can see every muscle fiber in his arms, chest and completely shredded quads. Rob’s girlfriend screams for him to do his money shot, his back double biceps. So, Rob and Oliver turn around. They both hit their back double biceps shot. “Oh my God,” says Rob’s girlfriend. Oliver has him beat on his best shot, with bigger, more peaked arms, larger and more ripped shoulders and a much wider back. Oliver’s hamstrings are also bigger. One of the photographers says, “Who’s this kid? He’s destroying Rob.” Mike steps up and says, “His name is Oliver. He’s 20 years old and just getting into bodybuilding.” The photographer screams, “20? Are you fucking kidding me?” Someone screams, “Hit a most muscular shot!” Rob and Oliver turn around and both hit a most muscular crab shot. Oliver is matching Rob’s size from a muscular standpoint, but he’s much more shredded. Oliver’s chest is completely ripped with monster shoulders and traps. The biceps veins are nearly exploding they’re so thick. Abs are like steel armor. Oliver’s quad sweep is also wider and denser than Rob’s. “This kid could have won the show,” exclaims one photographer. Rob gets angry and walks off the stage. Mike gives the photographers contact info for Oliver. Oliver jumps off the stage and puts on a pair of shorts over his posing trunks. They exit the ballroom and go to the main wing of the expo where they have all the other events and activities. About as soon as they enter the expo hall, a bunch of people come over wanting pictures with Oliver. He’s shirtless and wearing shorts that show off his massive quads and calves. They make their way to the Animal Cage where they are starting a bench press competition. Mike registered Oliver for the contest. There are 10 competitors, most are big and fat, but powerful men. Oliver weighs in at 245 lbs and is easily the leanest competitor. The biggest and strongest competitor, nicknamed Grizzly, is 6’5” tall and weighs in at 330 lbs. Grizzly says, “Boy. You a bodybuilder? Cause you gonna git hurt here. This ain’t no play time in the gym. This is big boy weight.” He laughs. Everyone submits on written cards what their first lift will be. The announcer gets on the microphone. The announcer says, “Okay folks. We’re getting started with 405 pounds on the bar, and we’ll finish with Grizzly with 675 pounds…wait…there must be a mistake here. Who is Oliver? Oliver raises his hand and says, “Me sir!” Someone in the crowd says, “Holy shit! He’s jacked as fuck!” Announcer asks, “You’re opening with 685 pounds? Is that a mistake? Because no one has ever opened with that much weight, and honestly son, you don’t look like you could do something like that.” Oliver responds, “Yes sir. 685 pounds is my opener. I want to make sure I get the lift, so I can go heavier.” Announcer asks, “So this is easy for you?” Oliver says, “Yes sir.” Grizzly yells, “I smell bullshit! No one can beat me in bench press, especially not some bodybuilder!” The competition starts, and Oliver warms up. They get to Grizzly, and he presses 675 lbs, with a huge effort. The staff loads 685 lbs onto the bar. Oliver lays down on the bench. The crowd quiets down to watch. Oliver grabs the bar. Announcer asks, “You want a liftoff young man?” Oliver says, “No sir. I got this.” Oliver lifts the bar off the rack. He slowly lowers the weight and touches his chest, holding the bar there.” Judge says, “Press!” Oliver pushes the bar back with incredible power. It flies up. Judge says, “Rack it!” Oliver puts the bar back. He gets a good lift signal. He jumps up and hits a most muscular shot. He’s sweating profusely. The crowd goes wild. Grizzly throws down his belt. Everyone submits their lifts. Oliver is doing 720 lbs. Grizzly finds out and puts 725 lbs for himself. Fifteen minutes later, 720 lbs is loaded onto the bar. Oliver sits on the end of the bench and flexes his pecs several times. His chest is shredded and sweaty. Mike comes over to give him a liftoff. Mike says, “You got this Olly. Let’s put this guy out of his misery.” Oliver screams, “Hell yeah!” He lays on the bench. He nods his head for Mike to give the liftoff. He lowers the bar and holds it on his chest. Judge says, “Press!” Oliver screams and presses the bar extremely hard. The bar goes up steadily and fairly quickly. Judge says, “Rack!” Oliver racks it and get a good lift signal. He jumps up and hits a double biceps shot. Someone from the crowd, “Jesus, this kid is an animal.” Grizzly is up. 725 lbs is loaded onto the bar. He sits down. He sniffs a bottle of smelling salts, throws it aside and screams. He lays down. His spotter gives him a liftoff. He lowers the bar and stops on his chest. Judge says, “Press!” Grizzy screams and pushes. The bar goes up very slowly. It gets stuck halfway up, but after a couple seconds, he screams and is able to slowly push through to a lockout. Judge says, “Rack!” Grizzy racks it. He sits up, and his nose is bleeding. He stands up and then stumbles. A couple staff help him to his chair. Everyone is submitting final lifts, except for Grizzy. He’s going to stick with his last lift of 725 lbs. Mike says, “That last lift went up really fast. I don’t know…you think you could do 750, or is that just too much?” Oliver thinks for a couple seconds and says, “Fuck it! Let’s do it!” After 15 minutes, it’s Oliver’s turn. 750 lbs is loaded onto the bar. Announcer says, “This kid has already broken records today. Now he’s going for 750 lbs, more than three times his bodyweight. He’s completely ripped up, and he’s only 20 years old!” The crowd cheers. Oliver sits on the bench, flexing his chest and arms. He lays back and screams. Mike comes over and grabs the bar. Oliver nods his head for the liftoff. Mike does it and steps back. Oliver takes a deep breath and lowers the bar. He touches and holds the bar on his chest. The judge waits an extra seconds before giving the signal. Judge says, “Press!” Oliver screams and starts pressing. His chest is pumped and shredded. His triceps are popping out and ripped. The bar slowly goes up. It slows down near the halfway mark. Oliver screams again using his chest power to press the bar high and higher, until he finally locks out. Judge says, “Rack!” Oliver racks the bar. The good lift signal is given. The crowd erupts in cheers. Grizzly walks out. Oliver hits a huge most muscular shot. Mike comes over and gives Oliver a hug. Mike says, “Bro! I’m blown away!” “Me too man! I can’t believe it! It’s like nothing can stop me!” Mike says, “Maybe nothing or no one can!” They exit the cage and go onto the next event. Mike says, “I think you’re going to like this next event. It will really test your strength like nothing has before.” Mike and Oliver enter the Bending Arena. Oliver’s eyes light up. There are all kinds of things to bend here, including nails, thick bolts, tools, including wrenches. They have steel bars to bend like on World’s Strongest Man from the 1980s and 1990s. A big sign says… “WHOEVER BENDS THE THICKEST BAR TODAY, WINS A FREE SET OF CAPTAINS OF CRUSH GRIPPERS!” Mike and Oliver go over to the steel bars. Jake is managing the challenge. “Wow, you must be a bodybuilder,” says Jake. Oliver says, “Well, I…” “He’s really a power bodybuilder,” says Mike. Oliver smiles. Jake says, “Well, you’re in the right spot if you want to test you strength.” Oliver asks, “What are the Captains of Crush Grippers?” Jake breaks out all the grippers ranging from Captains of Crush (CoC) 1 all the way to a 4. Jake says, “They range in strength from level 1 to level 4. Only 5 people in the world have ever closed a number 4.” Oliver says, “I have to try that!” Jake says, “Okay big boy, let’s start you off with a number 2. Most bodybuilders can barely do that.” Oliver takes the number 2 and puts it in his hand. He closes it, and his forearms pump up. He closes it for reps. After he hits 20 reps, Jake stops him. Oliver says, “I’ll take the number 4 now.” “I don’t think you should jump up to it right away, but here you go.” A crowd starts to form to watch Oliver. Jake records video using his phone. Oliver places the number 4 gripper in his hand. He takes a couple deep breaths, screams and squeezes as hard as he can. He closes it. Jake screams, “Holy shit!” Oliver lets it open and closes it again. And again. Veins are snaking in his forearm pumping it close to 19 inches thick. And then he holds the gripper closed for 20 seconds. Jake screams, “Yeah! What a pump!” Mike says, “Bro, your forearm is massive!” Oliver flexes his forearm for the camera. Oliver says, “Let me bend some bars.” Jake says, “Normally I’d start someone with a 1/2” thick steel bar to try, but you’re much stronger than the guys that usually come over here. Here’s a 5/8” thick steel bar that’s 4 feet long.” Oliver grabs the bar and holds it at either end. Jake continues, “So before you try anything, let me tell you how to properly bend…Wait!” Oliver starts pushing on the bar, trying to bend it. Jake says, “Hold on man! You can’t bend it in front of your body like that. It’s impossible!” A guy from the crowd says, “Have you ever seen anyone so ripped?” Oliver screams. His chest and abdominals are shredded. His biceps are popping. Another scream and slowly the bar starts to bend. Jake says, “No way!” Oliver continues pouring his strength into bending the bar in front of his body. After a few seconds, the ends of the bar touch. Oliver drops the bar and hits a double biceps shot, screaming, “Yeah!” Jake says, “Holy shit! I did not expect that.” Mike asks, “What’s your thickest bar?” Jake responds, “Well, it’s called the Ultimate, and it’s not really meant to be bent.” Mike asks, “What do you mean?” Jake says, “Well, it’s 1 and 1/4 inch thick cold-rolled steel at 5 feet in long. It’s believed that no one can really bend it. That’s why there is a cash prize for anyone that can bend it just with their upper body and make the ends touch, wins $100,000. That’s just impossible.” Oliver’s eyes get big and says, “I gotta fuckin’ try it!” Jake says, “You can try it, but no one has even come close to making the tiniest of bends in the bar. It’s still perfectly straight.” Mike asks, “How quickly would Oliver get the money if he does it?” “It’s an instant bank transfer,” says Jake. Jake gives Oliver the bar and a thick bath towel. Jake says, “This time you won’t be able to bend it in front of your body.” “So, what do I do?” Jake responds, “Fold the towel and put it on your head for protection. Put the bar on top, using your head as a leverage point. Bend the bar down as far as you can, then put it behind your neck and bend it until the ends touch.” Oliver folds the towel and puts it on his head. The crowd is getting really big now. Oliver places the bar on top and grabs the ends of the bar with his hands. Mike screams, “You can do this Olly! No one has ever bent a bar this thick! You’re gonna do it in front of all these people, not as some fat strongman, but as a ripped-up power bodybuilder. No one has ever seen anything like this before! You can do it!” Oliver takes a couple deep breaths and screams. He pulls down hard, but the bar doesn’t budge. He takes a break. Jake says, “I told you bro. You can’t do it. No one can.” Oliver goes nuts and screams and pulls with everything he has. His biceps explode into huge ripped peaks. His lats flare out wider than ever. His abdominals contract as hard as they ever have before. At first, nothing happens, but after a few seconds, a squeal comes from the bar. The bar starts to slowly bend under Oliver’s strength. His lats are contracting so hard, you can see every muscle fiber. Oliver screams again pouring all of his strength into the task of bending the thickest steel ever bent by a human. The crowd starts talking… “Oh my God!” “He’s doing it!” “He’s fuckin’ ripped up!” “That’s just raw strength!” Jake is in complete awe of Oliver’s ripped strength. Jake says, “He’s bending the unbendable!” Oliver bends the bar halfway and stops for a second. He screams again and continues bending the bar until it’s about a 90-degree angle and can’t bend further on his head. He’s sweating profusely. He drops the bar behind his neck. Using his chest, he tries to crush the bar in, but it’s still a bit too wide for that. Oliver tilts the bar behind his neck, so that the end in his left hand is now down by his hip. The end of the bar in his right hand is above his head. Bracing the left end against his body, Oliver screams and pulls down on the bar with his right hand. Someone from the crowd says, “Jesus Christ! Look at the kid’s arm!” Oliver’s 22-inch right biceps explodes into ripped glory pulling the bar down, dripping sweat. His abs contracting hard to stabilize his core. Oliver screams again! The impossible to bend cold-rolled steel tries to resist, but Oliver’s biceps is just too strong, bending it more and more. “Yeah,” screams Oliver as he dominates the bar. Now the bar is at a 45-degree angle. Oliver centers the bar behind his neck, with his arms on both ends of the bar. Oliver screams and pushes the ends of the bar towards each other. His chest and abs are ripped to the bone. His chest is heaving and pumping blood as massive amounts of strength pass through to his hands. Oliver screaming and pushing slowly presses the ends of the bar towards each other. After several seconds, the ends touch. Jake, in utter disbelief, faints for a moment. Oliver lifts the bar from his neck and throws it to the ground. He hits a huge most muscular shot as the crowd cheers and then a huge front double biceps shot. Mike then hugs him, and Oliver hugs him back. People in the crowd come up to congratulate him and get pictures. Finally, Oliver gets a bank transfer from Jake’s company. Mike says, “It looks like we just have one more stop.” Oliver responds, “Arm wrestling!” Mike nods his head. Oliver adds, “You think Brock’s Dad, Titus, will accept my challenge?” “Well, he is the Super Heavyweight World Champion, so he may not take you too seriously. You’re only 20 years old, and arm wrestlers always think they can destroy bodybuilders. But, you do have some money that you can put up to sweeten the pot.” Oliver says, “Yes!” On the way to the arm wrestling competition, they stop to get some burgers and refuel. Oliver eats six double cheeseburgers and six orders of fries. They finally arrive at the arm wrestling contest. It doesn’t start for another 15 minutes. Mike speaks with the promoters to try to get Titus to take on Oliver. At first the promoters said no because Oliver hasn’t competed and earned a spot to challenge Titus. When Mike offered Titus $20,000 to take the match, he accepted. Announcer says, “It’s time to get started! Up first is a best of three supermatch between your current super heavyweight world champion, 6’3” tall, 350 pounds of solid mass, with 23-inch arms and 20-inch forearms…Titus!” Cheers from the crowd as Titus walks out. The announcer continues, “His challenger is a complete unknown but considers himself a power bodybuilder, 6’ tall weighing 245 pounds of completely ripped muscle, 22-inch arms and only 20 years old…Oliver! The usual audible gasps form the audience. Brock looks up in shock. Brock says, “No way! Oliver is challenging my Dad? Jesus, he really packed on some size.” Titus and Oliver both come to the table. Oliver asks for his arms to be measured since it’s been a couple months, and he still has a pump from the bar bending. The referee measures Oliver’s arm. The referee says, “It looks to be…22 and 3/4…wait…23 inches…matching Titus!” “Looks so much bigger than Titus,” says one guy from the crowd. His friend responds, “Yeah, cause he’s got a huge peak and the muscle is completely ripped up.” Oliver smiles. The referee measures his forearm. “The bodybuilder’s forearm is 19.5”, just under Titus!” Oliver smiles and nods his head. Titus says, “You think cause you have a little muscle you can challenge me? Kid, I have over 20 years of experience in arm wrestling. I know every technique and trick in the book, and I haven’t lost a match in over three years! No way you can beat this arm!” With that, Titus flexes his right arm to cheers in the crowd. Oliver responds, “I’m tired of your son bullying kids, so I’m going to teach you a lesson. I don’t need any arm wrestling techniques or tricks. I’m gonna beat you with raw strength!” Oliver hits a double biceps shot, totally ripped with a light coat of sweat for shine. The crowd starts talking… “That kid’s arms are bigger than Titus’!” “Have you ever seen someone so shredded?” Titus gets mad and slams his elbow on the pad. Oliver grips up and squeezes Titus’ hand. Titus tries to pull out, but Oliver’s grip is too strong. Finally, Oliver lets Titus slip out and re-grip. The referee starts the match. “Ready, Go!” Titus hits hard, but Oliver holds him. Titus hits harder and pulls Oliver’s arm down just a bit off center. The crowd doesn’t know how to react. “That kid is holding back Titus!” Titus screams and goes all out trying to pull down Oliver. Oliver does go down a little until Oliver screams and starts pulling with everything he has. He stops Titus and starts to pull Titus back up. Oliver’s arm is incredibly shredded showing every muscle fiber working. His chest is ripped and sweat is pouring off his body. “Yeah,” Oliver screams. Oliver gets their arms back to the center starting position. Brock screams, “Arm Lock! Dad, use your Arm Lock!” Titus shifts his weight and his arm position, essentially locking his arm into place, making it very difficult, if not impossible to move. Oliver is confused. He’s not sure how Titus is blocking him from pulling his arm down. “Yes, just hold him there, Dad! He’ll burn out soon,” screams Brock. Another grunt from Oliver, but he can’t move Titus. Titus smiles. “No one has ever broken through my Arm Lock, kid. Not even the strongest arm wrestlers,” says Titus. “I’m a power bodybuilder, and this ripped muscle is gonna bust through your Arm Lock.” Titus laughs. Oliver screams and pulls harder. His biceps seeming to pump larger, and his forearms expand with corded muscle trying to push through his paper-thin skin. Titus’ smile goes away. “This kid has some serious muscle,” says someone from the crowd. “Yeah, his biceps are really peaked, but I don’t know if he has the strength to pull through Titus’ Arm Lock. It’s impossible,” says his friend. Oliver hears this talk from the crowd. It gets him very excited. Oliver screams again and pulls with everything he has. His chest is shredded and pouring on the strength that can bench press well over 700 lbs. His biceps and forearms that curl nearly 300 lbs are increasing the pressure that no one else can create. “You can do it,” screams Mike. “This kid…I’ve never seen so much ripped muscle,” exclaims someone from the crowd. Oliver very slightly moves Titus’ arm. Titus’ eyes are wide, and his head is shaking with the effort to contain Oliver. “Fuck yeah,” screams Oliver. “Impossible,” says Brock. Oliver looks over at Brock. Brock is in shock. The crowd starts talking… “The kid bodybuilder…he’s doin’ it!” “That’s pure, raw strength!” Titus screams, trying to stop Oliver, and he does for a second, but the kid bodybuilder’s strength is building. His ripped muscle contracting harder. Oliver starts pushing through the Arm Lock with every muscle group engaged including his back with crazy striations, his biceps with impossible peaks and his chest just ripped to the bone with massive forearms at the lead. As Oliver is pulling Titus’ arm down, closer and closer to the pin pad, Titus does a King’s Move, dropping his body below the table and stretching out the arm to make it impossible to pin due to the angle of the arm. Brock screams, “Good move, Dad! Hold him there and burn him out!” Oliver continues pulling Titus’ arm, but it’s completely stuck. It’s even harder than his Arm Lock. After 10 seconds of pulling, Oliver isn’t making progress. Mike screams, “Olly, do a shoulder press! Stand up tall and use your shoulder and bodyweight to press his arm down!” Oliver stands up tall and starts pushing with just his triceps. He doesn’t lean over and use his shoulder and bodyweight. Titus is smiling. He’s in a good position. The King’s Move doesn’t use much energy. It’s all about leverage, angles and the arm’s natural straight arm end range. “No one can push through my King’s Move, kid! It’s ten times harder than my Arm Lock!” Oliver grunts loud and pushes hard. Titus’ arm is like hardened steel. It’s just not moving. “You can’t do it, Olly!,” screams Brock. Oliver screams and starts pushing with everything he has! His triceps shows every cross-striation. His shoulders are shredded. His biceps vein looks massive and mean. His chest is heaving with ripped abs and sweat pouring off him. Titus’ smile turns to gritting teeth. “If this kid’s ripped muscle pushes through Titus’ King’s Move, it will send me over the edge,” whispers a guy to his friend right near the table. This excites Oliver even more, somehow allowing him to push even harder. His ripped triceps start to very slowly move Titus’ arm towards the pin pad. Oliver looks down at the guy watching and sees his eyes getting bigger and the guy says, “Oh my God! He’s doing it!” The guy starts shaking. Oliver screams again, pushing more! His triceps is exploding. The crowd starts speaking again… “This kid’s strength is insane! He’s doing it with just his triceps!” “This kid bodybuilder is beating the strongest arm wrestler at his own sport!” “No! You can’t!” mutters Titus. A cracking sound starts to come from Titus’ arm. “Stop! You’re going to break his arm,” screams Brock. Oliver backs off. “Want to give up, so I can spare your arm,” Oliver asks. “I’ll never give up!” “Good, cause I wanna see how strong these triceps are,” yells Oliver. Oliver looks directly at Brock. He screams and pushes again. His ripped triceps is monstrously huge. Titus’ arm moves slightly. It’s getting stuck as the bones near the elbow start touching. Titus’ arm is nearly at the pin pad, but now it’s completely stuck. “You think he could break his arm,” someone asks from the crowd. “No man. I don’t think it’s possible,” replies another. Oliver gets excited and goes nuts! He screams, and his triceps responds somehow pushing harder. “Yeah, I’m gonna do it,” screams Oliver. Titus starts to scream. His arm starts to slightly bend under the strength of Oliver’s triceps. Oliver looks at Brock. Brock has his hands on his head in disbelief. Oliver screams again pushing as hard as he can with just his triceps strength. About three seconds later, a grinding sound and then…SNAP! Oliver breaks Titus’ arm. Titus’ hand hits the pin pad. He pulls his arm away grabbing it for support. Oliver slams his fist down onto the pad, crushing the pad and bending one of the thick steel supports holding the table up. He then hits a double biceps shot at Titus. Incredibly ripped biceps explode to over 24 inches with high peaks. Lats flare out like wings. Abs shredded. Sweat pouring off his body giving it a beautiful shine. Cheers and shock coming from the crowd. Mike gives Oliver a hug. “I knew you could do it, Olly,” says Mike. “I couldn’t have done all this without you, Big Mike,” responds Oliver. “Maybe you should call me, Little Mike, from now on.” They laugh. Brock runs over to his Dad and takes him away for medical attention. Someone from the crowd says, “Bro, you broke the table.” Oliver looks at it. There are four steel support bars that run from the base on the floor to the tabletop. One of them is bent inwards. Oliver bends down and grabs the bent support bar at the middle of the bend with his left hand. His other hand is on the tabletop for support. Oliver grunts and starts pulling. His biceps and forearm explode as does his lat. Very slowly, Oliver starts bending the support bar straight. “No way! This kid is bending fucking steel,” says one guy from the crowd. “Jesus, his arm strength is off the scale!” Oliver completely straightens the support bar. He then hits another double biceps shot at the crowd. The crowd cheers. The crowd comes over to Oliver for pictures and autographs. Oliver looks at Mike. “Let’s keep doing this shit! I want to see how strong I can get!” Mike responds, “Hell yeah kid!” THE END

Chapter One "Oh, mon cher, your size, strength and power, how is it that your father made you the man you are today?" "Whilst it is true that my father gave me the strength you are enjoying, my mother gave me the endurance to carry it on forever and a day, mon cher!" "Then, please, I beg you, mon cher, let me test that resilience, that raw unbridled power" "As it is almost the festival celebrating the mass of the Christ child, I shall mon cher!" With that Porthos got up from the bed where he and Henri had been engaged in a combination of play wrestling and mutual worship and now standing at the end of the bed, he took a deep breath, flared out his back and looked at his husband. "Hold that mighty breath" moaned Henri, spreadeagled on the bed totally naked like his husband, "then come onto me and do unto me as I have done unto you so many times before!" Porthos winked and as Henri raised his hands above his chest, Porthos fell forwards so that Henri was holding the Titan's powerful chest, and the Titan's manhood was touching his husband's hole. Gently lowering Porthos onto him, Henri gasped as he felt Porthos enter him and moaned "We shall excite each other, mon cher" and within moments, Henri was manhandling Porthos's mighty pecs and huffing and puffing as he felt Porthos's manhood slowly, but surely, go deeper inside him. "What a good idea" panted Henri, as he squeezed his husband's chest, "that we made sure we decided to spend the festival of the mass of the Christ child in that old abandoned hut in the middle of the Bois de Boulogne" and as Porthos raised an eyebrow as if to ask "Why, mon cher?", Henri replied "So I can do this!" and with that screamed in ecstasy as he felt Porthos reach his prostate. As he did, Henri reached underneath the bed and revealing his sword panted "It is the festival of the mass of the Christ child after all?" and a moment later, the Ultimate Musketeer was being rammed to within an inch of his life by the Ultimate Titan, both men's faces as red as they could be, with Henri's grunts matched by Porthos's slaps against his husband's bare skin. Despite his best efforts, Henri knew when he had reached his limits and with a mighty scream of "FOR HIS MAJESTY" he split his seed and then exacted his revenge on his lover as he twisted Porthos's nipples in opposite directions at the same time causing the man mountain to throw his head back and, having taken a massive intake of breath, scream "AND THE CAPTAIN" with such force that he blew a hole in the roof before collapsing onto his husband. Panting and moaning from the after effects of the double spillage, they were just about to kiss when from outside came an almighty crash followed by the sound of trees crashing to the ground. Instantly the two husbands became the heroes they were and within a minute, now dressed in their shining breastplates showing off their powerful heaving chests gazed upon a scene of carnage. "A carriage" declared Henri, pointing to some wreckage in the trees, "a carriage must have fallen off the king's road" and with that the two heroes went to work. Thankfully, the carriage, unlike any they had seen before, had managed to remain intact, save a light at one corner that was now bent at a jaunty angle, and as they found the driver, a man with flowing white locks, a white beard almost to his chest, a rosy cheeked face and looking supringsly young for a man with such a beard, none the worse for wear. "Monsieur" declared Henri, "are you alright?" The man looked around and replied with something that made both men freeze in horror. "Yes, Henry, I think I am alright. Yes, no bones broken, I think. Tell me though, since when did you and Issac start wearing next to nothing? I thought that you were an English gentleman and Issac was a member of the nobility?"

CW: muscle growth. Four years since she'd met Joel. Four years in isolation together. In four years, the old man had shaped her, molded her, redefined her into a survivor. Their world was harsh, she had to be harsher. Ellie struggled to catch her breath, leaning against the tiled wall, staring at her reflection in the shattered spiderweb of the restroom mirror. A survivor... The hardness of her eyes betrayed the gentle youth of her face, still the face of a young girl, although she had blossomed into a woman. The contrast couldn't be starker. All of the ugliness, death, and violence she had witnessed in her short life left stains behind her bright green irises. In two more years, she would turn twenty, but her gaze indicated a memory older than her pouting lips, rounded cheeks, light eyelashes, and cute nose appeared. And yet that wasn't Ellie's only contradiction. There was the first thing anybody noticed: her over-pumped, bloated, rugged, hideously muscular body. Joel had taken the freckled teen and turned her into a battleship of a woman. Heavy drops of her sweat dripped from the rivulets slithering between her muscles, falling and tapping on top of the sink beneath her like bullets. Her green eyes took in her impossible physique and she suddenly wondered how this had happened, how she could have transformed her pain into agony into power. Her body ached constantly. It felt almost as if her bones were being pulled apart as her once thin body continued to pack on more and more mass. When would it stop? When would the torturous workouts end? When could she stop pushing for more? Every day she told herself it was enough. Every day she relished breaking new records. Her eyes ravished the grotesque, quivering ribbons of her pecs, so hopelessly muscular that they ensured she would never have the soft luxurious breasts of a woman... and she nearly sobbed over the ugly vascularity, the rope-thick veins bunching over every inch of her barely clothed chest, her old striped shirt torn to appropriate shreds over her muscles that were in just about the same state. The worn out threads looked as if they were being forced apart by her heaving chest, so incredibly jacked that their sick vascularity shook with awful tremors with her every movement. If not for the mirror, and the gift of leaning forward, she could hardly see past those twin boulders stuck on her chest, each pectoral fighting for space with nowhere to go but outward. She had worked them so hard over the years that each pec was wider across than her shoulders were when she was younger... (access the full story and the entire library at patreon.com/pumpculture)

This story is intended to be more of a slow burn, but it'll have regular updates. The first chapters are more of a set-up, until the interesting stuff come along! Chapter 1 The only thing that kept me from screaming out loud was the constant, artificial reassurance of my internal monologue. Calm down, Jason. It's a wonderful job, you know. Working with these people will teach you to come out of your shell and obliterate any remnants of your social anxiety! I try to prevent my mind from responding to, well, my mind, but this cheerful voice inside be has been part of my life since I was a toddler, and so I indulge in my own insanity. How exactly is working as a laboratory intern a way of fixing my anxiety? The only thing they make me do is clean up the apparatus after they're done with their experiments! And I just stand there like a scarecrow, with a fake smile on my face, saying 'Thanks!' as if they gave me the most important mission of my entire life! The voice doesn't seem to have an answer for my accusation, and so it finally shuts up, letting me to resume the monotony of the past few hours. In hindsight, working for 'Astral Arc' seemed like a great prospect of adding work experience to my CV as an undergraduate student, at least when some official representatives had visited my university to present their new and upcoming company. From Pharmaceutics to Research & Development, and even Bioengineering of infectious agents, the company appeared as the perfect place to work and learn, with 'friendly' staff and many opportunities to grow. In the first month of working here, I realized that the only good thing about Astral Arc was their marketing department, because they had done a damn good job at hiding the fact that all students would be treated like house elves that their only objective in life was cleaning and filing up stacks of paperwork. But I'm not mad or anything. Besides, my inability to handle confrontation prevents me from speaking up about the horrible working hours or measly pay. So, all I do is keep my head down and follow the orders of the Senior Researchers, who're essentially in charge in the Bioengineering Sector of the building. The only silver lining in this scam job is that I have my own desk and computer that I use when I'm not cleaning lab equipment, although the laboratory has restricted access to the internet in order to prevent any leaking of 'redacted information'. The funniest part of this whole farce is that my section, Lab 1, is only working on a potential bio-agent that can detect epithelial cell damage, which has to be the most boring assignment yet. It's rather unfair, because the other labs are working on far more exciting projects, or so I've heard. As each minute passes, the clock on the wall somehow gets slower, the passing hours feeling like eons of boredom and apathy. Another intern sitting next to me taps the plastic wall that separates our desks. He's rather cute, with clear blue eyes, red hair and a gentle smile, but I never made a move, because not knowing is better than rejection in my opinion. It's not that I look unappealing, but courage isn't one of my strengths, to say at least. With straight black hair and black eyes, I'm no stunner, but I think I'm seen as generally attractive. Combined with an average 5'10 frame, I fit well into the median. "Hey Jason, do you need anything from the vending machine? I ought to have a break now, my fingers are killing me from all this typing," he smiles at me as he flexes his hand muscles. He's taller than me, and slightly toned, and I briefly take a peek at the veins of his forearms. I look up at him from my desk, and my stomach suddenly reminds me that I haven't eaten anything after breakfast, and more than ten hours have passed since then. "I-err. Could you get me a bar or something? Just make sure it has like, a gazillion calories," I reply back and with a nod, I watch him leave our cramped room and disappear into the nearby hallway. His butt perks as he walks away, and I tear my gaze away in case he looks back. Like I said, no courage. Now with my eyes back on the computer screen, I notice a flashing icon in the taskbar, just underneath the opened documents where I'm working on today's lab report. It's a red mail, meaning a message from Headquarters itself. My stomach suddenly feels as if its falling from Mt. Everest. From the rumors I've heard, receiving messages like this generally means one thing: reduced performance and subsequent termination. My hand trembles as I move the mouse towards the blinking message, and then I click. >CODE SS-A: IMMEDIATE EVACUATION< It has come to our attention that an accident occurred in Laboratory 5 of the Bioengineering Section. We have a verified report of a potential Bio-Agent human contamination. As such, we are requesting Labs 1, 2, 3 and 4 and their subsequent intern centers to be evacuated until the situation has been resolved. We have contacted emergency services and a team of first responders have been stationed outside the building. Do not be afraid. The situation is currently under control, and so we urge you to evacuate as calmly as possible. Thank you for your mandatory cooperation. The moment my eyes read the last sentence of the message, the white lights in the room suddenly go out and are immediately replaced by a bright, ominous crimson that bathes the walls in red. I look at my hands, and I see them shaking, a bad omen from my experiences. It's just an evacuation, calm down! The computer screen is displaying the message again, now flooded with warning signs and a map showing the nearest escape. Then, as if the lights weren't enough, a blaring wail begins echoing through the intern center, a screeching sound so loud that it floods out all other noises and senses. I can hear the faint screams of the nearby interns, three girls and two guys my age that I never introduced myself to. A primal fear has tainted their eyes, and if I had a mirror, I'd probably have the same kind of horror carved on my face. Oh crap. OH CRAP. The combination of the red lights with the roaring sounds of the alarm made me feel as if someone had opened a portal to Hell and let something truly infernal come out of it. Some interns scramble to run towards the door, while others are left behind to try and take their personal objects with them. All of them are shouting and screaming, and it makes me want to cry in fear, even though I know that there's no immediate danger. I try to drown my own scream from escaping my throat, but it only results in a pathetic sound that reminds me of a dying cat. Thankfully, the human body is a work of art in terms of survival, and so my animal instincts kick in and I find myself running for the exit corridor. The only perk of working in Lab 1 is that its nearest to the escape doors, which should lead to the safety of the outside parking lot. And so, I join in the rampant run towards the exit, only taking my phone with me and leaving everything else behind. The security guards that are usually stationed out of each center have disappeared to somewhere unknown, and that makes me feel a tinge of anger. They're supposed to be here to protect us, aren't they? Did they actually just abandon their posts and left us all to fend for ourselves?! I push the thoughts away and focus on my current task: escape this hellhole as fast as possible. I didn't want to wait and find out just what exactly had escaped from Lab 5, but in my frenzied panic, a zombie apocalypse was the only thing that came up my mind, even though I knew that the chances of that happening was more science fiction that real-life. Maybe it was a bio-engineered bacterium that caused a number of diseases; maybe it was just modified corn that was somehow sneaked out of the lab. The exit doors are now just in front of me, and so I push them with glee and panic, letting the evening wind hit me straight in the face. I quickly join the rest of my intern group, our faces drained of colour and still shaking from this possibly traumatic experience. But everything was over. We had successfully evacuated from the facility, and so we could go home now, right? We would wait for the other groups to come join us, and then everything would be fine. As soon as that happy thought crossed my mind, a ten-person squad of people in hazmat suits surrounded us. We couldn't see their faces, as the sun had set an hour ago and only the cloudy sky was reflected back from the glass. They screamed at us to make a line, so they could spray us with a primary disinfectant vapor, and then the tsunami of questions started pouring out of their mouths, the constant stream being muffled by the hazmat suits. Before we could even begin to answer them, something absorbed all of our collective collection away. The doors of the building suddenly bulged outwards, and more than twenty people start running screaming outside. I recognize the cute intern in the horde, any trace of smile having been wiped clean out of his face, and subsequently replaced with an all-known terror. But something was different. I couldn't pinpoint what exactly, but his eyes betrayed a whole different level of fear, not the mindless panic and chaos that my group and I exhibited. And then we all heard it. A hissing sound emanating from the doors. It sounded like a giant snake, really. My imagination was quick to fill up the gaps with the horrors of animals mutated beyond recognition. The horde of interns was quick to take many steps back from the escape doors, and I saw many familiar faces, even a friend of mine. I had never seen Luke so scared in his life. I couldn't move from my spot to go and join him. Somehow, my body was completely frozen, with the exception of my hands, which were still shaking. The hissing increased in pitch, and everything stayed still. As I saw later in the news, the explosion obliterated the entire laboratory, along with many of its occupants.

My best friend was always quite a weakling-he was really tall, 6 foot 5, but never weighed more than 165lbs Until he made some changes... I think it all started some years ago. He just turned 16. At this time My body was already quite well developed. My arms were at 15.75 inches, my legs were big and I had some abs and noticeable pecs. That was when I started working out. I often picked on my friend and fun wrestled him as he had no chance against me (I was 6 feet tall- almost 6 inches shorter than him but weighed 170lbs). It was so funny to see him trying to get out of a headscissor or a headlock by using all his strenght. He someday told me not to humiliate him any longer because he’d feel extremely sad and weak... So when he turned 17 he started hitting the gym too. His first half year transformation was insane! He put on 33lbs! From 165 to 198 lbs. His arms swell like nothing I had ever seen, he probably had 13inch arms but now they were at 15.75! (Mine were 17in at this time.) His legs started to show some muscles and his pecs were already as big as mine. He started to show some abs too. So today, 3.5 years later he’s 20 and took going to the gym quite serious - primarily because he wanted to become a better Football player. We ALWAYS went to the gym together but he gained much faster than I did. He pretty soon was able to deadlift 440lbs several times and benchpress 330lbs once. His legs are at 30inches and his chest at 47inches circumference. His arms don’t look like arms anymore- they passed the 19 inch mark as mine rested only at 18. His abs were fucking ripped and his bulging obliques formed an awesome V-line. He weighed 245lbs and had bulging abs. Just imagine that. People were afraid of him, for example when we went out partying and someone was in his way, they immediately apologised. Also tons of girls felt up his arms and pecs as he bounced them well visible under his tshirt in the middle of the dance floor. One day we were at our flat in the city and had some friends over. We were all quite drunk and made fun of each other. I somehow said something stupid about him. He stood up and “fun wrestled” me. But what was fun for him was hell for me. He grabbed my arms, wrapped them around me, threw me onto the couch, sat down on me, wrapped only one of his huge hands around my throat and said:,, Never disrespect me again in front of everyone else” I was shocked. He was fucking strong. Not even I could have finished him that fast three years ago. He could have killed me in less than 15 seconds if he wanted to... As everyone left he came to me. I thought he’d say sorry or something but instead he just said:,, Now I’m the stronger one of us -,,SHRIMP“! The FAR stronger one! It’s my time to humiliate you now!” I was shook. At that point I was really afraid of him, towering in front of me with his huge muscles. I just said ok, and took some steps away from him, turned around and started going to my room. When he just silently said:,,Now is the time to humiliate YOU...” I turned around and saw how he took off his shirt, uncovering his huuuge pecs and ripped abs. I could almost see the blood rushing through the veins on his chest and arms. I was really afraid at this moment. He threw his shirt to me. “Smell it!” “No, why should i?”, I said “Because I am the alpha now! Sooner or later you’ll smell on it!” He ran to me, grabbed my neck from behind and rubbed his shirt into my face. “But why just smell my shirt, if you could smell... ME!” He turned me around and flexed his arm. “Kiss this biceps.” I just looked at him. “KISS IT!” He pushed my head against his peak and flexed it intermittently. He dragged my head from his biceps over his armpit to his pecs and gave me a bearhug. “Stop! You’re hurting me!” I screamed. He just laughed:,, Hahaha! So what?! That’s not even 50% of my strenght!” He tightened the bearhug even more and bounced his meaty, massive, naked pecs into my face. I got really hard and just hoped that he didn’t notice. My trousers were quite loose and that’s when he noticed. “What have we got here? Lil’ omega boy is aroused by some real steel muscles overpowering him?”, he said as he let go of the bearhug. He dropped me onto the couch. He had me in a headlock immediately. He wrapped his huge biceps around my... my.... mouth?! He really was playing with me... as I wanted to bite his biceps he flexed it, laughed and said: ,,Watch out for your teeth, weakling!” He wrapped his arms around my neck now- totally cutting off my air supply. The only thing that didn’t make me pass out was the fact that he flexed and bounced his 19 inch bicepspeak intermittently. But as he stopped I had to tap. He totally let go of me. I was stunned. It could have been that easy?! His arms were almost half way back at him as he wrapped them around y neck again, layed on my back and said:,, Only weaklings tap...” and he made me pass out. I woke up again. All I saw were his massive calves because he put me in a headscissor while I was knocked out. First thing I noticed were all those veins running down his super hairless tree trunk legs. Wait. What was that? He only took off his shirt before?! And he wore a long blue Jean just before he sent me to sleep... Does that mean that he’s... naked...? ,,Ah, so you’re back, twink! Now you get to feel how it is to be totally humiliated.After tensing his massive quads a few times he somehow turned me around so that now my neck was just a bit above his knee I was facing towards his... cock. I could see his massive, vascular 30inch tree trunk legs. But what impressed me at least as much as his muscles was that cock. It was limp, but really thick and already quite long. It was waaay bigger than mine... actually I‘ve never seen such a massive prick, not even in porn He shove it up my throat and I felt it growing in my mouth.... It filled out the whole space in my mouth as it grew bigger and bigger. It was crazy how big it actually was. Because of his massive tree tunk legs and his overall massive frame his dick was much bigger than it seemed. It already almost filled out my mouth as it was limp. But as it got hard I felt it growing down my throat. Inch by inch. I tried to bend my head backwards but his huge quads were in my way. I gagged and nearly suffocated again because I didn’t know what cut off my airway more, his leg muscles which he flexed all the time or his giant cock... As he got fully erected he started talking to me:,, So, lil weakling! U remember when u were the stronger one of us? Those times are over now and will never come back again! I am the alpha now! No, I’m more than alpha... I’m a god!” He grabbed my hair and moved my head, so that I was giving him a blowjob right now. ,,Well twink, just accept it, I am way stronger than you are.” He started moving his hips. ,,I could easily break you into pieces, just look at my arms, man! They are way bigger than yours! Hmm, if I am a muscle god, u should also treat me like one!” He took my left hand and laid it onto his pec. He started bouncing it. After a while he slid my hand over his rock hard abs. Up and down, up and down with his cock still deep down in my throat. I could feel all his masculinity rush through his cock and his pulse beating in those massive muscles. He then loosened the legscissors and slowly moved my head back from his cock. It looked like it never wanted to end. He pulled out and pulled out, i was really amazed that all that fit inside my mouth. It must have been at least 9inches long... I was totally out of breath as he got up to kneel in front of me on the couch. It was so impressive... he started flexing all his muscles. He did a double biceps pose, flexed his rocky abs, bounced his pecs, tensed his traps. Totally naked. ,,Don’t you get it?!”, he shouted at me as he again reached out for my neck and pulled my face to his chest. He rubbed my face all over those gorgeous pecs and abs. ,,You are my little bitch by now! You are supposed to do everything I command you! I mean, you could try to resist but in the end there’s nothing you could do against me...!”, he said. ,,You should clean up my muscles. Too bad I didn’t sweat by wrestling with u... guess I’d have to work out with you now to get started.” He commanded me to get naked too. He then told me to get on his shoulders to do some pullups. My cock was rock hard all the time and pressing against his lower back. As he went down to do some pushups he told me to get on his back. I did so. He started pushing. It still seemed very easy for him. And then I noticed something. I was in the perfect position to get him in a headlock. Should I really dare to do this? It the only way I could show him that I’m not that weak as he says. I slowly moved my arm under his throat, pulled it back to me And locked it with my other arm. I had him. I had this muscle monster in a real headlock- HIS throat against MY biceps. But what was that? Quite unimpressed he just stood up and started running backwards into the wall. He really bumped me in quite hard but I still had him. I could feel him loose his breath and he started to panic a bit. Now he took together all his left over strength and bowed over, throwing me over his head with my back hitting the floor. Fuck. I probably gonna be dead now. He stood up from his kneeling position and what I saw was frightening. His legs and arms as well as his lower abs and chest were totally covered in veins. They were bulging on his totally pumped muscles. He was breathing very hard and heavy. ,,You really shouldn’t have done that! You know what I gotta do now!!!”, he said really angry. He ran over to me, just like a fucking tank, his pecs were jumping with every step. His massive limp dick was bouncing too. He punched me in my stomach making me go to the ground. Then he wrapped his 19inch arms around my neck, adjusted them a bit an flexed them. I was really afraid that he was going to kill me now... I tapped but passed out again... I came back... I wasn’t dead?! I opened my eyes and saw him towering over me. His massive 30inch legs, his huge cock, those swelling ripped abs, his crazy arms and everything was still covered in those thick veins. He truly looked like an animal. ,,I don’t know why you don’t get it weakling! I am the alpha now, I’m almost twice your size, you stand no chance against me!!”, he said. He wrapped both his big muscular long fingers around my neck and lifted me up with his bare hands- choking me at the same time. I was some inches above the ground, just so that my eyes were on the same level as his. He stared into my eyes like a wild beast right before breaking the neck of it’s prey. In a matter of no time he dropped me and held me in a bearhug. I could feel his massive chest and ripped abs on my limp and weakened body... My cock grew rock hard and pressed against his upper quad. ,,U like that?!”, he said as he squeezed me harder. I wanted to say something but I just wasn’t able anymore. I had no air, no strength and was totally done... ,,Awww, lil boy is so exhausted he can’t speak no more... HAHAHAH WHAT A WEAKLING!”, he screamed and tightened the bearhug even more. I felt his monster cock grow bigger and bigger too-pressing against my (much less ripped) abs. He made me pass out again... I wasn’t even aware that a bearhug could make you pass out... As I regained my consciousness I found myself still in his arms. ,,It’s so easy to overpower you. Guess how easy it would be to kill you! But then I’d have nobody to worship my muscles. Well except all those girls...”, he said. He dropped me on the floor and I was amazed by what I saw... A ripped monster with huge bulging muscles all covered in veins - jerking a huge cock... ,,I sweat just a little, twink. But enough for you to clean me up.” He hit a double biceps pose and made me stand up. I didn’t have enough energy to ask or even just say something anymore. I got his point. He was so submissive... I should have done all this three years ago with him... Back when I was able to do that... ,,LICK THEM!”, he said flexing his biceps. I did so. And I loved it. The salty taste of his testosterone loaded sweat. The form of his arms with all those veins... I cleaned his hole body. From his armpit to his massive chest. He bounced it so his pecs would jump a few inches what made it hard to keep my tongue on his skin. I caught a lot of “underboob sweat”. He grabbed my head and lead it around while I licked his washboard abs. I knew that it’s not gonna be enough for him... he pressed me downwards even more. Now my mouth was at those big balls. They smelled really manly. He didn’t even have to command me. I sucked up all his sweat and started swallowing his massive prick. I wanted to give him the best blowjob he ever received... I felt up his muscles with my hands. As I run my fingers down his abs with one hand and worshipped the inside of his huge thighs he came. ,,Mhhhhh... Now you know your place. I don’t allow you to spit it out! Eat it- it’s extra protein for you!” I really loved his taste. I chewed on it and I hope that his testosterone loaded load will give me a boost in strength... I’ll probably suck him off more often, perhaps I’m gonna become as big as him some day....

I woke up to the sun shining directly in my face. I looked over at the clock. 7:02. It was too damn early to get out of bed. My boyfriend had me wrapped in his arms. We both loved giving each other physical affection. Every night, and I mean every night we would cuddle up in bed. His 6’2, 245 lbs, hairy frame cradles my 5’8, 130 lbs tiny body. His beard and chest hair brush up against my back. His legs wrap around mine and his arms keep me in place. I try to drift back to bed but I can’t. The sun is right in my face. I try to work my way out of my boyfriends big arms but I can’t. His muscle mass keeps me protected and unable to move. I don’t want to wake him so I have to think of another option. I try to pull one of my legs out but they are locked tight. There is no use I’ll have to stay beside him until my boyfriend wakes up or changes positions. That’s it. I just have to get my boyfriend to change positions. I wiggle my legs to see if he can feel them move. Nothing. I wiggle my arms to see if he feels them. Nothing. I wiggle my whole body and I feel him stir a little bit! Welp! It looks like the only thing that’ll get him to move is if I grind on him. I start to move my butt up and down against the fabric of his cock. I hear my boyfriend moan as I start to go up and down. I can feel his erection grow bigger and bigger. His moans start to become deeper. I feel his body moving. Uhhhhh My boyfriend moans in my ear. His deep groans make me horny. My own little erection starts to stiffen in my underwear. As I continue to grind I can feel his erection starting to grow it’s full 8 inches. “Babe?” he says in my ear. “Yeah?” ”What are you doing?” “I wanted to get up. But I was stuck in your arms. So I thought that I’d try and make you shift your weight.” ”Hmm,” was all he said in response. Then my boyfriend shifted weight. He shifted until he was completely on top of me. His weight crushed me and my erection against the mattress. “Looks like your plan was right. Get me to cum and maybe I’ll shift my weight.” He giggled. I reached behind me and pulled down my underwear and then his as well. I moved up and down as best as I can. But I couldn’t move a lot because of my boyfriends weight. I was having trouble moving his big and hairy frame. “Let me help you,” he said. I felt his weight lift off of me. “Better?” ”A little,” I said. Then I felt his big erection slip into my tight asshole. “How about now?” ”Mm, hmm,” I responded. I felt his weight come back down on me. I started grinding against him and my boyfriend started to move with me. As I grinder my erection was growing harder. Feeling the weight and power of my boyfriend on top of me was so sexy. He is so strong and powerful. The weight of him is crushing me and tiring me. He can throw me around as he pleases and destroy me with his muscle mass. As we grind together I hear him groan in my ear. I shudder more and more as the weight makes me turned on. Together we both let out a groan. My boyfriend cums in my asshole and I on the sheet. I fee his weight come off of me and I can breathe again. “There now you can get up.”

Hey everyone! This is the first chapter in a story that I’m in the middle of writing. All feedback is welcome, but keep in mind that this is the first story that I have decided to make public, so be gentle Let me know if you want to see more! Chapter 1 “Is there anything left in the trunk?” Nico yelled to his mom from inside the house. “No, it looks like we got everything!” she called back. “Finally!” Nico said with a relieved sigh as he sank down onto the couch. He propped his legs up on the coffee table, leaned back, and took a deep breath, relishing the salty smell of the ocean that was wafting in through the open door; it had been too long since he and his mother had visited their beach house. They used to go every summer but had rented it out for the past four years to help cover Nico’s college tuition. Now that he had just graduated though, they could finally enjoy it themselves again. As Nico’s mom came back into the house and started carrying her bags to her bedroom, Nico’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw that he had received a text from his friend Will. Hey, I saw you and your mom drive up a few minutes ago; do you want to come over to my place and hang out? A broad grin stretched across Nico’s face as he hurriedly typed out his response. Sure! I’ll be there in a second! As soon as he hit send, Nico sprang up from the couch. “Mom!” he shouted. “I’m going over to see Will!” And without waiting for a response, he ran out the door. Nico had been excited to come back to the beach house for a lot of reasons. But the most important of those reasons had been Will. Nico met him for the first time twelve years ago when Will’s family bought the beach house across the street from his. There weren’t very many other kids their age in the neighborhood at the time, so it was inevitable that the two boys would end up spending lots of time together, and they eventually became very close friends. For the next eight years, Nico and Will spent their summers practically joined at the hip; they filled their days playing volleyball on the beach, racing each other through the ocean, and doing many other, usually competitive, activities. Part of the reason Nico enjoyed spending time with Will so much was admittedly that Nico pretty much always won regardless of what the contest was; he was two years old than Will, which gave him an advantage in strength and speed that Will always had trouble overcoming. However, Will always accepted his losses with grace and even took Nico’s playful teasing in stride. As Nico walked up to Will’s house and rang the doorbell, he felt his stomach twisting into knots of excited anticipation. It was strange to think that four whole years had passed since they had last seen each other; he could picture Will as if he had just seen him yesterday. At any second, he would be greeted by the sight of a skinny guy with wavy blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a radiant smile that could cheer him up even on his worst days. A few seconds later, the door opened, and Nico’s mouth fell open in shock. The guy standing in front of him was not the Will that Nico remembered from four years ago. Sure, his face was the same, and his smile was just as radiant as ever, but that was where the similarities stopped. Gone was the small, skinny guy Nico had once known, replaced by a tall young man with a powerful, muscular build. His once narrow shoulders had widened, his chest broadened, and his arms thickened. The tight t-shirt he was wearing looked almost as if it were begging for mercy from the incredible muscles it was struggling to contain; the fabric was stretched taut against a pair of firm pecs, and the sleeves just barely covered a few inches of his bulging biceps. “Nico!” Will exclaimed with a beaming grin and then pulled him into a bruising bear-hug. Nico felt all of the air rush out of his lungs as a pair of muscular arms crushed his ribcage and pressed him against the firmest torso he had ever felt in his life. He made a feeble attempt to return the hug, but found that his arms could barely reach around the wide expanse of rippling muscle that was Will’s back. It felt like Will would never let him go; Nico was beginning to feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen. He tried to extricate himself from the embrace, but Will was astonishingly strong; it felt like his body was made of steel. Nico was completely immobilized and helpless. Just as Nico felt himself beginning to lose consciousness, Will released him. The moment he was free, he collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. “Oh, shit!” Will said, kneeling down and putting his hand on Nico’s shoulder. “Nico, what’s wrong?” Nico shook his head but was unable to reply through his panting and coughing. After a few seconds, he had recovered enough to say, “That hug . . . cough . . . was pretty tight.” “Oh,” Will said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head and causing one of his biceps to swell to the size of a grapefruit. “Sorry about that. Didn’t realize I was crushing you.” “It’s okay,” Nico said with a nervous laugh, getting shakily back to his feet. “I’m fine now.” “Are you sure?” Will asked, still concerned. “Do you want me to get you some water?” “No, I’m okay. Really,” Nico repeated more confidently this time, trying to stand up straight and not wince at the pain of his probably bruised ribs. “Alright, if you’re sure” Will said reluctantly. “Come on; let’s get you inside.” He put an arm around Nico and gently steered him into the house.

This is the first chapter of a fictional story about the relation between men of different ages. Characters are not real. It's not my intention to offend anyone. I hope you enjoy it. Peace. Stay safe, stay home. {It's my first attempt in English. Yikes!} Helping a veteran? I One more week… Memorial weekend was closing in. It was the sole thing occupying Nathaniel Coe’s mind. He’s been planning the weekend for months. Why? His baby brother, Nicholas, will stay with him. His brother, his nephew and her sister in-law were Nathaniel’s only family. Even in those moments when Nate, as everybody called him, was ready to quit, Nicholas always managed to cheer him up. Nate loved Nickie more than anything. After submitting his report ahead of time for the Board’s review, he stopped by the CEO’s office. With a knock on the door frame. “Boss, all’s done. I’ll see you on Monday.” “Hey Nate! Did you include Donovan and Cheryl in the distribution list?” Said Samuel Davis. Mr. Davis a man of few words, in his early 50s. He was sharp as a razor. Handsome, and from what Nate has heard in some of the company’s parties, well-endowed and straight as they come. Mr. Davis was a man’s man. Since Nate and Mr. Davis have worked together for over ten years, they share mutual admiration and respect. “Sure did!” “Good… See you on Monday.” Inside the elevator, other guys were in a rush texting back and forth on their phones. For some unexplainable reason, every Friday afternoon was chaotic. Another set of goodbyes and Nate was out in the parking opening the door of his car. Before getting inside, he peeled the tight jacket off his body. The tie went off too to the back seat with the jacket. The dress code made the office look classy, but for a 6’4” 327 pounds man, dressing formally was confining. He had trouble opening the button on the neck, but once he succeeded, two more followed. Feeling less encaged, because his dressy pants and shoes were still on, he started his car. He went straight (as straight as a gay man can) to FoodMarket. The dark clouds he saw when he left the office turned into a storm like rain. Luckily, he found a spot close to the entrance. He grabbed a big grocery bag from the collection he had in the mesh behind the passenger’s seat. He breathed in deeply, but carefully enough to keep the buttons of his shirt in place and dashed out of the car to the store. The place was not as packed as he thought it would be. Maybe, being there at 3:30 PM put him ahead of the heavy buyers. Anyway, it was an easy in easy out. It was still raining, but not as heavily as before. While opening the trunk of his Escalade. He heard a loud ‘Shit!’ coming from the sidewalk. Standing under the rain there was a man with a cane and a mess of groceries on the curb in front of him. Nate dropped his bag on the back seat and grabbed his umbrella from the trunk. He went to the man. “Hey mister!” but noticing the man’s VA hat, immediately he changed his words and extended his hand. “Sarge, let me help you!” The man was about 5’9” in a wear down military jacket. Although not as tall as Nate, the guy’s stance made him look taller and somehow commanding. Maybe in his late 40s, early 50s. The salt and pepper stubble on his square chin contrasted nicely with his espresso skin. And the poor soul was soaked to the bone. The man had an upset gaze, just trying to come to terms with himself. The deep voice made him look to his side to a wall standing next to him. His eyes went up until he had to tilt his head. He had seen big guys in the squad, but none like this one. Enormous was the word that came to his mind. “Thank you!” looking down at the mess of groceries. “I don’t want to impose, but I’d really appreciate that you stopped to help this old man. Paul Burks,” he said meeting Nate’s extended paw with his smaller hand in a vigorous handshake. “No sweat, sarge. Hold on to this” handing the man his umbrella, “before your teeth get any wetter. Nathaniel Coe, Nate. Nice to meet you!” Paul was surprised of himself. He’s never engaged in a conversation with a stranger that easily. But the man didn’t trigger an alarm in his head. Nate kneeled to gather the groceries that were salvageable. Eggs had seen better days, butter was a blob, and not a single glass item was intact. “Come with me sarge. Let’s get you out of the rain.” Nate opened the passenger’s door. Then he dropped the wet groceries on the back seat. Next, he held the umbrella for Paul to let him sit in the car. Paul jumped in with ease, which surprised Nate since he had a walking stick. Closing the door, Nate went to the trunk of the car to pick up his ‘emergency kit’. As a kid, his dad taught him to keep a bag in his car with a change of clothes and towels and blankets for any emergency. Inside the car, he opened the bag. He handed the smaller man a towel, picking the blanket for himself. Paul was already out of the soaked jacket which left him in a gray t-shirt that was clinging to his wet body. His hat was on the dashboard. He grabbed the towel and began to dry himself, starting with his bald head. Then he moved down to his chest and arms. Nate watched with fascination the stringy muscles on the man’s arms and chest. The hairy forearms’ veins had veins! They flexed in interesting, almost erotic ways. A manly faint smell emanated from Paul. Nothing overwhelming, more like fresh sweat and deodorant. Nate’s cock stirred in its confinement. “Do you feel better?” “Yes, much better. Thank you for saving me from the deluge.” Nate smiled, then said nodding at the hat on the dashboard. “I see you are a veteran.” Paul looked at the wet hat. “Retired many years ago. Well, this leg retired me.” “I’m sorry to hear that, but I’m glad you’re back home.” After an odd silence. “Let’s get a hot coffee in us before we get sick. My treat! Café&Coffee is right there.” Nate started his car and went to the drive through. “What would you like?” “Latte, no sugar.” “Perfect! I’ll have one too.” While waiting for the order, Paul and Nate started to chat. “How did you know I was a sergeant?” “It was a guess. My dad was a sergeant major. The way you guys carry yourselves around and the way you stand is different.” “I was a first sergeant. Too long ago...” Nate handed Paul the coffee. “You talk about it as if it happened centuries ago. How old are you anyway? 48? 49?” Paul almost spewed the coffee in his mouth and started laughing. “Sorry to ruin your guesstimate. Ha! Ha! Ha! I’m 62. But thanks for the compliment. And the coffee!” “62! Damn! You look no older than 50... I wish I look as good when I reach 40.” “You will never look like me. I mean, half of you must weight more than three of me!” Taking another sip, “You know, the military could use a man like you.” “Nah… I’m 36, no longer military material. Besides, it was my dad’s wish that my brother and I finished a career.” Paul was rubbing his left leg absentmindedly. Noticing the movement, Nate took a peek at Paul’s bulky crotch bulge. Before he was caught, he said, “Is it OK to say thank you for your service?” “I should be the one thanking you for saving me from the rain. Even my thoughts are wet! I did what my job asked me to do. I don’t regret it. But not once it passed through my mind to go around asking for ‘thank yous’. Anyways, it’s very much appreciated.” Every now and then and between sips of his cup, Nate took the chance the steal glances of the man next to him. Paul looked amazingly ripped for 62. Nate had a thing for healthy looking mature men, like his boss. The cane just added to Paul’s sex appeal. Nothing around Paul said gay, but Nate was feeling attracted to the mature man with shredded muscles sitting in his car. So, he came up with an idea to get to know him better. “Sarge. How far do you live from here? I’d like to drive you to your home.” “The walk to my place takes close to 25 minutes. Not a bad workout, but, with this leg, it’s not the same as when I was younger. I have a place in Parker Gardens.” “Then, allow me to drive you to your place. You get out of those wet clothes. Then, I’d like to bring you back to the store so you can get the things you lost. Sounds like a plan?” Paul considered the offer for a while. He was afraid of the man, knowing his military training will help him out of almost any situation. But this guy was BIG. Then, there was the rain. Carrying the few things home with a cane on a slippery sidewalk was like calling for trouble again. He really needed the groceries. It was decided. “Yes, we have a plan.” “Great! Let’s say I’ll come by your place, sevenish?” “Seven it is.” “Well sarge show me where home is!” Paul asked Nate to turn right on the intersection. Minutes later Nate was parking his car in front of a nicely kept gated complex, Parker Gardens. The rain has become a drizzle. There was a guy in uniform smoking outside the security cabin. “Hey sarge! You got lucky today!” said William, the security man. Paul turned to greet the man in uniform. “William, I did get lucky today! The rain was insane!” Back to Nate, “Nathaniel, thank you for the ride. I owe you.” “No sweat Sergeant Paul. I’ll be back at seven. Here, this is my cell number. You are welcome to call any time. I’m always in the mood for a good conversation and a coffee, or a beer.” “Well, thank you again. I’ll be ready at seven. You’re really doing a lot for me. Thank you!” “No sarge. You did a lot for me, for us. It’s time to show you how important you are.” Getting inside, Nate started the car, “See you at 7!” And so, he was gone. [Re-postedto fix font color.]

Pt1 This is a story about Jack, Jack is no ordinary 19yr old……………. “COME ON ONE MORE!!!!” shouted Dean, Dean was jacks training partner. “ARRRGGGHHHHHH” grunted Jack as he lifted the last of his 12 reps on bench press on to the rack, jack stood up and looked in the mirror, staring back at him was a sight that drew gasps from both dean and others in the gym. Jack was a 6ft brick shit house. His chest was rippling with thick dense rock hard muscle, the vest he had on could not contain the sheer size of his pecs, they were so thick every time he breathed in the vest would ride up his torso and begin to tear under the sheer mass of his chest. “add another 25kg on each side mate” he asked dean Dean placed the weights onto the bar which was already loaded with 300kg, bringing it upto 350kg. Jack repped out another 12 reps like it was nothing, re racked the bar and got up again. “This is to easy, I need a real challenge! Whack another 100 on!” Dean added the required weight so that the bar had 450kg loaded on it. “ Man this is crazy shit jack, can’t believe what you’re doing, your pressing over 4x my body weight!!” “Well when you’re as big n strong as me there’s no room for light weights, its heavy as fuck or nothing at all, you don’t get pecs like these by lifting sissy weights!!” Jack bounced his enormous pecs, each bounce shifted his perilously frail vest close to breaking point. Jack laid down on the bench, got his tree trunk arms into position and with a mighty grunt lifted the bar from the rack, each rep was greeted with an almighty grunt, his pecs were bulging with blood pumping round his massive chest. Jack managed 8 reps before re racking. He stood up. “Arrrghhhhhh, im fucking pumped man, look at me? This is what u call pure beastly muscle!!” Jack was pumped, like nothing anyone had ever seen , he moved closer to the mirror, ripped off his vest to reveal the rest of his enormous body, his pecs still filled with blood and rippling from his bench press, sweat was dripping down to his stomach which resembled a block of marble which had had eight large chunks carved into it, his triceps were also rippling from the routine, his tri’s n bi’s were huge at least 35” round, veins snaking down to his beefed up forearms, his giant boulder shoulders looked strong enough to barge through brick walls, his meaty traps stretched up his thick bull neck and his lats were two thick slabs of rock jutting out of his sides. It truly was a sight to behold for everyone not at least dean who was trying so hard to hide his erection going on in his pants. “Jesus jack you look incredible, I’d hate to see a guy cross you!!” dean said with a hint of jealousy. “if they did, they would end up like this!” Jack picked up an olympic sized barbell with no weights on and began to bend it in half like it was made out of rubber, then tossed it aside. “anyway dean im 400lb of freaking huge muscle, I’d be surprised if anyone would cross me!!” Dean gave a laugh of a guy who was like ‘yeah I suppose so but really wanna see it’. “true enough, ok now its my go!!” Dean was inferior to Jack in height, weight and strength so before he could even start his lifting he had to take 400kg worth of weight of the bar. Dean was only 18 and had the physique of a track n field athlete, so he was fairly toned with a bit of size but that size looked skinny compared to Jacks mammoth size. So with 50kg left on the bar dean started his routine. Even though Jack and Dean were good friends jack always took the piss out of dean for his inferior showings, mostly to try and spur him on but also to show his superiority and dominance over him, dean could not help but feel intimidated by jack, he daren’t tell him to shut up or go away in slight trepidation of what jack might do. “ Come on you skinny git, call that heavy lifting I can’t even see your pecs there that small and feeble, if you don’t start tryin harder im gonna crush you, now LIFT!!!” jack’s booming shout reverberated around the gym. Dean finished his first set and sat up, “ Jesus jack im tryin alright!!” Dean bit back a little. “that’s not trying that’s playing safe, you wanna grow ? You want to lift heavy!!! That isn’t heavy look!” Jack then proceeded to lift the loaded bar of the rack with one hand and start repping some shoulder presses, after 20 reps he re racked the bar. “see!!” “alright jack stop showing off ya big headed freak!!” dean sarcastically replied. “Jealous you skinny fuck? Well you better be coz unlike you I wanna grow! I wanna get bigger and stronger than ever before.” “ well maybe you do mate but im an athlete, my sport does not require me to get big n bulky, so i maintain what I have!” Dean tried to hide the fact he actually likes jack being all dominant etc coz it makes him hard, and whether jack will like the fact that dean loves being with this muscle mammoth. After dean had finished his chest routine he and jack decided to hit some biceps. As Jack was so big and strong the dumbells the gym had were to light for him so jack had to curl using an Olympic bar and plates, he started of light by curling 100kg for 15 reps, “easy!! Whack another 250kg on dean.” Dean added the weight. Jack composed himself, lifted the bar off the ground and slowly started to curl the 350kg bar, with each curl his massive biceps ballooned to unprecedented sizes, thick veins popped and stretched with every move, after hitting 10 reps he placed the bar back on the floor, looked in the mirror and hit a double bi pose, his biceps bulged and formed a gargantuan mound of granite muscle that looked bigger than his head, he relaxed then hit it again this time managing to squeeze an extra inch on top of his already impressive bi’s. Dean had never seen jack hit a bi pose before, his cock was now so hard it was making an impression in his shorts. “ WOW jack they are awesome man fucking huge!! Im gobsmacked!” “I can see your impressed, I only have to look at your shorts to notice that, ya big gay, come over here?” Dean walked over to where jack was, the size comparison was breathtaking, next to jack dean looked like a twig. “take your top off” jack asked Dean didn’t dare disagree so he took his shirt off, his tight body glistened with sweat. “now stand infront of me and flex!” Dean flexed his biceps, moderate sized peaks appeared from his arms, they looked pretty cut but looked no bigger than 15”. To rub the salt in more jack then flexed his bi’s behind him, his bi’s clearly 3x the size of deans. Then without warning Jack picked dean up and started curling him, every curl took deans face to within cms of jacks biceps, jack curled dean 20 times before putting him down. “you like that gay boy, your cock sure did!!” Dean looked down and saw a dark grey wet patch were he had cummed, he looked up and said, “ that was awesome!!” Jack and Dean made their way to the changing room, got showered and headed home. Pt2 Jack and his younger brother got home from the gym. Jack unlocked the door, “ get inside now boy!” He grabbed hold of dean's shirt and flung him into the house. Dean went flying into the wall with a thud. Dean got back up and rubbed his shoulder. “ Wow master, you threw me like I was a rag doll!” He said in amazement, a huge smile beaming on his face. Jack slammed the door behind him, “ Listen shit bag, You are a rag doll to me boy, a skinny weak runt I'm gonna have so much fun with. Your my slave now, you do exactly what i say boy, I own you, I'm bigger, stronger and far superior than you in every way possible. You go to bed when I say, you get up when I get up, you cook what I tell you to cook, you get the picture boy?” “ Y y yesss master, anything for you, you are by far the biggest and strongest person I have ever seen!” Dean replied. “ Would master like me to do anything?” he asked Jack. Jack walked over to his younger bro, grabbed him by the neck and lifted him high in the air. Dean's feet were dangling at least 3ft off the floor, Dean was gasping for air, his legs flaing about, he looked down at his brothers menacing face, his eyes bulged at the sight of jacks huge, ripped, juicy muscled forearm easily hosting his light body up, Dean also had a view of his brothers immense pecs and collosal shoulders, both rippled with devastating power. Jack finally drops Dean on the floor, Dean coughs and splutters as air returns to his lungs. Jack stood over him his massive bulk dominating the space around them. “ Master would like to know what it feels like for you to be so easily man handled by your brother, how it makes you want to worship my huge muscles and witness my immense power?” he asked. He folded his huge arms across his even bigger chest, both fighting of space. Dean looks up at his brother, watching his huge devastating muscles fight for superiority on his body. “ It feels fantastic master, you are so strong you could lift anything, I would happily let you man handle me all time if it means I get to see your fantastic muscles in action. I would love nothing more than to lay my hands on your perfect body master and feel the power those huge muscles possess”. He replied. Jack smiled menacingly. “ Get up boy, take your shirt off!” He demanded. Dean picked himself up and lifted his shirt off his ripped body and tossed it on the sofa. He looked down at his lean ripped body then up to his brothers gargantuan body, he sighed in embarrassment. “ What would you like me to do master?” Dean asked. “ I want you to flex for me boy, I want to see how small and worthless you really are!” with that Jack shoved his bro towards the wall length mirror, Dean flew across the room and stumbled into the mirror. Jack prowled up behind him, he had a tape measure in his hand. “ Flex your bicep now boy.” Jack demanded. Dean knew better than to disagree so he reluctantly accepted and flexed his left bicep, a small hard ripped peak rose up his arm. Jack sniggered, “ my god so small!” He wrapped the tape round dean's arm, “ Christ you are pathetic boy, 12 inches! “ Dean hung his head,” yes master I am pathetic.” Jack then wrapped the tape round dean's chest and again chortled, “ 28in, disgusting, lift your left side shorts up you weed!” Dean obeyed and lifted his shorts up, his skinny athletic legs had a light coating of hair on, Jack knelt down and wrapped the tape round the upper part of the thigh. “ 23in, you are just one lanky piece of shit aren't you boy, how can you be happy looking like that, I've got broomsticks that are bigger than you, here.” Jack throws the tape at Dean, “ time to see what real muscle looks like boy!” Jack started by flexing his gargantuan biceps, peaks that would make Everest look small rose imperiously up his arm, muscle grew on top of muscle. “ Whoa…….” Dean moaned. His hands shaking as he approached his brothers immense arms, he began wrapping it round the peak, he joined the ends together and read the numbers. “ Fuuuuuckkkkk, 34in master, your a monster!” Jack cackled with delight, “ yes a boy I'm a monster, 34 in arms, the best in the business, I'd wipe the floor in any competition, now my chest boy!” Dean moved the tape to Jacks impossibly pecs, he started to wrap but jacks body was so huge and wide he had trouble keeping it there,” er er er master can you hold the tape please? “ he asked. Jack laughed, “ am I to wide for your pathetic skinny arms boy, there! “ Jack placed a meaty finger on the tape, Dean continued round his brothers bulk, he eventually joined the ends. “ 78in master, unbelievable! “ Dean was mesmerized by his masters sheer size. “ I could fit your skinny assbody in my pec gap and crush you with there power. Dean shuddered with fear as he took the tape away. “ Now my legs boy!” Jack lifted his shorts leg up to reveal the thickest most densely populated leg of muscle anyone had seen, ridges upon ridges of muscle piled high and wide engulfed his quads. Dean gulped hard, “ Sweet Jesus master your legs are freakishly beastly!” He began to wrap the tape round jacks meaty quad, the two ends met, “ 65in master, incredible! You are a collosal behemoth! “ Dean was opened mouthed at his brothers unbelievable body. “ Boy, come and kneel in front of my leg and open your legs,” demanded Jack. Dean knelt down and spread his legs a little, Jack moved closer placing his right foot in the gap in dean's legs, then looked in the mirror. “ Look boy my quad is wider than your upper body hahah” it was true, one of jacks thighs stuck out at least 15cm each side of dean's body. Dean was drooling. “ Master you are a dream come true, you are ginormous, stronger than anything I know, I am nothing compared to you, I'm weak, worthless, I am……….” He was about to continue but got interrupted my Jack. “ Enough of the talk boy, I know your weak, pathetic, worthless, a sad existence. Christ if you weren't my brother i would have destroyed you by now, you see boy, I want more, much more and your gonna help me get it, I wanna grow more bigger and stronger, so the question is do you wanna help me? Choose your answer carefully! “ Jack cracked his bull thick neck, the sound alone sent shivers down dean's spine. “ Y yyyess master anything you want I will get for you just say!” Dean knelt down and bowed before his brother. “ That's a good boy, now I want food, I need to eat big, get cooking for me boy,time to grow!” Jack ordered Dean to the kitchen. Jack got Dean to cook 1.3kg of lean mince, 500g of wholewheat pasta, 4 scope of optimum nutrition weight gainer and 500g of instant oats, it came to a whopping 6151 cals. Jack slammed it down in 20 mins. “ Boy, get down the shops and get me more food!” “ yes master”. Dean put on his coat and went shopping.

The first sounds of wood cracking make the mouths of each man drop open in shock. They had known it was coming, but there was something in the deep recesses of their brains that made them want to doubt it – to build up the excitement. They liked to think I might not be able to do it. This increases the thrill of it all. A few small slivers of wood sprinkle down to the floor as the sound of splintering continues. The sturdy piece of sports equipment being totally defenseless in this battle. It’s just a wooden bat and two hands. But it’s what those two hands are doing to the bat that makes the small group gasp. It’s not held over a knee or an extra padded head – no, the bat is held straight out by two hands keeping it even with the six pairs of watching eyes. Watching without blinking. Who would want to miss a thing. Wood can be so loud as it is slowly destroyed. I smile – making the men moan, for they realize how easy this is for me. Suddenly, the side of the bat snaps open and jagged shards of wood fan out in protest at being so brutally broken. The six do not breathe . . . time stands still for all of them. It’s a mixture of pure adoration of the strength feat displayed before them and a desire to not let their body give in to the need for release that has been building. My strong hands twist the bat at the same time that I pull – wood struggling loudly to still hold on. It’s no use, though. The bat has lost. Chunks of wood fall to the ground as the once strong piece of gear, and sometimes weapon, is completely ripped in two. The ease with which this has all been done astounds the onlookers. I am happy we still have six dry crotches. I like it when the fun lasts a long time. I like the idea of grown men’s balls turning blue from willing their bodies to not ejaculate. I love that they, too, want to wait. Shocked looks of disbelief and soft, incoherent mumblings of doubt as I put the two shattered pieces of wood together pleases me even more. Each man is now completely oblivious to the fact that there are six of them watching. They feel as if they are alone with me. They are the only one beholding this special show of power. Everyone knows the most important rule of this unusual treat – there is to be no touching of private parts unless the okay is given. A side thrill for myself – controlling them in this way. I can tell it is actually painful to abstain from groping, stroking, or yanking – yet, every man obeys as if his life depended on it. Even in the midst of agony, they want to delay gratification. My record is five spewing at the same time. It always seems that there is one man with almost superhuman resolve to hold out longer than anyone else. However, there has never been anyone to last our entire time together without shooting. The record of actual number of orgasms during a session was set by a husky college football player – he offered four loads in the span of our three hours together. No one has come close to beating – forgive the pun – that display of manly virility and endurance. He had to be carried from the room – even hours later, however, his body was just to wrecked to move on its own. When the two halves of the bat begin to splinter in my powerful grasp, the men begin to comprehend the full extent of my power. I watch as I become much more to them than a showman . . . they begin to view me as almost god-like. My chest has swollen to an unfathomable size as the doubled wood begins to crack apart. They want desperately to touch me . . . but that is also something that is forbidden. Imagining what my hard muscles feel like, I know, doesn’t come close to the real thing – but someone might get hurt if their arm was near the splintering wood. I also believe no one would be able to prevent themselves from spewing if they felt my marbleized body. Since I am already pumped with adrenaline and warmed up from breaking the bat in two, destroying the two combined pieces comes even easier. Moans of lustful pleasure erupt from the group as two pieces become four – the bat now a pile of kindling at my feet. The explosion of sound as wood succumbed to my power was deafening, but the grunts of approval echo even louder in the room when I am done. My expanded pecs are now heaving – lightly covered in sweat that sparkles within the heavy fur that cascades over the bulging mounds. My nipples jut out invitingly, causing all six men to wet their lips with their tongues over and over. Each man had been able to hold the bat prior to the show. Watching their minds verify the thing’s density, weight, and supposed strength was part of what I liked most about these events. It made the reality of what I was going to do for them that much more exciting – and they remembered how indestructible the bat had felt in their hands as they looked at the scraps now on the floor. It takes them a while to catch up, to fully understand what my bulging arms – now jacked from the display of power – had done. I always give the men a few minutes to let the severity of my strength sink in – and to give their crotches a much-needed rest. I am the consummate showman – having learned exactly how to edge a guy to the brink of explosion and then giving him the chance to let the excitement recede like a wave going back out into the ocean. Prolonged release was my middle name. I controlled cocks as easily as I destroyed wood. Everyone’s eyes bounced in time with my chest – heaving up and down. It took a lot of strength to demolish the bat, but I also made it much more dramatic than it actually was – as a way of increasing the inner build-up within each man. I promised the kind of earth-shattering splatter that made grown men become dizzy and need to lie down – and never had I not delivered. No man looked me in the eye, they were too mesmerized by my mammoth pecs. I grabbed the metal bar – the length of a pool cue and as thick as a rolling pin – that was leaning against the wall. The surprise, doubt, and lustful excitement doubled on each face. A baseball bat was child’s play compared to this chunk of steel and every man knew it. My grin got bigger and slightly more devilish than before. I watched as each guy seriously questioned what my actions insinuated I was going to do. Surely there was no way, they all thought, which was exactly what I wanted. Wood was one thing, but hard thick metal was made specifically not to be easily manhandled. I was viewed as way too cocky if I thought I was going to do damage to the substantial bar in my hands. Again, the thing was held out for the men to hold – the six of them taking it in their hands and me watching the bar dip downward as they took on the weight. What I held easily, would have been almost impossible for one of them, alone, and was still a strain for all six. I grabbed the bar back – my hands about the same distance apart on the thing as if I were breaking a baguette in two. The ends of the long thing stuck out as wide as the combined shoulders of the men. Sometimes, I wore an old, tighter-than-hell t-shirt as I did my next feat – just to let the thing be ripped to shreds as my body ballooned from the effort of what I was doing. Today, however, I had decided this particular audience was more interested in thick veins popping up all over my body and seeing my wet matted fur darken as I displayed my strength. I had made the right choice – I saw that I had a little group of fur-lovers. Wood, being ripped in two, screams loudly as it’s broken, but the high-pitched screeching of metal being manipulated in ways that it was never intended to move is definitely much more of a thrill. To many men, the destruction of wood by a man’s big arms is feasible, but the destruction of really thick steel – something that is used to keep skyscraper’s standing – in the same manner is the stuff of superhero movies. This time, there is much more doubt in the eyes staring at me. This makes me extremely happy as my arm muscles explode and my face starts to darken from exertion. The first loud sound the steel emits sends the room into chaos. Hands desperately want to tweak nipples, clamp down on balls, or start moving up and down on hard cocks. There’s also a sudden fear that envelopes the group – grown men realizing they are in the midst of someone much more powerful than them, even put together. It’s that slight nervous panic that gets my juices flowing the hardest – and even makes my strength increase. These men are starting to wonder if they have bitten off more than they can chew. They sense that I could do some serious damage to them if I wanted to – and even in the midst of that dread, they get even more excited. There’s the possibility of much more destruction and that turns them on. All of this intense contemplation, however, stops as soon as the metal bar starts to bend. The men have no idea where to stare – the growing arms, biceps becoming insanely big from tension, the bulging pecs growing massive right in front of them, or the middle of the metal bar as it starts to bump upward because it can no longer withstand the power in my grip. The room is filled with the shrieking of metal having to do what it does not want to do. Six uncovered cocks quiver back and forth from the shrill sound and the sight of steel being weaker than my monstrous biceps. It’s clear, suddenly, that one poor guy will not last. The volcano that is the tip of his cock erupts, his eyes roll up into his head, and his body – stiffened like a board – falls over like a tall tree falling in the forest. His body convulses on the floor as his orgasm continues, even though he is now unconscious. Not one of the other men stops to check on or even look at the downed soldier. They don’t want to miss a thing and they know that each of them will go the path of their overwhelmed comrade at some point. The man just couldn’t take it anymore, that was clear from his deep short moan – ending in a loud gasp – and intense vacuum stomach as his balls blasted juice out his cannon like a Las Vegas fountain. Another rule is that every man must be totally nude. I like to see what my show is doing to their body and it’s a lot more pleasurable if they’re totally uncovered. At first, every guy that partakes of my show is embarrassed and self-conscious of his nudity and that of the other guests. That, however, dissipates as soon as I remove my shirt and reveal my bulging, cut-from-marble body. You can’t be self-conscious when you are so turned on by another guy’s body that you forget your own. Each man certainly feels inadequate and small, but that goes away, too, as soon as I start showing off my strength. I look down to affirm that my first victim is still breathing – can’t have a reputation of causing heart failure or cardiac arrest. He’s certainly still alive, still ejaculating, and has the biggest grin on his face – all, even while unconscious. I am constantly amazed how weak most men are when it comes to holding back an orgasm. The dick definitely controls a man’s body, however. It’s not the brain and it’s certainly not the heart. It’s the thing that can make a man’s eyes disappear in his head and his body shake uncontrollably. It’s the one thing – the cock - that can’t be controlled no matter how hard one tries. I love a guy that thinks he won’t get hard during one of my shows. That man is usually the one that shoots rigid the fastest. But even if, by some miracle, a guy doesn’t get a boner just from seeing my huge muscled torso, I can always count on that snapping of wood, as I destroy the bat, to make his cock stand at attention. It’s just the way of the world – strength displays electrify men. That’s why we love the Hulk and Thor. It’s why movies and television shows about Hercules are always so popular. It’s even why we loved Lurch on The Addams Family and Herman Munster – they were super strong and they didn’t even know it. Power demands attention . . . applause – and that’s what a hard-on basically is, your body saying thank you. It’s a man’s way of saying he really, really likes something. My buddy on the floor is now lying in a fetal position and is clearly dreaming of me, by the look on his face. I’m glad I could make his day. When the two sides of the metal bar come together I feel the kind of exuberant satisfaction a normal guy might feel doing something as simple as hitting a homerun. I’ve bent metal like it was nothing more than string cheese. I can tell that two more admirers are about to explode. I know just what will send them over the edge, too. Two massive arms making steel do their bidding is hot as hell, but then when those two arms twist the steel together – making the two ends into one, well that is a whole other level of excitement. I made it look like I was simply twisting a tie that holds the container of a loaf of bread in place. Metal being squeezed together and turned so it looked like only yarn being twirled together. No one in the room was breathing. The metal bar was still screaming from the abuse I was handing out. And, as planned, it became too much for the two guys who had been teetering on the edge of detonation for a while. I love it when I can cause an onlooker to shoot so hard that his cum hits my body – across the room. Sticky white man-milk splattered against my hard abs as one man screamed with the power of his orgasm. He sent semen missiles so hard across the empty space between us that it sounded like fists hitting a punching bag when they landed. I was duly impressed by his pecker power. The man’s face turned a deep purple as three huge volleys of cum blasted at me. The other man’s cock was sticking straight up, so his man-honey sprayed across his own chest, hitting his chin because of his thrusting power. It was easy to see that both men were going to collapse as soon as they were done squirting. The one guy shooting the length of the room made a thick noticeable path of fresh cum on the floor between his body and mine – like an arrow pointing to what had caused his explosion. It was almost sweet to see both men crumple happily to the floor at the same time – smiles of pure bliss on each of their faces and their arms around each other. They were sound asleep in seconds. Three sets of eyes still watched every big muscle on me move. The remaining men had pleading looks on their faces and I couldn’t tell if they wanted me to put them out of their misery and do something to make them explode, or if they wanted me to prolong their agony even more. I knew some men loved to be edged to the point where they could no longer feel their balls or cock – everything down there was just some numb raw exposed nerve too overwhelmed to respond. I was still twisting metal into a spiral, but I knew if I took a step forward with my big body one, two, or all three of them would erupt like matching volcanoes. I was twice the size of each of them. My flexed gun made their heads look like something as small as bottle caps. They were each glued to watching my thick, strong fingers messing up metal as if it were just warm clay. Every now and then their eyes would move to the bulging mass of either biceps fueling the destruction. The screeching of the metal was only equaled by the heavier breathing coming from the now smaller group of admirers. If they had been dogs, their tongues would have been hanging out, saliva would have been dripping to the floor, and their tails would have been wagging hard. As it was, each man’s dick was leaking pre-cum in big white, milky globs. I had simply built up too much pressure in their balls for their cocks to not let off some steam. I looked at the cocks displayed in front of me as I continued to easily twist metal. I realized it was a good thing that I kept my jeans on, for if I had unveiled the giant log between my legs the feeling of inadequacy it would have caused in each of the men might have completely deflated their hard-ons. Men will often deny that they compare the size of their penis to others, but they’d be lying. It is something all men do. It’s like guys that make discouraging remarks about the freakishly big arms of some bodybuilder just to hide the fact that they immediately feel their own arms as fragile and tiny. I’ve found it’s true with every muscle – not just arms. I especially find men staring at my giant hands and seeing in their eyes a mixture of jealousy and a feeling of being less than. Most guys, when I’m around, put their hands behind their backs so no one near will compare the sizes. What they say about big hands is true – just look at the bulge in my jeans, which the small group of men keep doing. It’s like they’re trying to see if the thing is for real. I can’t help but feeling a little more powerful – even more than I already do – when I see that my fat log of a cock is three times, maybe four, bigger than the largest one in front of me – and that’s before I’m even hard. My jeans really don’t hide a thing, but it helps to prevent the guys from feeling too small. I’m done twisting the metal bar. It looks like one huge scary corkscrew. I think how nice it would be to have a bottle of wine large enough for this newly, man-made, specific tool. A big bottle for a big man – yeah, as it should be. I look at the three men in front of me and smile. They seem to get nervous and I realize it’s because I possibly look like I might do them harm. That is not my intent. I merely want to let them know that I am having as much fun as they are, but my smile might come across as a little devious. Showing my strength off for guys is like the most orgasmic experience I can have without actually cumming. I thump the twisted metal in my palm loudly – like a teacher might swat a ruler. It’s time to make the steel bar into nothing but a big metal blob. I grab both ends and, with great ease, quickly bring them together – the thing screaming because it has no power to say no. I keep grabbing ends and bending them together – even when the bar is now four and five layers thick. Soon, there is simply a mass of twisted metal compressed together into something the size of a milk carton. I keep squeezing and pressing until two things happen. First, my body has ballooned into a freakish morph of the hugeness I was to begin with. The strength it has taken to destroy the bar has tensed every muscle on my upper body. I am a bulging mass of perfection. Secondly, the metal is now compressed into a round mass the size of a softball. Grunts of determination let me know one of my remaining admirers is ready to give in to his impending orgasm. I look up – having previously been entranced by what my own hands had done to the metal, since I could tell it was getting easier, and find the largest of the six men with a forehead popping with veins and a body almost as tensed as mine. He is huffing and puffing loudly as he fights to keep from shooting. His arms are still behind him – not daring to grab himself since those were the rules. His cock is throbbing up and down, uncontrollably, as it openly fights the man’s desire to not explode. The poor guy – his body desperately wanted release, but he also wanted to prolong the inevitable ecstasy for many more minutes. He was struggling something awful to not let his cock win – but we all knew the ending of this story. As usual, a man’s tool controlled everything. The bellow that came from his mouth as he dumped his substantial load into a pool on the floor was deafening. He looked like some Italian fountain spewing forth. I kind of thought it would be fun to have some coins to throw into the puddle of juice and make a wish. The dude came for quite a long time. Even the remaining two guys turned to admire how much spunk the guy shot from his body. He was the true definition of a ‘gusher.’ Soon, however, his crotch continued to buck forward, but nothing came out of his cannon. He was just jerking blanks by this point. This continued for a while, however – his body still too excited to quit. The guy was just staring at my arms and convulsing, completely upright. And then he just suddenly stopped and crumpled to the floor. A pile of spent, happy manhood – dreaming of my muscle and what it could do. I dropped the destroyed metal blob on the floor and it didn’t bounce or roll away. It just hit with a heavy thud and sat there. I wished one of the remaining two guys would have tried to pick it up, so they’d see just how heavy it was, but they were too busy watching my heaving chest. Their heads bouncing up and down along with my monstrous pecs – as if in time with some unheard tune. I flexed the huge things in a roll that started from the bottom and went up. Their eyes followed suit. So, six little men came to see the muscle show and now there were just two. The remaining guys seemed in pretty good shape, like they could have a few extra bits thrown into my routine and still last until the finale. I raised my arms slowly – both men gasping as they realized what was happening. I made my biceps swell enormously as I flexed them hard. Eyes widened, tongues hung out, drool dropped to the floor, and two hard cocks leaked more pre-cum. Muscled peaks reaching for the ceiling were just such a big turn on for most men. It was mainly because these two had seen what my arms could do, but it was also because the sight of huge, hard, bulging arms was so synonymous with manliness. I had the kind of guns that made shirtsleeves panic and even heavy material look really scared. I had been doing an unscientific study on what the connection between massive guns and hard dicks must be. The two little ones in front of me had followed the pattern of my observations with perfection. My flexed arms made them whimper like dogs waiting for a treat. Seeing huge biceps caused a need to touch themselves even more than when I was destroying metal. There was just something about giant flexed peaks that made normal, rational men become completely submissive and desperately want to grope, kiss, lick, and feel the hardness. My entire colossal body enthralled them, but it was my arms that made them go mad the most. I, of course, got off on it even more than them. I could see how their small, stick-like limbs were but a fraction of the size of mine. That more-than-obvious size difference – that show of tremendous power even when just standing in front of them and not flexing – was enough to make my balls ache with a need to dominate them. And I could dominate without touching them or saying a word – that was the cool thing. My size put them in their rightful place – it was that simple. They had to turn their heads upward to look at me and their gaze could not take in all of my wide expanse unless they turned their heads side to side. Being this immense demanded submission without a need for rough talk or physical intimidation. They metaphorically handed over their lunch money simply because they couldn’t see my face over the thickness of my pecs if they had been standing close to me. I showed off purely by being, just by standing there – and that gave me much pleasure. My big guns were still flexed and the guys were still whimpering. I dropped my arms and shook them out a little, just to let the un-tensed hard thickness bounce a little. Eyes never left my giant mounds. These two fellas were doing quite well, I was impressed. Their cocks were loaded and ready for firing, but both men were ready for the next part of my show. I knew we were about to enter the failsafe part of the evening. No man had ever made it through the next phase without losing total control of his body. I knew the limitations of my admirers. I knew how to make a cock spew even if its owner didn’t. I was the master of making balls offer me their thick adoring juice even if a guy fully intended to hold it all in. This body was built for milking dudes completely – emptying them until their eyes screamed ‘thank you’ in response to the pleasure I bestowed. I took a few steps forward. As I did, I reached up with both hands and pinched my already hard nubs, poking deliciously out like thick sausages. Daddy needed some loving. It was time for them to physically become part of the act. I knew, more than likely, the thrill for me would be short-lived. Most men couldn’t last very long once they actually came in contact with what they’d been worshipping from a distance for so long. To look at enormous muscle was one thing, but to feel it – to know how hard and thick it was on an extremely personal level – became too much for even most veteran muscle worshippers. I continued to twist my nipples hard as I towered over the two men – having to lean my head forward a little to look at them. Neither guy had grabbed his cock so far – usually me bringing my body this close made a guy finally give up and start pounding his meat for release. There was just something about the heat, the aroma, the beast-like presence my body gave off when a guy was close to it. I could sneak up behind a guy, quietly, and within seconds – if not instantly – he was aware that something gigantic and over-the-top masculine had suddenly moved close. It’s like your body knowing when a dark cloud takes away the sun for a few seconds or when you stand near a skyscraper and sense how tall it really is. My size permeated a room like an elephant had just entered. Both men seemed to realize what I was about to offer. Their faces were full of gratitude, lust, and sheer awe-struck fear from my immense bulk being this close to them. I pinched harder and pulled my nips outward – stretching them, painfully, just to offer a little more warmth to the nubs as I let go. I wrapped my big hands around the back of their smaller-than-my-palms heads and pulled them forward. Lips parted, breathing ceased, tongues came out, and faces lit up like Christmas trees as my areolas inched toward them. I was a king bestowing a huge reward to two peasants. I was the candy maker offering the entire warehouse full of treats to two children. I was the muscle god offering a taste of his immensity to his adoring worshippers. The entire reason I didn’t offer bodily contact early on in the show was reinforced as soon as mouths latched onto my humongous pecs. It proved to be instantly too much for one of my remaining fans. His face had not expected my muscle to feel like concrete. He had also not expected to immediately feel so small and weak. I was simply too enormous to take when a guy got this close. The dude’s hands pressed against my cobblestoned abs – his first mistake. His eyes looked upward over the massive ballooning of my pec and beheld the furry stubble across the bottom of my face. And his lips, the doors of breath, sucked in air as the tight marble-like skin re-emphasized what he already knew – I was powerful beyond his wildest imagination. I was Superman and he was the adoring Jimmy Olsen – small, weak, unable to fully grasp the strength of the being in front of him. The realization that I had worked out for many years to build the kind of body that could destroy baseball bats and metal bars so easily became complete, fully understood, and much more of a known fact as soon as his lips and hands met my body. My obvious power made him instantly feel weak and small, but, at the same time, it released a raging storm of emotion and jubilation within him. He pushed his hard cock against my bulging, rock-like thigh and rubbed ever-so-slightly against my tight jeans. That was all she wrote for him. Hot, gooey, dense cum jetted from his dickhead and covered my giant thigh – making it look like someone had poured a gallon of cream down my leg. Since he was basically pressed up against my immovable body, the guy didn’t flop around that much as he ejaculated. His body just pushed into mine harder and harder as he came – making him shoot even more as he realized I didn’t move and my muscles didn’t even indent a little where he pounded me. It was like light paper meeting concrete – it was easy to see which would bounce away. I felt his body banging against me, but it was the same annoying feeling a fly might cause. I smiled down at him over my enormous pec. I wanted his last thoughts before sleep to be my handsome face and my hard body. Suddenly, he stopped. His eyes stayed open, his mouth was still latched on to my nip, and he remained upright. I could tell, however, that he was out like a light. He had gone to muscle heaven with the four other guys on the floor. Meanwhile, my last admirer was still sucking away on my other nipple, like a baby that’s just woken up from a long night and is hungry like a wolf. I reached up and put my hand on the back of the head of the guy that was passed out. I squeezed a little and pulled back, loving the popping sound as his mouth left my pec. I moved my arm out, so the dude was positioned over two of the other guys and then I let go. He fell slowly down onto the pile of men, immediately curling up, happily. And now we were down to just one muscle worshipper. I could tell he was a little firecracker – built like a fireplug, short and stocky. He was actually standing on his tip-toes so his mouth could reach my nipple. I put an arm around his body and lifted him up, so he didn’t have to stretch so much. He moaned in appreciation without taking his mouth away. The guy’s hands caressed and punched my abs as he sucked away. He knew that touching me was fair game – now that I had latched his mouth onto my pec. He had his eyes tightly closed and I could tell he was willing himself to not spew any time soon. It was amazing that he could feel so much of my hard-muscled body and not lose control. I was duly impressed. I’m sure he realized I could make him squirt any time I wanted to, but we both wanted this to last. I’m sure he was very grateful that I was allowing things to go on his body’s timeline. How could I not, I was loving the fact that he could hold out this long. It was amazing that I knew so much about this guy and, yet, we never exchanged a word. I could just easily sense all that he was thinking and feeling. He was loving the fact that I was holding his body against mine – with his feet off the ground. He was over the moon excited about getting to suck on my hairy, thick nipple. And finally, even though he still didn’t touch himself, he could rub his hard cock against my giant muscled thigh to edge himself on even more. Now that it was just one guy, my immense body seemed to dwarf him even much more than it really did. The dude looked tiny and so breakable surrounded by my big arm. I squeezed him tightly, just to make sure he was real and not some kind of large doll. He moaned in response and my cock thickened as I marveled at how small he looked compared to just my biceps. He was still sucking away, as if that was the only way he could get his sustenance. I compressed my big gun again – loving how the action automatically caused the same response in the guy, a big moan every single time. I felt his little hard-on rubbing up and down against my tensed thigh, with its striations, veins, and hardness. His fists kept smacking into my abs every now and then, a loud noise echoing through the room. I felt the punches, but they seemed more like child’s play than a grown man hitting me. I could tell this last dude was a strength pig. He got off on my body’s ability to withstand him belting me. I knew he loved the muscles, but he loved what they could do a lot more. That made me like him the most. I was a strength pig, too. Only, I was the one with the power. I was the one getting off on the fact that my strength made this guy crazy – crazy enough to throw punches until his knuckles were bruised. And through it all, he just kept on sucking on my teat like it was the fountain of youth and he was nearing one-hundred years of age. It was crazy. The dude was clearly a lot older than me. That should have made him the boss, the dominant one, the leader – but I was simply three times his size and made him forfeit any claim of being in charge. He yielded his power to the muscle boy who was easily holding him in the air. He would have sensed the alpha-ness in me even if I had been in the next room. My size and bulk seemed to fill any void long before I arrived. It’s as if the ground and walls shook as I moved. I was very much aware of how my massiveness caused rooms to feel claustrophobic and how people gave me a wider berth when I approached. It was as if they were all little row-boats and I was an ocean liner in the same harbor. It was important to stay out of my path . . . or my wake. I looked at his tiny hand pressed against the pec he wasn’t sucking on – taking a break from punches. My own hand could cover his two or three times. That realization thrilled me very much and I squeezed his body tighter and longer than before. His moan lasted until I lessened the hug. And, still, the guy slurped loudly at my pec. My nipple registered pleasure, which pulsed down to my dick, as well. The crotch of my jeans was getting tight as I started hardening huge. I contemplated freaking the guy out by undoing my pants and letting my monster cock free, but I quickly realized he wouldn’t have left my pec long enough to notice my enormous dong. He was too busy trying to somehow suck some of my DNA into his body – so he might grow a little. I already radiated so much testosterone that I knew it emboldened him and made him much braver in his actions – hence the earlier pounding of his fist into my abs. It’s like some of my masculinity could be breathed in by him just from being so near. I got off on being so much bigger than the man, there was no secret to that. But I also loved how my size made him lose control. I bet he was some kind of corporate boss, used to ordering men around and expecting everyone to jump any time he told them to. But in this room, he was a little puppy submitting to the alpha who toyed with him easily. I could make him cower if I wanted to – with nothing more than a growl and an intense flex of my huge body. Knowing that fact was good enough, though. I didn’t need to do it. I would let the man have as much fun as he wanted – he deserved it. All of the men did. I looked over at the five still happily in slumber-mode on the floor. Everyone in this room was happy, especially me. Soon I would have caused six explosive orgasms – making a group of men happy beyond their wildest dreams. That’s what I was made to do. That’s why I had pumped enough iron over the years to probably have moved a small mountain. I made muscle fantasies come true. I also got off by showing off. I’d certainly be the seventh orgasm of the night – that was for sure. And I’d make sure to cover them with my hot, thick, fire-hose-like spray so when they woke up they would realize the big man had exploded, too. That would make them hard again, instantly. They would also be upset that they had missed it. All of this was yet to come, however, for I still had a guy presently latched onto my nipple – still sucking like there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. I was pretty sure his jaw must have been pretty sore by this point, but it was clear he had no intention of stopping. I appreciated a guy that could make my man-tits feel good. I also got the pleasurable feeling that this dude’s sucking skills would be amazing somewhere else, too. As great as that sounded, however, we were not here for my benefit – although that was always a by-product of all that I did. I was here to do one thing and do it well – get this guy to have an explosive, mind-blowing orgasm. I knew exactly what my little strength pig needed to get him off. He was definitely into my power, but he had held out through the bat and the metal bar. I instinctively knew what that meant. He needed my next display to include him. He needed to be on the receiving end of whatever it was I did to show off what my huge body could do. He wanted to be fully dominated and feel powerless. He needed me to remind him that someone as enormous as I could easily take care of someone like him – in any way I wanted. He really dreamed of being twisted like the bar of metal or cracked apart like the bat, but we both knew I wouldn’t do that. Besides not being into that kind of rough stuff, I was already hoping this little guy would be a repeat fan. I had a feeling the more we got to know each other the longer he’d be able to hold out and that was always fun. The longer the edging, the bigger the explosion was my motto. Some of my greatest online reviews mentioned how I caused the most intense ejaculations guys had ever experienced. That was the best compliment. I moved my arm away from the guy and he started to slide down my hard body – his mouth staying connected to my pec as long as it could. I was beginning to think he was suctioned on there for good, but he finally dropped to the floor and he looked up at me with the most disappointed face I had ever seen. I simply smiled at him with a look that said everything I wanted to and more. I was smiling, but it wasn’t a friendly smile – it was more of a grin that told the guy he was now my plaything. If it made him nervous at all, his joyous anticipation of what was about to come hid it completely. He realized the time for his orgasm had arrived. The muscled monster in front of him had deemed it so and there was nothing he could do to stop it. I moved toward him, inhaling deeply to expand my chest out even further – pressing my pecs into him. I continued to move, forcing him to step backwards as I turned us both and finally pinned him between my chest and the wall. I pressed in – causing him to moan louder than he ever had before. He couldn’t have escaped even if he wanted to. I tensed my body – just to show him how weak and fragile the wall behind him truly was. He got the message and, again, moaned appropriately. After a few seconds of flattening him like a pancake I stepped back from the wall. I knew exactly what he wanted – what would make him explode. He had given me permission – in his eyes, in his moans, and in his fist pounding appreciation of my strength. He actually begged me to cause his enormous release with dominating power that emphasized my strength as it reminded him of his own weakness. I was only a dominator when I was begged for it. I placed my huge hand around his small neck, so delicate. My v-shaped grip made him moan with so much pleasure that I actually leaked some pre-cum, myself. That was a first. My hand almost reached completely around him. I pressed forward and lifted at the same time – carefully, slowly, and deliberately. His face was full of gratitude, pleasure, and anticipation of what I was about to cause in his body. This man craved release, but not just release through orgasm. He wanted me to take away his need to control everything. He wanted to give up being the boss completely. He wanted me to be so totally in charge of the moment that he’d become insignificant . . . no one begging him for answers, directions, or needing him to make decisions. He wanted the only thing in the world that existed to be my strength . . . my power. His eyes pleaded with me to make him weak. I had never felt so powerful. I had never felt so huge. I had never known such joy – his and mine. He knew how easy this was going to be for me. I lifted his body off the ground, pressing him against the wall as he moved upward. He reached with his small hands to hold onto my wrist, struggling uselessly to try and pry my fingers from his neck. We both knew he was faking and we both knew he was in no real danger, I could drop him any time I wanted. But the thrill of the power in my one arm was still there – still rendering him defenseless. His addiction to being in control and powerful was suddenly thrown out the window as the muscleman in front of him reduced him nothing more than a useless sack in his huge hand. The threat of true damage was always there. I had his body as high as my chest when his cock started to gush his appreciation. I had never wanted a man to ejaculate so much to my strength as I did at this moment. He stared at me with so much joy and incredible gratitude as he shot hot, milky juice all over my body - I almost felt like crying. I had never known such pleasure . . . such dominance. I stopped lifting him when he was even with my face. His body emptied all the pent-up pressure of the last few hours . . . or was it years. Finally, his body was finished . . . completely spent. I squeezed his neck a little tighter, to wring out a few more drops from his dick. And yet, his eyes stared at me. And yet, he smiled. He did not pass out – another first for me. I lowered his shaky body to the floor and kept my hand at his chest, so he wouldn’t fall to the floor. He looked everywhere – at my huge biceps, my bewildered face, my heaving chest, and deep into my eyes. I realized he had never had an experience like this . . . but, if I were being completely honest, neither had I. He wasn’t unconscious. He wasn’t so depleted that he was asleep. And he was still fully hard. It was then that I noticed his gorgeous dark hair with flecks of silver strewn throughout. I also noticed his cobalt blue eyes – like some lagoon that beckoned me to swim nude. It’s also when I saw that he was, indeed, a short, muscled fireplug – much more fit than I had been aware of, at first. He was different from my other admirers – still sound asleep on the floor. This guy was the real deal – a true muscle worshipper who could go the distance with me. There was no telling what he’d encourage me to do in a private session – bend bars tightly around his body, toss him across the room, smash him breathless against the wall with my huge muscles, squeeze him so hard that he was forced to shoot his load just from my hug . . . these were all things that popped into my head as I stared at the grateful man. I was so turned on by all that had just happened I was not fully aware of the fact that the man had unzipped my pants and tugged them down, slightly – the things needing a lot stronger pulling to get over my huge thighs. That was not his goal, however. He just wanted to release my huge throbbing cock, which he did and immediately started pumping it with his small, but very strong, hand. My head tilted back a little, my eyelids closed slightly, and I moaned loudly from his groping. So many of my rules were being broken in this moment, but I didn’t care. This muscled plug of a man – who had let me dominate him in such a thrilling way – wanted to give me something in return. I could tell he also wanted to be bathed in my hot juice. He wanted to have muscle man-jizz rain down all over him. I could tell he had been pleasantly surprised and a little taken aback by the size of my cock. There had been only a slight hesitation, though, as his hand realized it wouldn’t be able to fit completely around the thing. He’d simply have to squeeze harder, which he did. In return, I braced my hands against the wall above his head. I was so incredibly jacked by this time – in so many ways – I decided to please him even more, but at the same time I would be satisfied, too. I pressed my crotch into him – hard. It shoved his body against the wall. His hand pulled away from my cock – both to brace himself against the wall, but also because he knew what was coming. I started thrusting my huge cock against his body – his stomach, his own crotch, his chest – pushing against him hard. I was going to use him the same way a horny teenager might use a pillow to get off. Dry humping his tight body immediately made my juices boil even more within my huge frame. I shoved forward with my dick and he banged against the wall. His moans of pleasure were even louder than mine. I bent my knees slightly and pressed into him at the same time. When I straightened my legs, his feet came off the floor – carried into the air briefly by the power of my hard dick’s thrusting. I looked down at the man and smiled at him being cock-handled so easily. It was magnificent and he was loving every second of it. For the first time in my life, I realized I was completely out of control. I wanted to see his body flop against the wall more, so I humped my cock into him with great abandon. I also knew I couldn’t have stopped my impending orgasm even if my life had depended on it. Suddenly, I smashed my crotch against the dude, pinning him tightly against the wall. I pressed in hard, knowing it made my bubbled ass bulge with tightened muscle. The dude reached around to grab my cheeks and he gasped at their hardness. I then growled deeply and released a river of semen, which actually flowed upward over the small guy’s torso. I pushed into him harder with each gush of my milky man-honey. I knew the dude was going to have some bruises tomorrow, but I also knew he would get hard every time he looked at them. Soon, it was like someone had squirted a gallon of masculine super glue between our bodies. There was a sticky mess sealing us and I continued to smash his body against the wall. As I finally pulled away, he came with me – the drying semen almost cementing us together. He was thankful to be able to finally take deep breaths again – having been compacted and flattened by my huge body. It took us both a few minutes to calm ourselves down and even longer for us to pull our skin apart. He had his hands on my chest, running his thumbs across my large jutting nipples and staring up into my face. I looked back at him, smiling – satisfied beyond what I had ever known before and sensing, deep in my being, that he felt the same. Silently, I brought my face down to his and we kissed. The biggest rule being broken. It was a long, passionate, hard, knowing kiss – that kept us both excited and already wanting much more. I finally pulled my face away from his and stared at him. He slowly nodded – aware of all I conveyed without even saying a word. I reached down, wrapped a hand around his body, and lifted him into the air. We both glanced at his fellow worshippers – still sound asleep on the floor – and then I carried my new little special muscle worshipper from the room.

The angry and menacing look on Big Boss’ face is enough to show his displeasure at a worker’s fuck up at the job. Big Boss called him for a stern warning “one more fuck up and you’re out!” And that’s just what happened The employee fucked up again and so the big boss crushed the life outta him right on the loading dock for all other workers to see. Trapping him up against the wall the angry boss held him in place with no escape as the worker pleaded for another chance. “Too late you been warned” was the response. And with a sudden and rapid inhale Boss’ belly expanded enormously pushing all the air out of the worker till he was crushed and dead. OSHA got word of yet another work place accident so this time they sent in an observer to snoop around for a week. Big boss resented having such an intrusion on his facility. He was furious, his big chest and belly heaving with rage. His longtime shop foreman tried to calm the big boss fearing that the plant would be shut down for good if anything happened. “Big boss please don’t hurt this guy we all need our jobs” rubbing and kissing his belly trying to appease the mammoth man. With one arm big boss shoved him aside slamming him into the wall. “if that pencil neck bureaucrat shows his face around here today snooping around my plant it will not go well for him”. Sure enough the gvt inspector came once again asking questions of the workers and observing operations. But once big boss got word of him on site he exploded. His business shirt could no longer contain his bulk as he was heaving and tensing so heavily. The sound of ripped fabric and popped buttons could be heard as he stormed out his office to find the bureaucrat. And there he was inside the loading dock. Big boss angrily grabbed the nearest thing to him, a forklift with driver seated inside and with little effort he lifted it clear over head and hurled across the warehouse smashing a work table and crushing two workers. “What are you crazy!!” Screamed the inspector. “I warned you you little punk I own this factory and no one intrudes upon my way of doing business not even OSHA” And with surprising speed big boss was upon the poor man and had him within his clenches. Effortlessly he held the man in a one arm bearhug. Raising his fist with the other arm and flexing his massive bicep. Big boss put on an incredible show of power his employees stood awe struck and fearful. Big boss heaved his massive belly once more thereby crushing the inspector’s ribs and with a final bearhug squeeze the man was limp and lifeless. Big boss let the inspector’s dead body lie on the shop floor for several hours to bring home the message of his abilities to anyone who dare defy him. Afterwards he called a meeting of his employees and instructed them to secretly dispose of the bodies, the inspector as well as the two employees crushed under the forklift. He instructed them when questioned by authorities to say that the inspector never showed up that day to conduct his investigation. Likewise the two employees never reported for work. Big boss inhaled deeply and his belly once again expanded to ridiculous proportions. “Do I make myself clear!” he boomed. The employees were shaken with fear knowing what pain and mortal peril their boss could inflict upon anyone of them who failed to tow the line. “Yes Sir” they all exclaimed. And with that he ordered them all back to work. The employees had trouble retrieving the dead corpses under the forklift as it became wedged so forcefully into the concrete floor. Despite all the male workers attempts they could not budge it. The foreman informed big boss who later arrived and rolled up his sleeves. His forearms were like muscular ham hocks writhing with sinew under a thick coat of hair. Again he heaved deeply and grabbed the strongest ends of the forklift and with a mighty heave hoe he broke the machinery free where he set it aside to be dismantled later. Lifting heavy machinery like this and crushing people always made big boss horny and he began to eye his foreman who knew exactly what his boss wanted. The two headed back to Boss’ office alone for a closed door “meeting”.

Continued from: Not really sure about what you're doing, you reach down and gently nudge the big dude on his huge, hard shoulder . His eyes fly open and before you can blink, he leaps up off the lounger and grabs you by your shoulder with an iron grip. Then, just as if you weighed nothing at all, he lifts you up off the ground by your shoulder and glares up at you. You struggle against him, but are completely powerless against, the incredible strength of that hugely muscled body. "Who the fuck do you think you're poking, little man!" he shouts. Then suddenly recognition breaks out on his face like the sun through a stormy sky. "Jared? Holy shit, dude! How the hell are you?" Suddenly, he pulls you into a bone crushing hug. You can feel his massive iron-hard arms digging into your back, while you're being slammed up against a torso that feels like it's made from rocks piled on top of each other. You're happy to see your friend, but at the same time confused about the changes in him. ...and there's a little pain involved, too. Finally, just when you think you ribs are going to start cracking, he sets you back down on the beach. What do you do now? Do you invite him back to your place to play video games and do your best not to mention that Mitch has somehow metamorphosed into a hugely muscled behemoth, and try to still have the summer you've been looking forward to? Do you suggest the two of you grab something to eat and then pump him for information on how he got so huge during the last 9 months? Or is this all too much for you. Do you need to go home for some alone time so you can process the startling change in your friend and figure out how you're going to deal with it?

Thanks to Dredlifter for the idea suggestion of this little thing - or maybe it will wind up being a big thing. I haven’t written a story like this in a long time - at least 4 years. I hope you will bear with me for a slow burn introduction here and getting my “verbal” chops back into shape. But the fun stuff will start coming next chapter. I am open to any and all feedback as I want to re-hone my writing abilities. Critiques are welcome -------- To Protect and Serve - Chapter 1 - The First Morning Prelude: Just imagine - You’re standing at attention with your peers in your best Class-A Uniform. All around you in the auditorium your friends, family, and fellow officers who can come are here to see the solemn occasion. A freshly earned, freshly shined badge has just been pinned on your chest by the Sheriff. You raise your right hand and take the oath. The oath is a bit different from jurisdiction to jurisdiction, but we boil its meaning down to one phrase - “To Protect and Serve.” So many have taken the oath. Some who took it did little things that made a big difference, while some risked their lives and paid the ultimate price. And some … well … some are special. This is the story of one of those special ones - no, he is even more than that. Though it was not his intention nor mine, he went beyond special. How do I know? He saved me. He has given me a life I could never have dreamed possible that first early morning. And what happened to him? Well, a transformation that is better in the telling. To those who take the oath as seriously as he did; To those who give it a new and bigger meaning as he did; to those who change more than they can imagine by repeating those words as he did, this story is dedicated. This is the story of what could happen if you could protect and serve many thousands of people, and just one man, me, in ways beyond your wildest imagination. ~ Gabriel York ----- A deceptively small man hung his duty shirt onto a dry cleaners hanger and placed it in his locker. As he stood bare chested in the cool air, he appeared to be hiding his body, but he had nothing to be ashamed of - having a lithe but very tight build under that shirt. Nicely shaped, mounded pecs accompanied hard small orange sized biceps. A tight 6-pack graced his lower abdomen to an impossibly small looking waist. He was way better than most men of his age, no “dad bod” here to be sure. But, the man always felt self-conscious in the locker room despite the room being empty. He wasn’t one of THEM, something that had haunted him since high school. He lifted one booted foot and then the other onto a wooden bench before him. Loosening the laces and pulling the side zipper, he removed each boot. He held them in his hands like precious artifacts for just a moment, remembering the first time he put these on. Soon it would be his last, he mused. His time could go on as long as he wanted. But -- he questioned why. What had he done to stay on? What good had he really done? REALLY made a difference? It took but a few more minutes for him to put on his civilian duty clothes (a departmental polo, slacks,and loafers), secure his badge to his belt, and close his locker. Most locker rooms were replete with all sorts of combination locks, but not here. A few men and most of the women officers used them, but it wasn’t exactly necessary. You couldn’t be in a much safer place after all. Deputy Sergeant John Declann closed his locker for the millionth time and went to collect his personal sidearm from the gun locker clerk. He had no sooner than entered the hallway from the locker room, he heard a truly tremendous booming upper bass voice: “WHOA, ONE SIDE DECLANN.” Declann immediately pulled back into the doorway and looked up … and up, to see 5 men in a tight formation with shields and cell-entry equipment. Each one of them was every bit of 6 foot 4 inches plus - although tactical boots always made you look taller than you were. They were more like 6 foot 2 without them - but still, they all out-weighed John by at least 60 pounds of muscle. At his 5 foot 7 inches in height and in normal shoes, he felt positively TINY seeing them pass by. That was sort of the point of those uniforms - to try and intimidate anyone who saw what was coming - and it always did, at least it did Declann. They were in helmets and wore thick padded vests, under which were black t-shirt with black BDUs and those boots below. While those clothes were technically “loose,” they did little to hide every oversized muscle in their massive bodies. Gigantic arms stretched forth from sleeves that seemed to be straining to the breaking point. 2 pairs of arms were thick, powerlifter looking, and 3 more were supremely cut muscle. The CERT - Cell Extraction and Response Team - blew past him looking like they were heading to Mary-pod - the maximum security section. No doubt it was to remove an offender from a cell for morning counts who did not want to be removed. There was no question, he WOULD be removed, no matter what it took. The injury inflicted was entirely the offender’s choice. And, that amount of muscle and its overwhelming power could do plenty of that. Declann had tried out for both the CERT and SWAT teams years ago. But at his 165 lb, it was deemed he just did not have the physical size necessary. “You have all the skills needed and more Deputy Declann,” he had been told. “You should be proud of that. But some other officers just beat you out in the scores. And we need you on the streets. That is where you belong.” Funny, he thought in a moment of jealousy. It was always those guys who were of larger than life proportions that got the spots, even if their skills were not as good as his. After the group had passed, Declann walked down the hall toward the sallyport and stopped. He always did it at times like this, halting at the Officer’s Gym. He looked inside. It was rather quiet, normal at 0545 and shift change. Still, he could see some of the remnants of workouts by the big guys on the force. 45 pound plates left on the sides of incline bench press rack. What looked like 5 plates on a side on the bar on the squat rack. Dozens on the leg press sled. It was a bit of a mess, in truth, but most well used gyms were. Now, Declann was no physical slouch. He always kept in shape and his skills honed as the primary martial arts instructor for the Sheriff’s Office. He could have done well in that room, even though he was pushing 40 years old. Could have grown. But, he sighed and went on. There was just a part of him that never wanted to face big men in the gym. The injustice of being mocked for his smaller size and unfamiliarity with the equipment the one time he went in blazed in him still all these years later. He guessed the big men thought it was good natured fun, but it hurt Declann deeply. So, he kept to his body weight fitness room and small dojo set up in the garage at home. That made him feel less conspicuous. When it came to them, John always saw himself as a small man in boots that were a size too big. And yet - to so many others, he wasn’t that at all. He was everything that made police work an honorable profession. --- John Declann had wanted to be a police officer for as long as he could remember. Since his youngest days, he had been fascinated by police dramas on TV, how they always seemed to catch the bad guy no matter the odds. How they always saved people in distress. In his mind, there was no better calling. No better way to spend his life. He had the mind to be anything he wanted. He excelled in most subjects in school and was a top flight musician. But, those pursuits were not where he heart lay. He was a cop at heart by his teenage years, and he did everything he could to prepare himself. He took JROTC through high school, where he picked up his interest in martial arts and started Aikido lessons. Though he wasn’t the best team sports, he blasted through the competition at his dojo. He became quite fit from the military style calisthenics workouts he adopted during ROTC summer camps. And, that fitness matched perfectly with his blooming skills with his hands and feet on the mats. Before high school was over, his featured had matured into those of a very fit, handsome young man with striking brown eyes. And he had his first degree black belt, the first degree of many. It took a nearly a year after graduating high school to get his first small town commission to the force. He spent his first 18 months in the jails, and then took and passed his Colorado POST exams. He had been a road officer ever since. Now, he was a Sergeant in the Boulder County Sheriff’s Office - an area not unknown for large scale crimes as it held the University of Colorado. “The Berkeley of the East” though had its full measure of minor offenses. But the area wasn’t exactly the worst gang spots in Denver either. He had for served with true distinction for nearly two decades since - being decorated for bravery multiple times for saving civilians lives under fire. He had saved those intent on suicide. He had even delivered a baby once in a convenience store, and the story made the local news. He had had plenty of hands-on run ins with offenders, but he gave way more than he got, never having much more than a bruise or a black eye on occasion. He just never saw what the community and his immediate superiors did - a good man, serving the people Boulder and the kids of the University the best way he knew how. --- John went out to his car - an unmarked Dodge - cranked it, and began the slow crawl toward the Turnpike then Wheat Ridge. One of the things he learned in his own initial officer training long ago was to never live in the county you worked in. It could always lead to problems with local offenders. So, it was up and over the Flatirons toward home. Even though traffic volume was already increasing as it spread toward Denver in the morning rush, his mind wandered as if on empty roads. He made the necessary turns though the city and came proximate to the University entrances, but was running his schedule through his mind. He was due for a weigh in at the doc’s today. And they usually took his measurements too. Height, waistline, all that stu -- John’s senses caught something in the barely lit dawn. Someone moving way too fast to be normally jogging to the right of his car. Moving toward campus. John slowed his vehicle and his brain went into observation mode. It captured the scene in moments with his practiced eyes and mind. A young man -- looking to be just outside of college age but could still belong to the University. Short, black hair. Trimmed beard. White button down shirt and navy slacks. Looked like there was some money invested in those clothes, certainly not cheap. Behind him, perhaps eight or so paces, was running - and running faster than the first - a white young man, shaved head, jeans and ratty t-shirt, tatted with jailhouse tattoos that stood out even under the fading street lamps. And, then John caught sight of a gun in the rear waistband of the second’s jeans. Semi-auto by the outline. Instinct took over. John turned his car in an instant, hit the flasher toggle for his lights, and wound with wildly fast, yet practiced precision toward the danger. Less than 20 seconds later, John pulled his car to a stop where his instincts said he could cut this off. “Boulder County Sheriff's Office -- ON THE GROUND NOW” John yelled as he leapt from his car and drew his weapon virtually simultaneously. The running suspect didn’t listen, just as John had expected. He instead broke his pursuit of the well-dressed man and taken off toward a side alleyway. But, John was good at his work. The offender was fast, but John - was FASTER. He holstered his weapon as he calculated his movements nearly autonomously. He had chosen his intercept point well. John calculated the takedown, knowing an almost undisputable, universal law - 95 percent of offenders have no idea of how to fight, and the remaining 5% seldom need to fight. And this one looked like the former. It took a few seconds, but just a few, for the whole pursuit to be over. Exactly two PPCT strikes and a normal compliance take down and the suspect wa on his back, with John twisting his arms and putting the handcuffs on. He never even had to hurt more than the punk’s pride. Once secured, John kept his knee in place just under the lower shoulder blades, cuffed arms resting on his quad, knowing a bodyweight advantage and leverage would be critical with this man who slightly outweighed him. “What’s your name?” John demanded as he patted down the suspect and quickly removed a 9mm weapon and several baggies of what looked like methamphetamine. “Fuck you” was the response. John smiled a bit and gave a half chuckle under his breath. He loved this a bit too much when it happened, and some mischievous streak in him just drove him to do it. “OK, Mister Fuk Yu. I am placing you under arrest for possession of an illegal firearm and possession of controlled substances. You have the right to remain silent …” John mirandized the “Mr. Fuck,” pulled him up to his feet, and maneuvered him the few yards to his car. He put the offender in the back seat and locked the door of his unmarked. The guy was going nowhere. Now, to more important matters. John made his way toward the young man being pursued - who had by now stopped and was almost collapsed on the sidewalk. Declann withdrew his cell, called 911, and requested uniformed officers to his location. He was upon the man on the sidewalk just as he hung up. John immediately knelt down to do a quick assessment of his condition. There were no obvious signs of trauma at the first once over. He then took a more careful look at the victim’s features. While he certainly wasn’t of student age, he was still under 30, John guessed. And, he was a very nice looking under 30 to boot. Blue eyes setting off dark, intense features. Old enough to just have the barest hint of a wrinkle at the eye but nothing else. John noted a rather slim body - the size of his own would have been were it not for his training in Aikido and Krav Maga. John felt a twinge of attraction.Yes, John was bisexual, but no one cared among his superiors anymore. Besides, he had always kept that part of himself separate when on duty. “You OK Sir? I can’t see any obvious injuries. Do you need an ambulance?”John asked as he came and sat down at the man’s level. “Thank you . . . . officer, thank . . . you.” The man panted in reply with a pronounced British accent. “I was . . . just going toward my . . . lab . . . after my tea . . . when this fellow . . . started chasing me screaming at . . me. ” The young man was now gathering his breath, becoming easier to understand. John was a bit surprised to hear that English accent coming from him. Not unheard of, but still unusual in Boulder. “Did he assault you in any way?” The Englishman finally looked up to see John’s slightly older but obviously concerned and kind face. He visibly relaxed as he looked into John’s light brown eyes. “No, he never caught me but he was close. I am not exactly in running shorts and shoes here. But thanks to you, I’ll be OK. I do not know what would have happened if you had not arrived when you did.” “With what I found, I suspect he wanted to mug you. You are rather well dressed for campus, if I may observe. And, forgive me, if he heard you accent, you may have looked like an quick target as a tourist. When the uniform officers get here, you will need to give a statement to them, or you can give it to me if you prefer. We need to make sure this scumbag gets what he deserves.” “Of course. Anything I can do to assist, although I would be much happier speaking to you.” the man said giving just a hint of a smile. It was then that the uniformed officers in their black and white vehicles showed up. John excused himself for a moment, let the uniforms know what was going on, and allowed them to take the offender back to the jail for booking. John then returned to the man still sitting on the sidewalk. Pulling out a notebook he kept on him for times like this, John got all the pertinent information as he had done thousands of times before. Name, description of what happened, when, and why, if he knew. Any details the young man, who he had come to know as Gabriel York, may have remembered before, during, and after. As he took the statement, John became even more convinced this was an attempted mugging, perhaps for more drug money, maybe even more if that weapon came into play. Knowing he had all he needed, John said, “Finally, is there a way we can contact you if we have further questions. The staff from the District Attorney's office will be sure to want to speak with you about testimony if it comes to that. Although with the evidence we have, this one will probably plea. This is not his first time in jail.” Gabriel reached into his pocket for a very expensive-looking leather wallet and removed a business card. “This is my lab contact information. I am easiest to reach either here on campus or with my secretary. My other lab is ...a… well ... it is easier to reach me here. Again I can’t thank you enough, Sergeant.” “Believe me, Dr. York, it was my pleasure. I am just glad you are safe and sound.” John said. “Are you OK to go on your own or would you like me to escort you to your lab? I would be happy to do so.” “Thank you sir, but I think I’ll be fine. My lab is just over the hill in the Biological Sciences building.” Gabriel replied. “OK” John said, handing Gabriel a card of his own with his name, rank, and contact information on it. “This is my card. If you need anything or remember anything else, please do not hesitate to call me anytime, day or night.” ‘Of course. Sergeant Declann.” The Englishman arose with a friendly hand from John. Almost as an afterthought as he was leaving, York turned around. “Oh, Sergeant Declann, by the way. I do ….ah… certain work down at the Federal Center in Denver. I will have to report this incident to my superiors there and to the British consulate. In case there is testimony or something as you said. They may wish to speak with you. Just to make sure. You understand?” John nodded. Ah, he works with the feds as an international scholar of some kind, and the red tape must be dealt with. “Of course. No problem at all. I’m proximate to the Federal Center half the time anyway.” York nodded an ascent and turned again to walk away. John stood a moment watching - and admiring - Dr. York move until he was sure he was alright AND that he was moving toward the Biology building. He turned around and began to make his way back to his car. As he did, he looked down at the card: Gabriel York, MD. PhD., FACS Research Director/Professor of Medicine Advanced Bio-neurological Applications Project University of Colorado School of Medicine Hmmm, John thought. He looked a damned sight young to be in such a prestigious job, a full professor under 30 and with two doctorates at least. And a fellow of the ACS -- so why talk to the Consulate? John’s “detective sensor” started to sound off in his mind. This advanced applications thing wasn’t a program he was familiar with, but there were so many new research projects on campus these days. But, as soon as the “alert” came, he let it go. Probably a government grant given what he said about the Federal Center. John was reviewing the incident in his mind for his own after action report as he pulled onto the highway. Suddenly, there was a loud roar of a horn and air brakes. John never even saw the tractor trailer that plowed into his car, crumpling it in an instant like so much tissue paper and driving it 30 yards down the highway. *** Two Hours Later *** Trauma room one at the University of Colorado Hospital was abuzz with activity. At least a dozen doctors, nurses, and specialist technologists in yellow plastic smocks and shields hovered over a trauma bed doing a myriad of tasks to the man laying there. “What do we have?” the lead trauma surgeon said as he came into the room and took up control of the life-saving operation. On of the smocked figures raised up and stepped back, raising his shield. “John Declann, caucasian male, age 39. Boulder County Sheriff’s Deputy. MVA - car versus tractor/trailer. Passenger was in a seatbelt with airbags deployed but required extraction by fire-rescue. Initial assessment shows superficial cranial abrasions, with most likely a simple concussion. No evidence of other cranial, brain, or upper spinal injuries. Seat belt bruising pattern is highly indicative of internal organ disruption, but nothing so far on physical examination and plain films of the abdomen. Lacerated and collapsed left lung, reinflated with chest tube. Pneumothorax proximate to same lung injury also responding. Initial x-rays show compromised T-12 vertebral body and possible pelvic fracture. No apparent lower limb trauma beyond cuts and bruises from extrication from the vehicle. CT scans are coming up now for the spinal and pelvic injury areas. This was a driver’s side T-bone crash. I think that this guy’s level of fitness is why we’re talking about saving his life and not pronouncing him. ” the lead resident efficiently rattled off. The lead surgeon took a look at the patient, and agreed with the resident’s assessment. John was alive because of his trained, flexible, body and more than a little random chance. But what kind of life was it going to be? The doctor walked over to the computer terminal screens and pulled up the CT scans. The pelvis showed a simple left side Ilium fracture. Non-displaced. Something the orthopods could deal with easy enough. He then flipped to the scan of John’s spine -- and frowned. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as he looked. He sat down on a stool and zoomed, in, out, rotated, and closely examined the different views provided by the technology. The burst fracture was unmistakable and at precisely the worst spot for leg function. As he walked back to John, the doctor barked orders to the residents and nurses, while he removed an ink pen from his pocket. He ran the pen up first one foot and then the other. Goddamnit, he thought. The veteran doc’s heart sunk even more. “Get neurosurg here stat. Tell them severe impact, burst fracture at T-12, CT visualization and reflex response indicative of cord injury.” The room went silent for a moment before carrying on. It was always hard to treat an officer. Much less for this. The supervising physician turned and again just looked at the radiology. The soft tissue injuries were no walk in the park, but were easily fixable, recoverable in just a few weeks, the pelvis in a couple of months, except …. that. There was no hope for that, in his experience. This man would be paralyzed. Five minutes later the head of neurosurgery looked at the same CT scans, and came to the same conclusion. No hope. They could do an exploratory, check and see if by some miracle there was just pressure on the cord from a fragment, but not likely. Better to just do a vertebral stabilization with the orthopods, but his chances to recover function … Declann had been stabilized and was ready for transfer to have his lung laceration repaired. As he was about to be moved, another man in a white coat burst into the trauma room. One look from him toward John, and his eyes moistened. “I...I...can’t believe it.” the black haired man wept at the side of the bed. “I had to be sure.” The man almost looked skyward, “Why him?” Gabriel tenderly wiped a finger down John’s cheek. “Gabriel?” the head of neuro looked up. “What are you doing here? Do you know this man?” “This man, he saved my life this morning, not even four hours ago. Kept me from getting mugged by this man with a gun. Everyone heard the crash and when I saw that the wreckage was his car. Is he going to be OK?” Gabriel was out of breath and had obviously lost clinical detachment between the events of this morning and the shock of seeing the officer who had been so kind and patient with him lying there. He would have been removed if treatment were still going on, but it was basically complete save moving him to OR. The two attendings just nodded toward the computer screens with the radiology still on it. Gabriel walked from John’s head side, looked, and was overcome with remorse and guilt. Had he just been at his normal time, 15 minutes later, none of this would have happened. But, he just HAD to check on a minor experiment. And now, this man lay here because of him. Gabriel zoomed in to the machine’s maximum sensitivity. He looked again and again. Through a choking voice, Gabriel looked around and almost whispered. “Jack, can you send me these scans please? To my secondary lab.” The lead neurosurgeon looked horrified, searching for a reason not to. “Gabriel. You can’t be serious. You know I can’t do that. It violates protocol, federal law--” Gabriel cut him off, almost angrily “Jack you know I can take care of that with one call to Washington.” “What are you going to do?” Jack asked, never having seen such anger in the young, brilliant surgeon and scientist. “IF I can, if there is anything I can do, I am going to try and help this man.’ “You can’t have a man as a lab r--. I can’t sanc---” Jack stumbled. Gabriel stood to his full height, taking on an almost military bearing. “You know I can and will go over your head if I have to. I will have him removed if I must.” Gabriel took a breath and seemed to calm a bit. “Jack I am not promising that I can or will do anything, I do not know if there is anything to do. But I have to try. I owe it to him. He is here because of me. I have to try or I’ll never forgive myself.” Jack knew Gabriel could follow through on his threats in an instant. He had seen some small manifestations of Gabriel’s connections to political power before, and he knew that interference in hospital functions was the very least of what he could do. As much as Jack detested it, with this kind of anger Gabriel could bring down the mountain on top of his whole hospital. But, as it was, there was nothing anyone could do for Officer Declann, not even York. Jack just silently waved his fingers in a gesture of defeat, nodded an ascent, and transferred access to Gabriel as primary attending physician. “Thank you Jack. I owe you about 10 times over for this.” “I WILL HOLD YOU TO THAT,” the older surgeon replied, his voice suddenly sharpened. “And I insist on one thing. Before you present him any of those things you do that I do not have a clue about, you will at least get his consent.” Gabriel looked like he had been shot himself and his voice shook, “I would NEVER do anything to harm him.” York turned on a heel and left the room, walking out of the ER doors, and toward his car in the parking lot. As soon as he was in the vehicle with the door closed, he pulled from his pocket an encrypted cell phone with just one number it could access, locked to his fingerprint. A male voice answered in military precision, “Yes, Doctor York?” “Codeword Ariana. I want the full computer network prepped for simulator study based on some CT scans that will be coming from CU Trauma ER shortly. Run the program with emergent parameters and stand by to report when I get there. Not a proof of concept level scan, Don, but full cellular level calculations. I am leaving the hospital now. We have 24 hours at the most to complete simulations. And...ah.. Don. This is important to me, personally.” “Yes SIR,” the sharp voice on the other end said. Gabriel could not quite understand what he was feeling, this pull toward this man. He didn’t know the man existed six hours ago. Sure, there was guilt and anger and sadness. But, he just could not remove from his mind those eyes he saw this morning. Those haunted, caring brown eyes. Something about him. This John Declann. He did not know what. But he saw it in his eyes. He deserved more than this, and Gabriel would find out why. He would make it happen, he willed it to happen as he drove toward the freeway. This good man would walk again.

Here's a one-off that came to me when I was lying in bed before I fell asleep. Yeah...this would totally be me!!! Hope you enjoy as much as I did that night and while writing it!! How Do You Spell Masculinity?? Ian sprinkled the salt into an incomplete circle, stepped inside, and the closed it with the rest of the salt he had. Before him was a medium sized alter that he had built just as the book had described, and next to that were the items for the ceremony. Lighting first the five red candles, then the three black, and finally the white, (all easily purchased on Amazon Prime) he nervously waited for the time to be exactly two in the morning. This had all begun six days ago when he was on an eBook downloading site looking for the latest Stephen King novel. Glancing over the many different titles as he scrolled through the list, he came across a listing for “100 Books of Witchcraft and Sorcery.“ Thinking that this might be something interesting to look through, and always fascinated with the occult, he downloaded the zipped file. Unzipping and then Opening the downloaded folder, he found titles such as the Necronomicon, The Grimoire for the Apprentice Wizard, Libellus Migicus, and The Fifth Book of the Black Order. One book peaked his interest significantly: Physical Magic and Spell-Casting. Most of the spells in this “Grimoire” were focused on turning straight hair to curley or vice-versa, acquiring different coloured eyes, or helping the caster build larger muscles. Being fairly short with an average body, this spell caught his attention, but it was the one after it that peaked his interest. Total Body Modification in Regard to Masculinity or Femininity allowed the spell caster to summon a ‘helpful demon’ ( there were such things???) and request they give the ideal masculine/feminine body that they desired. Reading over the spell, it all seemed quite easy: Must be done on the first of the month. A circle and a pentagram must be drawn in salt The caster must be within the circle and never leave till the spell was complete Must be done at 2 am Must possess a silver knife and silver spoon Must have three specific coloured candles Must have three items that the caster perceived as masculine/feminine to be burnt in a copper pot Four tablespoons of raw wildflower honey. One persimmon for the demon to feast on. (Really??). If the demon finds you worthy to grant your request, he will feast on it to gather the energy to make your masculine/feminine body a reality. Once the items were ash and spread over the heart and chest of the caster, they needed to just speak out loud their desires. From this, the demon would choose to grant or deny the request. Being a person with a lot of interests and nothing to loose, and since it was January 25th, he thought, why not, and decided to do it. From Amazon, Ian was able to purchase the silver knife (who knew??!!), the copper pot, and the candles, and from the corner shop he was able to procure three large boxes of salt. The items that symbolized masculinity were a little harder. The first thing he cane up with was the few chest hairs that he had growing in the center of his chest. Ian was not a very hairy person, and he always associated facial and body hair with masculinity. So, with a dry razor he cut the fifteen chest hairs from his body and placed them in an envelope. A huge penis was definitely a symbol of masculinity, but how could you burn one? At work the next day at his desk, he decided the best way was to make a paper mache one. That night he got a long balloon, mixed flour and water to make a paste, put strips of newspaper in the mixture, and proceeded to cover the 15” balloon with it. To create the head, he just piled more and more paper until the balloon had a massive mushroom cap. The next night he popped the balloon, and painted the hardened cast to look as close to a penis as he could; veins and all. The final item alluded him. Ian wanted it to be a jock strap, but he couldn’t just buy one. That wouldn’t be masculine enough for him. It needed to have been owned and worn by someone who was the epitome of masculinity. Searching online, Ian found a website where he could “purchase” a man’s company for an hour or for a night. Looking through the pictures, he found a rugged muscular hunk who screamed masculinity to Ian. Emailing the escort, Ian asked how much it would cost to have him wear a jockstrap all day, work out in it, and then give it to him. That’s all. The escort respond back quickly asking for £350. Knowing this was the only way of getting what he wanted, Ian agreed to transfer half the money that day and then the rest on pick up. He agreed to meet the escort on the 31st at 3pm at a Starbucks on St. Martin’s Lane. Mario, who originated from Italy, actually ended up being a really nice guy. Ian bought latte’s for both of them and they had a 15 minute chat about Mario’s career goals, the law school he was attending, and whether or not he would return to Italy when he finished. When the drinks were finished, Mario stood up to leave, and handed over the jockstrap in a paper bag. No questions were asked, and he acted as if this was a totally natural request. Ian transferred the second half of the money to Mario, and they parted ways, each with what they wanted. Ian waited until he got home to open the bag, and right away from the musky smell he could tell the stud had definitely worn it all day and while he worked out. There were even some stray pubic hair in the red jock for added measure. The sitting room was the largest room in the house, so Ian proceeded to move all of the furniture to the sides of the room. Taking a pencil, he carefully sketched out a pentagram and circle on the floor, and the proceeded to follow the lines with the salt, leaving an entrance open for him to come and go with. He then proceeded to fashion an altar, as requested in the book, and placed that in the middle of the circle. As the time neared 12:30 am, Ian took a bath in rosewater as the book recommended. At around 1:45 am, he entered the circle with the necessary items, and closed it with salt behind him. Placing the persimmon on the right half of the altar for the demon, Ian composed himself and began the ceremony. Lighting the candles from left to right, he began to meditate on what the desired outcome would be from that night… what the word masculinity meant to him Several times his average penis started to get hard thinking of men with huge muscles hairy muscle and massive cocks, but he calmed himself down and continued to meditate. Finally, the alarm sounded. It was 2am. A little nervous, Ian read aloud the spell: - Oh god’s of darkness and Lucifer lord of the underworld, please grant me my wish. Masculinity is the greatest power in this universe, and I wish to accept it as my own. Receive these items as my sacrifice. Chest hair from my own body, that only grows from surges of testosterone. Ian took the chest hair and placed them in the copper bowl. ⁃ A large penis that only one of true masculinity would possess. The large phallus was next placed in the pot. ⁃ And finally, a jock strap owned by the most masculine of men, and worn while working out to improve his masculine body. Ian took the jock strap, longing to smell it, and placed it in the pot. ⁃ In flames I send you these symbols of my desire and my need. Taking a wooden match, Ian lit the paper mache penis. He watched this quickly burn, igniting both the jockstrap and the chest hair. Within ten minutes, they were all a mixture of ash. Taking the silver spoon, Ian scooped up the honey and dropped it into the pot. Mixing it and the ash together with the silver knife, he then proceeded to spread the thick solution on his chest, specifically over his heart. As he rubbed it in he said: - I wish to be the most powerful of all men. Please grant me my wish. Make me masculine. Make me as masculine a man as they come. I beg of you to grant me my desire and bestow me your blessings. What blessings you can bestow on me is as I require. Here Ian has to speak aloud what he wanted the demon to bestow on him. - I want to be muscular. I want a great body, to be tall, and have chest hair. Having seen many movies where a wish went wrong when no detail was given, Ian thought it best to explain himself. - Yeah. I wish to have a muscular body... maybe like a pro bodybuilder, be tall, around 6’4, and have thick hair on my face and chest. Realizing he had forgotten something important: - Oh... um... and a big cock. I’d love a huge cock, a really hairy body, and bulging muscles that every guy would be envious of. Just talking about it was starting to get him horny and hard. - Not just a big cock. A huge cock. Really long and thick. And I’ve always wanted to be tall. Have everyone look up at me when I enter the room. They have to look up because they have no choice. And really muscular, where it’s difficult to buy clothes for my body. Oh yeah... and so hairy that when I shave, it just grows back an hour later. It’s almost a waste of time to even bother shaving. Ian was so horny now just talking about his dream body that he started to stroke himself. - A body so huge with muscles that honestly you can’t even wear clothes I’m just so massive. Hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of pounds of thick pulsating muscles. I’m so tall that I have to bend to get through every door, and my cock!! Fuck!! My cock is massive... like 15” long and thick as my wrist, and my balls!! Two grapefruit’s!!! I’m such a fuckin Alpha stud that I can fuck anyone I want... and I do. I’m always constantly leaking pre cum and horny... and fuck I’m hairy!!! Some might think it’s too much... but I don’t care! Ian took some of the ashes mixed with honey and used it as lube to stroke himself even more. Caught up so much in body lust he spoke with such longing: - There I am... standing so tall... like several stories tall... and I’m thousands of pounds of muscle. My whole body is coated in thick dark hair, but nothing can cover how massive my muscles are. I’m a freak, but I love it. I get off on it!! My balls are so enormous... everyone wonders how they can be so big!! My voice is so deep, my beard so full, and my cock is so thick and long I could fuck a building with it!!! Just at the point if cunning, Ian cried out... - Do whatever you want, I just demand you make me into a fucking muscle monster!! My muscles are so huge it’s impossible to measure them but I know I weigh several hundred tons... and that may be a low estimate!!! My cock... fuck it’s so huge it’s too big to even fuck a blue whale with... and the head...it flares out so huge and so wide it’s bigger then my own head!!! And my balls... my balls are as big as cars... I’m as hairy as can be, covered in tattoos, pierced, and exude a smell that turns everyone on. People come from countries away to just worship me and jerk off at my feet. My voice... it’s so deep it’s just a rumble... like thunder!! I have the testosterone of 29,000 warriors, 150,0000 cave men... yeah... I’m so masculine I’ve fuckin de evolved!! The world around me is so small and my voice so deep I pretty much just grunt. My instincts are to just fuck and grow... The whole world worships me yet is terrified of me because I’m a fuckin muscle mutant, millions of tons of muscle, my cock defies description, so long... so thick... so veiny... thousands of highways of veins just to fill it... so freakish it would be disgusting if it wasn’t so hot... it’s constantly dripping gallons of precum, and I have to cum every ten minutes because my balls are constantly full!! I’m a lumbering mass of caveman testosterone, so fuckin hairy... fuck... so hairy I must be part gorilla... and damn... I’m so tall... so tall that my shadow covers all of London!! I have to be 300 feet... no 500 feet if I’m an inch and I just keep growing!!! I can’t stop!!! I won’t stop!!! I’m the worlds nightmare!!! Ian came repeatedly all over the alter, all over the pentagram, and all over the candles putting several of them out. It was one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever had, and he felt totally spent when it was over. Walking through the circle of salt to get some paper towels to clean up, Ian just laughed at all he had done. He was covered with cum, honey, and it would take days to simply vacuum up all of the salt. All of that mess had been worth it for such an incredible orgasm. It had been days since he had ejaculated, and obviously, he needed to after that massive load. Gathering the roll of paper towels from the kitchen and a trash bag, Ian began clearing the mess up. After cleaning the honey and cum from his chest, he then proceeded to clean up his sitting room. He put all of the candles, the copper pot, and the chalice that held the honey into the rubbish bag since none of it was worth keeping. Once that was deposited next to the bins in the kitchen, he vacuumed up all of the salt, which was actually easier then he thought it was going to be. He tossed all of the salt into the rubbish and moved the sofa back into position. No one ever would know that a demonic ritual had ever taken place there. He threw himself down into the couch in exhaustion, the furniture creaking under his weight, and closed his eyes. Damn that was fun... even if it had cost several hundred of pounds. If anything, it would be a funny story to write about on his blog. Suddenly famished, he flung himself off the sofa with the decision to grab some crisps from the kitchen. He was on his way out of the sitting room when he slammed his head on the door jam. Stopping to take stock of what had happened... he suddenly realized that he had actually hit his head on the door jam!!! Ian’s heart started beating faster as he comprehended that indeed he was now slightly taller then the door jam and getting taller by the second! How could he not have noticed this??!! No! There was no way that he could be getting taller!!! It wasn’t possible. He has to have fallen asleep when he sat down on the couch. A demon couldn’t actually... didn’t actually… He ran to the persimmon and with the silver knife cut it open. Inside it was empty. Not one seed… not one drop of juice. Nothing!!!! The demon had eaten the entire thing... No!! That wasn’t possible!! He had to be asleep. He couldn’t be getting taller!! He paced around the room but each second it seemed to get smaller and smaller as he shot further up. Trying to remember what he asked for, Ian played back the evening in his head. He had asked to be 6’4... but he was already taller then that. No... he had elaborated by saying everyone had to look up when he entered a room... that he... his stomach fell.. was several stories tall... Several stories tall! Several stories tall!!!! He had asked to be several stories tall and he was actually growing taller. This shouldn’t be possible! This only happened in... Fuck... I went further... I did!! I said my shadow covered London!! I said I was... Whether it was the reality of getting talker or the thought of how tall he was to become... Ian’s cock started to get hard. It looked so tiny next to his newly enormous hands, but when it was fully hard, it pulsed with a life of its own. Each second it pulsed in time with his heartbeat, and each second more and more blood was forced into it. The sensation was over whelming. New thick veins began to form and erupt all over Ian’s cock in order to supply more and more blood. Ian winced a little as his cock kept getting harder and harder... like it was in one of those vacuum pumps he had tried. This time though, he wasn’t just getting hard, he was getting thicker... much thicker. My cock is as thick as a beer can already... and so fucking veiny! Ian cried out as his cock got thicker still. He wrapped his hand around it and discovered even that couldn’t fully go around it. With more blood pumped in, his fingers pried apart further... and then further still. Feeling like he was receiving punch after punch to the groin, Ian kneeled on the floor. Like his cock, his balls had begun to swell. Within minutes, they were both the size of peaches and fighting for room in his tight sack. His tender balls were hot to the touch... practically burning as they proceeded to gain more mass. He could even hear and feel them churning, becoming supersized sperm factories. Ian was sweating as his world kept changing around him. He laughed a little when he thought of the situation he had gotten himself into... and got butterflies in his stomach when he thought about what he might become. He had demanded the demon turn him into a lumbering muscle monster! Surly the demon knew he was just horny as hell and role playing! Demons had to be reasonable... right?? His cock was so thick now that his growing hands only went halfway around it. It had started getting longer too, and had to be nearly 10” long. The head of his cock had never been much thicker then the shaft, but Ian could now see that it had started growing with the rest of his cock, and was now a huge mushroom sitting on top of his cock. Ian spread out is hand on it, and discovered the head was wider then his palm, and had to be at least 5” long. Fuck!! His head was bigger then some guys cocks!!! Wave after wave of testosterone was entering Ian’s system, and he found that his pubes were getting much longer and fuller. Doing his best to look at the rest of his body, he could see and feel hair shooting out of every pore. If he stayed very still, he could hear his body growing, his cock expanding, and hair sprouting everywhere. He itched his face and felt the starting of a thick beard growing in. He tried standing up to look in the bathroom mirror, but he was taller then the ceiling now. Kneeling quickly down again, he tried to crawl through the door, but his shoulders had begun to widen immensely, to pack on muscle, he guessed, and he simply couldn’t get through the door. I’m a prisoner of my own sitting room, he thought as he sat on the floor. Looking down, his chest was now completely covered in a thick pelt of brown hair. Running his fingers through it, it just felt so good... so masculine. He moved his hands to his face and felt the tremendous growth of beard that had occurred in the past few minutes. It felt long, curly, and dense. Sticking his finger into the beard, he could hardly feel skin beneath!! It was like there were 10 hairs growing out of each pore!! Hair was now coating his arms and legs, the back of his hands, and the tops of his feet. Lifting his arm, he saw long black hair had taken up resident in his pit, coming in as thick as the rest of the hair on his body. Within not time at all, Ian was as hairy as he had wished to be… and still… like everything else on his body, proceeded to flourish. The more the super strong testosterone flowed into his body, the more Ian was welcoming the changes that were occurring. His cock had to be at least 15” long and so thick. It was becoming a pure column of masculinity! His huge balls had stretched his sack further and further and just kept getting larger. Even his own body was on an unstoppable course growing taller and taller, his cock increasing longer and thicker, and everywhere possible, hairier. Ian knew deep down the demon had heard everything he had said, and by sunrise tomorrow he would be the creature he had envisioned as he came: taller the anything on earth, oozing testosterone from every pore, muscles erupting over his entire body, and a cock that was a force all its own. As if his acknowledgement further welcomed the changes, the testosterone of 29,000 warriors began to be released into his body and his muscles began to grow. His shoulders, which had already grown wider for this purpose, simply erupted in mass. Ian cried out in ecstasy as he felt this first surge of muscle. As each muscle in his shoulders proceeded to gain serious bulk, his deltoids were becoming rounder and more defined, adding more and more size to his already wide shoulders. His neck joined in with his delts, quickly becoming an enormous pillar of muscle. From his shoulders to his neck, traps began to emerge, thicken, and gain more girth. His already hard and growing cock was leaking a copious amount of precum as Ian fell into a trance of constant muscle growth. Pecs burst out of his hairy chest, becoming firm and round, inching out further and further until the sheer weight of these brand-new pecs began to force his nipples to point down. Fuck!!! Even his nipples were growing so huge… so firm. Just owning pecs like this was the most incredible feeling; he couldn’t imagine what an entire body of muscle felt like!! With one hand doing its best to stroke his massive cock, the other enjoyed feeling the sheer size and feel of such muscle and hair. Moving down, bricks of abs began to explode out of his lower torso. As each one burst out, Ian simply whimpered, not even able to vocalize what he was feeling. All he could do was drool and try and feel each blossoming muscle with his hands. His giant cock was shooting precum now like a geyser, hitting the wall with a slap. Each abdominal muscle fought for space, getting more dense by the minute. The crevices in between becoming deeper and deeper, that Ian could nearly stick half of his immense fingers in them. His Adonis belt enhanced as his waist tried its best to gain more size while remaining as tight as possible. What is happening to me, Ian thought as he urged on more and more growth. Even his pelvic floor muscles grew larger and thicker to support the 18” of cock he was now sporting. As more and more testosterone took over his system, Ian craved more and more growth. A beast was being released, and it never would be satisfied. Ian flexed and bounced his pecs, loving his new ability to do this. As he looked around the room, he quickly realized his body was taking over most of the space. How tall am I now, he wondered. Have I passed 12 feet in height?? What will it feel like to be hundreds of stories tall, his legs dwarfing buildings, and his head hidden in the clouds? I’m scared shitless right now, but it’s the best scary feeling I’ve ever felt. I can’t stop it… I don’t know if I want to stop it if I could! How will I live when I’m that big? Fuck!! Who cares!!! I’ll be a living mountain!!! No! Don’t think that way!! This has to stop soon!! He knew the demon must have enjoyed granting this wish, a blessing and a curse all wrapped in one. More veins erupted onto the surface of his cock to better supply more blood to the growing appendage. His cock didn’t look real anymore. It looked like one of those morphs you once saw on Tumblr. It was now becoming so thick that his pelvis was becoming larger just to accommodate its size. Ian tried to think what its thickness reminded him off, but he cane up short. It must be as thick as three wine bottles stuck together was the best he could come up with. His balls also forced his legs wider. They were so immense now that the sack sat comfortably on the floor filled with two watermelon sized testicles sending out wave after wave of insane growth. Ian screamed out as his upper arms blasted with sudden mass as his biceps and triceps quadrupled in size. His arms were already so long that the muscles had plenty of room to multiply into colossal mounds. Flexing his arms felt totally comfortable to the testosterone fuelled Ian. Each time he did it, the peak was higher and higher, thicker and denser. If only there were people here to witness his reality defying size. Trying to make more room for his increasing body, Ian swung his lower arm to push the sofa to the side, but instead succeeded in fully demolishing it with little more then a tap. Ian simply laughed when he saw this happen. I’m so fucking strong now!!! So strong!!!! He picked up a piece of the couch and squeezed it, watching it disintegrate between his fingers. Destroying the sofa gave Ian a little more space, but his entire body was beginning to take up the entire large room. He was already sitting in the floor, his back resting against one wall, his head inching up to the ceiling, his legs folded on the floor, and his feet taking up nearly half the opposite wall. As his upper arms bulked up in size, his firearms followed, becoming as thick as his leg, then surpassing that. His hands, nearly four feet long, also became stronger and more rugged as they morphed into the hands of a true weight lifter. Each digit swelled into fat sausage-like fingers, and the palms of his hands were hardened with the toughest calluses. He opened and closed his hands and fell in love with this appearance of pure dominance… pure masculinity. His hard cock surged up longer and hit the opposite wall, putting a indentation into it. Ian laughed as he flexed it, watching as it put further holes in the wall. I have a fucking wrecking ball for a cock!!! As Ian flexed his arms over and over again, enjoying the bloated feel of his muscles, his lats began to spread out wider and wider. How many inches around was his chest?? Had he hit the 150 inches mark?? He had surpassed that in seconds as his lats grew more and more freaky, forcing his own arms to bow out. His rib cage also had to have grown in the process since his chest was so insanely huge. Looking down at his torso the best he could, his lower half, though tapering in significantly, had to be at least 90” around. These were all guesses. Ian had no clue how huge he was... all that he knew was that his head was inching closer to the ceiling and soon he’d have no other option then to demolish the house around him. It sounded like a bomb went off the moment his quads began to grow. Quickly they began to take up more and more space, forcing his legs to straighten out more. Barely able to see his quads due to his pecs and position on the wall, he felt them with his hands and realized they had to be as big as redwood trees and still growing. Painfully, He could feel his pelvis shifting, altering, and adjusting itself to enable his quads more room to grow. He was sure that with these quads he would definitely find it difficult to walk unless it was in a bow legged fashion, or the traditional waddle of the bodybuilder. He was able to see his left calf grow until it was the size of his original quad, and then burst even larger. Like his hands before them, his feet got fatter and wider as muscle mass packed into them. Ian has never thought of feet as sexy before, but that wasn’t until he saw how beautifully muscular his hairy feet were becoming. With a thud, Ian’s huge head hit the ceiling. He tried to crouch down more, but only succeeded in knocking the wall down behind him. He fell backward into the rubble, and realized that at least lying down in the hallway gave him a few more feet of room to grow. This is a nightmare, he thought, as heard his entire body getting larger and larger. Fuck, it’s a dream!! I’m so fucking enormous! This house is like my cocoon and I’m going to burst out of it soon. Wait till you see me, world!! He felt his cock swell more and take down part of the ceiling with it. Laughing, Ian knocked down part of the wall that separated the hallway and the kitchen. I’m a one man wrecking team!!! Hundreds of pounds of muscle were being deposited on Ian’s body each minute, as he grew bigger and bigger. Very soon he had out grown the extra few feet in the hallway and was going to have no other option then to push his way out of his ever decreasing prison. His cock had already started the fight with the walls and the ceiling, and would no doubt serve as an excellent battering-ram!! Shifting his ever growing legs, he planned to simply push the back wall out and go from there. Once his legs were straight, he could sit up, taking the entire house down with him. Then the world could finally witness its new resident... its living monument to masculinity!! He was just about to set his plan in motion when all growth ceased, and a voice filled the entire house. - Ian Winter’s... working with magics beyond your realm of understanding can be a dangerous affair. You called me, made your request known, and to teach you a lesson, I have begun to grant your desires. But never let one say that I’m not merciful. I give you a choice: I can grant you what you wanted originally... the perfect human form of masculinity... or you can continue on your journey here... What will it be? Ian lay there in silence, his entire house ready to fall down around him. The demon was willing to give him a normal life with the body he had originally wanted... or he could forget normal and embrace what he was becoming. He shifted his body slightly, sensing the weight and feel of every muscle on his body. His titanic cock was leaning against the opposite wall... it was incredible but he would never fuck again. His body was so hairy, the smell emitting from it so intoxicating... but was this what he really wanted... or had it been a silly horny fantasy? No one really wanted what he was being given... or did they? To live a life beyond massive... to tower above the world... to be a beast of pure sex and pure muscle... - What will it be, Ian Winters? Remember you have only been given less then a quarter of what you asked for. Ian opened his mouth... was he really going to do it? Was he really going to throw away his life for muscle… masculinity? YES!!!!!!! Terrified and excited at the same time to say the words, his leaking cock told the demon his answer. - Do it!!!! Let’s continue this journey!!!!!! - So be it!!! It felt like twenty nuclear reactors exploded in Ian’s body as his growth went into full throttle. - Just as you requested... So tall that your shadow covers London. Ian finally felt free as he erupted from his house. Not having to worry about that anymore, he just reveled in the orgasmic feeling of growth. Taller and taller he got, taking up more and more room!! Soon his own foot was as big as a small car, then a medium sized one... then a Hummer. The whole world was getting smaller and smaller and he loved it. He was talker then the tallest tree!! He was several stories high... he constantly took up more and more space and the feeling was indescribable!!! He shifted his stance, and he took down several houses around him. For a second he felt sorry… but what could he do? With a body like this, there was bound to be destruction!!! Ian could hear screaming coming from below him and he just grinned… no longer caring. - My cock defies description... long, thick, thousands of highways of veins... so freakish it would be disgusting... and so large you couldn’t even fuck a blue whale Were those really his words the demon was throwing back at him?? As he grew taller, his cock proceeded to have a growth spurt of its own. It was now so thick that it rivalled his waist!! Precum flowed like a river as it continually got longer and thicker. Ian felt like he was constantly being edged and this feeling only intensified with each passing second. Hanging past his knees, more and veins appeared in and around his cock. The skin was so thin that it actually had a bluish hue as thousands of more veins pushed out and pulsated on the surface forcing it to grow even larger. The head... fuck... a human could easily walk into his piss slit it was so huge!! Stretching his arm out as best he could, Ian took his middle finger and began to stick it into his piss slit. FUCKK!!!!! That felt amazing!!! He stuck it in further and began to move it in and out. I’m fucking fingering my own cock and it is the best feeling ever!!!!! - My balls are the size of cars and I have the testosterone of 150,000 cavemen! Ian roared like the beast he was becoming as his balls emitted the largest wave of caveman testosterone into his system. As his balls enhanced, so enormous and dense, they pulled his sack down virtually to his knee, other changes were beginning to occur. The hair on his head began to get longer, pushing down past his shoulders. His beard developed impossibly thicker, bushier, and longer. His whole body was now covered in the thickest black hair, but it was his chest, cock, and armpits where it was its most dense. A musty smell was emitted from Ian’s body and carried on the air. - Look at me!!!! I am so fucking masculine!!!! His voice was now so loud it could be heard 20 miles away, and it was constantly getting deeper and deeper till it sounded exactly like the thunder rumbling as requested of the demon. I can’t believe this is me... he kept thinking!! I am becoming so beautiful, so impossible!!! Fuck!!! I can’t stop growing!!! - I’m so masculine I’m de-evolving. His own words spoken by the demon hit Ian like a ton of bricks. As soon as he heard them, his entire face began to change. His brow ridge became more pronounced, his eyebrows bushier, his eyes deeper set, and his lips thicker. His PhD studies were thrown out the window, as all he could do was think about his body, his cock, his muscles, cumming, and food. Ian was pure instinct now. - I’m as hairy as can be, covered in tattoos and piercings. Ian roared and roared again as he became even hairier. His nipples suddenly had two immense silver barbells in them, his cock head had the largest Prince Albert anyone had ever seen... and both arms, chest, and abs were covered in tribal tattoos. These were virtually impossible to see due to his chest hair... but they did exist. - I’m a fucking muscle mutant, millions of tons of muscles. The words echoed in Ian’s ears and he welcomed them. Yes!! Fill me up with size!! My arms are like skyscrapers, my legs like mountains, fuck... my chest is too big to even think about measuring!!! I’m so heavy, so bloated with muscle, so ripped, every muscle pulsates on its own like it’s alive... and I keep gaining more and more mass!!! This can’t be real... but it is!!! Fuck, My lats are such massive wings they block the air flow around me!!!! - I just keep growing!!! I can’t stop!! I won’t stop!!! I’m the worlds nightmare!!! My head is punching through the clouds. I feel so alive!!! I can barely see the world below me!! All I see is an army of ants!! Look at my cock. Even with two hands I can hardly jerk it off... but I’m so horny!!! I need to cum so bad. What have I done??!! I’ve gotten my greatest wish fulfilled and I love it!! Nothing is mightier then me!! Nothing is more powerful then me!!! I am masculinity!!! From now on, when those human describe masculinity they will point up to the sky at me!!! At me!!!!!! With a roar that broke ever window for one hundred miles, Ian proceeded to ejaculate, showering the worshipers below.

This was a quick story I thought of while working out today, and wrote most of it a few hours later. I was inspired by the pictures of this famous actor... who shall remain nameless... on Instagram. It was just something quick and fun to keep my creative juices flowing while I work on the next chapter of The Test. Hope you enjoy!!! And You Wonder…What If ??? HC paced around the rented house he was staying in while in Los Angeles. Gazing at his watch for the eight time, he could see that Peter was already 15 minutes late. The little prick better not have run off with all that cash, he thought to himself. Moving into the kitchen, he decided that he would make himself a cup of tea. Yes. That would calm him down. Even after four days, he was still furious about the meeting with his agent. It seemed Warner Brothers had no further interest in him playing Superman either in the next Justice League film or in the sequel to The Man of Steel. Sure, he had said that he wasn’t interested in playing Superman anymore, but that was just a ploy to make more money. Everyone knew that and everyone did it. Of course, he wanted to play Superman again! - You’re just not big enough? - What the fuck are you talking about, Mel? I’m bigger then ever? I just finished filming The Witcher, and Mission Impossible got rave reviews. How can they think I’m not big enough? - No. It’s not your fame. That is totally fine. You’re simply not big enough… in size. - What? - You just aren’t big enough. Look at JM. He dwarfs you on the screen. How can fuckin Aquaman be bigger then Superman? - That’s crazy, Mel. I can put on more mass. You now that. - Of course I do, but not enough for Warner. They’re looking at some new kid who’s simply huge. Name is Tanner Evans. He’s gonna play Superboy or something. Sorry, Harry. That’s the way it goes. Why do you think HJ isn’t playing Wolverine anymore. - Because he’s too old? - Yeah. There’s that, but the audience just doesn’t believe it any longer. They want their superhero’s fuckin’ jacked just like they’re drawn. - I’ll do another screen test. - It’s not gonna help, H. - Tell them I want to do another screen test! Give me a month. I’ll seriously bulk up. I’ll do a cycle of roids. - Don’t! They’ll test you for your insurance, and if that comes up positive your dead. How would that look blasted across the internet: Superman Dopes Roids. - Fine. I won’t. Just get me another test. - I’ll try, H. I can’t promise anything. Now… lets talk about better things… Sure there were other movies, but not like this one. H had read the script and it was amazing. Far better then any of the others. He needed to play Superman again. That was why he hired Peter Fall, the personal trainer who had gotten HJ back in shape after Les Miserables. Peter and H met three days ago, and H told him exactly what he wanted. Peter had looked at H and told him it simply wasn’t possible. What H did to get ready wasn’t for everyone. - I’ll do anything. I’ll work day and night. 24 hours a day if I have to. You just need me to get in fighting shape. - It’s not as simple as that. - You know I’m dedicated. Look at my build now. I’m jacked. - You are… but what HJ did… that was different. - What do you mean? - Look… I don’t want to spread shit here… - Just say it. - HJ had a little help. Pharmaceutical help. - Roids? - No. Nothing like that. This shit is different. - What is it? - It’s an experimental growth hormone. It’s mostly used underground by fighters, wrestlers. Helps them get that edge over competition. - And… - It doesn’t show up on any test. You come up totally clear. I got it for HJ, and you saw him in that film. - Yeah. He looked great. - Exactly. He still needed to work out for pics on Instagram to make it look like that was how he did it, but the shit did everything. - How long does it take? I only have a month. - That’s the great part. It works right away. You’ll see results in minutes. - That’s not possible. - I’m not shitting you, man. I promise. - Get it. - It’s expensive. - How much? - 10,000 a dose. - How much did HJ take? - One. - Get it. That had been three days ago. A day later, Peter had called and told him that it wasn’t possible to purchase by the injection anymore. He would need to buy a whole vile. The cost would be 60,000. HC didn’t care. That was nothing. He transferred the money right away. Now Peter was late. He never should have trusted him. Never trust an ex-actor turned personal trainer! That was the rule. They always wanted to screw you over!! Henry tried to calm himself down by taking a sip of tea, but it only made him more agitated. Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, the doorbell rang. H ran to the door and swung it open. - Where the fuck have you been? - Sorry. Traffic. - You have it? - Of course. Peter took a brown bag out of his backpack. From that he removed a plastic bag filled with empty syringes, and a brown glass vial. - Here you go. - That’s it? - That’s it. - How much do I take. - The dose is .25 cc. - How do I do it? - I’ll just inject it into your glute muscles, and there you go. - Okay. Let’s get on with it. H began removing his jeans and t-shirt as Peter popped off the plastic top to the vial and sunk the needle into the plunger. From the plunger he pulled up far less then .25 cc’s, since that wasn’t really the proper dose. The proper dose was .2 iu’s, but H had no way of knowing that. He had no way of knowing exactly what Peter wanted from this evening. He should have listened to his own warning… never trust an ex actor turned personal trainer. - Bend over. - Okay. - Now, once I get the syringe in, don’t move. It’s thick and will take a few seconds. - Okay. Peter pulled the back right side of H’s black briefs down and admired his smooth perfect ass. Nice, Peter thought. Very nice… and soon it’s going to be oh so much bigger and better! First Peter cleaned the area with an alcohol swab, and then he sunk the needle into H’s ass and plunged the liquid in. He kept the needle in far longer then usual so H would think he was injecting more then he was. When he felt enough time had passed, he withdrew the needle and cleaned the area with the alcohol again. - There you go. All done. - Excellent. Should I be feeling it now? - Give it a few seconds. - Brilliant. H began to move around the room again. He couldn’t tell if he was more nervous or excited. Suddenly he began to feel something he could only describe as a pleasurable glow filling his body. - I can feel it. - Great. - Fuck yeah, I can feel it. I feel fuckin’ incredible. - Excellent. His chest was where H noticed it first. His recently trimmed hairy chest began to plump up, getting fuller. In a few moments, every muscle in his body began to gain size. His bi’s and tri’s pumped up, his lats grew a little higher, his quads bulked up, and his calves gained even more mass. H felt incredible. He was growing!! Even the muscles in his hands and feet grew a little thicker giving him the more rugged look that he had always been after. That’s why he never shaved his chest. He loved the mountain man look, and now he was definitely getting closer to it. In a few minutes, it was all over. - Fuck yea, Peter! Look at me!!! How much do you think I gained? - No clue. You have a scale? - Yeah. There’s one in the bathroom. Peter followed H into the bathroom and watched him step on the scale. - Twenty-seven pounds!! I’ve gained twenty-seven pounds in less then five minutes. Amazing!!! - That will certainly help for sure. - Damn right it will!! H began flexing in the mirror, going into a front double bicep pose, then a front lat spread, and then a side tricep. Peter could tell H loved what he was seeing by the slight tenting in his briefs. - Looking good, man. - Yeah I am. - They’ll definetly Cast you for sure. - Exactly. No way Tanner Evans has this size. - Tanner Evans? - Yeah. You know him? - Ummm… yeah. I do. H watched as Peter looked down at the floor. He stopped posing in front of the mirror and looked at him. - What is it? - Sorry man… that kid is huge. Massive. You’re big, but you can’t compete with him. I’m sorry. You should have told me that was who you were going against. - Fuck!! But look at me! I look amazing. - Yeah… but not compared to Tanner. Shit… he makes anyone look puny! - Give me another dose. - What? - Give me another dose. Can I take another dose? - I don’t know. They used to only sell it by the dose, but now no one wants an open vial, so you have to buy the whole thing. I’ve only ever given one dose. - I want another one. I’m sure it will be fine. Another should help, shouldn’t it? - Well… You gained 27 pounds? - Yeah. - I don’t think another 27 will help. Not against Tanner. I’m sorry. - Why not?!! H was getting angry now. - Tanner is much bigger then that. You can’t beat him. - Get the vial. I’m doing another dose. - I can’t. I really can’t Henry. - I paid for a fuckin vial, so get me the vial!! Walking away to get the vial, Peter tried to hide his smile. He had tried this out on HJ, but it hadn’t worked. He’d been happy with his results, but then he also had the role already. He just needed the extra size. H didn’t have the role… and he was much more vain then HJ. - Here you go. - What was the dose you gave me? - .25 cc’s. - Fine. If that gave added twenty-seven pounds, .50 will add over 50. - I don’t think you should do this, H. - Give me a needle. - I won’t give it to you, H. I want no part in this. - Fine. I don’t need your help. You can go if you want. Peter handed the syringe to H and watched him plunge the needle into the vial. Tipping the vial upward, H pulled up .50 cc’s, and thinking better of it, decided instead to pull up .60 for good measure. H pulled his briefs completely off, turned around, and plunged the needle into his ass. Pressing down on the needle, he injected all of it into his body. - There. Sixty more pounds of muscle will definitely make me bigger then this kid. He can’t be fuckin Hercules. H had just finished saying Hercules when he felt it over his entire body. - Fuuuckkkk!!!! This feels fucking amazing!! H’s voice had gotten much deeper as he spoke. Sweat was pouring down H’s body and he started pacing around the room like a caged animal. - This is it, Peter!! This is it!! I feel like a fucking nuclear warhead, and it’s only getting stronger! Listen to my voice!! It’s getting so deep!!! - Yeah. - It sounds so fucking sexy. It’s going to sound great coming from Superman. - Yeah it will. - My pecs!! They’re growing again. Peter watched as H’s two massive hairy pecs began expanding again. Larger and larger they proceeded to grow, a deep crevice appearing between the two. Soon the immense weight and size of each pec began forcing his nipples down towards the floor. - Oh yeah!!! They’re going to have to make me a completely new suit!! Fuck!! They’re nearly blocking my view!! H laughed, enjoying the tremendous feeling this growth was causing. Soon his lats joined in with his growing pecs evolving into what made him look like the head of a cobra. His arms began to hang further and further from his sides as his lats continued to grow even larger. - There’s no way that kid can beat me for size now! H cried out in pain as he looked at his hands. They were growing thicker his well. The muscle began to flow up his fore arms, blowing them up broader and thicker, and then up to his bi’s and tri’s. Henry flexed, and his upper arms were now nearly the size of Peter’s head. - What do you think, Peter? Do you think Superman has biceps like these? H stumbled for a moment, loosing his balance. He heard cracking coming form his hands and when he looked at them again, he could tell that they were getting longer. - I think I’m getting taller, Peter!! Should this shit be making me taller? - I don’t know, H, but you are definitely getting taller! H was inching up higher to give his body more area to add muscle mass. His legs blasted next in size, his quads and calves inflating, fashioning two titanic columns. H stood nearly 6’5 now and still he grew. If it was possible, his square chin got even more chiselled, and his hairy chest began to get even hairier. The fifty pounds he had thought he would gain was far behind him as he gained nearly 100; and still he grew. In the back of his head, H was concerned about what he did. He was getting too big… far too big. He was becoming almost unrecognizable. He was surpassing most bodybuilders when it came to size. The other part of his brain loved it and wanted the growth to continue. It just felt too good. He felt so powerful… as powerful as Superman!! H, with some difficulty, moved into the bathroom so he could look at himself in the full length mirror. The growth was continuing, but now it seemed to be focused on his cock. What had been of considerable size before was soon multiplying into a thick anaconda. The same size veins that travelled down his arms and legs began to wrap themselves around his cock feeding it, giving it more size. Forgetting Peter was even in the room, H began to stoke his cock as he looked at himself in the mirror. Peter hadn’t forgotten his was in the room. As H moved to the bathroom Peter made his move as well. Leaning down, he picked the vial up that had been left on the floor. Taking another syringe, he emptied the rest of the vial into it. With it in his hand, he moved into the bathroom. - You look incredible, H. Simply amazing! - I know. Even my cock is growing. - I can see that! - That kid will never beat me now. - No one will. With that, Peter injected H with the rest of the vial. - What the fuck have you done?!! - Enjoy the ride, H! HC’s whole body quaked with the onslaught of muscle growth. His chin was pushed further up as his pecs ballooned even bigger and grander. His abs formed an enormous cobblestone path down from his pecs to his crotch. The bones of his pelvis cracked and actually got tighter instead of wider, creating an inconceivable V taper to his body. His Adonis belt, or cum gutters as he called them, grew cavernous and more pronounced. This third injection apparently sent H’s testosterone into overdrive. Always a hairy man, the hair on his body began to grown in thicker and denser. His entire chest, which 30 minutes ago had been nicely trimmed and manicured, now filled with curling black hair. The hair travelled up his freshly shaved face, and began to sprout dark stubble. A few moments after, H had a thick five o’clock shadow, then two days worth of growth, then a week. H’s beard became thicker, blacker, and more intense as it grew till the tip of it was rubbing against the hair on his pecs. H looked up and saw that his growth was propelling him to the height of the vaulted ceiling in the bathroom. He had to be nearly ten feet tall or taller, he thought with an excited shutter. H was in two minds. One part of him begged for the growth to stop and for everything to go back to the way it was before. The other part begged for it to continue or never ever stop. From what he could still see of himself in the mirror, he looked incredible! He was so massive, so hairy, so masculine!! And his cock!! Fuck!!! His cock was a monster!! It had to be at least fifteen inches long and still growing longer and thicker. The head itself was simply unheard of. It was mammoth, dark red, and pulsing with each heartbeat. It was as long as his old cock had been soft, at least four inches, and at least nine inches thick. The head was at least an inch and a half fuller then his growing shaft, and persisted to grow bigger. He reached his hands down to touch it, and discovered he needed both hands to completely engulf it, the circumference was so immense. Even when soft, he couldn’t imagine how his own foreskin would ever fit around it. H laughed loudly realizing that his own cock head was the pinnacle of his hyper masculinity. A deep bass cry of pain left H’s throat as his balls proceeded to grow. What had once been hen eggs now grew to oranges, then grapefruits, and then coconuts. His crotch had also grown excessively hairy, and from his balls, he could smell his own musk rising up. Lifting his right arm up, he forced his face as close to his pit as possible. Flooded with long thick dark hair now, he soon discovered that his pheromones were also working in overdrive and he was exuding the masculine of smells. His own scent was quickly turning him on, and he found himself licking the head of his own bicep. He had to widen his stance, as his quads grew thicker. Afraid he was going to be a prisoner of the bathroom, H grabbed for the doorframe, and with less effort then it would take to rip a sheet of paper, he created a hole large enough for him to bend over and go through. I have to weight over a thousand pounds now, he thought as he forced his way into the living room, breaking down doorframes and demolishing everything in his way. On the floor he found the clothes that he had been wearing only this evening. He laughed a deep belly laugh as he leaned over and lifted up what appeared to the now giant of a man as something that would only fit a child. He searched for Peter but discovered the Personal Trainer was gone. That was too bad. He was getting hornier by the second and needed a place to stick his cock. That has-been actor had destroyed his career now, but H no longer cared. As he neared the ceiling in the living room, he realised that before he was always playing Superman. Now he WAS Superman!!! He would still be famous, there was no doubt, but now he would also be worshiped. A thick river of pre began to fall from his massive cock head. As he began jerking himself off, H continued to grown. He was relishing every sensation, as he grew closer to the ceiling. His muscles began adding on more pounds faster and faster, and his own legs began crushing his balls. He moved his feet further apart hoping to make more room, but soon they began to press against his balls again. He didn’t know what idea he liked more… his balls becoming so immense, or his legs becoming so massive. As best he could, H began to feel up his entire body. He no longer could touch his shoulders nor could he really turn his head, but he saw out of the corner of his eyes how round and hairy his deltoids were becoming. He began to think he would need to hire someone to shave his back, but then, he thought, why bother. Let the world see a real man for once, hairy back and all. Fuck, he was horny. His own pointer finger was now four times the size his old penis was, so he brought his hand down to try and finger his own asshole, but found he could only reach as far as his hairy glutes. Since he couldn’t see his own ass, he could only tell by feeling how unbelievably round, hairy, and full of pure muscle it was. H laughed, and executed a deep squat, watching his quads simply explode in size. Lusting after his own size, H grabbed his cock and began to jerk off. He had always been an XL on that one dating/sex app he had, but now he would have to list himself as XXXXXXXXLLLLL!! Even a serious fister wouldn’t be able to get his cock head in! Just thinking about that made his pre flow faster. H reached down to his oozing head, filled his palm with seeping pre, and coated his whole penis with it. As he jerked faster and faster, drool leaving his mouth and falling onto his own beard and chest hair, he quickly reached orgasm. HC let out a deep moan which escalated quickly to a roar. The orgasm lasted longer than a minute and nearly brought him to his knees. When he finished, he realised his cock was still as hard as before, and he was still just as horny. Would he ever be satisfied again? Just as he was about to hit the twelve-foot ceilings, the growth tapered off and stopped. Standing over eleven feet tall and over three thousand pounds of pure muscle, HC roared like the massive grizzly of a man he was. He loved the sound of his deep bass roar and expected to do it a lot from now on. He looked around the destroyed room and tried to find his cell phone. He wasn’t sure how he would dial it, but he had to call his agent. He was going to introduce himself to the world soon, and he would need someone to deal with all the press. Then he had to get back in touch with Peter. There were several other famous men H had on speed dial he’d like to see be introduced to the contents of that vial. He definitely wanted Peter to purchase more. At least ten to start. A new thought crossed his mind… maybe he would play Superman on film again. He would build his own Justice League of massive, freaky, muscular men. He would handpick each one, and he knew just where to start!

First time posting content on this forum... Thad this story floating around on other sites for a few years now. It’s still relatively short because I don’t often have the motivation to WRITE erotica, if you know what I mean CH. 1 "Graaarrr, I need to grow BIGGGEERR!" CLASH. Two 500 lbs dumbbells flew across the fully stocked basement gym, cracking the concrete walls. "Get in here NOW babe," bellows Meghan as she slowly raises her massive 750 lbs muscled bulk off a now busted bench. Her husband Nate rushes down the reinforced concrete and steel staircase, carrying a tray of hypodermic needles. Steroids. Lots and lots of steroids. No sooner did he reach his wife, when she flexed a massive most muscular pose, roaring like a lioness as her enormous upper body exploded, her mass swelling to three times it's 'relaxed' state. Meghan's outburst had its desired effect, as her husband's erection grew. "Hurry up and inject me Natey poo, your giga-huge muscle monster of a wife needs her juice if she wants to GROW even more MASSSIVVEEE!" Nate grins, and begins the injections, one in each muscle group. As the highest quality anabolic drugs flood his wife's blood stream, Nate asks, "Do you think you've gained any inches on your arms since earlier?" Turning to the full length mirror behind her, the former Sports Illustrated bikini model appraised her muscle bound physique. Smirking, she slowly lifts her muscle bound arms to vertical, her exercise ball shoulders crushing her ears. Even unflexed, her thick, meaty, golden tanned triceps dipped 2 whole feet below her elbow. Without bending her arms, Meghan clenches her dainty, feminine fists, causing her ripped, bulging masses of pure female muscle to rise into arms 85" around. Meghan purrs in sexual delight, warning Nate of the impending erotic explosion of flesh. Like a crane, she gradually cranks her arms up, every inch her fists move upwards causing a half doze inches of solid beefy bicep to rise. Her rugby sized forearms finally collide with her biceps at a 60 degree angle. Over 3 feet of brawny bicep, combined with her massive triceps make her majestic arms 6 feet tall, far above his 5'8" wife’s head. "Measure them now sweetie!" Nate rushes to get a step ladder and measuring tape, his erection ready to burst. Standing on the ladder, Nate can't help but feel tiny next to the beastly mass of Meg. Standing 6'1, at 275lbs, Nate is no small man. A bodybuilder himself, the former college lacrosse player, and current U.S Marine Colonel was used to being in control. Placing his large tough hands on his wife’s surprisingly smooth silky skin, and feeling the steel underneath sent his control out the window. Your arms are 230" baby girl! "That it she says?" Meg pouts her luscious lips, and shakes her head causing her long golden locks to become messy. "I can't look small for my man. Just look at my pathetic little chicken wings, I'm withering away for christ sake. Hold on, let me pump some." As the uber buff Meghan walks to her weight rack, her near half-ton weight cracks the floor, each step a mini-quake. Falling to the floor from the ladder, Nate looks up at the 7 ft wide back of his goddess wife. Unable to turn her head, Meg blows him a kiss in the mirror, flashing a sultry, movie star smile. "Want to watch me GROW?...." CH. 2 In 2013, Meghan Wakefield was a sophomore marine biology major at UNC Chapel Hill. A bright young woman, with devastating beauty, and a bombshell body, she was a true southern belle, at the top of the world. She was captain of the cheering team and Class President. Her long blonde hair, perky C breasts, big bright green eyes, and long athletic legs easily got her a modeling career with Sports Illustrated. She ended u meeting Nate over Spring break 2014, in Florida. Nate, a handsome country boy, and a Harvard law student, was in town for his lacrosse teams championship. Little did they know that they're lives would be forever changed. CH. 3 Laying on the floor of his custom built basement gym, Nate had the perfect view of his perfect woman. Not four feet from him was the most massively muscular, most insanely jacked female. Make that the most muscular HUMAN ever. Only two years ago, Meg had been a fit, long legged bikini model; what stood before him now was a monstrous musclebound goddess, of giga-proportions. At a mere 5'8" tall Meg was at least 11 feet wide from exercise ball sized shoulder to exercise ball sized shoulder. Her aircraft carrier back alone was 7 feet wide. "Honeybuuun, whatchya doin?" drawled Meghan. "Quit daydreaming and pay attention. Y'all don't want to miss the show do you?" Taking slow, deliberate and quaking steps, Meg went to the far end of her dumbbell rack, her oversized oil drum thighs forcing her to waddle. "Let's see, those light 500 lbs single arm bicep curls barely warmed me up. I got to go REALLY heavy to impress my big strong Marine." Picking up a 700 lbs dumbbell in each hand, Meg turns toward the mirror and starts repping out alternating hammer curls at a blistering pace. "Oh yeah baby, ohhh yeah! LOOK AT ME! Have you ever seen arms this fucking huge? Oh god am I hot, like I AM SOOO MASSIVE I FRIGGEN LOVE HOW THICK I AM!" Rarrrrrrg! With a ear spitting roar, Meg rips out 1 more curl and with massive power hurls the quarter ton weights at the wall, embedding the steel two feet into the concrete walls."I am THE MUSCLE GODDESS! Look at these biceps, they must weigh 150lbs each! Your muscle freak wifey gained 50lbs in the last 15 minutes alone!" With a coy grin, knowing it will rial his wife up, Nate says, "Babe your arms are pretty big, but your chest and legs look a little small..." With a smoldering look in her gorgeous green eyes, the 800 lbs female behemoth growled, "I'm just getting started." CH. 4-6 So swole. So thick, so wide, so meaty. So...fucking. Sexy. Meghan was staring vainly at herself in the mirror waiting for her husband to come back with her next round of steroids. God I love juice, thought Meghan, almost as much as I love muscles. Hearing the basement door, she quickly clenched her glutes, giving Nate a spectacular view of her ass. Each cheek was the size of medicine ball. "Bet you could bounce a quarter off this ass huh babe." "You could bounce a bowling ball off that butt Meg," smiled Nate, as he began injecting the steroids into his wife's glutes, hamstrings, and calves. As Nate bent down to inject her calves, Meg suddenly raised up on her dainty feet. Nate had always been a leg man. Meghan had legs alright. Flexing down hard, Meg's calf kept getting thicker and thicker, until it was easily bigger than a basket ball, bulging a foot and a half from the back of her leg, and so wide that even with her legs spread, her calves rubbed against each other. Knowing she had him now, Meg cooed, "Just wait until I actually do some lifting before you cum all over my beyond huge calve." " But let me pump up my sexy little quads first okay pumpkin?" The mere act of dropping back down to her feet caused a massive shudder to rattle the gym. Walking to the squat rack was more difficult than it should have been, given the insane mass of her planet shaking quads. "Ohhh wow does that feel good. I just love knowing my weight alone cracks reinforced concrete. Imagine what would happen if I actually tried, imagine the POWER I posses. Taking her place in the squat rack, Meg unracked the bar and raised it to her shoulders. She was so wide that Nate had to specially build the entire set up, and the bar was made of 4" diameter titanium. Every inch of the bar was filled with 200 lbs weights, bending the super strong bar. 20 plates total plus the 200 lbs bar meant Meg was about to squat 4200 lbs...Jeesh, thats as much as my truck Nate realized. "Hey stud, get a load of this." Meg was so built, she couldn't even reach proper form, her ultra huge hamstrings and ass slamming into her lower legs preventing her from going lower. "2 tons is sooo taxing on my tiny little legs Nate. Can you 'cum' spot me pleeasse." As he went behind her, Meg yelled, Never mind, just kidding! And proceeded to push the weight up over her head, holding it there, and with a massive grunt, heaved the entire 4200 pound bar up, sending it through the ceiling and into the next story of the house. "Dammit, there is no weight in this house capable of quenching my thirst for pump. There is no weight on EARTH that my genetically superior mega muscle won't lift. I am UNSTOPPABLE!" Nate was worried now, he'd never seen her this way. "Baby I am the strongest woman in the universe!" "Just think about my power, my strength. All I want is MORE MASS. MORE POWER. MORE MUSCLE! Measure my legs before I work my beastly chest!" Slightly unnerved at the dominating tone, Nate grabbed the tape.He literally couldn't fir his hand between Meg's thighs, there was just that much beef. Each redwood thigh was 5 feet wide and almost as thick as he was. " 270" quads must be a record hun!" "Hey babe. Measure my calves before I squish you like a pancake between these record breakers." "115" calves! Holy shit!" From his knees, Nate looked up to try and see his wife's expression, but could only see her chest. Meghan suddenly laughed, her entire body swelling with new found beef as she inhaled more and more air. "The power the strength, the mass! What a rush!" she screams as she plows a fist into wall. Nate falls on his back, now afraid. His wife just put a 3 foot deep crater into walls built to survive a nuclear explosion. Lifting her foot, Megan slams it down between Nate's legs, sending cement flying with a massive boom as her leg is buried to her knee. "Take a good look at this monster leg you skinny little runt. See the size difference? You are NOTHING compared to me! I could tear you to shreds!" Meg strides to the weight rack again, sinking deep into the floor with every step."This will blow your mind!" Bending over, she grabs the rack, and LIFTS THE ENTIRE THING UP TO HER WAIST. "See my power? Just think what 300" arms can do! No, watch what they can do!" With an orgasmic roar, Meg begins curling the 3 ton rack to her chest. Her now uber pumped biceps only manage 6" before they meet her now truck tire forearms. "You think this is heavy? You think this is as big as I can get? You think I'm fucking big now ?" " Well I'm going to school you in the personification of ENORMOUS!" Taking a deep breath that expands her mass by 50%, she violently throws the rack into the wall, causing massive destruction and shacking the entire foundation. Flexing a jaw dropping crab pose, Meg orders Nate to get the rest of her steroid supply."Got to get bigger bae, the only thing I want is pure mass. Pure muscle. I must weigh 1,000 lbs, but the body you see before you now is a 90 lbs weakling compared to whats next." Throwing her head back in ecstasy , Meg roars, "I WILL GROW EVEN BIGGER!" Shit, shit, shit, Nate mutters to himself as he sprints up the basement stairs at a break neck pace. Bursting into the kitchen, he races towards the double door fridge where Meghan's steroids are kept. Might as well grab it all, he says to himself, as he picks up 22 syringes of a secret, experimental steroid designed by the DOD. Nate cringes as he here's more concrete crack; knowing the bill to repair today's damage will put a decent dent in his savings. I guess that's the price to pay for having the worlds hottest wife. Turning to the door he looks down toward the end of the hall where the dust is still settling from a 4,200 lbs weight shooting through the floor. Nate almost falls down the stairs as the entire house rumbles and shakes. "Rarrgggg! HAH, puny steel! Feel the power of my super pumped muscles!" Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Nate sees Meghan flexing over what was previously the dumbbell rack, only now it looks like an accordion, shoved deep into the foundation. Dear lord, it took 6 of my men to to lug that down here last month... "Honey bunches! Oh look, more juice! Is that for me? Ohh, you shouldn't have!" "Look honey, look at that pathetic piece of crap you call steel. Weaker than butter if you ask me Get to the injections, I just love how I feel right now. Like, I'm literally 4 times the size of you! My strength is superhero shaming, but my size is the real turn on." Raising her arms out like the goddess she is, Meg whispered, "Make me grow my king." Nate's more than happy to oblige. Five minutes later, he takes a step back, stepping around the now empty syringes, kind of looks like a heroin addict lives here, he thinks. Almost like she could read his mind, Meg coos, "I'm a muscle obsessed, steroid junkie addicted to getting bigger, gaining more and more massive muscles is all I think about. I'm by far the largest bodybuilder history has ever known. My bicep alone is bigger than Jay Cutler's entire body. And just think babe, I'm not done. No. Not even close. In fact, look at this." Stepping on the heavy duty scale in the corner; that he'd bought from the local zoo (to weigh elephants, rhinos etc...), she sent the numbers on the screen reeling. 700lbs. 850lbs. 1000lbs. 1200lbs. Good lord, Nate mumbles. Finally, the readout stops at 2050 pounds."Just think Nate. Your mega massive muscle wifey weighs over a TON! And I just took even more roids! Grrrg! Roooaaar! More! Yeeeess, I can feel myself growing, I can feel myself getting heavier! Just flexing is adding serious mass. I AM POWER! LOOK AT ME NATEY POO, I JUST GAINED 100 LBS FROM FLEXING MY ARMS! You better run for your life, because this house is comin down y'all." CH. 7 It was approaching dawn when the entire gated community of Orchard Heights shook to its foundations. Raaaarrggg! Mother fucker get bigger!!!! Megan bellowed as she again slammed the mangled remains of Nate’s trucks together. She’d been repeating this motion for well over 4 hours now, trying to work her monstrosity of a chest. Meghan was getting angrier and angrier with ever “rep” as each 10 foot wide pectoral would swell immensely and crash into each other with enough force to create a sonic boom. Her chest stuck out 14 feet in front her so it was impossible to do a normal bench press. That and her biceps which were each pushing 6 feet WIDE and even thicker. Her bicep alone was almost 200” flexed. Her tricep was 2/3 bigger!!!! Her muscles were not ripped, or shredded, or any other word that could describe a human being. She’d long surpassed that species. The definition between muscle groups was insane. Sickening. Her shoulders were so jacked that when she raised them a mere 6 inches, her head was at risk of being sheared right off. She liked the pressure though. It wouldn’t be impossible to create diamonds if you placed a lump of coal between her striations. In her hands, she had taken two military hummers of Nate’s, grabbing the bumper of each one and swinging them in together to simulate the pec deck motion. Only she was single handled swinging a 7,700 lb armored vehicle by its bumper. (The US Army took some pride in that engineering marvel) Nate had once seen a strong man take one end of an Olympic barbell and raise it straight out in front of him. He held it horizontally with one hand for maybe minute before his arm shook and he dropped it. The exercise worked stabilizers and forearms etc.. Meghan was doing a similar movement. With 8 plus tons. Meg’s bright white and pink, size 6 Nike Shoxs and thick pink hooters slouch socks were planted firmly on the pavement, which itself was no longer very firm, considering a woman who weighed more than an African elephant was pressing down on it with immense strength and power. Her insanely tight white yoga pants that could cover a circus tent, despite barley serving on her, were stretched so tight that her deeply tanned skin shown through completely. The military had wanted to design a new material similar to Spandex, that would be bullet proof and tear resistant. When Nate had heard about it, he figured Meg would be the perfect test for the material. Her monster quads and hamstrings were slowly but surely bulging so massively that the thread was coming unstitched. So much for that, better luck next time DOD. Freakishly inhumanly thick traps throbbed far above her head, they peaked more than a yard above her hair. Her shoulders, pecs, and traps already enveloping her head, each rep smooshing her almost to point of strangulation and blocking her entire view. All she could see when her arms were raised was her own musculature... and as far as she was concerned, there simply wasn’t enough of it. With her arms straight out holding the trucks, her triceps dipped low. Hanging like a side of beef was incorrect...her triceps were bigger than the whole cow! Hanging so low they merged with her “wide as a barn door back. Once again, misleading because her back was bigger than a whole barn! Much bigger! Her back was pushing 30 feet wide at this point. That’s 360 inches. 914 cm. Bigger than an entire Mr. Olympia lineup combined. And then multiplied by two! With her biceps peaking over her head and her triceps dropping so low they hit her knees (they literally pressed down into her massively exaggerated wide hips and quads) she would take a deep breath and then tense her enormous chest muscles, bringing her arms as close together as possible and really squeezing her pecs. The sight was ridiculous. The noise was deafening. The air sizzled with the heat of her raw sexual, beastly power and mind warping size. Sweat glistened and dripped flowing down the huge cuts in the chest muscles, turning to steam in the brisk morning air of New England. Pure raw power. Pure sex. Pure MUSCLE. The quiet gated suburb of Orchard Heights was alive with the sound, sights and smells of Meghan Wakefield erotically pumping her massive muscles. Held in her deceptively dainty well manicured hands were two military humvees weighing 4 tons each. “Fucking look at me and tremble you scrawny bitches, look at this power this size! MY power! MY size! Im unstoppable!” I AM POWER! I AM MUSCLE! I’m the most insanely pumped up, super humanly strong, mega-ultra-super-heavy weight bodybuilder! I am the most muscular living thing to ever exist or ever will! Worship me as I obsessively pump myself even more massive!” Meghan roared, to nobody in particular, but yet for all the world to here. Of course, the neighborhood had been evacuated hours ago when the “earthquake” struck. Or at least that was what the news was calling it. Technically, there WAS an earthquake, or better yet, a “Megha-quake” if you will. After destroying the basement, Meghan’s roid- induced mania and wild, driven desire to bulk up went into overdrive. Against Nates adamant pleas to calm down, Meg had pulverized the entire basement and house when she tried to exit the basement. Walking up the stairs proved unsuccessful as her giga-weight was so heavy she completely crushed the heavily reinforced concrete and steel stairs when she stepped on them. The futility of the construction had enraged Meghan and she hulk smashed the stairs into crumbling bits. With hellfire in her eyes, Meghan had turned full on to Nate and flexed an ab and thigh pose so huge that her quads and chest actually knocked him over. Roaring with spit flying, she’d proceeded to crank her arms up and down over and over again, squeezing and flexing her monolithic traps and shoulders until they were bright red. Then she spied the old weight rack in the corner where Nate kept his weights. Giggling like a crazed school girl, Meg pounded her way to the rack and proceeded to upend it with one arm. Maneuvering her other arm into position, she hurled it across the room like a soccer player might do with a ball. A steal I-beam floor hoist was torn from the ceiling and sparked another idea. “Babe, I’ve always hated that you built this house with such roomy ceilings, it really makes me feel short. But I think I know how to even the score. Watch my fucking power babe! Meg ripped the I beam the rest of the way out of the ceiling and started swinging it over her head like a club, tearing through the floor and utterly demolishing the rest of the house. Nate cowered in the corner to avoid being hit by all of his nice things that were now falling hazardously around him from upstairs. To say he was scared shitless at this point was an understatement. Meg had gone completely off the rails and was a literal ton of roid-raging muscle and fury. (If not more). Who are we kidding, it was way, way WAY more. At some point Nate must have lost consciousness from fear/arousal because when he woke up, he was covered in concrete dust surrounded by remnants of what was once his beautiful home. Meghan was no where in sight but he could hear her animalistic, predatory grunts from the front yard. Nate quickly pulled out his phone to contact his security team at the Pentagon. Things were going bad fast. Worriedly wondering why Meg was grunting, he’d no sooner heard his office secretary answer when the quake hit. Knowing better, Nate wobbled over to the massive hole in the basement wall to see Meghan standing in the driveway with his Porsche flattened at her feet. She’d managed to jump (who knows how high) and came down like the hand of god on his prized 911. Still on the phone, his secretary was going crazy, “Oh my God, Sir, are you okay what’s going on omg!” “Wake up SecDef and alert Homeland and the President... not sure how this will end. And I want this area under an immediate mandatory evacuation order.” Now recovered from his shock, Nate was beginning to get royally pissed. His million dollar home was destroyed. His $150 super-charged Porsche was now a candy apple red pancake and he was pretty sure his insurance didn’t cover “acts of enraged muscle monster?” “Meghan Marie, calm down right now!” Nate bellowed her middle name in anger. (Maybe yelling at your girlfriend who weighs more than your HOUSE was a bad idea in hindsight.) Not bothering to turn around, Meghan’s voice effortlessly boomed, “you are an insignificant RUNT compared to my awesome godly power and I could literally rip you into pieces. I won’t because I love you obviously but it would be this easy.” She picked up the flattened Porsche and ripped it in half like paper, her biceps and forearms bulging and growing and thickening even further. “To make it up to your goddess you will worship at my feet and tell me how huge I am.” It had been around that time that Marines from Nate’s unit arrived and evacuated the street. The neighbors were being debriefed and fed the official story of “just an earthquake.” Of course, 2.0 earthquakes weren’t totally uncommon in New England but still.

This is my first story. It's going to have bite sized chapters and very regular updates (most likely daily). This is a m/m superhero romance. The first two chapters are mostly set up, but after that every chapter has plenty of sexy muscle and feats of strength, so please stick with it! Chapter 1 It began as all the best love stories do: with terrorism. The 24th of March 2013 is much like any other day. Hugo Chavez recently died, triggering what would go on to become an economic crisis in Venezuela, the UN security council has just slammed North Korea with harsh new sanctions, Justin Timberlake is topping the charts with ‘Mirrors’, protestors are waving signs outside Parliament, protesting about something, pigeons are shitting, rain is pouring, and I'm on my way to work. The newly opened Shard is difficult to miss. It towers over London’s skyline, jutting into the clouds like the lair of a comic book villain. I make my way inside, flashing my ID as I go. ‘Jake Langley’, it says in large capital letters, along with an employee number and my date of birth. I only show it as a courtesy - the security guards have all memorised my face by now. I sometimes wonder what they think of me. Am I ‘that cute, fresh faced little pastry chef with the dimples’ or do they just see me as a child straight out of college, coasting by on boyish looks, with no clue what he’s doing? I’d like to think it was the former. I’d like to. But I don’t. I wish I was the kind of guy who had the guts to ask. The kind who knows he's good enough, who knows he's not going to be rejected or shut down. But even if I wasn't gay, I will never be that kind of guy. It's not in my nature. I'm not assertive or domineering. I smile, wave, and make pastry. That's my nature. I slip by in this hyper masculine world by being too small for anyone to see as a threat. And for the most part, it works. The kitchens still shine like the day they were installed, which wasn't that long ago. Most kitchens are crowded, starkly lit places where you can barely move an inch without bumping into someone or knocking something over, but not this one. Natural light pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows, treating us to a view of London that millions of people would kill for. But I'm not here for the views. Okay, maybe a little bit. But mostly, I'm here to do my job. I find my little corner and start preparing for the day’s guests. It's a Sunday, so we're expecting a lot of traffic. There isn’t an overpaid banker in London who doesn’t salivate over the idea of lunch at the Shard. Russian oligarchs, Saudi oil barons, British royalty, Colombian drug lords - we serve them all. I don’t care who they are or what they do. It's none of my business. It sounds like a simple, boring job - making pastry. You’d be surprised at how much there is to it. There’s a reason they have pastry chefs – this is a difficult thing to get right. It's always come easily to me. I find something calming about rolling out a sheet of puff, spreading on the butter, folding it over, and rolling it out again. There's a rhythm to it. My movements soon become mechanical and I can feel myself floating away into a distant world where I'm someone interesting, somewhere interesting, doing something interesting. The kitchen hums around me as the first orders come in. Pans clink, hobs fizzle, water gurgles as it boils. I can barely hear the orders being barked over it all. But I'm not really paying attention. Boom. I can feel a wave of pressure pass through my feet, up to my head, and down again. Everything is shaking; the walls, the floor, the windows. Pots rattle above my head on their hooks. I turn to see the kitchen staff frozen, eyeing one another with pointed glares. I don't think I've ever seen this room so quiet. “What was that?” I hear one of them whisper, his voice carrying clear across the room. No one answers. Was it an earthquake? It couldn’t be. Earthquakes aren’t instantaneous, they're gradual. Then it comes again, much louder. BOOM. I don’t know if it's the ringing in my ears or the shaking beneath my feat, but I'm suddenly hunched over a table, flour covering my hands, gasping for breath. I don't know how long I spend there, trying to comprehend what's going on. It must be a minute or two, at least. My daze is broken as an alarm whirrs into life, high pitched and screaming. Red lights flash. All at once, the shock turns to chaos. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. They're coming faster now, from all over the building. I can feel them in my bones. While others run for the doors, I huddled under my table. What the hell is going on? My eyes drift to the windows, where black smoke is billowing up past our floor, carrying dust and paper. Fuck. I watched 9/11 unfold on live TV and I was here when they locked down London during the 7/7 attacks. It's impossible to ignore the reality of what's going on. This is a terrorist attack. I can see dark shapes floating past outside, just beyond the smoke. Choppers. News choppers. When I had dreamed of appearing on TV, I was thinking more along the lines of Deal or No Deal, not this. Anything but this. I'm now alone in the kitchen. I don't know when that happened. I presume everyone else has fled. My gaze flickers to the open door as I try to decide what to do. Maybe if I run now, I could get out before the building collapses. Or maybe the lower floors are experiencing the worst of it, and I'm best waiting up here while the blaze is brought under control. Is there anything here I could turn into a parachute? No, I scold myself. That’s pointless and stupid. I’d never break through those windows anyway. Turning on my phone, I check the BBC. The first result is a live video of the Shard, burning in a dozen places. The news anchors are speaking but I can’t hear a word of it. I watch the screen in horror as the fire begins to creep outward from the explosion sites. One of them is pretty close to this kitchen. Placing my hands on the ground, I feel warmth. There’s a rumbling sensation. Something is crackling not far from our door. As fast as I can, I slam it shut, backing away with a hiss as the handle burns my skin, leaving it red and blotchy. Now there’s smoke trickling in through the vents and the air is getting hazy. Pulling a wet cloth over my mouth, I run around the kitchen and turn on all the taps and block all the drains. They overflow one by one, spilling out onto the floor until there’s a pool of water an inch deep. This won’t save me, but it might slow the spread. It’s getting seriously hot in here. I clutch my burned hands around the wet cloth, which eases the pain, but nothing can stop the coughing fits. There’s soot clogging my lungs and in my eyes, causing them to water uncontrollably. The air is so thick now that I can barely see from one end of the room to the other. My only sign that the door has buckled is the red tongues of flame licking at the ceiling. At the same time, I’m hit by a wave of heat so overwhelming that my only option is to curl up on the floor and cover my face as I feel the skin of my back start to blister. Then something astonishing happens. Something so unusual that I wonder if I’m hallucinating. There's a silhouette visible through the smoke. A man. He's enormous, and seems completely unphased by the fire caressing every inch of his body. His eyes find me on the floor, and a look of relief flits across his face. I blink, and he’s suddenly leaning over me. How did he move so fast? I open my mouth to ask, but only a ragged cough comes out. Two huge arms gently scoop me up. I press my face into his chest to escape the heat. Somehow even in the middle of a burning skyscraper, his touch makes me feel safe. Protected. Isn’t that strange? I hear the sound of shattering glass, feel a rush of cold air on my neck. The arms wrap more tightly around me. The lurching in my stomach tells me we’re moving, and I try to look around, but one hand on the back of my head keeps me locked to his chest. As the adrenaline fades, my body starts to scream in pain. I’ve never felt such agony. It’s only a matter of time before blackness is creeping into my vision, clouding my mind. And then I’m gone.

Very slightly inspired by a recent news story...……………. For the second day in a row, the doctor noticed the white van parked across the street as he pulled out of his driveway, heading to his office. The cul-de-sac he lived on had only two houses, his, and his neighbors, who had left for Florida for the winter just last week. They had mentioned before they left that there might be a handyman around, fixing things at the house while they were gone. That must be his van, thought the doctor as he drove by it. That evening, as he arrived home, he saw a ladder leaning up against the neighbors’ house, and the handyman was just climbing down off of it. It was dusk, so it was a little hard to see, but the doctor could tell that the handyman was a big guy. And as he stepped off the ladder, he triggered a security light that was on the house, and the doc got a better look at the size of him. “Whoa,” said the doctor out loud, inside his car. The handyman was not young, but he was thick with muscle. He had on a black sleeveless Under Armour shirt that showed off the size of his big delts and beefy arms. As he turned to pull the ladder off the side of the house, the doctor could see the guy’s back muscles bulging around thru his tight shirt, and thru his sweatpants, he could see that he had the glutes of a prized champion bull. The doctor had slowed his car to a crawl to see as much as he could. Even as a kid, he had lusted for muscle, and now, at 35, that lust was stronger than ever. As he watched the beefy handyman lift the extension ladder like it weighed as much as a pillow, the front tire of his car scraped up against the curb. He stopped the car, but the noise of the scraping made the big handyman look over. As he carried the ladder toward his van with one arm, he waved at the doc’s car with his other. “Holy shit, the size of his arms,” thought the doctor to himself, as he waved back weakly and embarrassed, but highly titillated. He steered his car away from the curb and into his driveway. He pushed his garage door opener and then pulled into the garage. As the garage door shut, he stayed in his car, his head spinning, his thoughts racing. Good Lord, he thought, the guy’s arms have to be over 20 inches. And that ass! So thick and mounded, swelling the sweatpants into two perfect globes. God, I love muscleheads too much, he thought. And he was right, he did love muscle too much. At 5’10” tall and 200lbs, he kept in shape himself, but he was nowhere near the size of the beasts he admired. That’s why he belonged to several different hardcore gyms in town, so that he could go scope out all the musclebulls he could. He discovered early on that most of these alpha meatheads wouldn’t notice him or give him the time of day, until they found out he was a doctor. Then the whole dynamic changed. And the doc took advantage of that change. When the topic of PE drugs would come up, which it always would, he’d tell the biggest of the men at the gym to make an appointment with him. Pretty soon, a good sized group of powerlifting and bodybuilding cops, firemen, bouncers, construction workers, even lawyers, were coming to him for pharmaceutical grade gear. As the list grew, he started ordering supplies from eastern Europe, so he wouldn’t get in trouble when the state came in to go thru his records. He found that the stuff from Europe was vastly more effective than what he got from the states. His office began to get overrun with big musclemen looking to grow, so he opened a second office downtown just for them. Lately, though, he was getting a little nervous about how many guys were showing up. He started asking his ‘patients’ to stop sharing where they were getting their gear, and had his musclebound male nurse tell anyone who called that they weren’t taking anyone new for now. Unfortunately, some guys don’t like taking ‘no’ for an answer, and one night, right after the doctor got home, someone knocked on his front door. When he opened the door, there stood a guy from his gym. The doc knew from other people that this guy was an ex-con with a temper. His neck tattoo also added to the sense of menace coming off him. He muscled his way into the foyer, and told the doctor that he knew what he was up to, and that he wanted free gear and a lot of it, or he’d report the doc to the cops. The doc backed up in the foyer as he began to panic a little. This guy was wearing a tight tank top, and was bigger than doc remembered, probably around 220lbs of muscle that was tight and wiry. Doc was good at guessing ages, and figured the guy for about 30. And he looked fast. There was really nowhere for the doc to go to get away from him. Despite that, the doc looked behind the guy, thinking about trying to get around him and out the door. The big con just snorted a laugh and said “Try it”. But when the doc looked out, he saw the handyman walking up onto the porch. “You got a problem here, doc?” asked the handyman. He looked almost twice the size of the ex-con, who turned back, startled, and his whole body language changed as he soaked in the mass of the powerhouse standing before him. The handyman put his beefy hand on the guy’s shoulder and squeezed hard. The doc saw the skin on the ex-con’s delt turn white as the meaty fingers crushed the blood out of his shoulder. The guy’s legs buckled from the pain, and he sank to his knees. “Grab his wallet, Doc,” said the handyman, holding the guy down with ease even as he twisted and pulled trying to shake loose. The doctor grabbed the wallet out of the guy’s back pocket. “Now read his address to me,” said the powerhouse. The doc read him the address, and the handyman squeezed down harder with his thick fingers. Doc could almost hear the muscle fibers of the guy’s deltoid smushing to pulp. He was going to have purple deep tissue bruising for a month. The ex-con’s face blanched white from the pain. The big man leaned into his face and shook him as he said, “Listen to me, boy. You go on home now, and you leave the good doc alone, or I will hunt you down like the scumbag you are, and you will wish you were still in lockup. I’ll gouge your eyes out with my bare hands.” Then he released his grip. The guy gasped from the release of the pain, and almost crumpled to the floor, but caught himself and pushed himself to his feet. He slid along the wall, past the big man in front of him, and scurried out to his pickup. As they watched him peel out of the cul-de-sac, the doctor said thanked the hugely muscled handyman. The big man wiped his hand on his skin-tight black sleeveless UA shirt, as if to rub the grime of the ex-con onto his ridged roidgut. Even this casual motion made the heavily yoked up arm ripple and bulge. “You like what you see, Doc?” That wasn’t hard to figure out, since the doctor was swelling up inside his pants. “How’d you know I was a doctor?” The big man laughed. “I see things, Doc. Like your license plate that has MD on it.” He laughed again. “Plus, I’ve been to that gym of yours lately. I’d seen that guy there, and heard things. You were bound to run into trouble sooner or later.” He stepped in closer to the doc. “You wanna feel my muscle?” Then he flexed his left arm. “Holy shit,” whispered the doc. “How big is that?” “23.5, and growing. Go ahead and touch it, I know you want to.” The doc reached out and put his hand on the big peak. Then ran his hand up to the soccer ball sized deltoid. Then around into the deep armpit that was damp with hot sweat. The handyman lowered his arm and trapped the doc’s hand in his musclepit. “You’ve got the densest muscularity I’ve ever felt,” said Doc. “That’s from 40 years of heavy juicing, Doc.” This took the doctor by surprise because he thought the handyman looked to be about 40 years old. “ So, how old are you?” “I turn 57 next week.” “My god, that’s unbelievable. So you’ve been using since you were 17? “More like 15. Does it show?” Doc’s hand was still trapped in the big man’s pit. He was fully aroused now, and could see the handyman swelling up in his sweats too. “How much do you weigh?” Doc whispered into the big man’s ear. “340. You want me to fuck you with it?” he asked, as he pinned Doc to the wall. “God,” groaned Doc. “I tend to get a little wild once I get going, and I don’t want to bust up any of your nice furniture, Doc. Let’s go out to my van. It’s got reinforced shocks and a mattress in the back.” He curled the doc up the wall until his feet weren’t touching the floor. Then he tossed him over his left shoulder and fireman carried him out toward the van. As Doc bounced up and down on the broad shoulder, he had a great view of the big man’s glutes, and noticed that his sweatpants were pulled up over his huge calves. Doc had never seen calves so overdeveloped and veiny. He could spend a week just worshipping the massive gastrocnemius muscle on this monstrous man. When they got to the van, the handyman opened up the back and tossed Doc roughly onto the mattress inside. Then the big man peeled the skin-tight UA shirt off and tossed it inside too. As he climbed inside, the van creaked and moaned from his weight. Doc couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d seen pictures and videos of men this developed, like Big Ramy and Hadi Choopan, and just the visuals of them drove him wild. But in person…oh my god. And the smell inside the van. So thick with the man’s musk. As Doc looked around, he realized that the guy must be living in here. He was overwhelmed with lust, but also a little frightened. “Fuck me,” he said, not so much as a request, but as a statement of wondering what he’d gotten himself into. “Oh yeh, babe,” growled the big man, “I’m gonna fuck you alright. Fuck you till the sun comes up, you sweet piece of candy.” “Hey,” said Doc, as the huge handyman swelled up onto him like an incoming storm cloud. “What’s your name?” The big man pulled back a bit. “What’s it matter?” he said darkly, staring down at the doc as he began to pin him to the mattress with those powerful hands. “I just wanna see if you can make me scream it out as you fuck me,” said Doc, thinking quickly, and hoping he hadn’t hit a raw nerve. “Oh, you’ll be screaming it out alright. At least 4 or 5 times. You’ll be hoarse from screaming it out. Name’s Ruben.” “God, you’re so fucking big,” said Doc, as the massive muscle loomed over top of him. “Just wait, Doc.” “How big you wanna get?” “I’m gonna be the first 60 year old weighing a shredded 450.” Then Ruben started tearing Doc’s clothes off of him. From outside, anyone watching would have seen the van start to bounce and tip from side to side. They’d hear the muffled sounds of grunts and groans and an occasional thud as limbs hit the sides of the van, denting it outward. The windows quickly steamed over from the inside. As the night wore on, the thumpings got louder and harder, to the point that the van tires began to inch forward, leaving skid marks on the road. As the sun came up, the back doors of the van opened. Doc stumbled out as he pulled on his tattered clothes. He looked back inside as he closed the doors. Ruben was in a deep slumber, snoring like a hibernating bear. Doc limped toward his house. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck, and he sort of had been. His arms were bruised up and down. His wrists hand burn marks from where Ruben had tied his belt around them, then hung him from a bar at the top of the van. He didn’t think his ass would ever be the same. Whoever thought that steroids made a man’s dick shrink had never met Ruben Ruben took him six times overall, but also let him pec-fuck his 74” chest. Doc shuddered with pleasure at the thought of it, the biggest set of pec mounds he’d ever slid his dick into. As he climbed up the stairs to his porch, he had to use the railings. He was pretty sure he had a couple of broken ribs. He had to shower and get ready for work. It was going to be a long day. But as much pain as he was in, he knew all he was going to want to do was get back home so he could get back in the van and let Ruben demolish him all over again. He limped up to his bathroom and took his tattered clothes off. He saw in the mirror how bruised up he was. “Jesus,” he said, as he touched his ribs and winced. Then he saw the hickey on his neck. He remembered Ruben giving it to him, as he pinned him to the wall of the van. Doc almost came as the huge handyman sucked on him like a musclebound vampire. He almost came again as Ruben had him suck on his 24 inch neck. His skin was leathery and tasted salty as caviar. He started getting hard as he touched the big hickey and remembered the taste. Now, he was going to have to pull out an old turtleneck to wear to the office. He took the hottest shower he could stand, which helped him feel less battered up. Still, as he limped his was into work, his big Filipino male nurse said, “Damn, Doc, what happened to you?” “I had a rough night.” “It looks it. How’s the other guy look?” “Not so bad, actually.” They both laughed and got to work, but it made Doc think about the superheavyweight beast sleeping in his van, and it made his loins throb. He made it thru the day somehow, although he did leave a little early. His juiced up patients were less enticing to him than usual, as all his thoughts were back at his cul-de-sac. When he pulled up to his house, Ruben was in the neighbors’ yard, doing landscaping. He had pulled up a couple big trees and was tossing them to the curb. The trunks of the trees looked liked they’d been snapped rather than sawed. Ruben’s thick mounds of back muscles rolled as he tossed them. He was shirtless and caked in dirt and pine needles. He waved when he saw Doc, who put down his window. “Man, you’re a mess. You want to shower off?” Ruben sauntered over to the car, put his hands at the top of the open window, then pushed the car up onto two wheels. “Whoa,” said Doc, as he slid in his seat. Ruben looked in at him with a grin. He smelled of outdoors and freshly cut wood. Sweat ran down his chest, making little muddy rivers on his big heaving pecs. “Yeh, I could use a hosedown,” he said, as he lowered the car back to the road. His size and strength were making Doc throb all over. He pulled into his drive, and the two of them went into the house. Doc led the big man up to his master bedroom. “Nice place you got here, Doc,” said Ruben as he stripped out of his sweats. His big dick flopped out, then his big balls. Nothing on him had shrunk up from decades of roid use. In fact, he had the biggest set of balls the doc had ever seen, and his sac hung halfway to his knees. Ruben smirked as he noticed the doc checking out the goods. “And they just keep getting bigger. Every year, Doc.” Doc swallowed hard at the thought, then led Ruben into the bathroom. It had a big open shower that could fit six. Ruben made it look small. His big shoulders almost touched opposite walls. Doc turned on the water. When the water got hot, he lifted the hand wand and hosed down the big man’s traps and back. Ruben spread his lats out as the muddy water ran down them, and they jutted out like hams on each side. Doc could barely speak as he watched them swell outward, but he managed to ask, “Are you living in your van, Ruben?” He’d been wondering about it all day. “Yeah.” “Do you need some money to get your own place?” Doc asked as he hosed off the back of Ruben’s huge thighs. “Hell no, Doc. I like it. Gives me freedom to come and go. Besides, I’m flush with dough right now. Your neighbor paid me 10,000 dollars to watch me fuck his wife.” “He did?” Doc moved around in front of the big handyman, and pictured his big club inside his neighbor’s wife. Ruben chuckled. “Yep. Did her three times the first night. Then a couple times after that, before they left for Florida. She was having trouble walking, but I don’t think she’ll ever forget it.” “No, I doubt she will.” He looked the big man over as water ran down his enormous chest. “Man, where did you come from?” asked the Doc. The look on Ruben’s face darkened. He grabbed Doc around the throat with one big hand and shoved him against the wall hard, causing Doc to drop the wand. “You writing a book?” Ruben snarled. He squeezed Doc’s neck harder, making him choke. “I don’t like getting grilled, little man.” Doc didn’t think he’d been grilling and he was starting to panic a little. What had he gotten himself into? He was trying to pull back on Ruben’s wrist with his two hands, but there was no budging that grip. But just as fast as it had started, he saw Ruben’s face relax. He loosened his grip and leaned in and whispered, “Let me kiss it and make it better, baby doc.” He put his lips on Doc’s neck and started sucking on it. Doc’s eyes almost crossed from the pleasure of it. “Gonna give you a hickey necklace, hide the bruising.” Ruben took his big hand off Doc’s neck and sucked his way around, sucking hard yet tender. Ruben reach the other side of Doc’s neck, stopped sucking on it, and stepped back,. “Sorry about that, babe. My temper gets the best of me sometimes. Why don’t ya suck me off, calm me down.” Ruben forced Doc to his knees. Doc didn’t know rather to break free and make a run for it, or do as he was told. He wanted to do both. He was pretty sure his larynx had been damaged. He would be hoarse for a month. Despite his concern about his own safety, he grabbed a bottle of body oil and lubed the big man’s monster cock with it. The water wand was still spraying hot water all around the shower, steaming it up. Doc popped Ruben’s big mushroom cap into his mouth. The big man let out a deep groan, and shoved himself in. Doc wondered if some nerves in his neck had been damaged, because the big club slammed down his throat without him gagging once. “Oh, you way better than your neighbor lady, Doc,” grunted Ruben as he face-fucked him, grabbing his ears and working him up and down his oiled up shaft. Doc could feel the big man’s quad veins under his hands as he braced himself. He felt the heat of pre-cum start to ooze down his throat, and soon after, Ruben’s ejaculate exploding in ropes. Doc knew the average volume was around 5cc’s. Ruben’s just kept going up and up. Over 100. Maybe 200, thought the doc, as he swallowed and swallowed. He felt like he was milking a soft serve ice cream nozzle, only the custard was hot and thick. When he finished, Ruben pulled himself out of Doc’s mouth. Doc reached to turn off the water, but Ruben stopped him. “I’m not done yet,” he said. He picked up the bottle of body oil and pored it on his hand. He flipped Doc around, face first into the tiles. Then he shoved two big fingers into Doc’s ass. “Got to loosen you up, wouldn’t wanna hurt ya.” He rolled his fingers around and around inside him. Doc’s whole body twitched from the feel. The big man popped his fingers out and lubed his still-hard dick with the rest of the body oil. Doc heard the bottle slide across the shower floor. Ruben jammed himself inside Doc and began to rut. When he was fully inside, he lifted Doc up and began to air fuck him like a blowup doll. Doc arched himself as much as he could, pain and pleasure searing thru his body as he felt Ruben’s insane power and size in him, heating him up from inside. “Oh yeh, you way better than your neighbor, sugar,” said Ruben. Then he wrapped one big arm around Doc’s neck, still holding him in the air. Doc could feel his thick biceps peak pressing into his bruised Adam’s apple. “You like my sleeper hold, Doc?” Ruben tightened his hold and Doc started choking for breath. “Gonna put you out as I cum inside you, babe.” He rammed Doc harder and harder, yanking him back and forth in his choke hold. Doc couldn’t breath, and could feel himself losing consciousness. He felt ecstasy and agony at the same time. Was this going to be how it ended for him? He hated it and loved it. He wanted it to stop, but he wanted it to keep going. The supreme power of the brute behind him, using him, owning him like no one ever had. What a way to go, he thought, as he spiraled into darkness.

So, I was talking with my friend the other day. She is a very direct girl, who doesn’t hold any secrets - perfectly blunt, in every way - and she is like that when she approaches men. She can afford to be because she is 26 years old, average height for a girl, intelligent, funny and hot - the full package. I will not name her here. One day, at a gym that she frequents with her boyfriend, with whom she is in an open relationship, she decides to approach this incredibly handsome guy, who also is a devoted gym-goer. He too seemed oh-so-very much like a good deal. Young, witty, but also very tall (198 cm, or 6'6 in retard units) and, clearly, quite strong. Through her telling, my friend recalled the ease with which he did pull-ups. This is his Instagram pic, I was told. At some point my friend started up conversations with the guy, whose name is Philip, she tells me, and through the weeks of getting together at the gym and through Facebook comments, she saw that she has a lot in common with Philip, especially when it comes to their preferences for genres in movies and books. She also noticed that he is into her. One day, they decide to get together after the gym. With my friend there is no beating around the bush. They went straight to his place - no dates, no romantic walks. She had already learned his humor, likes and dislikes. She wanted to know his primal side now. What is he like when passion takes hold of him? She got more than she bargained for. “Can you imagine what he must’ve looked like after the gym that evening? All that testosterone brimming inside him…” my friend recalled. She remembered him being larger than ever before due to the pump he was having. Veins were jumping out of him. Probably looked like this other pic from his Insta account. When they got into his bedroom, my friend couldn’t help but marvel at how the entire place was well organised and tidy. The bedroom was spacious, so he had set up a pull-up bar and a heavy-looking punching bag. There were also quite a number of large mirrors, which made the room appear bigger than it actually is. Another set of mirrors was near the bed - one on the wall on the side of it, and the other stuck to the sealing above the bed. By the time they got to the bed, their clothes were shed. This is, by the way, where she finally got a good look at his beautifully shaped ass. At first, he was being very gentle with her as they were starting foreplay and kissing. However, at some point, my friend said that she started to goad him, so that he would become more rough with her. I think she likes it that way. After a slap here, a wicked laugh there, he grew increasingly - and visibly - annoyed… He wasn’t amused at all. He grabbed her by her arms and forcefully picked her up with great ease, as if to correct her behaviour. Then, he laid her back onto the bed with some frustration. She described his face as barely containing anger and remembers his loud breathing. He got up, nude, with every muscle and every vein visible on his large tight body, and he walked furiously across the room in circles. The muscle mass on him, combined with his imposing height, makes him weigh at around 115 kilos - nearly twice her weight. His steps were booming. He then took a sturdy metal chair from a corner of the room and placed it in front of the bed. Still annoyed, he said to her “come here.” She could tell from his tone that he was in no mood for hesitation, so she got up from the bed and walked up to the chair. He impatiently turned her away from himself and picked her up off the floor onto the seat, so that her behind would face him. It looked to her that this was his version of foreplay, so she was still looking forward to what may come out of this all. He entered her vagina with his decent-sized dick and thrusted strong enough that her knees were no longer touching the chair, which was there to support them in the first place. It felt good, albeit a little violent. While she was moaning, she looked up into the mirror by the bed and saw that Philip was focused solely onto himself in the reflection. She said that she thought at the time “Fuck, I’d be looking at myself if I were as gorgeous as him”. He was staring into his own eyes and into the glistening muscles of his own large and powerful body while practically holding her 60 kilos constantly in the air. He was going like that for several minutes. When he finally turned his focus to the girl he was thrusting, she felt that he was getting a bit flaccid. Not too much, for he was still a clear presence inside of her. Philip leaned over her back and stretched his arm down, next to her head. He was again gazing at their reflection in the mirror, but now he had a renewed hardness to his dick. My friend said that she was enjoying the feel of his strength imposed on her, and said that it was even more than she had hoped for. He certainly knew how to move down there, not just simple thrusts. She was genuinely enjoying it, but she was still able to see that Philip was actually focusing now on the monstrous size of his own arm when put next to her significantly smaller body. He flexed it so that the peak of his bicep would be right next to her head. She remembered how she rubbed her head against his bicep and feeling that rock-like hardness. Then, she told me, something unexpected happened. He got out of her, then proceeded to put her back on the bed. He placed the chair on the bed too, so that it was above her head. Now he was above her, and she was facing him, and their sex organs reunited. He was straddling her like a mighty lion, and he appeared inhumanly large above her. All she could see were his stone-hard abs and huge pecs as they were thrusting up and down, along with her entire body. Here comes the weird part. He looks down into her eyes. She was feeling a mixture of ecstasy and fear in that moment. He was insanely hot, even in this moment of bestial mindlessness, yet everything that was going on escaped even her wildest fantasies, and I can tell you, my friend has some wild imagination. It was in that moment when he grabbed ahold of the chair and, while looking into my friend’s eyes, proceeded to crush it! It was here that fear completely took over in my friend’s mind. Crushing that chair is no small feat. According to my friend, it had a steel frame with elements of hard wood and was quite heavy and solid. Philip squeezed it with his powerful hands while relentlessly looking into my friend’s eyes. Soon, the chair’s frame gave way to his pressure and started to grind and crack loudly. By this point my friend was petrified with terror at what she was seeing. Philip was practically turning from a prince into a savage monster before her very eyes. He groaned with his deep and booming voice as he was distorting and destroying the chair. He was looking with his cold unyielding eyes deep into her while he was doing it. He pinned the frame of the chair next to the girl’s petrified naked body and ripped the bars towards himself. She could do nothing but watch silently this monstrous display of power because she was helpless. The strength that was needed to pull and rip the steel outward was bordering inhuman. Looking at those dark, cruel eyes of his, she was actually afraid… that he was going to switch the chair with her at some point. Philip got off of her and violently launched the remains of what used to be a chair onto the wall, shattering it into bits that scattered on the floor. His wrath wasn’t subsiding, though. He then furiously launched hits at his punching bag. The whole building was shaking at the shockwaves that his punching produced. His precise movement and enormous strength with which he was hitting made it evident that had the bag been human, there would be no more life left in it. During this unbelievably intense moment, my friend’s wits came back to her, and she thought of a way to prevent things from escalating. She got off the bed to her feet and silently said his name in a calm manner. “Philip?”, in response to which he stopped his punching and looked at her. His chest was heaving from deep breaths, and his pumped up muscles were covered with sweat. She approached him carefully, barely containing her shivering, knowing full well that he might lunge at her. This time, however, she had gotten to know him a bit. She took his large hand and brought him to one of the mirrors. The blood was coming back to his cock at the sight of his own reflection. In that moment, he was a personification of power - a god of strength and beauty. Every muscle fiber was bursting on him. He was enormous, bigger than life. He wanted to turn around towards her, but she stopped him from doing that, lest he get some new ideas. She stood behind him so that his frame would completely eclipse her from the mirror. Only her hands were visible because she was caressing his muscles gently. He realised that it felt good that his god-like body is finally receiving some worshiping. His dick was insanely hard now. He looked at himself as the petit female hands were passing over the massive landscape of his sculpted V-shaped torso. He flexed his arms and allowed my friend to feel the enormity of power emanating from his hard lats, triceps, and biceps. He knew that nothing could stop him in this moment if he went on a rampage, but getting some love and appreciation for the body he had painstakingly built over the years felt much more rewarding. He could no longer contain himself. His breathing and his twitching stiff cock became a signal of the fact that he could no longer fight his sexual urges. My friend realised that, so she jerked him off. When he laid down on the bed, she gladly sucked him because she was relieved. He came in a torrent of sperm. My friend told me about this with clear fear and disbelief at the events she was describing, but I, for whatever reason, felt like it was the sexiest thing I had ever heard. She says that they are still friends, and I still see his comments on her posts, but she said that that day’s experience is something she is not eager to repeat… I barely contained my breathing as she was describing all of this to me. What did you feel? This is based on true events that happened more than half a year ago. Here is another picture of “Philip”. I hear that he finally understood what a beauty he is, so now he took to modelling.

This is my first complete story. Some of you have been reading this in the Unfinished section of this forum. It's now finished, so I'm posting it here. Thank you to those people who have already given me positive comments on this story. They will undoubtedly encourage me to write more stories. The story has six chapters. Some of them have gay themes, others straight themes, and others bi. I have made some very slight edits to the original six parts that were posted originally, to hopefully improve the story slightly, when it comes to grammar and continuity. Hope you enjoy my story! ------------ BLACK HULK Chapter 1: Kris meets Black Hulk Everyone gasped when he entered. He swaggered slowly to a deckchair, with his belongings, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. This was not odd, since we were in the hotel indoor pool, me and around six or seven strangers. What made everyone gasp was the sheer amount of muscular development this man's body was presenting to our senses. To me, those muscles were instantly recognizable. They belonged to Henk Kuria, or, as everyone in the porn industry called him, Black Hulk. Winner of the past three Mr. Olympias and a long string of other bodybuilding contests, Black Hulk stormed into the bodybuilding scene in 2020 as a 6'4, 380lbs unknown 20-year-old from Kenya. That year, he not only easily defeated, and humiliated, the then Mr. O. Phil Heath, but has won every bodybuilding contest he entered. The incredible thing is that, according to the latest news from the IFBB, Black Hulk weighed an astonishing 420lbs in last year's Mr. O., with a barely comprehensible 4% bodyfat. How do I know this? Well, I've jacked off at least once everyday as soon as my eyes feasted on this giant monument of musculature back then in 2020. So much, so that this year I decided to travel all the way to Las Vegas to witness this guy live. I truly am a huge fan of his. Not just for his giant muscles, but also for his lifestyle. A few months after he won his first Olympia, Black Hulk came out as bisexual. At first, there were rumors that the IFBB would retract his title, but soon common sense prevailed. At that time, Black Hulk started to feature in a lot of porno movies, some straight, some gay, and some bi. The astonishing thing is that, as time went by, not only did his incredibly huge muscles became bigger and bigger, but also, visibly, his cock and balls grew in unison. In his first porno, fucking Lela Star, he had a very respectable 8 inch cock. In his last, not only did he grew 40lbs of muscle since that first porn flick, but also 2 inches of cock; moreover, his dick is visibly much thicker. This last porno was a reverse gangbang, where Black Hulk fucked 20 women in 2 hours. One after the other, every woman roared in an earth shattering orgasm, begging him to stop. Then, in the end, he climaxed on all of them at once, in a cumblast that lasted a full minute. Needless to say, this porno flick proved very popular. The gay porn community have now asked him to film a gay-themed similar flick, with 20 men. Anyway, Black Hulk is here, a few feet away from me. Apparently, he decided to use the services of the same hotel I was in, during his stay in Las Vegas to undoubtedly conquer Mr. Olympia for a fourth time. My cock instantly grew rock hard in my swimtrunks; luckily I was in the pool, so nobody noticed. What also helped somewhat was the fact that every other person that, up till that point, were with me in the pool decided to pack their things and leave. Maybe they were disgusted by his muscles, or by his well-known overly sexualized lifestyle, who knows. Fact is, I was the only one to witness him casually removing his towel from his overly-muscular waist, revealing a swimsuit that was clearly struggling to contain the massive cock and balls inside it. Then he proceeded to jump in the pool, with a grace that beguiled his enormous frame. This was too good an opportunity to miss. I had to talk to him! But... I completely froze! "Hey man, nice traps" a heavily-accented voice said. It took me a while to realize that Black Hulk has just spoken, and, further, that he was referring to... me! "Uh... fuck. I mean... uh... thanks" I stammered. "I'm... I'm Kris... I'm... uh... sorry, I... big fan... I... I..." "No need to be shy around me, Kris" he grinned, his teeth's sparkling whiteness contrasting sharply with his dark black supermuscular body. "You must work out? I like your traps a lot." Black Hulk is complementing ME? Wow, this must be a dream. "Uh, thanks, uh, yes, I do..." That was all my brain could muster. "You've got a nice package down there too", he continued, grinning even wider. Instinctively, I turned beet red, and tried to cover my erect genitals. Damn, I must be so erect that he could notice from above the water. "You are indeed a big fan." he continued. "Am I responsible for some of your orgasms?" "ALL of them" I blurted out loud. "Since your first Mr. Olympia win, I haven't orgasmed to any human being except you." That was the brutally honest truth. "Good. I like sexy fans like you. You here to see me win another Olympia, right?" "Yes... yes I am. Nobody comes close to your hypermuscular body." "Indeed, nobody does." He climbed out of the water. "Come here. Feel my body. I don't bite." Suddenly, like a wild animal overcame with lust, I jumped out of the pool and started squeezing all of his bodyparts. Those traps, that seemed to go all the way level to his ears. That barrell neck, thicker than the circumference of his head. Those huge shoulders, so monumentally massive and defined. Those impossible biceps, that, even relaxed, seemed like somebody had stuffed a melon inside them. Those triceps, that protuded so far out of his arms that they almost looked like biceps. Those forearms, so incredibly thick, thicker than a normal man's legs. Those pectorals, incomprehensibly thick and full shelves of muscular power. Those abdominals, looking and feeling like eight slabs of diamond-hard bricks on his tapered down waist. Those lats, popping out so ridiculously wide of his back that they seemed like almost having a life of their own. That unbelievable back, so thick and defined and wide and massive. Those quads, impossibly muscular and immense, so massively muscled that I couldn't even hug one. Those calves, scarcely comprehensible slabs of meat, each bigger than my own pecs. Those glutes, protruding out of his hips even more than his monstrous back muscles. Every single bodypart of this incredible human specimen required your constant attention and worship. I found myself squeezing, feeling, massaging, sometimes even licking each and every one of his bodyparts. "Mmm, you really like my body, don't you Kris? This year, I weigh 440lbs, 4% bodyfat. That's another 20lbs more than last year's Mr. O." He moaned contentedly. I was slowly turning him on. "How do you do it, Black Hulk?" I asked him I licked one of his nipples, then continued "I mean, I'm proud of my 5'9, 190lbs body, but I have to work really hard to stay in shape. You look godlike all the time. I'm squeezing as hard as I can and it feels like squeezing a marble statue." "Man, you want my body so bad. Your lust for me is actually turning me on" moaned the superbodybuilder. "Let's go to my room. It's more private." He dried off, and re-wrapped his towel around his waist. Even like this, the towel was slightly tented... his cock was indeed half-hard. "You sure? I mean... yes, YES" I almost shouted. I hurriedly dried off and wrapped my own towel around my waist, concealing my own totally erect cock that had been straining my swimtrunks for the past half an hour. As we were leaving, a family entered the pool premises. The mother and the father were shocked by the dimensions of my idol, and they were relieved that we were leaving. Their son, who couldn't have been older than 7 years old, pointed at him and said "Look, Mommy, it's the Hulk!" We exited the pool amid the voices of the mother and father trying to explain to their kid that my idol wasn't the Hulk because his skin wasn't green. It took us around five minutes to reach his room at the twenty-first floor. During those five minutes, a million thoughts raced through my head. Are we going to have sex? Will this be just a worship session? Am I dreaming? Whatever it was, I thought how blessed I was to be with the man of my dreams, even if this was, indeed, a dream. We entered his room, and I closed the door. The room was huge, almost like an apartment. I was marveling at the beauty and size of the room, when I felt him hugging me from my back. Then he whispered, in that sexy accent of his, "Let me give you a pre-show." He allowed me to turn around. His cock and balls were now visibly straining his swimtrunks more than before. He started to practice his posing routine in front of me. Now I already described to you his incredibly huge muscles, how massively thick, huge, hard, and bulging they were. That was when he was relaxed. When flexing them, his muscles really came alive. When he did a crab pose, his already enormous and thick pecs inflated outwards like balloons, except that they were even harder than before. I found myself getting so hard that I had to take off my swimtrunks, because they were hurting. He slightly gasped when he saw my erect cock, probably because it was leaking precum. He did a back pose, copying Ronnie Coleman's signature pose, where he would spread his lats more and more, until he reaches their maximum spread. Except this man's back was infinitely thicker and infinitely wider, to the point where, in his final lat spread pose, his fists couldn't even reach his relatively small waist. I moaned slightly in response, as my precum was forming a small puddle below me. He then turned sideways, and here his absurd thickness was made clear. My eyes traced through his neck and traps, going outwards through his immense back muscles and monstrous pecs, to then narrow down to his waist and well-muscled abs, to then stretch out absurdly by his impossibly thick glutes and monumental quads. He started doing his signature pose, where he slowly flexed his right bicep, making it turn from a melon, to a bowling ball, to a watermelon. As my eyes bugged out, witnessing the incredible flexing of his bicep, I was absolutely sure that bicep couldn't grow any bigger, but then he grinned and effortlessly flexed it further, making it probably as big as a basketball. I lost it; I started to cum powerfully all over myself, at the sight of this incredible display of musculature, all without ever touching my dick. So powerful was my orgasm that most of my cum hit his forearm, bicep and right quad, even though I was a good two feet away from him. My cock was an erupting volcano that was being kept in check for far too long, resulting in a more massive eruption than usual. My orgasm took about seven seconds to complete. It was, easily, my most satisfying orgasm ever. "God, that's so hot" he murmured, as he scrambled to remove his own swimtrunk, which only succeeded in tearing it off his hulking body. His own cock was now rock hard. "I made you cum just by flexing my muscles... that's the hottest thing I've ever witnessed." he moaned. His cock was covering his navel and his midsection, probably around a foot long and as thick as my wrist... no, probably even thicker. His balls hung low, and looked as big as the rest of him. I came closer to him, rubbing my own cum along his quads, then my left hand cupped his balls. They must have easily been five times bigger than mine, maybe even six. My right hand managed to just encompass the huge girth of his erect cock. Then I started to stroke it, caress it, marveling at its incredible size. "Harder, Kris. Use your full strength with me! Do not hold back!" the massive superbodybuilder implored. "Yes, yes, certainly, I apologize, Black Hulk." "Do not apologize. I like you a lot, Kris. Nobody has ever turned me on as much as you have done today." I started to nibble on his left nipple, which was almost the size of a small penis, while I simultaneously pinched his right nipple and jerked his amazing cock with my hands. He moaned in delight. "Ohh yes, you're good at this" Black Hulk moaned. I'm GOOD at this? This is my very first sexual encounter with anyone, and fate wanted that my very first sex session was to be with the biggest, most muscular bodybuilder on the planet. "Please, don't stop" he continued. I rubbed my hands against his abs, with all my might, in the meantime licking and biting them. I tasted his savoury sweat and a bit of my own cum. His huge cock became even bigger, as it almost hit my head. "FUCK, that's it, I HAVE to fuck you," he roared. He lifted me up like I was a rag doll. He let me face his gigantic upper body while pointing his giant dickhead towards my ass. "Hold on, hold on, Black Hulk! Please... please... be gentle... this is my first time." I felt his massive dickhead penetrating me. Surprisingly, it didn't feel as uncomfortable as I thought. Using just a fraction of his hulk-like strength, he pushed inside me, using his own precum as lubricant, until most of his cock was in. "Relax," he whispered in my ear. "Let go of me, balance on my cock alone, feel how even my cock is super powerful." I did as he told me, and indeed, his cock managed to support my entire weight. I also felt some liquid squirting inside my ass. "Are you... cumming?" I asked him. "That's my precum, Kris. It squirts as far as most people's cumshots. It will help with keeping your insides nice and moist for my cock to slide easily." "Wow, you're amazing, Black Hulk!" I hadn't finished saying this completely... he grabbed my ass and pushed his cock partially out of my hole and pushed it back in, slowly. "Did that hurt?" he asked. "No, no." "Good. Enjoy the ride. Cling to wherever of my body you like!" I grabbed his giant pecs as he started fucking me, first slowly, then faster and faster. At some points, he was almost hitting my prostate. My dick went rock hard again, as I realized that I was completely at this monstrous hulk's mercy. Soon, he started to moan louder, and his body started to glisten with sweat. His glistening muscles flexed several times as he edged closer to orgasm. Then he hit my prostate, sending me into an instinctive orgasm, and... "Oh GOD, Kris, I'm CUMMING... OH... OOOHHHOOHHH... Fuck YEAH!" My butt was blasted repeatedly with this incredible man's cum, in an orgasm that must have taken a full minute. Then, slowly, it abated, and his breathing became more normal. "Ohh... phew, that felt really good Kris." He disengaged his cock off my ass. Surprisingly, none of his cum rolled out of my butthole, and I did not feel bloated or anything. "Uh... where did your cum go?" I asked him. "Is this normal?" "I honestly have no idea" he told me, concerned. Then it hit me. A massive spasm all over my abdomen. Then all over me. Then it went as quickly as it came. Perhaps it took two seconds, tops. "Fuck, what was that?" we asked, together. ---------------- Chapter 2: Mysterious Bodily Reactions We looked at each other, stunned. "Did... did it hurt?" the overly-muscular black bodybuilder asked, after a protruded silence. "No, no. It felt... weird, though. Like there was something inside me stretching my body parts. But now, I feel fine." "You sure?" the muscle monster mused. "Really, Henk, I do." It was the first time I called him by his real name. The hulking muscleman smiled faintly, in approval. "Look, today has been unbelievable getting to... know you better, Henk. You fulfilled my utmost dreams, and more. I'll never forget this day, ever. But now, I'm sure you need to prepare for tomorrow's prejudging and Saturday's contest." "Yes, I do, Kris. But I have an offer for you. Would you want to be backstage tomorrow and Sunday, with me?" "You're kidding? I'd really, REALLY love to! But, I'm not, uh, very well-acquainted with... being back-stage." "I just need you to apply oil on my body. You know, to make my muscles show more. I'm sure you'll do very well in that regard, after how you worshipped me earlier." The huge muscleman winked and grinned. "The rest, leave it up to me. You in?" Rubbing Black Hulk's giant muscles with oil? Who in their right mind would refuse such an offer? "Of COURSE I'm in! I'm just afraid that I'll be turned on all the time by your..." "Good. That's exactly what I want." Black Hulk grinned again. His grin is so hot, I thought: pure white teeth atop a sea of bulging black muscles. "What do you mean?" "You'll see tomorrow." I wanted to ask him why such a successful bodybuilder does not have a team of trainers, nutritionists, sponsors and spokespersons, but I decided not to raise this issue. Still, this IS a little weird. He seems to be all alone in this hotel, after all. The other Mr. Olympia contestants are probably answering questions in press conferences, whereas Black Hulk is in a hotel fucking a stranger... "Oh, and another thing. You're free to come to my room any time while you're staying in this hotel," continued the multiple Mr. O. winner. "Likewise, Henk. Listen, I'm starving. Shall we get something to eat?" "Yes, there's a buffet going on. It started while we were... swimming", the massive black bodybuilder winked. "Let me shower first. I still stink of your cum." He laughed. "Okay, I guess I'll go shower in my room and come back," I said. "No you won't," the immense muscle mountain quipped. He lifted me up with one arm. "You'll shower with me. Why waste water? Besides, you can lather my back much better than I can." "Oh, I can lather every INCH of you, not just your back" I moaned, getting horny again at the prospect of showering with the man of my dreams. He carried me to the shower, and opened the water. We lathered each other. He was right: his upper body was so wide that he couldn't ever lather himself at various places. I paid extra attention to each of his bodyparts, rubbing them with shower gel repeatedly. Even though I had orgasmed twice in the past half an hour, I found myself getting hopelessly horny again. He showed me his massive biceps again, flexing them for me, making them basketballs of power. "Fuck, man, those biceps, they make me rock hard every time. They're so FUCKING immense," I moaned. He placed my cock between his super thick left forearm and his giant left bicep, and flexed the bicep around my cock. Needless to say, this had a very quick effect: my cock blasted another copious amount of cum all over him. He smiled. "It's my turn now" I told him, as I recovered from my third orgasm in thirty five minutes. I grabbed his cock and gave him a good handjob. The cock rose to its barely-believable length and girth. Then I took his cockhead in my mouth; it was as big as a fucking apple. I sucked him as hard as I could, while simultaneously jerking it off with all my might and fondling his oversized balls. He started to moan louder and louder, until finally I was rewarded with a mighty roar, accompanied by a large stream of cum blasting out of his cock, hitting the sides of the shower with impressive force. His orgasm took about half a minute to abate, which was incredibly amazing, considering that only half an hour before he was spraying cum for an entire minute. We finally headed off the shower. I dried off and wrapped my towel around myself, when I noticed something. "Hey look, that's weird... I don't have any hair anymore! Like, no hair on my chest, my forearms, my legs, my armpits... I don't even have pubic hair!" I touched my head and face. My hair and stubble were still there, thankfully. "Hmm... that IS strange..." the black muscleman mused. "You're... you're kinda like me, now, with no hair below your neck at all." "That's different - you probably waxed it for the contest. Right?" "Uh, actually I didn't. I don't have any hair on my body. Below my head, that is. Maybe... that's what your spasms did to you earlier... still, why would your bodyhair disappear so quickly?" The overly-sized muscleman was deep in thought. "Don't worry about it. I'll get used to it. And, maybe it'll grow again. I'll pop out to my room to wear something. We'll meet near the elevator," I said. A few minutes later. I was next to the elevator, wearing shirt and trousers. I saw him coming, and was stunned again. He was wearing a white T-shirt with the words 'BLACK HULK' embroidered in black, and blue shorts. However, they were so tight on his bulging mountains of muscle that all of his muscle beneath the fabric could easily be traced, including not only his immense pecs, but also his abdominals and his nipples. His shorts expanded ridiculously around his superhuge quads and glutes, each overinflated muscle group threatening to rip it off at any moment. "Jesus, Henk, your clothes leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, don't they?" I murmured. "They don't. I had made these to order when I was 410lbs, a year and a half ago. Now that I'm 440lbs, they are juuuust a little bit tight," he teased. We entered the restaurant and took a plateful of the buffet food. People actually stopped and stared at the huge muscleman. Some murmured something to themselves, others turned to their friends and nudged them to take a look at Henk. I felt proud that I was next to him. Nobody in the whole world has an amorous partner as hot as mine. I was really starving, so I visited the buffet several times, like four or five times. The massive bodybuilder did likewise. I noticed that he was not much choosy with his food; he was eating carbs, protein, fibre, milk products... he was enjoying everything. That's weird, I thought: this guy is going to be in the world's biggest bodybuilding contest tomorrow, and he's not even trying to eat well for it. What I soon found weirder was how my appetite was not satiated, even after eating 7 platefuls of food. Even Henk said he was full after taking seven plates of delicious food. On the other hand, my stomach felt like I barely even started. "Man, you eat even more than I do... that's impressive," the black muscle mountain mused. "I'm surprising even myself... I usually just take three plates, tops, including dessert," I said. "What's happening to me? I'm still starving!" "I honestly have no idea... good thing we have this buffet going on... you can keep eating without paying extra!" Black Hulk said, glancing towards another table. Looking in the direction he was glancing at, there was a young woman sitting down, eyeing both of us, but especially staring at my idol. "You know her?" I whispered. "I don't think I do," confessed the huge bodybuilder. "She wants me badly, though, judging by how she's looking at me. I know that look. Bet her panties are soaking wet!" He laughed faintly at his own joke. "I'll go get another plate of food," I said. "Cool. I'm good. I'll wait for you." As I filled my plate for the eighth time, I actually felt a little bit jealous. But then I remembered that his superhuman musclegod is a well-known pornstar... it is to be expected that he's not into one stable sex partner. Just then, I noticed the top button of my shirt had popped off. That's strange... even my sleeves are filled more than before. It seems like my body is getting bigger. Well, of course it is... I must have eaten close to 8000 calories in the past hour or so. But, my waist was still as trim as ever... it's like the extra weight has gone to my... pecs and arms? I went back to my restaurant seat, noticing that, in the meantime, Black Hulk was in the company of the girl that was eyeing him earlier. "Uh, excuse me, I'll go to the bathroom quick," I quipped, then immediately raced to the bathroom close by. * * * Everyone gasped when he entered. He swaggered slowly to a restaurant seat, accompanied by a man who must have been in his mid-twenties. This was not odd, since we were in the restaurant buffet room, me and around six or seven strangers. What made everyone gasp was the sheer amount of muscular development the former man's body was presenting to our senses. To me, those muscles were instantly recognizable. They belonged to Henk Kuria, or, as everyone in the porn industry called him, Black Hulk. This guy was, in a word, freaky. I've always secretly loved professional bodybuilders. My female friends somehow always found them 'gross' or 'disgusting', and, in front of them, I agreed. But, secretly, I get wet whenever an overly muscular man flashes past my eyes. And Black Hulk wasn't just overly muscular. He was, like, twice as big as the biggest pros. This guy's muscles were astonishingly huge... really, there was no comparison. It was like his muscles had muscles of their own. And he was BLACK. I LOOOVE black men. They look so virile. His skin was really, really dark, too; he was one of the blackest men I had ever witnessed. That made him even hotter, in my books. I had searched for his name ever since I stumbled upon the first porno I watched that featured him. He fucked Lela Star senseless in that porn flick, and the poor girl with the comically enhanced butt just didn't know what hit her. She must have felt like she was being fucked by a bulldozer. And then, his orgasm, showering all over her body... his cumshot was easily that of 10 men combined. After that flick, Lela Star actually took a six month break from porn, citing 'personal issues'. But the stage was set. Black Hulk had stolen her limelight, and that light is still shining brightly. Indeed, he not only shot several other porn flicks, with men, women, or both at once, but he became even bigger, and his orgasms even longer and more powerful. Some people started to question how real his orgasms were, although most did not care. The porn industry made sure to mention that none of what they're filming was staged or faked. And, in most nights, I end up shoving a cucumber in my pussy, fucking myself furiously, wishing that cucumber was Black Hulk fucking me into oblivion as I watch him on my phone in my bed. Anyway, Black Hulk is here, a few feet away from me. For some reason, he happens to be in the same hotel I'm in. Maybe for a new porno shoot? Who knows. I was staring at him. He was wearing a white T-shirt, with the words 'BLACK' and 'HULK'. The word 'BLACK' was stretched all around the top of his enormous pectorals, while the word 'HULK' was below it, in the middle, with his two nipples on either side of the word. Fuck, his T-shirt was so tight that even his nipples were visible; that's insane. His pectorals must be much bigger than my own breasts. That's really saying something, as I wear a 34M cup size. I'm a chubby 5'7, 175lbs woman with a 48-32-40 figure. You either love or hate my body. Some guys find me disgustingly fat, while others just adore my voluptuous body. I've had a few one-night stands with men from the latter category, and they have honestly given me much-needed self-confidence about my body. This made me accept what God has given me, and now I flaunt what I have, rather than try to hide it. Which is what this incredible male specimen a few feet from me certainly does; that T-shirt he's wearing just makes him flaunt the godlike upper body he has. Fuck, he's even hotter up close than in the pornos. My juices were flowing. Just then, the guy he was with him stood up to take another plate. I decided to show slightly more cleavage, to see if the giant black bodybuilder noticed. He did, and smiled. I smiled back, then stood up and came next to him. "Hi, I'm Chloe, nice to meet you, Black Hulk." I extended my hand. He took it and kissed it. "Likewise, Chloe. I'm Henk. You've got a very naturally beautiful body, miss." He smiled. "Thank you. Nowhere near close to your magnificence, though," I said, my heart racing. He likes me. Helikesmehelikesmehelikesmehelikesmeeee... "You're a fan, Chloe?" asked the god, known to us mortals as Black Hulk. "Yes. Big fan of your, uh... movies. Big fan of your huge muscles. You're the best!" I enthused. "Thanks, dear. On holiday?" "No, business trip. I'm a journalist, working for the website CoolnHot.com. I'm assigned to write an article about the gambling and entertainment industry here in Vegas, by witnessing them first-hand. I return home tomorrow morning. You?" "I'm here to win the Mr. Olympia contest for the fourth time." I stared at him blankly. I never heard of a Mr. Olympia contest before. "What's that... a pornstar award?" I asked, innocently. Black Hulk laughed. "No, no. It's the biggest bodybuilding contest in the world. I've won it three times already. I'm here to win it for the fourth time. It starts tomorrow and ends Saturday." Just then, Black Hulk's friend returned, and told us he was going to the bathroom. He left the plate on the table and rushed away to the lavatory. "Who is he?" I asked, curious. "He's Kris. A REALLY good friend. He's responsible for making me look good during the contest while I'm backstage. Mostly by rubbing oil on my body." Wow, I'd love to do that, I thought. "You'd like to do that, don't you?" the massive muscleman asked, grinning. "Uh... yeah... admittedly, I'd love to." How did he know what I was thinking? Am I really that easy to read? "Then come to my room... I will let you do that, and more." He winked at me and smiled again, flashing those pure white, sparking teeth. "That's if you've finished eating, of course," he added. "No, no... I'm finished. But... what about your good friend... Kris?" "I'll just leave a note on the table that I had to leave suddenly. Come on, I'll pay for your meal." Just then, he stood up. "Oh, uh, you don't..." I stopped midway through speaking, as I witnessed his 6'4, 440lbs supermuscular frame towering over me. "I mean, uh, thanks," I corrected myself. The black god endowed with the most immense muscles I had ever seen went to the counter and paid for three meals. He then scribbled a note and left it on the table. I was actually impressed that his thick, muscular fingers could still hold a pen relatively easily. "Let's go, my room is in the twenty-first floor," Black Hulk cooed. People stared at us as they walked out of the restaurant and into the elevator. My panties were practically soaked now. I was worried that some wet spot would be visible down my dress, especially since there was another couple with us in the elevator. Their eyes bugged out when they saw the mountain of muscle that was with me. I felt proud of my catch tonight... I was sure this one-night stand will be my best one ever. We arrived at his room. I guess it was some kind of executive suite, because it was much larger and spacious than my room. I closed the door behind me, and immediately sneaked in his bathroom, removing all my clothes. I was never so wet and horny in my life. I tiptoed out, and, before he had even turned around from placing the door key on the desk, I rubbed his massive back, and whispered: "Ready when you are, Black Hulk." ---------------- Chapter 3: Chloe Sex and Muscle Growth He turned around, surprised at my directness. His deep brown eyes scanned my naked body from top to bottom. They approved of what they saw. "I'm always ready, Chloe. You have a very curvy, beautiful body. It reminds me of the beautiful women from my home country. Except your white skin, which I find very appealing," the muscular pornstar said. He put his well-muscled arms around my nude lower back, inviting me to draw myself even closer to his titanic body. I gladly accepted the invitation, and began to grind my entire body, especially my ample breasts, against his hulking, bulging muscles. My head could only reach his monstrous pectorals, so I cradled it between them. He moved his hands towards my round butt, and squeezed them. Being so close to him, I felt his cock starting to stir. "You like my ass, huh?" I cooed as I lifted his T-shirt, willing him to remove it. This exposed his fantastically muscled eight-pack abdominals. I started to squeeze them, but they felt like hard bricks. They were so thick that I could insert my entire index finger in the space between each of the brick-like abdominals. "Holy cow, you're a fucking muscle brick shit-house. Your muscles are even bigger than they look in your pornos," I continued, in absolute amazement. He said nothing; he only grinned at me. Then, his right hand moved towards his T-shirt. Tugging it from the bottom, he tore it off his ridiculously overdeveloped upper body like he had been tearing off toilet paper. His entire upper body was now exposed, and I almost fainted. From the position I was, I could see two enormous orbs of pectoral muscles, each as big as a gravel sack. I rubbed them slowly. They were dense, thick slabs of power; no wonder he could rip off this oversized, yet barely-fitting T-shirt so incredibly easily. The minimal effort he produced to tear off his T-shirt off his body made his arm visibly bounce... it looked as big as one of my buckets I use when I wash my apartment's floor. It was my turn to get speechless. I felt my vaginal fluids roll down the inside of my thighs - I was THAT turned on. My breathing grew heavier. He then gently lifted me up, so that my eyes were level with his. His grin was confident, cocky. He was definitely my first one-night stand that could lift me up so easily, as if my curvy, 175lbs body was as heavy as a book, to him. He lowered his head and sucked my right nipple, which I felt was as big as one of my lipstick bullets. Instinctively, I lowered my head back in ecstasy, as I felt his lips leave my right nipple to plant themselves on my left. I started moaning loudly, wishing him to ravage my pussy with that huge cock of his, that 10 inch monster I always fantasized would, one day, be sliding inside MY pussy instead of the pussy of some random plastic-surgery-filled pornstar. He placed me back on the floor. My eyes were transfixed on the ridiculous bulge between his massive thighs. He removed his shorts, freeing his massive cock from its confines. It immediately sprang upwards, hitting my abdomen in the process, then started to lengthen and thicken further. He had no pants beneath the shorts. Finally, the magnificent dick eased its growth. It pointed directly to my face; I imagined it telling me that, since I was responsible for waking it up, it was going to fuck me really hard. It looked bigger than 10 inches, and thicker than the cucumber I practise with when watching his porn flicks. My sexual arousal has never been this high. My mind was completely blown away by this god. I felt my juices trickle down my thigh and reaching my knees. "You told me 'ready when you are' earlier. Well, I'm definitely ready NOW," Black Hulk announced. He lifted me with one arm and placed me on his bed in a doggy position, with my ample butt facing him. I then waited for him to insert his giant black fuckstick inside my waiting pussy. I felt him do precisely that a moment later. His cock felt really hard and filled up my vaginal walls completely, but I was so well lubricated that there was no pain at all, just ecstasy. "Oh God, you're so big, you fill me up so much. Fuck me, fuck me HARD!" I shouted in delirium. He didn't need my compliance. I felt his hands grab my ass, then he started to fuck me senseless. Each push of his cock inside me felt like a mini-orgasm. I started shouting obscenities, strings of dirty vulgarities that my mind was stringing up there and then. I was nearing an earth-shattering orgasm, so my slurs were becoming more and more high-pitched. In response, he fucked me faster. That was it: my eyes rolled backwards and my mouth made an exaggerated 'OOOOOOOHHHHHH' shape as I climaxed powerfully, my vocal chords trying to keep up with the intensity of my orgasm. He slowed down, waiting for my orgasm to subside, then picked up the pace once again. I felt his cock throbbing even bigger inside me, probably triggered by my insane climax. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuckk, FFFUUUUUCCKKKKK OOOOOHOHOHHHHOHOHHH GODDDDDDDD FUUUUUUUUUUCK YEEAAAAAAAHHHHH!" I shouted as another orgasm hit my senses. He slowed down again, then restarted his relentless pussy drilling with that insane cock he has. I've seen him do it several times in his porn movies; how he'd fuck a girl repeatedly, sending her into countless orgasms, until she literally couldn't take any more, and then, and only then, he ejaculates. I used to think that a lot of editing was involved for that to truly happen. It turns out no editing was required; this man, or should I say, god, knew how to please a woman in a complete, entire way. "Fuck... fuck... Hulk... HULK... BLACK HULK... PLEASE... no more... oh god... you're so good... but please... no more... that's more than enough... fuck... so much cock..." I finally told him after my latest mind-blowing orgasm. I must have orgasmed eight, nine, ten times, I don't remember. He slowed down, then proceeded to slide his cock off my pussy. "No, Black Hulk, what are you doing? I want you to fill my pussy up with your seed." "You sure?" "Yes, I am. I'm on the pill, and I've had my period six days ago. It's safe. Please fill me up with your seed. I beg you. It would make me complete." Black Hulk obliged. He inserted his still rock hard, massive cock inside my vagina. He started to fuck me yet again, but this time, his technique was subtly different. This time, he was doing this to pleasure himself, not myself. Soon I heard him moan louder and louder. I figured he was getting close to orgasm, as his fucks became quicker and more powerful. Finally, I felt him insert his cock completely inside me, almost together with half of his balls, and he roared loudly. I felt my pussy being blasted by an incomprehensible amount of cum. His orgasm lingered on for what seemed like a full minute. During this time, his cock was spewing cum non-stop. I felt my belly actually expand a little bit as my internal organs tried to accommodate this insane amount of cum that was being introduced to them. Finally, his orgasm abated, and he sighed contently. My belly went back to its usual form, and he disengaged his gigantic organ off my vagina. I turned round slowly on the bed to face him. He was covered in sweat, which I found really hot. I opened my legs to allow some of his cum flow out of my vagina, but, surprisingly, none did. "Hey, what the hell? Where did all that cum go?" "I... I have no idea," Black Hulk said. He looked concerned. Then, I suddenly felt it. A massive spasm all over my abdomen. Then another one all over me. Then several spasms, one after the other, shaking my entire body. I continued spasming like this, for what seemed like an eternity. During all this time, I couldn't speak, nor move, nor do anything except spasming, although I was completely conscious. Then, finally, as I was expecting another spasm hitting me, it did not come. I waited and waited, but nothing happened. I must have spasmed for, like, an entire minute. Black Hulk looked at me, and uttered "Oh my god!" * * * I went back to my restaurant seat, noticing that, in the meantime, Black Hulk was in the company of the girl that was eyeing him earlier. "Uh, excuse me, I'll go to the bathroom quick," I quipped, then immediately raced to the bathroom close by. I looked in the mirror. My pecs were definitely bigger. I felt them, and confirmed my suspicion: they were not only bigger, but firmer, denser. Removing the remaining buttons of my shirt, my eyes analysed my abdominals. They looked more defined. My arms looked like they were tighter around my half-sleeve, too, and, although I wasn't feeling uncomfortable yet, my trousers looked tighter around my quads. I smiled. I redid the buttons of my shirt - well, all of them except the top one, which popped earlier - and went back to the restaurant. Strangely, my massive bodybuilding friend was nowhere to be seen. When I went back to our table, there was a note: "Something came up. I paid for your meal. See you tomorrow. BLACK HULK." Something came up, huh? He's probably fondling that bitch's huge boobs right now. Oh well, he's a pornstar, after all... I wolfed down the plate that I had filled up earlier, the one I had left on the table. I was still hungry. Like, REALLY hungry. I revisited the buffet table many other times. Each time, I devoured the food like I had not eaten for weeks. After five more plates, another button popped off my shirt. I decided to undo all the buttons at this point. People were leaving the restaurant, it was getting late. I continued to relentlessly gulp down plateful after plateful of food, amid occasional tears of fabric from my short sleeves or trousers. Finally, after eating about 30 plates of food, I was satiated. Mind you, it felt like I've just eaten a salad, but, at least, I wasn't hungry anymore. I stood up to leave, when the kitchen staff manager stopped me. "Sir, you have to pay." "Uh, my friend paid for my meal already." "Yes, he did," he explained, glancing at my upper body, partly concealed by my tattered shirt, then at my face again. "But, uh, you ate much, much more food than I had ever seen in my twelve years of being head of this restaurant. So we thought that, uh, you'd pay again? It would still be a bargain for you, you know." He sounded sheepish, which was something I never got from other people before. It was as if he was afraid talking to me. "Uh, sure, I understand. Here, I'll pay twice as much as the price bill. You deserve it, the food was delicious." My hands reached out for my wallet. In doing so, my right bicep involuntarily flexed, causing my right sleeve to rip completely. The restaurant manager gulped. "No, no, no... uh, you know what, we're fine. We're glad our service was to your satisfaction. We're good. You may leave." "Take this as a tip," I insisted, handing him seventy dollars. "And I'll be sure to recommend your restaurant to my friends." "Thank you, sir. Much appreciated." He took the money and hurried back to the kitchen, relieved. I proceeded to go back to my room. People stared at me as I walked. Part of my shirt and trousers were in tatters, so I thought that's why people were staring. I arrived at my room, removed my clothes, and looked at the bathroom mirror. The reflection depicted on the mirror shocked me. I looked like a professional bodybuilder. My muscles, even relaxed, were round and hard. Nowhere close in size as those of Black Hulk, but easily as big as those of the bodybuilders from the noughties era. I looked like Jay Cutler in his prime. No wonder people were staring at me, and no wonder that restaurant manager was stuttering. I started flexing, and my muscles responded beautifully. My biceps were particularly huge, perfect peaks of muscle flesh. My pectorals were thick and heavy. My abdominals were massive and well-defined. My quads were twice as big as before, and even my cock looked bigger. I felt it grow and harden as my eyes feasted on my own, hot, muscular body. I marveled at its size... easily two inches bigger than before, both in length and in circumference, and completely hairless - like the rest of me. My balls felt fuller and bigger, too. I then noticed a bathroom scale tucked away in the corner of the hotel room. I reached out for it, and stepped on it. My eyes couldn't believe it when the needle stopped at... 260lbs. My brain was trying to comprehend my new mass. Even if I assumed that the scales were not calibrated correctly, it still meant that I had somehow gained 70lbs of mass in a few hours. Even weirder, from what I saw in the mirror, all of this mass was added to my muscles and cock, and none of it went in my body as fat. "Wow," I finally gasped. "I look incredible." But, what caused this? My mind started to recall the earlier events of the day. Then I remembered. The spasms. The cum somehow magically disappearing inside me. Black Hulk! His cum must have done this to me. I didn't mind this at all, of course. In fact, I was grateful for this gift that he gave me. But, I had to go back to his room to have some answers. Problem was, I did not know what I was going to wear. Nothing fit me. I then decided to wear the swimpants I was wearing in the pool earlier. It was still wet, so I wrapped a towel round my waist. People won't ask too many questions, seeing me like this. It would look like I was going for a late pool dip. I arrived at his room. As I was going to knock on his door, I heard muffled voices speaking inside. One of them was of a lady, and she sounded upset about something. Then I heard Black Hulk's voice, seemingly trying to calm her down and reassure her. In the next few minutes, her voice took a different tone, and she seemed much more amiable. I heard them approach the door. "My clothes still fit me," I thought I heard the lady say. "I look really hot!" "You were hot before, too," I heard Black Hulk's voice say, "only now you're even hotter." "I'm ready. Let's go," she said. I decided to knock on the door, otherwise I'd be accused of overhearing their conversation. "It's me, Kris. Am I disturbing?" The door opened. Black Hulk was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, identical to those he wore with me at the restaurants, but, this time, the colours were inverted: the T-shirt was blue and the shorts were white. Then a lady appeared, who I recognized as the woman we met at the restaurant. She looked slightly different, but I couldn't put a finger into how. "Uh, hi Kris. This is Chloe. We were just... OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?" ---------------- Chapter 4: Chloe's Transformation "I grew." I flexed a bicep. With little effort, it became as big as a grapefruit. "I grew a LOT," I continued. "And I wanted to ask YOU, man, what happened to ME, because YOU caused this." "Don't waste time, sexy," the girl who Black Hulk introduced as Chloe mused, "I have already asked him how he did THIS to ME, but he claims he does not know." With that, she lifted her dress, and I gasped. Her breasts were still really big, but now her belly was gone. Instead of it, she had a flat stomach, with visible, but faint, abdominals. Her arms looked narrower and more toned, as did her legs. "He transformed me into a fitness model," she continued, "just by, uh, having sex with me. I started to spasm uncontrollably, and when that was over, my body fat had melted, except for the fat in my breasts and butt." Wow, I thought to myself. What the fuck? "Listen, I already told you that I don't know what's happening. It's the truth," the immensely musclebound, black musclegod said. "And you - and I -love your new look, anyway." "That's besides the point. I look too hot, now, to work in any normal job. Do you think I can continue to be a journalist with a body like this?" she said. "I told you already, you can be my spokesperson. And you agreed, didn't you?" Black Hulk replied. "Yes, I did. And I'm looking forward to it. It gives me an amazing opportunity to be close to you. Although," turning to me, "Your friend Kris here is HOTTT too. Wow, look at that body!" "Thanks, Chloe, but if you're trying to seduce me, it's not working. That's not how I swing. Sorry to disappoint," I smiled. Honestly, however, she did look incredible. Perhaps I could make an exception with her... "Pity," she uttered. Then she changed the subject. "I'm starving to death here. Let's go eat something. Isn't that why we were leaving?", she said, as she lowered her dress again. "Hold on a minute," I said. "What did you say? You're hungry?" "Awfully so. I feel like I haven't eaten for an entire month," she answered. "Well, the same thing happened to me. I don't know if this super muscle god," - referring to Black Hulk - "told you, but we had steamy hot sex earlier today." I stopped, reminiscing those incredible, orgasming moments. "Anyway, my body also spasmed a bit, though only for a couple of seconds. Also, all of my body hair disappeared. Then, I started feeling REALLY hungry. I've just finished eating, actually. More than thirty platefuls of buffet food. And I could eat more, if I wanted to... after all that food, I feel like I've eaten a salad. That is how I got all these muscles." "Wait, so... if I eat, I'll grow muscles?" she mused. "Probably. Judging from what happened to me, anyway." Turning to the massive bodybuilder, I said, "that's why I came to your room, Henk, to demand an explanation." "And I don't have any," Black Hulk said. "I'll repeat what I said to Chloe. I'm as puzzled by what happened to each of you as you are. Honest to God." "So, let me get this straight. If I eat, I'll become big and muscular?" Chloe repeated. "This fitness body is hot, and I can certainly live with it. But, me being huge and buff, like both of you... I don't know if I can handle that. But... I'm SOOOO hungry, dammit!" "Look, uh, maybe it doesn't work the same way for women as it does for men" said the black, musclebound god, to try to calm down the situation. "Come on, let's go. I know of a place close by that offers huge servings; if you eat it all, you get it for free. You need to eat first, Chloe, then worry about what you look like later." "So THAT's how you solve this problem, huh?" snapped the lady. "I eat first, then worry about how I look like later?" "Have you got a better idea?" the insanely muscular hulking man answered, quietly. Then he continued, "Look, if it helps, I did not want to be this big, either. But I did become this big, and I learned to embrace my body." "What do you mean?" I interjected. "You started going to the gym to get bigger, right?" Black Hulk paused. Both my pair of eyes and Chloe's were on his. For once, we were not looking at his outrageously muscular body stretching his T-shirt and shorts to their absolute limits. Then, he broke the silence. "Would you believe me if I told you that I never set foot in any gym in my entire life?" "WHAT???" me and Chloe shouted simultaneously. "Look, man, that's simply not possible," I continued. "Nobody grows a body as huge, dense, and bulging with muscles as the one you possess without lifting stuff. Then again..." I paused, then continued, "nobody grows 70lbs of muscle in a couple of hours, either. So many weird things happened today that what you've just said could also be true!" Black Hulk nodded. "Is that how much you grew?" asked Chloe, still shaken by the events that have unravelled in the past few hours. "Yes. That's how much I grew." I answered. "I weighed 190lbs this morning. Now I weigh 260lbs." "Wow... then I will REALLY become buff, if that happens to me as well," Chloe mused. "Say, I wonder how much I weigh right now." She stepped on the scales, which, unlike those in my room, were actually easily accessible in this one. "Wow, I only weigh 145lbs. I lost 30lbs!" "Really? Then maybe that's what the spasms were doing... they were melting away your fat," I suggested. "Maybe that's why I did not spasm as much as you did, too." She was probably going to retaliate my last suggestion that she was fatter than I was with a tirade of verbal abuse, but then she felt her tight stomach rumble. "Hey, can we continue discussing this later? I kinda need food URGENTLY." "Sure. You're coming with us, Kris?" Black Hulk asked me. "I'd love to, but nothing fits me. Can I lend some clothes?" I asked. "I could, but I'm 6'4 and I outweigh you by almost 200lbs. You're only, like 5'9." "I don't mind. I can still wear something." Black Hulk rummaged in his luggage. "Here, try these," he told me after extracting a yellow, full-sleeved, shirt and black shorts. "I was going to give them to a lucky fan next Sunday. They're from my first ever Mr. O. win, when I was 380lbs. Sorry, that's the smallest item of clothing I've got." I went to his bathroom, and tried them on. They were definitely too big for me, even though I was a veritable bodybuilding specimen myself. But there was nothing better to wear. I adjusted the sleeves to fit on my body as well as possible, and came out of the bathroom. "This will have to do. Let's go." We hurried to the restaurant, which turned out to be a pizza place. The decor contained a few pictures of past Mr. Olympias. In the middle, there was a picture of Black Hulk from last year's contest, triumphantly flexing his left arm, a barely comprehensible basketball of power, and clutching the trophy with his right. Some of the other clients greeted the arrival of the man, who seemed so revered in this restaurant. The owner greeted us, too, and shook Black Hulk's hand. "Good to see you, Paul," the musclegod said to the owner. "This is Kris, and she is Chloe." "Nice to meet you all. Hope you enjoy my food! Today I've got the Black Hulk pizza. We usually serve it to a group of 6 to 8 people. If somebody of you eats it alone, he... or she... gets it for free!" "I accept the challenge," said Chloe promptly. "My, my, lady, you have a huge appetite," smiled Paul the restaurant owner. "Mind you, if you lose the challenge, you'll have to pay for the pizza. It's worth $80, but, since you're a friend of Black Hulk, I'll give you a discount." "She won't lose," said Black Hulk the person, grinning. "Me and Kris here will split another Black Hulk pizza. What do you say, Kris?" "That's fine by me," I said. "I guess we can manage that." "Cool. Two Black Hulks then! One of my servers will be right back in a moment with your pizzas!" He hurried to the kitchen. "Look, Chloe, bill's on me, so don't stress if you lose the challenge," the supermuscular hulk told Chloe, softly. "But, I'm rooting for you!" "I WILL win the challenge! I've never been so hungry! I swear if I don't have food in front of me in fifteen minutes, then I'll eat both of you alive!" She laughed at her own joke. She looked happy, and raring to go. I smiled at her joke. I was happy too. Today's events made me happy. I was grateful for today. In the space of a few hours, Black Hulk turned from a distant idol to a close friend, who gave me an incredible gift; the gift of massive muscle size. Actually, he gave me another gift: the gift of friendship. I looked at him, at that body, and smiled. Shit, looking at his magnificent, supermuscular, bulging body never gets old. My cock stirred in my pants. The pizzas soon arrive. They were indeed HUGE. They couldn't fit together on our table, so one of the servers combined another table close by to ours. The server bringing the pizzas was a girl. She gave one to Chloe and split the other one. "I'm Amanda, your server" said the girl. "I'll be making sure that none of you boys will be helping the lady with her challenge. Especially you, Black Hulk. Pleased to meet you, by the way. You are even bigger than the pictures suggest." "That's what everyone tells me. Pleased to meet you too, Amanda. I'll be a good boy; I won't help Chloe here in any way!" Black Hulk answered, winking at the girl. The moment her pizza was served in front of her, Chloe began wolfing it down. It was a bit hilarious, in a way, seeing this 145lbs, 5'7 woman eating such a huge pizza. Not only was the pizza huge, but it was also topped with lots of ingredients: pepperoni, minced meat, artichoke hearts, tomato, peas, onion, green pepper, olives, and, of course, cheese. Me and my impossibly-muscular friend started to eat ours. The pizza was, indeed, delicious. Chloe was on a mission, eating a quarter of the pizza before we had even eaten our first slice. She didn't say anything, just ate and ate and ate. Amanda, for her part, had her eyes transfixed on Black Hulk. His upper body bounced and flexed involuntarily as he ate the pizza. She saw the bulging pecs and arms, and swallowed hard. She went in a dream-like state, as if she was thinking about a raunchy situation - indeed, her face turned slightly red. "Amanda, you should keep your focus on Chloe here, you know..." the monumental musclegod told her, grinning. "Uh, yes, sure, sure, I'm completely focused on what she's doing," the girl stammered. But she really wasn't, of course. She was mesmerized by Black Hulk, the supermuscular god of male bodybuilding perfection. Chloe was already on the sixth slice of the 16-slice pizza. She had already eaten more than two person's worth of food. By contrast, I was on my third slice, and Black Hulk was on his second. I watched, fascinated. It looked like her dress was slightly tighter around her bosom and shoulders. While eating her eighth slice, there was the sound of tearing fabric. Chloe seemed not to notice, and continued eating. Glancing at her, I noticed that her dress had ripped slightly from her back. She continued to eat and eat, amid more tearing sounds of her clothes. Black Hulk only ate two slices, then said he ate enough. I managed to eat six slices; not bad, considering I had eaten so much only an hour before. Now, however, I was really full. We could only stare at Chloe eating her pizza and, seemingly unbeknownst to her, growing out of her clothes. Meanwhile, the server girl, Amanda, was barely noticing what was happening to Chloe either. She was still apparently daydreaming about Black Hulk's gigantic slabs of muscle being proudly displaying through his overstretched clothing. She couldn't stop staring at him. I saw her grinding her feet together. Wow, Black Hulk's effect on some people is so strong. But, really, I understand Amanda's reaction to him; after all, I had a similar reaction to him, and probably so did Chloe. Chloe was now two slices away from eating an entire Black Hulk pizza. Her eating rate was steady; she never once took a break. I understood better than anyone how she was doing it, since I went through the same thing a few hours before. People were now approaching our table to witness this busty 5'7 woman manage the feat set by the pizza owner. I noticed her arms were now not just toned, but there were clear biceps, and even triceps, where none were before. She was much wider, too, which was part of the reason why her dress was ripping from her back. Finally, she did it. The last morsel of the pizza was consumed. Everyone cheered. Hearing these sudden cheers, Amanda snapped to her senses, and congratulated Chloe. Sensing that her job was done, she hurried back to help with the other tables. "That's amazing, Chloe. You ate a pizza made for 8 people!" I enthused. "I... I'm still hungry. Can I eat what's left of your pizza?" she meekly uttered. I gasped. "Uh... sure, sure. That's okay with you too, right, Henk?" "Yeah, go ahead. Better not let it go to waste. I'll go to the bathroom in the meantime," said the immensely muscular man after which the pizza was named. Just then, Amanda came out with a tray of drinks for some other table, and noticed the enormous bodybuilder walking to the bathroom. She quickly served the table, then hurried to meet Black Hulk before he entered the restroom. He somehow was not surprised by her; he looked like he was actually waiting for her to meet him there. She entered a staff-only room and invited the huge musclehulk in. After a while, I decided to investigate. "What's taking Black Hulk so long? I'll go see if everything is okay," I told Chloe. Of course, I knew what was happening. I went outside the door marked 'Staff Only', and immediately I could hear moaning and heavy breathing, and an 'oh my god, you're fucking huge!'. Yeah, as I suspected, the black musclegod was making out with the waitress. I went back to my seat. Chloe was almost finished with her pizza. "You okay, Chloe?" I asked her. "Yes, Kris. I'm starting to be full. After eating this last pizza slice, I should be satiated" she said, happily. "You know that you grew, right?" I asked her, softly. "Yes, I know. I actually liked it. How my body was making my dress small. How it couldn't contain it. It felt so good. In fact, I WANTED to grow muscles." I was taken aback by this confession. Just then, Black Hulk came back, looking sprightly as usual. Amanda was close behind him, slightly red-faced, but smiling widely. I went next to my massively muscled friend. "Hey, I know what you did back there," I whispered in his ear. "Yeah, she wanted to see me without my T-shirt. I obliged. Then she grinded her pussy against my right quad until she orgasmed loudly. That's it," Black Hulk whispered back. "After what happened to you two, I'm more careful now," he continued. "Okay, I'm satisfied now!" said Chloe suddenly, chewing the last morsel of our pizza. "Thank you, Black Hulk, for the free pizza, it was delicious!" "Sure, Chloe. I guess it's time for us to go back to the hotel, then. Let's pay and leave," Black Hulk said. He winked at Amanda. She came quickly. He gave her a hundred dollar bill. Paul the restaurant owner came by, to make sure we were satisfied by the food. After assuring him that we indeed were, we left. It was late, almost midnight. Chloe's dress was barely managing to hold her visibly wider frame. I still had a million questions to ask Black Hulk. How did all of this happen? Was it true that he never went to the gym? How did he get so huge, then? Was he somehow affected by someone's cum, the way his cum affected me and Chloe? As I was pondering these things, Chloe suddenly turned to me and said, "Hey, Kris, uh, you have already gone through what I'm going through. Would you mind if you sleep in my room tonight? My room has a double bed, because they couldn't find me a room with a single bed. I... I just want to make sure that nothing happens to me, you know?" "Uh, sure, sure Chloe," I answered. Then, referring to the black, tall, musclebound bodybuilder, I continued "Good night, Black Hulk. And thank you. Today was the best day of my life." "You're welcome, buddy. See you tomorrow at 8. We have breakfast together, okay? And see you too, Chloe. I'll extend your stay a couple more nights, from my own money." And we parted ways. Chloe and I entered her room. It was almost identical to mine, except it had a double bed, as she said. Almost immediately, she removed her dress, shamelessly in front of me, and went in front of the mirror. She gasped at her new, muscular body. Actually, so did I. I'm gay, but this woman was packing so much muscle that this was actually turning me on. Then came a huge surprise. She turned round, removed her bra and her panties, and cooed, in a really sexy voice, "You've feasted your eyes on MY body. Now let me feast my eyes on that sexy bod of yours, Kris." ---------------- Chapter 5: Kris and Chloe Make Out I was taken aback. "Uh, Chloe... you know I'm gay, right?" "Tell that to the bulge between your legs, honey," she replied, pointing to my crotch. "Besides, I only wanted to see your body, not to fuck me." "Fair's fair," I said. And, with that, I removed my oversized shirt, and my shorts. These clothes had made me forget how massively muscular I had become. "Jesus, Kris, you're fucking massive." Chloe's jaws dropped. "You look even bigger than before." "Yes, that could be the case, since I ate almost half a pizza, rememb..." "Oh, shut up. I don't care. All I care about is being in this sea of bulging, sexy, thick, hard muscle." With that, she started feeling my traps, my shoulders, my pectorals. On every bodypart she felt, she moaned appreciatively. "Shit, you're built like a brick shithouse. You're so hot. You're making me so fucking horny," she murmured. This was an absolute first for me. Usually, I'm the person who says these kind of things to another man. This role reversal was unexpected. However, I felt horny, too. Really horny. This woman was turning me on so bad. Her hands traversed my abdominals, a six pack of ripped musculature, then my butt, composed of incredible, striated glutes. I slowly removed my pants. I had to. She smiled. "For a gayboy, you're really turned on right now," she laughed. "Shut up." I admit, I was hurt by her comment. "Good, I hurt your pride. That's what a real man..." she started, but I stopped her. I shoved my half-hard cock in her mouth, and forced her to suck it. Even though she was considerably strong, she was no match for my much bigger strength. "Mmmmmphmphmmphmmphmmppphh!" she complained. The more she struggled, the more turned on I got. Her eyes bugged out as my cock expanded in her mouth. Suddenly I was apprehensive, and let her go. She lashed out at me. "What the FUCK, Kris?" "I... I'm sorry, Chloe. I don't know what hit me. I swear..." "Shut up, silly. I actually LIKED that. A lot. I like it when you're rough. Hey, I can take a beating!" she smiled, as she flexed her biceps, turning them into considerable mountains of female musculature. "In fact," she continued, as she went down on her knees, "let me show you how much I liked that." She took my now hard cock in her mouth, and started to suck it, while her hands tugged at it with all her might. "God, oh GOD, yes, that's good, baby... so, so GOOD. Fuck, you're so good," I was murmuring non-stop. She disengaged her mouth. I was rock hard. My cock felt really huge and thick. Bigger than ever. Probably because it was. "Let's get to bed, honey," she cooed. We did. The double-bed creaked as it took the mass of our considerably developed bodies. I put a finger in her pussy. It was soaking wet. Chloe moaned, and bit her lower lip. "Let me be on top," Chloe whispered. "Let me ride you. I know, this must be strange for you. Sorry about earlier, calling you a gayboy. You're an incredibly handsome man with unreal muscles. You turn me on so bad. I say silly things when I'm turned on. Let me make it up to you." She plunged her soaking wet vagina on my superhard cock. It felt great. My cock felt like it was being sucked by a thousand tiny mouths. So this is what a pussy feels like, huh? I thought. Hmm, that doesn't feel half-bad. In fact, it feels fantastic. Chloe started to ride me. Her ample breasts bounced with each of her thrusts. I was never enamoured with female breasts at all, but now, they suddenly looked really hot. In fact, Chloe looked fucking hot, from head to toe. And not because she was a muscle beast. She was hot because she was a really, really sexy human being, like Black Hulk is, only in a very different way. Her moans got quicker and higher-pitched, as she neared orgasm. Wow, I thought, a woman is going to orgasm because of me? That's so hot. I saw her eyes roll backwards, then her mouth let out a really loud moan. She was in orgasmic bliss. She orgasmed hard. Her body shook all over. Her orgasm was long. It took, like, more than half a minute. All the while, she was convulsing in sexual delirium, and moaning, almost shouting, in delight. Now I'm not obviously an expert in fucking females, but I thought that this wasn't normal. Seeing her climaxing for so long because of me turned me on SOOO much, though. I couldn't believe it. My body, my power, my muscles, must have done this to her. What happened to me? Why am I fucking a woman? Why am I enjoying it so much? Before a few hours ago, my sexual fantasies always involved being with a huge, muscular guy fucking me from behind. Well, I still find that fucking hot. But now, my fantasies are also including people worshipping my muscles and sucking my long, thick, hard cock, which then fucks them hard until they orgasm uncontrollably. Yes, I want to fuck this super sexy, hot woman HARD. "Oh fuck, that orgasm was so intense... your cock is so good! God, that orgasm continued to roll and roll, like a wave... I never felt anything like it!" she enthused, when her orgasm finally subsided. "Now it's my turn, sexy!" I told her. I sat up and grabbed her from her ample back, making her huge breasts squish against my upper body. She was very muscular, but I was stronger, and could easily lift her entire body in this way if I wanted to. Then I started to fuck her, pushing my cock inside her moist pussy. She appeared to like this; her eyes closed and her mouth went slightly wide. I continue fucking her, upping my pace little by little. Soon I felt my orgasm nearing, and I started moaning, first slowly, then more frequently. She sensed my climax was near. "Shoot inside me, honey, gimme your sperm!" I did. And how. "Oh, fuck, FUCKKKK, OHHHHH I'm CUMMINGGG! OHH YESS, OHHH, OHHHHH... it's still going... OOOHHHHOOHHHOHHH SHIIITTT! Ohh god, GOD here it COMESS AGAIN HOLY SHITTT... OHH FUCKK IT'S NOT STOPPINGG! OH MY GODDDD! OHHHH GOD YESS!" I came buckets. My orgasm must have taken way more than half a minute, perhaps even a full minute. It felt so intense, so amazing, so pleasurable, so powerful. That was, undoubtedly, my most satisfying orgasm of my entire life, easily topping my three powerful orgasms I had with Black Hulk a few hours ago. "Holy fuck, that felt REALLY good! I also felt it, the orgasm coming in waves of sexual pleasure." I was almost laughing with pleasure. Chloe was also grinning widely. She disengaged my cock off her pussy. A pool of my hot, white cum poured out of her vagina. "You know, Kris, I thought 'here we go again' when you cummed inside me. Your orgasm felt very similar to Black Hulk's, both in duration and in intensity. But no, your cum was not absorbed inside me, like his did. That's... that's a relief, I guess." "It is," I confirmed. "I never came so much in my life, though. Not even close. Black Hulk must have given us more than one gift. It's not normal for your orgasms to take that long, right?" "No, it's not. It left me completely satisfied, though. It felt better than 10 of my usual multi-orgasms." Then, she looked at my body, again. "God, you're so hot. Your muscles are so thick, so bulging with power. You fucked me there like I weighed nothing to you. Even though I feel very strong myself, and weigh considerably more than an average woman." With that, she climbed out of the bed, and lifted the end of the bed, with myself on it, supporting the bed on only its two front legs. "Wow, girl. You ARE strong. I'm sure many men are incapable of doing that," I enthused. Chloe placed the bed back in its original position. "You know, that surprised even myself," she admitted. "Is there a scale here? I want to find my weight." "If this room is like mine, there should be one stowed away behind the corner of the room, near the door," I said. "Ah yes, there it is. Here goes nothing." She stepped on the scales. "180lbs. Wow, I gained 35lbs. Probably more, since this is my naked weight. Holy shit." "You know, Chloe, your body is not biologically possible," I suddenly said. "What do you mean?" "Your breasts are beautiful and large. So is your butt. On the other hand," I continued, "the rest of your body is completely devoid of fat. This is clear from how apparent are your muscles. Now, that's impossible, because, when females gain or lose fat..." "... they gain or lose it in their breasts, first," Chloe continued. "Precisely. In fact, many female bodybuilders look like men for exactly this reason. To make their muscles visible, they need to lose fat, and they end up literally without breasts. That's why some of them resort to plastic surgery to augment their breasts back. But you... your breasts are enormous, and are mostly fat, and your hips are still very female-like. That's... biologically impossible." "Another gift from Black Hulk?" "Probably. Man, I have so many questions to ask him tomorrow." I then climbed on the scales myself. "Hmm... 270lbs. I gained 10lbs from the pizza restaurant." "You know, I think I'm ready for another round of powerful sex," teased Chloe, as she rubbed my back, feeling its rippling, muscular power. And we spent the rest of the night fucking, fucking and then fucking some more. * * * My phone woke me up. It was 7:30am. Yesterday was a great day. I met two incredibly beautiful persons. I fucked them hard. The sex felt incredible, way better than the sex I perform in my porn movies. They grew after I fucked them. That's weird; that never happened with any of the porn actors. Maybe because I never orgasm inside porn actors - that's strictly prohibited in my contract. Let's hope they don't ask too many questions about that. I stretched my monstrous, black arms and climbed out of the bed. I hope Chloe and Kris wake up in time. You see, I asked the receptionist to extend Chloe's stay for two more nights before I slept yesterday, from my own money. The receptionist rejected the offer, because her room was already booked for today by somebody else. However, he arranged that Chloe switch to my room, so that it becomes a two-person room from a one-person room. I accepted this change - after all, it's cheaper too. So, after asking the receptionist for her room number, I went to tell her the news. However, I heard moans of sexual pleasure when I arrived at her door. She was probably having sex with Kris. So I decided to tell her the news when we meet for breakfast tomorrow. Suddenly, my cellphone rang. "Hello?" "Hi, is this Mr. Henk Kuria?" "Yes, speaking." "Good morning, Mr. Kuria. I'm Tony Halep from the IFBB. You have been chosen for a random doping test ahead of your participation in the Mr. Olympia contest this weekend." "Uh, okay, and what does that... entail, exactly?" I asked. "We'll need you to provide a urine sample by noon today." Shit. That's bad news. Like, really, really terrible news. "Hello? Mr. Kuria? Are you still there?" "Yes, yes, uh, Mr. ... Halep." "We can collect the sample from backstage, don't worry. The prejudging starts at 7pm, as you know, but I'm sure you were going to be here earlier... unless you do a no-show like you did yesterday for the press conference." "Uh, yes, Mr. Halep... I'll be there... at noon," I stammered. "Good. See you then, Mr. Kuria." "Uh, see you." And the line went dead. "Shit, I'm in trouble. Better wake up the others." I said to myself. I dressed quickly, feeling my monstrous, black, hyper muscles stretch the T-shirt and shorts to their limits. I paused... shit, the clothes hugging my huge muscles always feels so good. Then I hurried to Chloe's room, and knocked on her door. "Chloe, Kris, wake up. It's me, Henk." No response. I knocked harder. "Chloe! Kris! It's 8 in the morning. We need to have breakfast together, remember?" Still no response. "Come on, Kris! Chloe! Anyone! Wake up!" as I banged on the door, hoping for someone to wake up. Well, I must have hit on the door a bit too powerfully, because it suddenly gave way, and it fell into their room with a loud bang! The sound was deafening, but, strangely, whoever was inside did not budge. I decided to enter. "Kris? Chloe?" But there was no one there. Then I looked at the door, flat on the ground. There was a number written on it: 427. "Shit, I'm on the wrong floor, I should be on the fifth!" And, with that, I ran the stairs to the fifth floor, and double-checked that I was in front of the right room. 527. Good. I knocked on the door. "Chloe! Kris! Wake up! It's me, Henk." No response. "Come on, Kris, Chloe, please." Then I heard Chloe. "Uuuhhhh... can't we sleep a little more... we're tired." "It's 8 in the morning. Come on. We need to have breakfast soon." The door opened. Chloe was still naked. Her body was perfectly muscular and curvy. She was, simply, a goddess. I never saw another woman as muscular as her, not even among the female pros. At the same time, her figure was sexier than any female pornstar I fucked. She was stunningly hot and massively muscular at the same time. I entered, and closed the door quickly. A massive stink greeted me... the stink of dry cum. "Fuck... did you... holy shit, you both stink of cum." "We do. But we're gonna shower quickly," said Kris, as he woke up. He, too, was naked. He looked gloriously handsome and muscular. Certainly the second biggest muscleman in the world, second only to me. His cock rivalled mine in terms of size. "Good to see you, Black Hulk." "Wow, Kris. And I swore you were gay." "I was. But have you seen Chloe? I mean, holy shit. She's, like, perfection incarnate." "She is. And, so are you, you know." I said. "All thanks to you, man. You still haven't told us how you did it." "I'll tell you today. But first, can you shower quickly? And no more sex, for now, please. Although, admittedly, you do look like a sex god and a sex goddess." "Yeah, let's shower. But we need to buy some clothes that fit us," said Chloe, as she entered the shower. Kris followed her, and they showered and rubbed each other's bodies with soap. This, of course, turned them on considerably. They started to touch each other's sexual organs. But then they decided enough was enough for that day. They turned off the shower and stepped outside, drying in the towels. "Guys, I have a problem." I confessed. "Long story short, I need to provide a urine sample by noon." "Yeah, so? We have ample time to have breakfast, go shopping for clothes, and then go to the contest by noon," said Kris while drying off his huge muscles. "You don't understand... I cannot give a urine sample!" I told them. "Uh... why not? You didn't take... drugs, didn't you?" Chloe said, as she dried her ample breasts. "So THAT's what you didn't want to tell us, huh?" "No, no, of course I didn't," I said. "You took a diuretic this morning. Right? Is that it? Honestly, these diuretics rules are bullshit," Kris mused. "It's not that, either." "Then, what is it?" they asked, together. "Because... because I haven't urinated for the past three and a half years." ---------------- Chapter 6: The Origin of Black Hulk (Three and a half years ago.) I met Chitundu a few weeks ago. He was tall and handsome, with a nice, ripped body. I was actually slightly taller, at 6'4, but I was skinny, and weighed only 155lbs. But he liked me. We were a gay couple, in a country, Kenya, where being gay is punished harshly. I've heard of a friend going to 10 years imprisonment because they caught him having sex with another man. Another gay couple were beaten to death. Indeed, that gay couple was us. We were enjoying ourselves, in a barn. After rubbing each other's bodies and turning each other on, Chitundu penetrated my ass. It felt great, being fucked by my soulmate. But then, suddenly, the barn door burst open, and four men, armed with sticks and tree branches, started beating us left right and centre. They insulted us, calling us things like 'filthy pigs', 'homos', and 'nasty animals' as we succumbed to their beatings. Soon, I lost consciousness. When I came to, I was still in the barn, covered in blood. I tried to move, but it ached horribly. They must have broken a few of my bones. I tried to see if Chitundu was there with me. Somehow, I managed to spot him. He was motionless. "Chitundu! Chitundu!" I called him, weakly. But he didn't respond. "Help! Help us! Please! We were assaulted! Help!" I tried shouting, but my voice was feeble. I was trying hard to stay conscious, but I drifted away again. When I woke up, I found myself on a bed, in a make-shift clinic. I was alone. Somebody must have found us, and took us to some kind of hospital. I had bandages all over. "Hello? Hello?" I called. Soon, a white man dressed in white overalls came in. "Oh, you're up, thank God," he said, in an American accent. "What's your name?" "Henk. I'm Henk." I answered. "Do you have family?" "No, I don't. My parents were both from Kenya, although my Dad had Dutch ancestors. My family died in the polio plague, though, a few years ago. I live with Chitundu, the other guy. Who are you?" "You're in very bad shape," he said, ignoring my question. "You've got a broken arm, a broken leg, and at least three broken ribs. You also have countless bruises and cuts, some of which are infected, and others starting to get infected. Unfortunately, I don't have the necessary tools and equipment here to mend you adequately." "Where am I? Where's Chitundu? And who are you?" I asked him. "That's not important right now. What's important is that you're safe here, for the time being. I'll soon try an experimental cure on you. It's the only way you can heal completely, but it's never been tested on anyone." "Wait, I don't want an experimental cure!" I cried. "It's either this, or you die by the end of the week," the white guy in white overalls said firmly. "Okay, okay then. Please, I don't want to die. I've only just turned 20." "If you believe in my methods, you won't die, Henk. Trust me," the white man said, smiling faintly. "Now, I'll soon administer a rectal suppository." "What's that?" "It's medicine that is administered through your rectum... your... butthole," the mysterious white man said. "This is very modern, cutting-edge technology. I travelled from America to Kenya because my studies show that Kenyans' DNA should accept this medicine better than the DNA of any other person coming from a different country." He paused, then told me, "I need you to help me turn you over." With a lot of pain and suffering, I managed to do a quarter-turn. "That's enough. Thank you, Henk," as he produced a bullet-sized device. He quickly literally shoved it in my butt. My butt muscles accepted the device, and it was inside me. Suddenly, I started spasming uncontrollably. Each spasm was really painful, due to my broken ribs. I started shouting frantically in pain. But, after a while, the pain started to subside. Eventually, after about ten minutes of spasming, the pain had disappeared completely, and the spasms soon stopped. "How do you feel now, Henk?" the white man asked. I turned around to face him. "Much better. The pain is gone completely. In fact, I think I've never felt better." "Good, Henk, I'm glad. The experimental medicine was a success. It should have mended all your broken bones, and healed you completely." I started touching my arm, my leg, my torso. No pain at all. "Wow, it must have! It just works... just like that?" "Yes, just like that. That's the miracle of science," he said, smiling. "I'll need to keep you here for some more tests, but the initial impressions look very encouraging." I suddenly remembered my friend. "Where's Chitundu?" I asked again. The man in the white overalls sighed. "I'm sorry, Henk. He's... gone." I started crying. I lost the only acquaintance I had. "I'm really sorry," the white man tried to console me. "I couldn't do anything for him. He was already dead when I found both of you." Then I felt it. A big stomach rumble. I clutched my stomach. "Do you have something to eat... uh... Doctor?" I asked, amid tears still rolling down my eyes. "I'm hungry." "Sure. In fact, I have something better," the man in the white overalls said. "I predicted that you should feel really hungry after the medicine has performed its... uhm... magic. So I'm going to give you food through a pipe from your nose to your stomach. I'll be monitoring you, don't worry." The man motioned to a large tank, which, apparently, contained food in liquid form, and drew a thin pipe out of it. I winced slightly as the pipe got through my nose, but it wasn't that bad. The man in the white overalls switched on the tank, and that was that. "I'll be in the next room. Please, for your own safety and well-being, do not leave the room. Even more importantly, under no circumstances should you remove the pipe from your nose," the mysterious man said. "Thanks, doc, for saving my life," I told him. He smiled faintly, and left. I tried to be motionless, but soon I was getting bored. Even though I was still naked, I was, at least, covered by a white bedsheet. I started feeling a bit awkward in certain positions, so I tried to shift my body to be more comfortable. After a little while longer, I was feeling... more built? My arms were not twigs anymore, but were getting a bit more manly. My pectorals weren't practically non-existent anymore, but were filling up nicely. My stomach, which was a washboard, was now getting slight hints of abdominal muscle. I was growing muscle, at a steady pace. This wasn't stopping, either. I was getting bigger and bigger. I shifted my legs a bit further away, because they were thicker and were hitting my balls. This felt really good. My arms were now quite thick, and my biceps were now much more prominent. My pectorals were big and strong. At this point, I thought I was as big as Chitundu. But my growth did not stop. Even my bedsheets now took a different shape, due to my bulging muscles beneath them. "This feels so good," I said to myself. I felt my cock getting bigger. I was getting turned on. I started to slowly stroke it, under the bedsheets. I was surprised how huge it felt. I moaned softly to myself, as my strokes became faster. All the while, my muscles were still getting bigger and bigger; I was as big as a fitness trainer now. "God, I'm gonna cum!" I murmured to myself, so turned on by my own expanding body. And cum I did. An orgasm that soaked up my bedsheets completely, that lasted at least half a minute. I must have been moaning really loudly, because, mid-way through my orgasm, the man in the white labcoat returned, alarmed. "Oh, my, you're masturbating!" he said. "That's a relief... I thought you were moaning in pain. Oh my, that's an astonishing amount of semen... I've never seen anything like that in my life. Wow." The white man's jaw dropped. Then, when my climax had finished, he said, "Let me change your bedsheets." I had, indeed, finally done blasting cum, but I was still growing muscles. I sat up on the bedside, naked, with my increasingly muscular body now plainly visible. The man in white was shocked. "What is happening here? This is an unexpected side-effect," he said, more to himself than to myself. He hurried to change my bedsheets, and I covered myself again. "Sorry I masturbated. But, my growing muscles... feel so good," I said. "Tell me, Henk, are you still hungry?" the white man asked me. "Yes. Still hungry." "Okay. Try not to masturbate until the machine finishes its job, okay?" "Okay, doc," I sheepishly said. "By the way, my name is James, and I'm actually a molecular biologist." And, he left. I was getting turned on again. But, I resisted the urge of touching my dick. My muscles were still getting bigger. My biceps now looked as big as volleyballs. Touching them, they felt amazingly powerful and hard. My pecs were like two sacks of gravel. It was like somebody was pumping them up, inflating them like balloons. Except they were hard as diamonds, not soft and squishy. My abdominals were like six... no, eight, perfectly-placed, hard bricks. My thighs were like monstrous barrels. I was wider, too, to the point that my shoulders and biceps couldn't fit under the bedsheet anymore. Finally, my hunger was abating. James, the molecular biologist, or so he claimed to be, returned. "Hello, Henk. Everything alright?" "More than alright. I feel like a god," I truthfully answered. He switched off the machine, and removed the pipe off my nose. Almost all the liquid food inside the machine was gone. I had somehow absorbed all of that food inside me, during the past hour or so. "That's it, then. Good as new. Literally," James said. "I wish I'd keep you a little more while I do a few tests on you, to see exactly what caused this... muscular side-effect, and if other side-effects manifest themselves in due time." "Sure. I don't have anywhere to go now. Might as well stay here. And I don't have any clothes, either, so it's useless to leave," I said, matter-of-factly. James not only did a few tests on me, but treated me like a son. He bought me clothes and brought me meals. Another side-effect he noticed was that I never urinated or defecated anymore. It seemed like any food and drink intake was being completely used to sustain my body, to grow bigger muscles and to produce sperm - a lot of sperm, for that matter. He also noticed that I did not have a single hair below my neck. Looking at my skin under a microscope, he noticed that I had no hair follicles at all, from my neck downwards. His medicine must be completely focused on improving my body all the time, and it had no reasons to produce by-products like body hair and feces, he theorized. Once he was finished with his experiments, he proposed that I fly to America with him. Since I had no family in Kenya, I gladly accepted. My passport and visa took a little while to be issued, but, finally, me and James were in America. I started working in construction. My workmates were astonished by my strength and muscles. I could lift stuff with one arm that required the strength of two men. One of my workmates, Steve, was gay. He once literally threw himself on my body while I was showering. I fucked him and came all over his body. That was the first time I was the one doing the fucking, rather than being on the receiving end of a fuck. It felt so good. Steve loved it, too; he told me he was never so turned on in his life. This 'love affair' continued for a little while. After earning a bit of money, I could afford living in an apartment alone. It was hard leaving James, after what he has done to me. James understood, but asked to keep in touch. I agreed. People stared at me wherever I went. Once, a lady stopped me while walking outside my apartment, and asked me where I worked out. I told her that I didn't. "Jesus, you've got crazy genetics, honey. You should become a pro bodybuilder!" she suggested. "Bodybuilder? What's that?" I asked, curiously. The lady was surprised. Then she told me, "Google it, honey. You'll know." A minute later, she was inside my apartment, and I was fucking her senseless. She orgasmed several times, and I erupted my dick's contents all over her naked, curvy body. It was at this point that I realized that I was not necessarily gay, but that women turned me on, too. Especially women who literally drooled over my incredible, mountainous, enormously muscular black body. I did follow her suggestion. Pictures of men and women with huge muscles emerged off Google. But none had muscles bigger than mine. I dwarfed even the biggest, most muscular bodybuilder. I learnt that there were contests for bodybuilders. The most prestigious one was called 'Mr. Olympia'. I decided to take part. The IFBB were shocked by my size, so they decided to throw me in as a wildcard. Guess what: I won the contest, beating 9-time Mr. Olympia Phil Heath comprehensively, coming literally from nowhere. People started calling me 'Black Hulk', and it stuck. I became an overnight sensation. I did magazine photo shoots, interviews, documentaries... the list goes on and on. I even starred in a movie cameo. People couldn't get enough of my size. They couldn't believe that I was a 6'4, 380lbs supermuscular man with only 4% bodyfat. Men and women, young and old; everyone wanted to know about me, or drool over my hypermuscular body, or both. The photo shoots exposed something else about me: my dick, apparently, was much bigger than average. This prompted some porn houses to call me, asking if I would consider being a pornstar. I told them I'd do it, for the right price. And so my first porn movie was born, where I fucked this woman with an outrageously big, but fake, ass, called Lela Star. The camerapersons were astonished at my stamina, and how my cock stayed hard throughout the whole shoot, without me needing to take breaks or taking substances to keep my penis hard. Lela Star later confessed with me that it was the first time that she orgasmed for real, on set. I took that as a big compliment. Two hours after the porn flick shoot, I was fucking her again, in her house. My sexual stamina was insatiable; I could perform amazing sex after only half an hour of having my cum erupting from my huge dick. After the success of my first porn movie, more and more porn producers asked for my services, including gay companies. I accepted the gay porn acts too, automatically revealing to the world that I was bisexual. The IFBB called me after this, telling me that my bisexual lifestyle was 'damaging their reputation'. I told them, with contempt and disgust, that, apparently, the fact that Mr. Olympia is a pornstar does not damage the IFBB's reputation, but the fact that Mr. Olympia fucks other men does. Year after year, I continued to grow bigger muscles, albeit at a slower pace. On average, I was gaining 20lbs of muscle every year. And in 2023, as a 6'4, 440lbs ultramuscular bodybuilder, I walked in this hotel to participate in my fourth Mr. Olympia contest. * * * I ended up withdrawing from the contest, and resigning from the IFBB as a professional bodybuilder with immediate effect. That was the first thing that Chloe had to do as my spokesperson: announcing that I was not going to produce a urine sample and withdrawing from the contest, citing lack of transparency in doping tests. As a former journalist, she knew what kind of questions journalists ask, and she handled the press brilliantly. I was enormously proud of her. Although maybe, some of the journalists could have also been a little intimidated by this muscular spokeswoman... An uproar ensued, with people furious about having bought tickets for the Mr. O. to see me in action, only to see me announce my withdrawal. Most of them blamed the IFBB for their hypocritical way in which they do doping tests. In order to calm down the situation, I suggested that I could do a free posing routine after all the contestants do theirs, a routine which did not have anything to do with the contest; it was just a bit of entertainment for the public. The IFBB liked this idea, and, after negotiating the right price, I agreed to do it. I got Kris with me, backstage, of course, to 'rub oil' on my massive, bulging, huge muscles. Kris wasn't out of place among these contestants at all; he was easily as big as the biggest Mr. O. contestant there. Mamdouh Elssbiay, who most people called 'Big Ramy', came over and expressed sadness at what happened to me. He also congratulated Kris on his physique. I sincerely wished him all the best during the contest. "You know," he told me, "thanks to your withdrawal, I'm really in with a shot this year. But I'm not sure if I'll win it next year, if Kris here decides to participate." Long story short, Big Ramy did end up winning that Mr. Olympia contest for the first time. In so doing, the Mr. Olympia trophy was transferred from an African man to another African. But the plaudits went for me. The audience erupted in applause when I set foot on stage, and shouted 'Black Hulk, Black Hulk' repeatedly in support. Chloe suggested to wear my posing pants a little lower than usual, to reveal juuuuust a little cock, to spite the IFBB. After all, I was doing this just for fun, not to compete. The audience loved it. I wowed them with my physique as much as I could. As I was leaving the stage, the audience erupted and wanted more. I got back to the stage and did my customary bicep pose where my bicep inflates bigger and bigger and BIGGER. Some of the audience audibly gasped at the impossible size of my flexed bicep. Then I left the stage, this time for good. When I returned to the hotel, I was informed that the security cameras on the fourth floor detected a person of my size ripping off the door of room number 427... ---------------- Epilogue It's been four years since that Mr. Olympia contest; since Kris and Chloe received 'the gift', as we started calling it. I grew even bigger since then. Still at 6'4, I now weigh 500lbs of solid, massive, freaky, black muscle beef. I settled down with Chloe and Kris, and we three live together in my apartment. They are both incredible human specimens in their own right, not just physically, but also emotionally and, why not, sexually too. So I thought, why not? My job is now full time as a porn actor, sometimes even shooting 'amateur' footage with Kris, Chloe, or both. Life is good. Kris is now a superhuman god of muscle development. Incredibly, even though he's only 5'9, which is more than half a foot less than I'm tall, he weighs a scale-crushing 510lbs of incomprehensible slabs of immense muscle - 10lbs MORE than I do. His secret? Well, he still eats well and goes to the gym regularly - unlike me. His muscle development is really insane. The Internet calls him 'Blond Hulk', and I find it quite appropriate. Due to how much shorter Blond Hulk is than I am, his muscles appear much, much bigger than mine. Of course, sex with him is as insanely hot as his muscles, if not more. Recently, he fucked me, rather than vice-versa, and then I fucked him back. It's good to finally have someone with the necessary muscle to fuck Black Hulk; I kinda missed the feeling of being fucked from behind. Kris never competed as a professional bodybuilder, partly because the IFBB dissolved itself a year ago. More on that later. Chloe is also an incredible muscle specimen. She now weighs 225lbs, which, on her 5'7 frame, is really quite a sight to behold. Her muscles are really dense - probably denser than mine or Kris'. She's still got two magnificent orbs of breastflesh jutting out of her pecs, and her biologically impossible hourglass figure is still definitely eye-turning. She's still my spokesperson - now for my porn endeavours, though. People call her 'Curvy She-Hulk' online... I kinda like it! Of course, our lives does not revolve solely into having just us three as sex partners, fucking each other. Part of why we're in this porn business is our extremely sexual lifestyle. We cannot do otherwise; 'the gift' forces us to have frequent sex, or, at the very least, masturbate often. When Kris, Chloe or I go out to eat alone, or go to buy some new clothes, or whatever, it's not unusual that one of us picks some hot guy or girl and give him or her a bit of sexual bliss. If we really like the person, Kris or I ensure that we orgasm inside their pussy, or butthole, thus giving that person 'the gift', slowly turning them into a veritable god or goddess - just like I did to Kris and Chloe four years ago. Interestingly, we recently discovered that Chloe can also give 'the gift' to her sexual partners. It turns out that her ample breasts ooze out a liquid when she's sexually excited, which, when drunk by a person in the right amounts, gives 'the gift' to that person. This allows Chloe, like us, to give 'the gift' to both sexes. We three are, of course, all bisexual. Indeed, that's one other side-effect of 'the gift', we learned - it turns that person bisexual, no matter what sexual orientation he or she leaned to prior to receiving 'it'. Slowly, 'the gift' started to become more widespread. People receiving 'the gift' - which we started calling 'gifters' - of course, fucked other people, due to their heightened sexual desires, spreading 'the gift' like wildfire. Many people, males and females, started becoming hugely muscular humans literally overnight. The professional bodybuilders training night and day in the gym simply couldn't compete anymore. This prompted the IFBB to dissolve bodybuilding as a sport for good. Moreover, the ideal female body perceived by the world at large slowly started shifting to the one that Chloe, and all female 'gifters', possessed. And James? We did decide to meet James, to ask him to study the process of how 'the gift' works. While doing so, James became totally obsessed with Chloe's incredible beauty, and - long story short - he received 'the gift' himself from her. One aspect of 'the gift' that was puzzling James was pregnancy - or lack of. The amount of semen produced by male 'gifters' was about 10 times as much as normal males did, and female 'gifters' had the perfect, ideal vaginal shape to accommodate these males. Moreover, the sperm count of male 'gifters' was astonishingly high, at around 800 to 1000 million sperms per millilitre, with close to 100% rapid progressive sperm motility. Female 'gifters', on the other hand, ovulated more frequently than non-'gifters', and did not have periods. In spite of all this, it seemed like male 'gifters' were incapable of impregnating female 'gifters' at all. After studying this anomaly for long, James finally managed to crack this mystery too. Incredibly, male 'gifters' couldn't impregnate female 'gifters' alone; there needed to be the semen of TWO different male 'gifters' in the vagina of a female 'gifter' for pregnancy to happen. This was confirmed to be true when me and Kris impregnated Chloe the same night that James made this discovery. Our family is expecting our first child; the first child in the entire world that will have two Dads and one Mum. Will we tell the story of our child, and of our future children, in the future? Who knows... time will tell. THE END

It was a sunny warm late afternoon in August. James Ramsbottom found himself standing in the parking lot belonging to Westwood Fitness in San Delgado, California. He wore clothing fit for a gym; a bright teal T-shirt, blue shorts, tube socks and bright white Nike sneakers. Looking at himself in a reflection was always a bit like love at first sight. Catching himself reflected upon a window of a Ford Bronco he ran a hand through his wavy blonde locks making certain it was perfect. 'A-prime beefcake,' he thought to himself. James was on the prowl. Today could've spent the afternoon lounging at his favorite sport club named Killearny but he was in search of someone he had heard so much about from friends. What he had heard not only peaked his curiosity but his other head down below as well. This someone was a girl, only 18 as it turned out, and was quite a sight to behold. One friend had mentioned that she was a real freak. Whether she was in the sheets or not he forgot to ask. This girl was presumably working out inside this very gym. James actual reasons for his visit had to do with adding this supposed dynamo to his stable of young women who had already fallen for his charm, good looks, libido, and prodigious sexual organ that swung under his sweatpants. Do it before Chad, Chuck, Brandon, or any other member of his circle tagged her. 'In and out bag and tag,' he thought to himself. He mused that getting women into bed was becoming easier nearly to a point of it ceasing to be a challenge. The girl in the gym would be no different after all she was only 18. If she wanted to see a freak he'd show his power wand between his legs. Mr. Ramsbottom's circle of fellow alpha male friends nicknamed themselves the Aqua Velvas a bit tongue in cheek to be sure. They dressed and walked to impress the fairer sex. They all had the swagger, the euro sports cars, the Aspen Winter condos that screamed wealth even if it came from Mommy and Daddy. It worked. Women fell for their charm. You could spot an Aqua Velva on the streets or in a club by what and who they wore. A virtual litany of Italian fashion lined the closets of it's members. Not only Italian clothing but Polo, Izod, Jordache, Guess, Ralph Lauren, and Burberry to name a few. Her name was Nadia Niculescu. Nadia lived in a fine neighborhood ten-minute drive from Westwood. She had happily married parents who were both doctors at Stanford University Hospital, and she had a younger brother named Alex. Both Alex and she were less than a week from becoming a freshman and senior respectively at San Delgado High School. According to James’ friends Nadia also had a huge breasted raven haired BFF named Sonia Savich. He looked to add Sonia to his list of conquests too. James did a quick visual sweep of the parking lot to see if he could spot either one of Nadia’s two means of daily transportation. Depending on the weather and whether or not she had to drive her little brother to school she often drove a car or rode a motorcycle. In this case she drove her car, and there it was. A black '69 Big Boss Mustang. James chuckled as he walked up to it shaking his head. A girl who drives a car like this must be 100% bad ass and a freak between the sheets. As for the car her Mustang was an extension of Nadia herself. Loud, big, brash, powerful, and full of business. He shook his head as he peered through the glass window and saw that the interior needed a cleaning. ‘Messy girl’, James thought to himself. He hated messy women. He loved discipline in his girlfriends. Neat, orderly, on time, and willing to take his orders on command. He caught his image reflected off of the glass. James let out a sigh and thought to himself, ‘No wonder the chicks go wild.’ Mighty fine indeed after all he was built and incredibly strong there was no argument there. The T-shirt he wore was stretched out, his shoulders, arms, and forearms were well developed. From top to bottom he was the perfect image of physical fitness. He checked to see that his perfectly coiffed dark hair was in place. He smiled at his male model looks and winked. James was certain that Nadia would instantly find him scorching hot. How could she not? He opened the doors to Westwood and took in the interior space which was quite spacious. The entire building broken into three large sections. The largest of which were the free weight and adjoining Nautilus rooms. There was a slightly smaller space reserved for hard impact step aerobics classes, one of which was in session. The walls were painted light gray, with neon lights accents spread about to break up the monotony of gray. The interior design allowed for a multitude of floor to ceiling mirrors. The carpeting was a slightly darker tone of warm gray. There were steel framed posters of male and female hard bodies hanging along the front lobby and rear hallway leading all the way to the locker rooms at the back of the gym. Near the locker rooms were several saunas, whirlpools and one Olympic sized indoor swimming pool. James approached the front desk in the lobby as “One Night in Bangkok” by Murray Head Music began to play through the overhead speakers. A buff guy behind the front counter wearing a name tag that read Chase looked up at James and asked, “Hi there, need any help?” “Ah, do you have a membership form?” James asked. “Yep, sure do. Here you go,” he handed James a clipboard before adding, “We can give you a day pass in the meantime. What’s your name?” “The name’s James,” he said. Chase wrote up a day pass and gave it to him. “Chase you mind if I take this form with me and fill it out later?”, James asked after all he wasn‘t here to join but to bang one of its female members. “Hey, no sweat just fill it out when you have time,” he replied as the desk phone rang. “Where did you used to work out?” Chase asked after he finished helping the caller. “Oh, ah Gold’s. You know down in Venice,” James lied. “Awesome. Yeah, I love Venice Beach, pretty rad place,” Chase said. “Say, uh is Nadia here?” he inquired. “Bennings or Nicu….Nicul…”, Chase said appearing to have some difficulty pronouncing her last name. “Uh, Niculescu.” “I can never say her last name. Yeah, she’s in the weight room. You want me to point her out or go get her?” “Nah, I’ll go and find her it’s no problem man,” James smiled heading off knowing from the descriptions given to him by his friends would suffice. As he did so James passed several full length mirrors. This time he didn't stop to admire himself as he was on the prowl for his new prey. There would be time for self-indulgence later. James crossed the threshold into the weight room. It was crowded and even from his vantage point there was a bit of difficulty picking Nadia out. The song “Shout” by Tears for Fears came on. James really hated that tune. For an instant he thought he spotted her near the other side of the huge room. Was that her? There were so many other patrons it was hard to tell. James was told she had chestnut reddish brown hair cut in a short pixie style with one side slightly longer than the other. His target had brown eyes, and was at least 5’11”. His friend's words 'She's a freak, built like a tank' sounded off in his head. He maneuvered around others as he descended into the maze of equipment racks, dumb bells, barbells, weights, sweat and grunts. He expertly maneuvered avoiding two ‘roid kings. James then looked to his right. His jaw dropped. There she was! He simply couldn’t believe my eyes. She looked stunning and incredibly powerful. 'Fuck me she is a tank' James literally had to catch his breath. It’s one thing to imagine someone from a description but to actually see them up close is entirely different. She exuded a scorching sexuality that was different than anything he'd encountered before. Nadia was performing squats with several muscle-heads hanging around her like a pack of vultures. She was doing a hell of a lot of weight from the looks of it, well over 675 lbs. Despite the incredible weight she did them with a sense of ease her motions incredibly fluid. She wore black spandex shorts and a red OP T-shirt cut off at the midriff with sleeves and collar removed. She had a red bandana wrapped around her head acting as a sweatband and wore a pair of red Reebok sneakers to top off the ensemble. From James’ vantage point Nadia had an insanely over-developed V-shaped back that tapered to a small waist. Her traps and deltoids were just massive. Shoulders that made up of segmented muscle striated in bands that reminded James of a cluster of bananas. Her legs and ass looked as if they were straining to burst out of that spandex. Nadia’s huge quads looked like they could crush coconuts and those big diamond shaped calves would make male bodybuilders green with envy. ‘Jesus I can’t believe this a chick, and a teen at that!’ James wasn't expecting Nadia to look like this. She was far beyond anything he'd ever imagined. He had seen from magazines, articles that featured a few women who had achieved some impressive muscle size and physical strength. There was the famous Mary Logan a Scottish immigrant living in Chicago who amazed audiences in the 1890s with near super human strength. With her stunning beauty and physique Mary lifted wagons, pulled teams of oxen and boxcars with a disturbing sense of ease. Then there was Madamoiselle Emelie Guingand who in 1913 was photographed hoisting a French Army 75 mm artillery piece over her. James' mind recounted the feats of Yulia Kachaturova a Soviet blonde beauty who bested the French woman by lifting a tractor over her head in 1940. Yulia's cute smile not showing a hint of strain. These women were legends and as such a legend is something that existed in the past. James never expected to some face to face with a modern day legend. Not here in San Delgado California. Yet there she was. She was just finishing a set when James looked to her reflection in the mirror as he approached her workout station. Muscle-head #1, her official spotter apparently said something to Nadia that made her smile. In fact all the other guys hanging around her were making fools of themselves trying to get her attention, lauding over her. It turned his stomach to see guys act like that. As he came closer James’ eyes and hers made contact in the mirror. The gaze lasted less than a fraction of a second yet it caused James to stop in his tracks. Those dark smoky eyes of hers appeared to bore right through him. As he walked behind her the spotter gave James a sideways look that wasn’t too friendly. James wasn’t moved by his gaze. ‘Know your place limp dick.’ He felt a bit dumb retracing his steps to perform a second pass. As James did so he caught her looking at him in the reflection as she was about to start her last reps. His dick twitched. James figured Nadia would be finishing up soon. He looked around the remaining parts of the weight room before leaving to check out the rest of Westwood. While he waited he caught glimpse of a woman who reminded him of one Cameron Feagin. Cameron was a young woman in her early 20s who was passed around various members of the Aqua Velvas like some VCR tape. An aspiring actress she was fooled into sleeping with James and his friends who did their own style of acting by making her think they had contacts with various Hollywood agents. Cameron was stunning, desperate, and fortunately for James quite naive. Then one day in Tijuana he spiked her drink like many of his friends often did with girls. She had a severe reaction, foamed at the mouth and died. James panicked and rang a friend who in turn knew of someone in the Mexican underworld. For five thousand dollars this Mexican placed Cameron's body in the trunk of his car and drove off with promises to bury the body somewhere. James' only reaction after a while was the bitterness towards Cameron for dying and to his drug dealer friend who told him the spike was “the shit”. Yeah the spike 'Was shit' he thought. Suddenly there was movement out of the corner of his eye. Nadia approached. His heart rate increased as she walked near James to get a drink of water from a fountain. ‘I can’t wait to get this one into the sack. She'll be in my black book in a category all by herself’. When she got within a few feet of him, those eyes of hers suddenly locked onto his. James could’ve sworn there was a super charged bolt of lust that flashed between the two. He licked his lips. “Hi,” she said. “Hey there,” James answered straightening himself out to appear taller. She wasn’t wearing a bra. James sized up her breasts to be a bit more than a handful. His cock twitched. Her nipples were quite pronounced as if she was already turned on. He slobbered over her exposed midriff that revealed a set of abs that resembled silver ingots. ‘Shit she’s something else,’ he thought. “You must be new. I’ve never seen you here before,” Nadia remarked as she removed the red bandana from her head. “Yeah, I just moved up from L.A. I wanted to find a gym and chose this one.” “Well I’m sure you’ll like it here,” Nadia replied. 'Love her eyes,' “I know I will,” he smiled. “Work hard, play hard that’s my motto. All the gym members here are totally serious about gettin’ their bods in shape. You should fit in really well.” “Well looking at you I’d say you definitely work hard, very hard. You’re unbelievable,” said James. “I play hard too.” “That I have no doubt. You need a play partner?” he asked with a sly grin. “Kinda depends on a few things,” Nadia replied her eyes checking him over. “Oh, like what?”, he asked. “Whether you’re the type that really gets me off. You know the kind of guy that lives in my fantasies.” “Was I in your last fantasy?” James grinned. A slight smile broke across her face and she said, “Hmmm, the stud in my fantasy had a great big cock and a pair of balls the size of lemons that he kept bragging about,” Nadia said putting her hands on her hips and looking straight into my eyes. ‘Damn look at those delts and biceps!’ “Is that right? Well look no further I’m your man.” “You think you’re my fantasy dude?” she smirked. “I might be,” he replied. “Really?” she chuckled in a manner that revealed she thought otherwise. Before James could say anything she stepped forward and put a hand down the front of his sweatpants, her gaze never broke from his. A devilish smile soon appeared across her face. He got an instant hard-on. “Oh, hey jeez wait uh, let‘s go somewhere private,” he said. Her hand stroked his organ and balls, massaging them before pulling her hand out from his sweatpants. She smelled her fingers, a flash of lust appeared in her eyes. She grunted softly, “Yeah, you might be right stud. I think we did have a session the other day.” Overcome with lust he blurted out seemingly out of control, “I gotta pound you deep with my big dick.” “Mmmm, that’s more like it. Well then Mr. Big Dick let’s see what you’ve got. Haul it out and pound it for me”, she cooed. “Uh, right here right now?” he asked incredulously. “I love to see a guy pound his own meat. Are you game? I so want to see those balls bounce while you jack off,” she cooed. James looked around and despite both being in a hidden nook well away from the public eye, doing something like this was something he tried to avoid. She didn’t seem to care one bit. “Maybe you’re not the stud from my fantasy. Sounds like you’re a fuckin’ wuss,” she smirked. “Yea? Well maybe it’s too big and you’re simply afraid,” James blurted out. She laughed, “Haul it out pal.” “Nah, you better do it,” he shot back. She still had that smirk on her face as she slowly got on her knees and pulled his sweatpants down to his knees. She grunted as she saw James’ turgid cum cannon spring up. The thing was getting fatter by the second. Veins stood out like roads on a map along the entire thick shaft. The energy James felt as it pointed skyward never failed to send a wave of power through him. James had always thought he could ram his cock through armor plate. He looked down on Nadia and upon seeing her kneeling down before him his slight case of anxiety he had earlier left him. “Fuckin’ suck it now,” he hissed. She looked up at him as if she was about to say something subservient as most women did to him but instead her dark eyes glowered back, “I don’t think you get how this works stud, you’re my toy.” She grabbed his cock and rammed it into her mouth and down her throat in a mere three seconds. Her deepthroating skills were beyond anything he’d ever experienced with the vast majority of the thousands he‘d fucked in his twisted sex crazed life. Up and down, up and down, up and down she went glazing his shaft with spittle. The blow job was heaven and he wished it would last longer but James already felt the urge to splurge. She sensed it and each time he was about to blow Nadia pulled on his ball sack preventing relief. In a matter of two minutes he went from dominant to dominated. She yanked on the ball sack and squeezed gently, “Who’s in charge fuckwit?” Pain and pleasure hit his nerves at once making James groan. She did it again this time harder, “Answer you fuck.” “You,” he grunted. “What was that?” she squeezed. “Ow, shit,” James winced. “That’s not an answer,” she shot back. Her offensive against his cock and balls continued unabated. Pressed up against a wall he was now receiving more pain than pleasure as his lower abdominals were cramping from the need to release the tsunami of seed. “You are, y-you’re in charge,” he stammered wishing he could cum. “Mmmm? Want me to stop?” she asked. “P-please,” he asked nearly begging. She grunted, “Fuck that boy-toy.” By now his balls were turning a shade of cobalt blue and the cock head a tint of violet. He was literally squirming to get away at which point she stood up. One hand stretching and massaging his ball sack to prevent the impending explosion. She used a forearm to push James back against the wall, her face only inches from his. “Don’t squirm wuss, you’ll only make it more painful,” Nadia said pressing harder into his chest. “Ah, shit please I gotta blow,” he spluttered. “You wanna blow your big wad huh stud,” she whispered. “Y-yes, p-please,” he grimaced as her arm press was starting to affect his breathing making him wonder just how strong this girl truly was. “Want me to make it all better, make the pain go away?” she said quietly. The pain and general discomfort he was undergoing was in fact getting a bit more extreme. She was enjoying every minute. She was clearly in charge and she made him know that. James had no doubt she must've made other guys feel the same. His anxiety came back this time full force. His legs felt weak. He wondered if Nadia even had a steady boyfriend. She most likely went through guys like a hot knife through butter. Hell, she probably collected them, made them do whatever she wanted. Being faced with her incredibly muscled physique, strength, height, and beauty Nadia was intimidating. She knew it of course and therefore used that to get what she desired. James suddenly realized he was being bested by his counterpart of a sorts. “You’re gonna eat your own cum dumbfuck,” she sneered. “What?” Before he even had time to fully register what she had demanded she grabbed the back of his head and forced James to double over while holding his balls and cock in the other. His neck and back muscles protested by causing the Alpha male to yell out briefly. Before he knew it his own cock was rammed into his very own mouth. She held James in a semi balled up position and growled, “Eat it slave,” as she helped to release the torrent of jizz held back for so long. It shot into his mouth and throat, rope after rope of hot seed blasted forth. The stuff was coming out of the corners of his mouth and nose. She laughed. James felt as if his own jaw was about to break from the size of his bloated cock. He was beginning to gag and tried to pull his head back but her forceful hand kept his head locked onto his own meat. James’ back muscles began to burn from the pain. “Yeah, that’s it stud eat it. Oh, yeah like that,” she smiled. She held him folded over as James was forced to eat his own seed. He'd finally stopped cumming but she held him in that position for a short while berating him in a hushed tone of how inferior he was compared to her. Finally, Nadia gripped his hair and yanked his mouth from the softening cock. James made a gasping sound trying to inhale as much air as possible. His face was a red mess, tears ran down his ruddy cheeks cum plastered over his square jaw and dimpled chin. “You look like shit faggot. You should get yourself cleaned up,” she snickered. His head was spinning and his muscled limbs felt heavy as if they were made of concrete. His growing anxiety forced him to blurt out, “You bitch, you’re really fucking crazy.” Her sly smile disappeared, and her dark sultry eyes began to glower in anger. She grabbed his aching crotch squeezed hard making him yelp in pain. She single-handedly hoisted 225lb James off the ground, “Yeah, you do need a wash.” James knew he was in for it and tried to reach for her throat. She sneered and struck him in the solar plexus with a punch that made him see all the stars in the Milky Way. All of the air within him left his lungs like some airplane cabin suffering a decompression at 35,000 feet. She threw him over one of her broad shoulders walked down the hall and kick in the door to the hot tub. With one foot she kicked the machine on making the water effervesce in a cavalcade of bubbles. Like a sack of garbage, she threw the now demoted Beta male in the water. He gasped for air as thrashed about attempting to recover from the aching sensation in his gut. He wiped the hair and water away from his “dreamy” blue eyes and there she stood. Her hands upon her hips looking down at him as if he truly was subservient. Even now he was in awe how her gym outfit conformed to her outrageous body. “I own your ass. You’re gonna learn like everyone else that I run the roost. Capiche? Soon you’ll worship the very ground I walk on,” she said in a tone that yielded an overwhelming sense of self-assuredness. “Do your parents know what you’re like? Do they know what you do, how you act?” he demanded. She smiled and replied, “I’m an A student, a loving helpful dutiful daughter to my parents and supportive protective sibling to my younger brother. Do they know how I treat scum like yourself? No, of course not.” “Well maybe I ought to tell them,” James replied back to her. “Hmmm, that would be a poor choice bucko. I’d bury your ass if you did, and I do mean bury,” she smiled her eyes boring holes through him. “Okay missy,” he’d had enough of her attitude and scraped what little pride he had left. “Missy? What decade are you in?”, she laughed. James scrambled out of the hot tub, his self-esteem nearly shot. The idea of being challenged by a girl was more than he could bear. If news got out of this episode no woman would ever want to be seen with him ever again. The “Superstud” James Ramsbottom would forever live in shame. He had to do something. “You look pissed,” she said as he fumbled his way over to her. “You’re damn right I am,” he barked. “Shhhhh, calm down little man. Don’t spaz out. I see you still haven’t learned. Therefore, I’ll have to be much firmer with you,” Nadia said in a calm voice that only served to agitate him more. The light and shadow played games across her incredible musculature. Nadia's back looked like some geographical relief map of valleys and rolling hills of raw muscle. He couldn’t help feeling a tiny resurgence of lust down below. ‘I’ll rape this mouthy bitch raw,’ he thought to himself. “I’ll be the one who’s firm. Just assume the position and take it like the whore you are,” he demanded. “A whore? How about an introduction first. Why don’t you say hello to my Enforcers,” Nadia answered. “Your what?” “My Enforcers,” she reiterated doing a double bicep pose. ‘Fuck me’, James was astonished even a little frightened by her physique. Her arms were truly huge and those lats of hers, by God! He guessed the size of her guns to be around 23 inches (at least) in diameter with biceps that actually sported a double peak. The vasculature wrapped around steely forearms and bicep muscle like cables. He gulped. She wobbled a huge glute before tensing the muscle that revealed segmented musculature, “And these are my glorious Pythons.” Nadia was a complete package with attitude to boot. “I think you need to lay off the juice honey.” Nadia laughed, “You think I take that stuff? No way Jose. What you see is all me pal. Just me, myself, and my killer genes.” “Yeah, sure whatever you say. Your genetics alone are responsible for all that muscle and your feminine charm,” he snorted. “I'm a great person once you get to know me, I mean as long as you stay on my good side that is, “ Nadia replied. “Oh, I bet you're all sugar and spice bitch.” “Isn't that what you like in a girl? For her to be innocent, sweet, and submissive or do you like them to be dominant like me? Maybe you don't have a preference. You just see what flips your griddle and go for it,” Nadia said fawning an air of innocence. “Take a fucking guess,” James said grabbing a towel to dry off. “Did you get all your own cum off?” she snickered. “We aren't done here,” he muttered. “You know I bet you're a sub. You act like Mr. Dominant but secretly you love to be the receiver. Am I right? Now what would be your hottest fantasy? Lemme think for a sec.” “I can guess your story honey. A guy you really liked once said you were the lamest lay he'd ever had. That dashed your dreamy dream of skipping off into the sunset hand in hand with him. So you swore to yourself you'd punish every guy you'd meet especially those like myself who are confident in who we are. Guys like me are a reminder of that one that got away.” Nadia laughed clapping her hands together, “Wow! Is that what you think? Do yourself a favor and never become a psychologist, you truly suck.” James’ mouth was dry and he wiped water from his face. He’d have to seriously take her on if he was to recover any sense of self-worth. He’d never live this down if he lost. Whatever happened next he’d make up one hell of a story later for his friends. “Okay b-bitch whatever, your t-times up. I’m g-gonna kick your ass and f-fuck you r-raw,” he said. She snickered in response which caused her cobble stone abs to tighten and her breasts to jiggle. Nadia imitated his speech, “Oh r-really y-you’re gonna k-kick my ass? For sure. It's time you got on all fours and kissed my feet worm.” Nadia gave him an open handed slap to his face. The sound reverberated throughout the room and gym. Her hand struck his face and made a sound similar to a bullwhip cracking. The impact caused the male stud to lean hard over. Something brilliant white flew from his mouth and skittered across the tiled floor. James thought he was about to lose his balance and fall over. The entire left side of his face burned something fierce but that wasn't the only sensation that that made warning bells go off in his head. For some reason the vision from his left eye was suddenly blurred. No, correct that he had no vision from that eye period. “What the fuck!? Shit I-I can't see out of my fucking left eye. Shit!”, he exclaimed. “I think you lost something else bozo. Better look in the mirror,” Nadia chuckled. He staggered over to one nearby and was shocked by what he saw. Half of his face was beet red and one of his famed pearly white teeth had a problem. A guaranteed public image problem, “You fuckin' bitch! You knocked the cap off of one my front teeth. Fuck!” He saw her in the mirror's reflection standing behind him hands on her hips with a big grin across her face. “I think it went over there somewhere, “Nadia nodded. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” James got on his hands and knees to look for his prized cap on the floor and blubbered, “Where is it?” “Jeez stop spazzing out. I didn't even hit you that hard,” she said. “I-I think you detached my retina too. Shit!” “Gotta admit there are times I don't know my own strength,“ Nadia shrugged. “There it is!”, he cried out as he spotted the lone tooth cap hiding in a corner. James tried to examine it and went back to the mirror. What would his fellow Aqua Velvas think of him looking like this? A tear welled up in his eye and he sniffled. James stomped his foot in frustration like a petulant child, “No, no, no! I look like crap dammit!” “Are you crying? Holy shit you are! Oh my god you're such a fucking fag! What a freakin' pussy. I was about to say that I'm not done with you here but now I'd actually feel bad beating you to a pulp. I give you permission to leave. Really just get the fuck out of my sight you freak.” He turned to her and for split second thought about rushing her before making the wise decision to cut and run. His face all red he replied, “This isn't over bitch and you know it!” She could only giggle at the Beta male with the fucked up tooth trying to make threats, “Hey bud, you better hope I don't see you again because if I do I guarantee I'll turn you into my very own meat puppet.” A member of Nadia's fan club was nearly bowled over by James who staggered out from the whirlpool room muttering to himself about how he was going to 'kill the bitch'. He was followed by Nadia herself who slowly sauntered back to the weight-room. The fan club groupie just shook his head and said to her, “Nadia you're such a heart breaker, or should I say neck breaker.” She smiled back and replied, “You know it.”