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Hello all. Found this story on an old computer. If I remember correctly, it was inspired by a story about the wrestler Scott Steiner taking on a bodybuilder from the 80’s. I can picture the bodybuilder, but for the life of me I can’t remember his name. Anyway, here’s my story inspired by the theme. It’s way over the top and fantastical. It’s unfinished so feel free to add (and share) your own ending. Wrestler vs. Bodybuilder Scott Samson made his way to the ring with his trademarked air of utter confidence. Standing in the ring, shaking himself out, the renowned professional wrestler glared at the entryway, awaiting his opponent as he removed his robe to reveal skin tight, mid thigh length black lycra shorts. The man was massive. His fans roared their approval when he unveiled his hugely muscular physique. They could hardly wait for the spectacle of this huge man flexing and posing. His signature post introduction routine always drove his fans into a frenzy. This special exhibition match was going to be unique. Samson, arguably the greatest wrestler ever to prowl the squared circle, would be taking on one Matthew Robert Horn. Horn was bodybuilding's current Mister Olympia and had won that title consecutively more than any man in history. To make things even more interesting, The massive Mr. Horn was fresh off winning one of the year's major grand champion titles in Mixed Martial Arts, the first professional bodybuilder ever to do so. Horn appeared and a stunning sight he was. He appeared to be in the best shape a human specimen could be in, even bigger than most fans remembered. He wore black and yellow striped, square-cut posers and nothing else aside from a black, rubber wrist band with the slogan “No such thing as too big!” printed in yellow letters. Almost as wide as he was tall, the first thing that dropped jaws was the size of his upper arms. He had an enormous overall build, but his arms stuck out in particular, the triceps and biceps bulging out without even flexing them. His signature single biceps pose was so awe inspiring that it had earned him the nickname “Matterhorn” in the elite professional bodybuilding circles. Horn stepped into the ring and the two opponents glared at each other as the ring announcer made the introductions. Samson raised both his arms in a double biceps pose and as he’d expected, the fans roared their approval as the two guns peaked into their full physical majesty. Horn didn't flinch. He slowly raised his right arm and flexed his own massive biceps. A hush came over the crowd as the mass of his biceps and the thickness of the triceps combined to make an unbelievable sight. Horn smirked at Samson for having the nerve to keep flexing in the face of such sheer muscle size and power. Horn moved his forearm back and forth, accentuating his muscle and turning his wrist to add to the definition, expanding that massive forearm in the process. Samson continued flexing and the ref appeared in the ring, a tape measure trailing behind him. "Looks like these two have something to prove.” The fans loved this and roared with approval, the prospect of these two behemoths engaged in a flex off prodded them out of the stupor that the shock of Horn’s sheer size had put them into. The ref placed the tape measure around Horn's right bicep. The big bodybuilder steadied his flex at maximum so that the ref could get an accurate reading. The referee’s eyes went wide with shock. After a moment of being struck speechless, he managed to read the measurement aloud: “Twenty-four inches”. These were wrestling fans. Samson was their guy, but the sheer mass of Horn’s biceps stunned the crowed. Many were shaking their heads in disbelief. The silence was broken by Samson. He said nothing, merely clapping his hands slowly in mock applause as he smirked at Horn. The big blond wrestler then raised his left arm but rather than flex that massive biceps right away, he merely snapped his fingers to get the ref’s attention. Tearing his attention from Horn, the ref moved to measure Samson's left biceps which loomed huge even relaxed. Samson turned his wrist in and his forearm bulged huge with thick veins everywhere. He brought his wrist out straight and then flexed that muscle up high and huge. The ref wrapped the tape around the wrestler’s bulging upper arm and carefully took its measure. “I don’t believe it Ladies and gentlemen, Twenty-four huge inches!”, the referee shouted. “The Matterhorn has met his match!”. The crowd erupted in a frenzy of cheers and applause! Samson merely raised an eyebrow as he directed his gaze from his flexing biceps to Horn who was gaping at Samson's arm, then back at his own. “I-It’s as big as mine?!” Horn stammered, clearly shocked that a mere wrestler had been able to match him. “A tie”. He said, absolutely stunned. Samson’s expression changed to a slight knowing grin. “Nah, ties are boring.” Bearing down, Samson forced his biceps to bulge still larger. The tape measure slipped in the ref’s fingers from twenty-four to twenty-four and one quarter! Twenty-four and one half! Twenty-four and three quarters! When that awesome arm reached Twenty-five massive inches, Horn's jaw dropped. He slowly lowered his own arm, no longer eager to see the enormous muscle he’d spent years sweating for in the gym get ever more dwarfed in comparison to Samson’s As the wrestler’s biceps just continued to bulge larger, Horn shook his head in abject disbelief. “You’re...HUGE!” Blurted the big bodybuilder. He then glanced around, embarrassed that in his shock he’d exclaimed his awe aloud. Samson smirked at Horn’s dumbfounded remark and brought his right arm up, going into a double biceps pose. “Matterhorn, say hello to a couple of Mount Everests.” He laughed with smug satisfaction as he continued pumping those mountainous muscles larger, the tape measure reading inexorably increasing as Samson flexed. Twenty-five and one quarter! Twenty-five and one half! Twenty-five and three quarters! Twenty-six! Samson’s mighty arm was utterly dwarfing that of an Olympia class bodybuilder! Its sheer mass was making Horn feel queasy. He felt himself sway unsteadily on his feet. He had to concentrate to maintain his balance as he wiped at the cold sweat that had broken out on his brow. Samson smiled as he surveyed the massive peak that was straining the referee’s measuring tape . “Think I’ll stop right there. Looks like I'm making the muscleman go a little bit green around the gills, wouldn't want to make him faint dead away before the match even starts”. Deafening cheers drowned out the announcer who was attempting to call the measurements. The announcer moved for the mic. "And your winner, Scott Samson with 26 inches!” The crowd went wild as the announcer continued, "We know who's bigger now, how's about we find out who’s stronger”. Through his astonishment, an explanation for Samson’s impossible mass suddenly occurred to Horn. He'd seen it all in his career, the myriad of ways unscrupulous competitors used artificial shortcuts to achieve fake gains. Samson must have cheated his way to such implausible massiveness. Whether it was implants or some kind of injectable, Horn didn't know. The technique might have been flawless but faking size was one thing, strength was a different story. Horn was determined to crush Samson’s superficial bulk, arm to arm. He'd show this preening faker the power within true, hard earned muscle. The crowd roared their approval. The ref had an armwrestling table brought into the ring. As soon as it was set up the two muscle gods charged the table and crashed their mighty guns together. Samson pressed ahead three inches and Horn pushed him back to center. Horn tried an offensive thrust but Samson didn't budge, a big smile on his face as he held Horn, at bay. Horn sneered. “Get ready to have that stupid smile wiped off your face. I'm gonna give you until the count of three, then I’m going to snap this puny, puffed up arm of yours like the little twig it really is!” Samson smirked. “Not sure a muscle-head like you can count that high, so allow me.” Samson began to count aloud. "One", he called and he pressed Horn’s gigantic arm four inches past the neutral position. Horn’s mighty arm flexed to new heights as he struggled to regain lost ground but he couldn’t budge Samson’s enormous arm. "Two", Samson took Horn down 4 more inches, four inches closer to defeat, like the other man wasn’t even there, even as he increased his mighty effort to resist Samson’s powerful onslaught. Horn’s arm began to tremble, every vein and fiber of muscle present on the big bodybuilder’s arm was visibly straining in an all out effort to resist Samson. At that instant, Horn’s biceps seemed beyond the size that any human muscle should be able to attain. But Samson’s big, rock-steady, mountain of a muscle totally absorbed all the incredible power Horn’s massive, straining biceps could muster. Samson grinned cooly. Then, he flexed his mighty biceps up to new heights. The sheer size of it was astounding and the move demonstrated that he had been able to drive Horn to the verge of defeat with only a fraction of his biceps true power. Horn’s biceps quivered and quaked with strain as it was utterly dwarfed by Samson’s even larger muscle. Eyes wide, Horn could only shake his head in disbelief. In all his years of bodybuilding, he had never seen an arm so huge. He'd been sure such size couldn't be real. But the wrestler’s strength was all too real. He knew what was coming. “Three.” Samson declared and with almost casual ease, he finished Horn off, slamming his arm to the table with a loud thud that seemed to reverberate throughout the stadium. Samson’s huge biceps had put Matt`s massive peak down for the count, literally. "Your winner…..Scott Samson!" The ref lifted Samson's arm in Victory for the crowd’s approval. Humiliated, Horn hurled the table aside and charged. He was going to enjoy taking this smug bastard apart with his peerless MMA abilities. The two opponents started trading blows. And not just any blows. These were mountain crushing roundhouse rights that came fast and furious, each opponent alternately delivering one to the other. First Samson’s massive, balled fist plowed into Horn’s thick chest with a resounding thump. Then Horn let fly in return with his own haymaker that landed against Samson’s chiseled abs with a teeth rattling thud. A huge one from Samson pummeled Horn’s abs in return. Horn shook it off with a grunt and his careening fist pounded Samson’s bulging pecs with a sound like a sonic boom. Feeling his battle lust rise, Samson laughed heartily as his powerful body shrugged off Horn’s punches. He focused attention on that perfectly developed bodybuilder chest of Horn’s, wanting to pit himself against the muscleman’s strongest attribute. The two titans continued to take each other’s measures with probing punches, testing for weaknesses that could be exploited. Horn decided that it was time to take the wind out of Samson’s sails. Clasping both hands together into a club-like double-fist, he brought down a devastating blow just above Samson’s solar plexus. The plan was to stagger his opponent with the devastating hit, then follow up by pounding his vulnerable midsection, reducing him to a breathless sitting duck to be finished off at Horn’s leisure. Instead, Horn’s opening punch merely bounced off Samson’s chest as the wrestler anticipated Horn, flexing his pecs into the incoming punch. Those granite-hard muscles deflected Horn’s fists, the recoil causing the bodybuilder to stagger backwards. Horn struggled and managed to recover his balance enough to follow up with his planned assault on Samson’s exposed eight-pack but the way all his power had just bounced off Samson’s thick pecs unsettled Horn. The wrestler had to be putting up a front. No one could absorb such a blow without feeling it. Horn roared with fury as his powerful right found its mark, pounding Samson’s abs. Still roaring, Horn pressed his assault, landing one devastating punch after another against Samson’s gut. It was like punching a brick wall, but given enough time, Horn knew that even a brick wall would crumble before the titanic muscular power he’d worked so hard in the gym to acquire. Horn looked up to make sure Samson didn’t slip in a lucky punch and interrupt the rhythm of his onslaught. Horn expected to see Samson’s face contorted with pain, his limbs flailing uncontrollably as he was battered so relentlessly. To his shock, he was met by a big grin of amusement as Samson stood tall, bouncing massive pecs that made even Horn’s renowned chest development suffer by comparison. “Careful there Matt. Ya never know when I might decide to flex the old beer gut. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” Horn struggled not to show his shock at Samson’s imperviousness to his punches. ‘Beer gut?’ Samson was mocking him, he may have been a mere wrestler but the man had abs that could hold their own on any bodybuilding contest stage in the world. And what did he mean ‘might decide to flex’, Horn wondered as he reluctantly marveled at Samson’s mid-section. Those abs...those obliques, the way his fists were beginning to throb with pain as his mightiest punches bounced impotently off them....Samson had to be at full flex. “Not...gonna psych me out. No way you can take much more of this.” Horn growled as he intensified his attack, strengthening his punches and increasing the speed with which they came. Samson's face changed, the grin was gone, replaced by cold glare. “Not calling me a liar now, are ya Matt?” When Horn drew back for his next punch, Samson put both massive arms behind his head and with a sneer of contempt at Horn’s puny punches, he crunched down hard, flexing his abs into super-defined columns of muscle that looked like a wall of cinder blocks. But cinder blocks would have yielded more beneath Horn’s fist. Horn’s battle roar transmuted to a howl of pain as his hand nearly shattered against Samson’s abs. Horn clutched his battered fist as Samson held his pose, flexing his impervious abs. The cocky wrestler even gyrated his hips, taunting Horn. “Why are you stopping muscleman? Thought you said this ole boy’s Bud belly couldn't take it. Surely you’re not gonna wimp out just because of a few bruised knuckles.” Horn gulped at the diamond hard cuts of muscle undulating powerfully over every inch of Samson’s midsection. He fumed at the patronizing way Samson kept using phrases like beer gut and Bud belly to describe abs that put Horn’s own to shame. “Or maybe you’re just mulling over some advice to give me; help me whip this gut into shape like you muscle show boys do.” The bodybuilder’s face burned red at the wrestler’s condescension. Even though Horn was currently in peak contest condition, his hyper-trained abs looked soft and barely defined compared to Samson’s astoundingly ripped abdominal display. Horn was becoming almost mesmerized by the wrestler’s undulating abs and obliques. The crowd was going wild. Samson seemed as though the cheers were a charge of electricity. He landed one of his own punches and Horn flailed back. “Snap out of it, boy, you're starting to drool.” Horn drew back to retaliate but Samson swatted away the punch with ease. His name was being shouted from the entire arena. He landed two quick, easy jabs, one to the right side of Horn’s square jaw and followed up by a left, the perfectly executed hits whipped Horn's head from one side to the other. Horn's arms fell to his sides. “Down goes your guard.” Samson narrated with a smirk and two more jabs that left Horn's body swaying unsteadily. “And there goes your balance.” Samson’s precise jabs seemed effortless, as though designed only to demonstrate his precision. But their power devastated Horn. “I could knock you out cold with these little love taps but I'm guessing this crowd wants me to show off a little.” Samson decided to put more raw power into a punch. “Let’s see how them mighty pecs stand up to a punch with a little more oomph.” Stomping the canvas like an enraged bull might paw at the dirt, he charged at Horn and let him have a haymaker of a right directly to the bodybuilder’s muscular, prize winning chest. The sheer power of it lifted Horn off his feet, catapulting his big frame into the ropes. The big bodybuilder struggled not to pass out from the devastating concussive force. He had never imagined that his mightily muscled body could be hurled through the air with such ease by one single blow. How could this buffoonish wrestler turn out to be so impossibly powerful. In perfectly timed anticipation, as if to confirm Horn’s fear of being out of his league, Samson planted his feet, put his hands behind his back and flexed his chest and abs into a wall of rippling muscle. The ropes had slingshotted the hapless Horn back toward the waiting wrestler and the big bodybuilder thumped into Samson’s muscles as he flexed them. Incredibly, Horn bounced off that wall of flexing muscles and back toward the ropes. His ears ringing and his vision blurring from the force of the impact. Samson charged closer and when the helpless, disoriented Horn careened off the ropes once more, he was again driven into Samson, who again flexed his pecs, bouncing Horn back into the ropes. Samson now stood toe to toe with Horn hemming him in against the ropes and with nothing more than the flexing of his mighty pecs and an expert sense of timing, Samson was pec-bouncing Horn senseless, hammering the bodybuilder into the ropes only to have them rebound Horn back against his flexing pecs over and over. Complete chaos erupted in the stands as the huge muscleman was bounced back and forth with each of Samson’s flexes like Horn was little more than a plastic ping pong ball. Being pummeled helpless by the immense power generated by the mere flexing of Samson’s thick pulsating pecs broke Horn’s will. “H-how can he be doing this to me? He’s gonna pound me to pulp...just by f-flexing”. There could be no doubt. The wrestler had him powerfully, even frighteningly outmanned, overpowered and outmuscled. Horn knew he had to get the ref’s attention, he had to concede before Samson killed him. But he was at the mercy of the wrestler’s mighty flexing pecs. Samson was watching Horn’s eyes closely as he effortlessly and repeatedly bounced the big bodybuilder off his pecs. When he saw the look of defeat there, Samson clamped a bearhug onto Horn on his next impact. He stepped back toward center ring with the dazed muscleman as he spoke close to his ear in order to be heard over the crowd. “Thinking about tapping out, muscleman? You wimp out on me and I’m gonna find you after the bout and I’m gonna stretch out on my back and instead of bouncing you off the ropes I'm gonna bounce you into the stratosphere, then into orbit.” As if to prove he could do it, Samson performed a slowly building flex of his pecs as he spoke that made Horn’s eyes go huge with disbelief. “Y-yer pecs…” Horn wheezed. “...crushing...me.” “Aw, I’m barely flexing, runt. Now man up and pay attention. Stay in the match and you stay alive. Got it? Otherwise I show you what happens when I flex these pecs for real.” Eyes wide with fear and awe, Horn nodded his obedience. “J-just please...stop f-flexing.” “Good boy.” Samson grinned and as a reward he briefly relaxed those dominating pecs. “Now, where were we? You made me lose count.” He released Horn but immediately pulse flexed his pecs, hurling the stunned bodybuilder across the ring into the ropes yet again, then bolted after him. The ropes stretched to an an almost cartoonish degree as the sheer power of Samson’s flexing chest drove Horn’s body into them with such force that the turnbuckles groaned with the strain. Unfortunately for Horn, the ring held together and the ropes snapped back, whipping him violently back toward center ring. He could see Samson sprint to a stop, halting his hugely muscled frame on a dime at the edge of the ring with a frightening degree of controlled athleticism for such a massive man. Clasping his hands behind his waist, Samson arched his back and presented those massive pecs as he waited for the impact of the hapless bodybuilder against them, a devilish smirk on his face just barely visible over the huge muscular display. “NO!” Pleaded the world renowned bodybuilder in the split second before, with practiced precision, Samson flexed into Horn’s impact. The thick torsos of the two men slammed together. Horn’s pecs slammed into Samson’s, flattening against the wrestler’s thicker, broader chest muscles which were expanding toward him. That explosive muscular expansion hammered Horn through the air like a baseball being blasted off the bat of a hall of fame slugger. Grinning, Samson alternately flexed each pec in an intimidating, rapid fire display as he watched the terrified, barely conscious bodybuilder ricochet off the ropes and hurtle back toward him. Samson bounced the Multiple Olympia title winner until Horn began to lose consciousness. "Gotta say Matt, I'm a little disappointed here." Samson sighed, as the repeated impacts of Horn against his unyielding pecs failed to even register as perturbations in his voice. "Didn't think I would have you this out-manned." Samson stopped bouncing his pecs, then with a big grin, flexed into a double biceps pose as Horn thudded to a stop against his chest and then crashed to the mat in front of him like a collapsing building. "Ohhhh!" groaned the announcer as he vicariously absorbed the punishment that Horn was receiving. You couldn't hear anything in that arena because of the sonic boom roar from the crowd and Samson's name being called out from every corner. The announcer tried to shout a commentary over the pandemonium but failing to be amplified over the thunderous ovation, gave up. Fans were even posing in a mock-Samson pose in the stands as well as giving Samson the applause of his life. Horn, meanwhile, breathed in the grit of the canvas as his face was ground into the mat from his massive frame crashing down. He couldn’t believe the power of Samson. Horn was arguably the most muscular bodybuilder on the planet, but Samson had pummeled him senseless just by flexing. As if to confirm his muscular superiority, Samson was hitting a flawless side-biceps pose as the ref ran around the ring pushing photographers away who had climbed up on the ring apron. Horn manage to sit up. Samson noticed and decided that he’d had enough posing. He moved to Horn and reached down for a handful of Horn's hair which he used as a handle to raise his dazed opponent to his feet. Horn returned his gaze with an open mouth and glassy eyes. “You’re tougher than I thought.” Releasing his hair, Samson held Horn’s eyes with a confident glare as the bodybuilder swayed unsteadily on his feet. Samson bounced the pecs he’d just used to devastate the big bodybuilder. “What I just did to you by bouncing these big boys was just a warm up, though. Ready for the main event?” Samson struck that unmatchable double biceps pose he was famous for. Horn swooned as those biceps towered over him. His eyes rolled back and his trembling body crashed back to the mat, his face eating dust again. Samson turned to the audience, giving them the best possible view of his unmatchable guns. “Guess I got too much muscle for the muscleman, huh.” He flashed a white-toothed grin as the crowd roared anew. The ref took to the center ring with his mic, trying to restore order. "I think Horn has had it, ladies and gentleman. Samson has, so far, out-muscled and out-gunned Horn!", shouted the announcer, relieved at being heard again over the din. "I've never seen Horn look like that! Samson is just too much for him!" The fans were in agreement as they shouted in approval. Samson agreed as well, and he continued flexing for the cheering crowd. Horn was showing signs of consciousness again. Again, Samson assisted the groggy Horn to his feet wasting no time, he sent him careening into the ropes. Planting his feet squarely in the center of the ring as he’d done when bouncing the muscleman off his pecs earlier, he waited as Horn rebounded. This time Samson raised his thick 26" gun, flexed quickly, then charged the oncoming Horn. The massive Samson arm clotheslined Horn and he flipped him into the air where he spun through 360 degrees! Samson kept his arm in the clothesline position and Horn fell from the air to land, draped across it with the giant biceps peak driving into his gut. Samson bent his arm at the elbow and flexed. In defense, Horn flexed his abdomen against the motion, abs against biceps. Biceps won. As his overmatched abs collapsed, Horn feared he was about to be snapped in half by Samson’s bulging arm. But Samson whipped the gasping man around into a bearhug. As he’d done with his abs, Horn desperately flexed his pecs against Samson’s chest to defend against their crushing mass. Samson smirked at Horn’s puny effort. He slowly increased the flexing of his unstoppable pecs as he spoke. “We already know you don’t stand a chance against a real man’s chest, don’t we runt?” Samson’s point was reinforced by the relentless way his bulging pecs were flattening Horn’s chest, considered one of the greatest in the sport of bodybuilding, but totally outclassed by the mighty wrestler. “I said ‘don’t we runt’!” Samson shouted, ramping up the bulging expansion of his pecs. Horn felt his torso being deformed painfully as it conformed to the rock-hard curves of Samson’s burgeoning chest. “Y-yes,” gurgled Horn. “please...y-your chest. Can’t...breath…” Samson laughed. “Well, well, well. I guess it’s time for the best chest in bodybuilding, to say hi to the best biceps in wrestling.” Relaxing his mighty flexing pecs, the wrestler rotated the bodybuilder in his bearhug so that Samson’s right biceps was bulging directly against the center of Horn’s battered pecs. “Flex ‘em up, boy.” Samson goaded as he began to tense his right biceps against Horn’s chest. “But your b-biceps, I...I can’t win.” Duval virtually groveled. “You're...too much…” But he flexed down as hard as he ever had in his life, afraid of defying Samson’s command. His thick pecs bunched up into a rock-hard shield against the slowly flexing peak of Samson’s impossibly massive right biceps. “Tell ya what, wimp, I’m gonna give you a fighting chance here. Not gonna squeeze ya, just gonna drive my fist into my palm and flex. All you gotta do is contend with a little bit of bulging from the flexing of my biceps.” Horn gulped with something like relief as he felt Samson’s bearhug go slack. With a glimmer of hope, he flexed his chest even harder, maybe he could still show Samson what a world class bodybuilder was made of. Neither the relief nor the hope lasted very long. Samson tensed both biceps and Horn’s eyes opened wide in sheer awe. The wrestler’s left biceps expanded at his back. It felt like being pressed against a giant unyielding anvil. The hammer was Samson’s massively peaked right biceps. The iron of Horn’s desperately flexing pecs was overwhelmed instantly. Horn managed a desperate, breathless groan of pain as he was slowly crushed between those impossibly hard, huge biceps. “What’s the matter Matt? Stuck between a rock…” Somehow Samson flexed his guns even larger, “...and a hard place?” Horn felt his ribs all but fracture, but he couldn’t make a sound at this point. As Horn began to pass out, Samson relented. “Yeah! Biceps win, huh, Matt?” He cradled the swooning bodybuilder in his left arm as he flexed up his right in a single biceps pose. He then draped Horn over his flexing arm again and began to pulse flex the giant muscle up and down. Horn’s entire body rose and fell along with Samson’s flexes. Samson noted Horn’s silence. “What, not convinced? You wanna try again?” The idea of that terrified the gasping bodybuilder. He shook his head desperately and finally managed to speak. “Buh-Biceps...w-win.” He concurred. “Biceps...win.” He repeated to make absolutely sure his surrender was understood. “YEAH they do.” Samson crowed, nodding his head. He seemed to be saying "Oh, I’m not through toying with this wimp." Plucking Horn From his flexing biceps, he slung the huge man over his shoulder and then pressed him overhead, using the massive bodybuilder like an exercise barbell, Samson pumped him up and down with absolute ease. Manhandling Horn’s mass with no sign of strain, Samson brought the bodybuilding champion around in front of his chest and, maintaining his grips at Horn’s left knee joint and neck, Samson started curling him for rep after rep. Samson never showed the slightest sign of slowing or tiring, but the motion alone was enough to make his 26 inch biceps pump up to their unbelievable max. Samson seemed to grow frustrated with the lack of challenge presented by curling Horn like an oversized dumbbell. “C’mon Matt, you need to put on some real muscle. It’s like curling with a toothpick .” Samson hoisted Horn high overhead with one arm and then slammed him bodily to the mat like a discarded paper cup. The impact bounced the ref off the canvas. He managed to come down on his feet but he had to steady himself on the ropes. Samson scooped up Horn like a ragdoll. He wedged the struggling man’s head between his left biceps and forearm, then climbed to the second rope at one corner of the ring. Samson stood balancing against the top rope and suspended Horn over the crowd by hitting a single biceps pose and dangling the muscleman with his head still trapped by that flexing biceps. Horn clawed at Samsons steely arm, trying to free his head as his feet flailed in the air. “Aww, that big mean ole muscle too hard on your poor noggin?” Samson teased. He grabbed Horn by the neck and held the man high, showing him off like a trophy. When the cheering this induced died down, the wrestler flexed his mighty right biceps once again. The crowd cheered more. They never seemed to get enough of those god-like arms. Then Samson folded Horn almost gently over his flexed arm. With a mighty grunt of effort he flexed his right biceps with such speed and power that the explosively expanding muscle catapulted the defeated bodybuilder high into the air. Laughing, Samson watched Horn fall back toward him. He flexed up his left biceps and twisted at the waist so that Horn crashed back down onto that mass of bulging muscle. “Gotcha!” Samson called out as Horn’s big frame slammed into the even bigger muscle, where the bodybuilder once again lay limp, folded over the wrestlers arm. The feat stunned the crowd to silence. It didn’t seem possible to be so far above other men in sheer size and strength. There was a single sound that could be heard in the awed silence. “No...m-more.” Pleaded Horn as he slapped weakly at the wrestler’s huge biceps. “S-someone...someone...help me.” Samson laughed. “Who’s gonna help you, runt? One of yer muscleman pals?” The wrestler flexed his left biceps again with unimaginable speed and force. The bodybuilder was hurled high again almost to the ceiling of the facility before plummeting back down to thump bodily against the wrestlers insanely powerful flexing right biceps. “Bring ‘em on, I say. The more the merrier.” They watched in awe as Samson flexed again and again, bouncing an Olympia worthy bodybuilder from one mighty biceps to the other like a child toying with a rubber ball. “Might be fun pumpin’ these big ole biceps like this, only juggling you and Priest and Wheeler and Yates. HAW HAW, now THAT might even be a challenge. See how many of you Olympia types I can keep in the air at once.” At this point the crowd was actually starting to flee the arena out of fear. The ref was watching Horn bounce off Samson’s biceps repeatedly in a stunned trance, oblivious to the pleading, half conscious looks the helpless bodybuilder managed to affect after each impact with one of those omnipotent muscles just before being heaved skyward to new heights by the next unstoppable flex. Finally, Horn slammed into the multi story high roof of the arena after one of Samson’s phenomenal biceps flexes. “Oops.” said Samson with an almost sheepish grin. “As tempting as blasting you through the roof might be,” Samson explained as Horn’s huge but limp body slammed back down onto his massively peaked left biceps. “the owner is a pal of mine.” “P-please…” Horn managed, gasping for breath. “I’ll do...anything. Just...no more.” Samson laughed, flexing his left biceps larger and sending Horn higher. “I think it’s safe to say that I got the muscle to make you do what I want, with or without your cooperation.” He reached with his free arm and grabbed Horn, wrapping a thick, powerful hand around the traumatized bodybuilder’s neck and lifting him off that mountainous biceps. Samson wrapped his arms around Horn and pulled him against his bulging chest. “So your offer don't mean much, does it?” Horn was in no position to argue the point. At his back, forearms like sequoia pinned him against the impossibly huge, muscular expanse that was Samson’s pecs, while on either side of him, like massive planets poised to collide, the wrestler’s gargantuan biceps threatened to pulp him between them with the merest flex. “Please.” Horn pleaded, gasping. He was aware of his powerfully developed chest rising and falling as he struggled to catch his breath. The mere sight of this never failed to elicit slack-jawed stares of awe in the gym after an intense session. But against Samson’s vastly thicker, denser pecs, his frantically heaving chest was like the beating of butterfly wings against the steel hull of a battleship. “Your muscles...you’re super...human. I never...had a chance.” Samson tensed his pecs ever so slightly. Horn’s body was compressed between those two burgeoning slabs of muscle. “Guess you shouldn’t have challenged me then, huh muscleboy?” Horn struggled futilely to free himself, but Samson responded to the big bodybuilder’s efforts by flexing those awesome pecs to such massive proportions that Horn’s entire torso began to be wedged into the cleavage between them. “NO! God no! I'm...stuck between...you gotta stop.” Horn pounded futilely against the surging, titanic slabs of muscle that were Samson’s unstoppable pecs. “You...can’t keep flexing bigger...you’ll flatten me!” Laughing, Samson released the bearhug and placed his hands on his hips, holding Horn in place between his pecs with nothing more than the crushing force of his flexing chest. “Flatten you? Such a drama queen for one of the mightiest pro muscle dudes on the planet.” Samson grinned wickedly as he continued flexing those mountainous pecs slowly larger. “

Once classes started, Danny realized just how much he stood out in the Chemical Engineering department. He outweighed even the biggest of the guys by more than 200lbs of muscle. He saw how they looked at him, some with awe, some with feigned disgust. He was used to the disgust from high school, but now, he reveled in the awe. He realized right away that the TA of one of his labs was one of the awe-struck. The guy was a grad student, so he wasn't much older than Danny, andDanny saw how he looked at him, sneaking furtive glances whenever he could. Danny played on that awe. He stayed after one of the labs ended, because he had a plan. He was hoping that the TA would help him figure out what was in the Black Russian supps that Ivan was getting from eastern Europe. When Danny approached him, Ted, the TA, could barely speak. Danny introduced himself and put out his hand. When they shook, Danny's big muscle paw completely enveloped the TA's soft little hand. The grad student was about 5'5", 140lbs. When Danny grinned down at him, the little guy's knees gave out a little. Danny propped him up against the lab table. Then he got right to the point, pulling out a black pill and asking him how hard it would be to figure out what was in it. The TA took the pill and looked it over. "Probably not very hard," he said. "If I used the mass spectrometer, it would break it down to its components. I'm not supposed to use the equipment for things like that though." "What if we snuck into the lab after classes?" Danny flexed his 24" arm. "We could spend as much time in the lab as you want." The TA gulped hard. "I don't know," he said nervously. Danny, bouncing his 72" chest under his tight tee, said "I'd let you touch." The grad student almost fainted. He looked around the room. "You want to do it tonight?" he said. "I can probably snag the keys from the professor's office." His heart was pounding thru his chest at the thought of being with Danny alone in the lab. "Sounds good," said Danny, running his hand thru his hair, causing his huge arm to bunch up into a big ball. "Oh my god," groaned the young grad student. Danny's powerful pheromones wafted out from his armpit. "You have a poser?" asked the TA, tentatively, bracing himself against the lab table. "Yep," said Danny, reaching out and rubbing his hand along Ted's thin neck. "Would you wear it?" asked Ted, his eye twitching, and goosebumps running up and down his limbs. "Sure. What time tonight?" "Eleven o'clock. The last lab ends at ten." "Ok. Then I'll lift from eight to ten thirty, to maximize my pump." "You're not pumped now?..." The TA's boner was tenting out his white lab coat. "God, no. Just wait till you see. Everything will be inches bigger. I can bloat my quads from 34" to 38" after just two sets of heavy squatting." "....38 inches..." stammered Ted. "Yep. What is that, like ten inches bigger than your waist?" "Yess...." Danny grinned. "I'll see you tonight at eleven, then. Don't pop one out till then, little man." He turned and walked away, as Ted stared in amazement at the size of Danny's back, shoulders, neck, ass, and legs. ... == ... Dwayne's fight night was at a medium sized auditorium downtown. A lot of the guys fighting were amateurs like him, but there were a couple sanctioned fights scheduled for later on the ticket. Dwayne's fight was first. It was his opponent's first real fight too. Dwayne sized him up as they stepped into the octagon they'd set up for the night. The guy was in his early twenties, good build, but nothing overly impressive. He looked like the kind of guy who'd played sports in high school but was never a standout, but had a lot of spunk. He looked a little nervous, especially as he saw Dwayne, who's muscularity was at least 5 times more dense than his. Dwayne didn't have to clench his abs for them to stand out as a taut 8pak. Dwayne saw his opponent looking over at a young woman in the audience. She was a tiny thing, about his age, and looked about 7 months pregnant. The wife, figured Dwayne. He could tell she wasn't thrilled about hubby getting into the ring against him. The fight got started, and it was quickly obvious to everyone that it was a big mismatch. The guy's punches bounced off Dwayne, and Dwayne felt nothing, so he let the guy pound on him for awhile. Then he hit back. His jabs were many times faster than his opponent's, too, but he took care not to punch too hard. He could see the wife flinch every time he hit him. He had to end this one quickly, so he knocked the guy to the ground, got on him, and put him into a choke hold. He pulled the guy close into him, and whispered in his ear as he tightened the choke ever so gently. "Do yourself a favor, and give up fighting, man. You're just gonna get hurt. A guy like me could mess you up bad. Go get a regular job, support your wife and kid." With that, Dwayne tightened his grip just enough to make the pain real to the guy. He turned the guy's face so that he was looking at his wife, and could see her concern. The guy was starting to panic. Dwayne was so strong that it was surreal. He easily flipped the guy around and put him in an arm bar, forcing him to tap instantly. Dwayne helped the guy to his feet, and they shook hands. Dwayne looked over at the wife, and saw the relief on her face. When their eyes met, Dwayne winked at her, and she felt a wave of lust race thru her hormonally flushed body. He was the hottest man she'd ever seen, and she knew he had saved her husband from any real damage, so she blamed her feelings for him on that. Meanwhile, her husband came over to her from the octagon, and hugged her. "I'm done with the fighting," he said, and the wife gave a small wave of thanks to Dwayne. He nodded back. Then he noticed Mr K sitting a couple rows behind her, the same look of lust on his face. This made Dwayne horny, but his gym manager, who was now his fight manager, was talking to him. "That wasn't much of a challenge for you, was it?" he said, laughing. "Nah, man. Just got me all riled up, is all." Dwayne was still looking over at Mr K, hungrily. "Well, I might have good news for you. A guy dropped out of one of the sanctioned fights that's coming up next week. They need a replacement. I volunteered you." "Yeah?" said Dwayne, suddenly interested. "Who'm I fighting?" "This guy Tommy Bell. He's in your weight class, and is 11-0." "Oh yeh? So I'll be breaking his undefeated record?" "You could be. He's pretty tough though. Has been in and out of prison, and has won every fight by KO." "Next week, huh? Gives me time to get even stronger and faster," said Dwayne. He was getting hard just thinking about beating a guy with an 11-0 record. His muscles tightened and rippled in anticipation of what he would do. His manager got goosebumps watching Dwayne's body improve as they stood there. "I gotta go for now, man," Dwayne said to him. Then he made his way over to Mr K, leaned over him and whispered to him, "Let's go somewhere, Mr K. I need some sweet relief from that mouth of yours." Mr K couldn't get up fast enough. He followed Dwayne to the backstage area, where Dwayne broke into an office by snapping the door handle off and forcing the door open with his shoulder. "This oughta do," he said, leading Mr K over to a sofa that lined the wall. As soon as Mr K sat down, Dwayne pulled down his trunks and his big schlong flopped out. He stroked himself a couple of time. "Fuck, I need it bad," he said, as he guided his big dickhead into Mr K's eager mouth. "Did you see me fight that guy down?" Dwayne asked. Mr K nodded as he sucked. "That was just child's play, man. Wait till next week. Fuck, you got a good mouth, Mr K. Funny, cause I remember growing up, how you were always dating those big tittied women, and you were all macho and shit. Now look at you, sucking on me like a newborn calf. You like it, too, don't ya?" Mr K nodded again, still sucking Dwayne's thick knob. He couldn't believe it himself. He'd always been into women. But he couldn't resist Dwayne. And he couldn't get enough of him. He understood addiction now. All he wanted was to service him, to touch his body, smell him, taste him. And Dwayne knew it. "You wanna see me fight again next week?" Dwayne said. "Maybe if you're real good to me, I'll let you come." He flexed his arms over Mr K. "Aw, yeah," he said. "I got a huge load about to fill you up, been feeling my balls churning it out all day." Dwayne tilted his head back, and bucked into Mr K's face. Mr K had never wanted anything more than Dwayne's thick muscle paste. And Dwayne gave it to him, spewing so hard he had to put his hand on the back of Mr K's head to keep his mouth in place. Mr K did his best to swallow the hot nectar the god before him. He did pretty good, considering how much volume there was. Dwayne pulled his head off him. "You sure are hungry for this aren't ya?" Dwayne chuckled, remembering how Mr K had always thought of him as such a dork. Dwayne lifted Mr K up to his face and kissed him. He liked the taste of his jiz in Mr K's mouth, it tasted like cotton candy. No wonder the old guy like it. Mr K almost fainted from the hot young buck tonguing his mouth. Dwayne thought about how he'd gone from goofy dork to supremely handsome and supremely strong. He kissed Mr K deeper, the older man's feet dangling off the ground. Dwayne chuckled to himself as he felt Mr K cum in his pants. His own hardon had gotten even harder. He rested Mr K down on it, and it supported him in the air. "Goddam," said Dwayne after he broke the kiss. "I better head out for tonight, before I decide to ride your ass into the next century." He lifted Mr K up and set him on the desk of the office they were in. As he got dressed, he said, "I'll see you next week at the fight." Then he headed out. Mr K watched him leave. His heart pounded with lust. Next week? Could he last that long without a Dwayne fix? ...===... That night at the lab, Ted was unable to completely decipher what the small black pill was made up of. "We'll have to do more tests," he told Danny, fearful that it would mean that his massive student wouldn't showoff his huge body for him. But Danny didn't care. He was pumped to the max, and was aching to flex anyway. He sat Ted down on a lab chair before stripping down to his poser. "No touching yourself until you find the formula," he said to Ted. Then he flexed his arm an inch away from Ted's nose. It rose up over 25". "Kiss it," said Danny. Ted swallowed hard, then put his lips on the mountain of muscle in his face. Sweat ran down from Danny's deep pits. He smelled of gym and muscle and his own thick musk. "Stop for a second," cried Ted, pulling back from the beast-sized arm. He had to close his eyes for a bit. His heart was beating so fast. He was just starting to get hard, yet he'd almost cum. "Oh, there's no stopping this now, bud," said Danny. "Touch it." And he grabbed Ted's hand on put it on his arm. "Oh god," muttered Ted. Then Danny grabbed the seat of the lab chair, and curled it off the ground until they were face to face. "Oh my fucking god," said Ted. Danny curled him in the chair for reps. Then he sat him down and flexed a double bi shot. Ted's eyes were wide opened now, although one eyelid was twitching at the sight of Danny's massiveness so close to him. He was leaking pre, and it took everything he had not to touch himself. Then Danny turned around, and spread his back. His vast, grand prairie sized back, rolling with thick slabs of muscle that tapered down to his beefy lower back, padded with striations of symmetrical muscle. He made them pop out in a hard flex, and Ted came. There was no stopping it. Ted had no control. His muscle lust took him zooming into a zone of euphoria. Danny spread his back out farther, and Ted fainted, sliding right out of the chair. Danny turned and caught him right before he hit the floor. "Dude, wake up man," said Danny, slapping Ted's face lightly. Ted woke up quickly and found himself looking into Danny's concerned eyes. "Wow... Could you just hold me for a second?" Danny wrapped him up in his huge arms and lifted him up in his hug. Ted was in muscle paradise, swathed up in Danny's tree trunk arms. He never wanted it to end. "I'll figure out the formula for you," he said. "I know you will, Teddy. Right now, I gotta go though." "Where?" "My roommate's waiting for me for a dose of Danny batter. He thinks it's making him stronger and faster." "Is it?" "Yep," said Danny, unwrapping his arms from around Ted and setting him back on the chair. "I'll talk to you later." That's one lucky roommate, thought Ted, as he watched Danny get dressed, and head out of the lab. And that must be one potent chemical, if it can transfer its effects thru Danny's 'batter'. That night, Ted contacted a friend of his who was working on a PhD in Genetics. He enlisted his help in breaking down the little black pill. ...=... The night of Dwayne's next fight came up fast. But he'd had time to have a tailor-made suit custom made to fit him real snug, just like he'd seen McGregor wear at his press conference with Mayweather. Dwayne wore it into the ring, and the crowd went wild. His manager had told him that this Tommy guy didn't want the fight because Dwayne was still a nobody. But then Tommy's manager reminded him that he wouldn't get paid if he didn't fight, so he agreed. He figured it'd be easy money. He'd never seen Dwayne. He would soon though. As Tommy made his way to the ring, Dwayne started flexing in his shiny new suit. The shoulder seams to his jacket started ripping almost immediately. Slow at first, but then faster as he crunched into a most muscular. Dwayne flexed harder. Buttons popped off like bullets. His jacket split up the back. He ripped the shredding jacket off him and tossed the pieces aside. He flexed his arms and made the sleeves of his dress shirt rip as his peaks tore thru the fabric like it was tissue paper. Then he tore his shirt apart like the Hulk, exposing his rockhard torso. As Tommy watched from the apron, befuddled, the crowd was going apeshit. Tommy's slow synapses were trying to process what he was seeing. He'd spent time in juvvie as a teenager, and had been in and out of prison a couple of times, but he'd never seen anyone so jacked up as Dwayne. Tommy stepped into the ring, pretty sure he could handle anyone. He was 11-0, after all. His entourage didn't look so sure. Just like in his first fight, Dwayne noticed Tommy look over at a young woman in the audience. There was a different energy to this couple, though. Dwayne saw a look of fear behind her eyes, the same look he used to get before school, when he knew Tip would be waiting for him. Then he noticed the bruises on her upper arms. He looked at Tommy, and he didn't need to see the skull tattoo on his neck to realize that this goon beat on his girlfriend. Dwayne felt the heat building up inside him. This cocky tool was going to be taught a lesson. When the fight started, Dwayne let Tommy hit him a couple of times without trying to block the blows. Tommy was more confused than ever. His powerful jabs didn't seem to hurt his opponent in the least. So he whirled at him with his roundhouse kick, hitting him right in the side. Dwayne didn't flinch. It was like he had on Batman's mech suit, but it was just his own dense rockhard muscle. Tommy felt like he'd broken his shin bone. He hobble back in pain, and looked over to his corner, where his manager just shrugged and urged him to go back at him. But Dwayne was already coming at him, and threw a jab of his own, hitting Tommy right in his sternum. The jab was so strong and sharp, it knocked the wind out of Tommy. He staggered back against the cage. Dwayne was on him in a flash, picking him up and throwing him to the ground. Then he got on top of him and rode him around the octagon. Tommy had never felt such controlling strength. None of the moves he tried to escape Dwayne's holds had any effect at all. And each hold was more painful than the last. Tommy was in a panic to get away from him, even for a second, but Dwayne was having none of it. He worked him and worked him, then would pick him up and slam him back to the ring, then get right back on top of him. Finally, he put him in a rear naked choke. He leaned into Tommy's ear and said, "This is what happens to guys who hurt women." He maneuvered Tommy so he was facing away from the ref. Then he pulled on Tommy's arm until it popped out of his shoulder joint. Dwayne had one hand over Tommy's mouth, to muffle the scream. Tommy tried to tap out, but Dwayne had his hands trapped so tightly, he couldn't move them. "It's gonna hurt even more, going back in," Dwayne said to him. And he was right. He shoved the ball of Tommy's arm bone back into joint, and Tommy almost passed out. Dwayne flipped Tommy over on his back and mounted him, bending Tommy's ankles up behind his ears. Dwayne leaned into him hard, folding him almost flat on the mat. Again, he whispered in his ear, "If you hurt your girlfriend again, I'll come after you. And it will make what's happening here seem like a picnic." Dwayne pinned him down harder. "Then I'll make you change your first name to Tinker. How ya think 'Tinker Bell' will go over on the fight circuit?" Tommy was drenched in sweat, and gasping for air as Dwayne pressed against his ribcage with his superhuman strength. Then Dwayne stood up over him. He grabbed Tommy around the throat with one hand, then lifted him off the ground and into the air. He walked around the ring holding Tommy up, while flexing his other arm. The crowd was in a frenzy, even as the ref warned Dwayne about the choke hold. Dwayne looked at the ref, then dropped Tommy to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Dwayne jumped onto him, wrapped his legs around his torso, and pulled Tommy's right arm into an arm bar. Pain seared thru Tommy's radial nerve. This time, Dwayne let Tommy tap out. Then he released the hold and stood up. The ref took his arm and raised it in victory. Dwayne flexed into his most-muscular pose for the crowd, as it roared in approval. Tommy looked up at his vanquisher. He'd never been turned onto a man before, yet, despite his physical pain, he felt himself getting aroused as Dwayne's superior, muscular body flexed over him. Tommy would never have sex again without thinking of Dwayne in order to finish. ...==... A couple of days later, Danny texted Dwayne to meet him at the park. He had something important to tell him. When Danny pulled up, Dwayne was already there, wearing just his fighting shorts, and doing one-finger pull-ups at the fitness trail. "Hey, Bruiser," said Danny as he walked up to him. "I hear the fight went well." "Short and sweet, just like they'll all be. I'm switching to parkour." "Oh yeah? You gonna be leaping over tall buildings in a single bound?" "Don't laugh," said Dwayne, dropping off the pull-up bar. Veins ran up and down his arms, across his delts, and into his chest. "How's Jake?" "Hot as hell. And he loves it when I breed him." "As he should. You still on the wrestling team?" "Nah, I gave that up. Who's gonna beat these?" said Danny, flexing his arms. "They're peaking up to 26 inches now. "Bearhug me with them," challenged Dwayne. Danny grinned, then stepped up to Dwayne, and wrapped his massive arms around him. Then he squeezed. "Damn you are solid," said Danny, as he hoisted Dwayne off the ground. "Hell yeah, I am," said Dwayne, kissing Danny on his 24" neck. "Squeeze harder." Danny wrapped his arms around him harder. He'd be crushing most guy like a tube of toothpaste with the force he was applying, but Dwayne seemed unaffected. "And now I know why," said Danny. He liked how much strength he could use on Dwayne. It turned him on. That, and Dwayne's sucking on his thick bull neck. "Those grad students I told you about? They found out why Ivan's stuff works so well." "Yeah?" said Dwayne. Then he started sucking on Danny's earlobe. "Harder, man." Danny squeezed harder, his forearms bulging to 19 inches. "Yeah. It completely shuts down the myostatin gene and allows for unfettered growth of muscle and strength." "No shit? Can they replicate it?" "Yeah, they think they can." Danny dug his clamped fists deeper into Dwayne's lower back. "Why you think I'm not slabbing on mass like you?" asked Dwayne. "I'm not sure, but you're at least as strong as I am, and I'm pretty sure you've got other skills coming on strong." "Yeah, you're right. What's Ivan think about these guys making the stuff?" Both of them were sweating now, making it harder to grip onto Dwayne's granite muscle. They were both hard. "He's happy he won't have to go back to Poland anytime soon." "I bet...Harder, man, I'm starting to feel it now." Danny grunted and squeezed. Dwayne arched back in the bearhug. "Oh yeh, bro, that's is power!" They turned their heads toward each other and kissed. When they broke off the kiss, Dwayne said, "I've been hooking up with your dad." "Yeah, I know," said Danny, and then he kissed Dwayne again. "I've seen him getting more muscular, just like Jack. I caught him flexing in the mirror the other day." "I know. It's hot as fuck." "Dad thinks you can read his mind, maybe even control his thoughts." "Maybe a little. I think it's more the power of suggestion. Although sometimes, when I want his tongue to go to a specific spot, it goes right there. It's like I'm guiding it with my mind." "That's wild." "I know. Hey, you squeezing as hard as you can yet?" "Almost," said Danny. "Go full bore, I wanna try something." Danny tightened his grip around Dwayne and squeezed him in with his huge sweaty arms. Both of them grunted. Then Dwayne, with his arms trapped to his sides, started pushing outward with them. At first nothing happened, but then Dwayne felt Danny's arms open up a little from the pressure. Dwayne pushed harder, and Danny felt his grip slipping. Danny's neck veins popped out as he tried to maintain his hold, but Dwayne's arm strength pushed his hands apart. Dwayne was now able to move his arms, and he slid his hands up to the crook of Danny's elbows, and broke his bearhug. Dwayne's feet hit the ground, and he stepped back out of Danny's hold. "Dude, geezus," said Danny, huffing, his thick torso red and welted from holding Dwayne so hard. "I can't believe it either. You're so huge." Dwayne's torso was also reddened and welted. Sweat rolled off of him. "And you got freak strength, man." "I know. And I can feel it growing. Follow me." Dwayne led Danny over to an old wrought iron fence that bordered one side of the park. It lined the property of an old mansion that was on the other side. Dwayne went up to the fence, grabbed a railing in each hand, and ripped a four foot section of the fence out of the ground, and yanked it free of the rest of the fence. He held it out at arm's length and began to press in on it. Cords of muscle popped out all over his forearms and delts. Striations rippled across his chest. He bent over slightly as the iron began to fold in like an accordion, and his lats flared out with his effort. The four foot section soon became a two foot section. He bent over farther, and his abs crunched out like big cobblestones, as the fencing bunched up on itself like a cheap window blind until it was compressed to one foot. Dwayne lifted it into the air like a trophy. Then he tossed it to Danny, who caught it one-handed. He wrapped his fingers around the end pieces and pulled. The wrought iron began to open back up, creaking loudly as it did. Danny pulled and pulled, stretching the iron like taffy, his huge arms and chest swelling, until it became a five foot section of misshapen metal. "You ain't weak, either," Dwayne said to him. "Bro... I feel like...." Danny said, holding the iron fence in one arm and curling it slow and hard, watching his biceps swell to 27 inches. "Breaking into the mansion?" "Yeah....and then..." "Fucking each others' brains out?" "You reading my mind?" "Nah, I'm just thinking the same way. And I want to..." "Fuck in every room of the place?" "Shit, yeah. Now who's reading who?" The two of them walked thru the opening in the fence. Danny jammed the twisted up section back into place the best he could. They headed up the hill toward the empty house. The front gate had a For Sale sign on it. "You know what we should do?" said Danny, as they climbed the front steps. "Turn this place into a private gym," said Dwayne. "Fuck, you are reading my mind, you freak," said Danny. Dwayne laughed. "I know, but it is an awesome idea. We can get your dad to invest in it. And we'll only let in geeks and dorks. Build them up huge and powerful. Maybe even psychic." "Exactly. And Ted thinks they can make an even stronger formula. Imagine what could happen." "Dude. It'll be like Hogwarts for future muscle monsters." They kissed again on the front porch. Then Danny got ready to slam his basketball-sized shoulder into the front door. "Wait," said Dwayne. He grabbed the realtor's box that was hanging on the front doorknob between his thumb and index finger and crushed it until the key fell out. "You got finesse," said Danny. "Just don't wanna damage the goods," said Dwayne, opening the door. "Let's go see the future." And the two of them stepped inside.

A piece from my past...which I'll now follow up with a delicious encounter in a part two, if you like Rick...let me know!? I needed help moving. New job, new area and all. I didn't have a lot of money but wasn't about to kill myself carrying my meager, but heavy items to my new walk-up. I checked the old yellow pages I found on the stoop. And there it was, an answer to...prayer? "Rick Moves You," was the company name, with the by-line of, "A little cash buys a lot of muscle." I appreciated the double-entendre of the company name, even if it was just wishful thinking. I called. Rick answered.He was available, he said, with what sounded like a smile. Another tease? I was in a town known for beautiful gay men. Perhaps I'd be lucky. He sounded young, but definitely of the jock, athletic tone. That is, if a voice can really tell you anything. After all, mine is misleading and I regularly get called Ms. on the phone. "How many will you be bringing? I'll have a couple of beers for each of you ready. It shouldn't take more than 30-45 minutes to get all the stuff up and I'm glad to take an end of the sofa if you'll knock off the price a little.""Rick moves you, baby," he chortled. "I got this. We'll be done in 30 minutes and you needn't break a sweat."OK - hold up! That's ridiculous! Cocky in the ad - cocky on the phone. I just knew I was setting myself up for failure here, but I decided to be less cautious and put my money and hopes on the line. He said he'd be here in ten as he lived nearby.I was waiting on the stairs when he came running up the street. Not a jogging pace, mind you, running. Like in a race. He was fast. He was blonde and actually balding a bit. You know, when the hair is receding a touch and makes you look like a testosterone farmer. That's right - I actually wrote 'testosterone farmer.' I'll explain.This is the guy who's face has seen some sun, with a few tiny wrinkles at the corner of his eyes because he's a smiler. Farmers are smilers. His teeth are as close to bright white as looks natural - but they aren't perfectly straight. His significant arms are lightly bulging the end of their T-shirt sleeves and the tanned skin is covered with a golden hair that's only visible at the right angles of light. The testosterone in his body makes those little hairs stand erect. They flow over the skin following the contours of the muscles. The perfect cup of the delts, swirling into the thin cord atop the triceps. You suddenly notice the forearms are ridiculous...like the size of the upper arm at certain angles...when he shakes your hand. The hands are rough but clean. His nails super short. He is about 6 ft 3. Whatever else he's packing...he's a testosterone farmer!Rick had to ask a second time where my stuff was, because I was amazed. I vaguely indicated a truck a few spaces down with an open back. He surveyed the items and said he'd start with the oversized easy chair my friend and I had struggled to load through doorways and downstairs in my hometown.He scooped up the chair even easier than I expected and turned toward the building, his eyes asking for directions. I stepped out of the way with the intention of grabbing a box or two to follow him up with when I noticed him hop the front steps two at a time with the easy chair overhead with the seat resting on his head and the back covering his back. I was looking for a glimpse of his arms raised above his head when I saw them. Ricky, (as I'd decided to call him for the next few weeks of masturbatory sessions), had a body part to compare with no other. Every ounce of his physical glory culminated in his calves!Those were lower legs. Oh, my God! I've never been a leg man - - but chalk me up permanently for dark meat! First off, the skin was THE shade of golden brown models usually paint themselves to get. The hair wasn't that kucky, too-long and pubic type. It was just so manly. So thick. Each individual hair looked like it could win a fight. They, too, like the arm hairs were SO erect. They weren't blonde. They were a nice, dark brown. It made me realize this kid would have a delicious bush. The skin had a tiny hint of sweat that caught the light and made the leg look so functional.You should have seen the chords that attached that mother of a calf into his shoe. Only then did I realize the shoe almost looked oversized for his height. Big shoe, big foot, big man. There were two or three parallel chords on each side of the leg that looked like tubes headed into the shoe.The calf looked, all at once, both super high on the leg...like he leaped steps all the time for work outs and altogether longer than any bunch of muscle should be on a leg. Seriously, this was like a biceps flexed on the back of his leg. It looked deep, thick, ripe. I wanted to bite it. To swat at it to feel the girth and the thickness and the glory. God, I wanted to cum on that leg.He turned at the doorway and asked if I was OK. I had subconsciously grabbed the railing to keep myself from moving closer and was actually rubbing myself a tad on said railing. (Come on, don't act like you've never done it.)I told him apartment 3B. He smiled and said, "Cum on." Well, he probably said, "Come on." I had one thing on my mind.I followed him quickly up the stairs. As the afternoon progressed, I followed him like a puppy. I watched those calves work. I know they could have carried Rick, my stuff, and me up the stairs without the assistance of his thighs if only the physiology worked that way. On one step, that magnificent calf would bunch like it was trying to squeeze OJ from itself. On another, it would lengthen and actually flex like it was going to shove the stair down a floor. I looked, more than once, for the dent I was sure would be left in the cement.The skin got darker, the sweat only a little more evident after several trips. I couldn't even hardly admire the abilities of the rest of his body man-handling my stuff because his calves were undeniably in charge of my focus...perhaps my being.And Rick knew it. He enjoyed it. Not in the way a nasty jerk does with a "look at me" attitude, but in a way that showed he liked being noticed and knew he'd be my dream for many a night.He even stopped once and said he had something in his shoe. He set my half-fridge on one landing and turned around to nearly bump into me. He sat down and I saw that sucker flex and bunch and grow - - very literally GROW as he sat and wrested off his shoe, removed the air that was in it, and returned it to his foot. I hadn't seen the calf from the front. The muscle came around and nearly connected in front of the shin bone. Even that bone looked muscular and could tighten. The columnar chords stood out on either side again. And then he rubbed his elfin' leg. Hell, I had to place a knee on the stairs to keep from collapsing. Those big, muscular hands massaging that gigantic, powerful leg. I had an obvious hard on and asked if he'd like a hand. He grinned. He declined. He stood up. He turned around. He grabbed my half-fridge. He flexed those bastards again. And again. One bunched, one stretched. I nearly climaxed in my pants. He finished his job with one more arm load. I paid the man. He waved and ran down the street with those calves screaming my name. Rick moved me.

When Danny moved into his dorm room, Jack had already been there for a couple days. Jack wasn't there when he arrived, so Danny did a little reorganizing. It didn't take him long. He moved the two twin beds together and made them one. Then he scooped all of Jack's clothes out of the closet and tossed them into a heap on the floor. He hung up the clothes he had brought, which were 3 stringer tanks and two pair of sweatpants. He put his UA briefs and a couple of posers into a drawer. He was done by the time Jack showed up. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Jack said, annoyed. "Hey, Roomie," said Danny with a big grin on his face. "You're not my....where's Tip?" Dwayne's sister had made good on her promise to switch Tip to another dorm without either of the jock buddies knowing about it. "Tip decided to move on," said Danny. He was shirtless, and his massive frame filled the small dorm room, making him look even bigger. "You're rooming with me now." He flexed his huge arm in the wall mirror that was next to the closet. Jack was stunned as Danny's peak rose up and up. "24+ inches," said Danny, squeezing his arm harder. "Looks bigger than your quad, little man." Jack gulped hard, seeing that huge arm. No wonder Danny could pile drive him all over the wrestling mats. "What are all my clothes doing on the floor?" asked Jack. "I need the whole closet," said Danny, as he continued to watch himself flex in the mirror. "You've only got a couple things in there!" cried Jack. "They need space to air out," Danny said, rolling his fists and watching his 18" forearms bunch up with ropey muscle. Despite his straightness, Jack started to chub up in his pants at the sight of his roommate's brute size. "Why are the beds pushed together??" asked Jack. "Dude, you think I'm gonna fit on one twin bed? Look at me. I need them both." Danny hit a latspread, and his wings flared out wider than the two beds together. "Where am I supposed to sleep?" "That's not my problem. Anyway, there's a nice pile of clothes in the corner, sleep on that." Danny heaved out his 68" chest, then leaned toward the mirror, and ran his fingers along the striations in his pecs. "Damn it," said Jack, pulling out his phone. In a flash, Danny grabbed Jack's wrist with his left hand and squeezed. Jack's knees almost buckled as he dropped the phone. Danny snagged the falling phone with his right hand, then he shoved it into the deep muscle crevice between his big pecs. The phone nearly disappeared into his cleavage. And when Danny flexed his chest, the phone did disappear into it. Then there was a muffled crunching sound as Jack's phone crumpled from the hard muscle compressing it together. Danny pulled the broken phone from between his mounded pectoral muscles and tossed it across the room. "What are you doing this for, man?" asked Jack, his heart pounding hard, both from fear and from awe. Danny walked into Jack, pushing him back to the wall. He grabbed Jack in a one-handed choke hold, and slid him up the wall until the were eye to eye. Danny leaned into Jack's face until their noses were an inch apart. "Funny," he said, "I used to ask you the same thing." When Danny saw the puzzled look on Jack's face, he said, "You don't remember me?" He leaned in closer, their noses nearly touching. Jack shook his head No. "Danny the Dork doesn't ring a bell for ya?" Jack stared hard into Danny's eyes. He choked out "Dude...no way. That kid was a fat butterball....." But then Jack realized, the face did seem familiar. The jaw had squared off and bulged with muscle. The brow was more pronounced. It sat atop a 24" column of neck muscle. But still. "Dude, no fucking way. How?" "I started lifting," Danny said simply. "You like the look, Jackie? I got 200lbs plus on you now, all of it muscle." "I'm not into it, man," gurgled Jack, starting to squirm. "Oh yeah?" Danny pressed his 8pak abs into Jack's hardon and pinning him more firmly to the wall. "I'm feeling something that says different." "You're choking me, dude," said Jack, trying to change the subject. But he couldn't help bucking against Danny's thick ab wall. The firmness of it felt so good. Danny pushed against him harder. "Dude, I could snap your neck like pretzel stick," said Danny. This made Jack even harder. "I did it 'cause I liked you," choked out Jack. This made Danny let go of his throat hold. Jack stayed pinned against the wall by Danny's chest and abs. "What?" asked Danny. "I liked you, man. I couldn't hang out with you because, you know how it is. So I just teased you a little, that's all." "You call pissing in my shampoo and telling everyone about it is 'teasing'?" said Danny, darkly. He pressed Jack harder into the cinder block wall. "What?" Jack struggled to think. "Oh man, that wasn't me. That was Tip. He just told everyone I did it. He was always doing shit like that. I liked you. I always felt bad for you when you got picked last for every team in gym class. It was either you or that other kid, what was his name?" "Dwayne." "Yeh, him. I picked on you to make you tougher, 'cause that's what my dad always did to me, told me it'd make me a better man. And look how it worked, Danny. I'm a state champ wrestler, I haven't lost a match since freshman year. And now you're a massive muscle beast. Look at the size of you." And with that, Jack put his hands on Danny's bullneck and started groping it. "God man, the strength in your neck alone. Fuck. I bet I can't even choke you." Jack wrapped his hands around Danny's neck and pressed into it with his thumbs. They didn't dent into the muscle at all. "Geezus, man," said Jack. "I got a real strong grip, but it's like I'm pushing on marble." Danny swelled with pride, and his dick swelled too, as Jack tried to choke him harder, with no effect. Danny flexed his neck, and felt Jack's fingers being pushed apart. Farther and farther apart as his neck swelled and his traps rose up and merged with it like an ox yoke. "Dude, your power...." Jack was getting harder too. He leaned into Danny's face and kissed him. Danny was taken aback, but he kissed back. The two of them kissed hard and long. Jack's precum made his dick slide up and down Danny's hard abs more and more smoothly. He groaned as he felt how muscular Danny's tongue was as they French kissed deeper and deeper. When Jack finally broke the kiss, he put his hands on Danny's soccer ball sized delts and said, "Man, make me your bitch. I never done it with a dude before, but I want you to breed me with your size and power. I want it in me." "I hated your guts for so long," said Danny. "No you didn't," said Jack. "You wanted me, just like everybody else. Look at me, man, I'm perfect. And look at you now, you're beyond perfect. You're a fucking god, dude. You got muscle on your muscles. You make me look scrawny." Jack started groping Danny's lats. "Oh man, you're a god..." Danny's heart was beating so hard that it made his gums throb. Holding Jack like this, so close, he realized that the cocky jock was right. He had always wanted him. He lusted for him as much as he hated him. And now he had him in his arms. The emotions were so confusing, but he was so turned on he could barely control himself. He had to fuck something, why not this perfect physical specimen that he could flop around like a rag doll? "Yeah?" said Danny. "You want me to pop your cherry, Jackie?" Jack almost came. "Yeh, man. All my life, I've been the one in control, the alpha. Take that from me, man. Own me. Bruise me up like you did at practice, only deeper." Danny picked Jack up, spun him around, and bent him over on the desktop. He pulled Jack's shorts down around his ankles. Then he pulled off his own shorts, then his jockstrap. His dick popped out, bigger and thicker than Jack's by about half again, his big veins pulsing as they pumped him full staff. He wasn't sure he bought Jack's whole story, but it didn't matter. He was going to fuck him with the full power of his huge glutes and thick tree trunk quads. He spit in his hand and lubed himself up with it. His dick was so sensitive now, he could stroked himself all day. But instead, he scooped up his precum and slathered Jack's hot bubble butt with it. Then he popped his big helmet into the wrestling jock's tight hole. "Fuckkk," both of them groaned out at the same time. Danny sank in deeper. And deeper. Down to the root. Then he started bucking rhythmically, grunting with each buck. Jacked gripped onto the desk, which banged into the doorframe over and over again, harder and harder, until finally, the frame of the door cracked when one of Danny's powerful thrusts smashed the desk into it. Danny lifted Jack off the desk and started air fucking him, his huge powerful arms pumping Jack's 200lbs body up and down on his dick. Up and down he went, while Danny's 415lbs of rock hard beef powerfucked his hard jock ass. The temperature in the small dorm room had soared from their body heat, and sweat poured off both of them, dripping onto the floor. Danny slammed Jack back down on the desk to finish inside of him. He pinned him down with one big hand in the middle of Jack's back. Jack had never felt such complete pleasure. Such total lack of control. Such freedom. Being bred like a bitch, and he loved it. "Danny. Danny. Danny," he said, over and over, as Danny rammed past his prostate again and again, his sweat dripping off his chin and his pecs, all over Jack's back. "Godddam you mutherfucking hot little sonofabitch........" Danny roared as he came deep inside Jack. "Aww geeezus fuckk Danny," moaned Jack, as he busted all over the desk from the feeling of pressure from Danny's big club inside him, and the hot muscle batter filling him up. They stayed the way they were for awhile, both breathing deep and heavy. Danny finally slid out of Jack, and even that feeling almost overwhelmed Jack with pleasure. He stayed on the desktop while Danny picked up one of Jack's shirts from the pile of clothes and wiped his dick off with it. He tossed the shirt aside, then picked up one of Jack's tee shirts and wiped his own sweat off with it. Then he used the tee to wipe off Jack's back. Then he lifted Jack up in his arms like a babe, and laid him on the clothes. "Looks like it's going to be a fun semester," said Danny, flexing his 24+ biceps, fresh sweat rolling down his thick lats as he stood over Jack. "You're telling me," sighed Jack, sinking into his pile of clothes. -- . . -- -- . . -- Meanwhile, back at home, Dwayne was warming up for his fight night by jogging thru the park. He didn't have on his weighted vest, so he felt like he could almost take off and fly, he was feeling so strong. It was going to be Dwayne's first fight, but his gym manager had lined him up with a guy who was 11-0. "If you beat this guy," the manager told him, "you're on your way." Dwayne laughed and said, "Oh, I'm on my way already." As he jogged out of the park and onto the street, he noticed a guy on a bike headed in his direction, riding on the wrong side of the road. Dwayne realized in a second that it was Tip, his former tormentor. "I guess he didn't get his car fixed yet," Dwayne chuckled to himself. He couldn't believe he was running into him again. Dwayne purposefully headed right towards him. When Tip looked up and saw the shirtless Dwayne coming at him, he started to wobble wildly on his bike. He veered up and over the curb, and ran right into a telephone pole, falling off the bike onto the sidewalk. Dwayne sauntered over to him. "You should be more careful, dude," said Dwayne. "And you should wear your helmet tighter. Look, it fell right off." Dwayne leaned over and picked up the bike helmet. "Leave me alone," said Tip, rubbing his scuffed up knee. "Funny, I remember saying that to you a bunch of times in high school," said Dwayne, rolling the helmet around in his hands. "You never listened. And now, your helmet is all busted up." Tip looked at the helmet, and said, "No it isn't, it's barely scratched." "Look a little closer," said Dwayne. He leaned over and put the helmet in Tip's face. Then he snapped it in two with his bare hands. "How about that? Where'd you get this cheap thing?" he said, tossing the broken pieces aside. "Fuck," said Tip. "And your bike...Man, it's completely mangled." "No it isn't," said Tip. "The front tire's just a little bent. I could probably still ride it." "You're not looking close enough," said Dwayne. He picked the bike up, and every muscle on his rippling torso tightened up as he bent the frame in two. "See," he said, "the tires are touching each other. Let me try and fix it." He bent the bike frame back and forth a couple of times, until it snapped apart in his hands. "I hope you didn't pay much for this cheap thing." "Fuck man, I paid $800 dollars for that just last week. Fuck. You gotta pay me back." "Oh, I'm paying you back alright." Dwayne looked Tip over. "You didn't break any bones in your fall, did ya? 'Cause I'm seeing some broken bones." Dwayne leaned over and grabbed Tip's upper arm with his left hand. He lifted Tip up off the sidewalk like a marionette. Then he dug his fingers into Tip's arm muscle. Tip yelled out in pain. "Yeah, this bone might be broken, man, this shouldn't hurt so much when I squeeze it." He yanked Tip's arm back and forth. Then he pulled Tip in close. "Maybe you're right, the bone's not broken. But you're gonna have some real deep tissue bruising on this arm, bro. Look at the veins on my forearm, popping out all over, feeding my muscle with crushing strength. You feeling it, Tippy?" "Yes, yes. God, stop man!" Dwayne let go of Tip's arm. Tip back away quickly, holding his arm, and leaned against the telephone pole. He looked over at the street. "Don't try it," said Dwayne. "Try what?" "Running into the street to get away. First of all, you'd probably get hit by a car. Secondly, I'd snag you in under a second, because I'm 5 times faster than you now." "How'd you know...." "Cause I'm reading your mind, Tippy. And it's scary in there. All full of cobwebs, slowing down your synapses. Nothing much going on except simple vapid thoughts." Tip was starting to get panicky. He thought about his father's gun. "You can try and shoot me, dude, but it won't work," said Dwayne. "This muscle is bulletproof." Dwayne rubbed his hand down his hard muscled torso. "I'd just pick up the bullet and crush it flat between my thumb and index finger." He picked up a stone from the sidewalk, held it in front of Tip's nose, and cracked it with his two fingers. Then he ground it together between his fingertips until it crumbled into grit. Tip flinched back. Dwayne almost wondered if he really might be bulletproof. "Don't worry, dude, I won't hurt you. Although I could. Look at my arm," said Dwayne, bringing up his right arm and flexing it. The biceps peaked up high and hard, with a muscle density that Tip had never witnessed before. "Now watch this," said Dwayne. He stared at his peak, and willed it to grow. He smiled as the top of his arm rose up another half inch, another peak on his already high peak. "Aw yeah," he growled in satisfaction. "And look at the abs, Tippy. They look like they're flexed, don't they?" Tip nodded his head up and down weakly. "Well, they're not." With that, Dwayne clenched down on his abs, and his 8pak exploded with striations, into what he called his 32pak. Tip slid halfway down the telephone pole, stunned, his face even with Dwayne's wall of shred. "That's a sight to behold, isn't it, boy?" Dwayne said, looking down at the deflated bully. Then Dwayne had a thought. He remembered how Mr K went down on his knees after Dwayne wished for it. He wasn't sure at the time if it was just coincidence, that Mr K wanted to crawl over to him on his knees to pleasure him, or if Dwayne had influenced him with his mind. He'd been studying some hypnosis, and they said you couldn't make anyone do something that they didn't want to do, but he wondered. So without saying a word, he stared at Tip, and he thought to himself, "Hit yourself, Tip." And he watched as Tip slowly made a fist with his right hand, then punched himself in the face. "Whoa," said Dwayne. Then, he thought to himself, "Hit yourself harder." And Tip punched himself in the nose, this time harder, and it knocked his head back into the pole. A small tickle of blood came out of his nose. "Holy shit," thought Dwayne. He felt his dick thicken in his shorts. He wondered if he ordered Tip to blow him right here on the sidewalk, if he would do it. But he had no interest in that. He sensed that Tip was an easy mark, not worth much of his effort. Instead, he reached up on the telephone pole behind tip, and grabbed onto the lowest climbing rung. It was rusty with age, but still sturdy. Dwayne bent it back and forth with his hand, until it snapped off. "fuckkk," said Tip, not quite believing his eyes. Dwayne looked at him and thought, "hold out your arm," and Tip's arm went up toward him. Dwayne took the thick rung in both hands, then bent it around Tip's wrist until the ends crossed. "There's a little bracelet for you to remember me by, pinhead," said Dwayne, as he tightened the iron rung around Tip's wrist. "Don't try and take it off though, because if I ever see you without it, my feelings will be real hurt. I might think you're breaking up with me, and I wouldn't like that." The defeated look on Tip's face made Dwayne feel bad for him. Poor dimwitted jock never thought anyone would get the best of him. Payback can be a bitch. "Why don't you get going now, dude, before I use your bike frame to decorate you some more." Dwayne picked up the busted frame and handed it to Tip. "I have a fight to get ready for," said Dwayne. The befuddled Tip watched the powerfully muscled former nerd jog away down the street. He couldn't believe he was ever able to pick on him. He wondered who would be stupid enough to step into the ring against such a freak.

Hello everyone. I'm really sorry, I've been busy the last couple of weeks and didn't really know how I wanted this story to continue. But I have an idea of where I want this story to go, don't worry. If anyone has any suggestions, then please let me know as I love hearing your ideas . Thanks again for waiting and I truly hope you enjoy! Part I Part VI Part II Part VII Part III Part VIII Part IV Part IX Part V Part X Changing my Life Part XI We explained everything to the doc. from the incident that happened at the party, to the growth that happened in the shower. The doc listened to every detail. Afterwards he told us that he was shocked to hear about Max taking all the pills. He also warned us that there was no way we could end his growth now. He wanted to see Max for himself. He made us an appointment for the next morning. After our conversation, Max and I went to bed. After the shower incident, I had no problem falling asleep. Neither did Max. That night I dreamed about Max and me, lying on the sofa in the living room. I was lying on top of Max’s thick legs. We were both looking at the television when all of a sudden, I heard him moan. I looked up to see his face. He was biting his lips and closing his eyes. Looking down, I saw his shirt tightening and I felt my head tilting higher and higher. Was he growing? I asked myself when I heard an all too familiar sound… Riiiiiiiip! His bulging pecs pushed the fabric to its limits and exploded out of them. His head was rising up and up, whilst his muscles expanded in every direction. His veins were visible again and they too grew thicker. His moaning increased and he started sweating and panting at this point. I sat up to see his beautiful growing body. I could hear the sofa creaking underneath his growing form. “I can’t take it anymore!” he said when he ripped of his tight shorts off. It didn’t take long before he started working on his growing dick. It seemed to be three times the size of my own. And I was already big down there. His balls expanded and started swelling, making room for gallons of cum to eventually erupt out of a mammoth sized dick. His head was now pushing against the ceiling and with a loud crack the sofa broke. Max’s giant arse was now digging into the floor whilst his head was breaking the ceiling. I still sat on a broken sofa, looking up at a magnificent beast. There wasn’t much I could do then to stare in awe and work on my own growing member. Somehow, I didn’t feel as scared as I used to be. It felt like this was something that I wanted to happen just as much as he did. I got my dick out and started stroking it. It was already painfully hard and leaking pre. Then I heard a loud crash in front of me. Max’s feet tore down the walls to make room for a still growing body. Max’s head eventually broke the ceiling and grew bigger and bigger! “I need some help here babe!” he said in a deeper voice in-between moans. I got up and climbed on top of his bulging legs. Finally, I was in front of the most beautiful dick in the world. I didn’t hesitate and ran up to it. My tongue was worshipping his giant meat. “Oh god, I love you so much!” he screamed looking at me. I got so horny looking at his gorgeous face mounted on to a hot bodybuilders body. He got his giant hand up flexed for me. “You like that babe?” he said whilst winking at me. I came looking at his giant biceps. My cum looked like a little drop compared to his huge drops of pre. It didn’t take long before I heard him scream one last time before a hose of cum hit the ceiling and landed on top of me. He didn’t show any sign of stopping and the floor became a white, hot pool of cum. His legs disappeared and shortly after, I found myself swimming. I looked behind me to see that his giant dick was still erupting cum. Then I was just centimetres away from the ceiling. I held my breath before the cum completely filled the room. I jumped up in bed when I awoke from my arousing dream. I first looked next to me to find Max, still at the same height as before (well you know, still the big version). I looked the opposite side to look at the window. The sun was rising. Beams of light hit my face. My phone buzzed as I saw a notification, reminding me that we had our appointment within 3 hours. I tossed my blanket and wanted to stand up only to find out that my underpants were drenched in cum. I smiled at the sight and walked across the bed, where Max was sleeping. I kneeled in front of him and gave him a kiss on his forehead. “Good morning, sunshine.” I said smiling at him. He awoke with his gorgeous smile on his face and said in his manly deep voice “Morning beautiful.” He tossed the blankets aside only to show me his wonderful body. Glistering with sweat, his bulging pecs were bigger than ever, his abs were even deeper and broader, his titanic sized arms were bigger than I remembered, veins popping up all over his body! He slowly sat up straight on the bed. The wooden frame creaking under his enormous weight. Placing his feet on the ground, I noticed just how big they were. One leg was almost as big as both of mine together (I think I mentioned that before but still)! Not to mention his big dick… it was as long as my forearm! And it wasn’t even hard yet! As he stretched his giant frame, he stood up… and up… and up. I couldn’t get my eyes off of him. He was so big and handsome. To think that this gorgeous figure was my boyfriend, MY lover, it was beyond my beliefs. Still mesmerised at his body I couldn’t speak; “I erm…. I g… got a noti…” before I could finish my sentence, he added; “Yeah I know, I heard your phone too.” Then he walked towards me and tossed his meaty arm around me and squeezed my ass before giving me the most passionate kiss. I could just feel how much more dominant he has gotten in the last couple of weeks. I don’t mind it though. The thought of him being bigger and stronger but still being so gentle and kind, turned me on so much. After the kiss he looked me in my eyes and said “Do you know how happy I am to have you in my life?” I just melted when he said it, my feet were like jelly. He grabbed me, lifted me up and carried me downstairs. I made him a very big meal, starting with 3 eggs, bacon, some sandwiches, sausages, yoghurt and a glass of milk. He ate all of it and afterwards grabbed some leftovers from the fridge. More and more I was feeling pleased with him growing. Seeing him devour so much food was so delightful to watch. When we were finished, we went back upstairs to freshen up and get dressed for our appointment. Max, however, had trouble containing his strength. He broke the doorframe when entering the bathroom, he broke his toothbrush and comb, knocked the light fixture to the ground and broke the handle from the wardrobe. It was exciting but scary at the same time. Being unaware of his strength even made him a bit frightened. In the wardrobe, I helped Max dressing up. The clothes I bought for him that were once loose enough for him, now seemed just big enough or skin-tight. His socks were stretched out and his briefs didn’t hide anything. His dickhead was poking out of them whilst his derrière ripped them off every time he sat down. His trousers were fine, the buttons were hard to close but it worked once we put on his belt. Shirts weren’t an option. The buttons flew off like his pecs were firing them right at me. So we tried just a regular T-shirt. It fitted him nicely. Finally we added some Nike shoes and his look was completed. I backed up for a second to see his entire body with his clothes on. He looked good but you could definitely see that he was no ordinary man. You could easily mistake him for an athlete or a bodybuilder. I must have been staring to long because Max said; “Is my personal shopper pleased with his choice of clothing?” I laughed and replied “You look good Max, you really do.” He walked up to me and kissed me once more. “Thanks to you babe.” I blushed and smiled at his gorgeous face. We packed our stuff and were on our way to the doc. In the car we listened to some of our favourite music. Max and I had different tastes in music. He liked listening to rock whilst I enjoyed pop music. Though we both enjoyed some Michael Jackson, Meghan Trainor and Britney Spears. Singing along was one of the things I enjoyed doing in the car. It made the trip more enjoyable. Max, however, had to put on a show. Singing ‘Hit me baby one more time’, he raised his voice to mimic Britney’s. But due to his much deeper voice, it made for a laughable performance. These were the moments I looked into his eyes and realised that, even though he’s still growing, he’s still that sweet childish boy I fell in love with. Soon we entered Mr. Petrov’s house. Not much has changed since the last time we were here. I knocked on the door and heard from the other end a familiar voice, “I’m coming!” The doc. said. He opened the front door and let us enter. When we entered, I could hear the wooden floor creaking under Max’s weight. I knew that the house was old so I was somewhat worried that Max might break something. However we didn’t spend much time in the doc.’s living area. He directed us back towards his lab. When we entered his lab, there was a chair in the middle of the room with some cables above it. I saw Max’s face. He seemed frightened and sad at the same time. I tried to comfort him by resting my hand on his massive shoulder. He looked back at me and smiled once again. we walked up close to the chair. The doc. asked him to remove his clothes except his briefs. Afterwards he Max looked at the doc. for further instructions. “Max, please take a seat.” The doc. ordered. Max did what he was told and the doc attached the wires to his body. Placing them on his head, neck, shoulders, arms, chest, back, … “What is going to happen to me?” Max asked in a sad tone. “I’ll have to take some samples and check your body in order to know what is going to happen with you Max.” The doc said in a serious tone. We exchanged looks and shortly after he asked me to go into the room behind me. I looked around to find a small door with a mirror besides it. “Max, Jake and I will be in that room over there checking your condition. You’ll feel a few shocks but don’t worry it’ll only hurt for a second okay?” the doc. said. Max nodded and looked back at me again. I walked up to him and caressed his cheek. “You’ll be fine babe, I know you will.” I said before giving him a long kiss. I was guided to the small control room where the doc closed the door and turned his head towards me. “Listen Jake, after you told me all about what had happened, I had to bring the both of you here.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “The Max that you know and love, won’t be the same after this treatment.” He said sitting down on the chair opposite the window. “Why! What is going on doc.?!” I was getting really mad and confused now. The doc. sighted and continued; “The encounter you had in the shower with Max, those will only become more aggressive and they’ll happen more frequent. It’s one of the side effects that can occur during this procedure. He would have been able to control this urge by only taking one pill. But since he took all of them, he probably won’t be able to in the future.” He said looking down at his notes. I had to sit down and think about what he just said. I was speechless and sad. Tears began to form in my eyes. “Can’t he learn to control this urge… or can’t you give him some medication to calm him down when it happens?” I started asking, trying to find a solution for his problem. “Listen Jake. He’ll only become stronger and bigger. There’s little we can do about it now.” He said starting his computer and connecting it with this machine in front of us. “Let’s check his body first.” He said. I looked in up to see that the mirror actually was window from the other side. I could see Max all wired up and anxious. I felt like I could scream. If it were true that the Max I know would turn into a beast or a lover that could kill me, was just devastating. I could hear a ding sound and looked down to see a body image on the doc’s computer. It was already recognizing Max’s body and it showed where the cables were connected. I don’t know a lot about technology but it was quite impressive to see. In the left corner of the screen, I could see his blood pressure and his heartbeat along with his weight and height. “I’m going to give him shocks on the places you see here on the screen. I’ll be able to make a rough sketch on how big Max will grow. If you don’t want to look, I understand.” The doc said looking at me. I was a bit confused as to why I didn’t want to see Max but shortly after my answer was given. The doc. selected the dot on the shoulder and it automatically gave Max a shock. I saw him scream and closing his eyes whilst his body was fighting against the pain. Tears started rolling down my cheeks as I saw my boyfriend being tortured. I wanted it to end and walked towards the door but was stopped by the doc. “You can’t leave Jake, I know that this must be killing you inside but try to understand that I only want to help you guys.” He said holding my hand really tight in order for me to stay put. I hesitated but eventually nodded and walked back to my place. However I couldn’t watch Max. It was too painful to see him in this state. After the doc. finished, the computer was loading some kind of a chart along with some percentages. I didn’t have time to find out what it said as the doc. placed the computer on his table and took out a syringe. “Is he afraid of syringes?” he asked before walking out. “A little but I’ll calm him down.” I said wiping away my tears and exiting the chamber. As I walked towards Max, it was so hard to see him. He looked exhausted. “Max are you okay?” I asked trying to hold my tears back. “Yeah, I’m okay now.” He said positioning his big frame in a more comfortable position whilst the doc. detached the wires. He looked at me and I looked back at Max. I knew what was coming next. “Okay babe, the doc has to take some blood to run some tests okay. Can you be brave for me?” I asked. I knew he was brave enough already but I also knew how much he hated syringes. He took my hand and squeezed it whilst the doc took his blood. He squeezed my hand so much I had to get down from the pain. “Ah! Max please you’re hurting me!” I screamed. Max looked shocked and released my flimsy hand. When the doc. had the sample he told us that the results would be completed once he gave the machine Max’s blood (or something like that I don’t know exactly what he said). He went back into the chamber and gave us a moment alone. Max tried standing up but he was so tired that even that was hard for him to do. So instead I sat down on top of him and hugged him. “I’m so sorry.” He said and started crying “I never should’ve taken all those pills at once.” I couldn’t hold back and started crying too. “It’s okay babe. I understand why you did it. But we have to be strong now.” I said in between sobs. Then it was silent. We were both so comfortable in each other’s arms that we didn’t need to talk. We were there for each other. That was the most important right now. The doc. returned shortly after and looked surprisingly happy. He approached us with some papers and started talking to us. Max’s body seemed to be growing steadily and would probably reach a height of four to six meters! This was a bit hard to take in. However his body also seemed to have very healthy blood cells. Every time they found a virus or an illness they eliminate them… he believed it had something to do with a self-healing process. “Max, I had my doubts but I think it’s safe to say that you are going to be fine.” He said smiling at the both of us. I never felt this happy in my life. My boyfriend would be okay! I hugged him and kissed him. We started crying again but this time they were tears of happiness. “However, I still want to warn you!” The doc. said in a more serious tone again. “You have to learn to control your strength. If you don’t, you might end up hurting the ones you love.” He said looking at me. I knew exactly what he meant but before I could say anything, Max started talking. “I will doc. I don’t want to hurt anybody. Especially not this little one.” He said playfully squeezing my ass. “Good, now I will keep in contact with you and will require a weekly check-up.” He said leading us back to the front door. I thanked him and told him we would update him on Max’s transformation this time. He thanked us and told us that if we needed anything or needed any help, we could always contact him.

Oh boy, it has been quite a while since I 've worked on this story. This update comes in two parts. This one is the plot-heavy one. Feel free to skip through at your leisure if that is not your jam. Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V -- The Well We have lingered in the chambers of sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown. - T.S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" The clouds were painted flat and grey against the sky, leaving a muddy warmth in their wake. The pale morning light that made it through lent a calm air to the morning, the blue-hued rays filtering through the needles of trees. It was a day like any other. I waited outside Charlie’s house for him to leave for class. I had no plan. Short of makeshift handcuffs, I was out of ideas. He could probably knock me out at any time, and I had no idea how he did it. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask nicely. He opened the door wearing a white wife beater that was just tight enough to show his abs through the fabric. When his verdant eyes turned to face me he looked amused. “You look different, little man,” he said. I stared at him blankly. I wasn’t sure what to do. He chuckled. “What is it you want from me anyways? You made your wish and it has nothing to do with mine.” He said. “What are you talking about?” I inquired bluntly. “I never made any wish. Frankly I have no idea what’s going on…although I’m not complaining, I guess,” I stated, rubbing my thick hands across the deep, shredded crevices of my abs. God, what was happening to me. “Sorry, that’s become a force of habit lately,” I mumbled. “You’ve never been to the well?” Charlie asked. “No. What well?” I asked impatiently. “Then what happened to you?” He seemed genuinely interested, the amusement on his face giving way to curiosity. And he clearly knew a lot more than I did. It couldn’t hurt to share. I described the metal bug, the insatiable desire to lift, the ravenous hunger, the euphoric growth, the second bite, and the dream. Well, the relevant parts of the dream. I also left out the parts about Delilah. He gazed at me intently before breaking into a smile. Then he took a deep breath. “Well, so much for class today. We’re going on a field trip.” Charlie said, dropping his backpack inside the door and then shutting it for good. He stretched and I could see the soft shadows of his triceps that I had felt in my dream. I was bewildered. Apparently my ignorance was enough to warrant his help. “Get ready for a bit of a hike. It’s not too far, but more than a quick walk.” After that he started ahead off without me, and I jogged to catch up. I followed him quietly as he led me through the neighborhood to a trail into the forest. It was a path I had run a few times before. Tall evergreens surrounded us, soft and inviting in the pale morning light. I spoke up once and he looked at me stolidly, telling me to “Just wait until we get there.” The rest of our trek was conducted in the relative silence of the forest. Only the frogs made sounds as they fell asleep for the day. I tried to focus on our surroundings instead of gaping awkwardly at his chiseled backside. I worried he would catch me staring and knock me out. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Squirrels ran through the leaf litter and up the trees, eying us cautiously as we made our way up the path. After about forty minutes we came to a unique collection of ovoid rocks that were stacked against one another, and he led us off the path to wade through the remnants of a trail overrun with forest scrub. I was forced to watch him as he guided us through, and I found that the longer I focused on him the less I was able to focus on anything else. There was a certain magnetism about the way he moved, confident and alluring. My eyes ate up his every motion hungrily. Everything about him was perfect. His back sculpted like the smoothest stone, his walnut colored hair reflecting beautifully in the sunlight, the beefy heads of his calves separating every time he took a stop, the sweat rolling off his caramel tanned skin, his clothes hugging his tight body with every motion. Amongst all the beauty of the forest, including my own, he outshined us all, a guiding light in the darkness. His radiance enraptured me, made me feel whole. A branch swept across my face, forcing my attention away from Charlie. The trance was lifted, and the rest of the world came rushing back into view. I felt on my face where I had been struck but could not find a cut or any pain. Another part of the transformation, I guessed. I wondered silently if anything could hurt me. When I looked back up at Charlie he seemed like an ordinary person again. Still just as attractive, but I was no longer transfixed by him. I found that if I stared for too long, however, I started to lose clarity again. It was best to focus elsewhere and follow the sound of him moving through the scrub. The last of the wildflowers were wilting in the mild summer heat. Another half an hour of trekking found us in a small clearing that was mostly shaded save for a few sharp slivers of sunlight that pierced through. Charlie stopped and took a long, deep breath. Leaf litter from the surrounding trees covered the ground, but few plants grew here. The ones that did had long, thin leaves almost like needles and vibrant red flowers that let their stamens out towards the ground. In the center of the clearing stood a stone structure resembling a well. The clean cut stones were a deep, mottled grey that I did not recognize. The well overflowed with water, and it spilled into a shallow pool of the same stone that encircled the structure. The water that flowed out seemed unnaturally dark, like it refused to let any light leave its shallow prison. A wooden covering was held by thin posts ornately carved with various animal and plant designs. It looked like it had been built long after the primary structure by someone other than the original architect. A small wooden bucket hung from the roof as well, although it did not seem to serve much purpose. “Welcome to the wishing well,” Charlie said with false ceremony. “I…don’t get it, honestly. Why are we here?” I said, perplexed. “Just go up to it. You’ll have to take your shoes off and put your feet into the water to look inside. Then you’ll see.” I agreed reluctantly. The whole structure, although simple enough, gave me an ominous feeling. Light and sound seemed to move oddly through the clearing because of it, sometimes enhanced and sometimes subdued but never what was expected. The well itself had a certain Lovecraftian alienness about it, as though whoever built it had tried to create something familiar but had failed in the details and instead made something entirely foreign. I steeled myself for whatever fate awaited me, taking my shoes off before the water. What the hell, I thought, rubbing my cheek where the branch had hit me. I am practically invincible now, anyways. The inky water was smooth and cool on my feet. The flow from the well gave me the impression of wading through the tide rather than standing in a pool, and I noticed that the water drained into holes along the pool’s stone edges. The closer I came to the well the more everything around it seemed to go dark in my vision. Soon the only thing I could see was the stone and the water, and my feet moving through it. The rest of the world had faded into a giant expanse, endless, vast, and humming with a vibrancy of life despite its emptiness. I rested my hands on the well, feeling the cool rush of dark water flow over them, and looked inside. Images swirled and began to take shape and form against the darkness. Soon I was a part of them, as though I was in a dream. I could not tell at first if the visions I saw were scenes from the future or memories. At times they felt like both. Each one was a snapshot from my life, not always in order but generally progressing forward. They came slowly at first, then faster and faster until they began to blur together. Important moments and small moments rubbed up against one another in a ceaseless barrage: graduation from university, a gentle kiss from a stranger, my election to head of an engineering firm, the desert view from atop a tall rock, my sister’s funeral. In every image I was the same age, and as time sped past I was oblivious to its effects. I traveled the world and experienced more than most do in a lifetime, summiting mountains and skyscrapers, exploring though canyons and across highways until I felt there was no more to see. I met others, many of them, from all walks of life. I talked with them, laughed with them, loved them, fucked them. I grew from each of them, and I cherished every one of them. In the midst of my travels, in a dark city alley lined with high adobe walls, I found a mirror. The humid air and sandy floor of the alley faded as I gazed into it. The reflection was my own, but I had grown to titanic proportions. At least twice my current size, and all muscle. The shelf of my pecs eclipsed the sun for those who stood under me, and the strength a single arm was enough to topple buildings. I was invincible, the epitome of eroticism and power. In the mirror’s visions, I filled my time with prodigious displays of my boundless strength, lifting ships with the flick of my wrist, stopping bullets and tanks that would stand in my way, eating and drinking and fucking whomever I pleased. I was indomitable in the world of men, a god for others to worship. I looked away from the mirror and continued on my own path. But the visions from the mirror stuck with me, haunting me. Time continued its march and I moved with it effortlessly, but the others did not. I watched my friends and loved ones die, and new ones sprang up to take their place. The stars continued to turn overhead, but I stopped counting the revolutions of the earth and the numbers of days that passed. Time was just an excuse for everything not to happen all at once. I watched the world change as my body refused to age. The seas rose and dried up, technologies advanced beyond what I thought possible, the natural world around us dwindled and was restructured in our image, countries rose and fell in what felt like minutes, and soon we left the earth behind. Eventually I jumped across stars with the rest of our species through the grandness of the cosmos, watching patiently what became of us as we traipsed from galaxy to galaxy. And just when I felt myself start to slip into a boundless infinity a hand pulled me out from the well. I inhaled sharply, as though I had just been rescued from the bottom of a pool. “What did you see?” he asked calmly. “I was immortal. I saw everything.” Charlie regarded me cautiously. “That’s a new one. Must have been why you were out for so long. “Look, just be careful. The well shows you the wish you want, but it doesn’t always grant it. Mostly it works out, but sometimes it fails and things get tricky. That’s probably where your bugs came from, too. Whoever made that wish may not have even been bitten.” I paused, considering what monstrous incarnation of eternity would spring forth from the well to grant my own wish. Finally I regained the courage to speak. “What did you wish for?” I asked. “I haven’t. I’m like you. The product of someone else’s wish.” I stared at him blankly. “When my mom was young she found this well by accident. Just like you and everyone who comes across it, it showed her what she wanted most, although she didn’t know it at the time. She says she saw the most beautiful woman in the world, one that no man could resist. When she asked the well to make it real, a branch grew from the water and offered her a fruit. “She got her wish. Not only was she beautiful, but men became obsessed with her. She drove them mad. And when she spoke, she could ask them to do anything she wanted.” “Like what you did with me?” I asked. He nodded. She had asked to become Helen but had become a Siren instead. And apparently it was heritable. “The way her wish was granted, she never knew if men loved her or were just lost in a trance. But she managed to fall in love with my dad, somehow, and they lived together long enough to have me. “Then one day while he was working on his car he cut his arm pretty deep, and when he looked at her she was a stranger. It took him a long time just to remember who she was, and after he couldn’t even look at her. They split after that. That’s the short version anyhow.” “What happened to her?” I asked. “She still lives here with me. She rarely goes out now. Too many eyes watching. Now she only talks with the others who have been to the well. Most of them online. They tend to scatter.” “What about you, then? Have you ever looked in the water?” “No, I haven’t. Too risky. I don’t have it even a quarter as bad as she does,” he said, gesturing down to his body, “And you can barely even look at me for more than five minutes.” I blushed. I wasn’t sure if he had noticed. “I have my whole life to think about what my wish will be. There’s no rush.” “So I could wish for everything to go back to normal?” “I don’t know. Whoever or whatever built this well doesn’t seem to need it anymore, so we can’t ask questions. We only know what we know from the wishes we’ve made. “Look, I only brought you here so you could understand what’s happening to you. It probably would have drawn you here anyways, even if I hadn’t shown you. That’s what happened to me, sort of like your dream. I can’t stop you from making your wish, but you should know it doesn’t always go according to plan.” I thought to argue, but it was useless. He had made up his mind. And so we left the clearing and headed home in silence once more. The siren’s son led me from the water, safe to dry land. -- The night was dark from thick cloud cover and an absent moon. I had spent all day packing, throwing away most of my clothes that wouldn’t fit anymore. I was already a day and a half late, and I tried to rush but I found it hard to focus. My mind was preoccupied with the well. My head buzzed with the wish that I would make, what, if anything, I would tell Delilah, and the behemoth that had stared back at me in the mirror. If I wanted to, I could ask for it. But that was someone else’s wish, I had to remind myself. Although, even still… I loved the way the downcast lighting reflected off of my body, the way every single crevice formed by my impressive musculature made a deep shadow. I thought about how I could make men cum just by letting them worship me, how even my fingers had the strength to bend metal with ease, and how the hard flesh under my skin was now akin to the metal that I lifted. Pre leaked ceaselessly from my hard cock as I subtly flexed and explored what my body had become. -- My flashlight barely lit the forest path as I made my way out to the well. I got lost a few times, having to turn back before I found the rock formation I was looking for. I stumbled my way through the trail, freshly beaten by our steps from this morning, and found my way to the clearing. The red flowers glowed with a soft phosphorescence in the darkness of the night. Only a few scarce stars were visible overhead. I took a deep breath, removed my shoes and placed my feet into the water. The temperature had not changed, and against the cool night air it was warm on my feet. The infinite expanse opened up to me again, my surroundings even darker than the night I came from. I saw the same visions pass before my eyes, including the mirror. And when it was done I stood silently for a few moments, the weight of eternity on my shoulders. Then I made my wish.

Oh boy, it has been quite a while since I 've worked on this story. This update comes in two parts. This one is the sexy one. A short summary of previous parts will be posted below. Part I Part II Part III Part VI -- Metamorphosis As soon as I closed my eyes I found myself drifting in a vast darkness. Everything was black and empty except for a dull, growing warmth inside me, like I was on the cusp of a fever. Time was hard to gauge here. I passed what could have been minutes or hours through the emptiness before the pulse in my veins began to rise. Slowly at first, but then stronger and stronger until it was near bounding. At the same time my muscles swelled and tightened to their own rhythm, every fiber burgeoning with more power from each flexion. The pleasure of each muscle filling out to its rightful proportion was exhilarating, almost orgasmic. Pre leaked out of me in streams and floated aside me through the abyss. I was lost in a tranquil euphoria, becoming something greater. More immeasurable time passed before the transformation slowed to a halt, and I realized that I was still dreaming. The darkness faded into a blue sky, my body falling gently into a field of tall grass. I opened my eyes slowly. The sun shone radiantly, casting its bright light over my body and a few crimson flowers that each rose like its own little sun from between the long blades. The warmth of the grass pressed against my now cool skin, the bristles soft against my hard flesh. I laid there calmly, basking in the afterglow of my metamorphosis. When I lifted my head and sat up, Charlie stared down at me. His expression was almost mischievous, like a little kid caught doing something he knew he shouldn’t. His feet dragged through the tall blades as he stepped towards me, pushing me back down with his foot as his body towered over mine. Even when he lifted his foot his confident gaze was enough to hold me in place. Something about him was spellbinding, commanding. My titanic strength was useless before it. He kneeled down on top of me and I felt the softness of the grass on my back mirror the smoothness of his skin on mine. Every muscle on his body was solid, smooth, and flawlessly proportioned. Running my hands across his triceps I felt each curvature as they flexed with the simplest motion. His eyes shone marvelously and effortlessly. Our lips touched. The physical separation between us faded as we continued to explore each other. I guided my hands along his burly arms while our lips played with each other’s, and then he ran his nose thorough the deep crevice of my solid abs, his fingers gently toying with my erect nipples until he brought his tongue back up to meet them. In an instant I rolled us over and pressed him down, forcing my tongue into his mouth. I was stronger, and it thrilled me. I pinned his arms on the ground and held his legs down with my massive quads, rubbing my dick slowly on top of his. Our abs slid across each other as my dick throbbed in anticipation of my load. Suddenly his lips left mine and he gazed into my eyes with a sort of smug expression. He guided me gently with his hands, and I could not help but yield to his touch. He flipped us back over. He stared at me again with that overwhelming confidence, and then started to kiss his way down to my cock. I leaned my back onto the stone well that had appeared behind us, as objects sometimes do in a dream. Just as he started to reach past my apollo’s belt, I let out a deep groan… -- I awoke to rain pounding on the roof. It was heavy and full and warm with summer. I stared at the fine grains of the wood of the ceiling for a long, hard minute before I was convinced that I wasn’t dreaming anymore. My heavy breathing and the drops on the windowpanes were the only sounds that filled the room. The paltry, muggy light of dusk gave me just enough light to see the vague outlines of the walls. Apparently I had slept for a long time. The blankets had tangled from my tossing and turning, and I carefully unraveled my cocoon of sheets to find freedom. A sharp inhale filled my lungs, my chest expanding outward proudly to let the air rush in. Even without seeing it, I felt thicker, stronger, more powerful. My muscles moved like steel under my skin. When I flexed them I felt as though I had the strength to lift buildings and move mountains. The sheets tore as I gripped them in anticipation. Fuck. I flipped the light switch on to guide my way to the bathroom, swelling with the suspense of my image in the mirror. To my horror, I found my body hadn’t changed at all. My heart fell out of my chest. All of my work had been for nothing. My cock head begged to differ, however, flaring larger than any I had ever seen and standing atop a dick that was one and a half times its original size. I had gone from just above average to well endowed, with thickness to match. When I touched it lightning ran through my body. But I held on, stroking gently. Watching myself jack off in the mirror was still something to behold. I lifted my 18 inch arms and watched each belly stand out in relief, chiseled, rock solid, perfection. My abs crunched down and formed a cobblestone eight pack. Fuck, I was starting to get weak in the knees. I grabbed onto the shower certain rod for support. Instead the metal bent in my hand, removing the rod from its holds. I fell on my butt and the rod clanged on the floor. Without getting up, I picked up the warped metal and gave it a quick bend with just my right hand. My left stayed dedicated to stroking off as I twisted the metal into whatever shape I pleased, watching the muscles on my forearms danced as I contorted it like it was nothing more than a piece of paper. It was exhilarating, knowing the strength I had in just my fingers. My cum reached the ceiling from the floor as I came. Good thing I was just tall enough to reach up there now. I kept playing with the rod as my cock finished its final spurts. A note for the iron bug manual: a full bite grants you Priapus’ cock and Hercules’ strength. Good to know. And then I had an idea. -- Two hours later I found myself in a big city, noticing the streetlights' reflection off of my old beat up truck and a few scattered puddles on the ground. The apartment building I was looking for seemed to rise up stoically out of the cement, featureless and foreboding for its onlookers. I felt the cool, fresh night air run across my hard flesh as I walked inside. The lights in the lobby flickered fluorescent and bright, in stark contrast to the melancholy world I had just left. A shell of safety and warmth. I took the elevator to the third floor and walked the long, sparsely decorated hallway down to room 304. When he opened the door he smiled at me. I’m sure he was surprised at what he found, since I had used pictures from two transformation cycles ago to find him. “Come on in,” he said, his deep voice complementing the hypermasculine stature that stood proudly before me. Head shaved, white skin, shirt that looked tailored to show off the size of his chest and the slimness of his waist. I guessed he was between 32 and 35, his face showing the subtle signs of aging that were combated by a life dedicated to lifting and fitness. He turned around and left the door open. I liked the way he walked. It was a mixture of that arrogant jock sort of saunter and the stilted, muscle-bound waddle of bodybuilders. His confidence was exuberant. That was going to be fun to break. He was just finishing dinner. In a large red cast iron pan, some inedible-looking green paste was still frying. He offered some to me. I looked at him and gave him a sly smile. “I don’t really watch what I eat,” I said, my expression falling back to the cold, elusive demeanor that I had adopted since the metamorphosis. He started to coach me on the impacts of diet on fitness and health and my attention drifted. I noticed his chest bounce every time he made a gesture. I could tell that he liked the way it stretched the fabric. Every movement was proud, calculated. I got up and moved towards him, him still going on about the lean muscle he had gained on his current diet. I took his wrist in my hand. It was solid, doubtlessly from years of lifting and perfecting his body. I wanted him to resist me, to give him a hint of how this night was going to go, but his hand moved with mine. I lifted my shirt and placed his rough fingers along my abs. “Does it feel like I need to go on a diet?” I said. He whistled, and a horny grin followed. “Okay, fair point,” he said. “Let’s head to the bedroom,” I said. He didn’t hesitate any further. “Wait, I need to use the bathroom first,” I lied. “Sure. It’s just around the corner there,” he said, pointing behind me. I watched him practically skip his way down the hall. He had a nice ass, perky and firm. Hi torso twisted to get through the doorframe. Meanwhile I took a quick detour to the garage. I got lucky. It was full of weights. I took a few minutes making preparations for the night. When I came back I found him with his shirt off, trying to look casual but clearly giddy with anticipation. I had to admit, his body was even more impressive without clothes on. Slightly marred by age, he still had a tight six pack and his lats stuck out noticeably from his sides, making his waist seem more trim. I could even see some of the striations in his pecs. He could compete as a lightweight bodybuilder if he wanted to, and maybe he had. “You like?” he said, lifting up his bicep. Probably over 18 inches. Bigger than mine. I smirked at him. “Sure, it’s alright.” He must have thought I was being sarcastic. “Where do you wanna start, big guy?” I said, playing to his pride. Having waited long enough, he pressed his lips into mine, softly. His lips were practiced, and his tongue moved skillfully in and out of my mouth. He led me over to the bed, but before he could lay on top of me I flipped us around and pushed him down onto it. He scrambled to take off his shorts and underwear and I took off my shirt slowly, letting him savor every moment of the reveal. I may not have gained much in size, but there was something of an unspeakable strength and dignity to my body. Every part of me was like iron, the flesh just barely containing the strength that lay under it. I stood over him for a few silent seconds before I revealed the metal bar I had kept hidden in my waistband. Normally it would be twice as long and more suited to hold weights, but I had torn it in half for what I had in mind. His expression was a mixture of confusion and curiosity. I bent the bar into a U shape right in front of him. It was like wire. I barely even felt the resistance. Without warning him I grabbed his wrists with my hands. He was in shock for the first few moments, but then he remembered that he should struggle. It was kind of cute. He thought he was strong, that I couldn’t possible keep him in my grip. It turned out the power in my fingers was more than he had in his entire upper body. I took the bar and put it around his burly wrists, clamping the metal shut with just one hand. The horror on his face was juxtaposed with his throbbing erection. Even if he didn’t understand what was happening he sure liked it. “How do you feel?” I asked, crushing off the loose ends of the bar and tightening down the space between his hands to form makeshift handcuffs. “What are you?” he responded, exasperated. “I honestly don’t know,” I replied. “Does it really matter?” I noticed that with his hands stuck together it made his chest stick out. Even while he was indisposed, the fullness and definition in his pecs were still admirable. My dick hardened at the thought that I had incapacitated him with so little effort. I reached down for his cock that was sticking out of his boxers. He was leaky. Hell, I would be too in a situation like this. There wasn’t a single part of my body that wasn’t worthy of salivating over. I threw him a few poses while I had him as my captive audience. Then I drew his throbbing member from its cotton sheath and whistled at what I found. At least eight inches, hard as stone, head throbbing with anticipation. Gaining momentum, I lifted him up off the bed and hefted him over my shoulder. Then I pressed him up with one hand. The metal dragged along my back as I lifted him, and I could feel the indentations my fingers had left. He stared at me with an expression of wonder and lust. I smiled at him and brought him back down towards me, allowing our lips to meet. Then I worked my tongue down his neck, past his nipples, across his abs until they met the head of his cock. I was pleasantly surprised that he lasted for more than a few minutes with my tongue wrapped around his head. I took my time, never letting him drop an inch even as he started to leak. When I felt him getting close I held him with both hands around his waist and started rubbing his cock against my chest. The idea must have really riled him up, because he came almost immediately. I laughed as his rather prodigious volume splashed up against my chin. Some of it found its way to my lips. It was sweet. I tossed him on the bed to marinate in his own juices while I went to wash off. But before I got in his shower, I spread the substantial volume of semen that I had earned across my chest. I liked the “oiled” look, the way the lighting made every fiber in my already awesome chest stand out even more. Turning the water on, I took turns bouncing them up and down as I washed them. I went slowly, admiring the absolute control I had over every muscle in my body. Soon I was touching myself all over… My cum stained his ceiling. I was sure he wouldn’t mind. When I got back to the room he lifted his bound hands towards me and begged: “Please, officer?” I obliged, twisting the metal off of his wrists without a drop of sweat. “Can I see you again?” he asked, almost pleading. I frowned. “Sadly, I’m moving tomorrow. I was supposed to leave yesterday, actually, but some business came up. If I’m ever back in town, you’ll be the first person I call.” I left him on the bed, still soaked in his own cum, dazed from what I had done to him. I felt sated. It was time to get some answers. Part V

There is some daddy/son between consenting adults in this. Post. Man. “Nah mate. This delivery’s ‘Factory to Building’, says so here, look” God this guy was a bellend “Yep. I totally appreciate that. I’m just wondering if you wouldn’t mind carrying it the extra few metres? There’s a twenty in it...” I hated stooping to a bribe, but there was no way I could lift a washing machine on my own, let alone carry it up a flight of stairs. These guys only just managed to get it off the van, and there were two of them! But they wouldn’t be swayed. They had at least agreed to leave it at the bottom of the ramp to my building. Putting all my weight behind it I began pushing it up the ramp. Inch. By. Inch. 20 minutes later, it was 2 metres further up and I was shattered. I hadn’t even thought about how I’d get it up the stairs once in the building. How heavy was this thing? I googled, curiosity getting the better of pragmatism; knowing how heavy it was wasn’t going to make this easier. There it was on the website: ‘96kg / 211 lbs’ The other residents wouldn’t be home for another 6 hours and no one else was around. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck! I sat on the steps next to the ramp and threw my head into my hands. Why couldn’t I just turn my pants inside out like a NORMAL person? Who needed clean clothes anyway? What was wrong with the laundrette? “Not gonna get much washing done there lad.” Thanks for that hot take anonymous Scottish man. Good contribution. “Need a hand?” Even with a second person helping, I couldn’t have lifted a bean sprout right now. My back was killing and I was shattered. I looked up to say ‘thanks, but no thanks’ and get on with whatever Plan B was, but HOLY FUCKING HELL! It was the Postman, but not as I knew it. Just a few feet in front of me stood the biggest mountain of muscles I’d ever clapped eyes on. Absolutely fucking ginormous. He wasn’t as ripped as a bodybuilder, but still had densely packed muscles. He was one of those you could tell was naturally large, and had built on what nature had started. Neil, our regular Postie used one of the trolleys to deliver the post. His uniform hung loosely off his skinny frame, and you got the impression he had trouble delivering a DVD. Not this guy. The red Royal Mail polo shirt looked shrink wrapped onto his massive upper body. He was carrying a huge postman’s shoulder bag, the black strap of which cut across his body, right between the thickest pec meat I’d ever seen. They were like two big breeze blocks, flat on top and nearly up to his chin. His arms were ridiculous, two hams hanging out of his shirt. The short sleeves of the polo had no option than to bunch up under his armpits. The Royal Mail uniform designer must’ve read my mind from the future, as the bottom half of the outfit was those long shorts / trouser affairs that ended at the calves. Which was a good job in this guy’s case. You didn’t get calves likes these from just working out; these were genetic lumps of granite. They looked like fat people calves, only rock hard, with a split down the back and angled edges. The rest of his legs were almost equally on display. The black material was so tight you could see the teardrops of his thighs and dimples in his incredibly muscular butt cheeks. There was some padding around his face, but you could see he had a wide jaw and good features. A well kept beard, button nose, buzz cut hair round the back and sides, short on top, and deep set brown eyes capped by thick black eyebrows. And right now he was looking at me with concern. “Oh! could you?? I’ll have to find someone else to help though, I think I put my back out getting it that far” He looked at me, then the machine, then at me again, the same concerned look on his face, his eyebrows furrowed. When his neck turned I could see thick cords of muscle throb and twist under the skin, with a vein bulging at the side. “Let’s take a look shall we?” He said, I think to himself. As he shifted his weight from one foot to the other it was like every muscle in his body flexed and bulged. Watching him move over to the washing machine I felt my cock thicken between my thigh and jeans, the rough denim stimulating me even further. It was a sensation I loved. His body in motion made it chub even harder against the fabric. He was somehow stiff but fluid at the same time. As he turned I noticed that side on, his jutting out pecs and traps made him wider than I was head on. I could just about see veins in his biceps and triceps, and these became more apparent as they snaked down under his hairy forearms. When I saw him from the back, a bit of precum leaked. His lats bulged out freakishly. From shoulder to shoulder I think was two of me. I took the opportunity to stand up and quickly readjust myself, and noticed he must have had about 4 inches on me in height. He sidled up to the washing machine and it suddenly looked tiny. At his broadest point across his chest and shoulders he was several inches wider than the package. He seemed to be sizing it and getting ready to do a deadlift. “Oh, well you won’t be able to lift it on your own. It’s too big and heavy. It took two men just to get it off the van and they struggled. Plus I just checked and it weighs.. ninety….. six …… kilos” “Where to lad?” As I had been talking, this brick shit house of a man had slowly bent at the knees and placed his arms around the package and fingers underneath it. Showing no signs of struggle or resistance he slowly extended back up, his legs growing in size and bulging out further as he did so, veins appearing on his massively swollen calves. The package had been lifted up as if it was on a forklift. Slow and steady until he just held it there. “Uuuuh sure. This way” “Can’t see a thing lad, you’re gonna have to guide me.” He wasn’t wrong. The only way to do this was to stand by him, hand on his back and push him in the right direction. Even though the weight looked like nothing to him, there was a sweat patch running down the back of his shirt. I placed my hand on it and could feel the deep ridge between what felt like two columns of portland stone. I gulped and began to sweat a little myself. “3 steps forward and turn left” I began Relegated to directions and opening doors, my muscle beast of a postie had made light work of picking up a 96kg package and carrying it up a flight of stairs. If I had picked up anything like that shape, it would have been flat against my face. This guy’s rock hard pecs meant the box was some 10 inches from his. They were making two dents in the packaging as he crushed it into his body for traction. He looked like he was exploding with muscle inside his tightening red shirt. And the smell coming off him was intoxicating. Aftershave mixed with sweat mixed with cotton shirt mixed with man. I kind of wished I lived on the 4th floor. “Just down there is fine” I pointed to a spot in my hallway “Sure?” “Yep, it’s gonna go in that cupboard eventually” He lowered the package down as smoothly and easily as he had picked it up and gave a big sigh, his chunky round delts heaving upward and flexing his traps as he did so. I started to babble “Oh my god, thank you SO much. The delivery guys just… and I was there going... and when you turned up I thought, well..! But then you just...!!” He started to chuckle and I shut up. His deep Scots drawl and reassuring tone was authoritative but warm; paternal “Lad, it’s no problem at all. More than happy to assist. Anyway, helped me get a bit of a pump on I think.” He flexed his pecs twice in quick succession looking down at them, then began pumping his biceps like he was curling weights. He was swelling up in front of my eyes. I tried to play it as cool as possible, my dick screaming to be pulled out and yanked. “Really? You made it look so easy!” “Yeeeah, well… truth be told I can handle a lot more than that. But you know, a pump’s a pump isn’t it” he did a cocky raise of his eyebrows and a mini pump of his arms again. I couldn’t stop the words leaving my mouth. “Seriously?! How much more?” He leaned in and winked “Much. MUCH. More.” he growled I stood there looking stunned, precum dripping into my waistband, not a clue what to say next. “When they installing that for you then?” He nodded at the machine. “They’re not!” I answered proudly. “Gonna do it myself!” He gave me the same concerned look, his brow furrowing as it had before. God that was hot as fuck. “Laddie, you’re gonna unpack that, which means lifting it *out* of its packaging, move it into the cupboard *over* that skirting board, then keep it tilted at an angle with one hand while you install it wi’ the other?” Oh... “Umm… yeeeees?” He chuckled again, his immense shoulders bouncing up and down. He brought a calloused hand up to his forehead in mock despair, giving me another shot of his forearm. Lightly covered in hair it was now throbbing with veins. It was so satisfyingly thick at the bicep end I wanted to reach out and bite it. Huge and thick, it bulged even further to in the middle, like a melon was in there, then dramatically tapered down to his chunky wrist. His hand and fingers were thick with fat and muscle, and looked like they could crush a cricket ball. “Look, I’ve still two more routes to deliver, but if you’re in at four I can come by and set that up for you” “For real?” “For real” I mock refused “No. I couldn’t accept, you’ve already helped me out so much” “Lad, it’s on my way back anyway, and I don’t want to go home thinking about you trying to install that thing if you you’ve put your back out!” Leaning in close again he added, “And anyway, I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer” I froze at how dominant and manly he was, completely taking control of the situation. I loved that he was inviting himself back to my flat, seemingly without my permission. Somehow I found the words. “See you at four then!” He held out a giant paw to shake hands. My own nearly got lost in it. His palm had a beautiful raw texture to it, like rough denim. We introduced ourselves to each other. I couldn’t believe it when he told me his name! “Patrick” Then he began to crush my hand slightly and pulled me very close toward him as our hands shook. His voice was low and pretend intimidating, “And No. Jokes. About. You know what!” then he smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Oh, I don’t know any Scottish jokes” I deadpanned, sidestepping the ‘Postman Pat’ issue he probably had to deal with 100 times a day. He began to chuckle again, each time his muscles bunching up in ways I had never thought possible. “See you at four then!” He said, releasing my hand and leaving. After he left I stood there for a moment, not quite believing what had happened. I raised my hand to cover my mouth. Oh god. It smelt like him. Notes of his cotton polo shirt… his cologne… his sweat. It was all over my hand. I threw myself against the door and began to buck my hips uncontrollably. I was breathing him in, remembering how strong he was, how sweet he’d been, how handsome. Fuck those calf muscles. Lightly covered in hair. Could you imagine dropping to your knees and just fucking the split in them. Imagine doing that as he did calf raises, making them harder and jerking off your dick with the movement. Fantasy mixed with reality now, as I imagined him in my apartment; he was holding me in his huge arms, crushing me against his rock hard body like he’d crushed the package against it, the smell coming from his chest as he rubbed my face into him. I reached up for him, he picked me up of the floor, kissing me passio... I came violently in my jeans as I lost control of the fantasy, my hips still pounding. *** “It’s called power building. We mostly train for size and strength, but we try and stay nice and hard and in good shape too.” He said, slowly flexing his arm in the polo shirt. Good lord, how had I got here?! After my impromptu door wank I’d cleaned up and excitedly paced around waiting for 4 o’clock. He turned up at 4:10. Those last 10 minutes some of the longest and most stressful of my life. “Apologies for lateness; Mrs Fortescue at 42!”. Did he make that up? Was that Postman humour? “Oh are you? No worries, I didn’t notice anyway” I lied He took his bag off, the movement of which was like a bodybuilder posing, only his muscles seemed so much blockier, denser, harder, and he looked strong as two bodybuilders. He was nearly soaked through with sweat from his rounds in the sun. “You mind if I freshen up a bit?” “Sure. Bathroom’s just there” He turned sideways to go into the bathroom and shot me a little smile. Maybe I shouldn’t be goofily watching him go in and out! PSHHHHHHHHH He was taking a shower!!! My mind went into overdrive. That thick powerful body was being soaped up by those chunky muscular hands. Fuck! That sweaty man juice was pouring down his body into my drains. The shower stopped and I realised he’d be in there, rubbing a towel all over his rock hard body, that hairy chest, that blocky stomach. He’d be drying his round butt muscles, towelling of his cock and balls. His odour would be soaked into the towel for me to smell later. Maybe he was flexing in front of the mirror now. Pumping his muscles up for me. He’d wrap the towel around that powerbelly mid section, leaving his heaving upper body slightly damp, then strutt out t... “Cheers mate” he came out of the bathroom, back in his Postman’s uniform. “Let’s get this bad boy installed shall we?” *** I didn’t know someone unpacking a washing machine could be so sexy, but it was. There was no dithering or indecisiveness. The box was held together with strong industrial plastic straps. Patrick would just snap them apart in his hands. When he had to unpack from the other side, he would pick the whole thing up and turn it round in his hands. The whole thing was unpacked and set up in 15 minutes; he even plumbed it in and crushed the packaging up into a tight little ball for me. “No more dirty nickers now eh lad” he winked at me again and I died a little. “I honestly can’t thank you enough! Is there anything I can get you? Tea, coffee” He rubbed his stomach and said “I am a bit peckish; don’t suppose you got any scran going begging?” “Yes of course! Didn’t you have any lunch” “Well, yeah, but not since two hours ago!” “OK, well I can make an early dinner?” I offered He chuckled “this ain’t dinner time lad!” “Okaaaay.. I can make us a few chicken sandwiches for a snack if you like” “Perfect!” He smiled How many did he want. Two? Three? He suddenly looked a little embarrassed. “I don’t suppose I could have ten..” he hunched his shoulders apologetically, his traps bulged up around the girthy chords of neck muscle, reaching up to his ears. “TEN?!?” I guffawed “how’s that not your dinner?” “Hey!” He replied in faux indignation, like I’d called him fat “I just like sandwiches” he replied in a silly bashful manner, totally juxtaposed with his hench figure. I chuckled. “And anyway” he continued, all puppy dog eyes. “it takes a lot of calories to get muscles like this” He shot me a bit of a most muscular, bumping his fists together, biceps swelling up, a crease appearing in his shirt between the two goliath pecs as they pumped upwards and squeezed together, traps flaring up even more. He looked over his body at each of his swollen muscles, then up to me, gauging my reaction. I hadn’t waistbanded, and my cock sprung up to full length. In that one moment I could actually feel my balls producing a thick load of cum. “I better get started” I murmured, turning to the kitchen in order to hide my throbbing cock. I invited Patrick to take a seat and watch TV as I made sandwiches. He sat on my couch, which was a two seater. When I looked over, it almost looked like he was in an armchair. He sprawled out in a manly fashion, an arm on each rest, his beefy legs spread out. Mercifully conversation turned to his work. Turns out a Postman has some VERY interesting stories! He was funny and charming and had a knack for the anecdotal. My hands had been shaking as I started prepping the food, but as we chatted I got more and more relaxed. I used a whole loaf of bread and made 14 sandwiches, some salad and mayo, some peri peri sauce, others with seasoning and spices. I moved over to the couch and Patrick shifted over to the right, leaving just enough space for me to squeeze in. His eyes shone when I put the food down. “Fuckin crackin!” He said rubbing his hands together. As we ate, I couldn’t stop glancing back and forth between us. I felt tiny next to this behemoth, totally miniscule. We probably looked like one of those ‘comparison’ pics I often wanked over. I loved seeing a jacked up roided bodybuilder looming over some reedy fan. And now that was us. But in real life I noticed other things. Patrick’s big work boots must have been a size 12 compared to my size 8 Converse. This close up to his legs I realised how “20 inch plus calves” actually made you felt. Like a little boy in my case. I wanted nothing more than to reach down and grab one. And while I sat on top of the sofa cushion, Patrick sinked all the way back into it, till he got to the wooden frame. Seeing him enjoy the food so much really made my heart soar. He wasn’t just an insane muscle freak. He was a total sweetheart. I felt butterflies in my stomach and ordered myself to stop. I’d been here before and it was never what you thought it. The hunky plumber really had just left his spanner behind. The broadband man hadn’t turned out to be an IFBB pro bodybuilder. And this guy was just being decent and now having some sandwiches. Just.. save it for the wank bank later. He hoovered up what remained of the plate, including mine, which I hadn’t really touched. “That were smashing lad!” He said, a broad, heart melting smile on his face, still chewing. “Really? Aw, I’m glad you enjoyed them so much.” He started to stretch out, his legs and arms flexing straight in front of him, his chest swelled further upwards to his chin, making the last button on his polo shirt stretch at its hole. I’d never seen pecs that angled and square before. As he stretched harder the top formed an actual shelf of thick hard muscle, his chin disappearing into the dip between them. He started to vibrate in that way you do when your body’s really feeling it. His leg muscles were swelled up so thick and hard I was sure the fabric might tear. Then he began to relax back out of it. “Ooooooooooh, bout to pop though, d’ya mind?” He asked, already unbuckling his belt and top button of his trousers. His belly swelled out, engorged with food but still densely muscled on the surface, even if there wasn’t a six pack. As the top of his trousers came loose and his tucked in polo shirt was lifted, I noticed a strip of hair that ran down from his belly button and disappeared into a pair of grey briefs. Stop staring. As we sat there after our snack, I noticed Patrick rubbing his pecs with a meaty paw, emitting a low groaning sound as he did. I could barely take it. “Y’alright?” I ventured He glanced to me then back at the TV, rubbing his chest the whole time. His thick fingers weren’t denting the huge slabs of meat at all. “Oh aye lad. Intense chest pump yesterday you know” Talking about his muscles made my stomach turn and dick lurch. I was so awkward but wanted to know more. “Sooo… you’re some kind of bodybuilder or something?” I asked, realising what a hideous question it was. He sat up next to me, his beefy shoulder and tricep bulging into my tiny body, emphasising to me how huge he was. “Call me a bodybuilder again and you’ll know about it” he growled, squinting “It’s called power building. We mostly train for size and strength, but we try and stay nice and hard and in good shape too.” He flexed his arms, the left one bulging right into me like if a boulder could swell. My mouth went dry and my mind blank. I sat up straight and tried to focus on the TV. Patrick relaxed a little in contrast to my awkwardness, his arms dangling between his legs, our shoulders still in a row. He leant sideway, nudging into me “Hey” he said, breaking the ice. We turned to face each other. With a cocky raise of his eyebrows he asked, “you wanna see a trick?” *** I came back with the three 50 pence pieces, pretty sure this was the riddle you showed 5 year olds to explain molecules, tapping one with the other to make the third move without being ‘touched’. That, or “look how dirty your ears are! TA-DAH!” “I can’t imagine what this will be” I intoned, sarcastically. He smiled at me as I handed the coins to him and he pretty much threw one back right away “Catch!” He cried There was a sudden disconnect between what my brain was expecting and what I caught in my hand. I looked down. It was… a curled up 50 pence piece. Patrick was watching the TV, and flipping one of the coins over his knuckles like a gangster. People usually did that with £1 coins, but his fingers were thick enough that it worked just fine. He looked up at my slack jawed face, feigning ignorance at the whole thing. “Hmm?” He grunted “You… did you? … but you couldn’t even have time!” My brain ruminated as I sat back down next to him. “Hang on sec, have you got a bunch of these in your pocket ready to go?” I exclaimed, holding the rolled up 50p between us. Patrick cracked up and leaned right into my body as he giggled. I placed my hand on his bicep to steady us both. The feeling of his rock hard bicep under my fingers and his immense body vibrating against mine sent shockwaves through me. This was the first time I was touching a man’s muscles. And no amount of imagining it or jacking off to bodybuilder videos could have prepared for how good it felt. He grabbed the 50p as I held it, his rough hand wrapped around my fingers. I felt sick at how much he was turning me on. Patrick steadied himself up and placed the coin on the table, where it rolled back and forth for a bit. “Ok! I need a glamorous assistant” I pointed questioningly to myself, still in disbelief and he gave a nod, his brow furrowed again. “Would sir like to check that this is indeed a coin of Her Majesty’s Royal Mint?” He held the coin between us, and I went to take it from him, my hand now wrapping around his thick fingers and the coin. I tried to pull the coin away but he pinched harder and it wouldn’t budge. He sniggered smugly as I tried harder and harder. “Patrick!” “Sorry” “Ok. Yes this is in deed a coin of etc. Etc. Etc.!” I said, handing it back. Every time our hands touched my body yearned to be wrapped up in his arms. His strength was radiating in waves from his body. I felt small and weak, but at the same time protected and safe. “Watch” he said, pinching the coin between thumb and finger in each hand. “This time I’ll do it slowly so you knows there’s nos cheatin!” His melon sized forearms suddenly took on a grainy texture. They seemed to swell up an inch. He turned his face to look at me, gauging my reaction as I focused on the coin. He began to twist, and the cords of his thick forearms rippled, veins bulging out from them. The coin bent like paper in his strong fingers. He kept his eyes on my shocked face and placed the twisted coin down next to the rolled one. “Good trick?” He enquired, his face intense now My mouth just dropped open “You ready for the finale?” He said, excitedly. I nodded Patrick rolled the bottom of his shirt up slowly, revealing more bulging stomach muscle, his eyes still drinking in my reaction. He took the final coin and placed it on his tummy then pushed it up til it was out of sight underneath the tight confines of his uniform. He pulled his arm back out and rolled his top back down. “Finger” he ordered. He grabbed my whole hand, keeping my finger extended and moved it toward the valley between his immense pecs. They seemed to be moving on their own as he breathed, heavily now, rising and falling, twitching slightly. My finger came into contact with the centre of his polo shirt, right between his pecs, and I felt the cold hard 50p piece beneath. He had wedged it between his pecs and was holding it there easily with a light flex of his pecs. “Now push in” he commanded. I pushed, and immediately felt the coin bend beneath my touch. “Nnngh.. yeah, keep pushing” . Patrick was sweating slightly, and looking at me menacingly, a look of pride and determination on his face. “Uuuugh. Yes, push it” he moaned, as the coin folded in more. I understood why he had used my finger; to make sure it folded inward, and so that I could feel the sensation of metal being crushed by muscle. My other fingers brushed the surface of Patrick’s right pec. It was harder than the coin. His eyes widened like a wild beast and nostrils flared. “Ok take it away.” He barked. I did so, and my finger and the fabric of his shirt just managed to escape as the coin’s opposite sides started to turn in on each other. “YeeeEEAH uuuuugh!” He was growling now, and turning red, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. He brought his arms straight out in front of him to tighten the gap between his pecs and flexed his whole body hard. He bulged with muscle, his hands in fists as he bought his forearms towards each other, folding the coin flat. He was still looking at me, handsome and terrifying in the equal measure. “Aaaah!!! FUCK” he roared out. He started to bend his arms now, his biceps growing in front of me, actually swelling up bigger with each flex. He stood up and loomed over me, pushed his body slowly into a fully committed most muscular pose. “Mmmmmm… ngh.. Ngh… NNGGGH” He grunted as he flexed, harder, harder and harder into his pose, veins now covering his neck. The top of his pecs were pushed right up and peaked through the widening gap of his polo shirt, also bulging with veins and peppered with short hairs, the fabric stretched around his gargantuan body. All the while staring at me. “Yeeeeeeeah…” he growled loudly, bringing his fists together in the pose. His legs were flexed as well and the fabric was stretched so tight round his thighs I could see veins through the fabric. His whole body was like a map of London made from veins, some thick, some thin, wriggly and pulsating all over. He was bending down and forward in his most muscular, his face coming closer to mine. He growled through gritted teeth, spitting some saliva on me. “Now fucking, see, this!” He moaned In a second, his face softened. He stood up straight and let out a big sigh of relief. Then, raising his arms, he pulled his shoulders back as far as his densely muscled body would allow. His chest opened up and the chunk of metal dropped to the floor with a clunk. He raised his eyebrows cockily and nodded to the floor, indicating I should pick it up. It was right between his feet. I felt dizzy as my trembling hand reached down, between his insanely developed calf muscles, still popping with veins from flexing. The metal was warm and felt weightier than a 50p. It had indeed been completely folded in half leaving no gap. It wasn’t flat though. It had a distinct little wave in it. Oh fuck! It was the shape of the striations between Patrick’s pecs. I held it in my hands, trying to fathom the strength in his body. A man standing just a few inches away from me could crush a 50p piece between his pecs. My body started to double over on itself, a little like the coin, as I desperately tried not to cum. He sat back down, leaning further into me than ever, took the coin from my hand and placed it next to the other two. A role, a twist and a wave. I leaned past him, over the table. I turned to look at him, our faces a few inches from each other now, then back over the table. I leaned closer to the coins, looking at the details that had been smudged away by pressure. Did the twist have fingerprints in it? And then OOOW FUCK! My back spasmed and I threw my hands down on the table to steady myself. Patrick’s big meaty right paw came down on my slender hand to steady and reassure me. An intense moment of pleasure through the pain. He was by my side in an instant, crouched down next to me. “Your back?” He asked, concern in his voice. I screwed my face up to answer ‘yes’. He immediately took control of the situation. “Listen. Push up with your left arm and roll into me. Don’t try to sit or stand” he instructed. I did as he said. I found him effortlessly turning my body over as I rolled into him, and found his arms wrapping round me, lifting me up. “Put your arm around my neck”. I did so, and it came into contact with the beefy girth of his pumped traps. He stood up like I weighed nothing more than the shirt on his body, holding me in exactly the position I had spasmed, ensuring no new pain entered my body, and moved quickly to my bedroom where he laid me down on my side. “Ok, how’s this; let me know if there’s any pain” A strong hand was on my left shoulder and squeezed it powerfully, his thumb making small circular movements on my neck. His right hand began rubbing my back over my shirt, gently. Slowly but surely, his touch got firmer, and the pain began seeping away. I let out a moan of relief. “That good?” He checked Good? This was fucking fantastic. “Mmhmm!” “Ok, stretch out flat”. I’m not sure why he said it, as he was now moving my body for me, his hands moving my shoulders up, then pulling my legs down, finally pushing me flat face down on the bed. He stopped for a moment. I heard him move around a little behind me. Then he removed my shoes. He resumed rubbing my back again, kneading it, squeezing my shoulders which drove me crazy and occasionally grazing my neck. My cock started to stiffen again. This was crazy to me. Normally being such a visual person I wouldn’t have thought it would happen. But feeling his hands on me now, hands that could crush metal be so gentle, and his musky smell now returning since his intense flexing, I couldn’t help popping wood. “Uuuuuuuuuh” I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t sexual, it was just the best massage I’d ever had in my life. I felt Patrick giggle a bit “That doing it for you?” He asked “Oh Patrick it feels fucking amazing!” I replied “Oh yeah?” “Seriously, better than ever” I really did. All the pain had melted away and my back felt fantastic. “Ok take it easy lad. I’m gonna fix you up ok. You’ll have no more back trouble after this” He bought one of his colossal thighs right up between my legs, the tear drops of the leg nudging my balls. I had to spread my legs and raise my butt to accommodate the sheer size of it. I sensed his other leg leave the floor and kneel on the bed, supporting his weight above my body.. “One of the physios taught me this and it’s magic” he whispered in my ear. A huge paw scooped up around my neck and grabbed the opposite shoulder. My neck felt the blood pumping through his swollen forearm. Another slid between my rib cage and the bed. As his powerful muscular arms grew tighter around me, I began to feel Patrick’s huge pecs press into my back a little. It felt wonderful, but.. I was suddenly reminded of the washing machine from earlier, and how Patricks chest had popped holes right through the packaging. “Umm… Patrick.. buddy? Are you sure about this” He drew a deep breath through his nose. When he spoke, his voice seemed to break, like he might be angry. “Do you think I’d hurt you lad?” He whispered I could hardly well say ‘Yes’ if I thought he would. But I trusted him. “No, sorry” He spoke again. “This only lasts a moment. It shouldn’t be painful, but it can be intense. You won’t hurt any more after this. If it does start to hurt while I’m doing it, say immediately won’t you?” “Yes” I said, softly. “Ok, here goes” He rocked his hips forward and put the weight of his lower body on mine. My throbbing dick was forced into the mattress and pulsated at the feeling. At the same time, Patrick began to flex and blow out his powerful stomach. I felt a pop at the base of my spine. He applied more weight and started to flex his right arm around my rib cage. His hand was on the other side and pressed in. Two more pops. My cock lurched beneath me and my hips bucked once, as much as Patrick’s weight would allow. As my butt rocked up I felt Patrick chubbing. I was sure there were only two layers of fabric between us now. My jeans and his cotton grey briefs. He must have removed his trousers during the massage. My hips involuntarily pumped back and forth once more. Patrick’s body started to stretch out as it had on the sofa earlier, his thighs rubbing past mine. He applied more weight and began rolling his pecs slowly and gently into me. Then more weight was applied as he flexed them hard into my back. I felt a row of pops as Patrick crushed my body, aligning my spine using his dense symmetrical muscles. I let out a whimper as I tried to rock my hips back and forth. They barely moved a few millimetres under Patrick’s immense mass of muscle. But the sensation was enough for cum to start backing up in my shaft. I could feel the veins on my dick throbbing, trapped between myself and the mattress, the head grinding into the rough denim of my jeans. I was sure I could feel Patrick’s dick swell harder too, even between his briefs and my jeans. More weight, and now his left arm was flexing around my neck and shoulders. I felt two pops between my shoulder blades and let out another whimper. By now, Patricks thick bearded jaw was pressing up against my cheek and I could hear a ticking sound like a croak coming from his throat. He was fully stretched out and on top of me now, and the sensation of his muscular body on top of and all around my body began to overwhelm me. His smell was filling the room. Sweat, cotton and man. I inhaled deeply, remembering my wank from earlier in the day. My hips where lashing back and forth wildly and I began to feel Patrick thrust his hips against my butt. The feeling of the pops up my back and my throbbing erection meant I couldn’t stifle noise any more and I let out an intense moan. Patrick’s thrusts and bear hug intensified and it started to approach more than my body could cope with. “mm.. mm.. mm..” Patrick was emitting a low grunting sound as he thrust his hips and squeezed harder “...Patrick” “Mm.. mm.. huuuh” “Patrick!” I wimpered again “HUuuuuu” “Patrick it’s hurting!” Patrick’s bear hug got no tighter. He locked his arms into a rigid square of beef around me, allowing me to breath, but not much else. He took two last thrusts into me and stopped solid. His body froze and started to vibrate intensely, like it had earlier when he stretched out on the sofa “Hnnnnnnnnnnnngh uuuuuuuh” it almost wasn’t a sound, more like one long low guttural moan. I felt a moist sensation seep through my jeans to my butt. Patrick unwrapped his arms and pushed his weight up off me. He began tenderly rubbing my shoulders again. “Feeling all fixed?” He murmured. Whaaaaat??! OK, my back felt fixed, but you wanna tell me that was therapy? Oh god and I was precumming hard now. “Yeah… Feels amazing Patrick” “Good” he moved his hands around my rib cage and I couldn’t help but giggle a little. I heard Patrick moan behind me as my body wriggled against his. “Your back all better?” He asked caringly “Yeeeah. It feels so good” I cooed. Patrick moved his hands back to my shoulders and rubbed firmly. He was half whispering, half growling now. “How does this feel?” I squirmed at the pleasure that rippled through my body as he worked my shoulders and let out a little squeal. Patrick gulped “How does this feel?” He grabbed my neck in his paw, his other hand groping my body all over. I felt owned “That’s really nice” my head was spinning with pleasure “And how does this feel?” A pair of wet lips pressed into my neck and paused there. Thick hairy beard and soft moist mouth. I felt the tip of his tongue on my neck, and then he pushed his lips together and kissed me. His mouth came close to my ear “You taste as sweet as you look son” He whispered. I moaned loudly. I my cock was building up to a huge ejaculation. “Come here baby” Patrick growled menacingly as he flipped me over in a single movement. He was on his knees leaning back now, a scary look in his eyes, a half smile on his face. I looked down at at his crotch. It was one of the biggest loads I’d ever seen. His powerful orgasm had shot a huge load right through his briefs and my jeans, and a huge gob of cum was still dripping down the outside of his briefs along the outline of his cock which was getting hard again. Patrick began unzipping my jeans and ripping them off me. His face lit up like Christmas when he saw my throbbing precum soaked briefs stretched over my twitching cock. “Oh son what’s this. Getting turned on by dad’s big muscles are ya?” He flexed a grotesque double bicep, exploding out of his red polo shirt that was sopping with sweat again, grunting and bucking his hips up at the same time. Since we first met this morning he looked like he had packed on an inch of muscle. He threw himself down on all four and began rubbing my cock with his belly. My briefs were barely there now, but the sensation of his muscular belly under the texture of his red polo shirt was getting me ready to squirt. He leaned back on his knees, straddling my thighs and struggled to remove the red top from his body. “Help me son.” He roared. I leaned up and helped him peel the shirt off, brushing his lats during the process. He placed a meaty paw on my chest and threw me back onto the bed. “Mmm… like touching your daddy’s muscles son?” I nodded and moaned yes. “Yeah you do. You’ve wanted to feel daddy’s thick hard pecs are all day haven’t you?” “Oh fuck yes daddy” I went to grab my dick in one hand and squeeze a pec in the other, finally allowing myself the release that was surging inside me, but Patrick caught both and slammed down on top of me. “Not yet son”. He said, licking my neck. He straddled right over my crotch, so my dick was pressing up into his taint and balls, and pinned my arms to my sides with his legs. “Aaaaaaaa fuck daddy” I moaned. Patrick’s eyes went wild again. “Do you like that son? Do you like feeling your daddy’s 350 lbs of sweaty muscle massage your boy cock like that?” Patrick’s dick was fully hard again, twitching of its own accord in his cum soaked grey briefs as he spoke. He grabbed and started throttling it over the fabric. “What are you anyway son? 160, 70?” “I … I dunno. 11 stone” I answered. Patrick jacked off even more severely “Oh son. You don’t know your pounds from your stone? Well let daddy learn you. I’m 25 stone or rock solid muscle. And you’re my weak little 165 lb boy”, he said, getting even more worked up and grunting between breaths. “I weigh more than twice what you are and am 10 times stronger”. He flexed his other arm, looking down at me watch it swell. Patrick was rotating his hips around as he said this, and bucking his hips up and down, his cock swelling in his clenched hand. Sweat was dripping down his face and body. He threw his body on top of me and we finally had our first proper kiss. It was passionate, terrifying, dominating and liberating all at once. Patrick loosened his grip on my arms and spread his weight back over my body again, his legs still either side of me pumping his dick into mine. My hands found his biceps and groped around madly. “Fucking crazy for dad’s rock solid muscles aren’t you son?” “Oh daddy. You’re so fucking big and strong!” Patrick thrust even harder, stimulating both out cocks at the same time. “Yeah son. Feel daddy flex his muscles for you” Patrick flexed another intense most muscular into my body and growled. “You’re so weak and tender son. Daddy’s got you now though. He’s gonna protect you in his powerful arms and huge chest. Squeeze your little body in lad!” I was juddering at his words, one last effort at holding my cum back. “Feel that chest son. Touch your daddy’s muscular hard chest!” “I’m gonna cum daddy!” I moaned Patrick’s face looked ecstatic to see me reaching my climax. He bear hugged and kissed me, his sweat dripping down his face into my mouth. He pressed 350lbs of muscle against me, moving a huge leg in between mine, so I was thrusting up against his veiny thigh. My thrust became erratic and uncontrollable. My arms wrapped tight around his thick lats as I got ready to unload. Looking deep into my eyes he whispered “daddy loves you” “Uuuuuuuuuuuh. Fuck!” Just like his, my ejaculation rocketed through my briefs and into him. He smiled warmly at me, as he moved his hand down and wrapped it round my cock. “Huuuuuuuuu uuuuh! Shiiiiit” I was nowhere near done cumming, and now felt his rough textured palm enveloping my dick over my briefs, rubbing up and down. I grabbed a thick swollen thigh in my left hand and squeezed my right hand tight around his which was still rubbing my cock. I squirted another two thick volleys of cum right through my briefs, covering his bulging forearm. He looked as happy at this as I felt, my entire body shaking from the orgasm. “Mmmm… good boy”. He purred in my ear and started to kiss my face all over. He started up grinding into me again. “Ok son, talk to daddy, tell him how much you love him” “Completely daddy. I love how you take care of me” Patrick moaned loudly at this, and his hand flew back to his dick to beat off. “Aaaaw yeah. That’s right! What else” he muttered through gritted teeth. “You’re so big and strong. I love when you put your arms around me and make me feel safe and protected. I’m your small weak boy. I love that I have your big muscles to look after me.” “Aah FUCK.. yes! Keep going” “You’re my big strong daddy and I love you” Patrick popped up onto his knees, shaking all over, his muscles bulging with power. He grabbed my face with his free hand and forced his thumb in my mouth where I sucked it. “Take daddy’s fucking seed son!” He roared. His dick exploded ropes of thick warm jizz all over me, the first shot hitting my face, then massive globs landing all over my shirt. A final dribble surged up like a fountain, running down his hands and onto my balls. He fell back on top of my body and wrapped me up in a huge bear hug. He let out a long low satisfied sigh and it vibrated through me. He began kissing my face all over again, finishing in a long kiss on the mouth, our tongues and lips going crazy for eachother. We lay there for a while. Patrick was breathing heavily and the sensation of his body rocking against mine made my cock swell again. He rubbed it, gently, as if he possessed it. “I want to see you again” Patrick finally said. “I wanna see a lot of you again” he added. He held me tightly now in the spoon position. “You’re special to me, do you know that?” He kissed my neck again, the same spot where he had first kissed me. “I haven’t felt like this for a long long time son. I thought I might never feel like this again” he said. “Patrick?” I turned my head to face him. “I’ve never felt like this. I never thought I would” “How so son?” His brow furrowing in that way I knew I would never be able to get enough of. “Safe” Patrick’s cock swelled, and he breathed in deeply, his face betraying a multitude of emotions. We kissed again and lay there. After a few minutes I felt his cheek smiling against mine. “So apart from all day tomorrow when you’re calling in sick to work, when am I going to see you again?” He asked His fingers found my ribs and he started tickling my sides, making me wriggle against his hard body. “Stop it!!! Ummm… I have a dishwasher coming next week?” I joked “Hmmmmmmmm…” he moaned and pulled me in tighter. “Make sure they leave it outside”

Since his dad had the day off, Danny borrowed his Range Rover to drive up to college for his first wrestling practice. "Dad, I'm taking the Rover," Danny said as he grabbed the keys on his way out to the garage. "What?" said his dad. "But I'm going to need it later." "You can use my old Honda. I'm too big for it now." "Danny, put those keys back," said his dad, although his voice did not have the authority in it that it used to. Danny stopped in the doorway, but he didn't turn back. He was wearing his singlet with a pair of sweatpants. He'd had to special order a size 5XL singlet, and even at that, it was a little snug. His backspread was broader than Craig Golias's. "Tell ya what, Pops," he said. "I'll arm wrestle you for them." They both knew it would take at least 6 men his dad's size to win that contest. "Never mind, take it. But just this once," said his dad, diplomatically. "Ok, if you insist, "said Danny on his way out. "You should probably upgrade to a Hummer soon, cause even your car is a tight fit for me now." Danny took off out of the driveway, and headed to school. A trucker almost drove off the highway when he saw Danny's arm hanging out the window of the car. Especially when Danny flexed it at him. "You'd think he'd never seen a 24" peak before," Danny said to himself. When he got to the gymnasium, some of the wrestling squad was already there. As he walked in, he heard murmurings like "holy shit," "Jesus" "look at the size of that guy". Danny chuckled to himself. This was going to be so much different than when he'd gone out for wrestling in high school when he was a soft chubby kid. Even the head coach was taken aback, because the last time he'd seen Danny he was in civilian clothes, not a singlet, which tended to show off every inch of his mass. Plus the fact that Danny had gained 30lbs of muscle since they'd first met. His shoulders were half again wider than the next biggest heavyweight guy on the squad. As Danny sauntered over to the other wrestlers, the coach thought to himself 'If we don't win state this year, I'm never going to.' He started pairing the guys off into sparring partners. Danny was the only one left, when Jack walked into the gym. "You're late, Dick. I mean Jack," said the coach. He'd told his wife just last night that he got at least one every year, a kid that he would nickname 'Dick Head'. They were always the cockiest jocks, who took their athletic abilities for granted, because they'd been blessed with them since they were in grade school. Guys he liked to take down a peg or two. This year, he had a good chance with Jack. "Meet your training partner, Jack. This is Danny." Jack looked over at Danny, and took a step back. "What? Coach, this guy is way outta my weight class." "Yeah, I can see that. But you were late, and he's the only guy that's not paired up yet, so there ya go. Maybe he'll get you to work a little harder." Hopefully, he'll knock the cocky out of you, thought the coach. "Now, stretch out for a little bit, then let's do some skill drills, guys." As the practice went on, things didn't go well for Jack. Danny mopped the mats with him. What little Danny remembered from his short stint in high school wrestling came back to him quickly. And every move Jack tried on him, he powered out of easily, then used the move on Jack, to great effect. A half hour into it, and Jack was gasping from breath. He'd been flopped all over the gym floor. Flipped and flopped, like a sack of flour. Except for a slight shimmer of sweat shining on his body, Danny was fresh as a daisy. He started putting Jack in holds, then flexing as he held him pinned in place. The coach noticed the showboating, and would normally call a wrestler out for it, but he was enjoying this. Whenever he got a chance, Danny would dig his big knee into a vulnerable part of Jack's body, like his lower back, his ankles, his elbows. Danny could see why Dwayne liked fighting. As he pinned Jack to the floor face down, with his elbow pressing hard into Jack's scapula, Danny leaned into his former bully's ear and said, "Try and move, ant." All Jack could do was grunt a muffled 'fuckkk'. It made Danny's groin throb with pleasure. He picked Jack up, threw him over his shoulders, and started doing lunges the full length of the gym. Back and forth, back and forth, till his quads where burning and bloated full. Then he tossed Jack back to the mats, and starting working him over again. After an hour of abuse, the coach called for a break, and Jack had to crawl to the edge of the mats to recover. Most of the guys on the team had been watching Danny manhandle the state champ like a ragdoll. During the break, they asked him questions about his training and diet. Danny flexed as he answered them. More than one of the guys boned up in their shorts watching their massive teammate show off his size, especially when he pulled the straps of his singlet off his huge shoulders and rolled it down just past his waistband of his jock strap. There was a gasp when he pulled his sweats down to his ankles, exposing his tree trunk quads. His muscular development was far beyond anything they'd ever seen. He let them feel his muscles, and even though they were all in great shape, none of them had ever felt muscle this hard. Even the coach couldn't hide his hardon. "Ok, guys, let's call it a day. Go hit the showers. Danny, let me talk to you for a second," said the coach. Danny pulled up his sweats and came over to him, and the pheromones coming off his big muscle made Coach's hardon pulse with his increased heartbeat. "I like what you were doing today, Danny," as he realized that even Danny's hands were twice the size and thickness of Jack's, " but try not to break him into pieces. I'm still counting on him to win a state title in his weight class." "Ok, Coach," Danny said, clenching his big fists until he heard the knuckles crackling. He felt like fighting five Jacks at once. But then Jack came limping over toward them, keeping his distance from his huge wrestling partner. "Coach," said Jack, "you make me practice with him again, I'm quitting the team." His skin was all ruddy and welted from Danny's holds on him. "Shut up," snapped the coach. "You'll lose your scholarship if you do that, cause I know you're not here based on your academics. Stop being a pussy, and go hit the showers before I have Danny bounce you around the gym like a basketball. " Coach gave Danny a wink, and as Jack hobbled away, grumbling, Danny flinched at him. Jack flinched away in fear, and scurried to the lockers. Danny and the coach laughed. _ . _ Meanwhile, back at Danny's house, Dwayne knocked at the side door. When Danny's dad answered the door, Dwayne said, "Hey, Mr K, how you doing?" Danny's dad stepped back a little and looked Dwayne up and down. "Who are you?" he asked, not recognizing Danny's long time friend, who, the last time he saw him, was 5'6" and about 120lbs soaking wet. The guy at the door was a good 5'11, 200lbs of strapping, zero body fat, muscle. "Mr K, it's me, Dwayne," he said, muscling his way past Mr K and into the kitchen. He was wearing a sweat-soaked UA shirt that clung to his torso like a second skin, showing every rippling muscle. He gave off a thick scent of sweat and pheromones that filled the kitchen. He strutted over to the fridge, opened it, and grabbed a bottle of water, and guzzled it down. "Help yourself," said the older man. "Thanks, Mr K," said Dwayne, ignoring the sarcasm. Then he walked from the kitchen into the family room. Mr K could see, right thru Dwayne's nylon running shorts, how perfectly rounded his glutes were, as they rolled with every step he took. And he could see the extreme V-taper of back. If Mr K hadn't seen his own son's transformation in the last month or so, he would never believe that this was the same nerdy kid that used to hang out around the house. "It's kinda hot in here. Mind if I take off my shirt?" said Dwayne, stripping his shirt over his head without waiting for an answer. He balled up his wet tee and tossed it on the couch. He stretched out his torso, raising his arms over his head. Glistening muscle rippled out all over him. He wore a thick chain around his neck with a Superman "S" medallion hanging from it. "I just came from a CrossFit competition. I heard about it on the radio, so I signed up as a walk-on. I won every heat. Crushed it. Didn't even know what half the events were, but the guys there were real friendly about showing me. The chicks too. Most of them seemed to know each other, and they were all real interested in getting to know me, find out where I trained, what my routine was. You shoulda seen their faces when I told them I'd never done any of it before. Funny how those jock types never seemed to notice me before, except to mess with me. Now they notice me though. You okay, Mr K? You look a little pale." Danny's dad was in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. He was in awe. He noticed how perfect Dwayne's teeth were, straight, white, sparkling. But weren't Dwayne's teeth crooked and sort of yellowish? Suddenly, Dwayne grinned, and ran his tongue across his dazzling pearly white teeth. "Dwayne, are you... reading my mind?" "Not really, I'm just reading your expression. I saw you looking at my teeth, and I know you were thinking 'didn't he have shitty teeth before?' And 'wasn't he a skinny weakling who I used to enjoy intimidating when he came over to visit my son, even though I'm the adult and should know better?' So I guess you could say I'm sort of reading your mind." Then he flexed his rock hard pecs at him. Mr K had to admit it was true, he had thought those things of Dwayne. Mr K had been very athletic, and even now, had a hard time not feely disdain for men or boys who were not. He'd felt that way about his own son, as hard as he tried not to. "Check out my abs," said Dwayne, changing the subject, and clenching his 8pack that was stone slab flat. "They're a little tighter than yours now, Mr K. Watch this," he said, and flexed his gut muscles. Each brick in his 8pack clenched and squared off into 4 striated blocks. "Looks like I got a 32pack, don't it?" he said, strumming his fingers up and down the muscle. "Yeah," said Dwayne, "looks like bullets would bounce off them. And maybe they would. " He pinched some ab skin and tugged on it, and it pulled up like tightly wrapped cellophane. When he let go, the skin snapped back into place. "I have a fight tonight, Mr K. You should come watch." "A fight?" said Mr K, barely able to form words as he stared at Dwayne's densely packed muscularity. "What kind of fight?" "An MMA fight. My first official one." Dwayne plopped down in Mr K's favorite leather lounge chair. "Fuck, I'm horny," he said, adjusting himself in his sweats. "You ever feel so horny that you could pick up a piece of furniture and fuck it?" "Maybe," said Mr K. He couldn't believe how handsome Dwayne had become. He looked like a heavily muscled, Russian Zac Ephron. His eyes were so clear and sparkling blue. And didn't he used to wear thick nerdy glasses? "I used to, yeah. My eyesight has improved," said Dwayne, casually. "My eye doc says I've got 20/5 vision now. Like an eagle." "You are reading my mind!" said Mr K. "Again, not really. Just saw you looking at my eyes. Why don't you come in for a closer look?" And Mr K felt himself being drawn toward Dwayne, aching to be closer. to catch his scent, to feel the heat coming off him. "Why don't you get on your knees, Mr K?" And Mr K felt his knees almost buckle underneath him as he went down to the floor. "Come over here and put your hands on my legs," said Dwayne. His voice had become deep and sexy, like a hot male porn star, with a drawl of extreme confidence. Dwayne reached into his sweats and pulled out his big dick. It plopped out, half-engorged and swelling fast. His musky scent hit Mr K like a drug. "Feed off me," said Dwayne. "I bet my muscle batter will help get rid of your dad paunch." Mr K was taken aback. He didn't have a dad bod! Yet, he knew he did. He just hoped he was fooling people by sucking his paunch in as much as he could. "You're not fooling anyone. Now feed off me," said Dwayne. And Mr K went down on him, aching for that big perfectly shaped cockhead more than anything he'd ever wanted. Dwayne grabbed him by his ears and guided him for awhile. He wondered if he should tell Mr K that he was sucking the same big cock that had been up Danny's ass the night before, but he decided not to. Instead, he let go of his ears, and grabbed onto the arms of the lounge chair, arching and bucking into Mr K's face. His cockhead had become vastly more sensitive to touch, and the pleasure of being serviced by an eager mouth made every powerful muscle in his body tense up. The sensation was transcendent. He arched his head back on the chair, his powerful neck bulging out wide. His strong, veiny hands pushed on the arms of the chair until the wooden frame snapped underneath the leather with a muffled Crack. Dwayne's precum was flowing freely out of his big helmet head, lubing up Mr K's throat, and it didn't take long before Dwayne was spewing out a huge load of hot cream, flooding Mr K with his muscle batter. "Awwww, yehh," growled Dwayne, as he spewed and spewed, rope after rope of thick paste. Mr K did his best to drain every drop of it. "Nice," said Dwayne, pulling Mr K's head off his hardon. "We'll have to do this again, soon," he said, stuffing his still hard python into his shorts. "I gotta get going for my fight. Sorry about your chair, Mr K. I'll pay for it with the money I'm gonna win tonight." He grabbed his shirt, balling it up into one hand. As he walked thru the kitchen, Dwayne looked around and said, "You know, if you ever want to remodel in here, let me know. I'd love to rip out these granite countertops." He put his fingers on the edge of the granite and lifted up. There was a loud crunching sound as the countertop lifted upward about an inch. "Yeah," said Dwayne, "these are loose. Time for an upgrade, Mr K." Then he left. Mr K watched from the kitchen door as Dwayne jogged down the driveway and up the street. He put his hand on his paunch, and thought it already felt flatter and harder. It couldn't be though, could it?

Trying something different between chapters of ‘Flex for class’. The scenario and protagonist for this are lifted from a fbb worship story I found on literotica called Best Seat On The Plane. This has always been a scenario I’ve dreamt of, so rewrote with a male bodybuilder and embellished a bit. I hope the original author doesn’t mind. Original story is here: https://www.literotica.com/s/best-seat-on-the-plane Plane Muscle John was sitting in Chicago airport at his gate, waiting patiently for his flight to Washington D.C. He had a conference the next day and was flying in the night before. Looking round at the people waiting for flights, he spotted a man who immediately stood out to him. His cock jolted in his pants at the sight of a huge bodybuilder less than 10 feet away. John had a secret love for well built men, the bigger the better. He had no idea why he loved men with muscles so much, but he learned over time not to fight his passion but embrace it. The crazy thing was, he had never met a bodybuilder before! His only experience was looking at pictures on the internet, or occasionally seeing one on the street or in a shopping centre. He always dreamed about what it would be like to meet one, and maybe even feel their muscles. The man he spotted was standing at the end of one of the aisles of seats looking at his phone. He was definitely a bodybuilder, and looked absolutely massive from where John was sitting. After the initial blur of seeing his presence from the corner of his eye, what John noticed was the size of his legs, which were visible because he was wearing mid length black shorts. His legs looked smooth with huge quad muscles, the bulges of which remained visible even under the material of the shorts. Just from standing there he could see incredible definition. When he would shift his weight from one leg to the other his muscles would contract and harden. His calves were also well defined and thick with size. He was wearing a lightweight long sleeve jacket, but he could see big round shoulders and beefy arms. The jacket draped around the waist, but everywhere else it hugged the man’s upper body tightly and was tautly stretched around his huge delts, arms, chest and back muscles. The bodybuilder swung round, now exposing to John how wide he was from the back. The seams of the jacket showed signs of unthreading due to the huge forces on them. He swung back and resumed poking his phone. Without thinking John got up to get a better view of him. He was pretending to do something with his phone as he got within a couple of feet. Just being this close to his incredible size was getting John excited as he positioned himself behind the mountain of muscle. He looked bigger than any man John had ever seen, or maybe it was because he had never seen such a huge bodybuilder this close before. John was an average man, standing 5’9” tall and weighing 150 pounds. Standing this close to the bodybuilder he had never felt weaker or smaller, the bigger guy having at least 5 inches on him. He was handsome too, with olive skin and a shaved head. His facial features were quite intense and masculine with hazel eyes. John couldn't place his nationality but guessed at French or Mediterranean. Trembling, he took a closer look from the side, and could see he was holding his ticket in a meaty hand. He could just make out they were on the same flight and his seat was 1A. John was disappointed their seats weren't closer, but bristled at the thought of sharing a plane with this goliath. But then he got an idea! It was a long shot but worth a go. "Hi may I help you?" The woman behind the counter asked. "Hello, I was wondering if it was possible to upgrade to first class?" John asked. "Let me see." The attendant started punching on her keyboard. "The farther up the better, something like 1A." John was hoping this would be enough to get close. "1A is taken but how about 1B. The upgrade fee is $199." The attendant offered. John's heart nearly leapt out of his chest it was beating so fast. He tried his best to calm himself so he didn't look crazy, but he was sure his legs might give out any second. "That would be perfect." He said. What a small price to pay to get the best seat on the plane he thought to himself. He walked back over to the seats to sit down and calm himself. He made sure that he could still see the muscular man from his vantage point. As he held his phone still looking at it, he could see massive mounds bulging under the sleeves. He had to be a super heavyweight John thought. The wait to board the plane seemed like it took forever as John sat impatiently sneaking peaks at the man. Finally the announcement was made that pre-boarding would begin. He looked over to see the muscle bull stand and make his way to boarding. Watching so much dense hard muscle move like this in real life was surreal! John tried to casually get up and fall in in line behind him. The way his heart was racing he was sure it was less than casual. He was directly behind the guy now, taking in his massive frame. His shoulders were so wide and round John couldn't believe his eyes. He must have been in off season to be this big, and yet he still had great separation in his legs. It didn't take long to get through the line and soon they were making their way down the jet bridge to the plane. The bodybuilder walked with confident, heavy stomps in front of John, his arms hanging away from his body due to his huge lats. John couldn't take his eyes off the calves that flexed with every step, and his dick chubbed in his tight briefs as the sight. As they approached the cabin door, passengers boarded the plane and were greeted by the attendant. The muscle man however, had to turn side on to walk through. John could not believe how thick this guy’s upper body was. Side on he was as wide as a normal man! John had never flown first class before and felt like royalty. In front of him, the bodybuilder was already putting his carry-on in the overhead compartment and taking his seat by the window. John put his luggage above as well and looked down to see the man struggling to take off his jacket. What an amazing sight. He looked hard as a rock and bulging all over. He wasn’t contest ready as John thought he might have been before, but not in the depths of off season some bodybuilders got into. He had that jacked roid cycle look, like he was constantly swelling up. Underneath the jacket he had on a tight fitting white t shirt. His arms, shoulders, and chest were exploding out of it. He must have felt John staring because he looked up and gave him a warm smile. "Is this your seat?" The huge man asked, pointing to 1B. John realized he was staring and snapped out of his trance to take the seat next to him. His voice was masculine, deep and… French! Good guess “.... um, Yep! 1B! ….That’s me!” John sank into the seat, mortified at what he had said. He didn't know what to say or do and just sat in his seat looking straight ahead, dick throbbing and twitching between his thigh and jeans. "Can I get you something to drink?" The flight attendant bent down to ask them. "Sure I’ll have a water." "I'll also have a water." John reflexively responded. He was so nervous as he sat there looking straight ahead. He realized that the guy might be thinking he is one of those closed minded people that disagree with his lifestyle. He was trying to think of anything to do or say but his mind was blank. The flight attendant came back with their waters and John and the man thanked her. The seats in first class were a little bigger than back in coach, yet the muscular man was so big he filled the entire seat and still managed to push up against John's shoulder and arm. John was in a light oxford button down, but the electricity off feeling the man swelling up against his shoulder was palpable. He found himself leaning away because he was so nervous to even touch him. The huge muscle mountain must have caught on… "Hey, I'm Alex by the way." he had his hand extended toward John in a greeting. It was huge, thick and looked textured through years of work outs. John took it and the man shook his hand firmly. "um...John." "Nice to meet you John, are you heading to D.C for business or pleasure." he asked in a deep French accent. John was so thankful he was breaking the ice with casual conversation. His hazel eyes had a kindness to them that instantly made John relax a little. "Business, I am attending a conference tomorrow." He offered. "What is your business?" he asked. "I am a software engineer for a mid-sized company. We provide contracting services for telecom companies mostly." "Interesting." he said. John was sure this must have been the most boring conversation, but Alex had an honesty to him that made even John’s boring job sound like it was fascinating. John was doing everything in his power to maintain eye contact. He wanted so badly to sneak a peek at Alex’s gigantic body but knew that he needed to play it cool. "How about you? Business or pleasure?" He asked. "A little of both, I have never been to D.C. so I am hoping to see the sights. The company I work for has it's headquarters there and I will be doing some training on Monday." "Oh, so you have the whole weekend to enjoy the city." "Yes, that's the plan." he said. "I lived in D.C. for about 5 years, it is a great city to explore." John offered. "Any suggestions? I didn't really plan anything, I just decided to fly in early and look around." John was more relaxed now as he was talking to Alex about something he knew about. People were still boarding the plane as John started telling him all his favourite spots in the D.C. Alex listened to everything he was saying with rapt attention. John was 30 and was pretty sure Alex was around the same age. His skin had that mature look to it but with no visible signs of aging, yet given his muscle size he must have been bodybuilding for a long time. “Sorry you have to be sat next to the big lug by the way. I’ll try not to squash you too much!” Alex offered with smile and a giggle, a routine John felt like he might have had to do before. He was as charming as he was big! “Oh! No problem. Anyway, I hardly take up any space” “Thank you John! Some people… are not so nice about it” “Well, it’s fine by me” John smiled, relaxing back into his seat and no longer feeling awkward at feeling Alex’s awesome body swelling over the armrest in to him. In fact, it felt amazing. The cabin doors were closed now and John felt the familiar feeling of the plane backing up away from the terminal. Alex took a deep breath, his incredible chest and shoulders swelling upward and outward, pushing against John so that he could feel the dense thickness of muscle again. They were silent for a few minutes as Alex looked ahead. "John, I have a confession to make." Alex said. "What’s that?" John asked, intrigued. "I don't fly very much and I get nervous when the plane is taking off. I am usually fine when we are in the air, I just… I need to get through the first part." he was gripping the armrest showing thick ropes of muscle popping out on his forearm, a bead of sweat on his forehead. John’s eyes widened at the sight as he snuck a peak when Alex wasn't looking. He must have lingered too long because when he looked up, Alex was looking at him through the corner of his eyes with interest. "It helps me to talk. It takes my mind off it." he continued. "OK, well, I’ll see what I can do." John said. "Also…” Alex paused, “You can ask me about my muscles, it's OK. Most people don't know what to make of me or are too scared to ask." He was so forward and honest. John wasn't sure how to respond. Should he come clean and be honest, or hide his true feelings on the subject? “Oh, well people can be intimidated to talk about that sort of thing!” John offered as a halfway house. “And plus, well you are huge!” Alex only nodded back. "Actually Alex. I… I have a confession as well." John finally said. "What is it?" Alex asked with authentic interest, pleased to be distracted. "I am a huge fan of bodybuilders." John said. Alex’s face softened hearing this, and he temporarily forgot about the take off. "How big of a fan? Who was the last man to win the Mr Olympia?" Alex quizzed him, half joking, half intrigued to see how genuine John was being. "That's easy, I could list every man who won Mr Olympia." John retorted. "OK smarty pants, list them for me." And off John went listing every Mr O from Larry Scott to Phil Heath, even throwing in the odd fact or personal favourite along the way. "Wow, that's better than I can do, I think you proved your point." he looked at John surprised. "So when you were giving me those funny looks before..." Fuck! How far back had he noticed? "Sorry about that. It's just that you’re clearly a bodybuilder and I was kind of… awestruck." John admitted. “I’ve… never been this close up to a guy as big as you before. It’s … well, incredible” he gulped. Alex nodded his head understandingly. "I am a bodybuilder; I have been training hard core for over 12 years now." he said matter of factly. "Wow, that's amazing. I have the most respect for your discipline. I workout with weights on and off but can never keep the focus to achieve what you have. Have you ever competed?" John asked. "No, I do it for myself. I have never had the courage to get up in front of a huge crowd like that." "I am sure if you did you would thrash the competition." John stated Alex looked over at him and smiled. "Thanks; I really appreciate an expert like you saying that. What else do you want to know." he offered. "How strong are you?" Alex’s smile got even bigger, as he turned slightly in his seat, the view of his body getting wider and wider to John. "Very strong." he said confidently, leaning toward John as he said it. John just stared back and gulped. All this talk about Alex’s muscles was getting him hard, but the way he leaned toward him now sent blood pumping through his cock. "I have never completely maxed myself out because it can be dangerous, but I don't think there are many men who come even close to my strength." "Really?" John was looking at him with his eyes wide and mouth open. "Really." Alex answered. "How much are we talking?" John asked. "I have pushed out over 500 lbs. I had spotters, but I did it completely unassisted." "Whoaaa." John was completely shocked. "I can squat 700 lbs. safely, but I wouldn't want to go higher." "That's...crazy." John managed to say. He looked down at Alex’s massive legs. They were like tree trunks and dwarfed his own legs by comparison. Up close they were slightly hairy, covered by paper thin skin. Three large mounds were visible on the top of each leg and John could only imagine how they would look if he flexed. Alex saw him looking at legs. “I have to wear shorts most of the time. Trousers and jeans tend not get round these” he said, patting his thigh lightly. Alex listed off some of his other accomplishments which were just stupendous. He had the strength of a powerlifter but the definition and thickness of an off season bodybuilder, which made for the most amazing combination. John’s dick throbbed as Alex described some of his feats of strength. There was one occasion where Alex had been spotting another guy on the bench. The man was struggling on his last set pressing 100kg. Alex had lifted the bar off him with one hand. Some of the other members noticed and challenged him to curl the weight with one arm. He had knocked out ten reps with almost no effort. On another occasion, someone had parked the front of their car across two parking bays. Alex had lifted the front half of the car and dragged it across into one bay. The airplane was lining up on the runway now and getting ready to rev the engines for take off. Up to this point Alex hadn't noticed and been completely relaxed talking to John. The plane started to accelerate and Alex couldn't help but notice the plane was preparing for take off. He closed his eyes and pushed his head back in the head rest again. His entire body seemed to tense up and John couldn't help but notice how much bigger his arms swelled up. He had a vice grip on the armrests again, causing his forearms to harden and flex. His upper body exploded with muscle as he tensed up. His biceps bulged, showing massive size and formed into huge mounds the size of grapefruits. His pecs looked amazing as they stretched the white cotton even further as they swelled up. His tight white top did nothing to hide Alex’s huge muscles, especially now as the fear taking over his body made him swell up bigger than ever. His chest was fully flexed, almost hitting his chin. John was drinking in every second he had to get a good look at his body. Alex’s shoulders were massive and looked like they were carved out of stone. Suddenly he was snapped out of his hypnotised state, as a disturbing sound filled the air. It was like metal popping. Alex’s grip on the armrests was getting tighter, his thick strong fingers digging into the steel. John’s mouth dropped open at what he was seeing. Alex was crushing the armrests in his hands. The first class plane seats were constructed of thick steel plates, but right now, Alex was crushing them in his hands like John would a juice carton. Alex’s huge forearms had so much power in them, he had nearly formed a fist. His face was scrunched up and he was emitting a low pitched growl, like he was about to set a new world record for a strength record. John tried a relaxation trick. He counted back from 10, and told Alex a fact about D.C in between each number, assuring him that when they got to number 1, they’d be up in the air, flying smoothly. John made each fact a little longer. Alex continued to scrunch up the inch thick steel plates into a ball, and was now breathing very heavily. It made John’s cock swell and release precum. Alex had not lied when he said there weren’t many men as strong as him; and now John was seeing it first hand. The relaxation technique was working though, and Alex’s face gradually returned to its handsome relaxed position, his eyes still closed, his pumped chest still flexed, touching his chin. The plane was almost done climbing as it started to level out. John looked at his handsome face and could see his full lips were slightly parted, his breath almost panting. His muscles started to relax as he calmed down. He lowered his head and opened his eyes looking over to John and gave him a warm smile. "Thank you for taking my mind off flying. I would have been a mess if it wasn't for you." he said as he reached over and squeezed John's hand. John flinched slightly. This muscle bull’s hand had just crushed an armrest into smithereens, and now it was wrapping round his own. But Alex knew his strength, and was gentle to his smaller friend. John's hands were in his lap trying desperately to cover up the raging erection he had from the sight of Alex’s feat of strength. Alex’s big hand lingered on John’s for a couple of seconds as he looked into John’s eyes and finally removed his hand. He felt so relaxed with John, and found himself enjoying a flight for the first time in his life. "It was my pleasure, I enjoy talking to you." John said as he returned a smile. “buuuut, something’s a mess!” he added, nodding to the armrests. Alex gave another broad smile “c’est risque professionnel” he retorted, like this might not be the first time something like this happened. “Wow. That is some occupational hazard!” John replied, running his hand over the crumpled up remains of the armrest. Alex raised his eyebrows, impressed he didn’t have to translate for his new companion. Nevertheless, he wanted to move the conversation to John for a bit. He changed gears. "So tell me, when did you become a fan of bodybuilding?" "Uh...since I was born I guess. I have memories of admiring muscle on men as far back as I can remember." John admitted. "Really?" Alex was getting more intrigued by the minute "Yeah, it's kind of a rare thing I guess; to see someone of your size and musculature, so there are a few vivid memories that stand out. Once I remember being at a restaurant when I was very young, maybe 10 or 11, and there was a waiter that had a visible bicep bulging through his white shirt. He wasn’t a bodybuilder like you, but I noticed it bulge even more when he was carrying the heavy trays of food around. I remember watching him the whole time just waiting to see if I could get another view of his bicep." Alex was nodding his head as he looked at him with interest. “So, how do you know it’s muscle you have an interest in and not tight white shirts?” To John’s delight, Alex bounced his pecs one at a time as he said this, emphasising just how tight his shirt was over his gargantuan body. John teetered. “I never thought of that! Next time I’ll ask the waiter to try a different shirt on, so I can check your theory” Alex treated him to the most adorable little chuckle he had ever seen. John’s heart began to flutter as he continued. It was almost therapeutic having never talked to anyone about this. "To a lesser extent, I also remember World’s Strongest Man at a young age. The strongmen looked amazing to me; the way their huge bodies loomed over the presenters, and the incredible amounts of weight they could move. It was like waking up for the first time when I saw them” “So then, why do you say to a lesser extent?” Alex asked. “Well, only a few strongmen had the amazing physique of a bodybuilder, and they tended not to be the strongest ones. In fact, I’ve never been aware of anyone who combined the physique of a Mr Olympia with the raw strength of a World’s Strongest Man…” John somewhat trailed off realising that he might now be sitting next to the type of man he just described. He paused, not sure if he should continue. He didn't want to scare Alex off. "I know what you mean, I had similar thoughts, although from a different perspective. As a boy I remember seeing really huge men and I found their strength fascinating. Especially feeling like I could be even bigger and stronger than them one day. So when was the first time you saw a bodybuilder?" Alex asked. "I was a teenager, flipping through the channels and stumbled upon a Mr O competition. It was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen. The men were amazing, like… prize bulls! I remember seeing Nasser el Sonbaty for the first time and being in complete awe that a man could have muscle development like that." John froze. “Muscle bulls”! Would Alex take that as an insult? "Who won that year?" Alex asked. John continued, relieved "I remember like it was yesterday, it was an interesting time that I came in the middle of. It was Dorian Yates. Remember, I had never seen men with muscle like this before and I remember being very confused. To me it seemed obvious that Dorian or Nasser should win, their muscles were unreal, like nothing I had ever seen." "Oh yeah, that was the time they were trying to shift away from the muscle freaks." Alex added. "Ha! I don’t think it worked. All I knew at that moment was how incredibly muscled and strong they looked." "Then what?" Alex prodded. "As a teenager I had just witnessed the most incredible sight I had ever seen. Now I was looking for more. I found a store that sold what I think was the greatest magazine at the time. Flex. It was really hard to find where I lived, but it was awesome. Then, at school there was a boy who got into lifting weights. He got pretty big, but again, never approached IFBB pro level, like you” John didn't tell him about some of the videos he used to order. Mostly workout and lifestyle videos the Olympia contestants used to release in the 90s. John would whack off to them, loving being able to see these huge monsters pump up and pose, grunting all the while. "I kept my eye open for anything else on TV, but it was like the well dried up. There were a few smaller shows that I found, but that was pretty much it. Now years later I know that I came in at the end of its initial popularity, or at least it's exposure was limited." He finished. “And how did it make you feel, John?” Alex asked, his eyes twinkling and intense. “Uuh. Good. I felt good. Seeing them was like art”. It was the best compromise he could think of to say at the time. John was quiet, he felt like he had done a lot of talking and was curious what Alex had to say about what he said. "I love how you describe your passion for muscle. So simple and pure. I agree with you, it's like art. I feel like I am an artist molding my body. For me I didn't see a bodybuilder till I was almost 14. I already knew it was something I wanted and seeing it for real changed my life. At the gym they had pictures of bodybuilders and I would look at that and dream of having muscles like that for myself. Feeling my muscles grow and thicken at that age was amazing! It's hard to explain, I have just always wanted to be well built and strong as a … ox." He gave John a smile and a wink at the last bit. "It's just who we are so why fight it." John commented, as much to himself as to Alex. "So what about you, you look like you are in shape, how do you keep so nice and trim?" Alex asked. "I have been working out, on and off for about 5 years. I would love to be huge myself but my body just didn’t respond. Couldn’t keep the weight on." He said, dejected. "Maybe you just need the right teacher, who have you worked with?" Alex asked. "Nobody, I just do my own research and try to figure it out myself." John admitted. "I think we just found the problem. I have always had people helping me at my gym, nothing beats someone with experience." "How long have you been training?" John asked. "I have been hard-core training for about 12 years now. I had a pretty good base when I started, I was already a very strong boy. I started lifting when I was a teenager. When I was about 16, a bodybuilder at my gym started to help me train and I got the right diet and exercise program and started to really make gains." he said proudly. “In two years I was bigger than most of the other men who used the gym. Some didn’t like an 18 year old boy being one of the biggest and strongest guys there, so I learned early not to take offence if people objected to my big muscles.” Alex really liked talking about his past, and John was hanging on every word. To hear how Alex was able to transform his body into the man he saw before him was the most fascinating story to John While Alex was talking about his life, the trials and tribulations of growing so huge, he would move his hands around for emphasis. John would try to catch a glimpse here and there when he thought he wasn't looking. Alex either didn't notice or didn't care because he didn't mention how John’s eyes were darting all over his body. It was incredible to watch his biceps grow and form as he moved his arms around. The conversation drifted to other topics and the pair started to really hit it off. Pretty soon they were joking and talking like old friends. There seemed to be a mutual connection; John couldn't help but notice Alex would reach out and touch his hand or leg. It was like lightning when he touched him. The pilot came over the cabin speaker to announce that they would be landing in D.C. in about 20 minutes. John could see Alex tense up with the news as he pushed his head back in the seat to try and calm himself. John felt what was left of the shared armrest. How had Alex crunched this up like Play dough? It was solid steel to John, albeit it now with the dips and grooves of Alex’s fingers. Alex held John’s hand over the hand rest, and after a few seconds of pleasure at this feeling, John thought it might be best to get his hand out of the way. Alex spoke. "John, can I ask you something?" he said. "Sure." Alex lowered his voice, and again, leaned in close to John "What would you do if I flexed my arm for you?" John was too shocked to even respond as he sat there contemplating what to say. He could no longer, and no longer wanted, to hide his excitement at the mere mention of Alex’s muscles. He instantly got an extremely hard erection. And this time Alex didn't hide the fact that he noticed. He looked right at John’s crotch and smiled at him. Alex continued, "The way you talk about bodybuilders and muscle… I have a hunch you would really enjoy it. And I have another confession:" he paused "I would enjoy it too." John swallowed hard staring back into those alluring eyes. "I would… yes, I would like that." Alex looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. The other passengers were snoozing or focused on their devices. The flight attendants were doing their last minute checks and taking their seats around the corner. He stretched his arm out over John’s body, the back of his fist grazing John’s hard on. Slowly and with intent he pumped his bicep up, 1, 2, then 3 times, flexing hard the last time, the round hard muscle pushing the fabric of his stretchy T to it’s limit. "Go ahead.” He said “Touch it." John reached his shaking hands round cupping Alex’s amazing peak with one, and feeling the huge hanging tricep with the other. It literally felt like a rock was under his skin. With both hands wrapped around he couldn't touch his fingers because of the immense size. He slid his hands up feeling Alex’s shoulders, again it took both hands to span his incredible size. He could feel the ripples of muscle forming ridges and valleys all along his boulder sized muscle. "That feels so good." Alex whispered. "Do you like what you feel?" "It's better than my wildest dreams." John whispered back. Alex moaned and started pumping his bicep making it slowly grow and swell up more. John moved his hand back down so he could feel the transformation. These had to be the biggest arms he’d ever seen, he knew they were big but seeing them flexed he couldn't recall anything so huge. John let out a moan of pleasure as he felt Alex’s rock hard bicep under the warm skin. He could feel the power emanating from his arm as it stood unmoving and flexed. Alex had been watching his muscles pump up, and John’s hands moving over them. Now he looked up to take in his admirer’s face, and felt his heart flutter for the impact he knew his power was having. Alex held his other hand over John’s on his bicep. Him, feeling John feeling his bicep. “What do they feel like John?” “They’re… they’re so incredibly hard. Big and hard. I can feel how powerful they are just by touching them” “Hmmmmm…” Alex purred at John’s description “John, feel my strong forearms too” His hand clasped around the huge thickness of Alex’s immense forearms. They were bigger than most guys biceps. Alex moved his fist around, rippling the cords of muscle and veins around in John’s hands. “Squeeze it. See if you can make a dent” John gripped the wrist and upper forearm with all his strength. He didn’t move Alex’s muscle one iota. Then suddenly he was squashing the muscle as Alex stopped flexing. The doughy muscle still felt powerful and grainy. Then BAM! Alex flexed again and they were rock hard. His fist was still straight up in the air flexing as he opened his hand and reached over to caress John's cheek. John whimpered at his touch, his lips parting. Alex moved the hand behind John’s neck and squeezed slightly, then began pulling the smaller man towards him. They both started leaning in and locked lips in the most passionate kiss John had ever had. Alex’s lips were full and strong as they connected together with the feeling of so much emotion. It was like they were two lost souls that finally completed each other. The plane was rocking in it's final approach but in that moment they were in their own world. They kissed passionately for a couple of minutes until Alex pulled back before things got out of hand. They were forehead to forehead now looking at each other as they were coming down from their high. "Wow." Was all Alex could manage to say. "Yeah." John said back between heavy breaths. Alex took one of John's hands and placed it on his massive chest. John could feel his heart racing beneath multiple layers of dense muscle. "Do you feel that, my heart is racing right now." Alex said. John nodded emphatically as they were gazing at each other. Alex's chest started rising and hardening under John’s hand. The shirt looked like it was stretching to it's limit as his pecs were pushing out, causing the shirt to push down like his pecs couldn't be contained. John felt all over the hard ripped surface of Alex’s chest, enjoying the deep valley between the two enormous mounds. Alex playfully bounced each pec, alternating back and forth causing them to rise and fall. He never stopped looking at John as he watched the pure wonder and enjoyment he was able to give him with his body. He could see the spell he was casting on John as he truly transported him out of reality. Alex relaxed back into his seat to allow John to calm down before he got too excited. John looked up and met his gaze. They both leaned in again and shared another passionate kiss. The plane had landed now as Alex realized for the first time that he had made it through with no worries. The first time ever. John put his head on Alex’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around the massive arm like it was a teddy bear. He felt safe and protected. "Thank you for taking my mind off the flight. I have never been so good during a landing, I didn't even notice we were on the ground." he said. "Are you kidding me. You just made my biggest dream a reality, I should be thanking you." John replied. They sat there content for a moment before Alex spoke up again. "John, would you...do you want to hang out when we get off the plane?" John looked up stunned. "Yes, whatever you are up for I am in." He wasn't sure what he had in mind but the thought of spending more time with Alex was all that mattered to him. "I didn't really plan out my first couple of days, I was just going to take a chance, I don't even book a hotel." "Uh...well I can help you find a hotel." John offered. "Where are you staying?" he asked. "The Washington Hotel on K street" John answered. "How about we share a cab and I will see if they have any rooms available." "Sure." He responded. They were like two love birds cuddling and chatting as the plane made its way to the gate. They were the first to exit the cabin and hurried down the jet bridge. Once in the terminal John took charge having been here so many times. Alex was happy to let him be in control, relaxing at not having to worry where he would go or what was coming next. The airport was small and close to the city. Neither of them had checked baggage so they walked to the exit where they got a cab to the city. Alex took John’s hand in the cab, gently squeezing it. John got hard again, remembering that just a few hours earlier that same hand had demolished a solid piece of metal. They didn't talk much in the cab but continued holding hands and looking at each other every once in a while exchanging smiles. It was past rush hour so took no time for the cab to get to the hotel where John was staying. John paid the cab and the pair walked into the hotel lobby making their way to the front desk. John went first and got his arrangements all set. After he was done he pointed out a seat where he went to sit down and wait for Alex to see if he could get a room. He watched Alex at the counter still amazed at how handsome he was as he talked to the hotel desk clerk. It didn't take long and soon he was walking toward John at the bench. His quads were massive and John still couldn’t believe how they bulged with each step. "They are all booked up." he said. "Oh.. What do you want to do?" John asked unsure how to play it. "Would you mind if we go up to your room so I can figure out what to do next?" he responded. "Of course, sure. Let's go." They made their way to the elevators. Alex took his hand as they walked and gave it a little squeeze as he looked down at him. "Thanks for helping." "Whatever you need, I'm here to help." As they were standing waiting for the elevators John could feel an electricity in the air. Alex was standing close, his freakishly thick forearms brushing against John’s. The bell dinged. They were joined by others in the elevator, so neither of them talked but they kept looking at each other, smiling. Alex pressed his body against John’s and rubbed his back lovingly. The doors opened and John led the way to his room. He swiped the card to unlock the door and opened it for Alex as he motioned for him to go in. Alex strode in and John followed, flipping on the lights to get a good look at the room. The minute the door swung shut, Alex turned around to face John. There was a pause of a few seconds as the two men took each other in. Then, Alex moved forward and effortlessly picked John up so he was holding him in his arms. John wrapped his arms around Alex’s thick neck as they drew in to kiss. This was even more passionate than on the plane as their tongues explored each others mouths. Alex’s jaw and even tongue felt muscular to John. He was certainly a dominant kisser. The sexual tension had been building and was finally being released as they let go of their inhibitions. "I want to show you my body." Alex said, panting. "I think you will be blown away." John nodded vigorously at this suggestion, once again lost for words at Alex’s amazing frankness about the power his body would have. Alex set him down on the bed and took a step back “You like muscle? Watch this” Alex said with cock of his head. Then, he slowly raised his arms and flexed. Two loud pops were head as the sleeves of Alex’s jacket popped at the peak. “Nnnmmgh Yeah!” He growled “What about bodybuilder shoulders?” He brought his arms down into a most muscular. Two more pops were heard as his delts exploded through the jacket. He turned around and intensified the pose. A long rip suddenly appeared on the back of the jacket and continued to grow as Alex flex harder. He grabbed what was left of the material and tore it off his body. Crossing his arms over his body, he slowly peeled off his shirt, revealing freakishly developed muscles covered in a light layer of hair. He unbuckled his belt and pushed the waistband down slightly, but the shorts stayed put, clinging around his huge butt muscles and thighs which would not allow them to drop. He nodded down at them, indicating John should take them off. Tugging the shorts off over Alex’s immense thighs felt incredible to John. And he couldn’t help noticing that Alex was tenting in his tight grey briefs, a spot of precum showing through. When he was done he stood there, body tensed like he was standing on a bodybuilding stage letting John drink him in. He was massive but had nice definition; the off season roided look was John’s favourite. His shoulders were extremely wide with big round delts. Sitting on top of his shoulders were gigantic, thick round traps that were bulging on either side of his 20 inch neck. John could see huge lats flaring out on his sides causing his arms to hang outward instead of down. They were so wide it made his waist look small even though John could tell it was thickly muscled. He looked like he had at least an 8 pack and his waist was nicely bulging with the beginning of an HGH belly. His obliques were so thick the gaps looked like they could fit John’s entire hand. His chest was wide and massive with undulating rock hard pecs. The smallest movement would make his chest twitch and ripple. His massive tree trunk legs balanced out his frame. John could see deep grooves separating each individual muscle making him look like a living anatomy chart. "You need to get more comfortable." Alex commanded as he moved closer to John and started taking his clothes off until he was down to his pants, like Alex. John’s massive erection was screaming against his cotton underwear and Alex grabbed onto it with both hands and started stroking it lovingly. His own erection was the crowning glory of his thick muscular body. It was so pumped that the briefs material was stretching away from his body, creating a gap between the waist band and his blocky abs. "I think we need some oil" he let go of John's erection, opened his bag and pulled out a little bottle of oil, handing it to John. "Rub me with this." he ordered. John wasted no time pouring it into his hand and started rubbing him all over. He loved how Alex’s skin was like supple calf leather stretched tight over grainy rock. John was in heaven feeling every inch of Alex’s hard physique. Not even flexing Alex’s muscles were still hard. "Oh my god your muscles are magnificent. Your arms look like they could be as big as another bodybuilders legs." He said as he tried to wrap his hands around Alex’s gigantic arm. "John; they are! I think my measurements are closest to Dorian Yates at the peak of his 95 off season right now, when he was in his prime. Except two areas, our height and waist size are different. He was 6 feet and I am 6 foot 3 and my waist is about 36 inches right now." Alex brought his arm up and flexed it, showing it's full size which was breathtaking. "I am proud to say my arms just this week hit the 23 inch mark." John stood there completely in shock by his measurements. It made sense because he could see Alex was huge, but hearing his size just stopped him in his tracks. "When I was 16 I already had really nicely developed arms that measured 12 inches with a nice little bicep peak. I started training serious and grew about an inch a year. I never plateaued and still feel like I can grow even more.” He flexed a most muscular, letting out an intimidating groan. “I don’t know. I must have good genetics or something. What do you think?” He flexed an arm up in front of John’s face who was taking in every detail. Alex rubbed some of the oil off his body and grabbed ahold of John’s erection again, stroking it up and down with long strokes working the oil in through the cotton fabric. Alex pinched the front of John’s oily, pre cummed underwear with one hand then both. He pulled apart and ripped the front open like it was tissue paper. John’s dick sprung out, leaking another glob of precum. "I want to flex for you John, but I need a good pump first, will you help me?" he asked staring down into John’s eyes with an alluring power. "Y..Yes!" John stammered. "Call me your Giant Muscle Bull. I think it is fitting." he ordered. "Yes my Giant Muscle Bull!" John responded. Alex stood up straight and covered his face with the remains of John’s briefs. He took a deep breath, held it in, then let out a deep, powerful sigh. He repeated this three times, while rubbing his cock on the outside of his own underwear with his thick thumb. He threw the remains of John’s briefs on the floor and layed on his belly in push up position. "I need more weight for my pump, lay on my back while I do a couple of sets." John did as he was instructed. He laid on Alex’s back feeling the incredibly hard muscles beneath him. His cock slid nicely between Alex’s hard butt cheeks over his sweat drenched underwear, and he could feel him tightening and loosening giving the most incredible sensation through his dick. It was like Alex was giving him a hand job with his butt. He put his hands on Alex’s massive shoulders to steady himself as he started pumping up and down with slow controlled reps. It was like some new incredible sex position John had never done as he rode this muscle beast up and down. His butt flexed with every exertion continuing the incredible feeling on John’s cock. After 20 reps he paused. John took this opportunity to feel around his arms and shoulders, amazed by the hardness. Alex moaned underneath him at the sensation of the smaller man massaging his muscles. "Mmmm...that feels so good, I love it when you touch me." he said breathlessly. John rested his face between the two massive trap muscles and not being able to resist anymore started to kiss them uncontrollably. Alex moaned with pleasure at being kissed and worshiped. "Hold on tight for another set baby." he said. With no hesitation he raised them up again starting slow and building speed. John took his advice and wrapped his arms around Alex so that his hands came underneath. He cupped his massive pec muscles with his hands and held on tight. The feeling of Alex’s rock hard chest under his hands and the way his cock was being rubbed by Alex’s cotton covered butt was beginning to prove too much for John, who could feel a huge load brewing in his balls. Alex was pumping them both up and down in a smooth rapid pace. His pecs felt like massive boulders with ridges running all along the surface. After some reps he finally stopped and dropped down to his belly again. He began grinding his dick into the floor, the alternative movement squeezing John’s cock even more between the hard butt cheeks. "Hold on tight." he said. With John still on Alex’s back he got to all fours and stood up as if he wasn't carrying a thing. John wrapped his legs around Alex’s waist. He held on tight around Alex’s swelling muscular neck as Alex lowered himself into a squat position and straightened again. John's cock was rubbing up and down with every dip which was enhanced by the oil. Alex did 20 dips with John on his back and showed no sign of slowing down. John was starting to moan as he felt himself getting close to a release. It was like the thick muscles running down the bodybuilder’s back were made to massage John’s cock. Alex must have sensed how excited John was getting and stopped his squats. "Come here baby, let me help you and get an arm workout at the same time." he motioned for him to come around and face him. John was amazed at how effortlessly Alex was able to lift and move him around like he was light as a feather. They kissed once more, enjoying the feeling of being in each other’s arms. They did that for a couple of minutes and then Alex brought him up to readjust. This time he held him so that John was cradled in his huge arms with his cock standing straight up like a flagpole. They paused and stared at each other for a moment, John not quite believing this man could hold him so easily like a child, Alex thrilled to be holding such a grateful worshipper in his arms. It was a curling position for Alex and he lifted John and wrapped his mouth around John’s cock and started sucking while he curled him up and down plunging his cock into his mouth with each rep. After a couple of blissful minutes John started shaking and moaning uncontrollably. Alex stopped the reps. “Where baby? Where do you want to cum?” “Abs, rub me against your abs!” John held himself back. He could have cum any time in the last couple of hours, but these last few seconds were the hardest. Alex knew what to do. He repositioned John against his body in the most loving bearhug, one hand under John’s butt, the other around his body, pushing the smaller man’s cock into the ridge between his blocky abs. He rubbed John’s entire body effortlessly up and down the ridges of his thick hard belly. John grabbed a hold of Alex’s pumped rock hard biceps. “You like that baby? You like these jacked hard muscles??” “Uuuuuuh! UU” John forgot language. He forgot everything but the huge hard muscle man now giving him the biggest orgasm of his life. He blew his initial load and it was so powerful it shot up through the gap between Alex’s thick pecs. Another load of cum oozed out, flowing like lava through the ridges of Alex’s 8 pack. Alex held John tight in his bear hug, enjoying John’s shaking, convulsing body. After a few more seconds he dropped John on the bed and seemed energized by the whole thing. "Oh yeah." he said as he raised his arms up and struck a huge double bicep pose. He looked from one bicep to the other admiring his own body, relishing in the reaction he had just had on the other man. John looked up amazed at the sight before him, as Alex’s cantaloup sized biceps stuck out looking harder than ever. Each bicep had a thick vein that ran along the top and made them look even taller. “350 lbs of rock hard French beef! You wanna touch these muscles again baby??” The sight of his amazing biceps made John hub the last few globs of cum out of his still throbbing cock. He never considered himself a stud in bed, but Alex's amazing body had him so turned on he felt like he could go all night. "Wow, it looks like someone is ready for round 2." Alex said as he was eyeing John’s erect penis. Alex struck another pose, this time bringing his arms down and in front so his traps and pecs were flexing. His chest exploded with shredded muscle forming huge basketball sized mounds. His cleavage pressed tightly together looking like it could crack a walnut. John's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open as he was mesmerized by Alex’s amazing size and development. "Like art?" Alex asked him. "Yes, the most amazing art I have ever seen. You are beautiful my rock hard muscle bull." Alex smiled and struck another pose. He brought his arms over his head and stuck out one of his legs. John didn't know what to look at first. His arms looked even bigger as he put at them on either side of his head. The peaks were bulging out and one of his arms looked bigger than John’s head. He moved his waist around in a sexy slow motion dance flexing his abs and obliques. Each square shaped muscle stuck out in perfect symmetry showing 8 clearly defined abs. Framing them were thick obliques that ran the length of his sides and formed a V down to his now fully pumped dick. The fabric of the tight grey pants had small tears appearing, as his thick muscular cock strained for release. His massive leg was stretched toward John and he could see each quad muscle bulging out causing deep valleys between them. Each muscle was etched with striations that ran up and down showing every muscle fiber in detail. He continued to move from one pose to another giving John the most amazing personal pose down. He moaned and grunted with each pose, getting himself more and more worked up at the power his powerful body was having over his small admirer. "Come to me John and worship my muscles." he commanded. "Yes my Bull" He replied as he stood up to join him. His massive erection was standing straight up as he stood next to Alex. Alex continued to pose for him as John eagerly started to caress and feel him all over driving his cock into Alex’s powerful thighs and obliques. His body was as hard as it looked. John’s hands glided over the smooth oiled skin feeling every detail. They were moaning in unison as each of them were aroused by the other. John thrust his cock against Alex’s tenting grey briefs. They were now soaking wet with sweat and the cum of both men. Alex moaned as he allowed himself to finally flex his cock. As they pressed their bodies together and started to grind, Alex nearly climaxed; his thick muscular dick stood to full attention. He tore off the remains with his hands as he had with John’s. He grabbed the back of John’s head and rubbed the briefs over John’s face. “Take that in baby! Smell your big strong muscle bull’s manly stench. Does it turn you on?” John nodded and moaned, his hands reaching out for Alex’s body to steady himself. Alex threw the pants to the side and John started to kiss Alex all over his body, running his tongue along the deep grooves that his huge muscles formed. The more into his body he got the more Alex responded. It was like he was giving Alex an orgasm without intercoarse as he was roaring for more. "Your muscles are so beautiful and hard!" John said between kisses. Alex responded with an orgasmic moan. He was precumming hard now as he was begging for John to continue. He was flexing harder than ever now, relishing the feeling of hands worshipping his thick dense muscle. His eyes were closed as a feeling of ecstasy washed over his whole body. "Taste me! Touch me!" he demanded. John was kissing Alex’s chest which was exploding with muscle, his huge nipples were engorged and hard. John’s arms were reaching around Alex, holding on to his rock hard glutes so he could grind into him harder. “NNgh.. AAAAAAAaaaaaaargh! FUCK” Alex boomed as his muscular cock exploded cum all over his small worshipper. Alex, who was still moaning aggressively, let out a final thick volley of cum. As he came down from his orgasm, he reached down and started to stroke John's cock. Then, he reached round and grabbed John’s butt. Lifting the smaller man off the floor, he rubbed John’s dick all around his rock hard obliques. He threw John down on the bed and climbed on top of him, letting his weight crush his admirer, feeling their cocks rub against one another. John continued praising his muscles which Alex loved. Alex would flare his lats out so that John could grab onto them like handles. Then he would pinch Alex’s shoulder blades together which would cause all the muscles to bunch up forming a mountain range down the middle. They were orgasming again, not being able to control their desire for each other. Alex was grunting uncontrollably at the peak of another orgasm as John was building to another big release. "I'm cumming!" John yelled with a shaky voice. His hips were thrusting up and into Alex as hard and fast as possible, Alex’s massive 350lbs of muscle providing the most wonderful resistance. Their twitching cocks exploded against each other. Alex reached down and wrapped his big strong hand around both cocks, gently rubbing them both. "I love your cock. I want to feel it grow in my mouth." Alex said. The mere mention of the fact that Alex loved his cock was causing John’s cock to start growing again. Alex moved down and placed John’s semi hard dick in his mouth. Alex moaned in response to his cock filling his mouth. He started licking John’s shaft like a lollipop. "You're just so amazing, I can't contain myself." John responded. He felt like a stud having just cummed twice and already fully erect again. Alex couldn't get enough of sucking his cock as he licked him all over and was moaning with pleasure. Reluctantly he finally took one last suck and started working up the length of John’s body, crawling like a cat on the prowl. His massive body loomed over John as he stared down at him with his amazing hazel eyes. Everytime he looked at John with those piercing eyes it was like time was standing still, he was temporarily paralyzed by their beauty. Alex leaned in and the two shared a passionate kiss. John started to explore Alex’s shoulders and arms as he held himself above him. Everytime he touched Alex he was in sheer awe by his size. "I want to please you my giant muscle bull. I want to make you orgasm again." He begged, realizing Alex had made him cum twice now and he wanted badly to return the favor again "I already have twice my sweet baby, but I would love more attention." he said and rolled off him to lay on his back to allow John to do whatever he wanted. John climbed on Alex and started to kiss all over his chest and fondle his hard pecs. His nipples were still hard as he licked and sucked them all over. As he was fondling his pecs he marveled at how much bigger they were than he realized. Alex loved all the attention and was moaning with pleasure. He reached down and slid his fingers round his dick and started to masturbate. Alex pulled John’s head against his chest as he started to build toward another climax. He was a sexual machine as he begged him to keep sucking his nipples. In no time he was grunting and moaning as another orgasm began to brew in his body. He was breathing heavy now causing his abs to flex and harden showing his incredible development. John ran his hands along Alex’s sides feeling the ripples of his hard obliques as he ran his tongue down the deep valley between his bulging roided abs. John was moaning with delight as he kissed all over Alex’s hard stomach. Alex loved it and was going wild with ecstasy. “John, come up here” Alex started “talk in my ear” Alex was furiously beating off, getting close to cumming again. John was happy to obey his instructions. He talked intently into Alex’s ear as he continued to feel the bodybuilder’s chest and abs. “Alex. You’re my big thick muscle bull and you turn me on so much” John said, as he grinded his dick into Alex’s body “I love feeling your huge muscles and rubbing my dick against your bull body” “Hhnnnnnggh..” Alex had never been this turned on in his life “When you put your arms around me, I know you could crush me with your immense power and strength. You’re so strong and it makes me wanna cum all over you” “Fuuuuuuck YES! Keep going” “On the plane, I was precumming at the sight of you strong hands crush those armrests like they were nothing. I loved looking down at our legs. Yours are double the size of mine. I love licking them and tasting you manly sweat. I love feeling your 350lb frame on top of me. Your lumpy muscles pressing into my weak body. You make me feel like a small boy standing next to the biggest muscle daddy. I love smelling the testosterone leak out with your sweat as you jack off. I love worshipping my big hard bodybuilder” "OH FUCK...YEES! Suck it, SUCK IT" Alex growled out as his ecstasy hit another level. John moved down and placed his mouth around Alex’s pulsating cock, feeling it pump and swell against his tongue and cheeks. Alex reached down and held his head steady as he started to buck uncontrollably into John’s mouth. He was moaning as if possessed, waves of pleasure spreading through his body. John felt his entire throat and mouth fill with shot after shot of ropey cum. Alex’s body juddered and shook as he let out an almighty roar. He had never felt a sensation like this sweet new man had provided. "Uuuuuuuh!! Come here baby." Alex beckoned for him with open arms. John crawled up and the two embraced in a passionate kiss. "You are the perfect man!" John exclaimed. "You are MY perfect man!" Alex responded. They continued kissing with renewed vigor. An unbelievable bond was forming between the couple, the closest thing to love that could be formed in less than 24 hours. Alex’s hand came to rest on John's butt as he spread his legs open to draw him in. John's fully erect and eager penis slid up against Alex’s as the two became one. John lay on Alex, completely spent, his dick throbbing into a semi again as Alex continued to hold him with his massive arms. John felt so safe and content as his full weight lay on top of Alex’s body. "That was the most incredible sex I have ever experienced." Alex admitted. "Me too, you are the most amazing man I have ever met." John replied. They laid like that for a while completely content until they finally had to get up to clean themselves off. "You know you are staying the night here right?" John said to Alex as he was washing his hands looking at his magnificent reflection in the mirror. "Yes my baby." Alex said as he wrapped his arms around John pulling him into a tight embrace. Later they were cuddled in bed, Alex was on his back with one arm around John, the other occasionally flexing or caressing his new lover’s face. John was draped over him with his head on Alex’s chest. They were content laying there enjoying each others touch. Alex broke the silence. "I am really glad you asked me to stay, I have never felt such an amazing connection with anyone like this." "I feel so lucky to have you with me. You are smart and handsome and driven" John said with admiration. Alex chuckled and squeezed him. They looked in each others eyes and shared a deep passionate kiss. "You are the man of my dreams. I have always fantasized about a man who would love my body like you do and worship my muscles. In case you hadn't noticed I get really turned on by the way you react to my body." Alex admitted. "Then we get to fulfill each other's fantasies my bull. You said you still haven't plateaued, how big do you want to get?" John asked. "As big as possible." he said, giving John another kiss.

Part One "What's the matter, lad?" "Grandfather, will I ever be as strong as you are?" "Now, now, Henry, give yourself time. You're just a lad!" As Henry Cardigan, grandson of Lord Cardigan and father of the House of Lords, sank into his grandfather's muscular chest and bawled his eyes out, Lord Cardigan knew the reason for his grandson being so upset. He was by far the smallest member of the Cardigan family, standing a mere four foot six inches tall and aged just eleven, he was always being bullied by the older children at the school he attended on the Westminster estate and this really got Lord Cardigan deep in his heart. After all he was the strongest man in the House of Lords, whenever they had a tug of war with the House of Commoners he was always at the lead. Indeed just last week he had helped the Lords to their sixteenth annual win, a feat that caused the leader of the House of Commoners, Oliver Cromwell, the member for Oxford to say, half jokingly "It's enough to make you want to ban you from attending!" but as Henry's sobs continued, Lord Cardigan decided to try and help his grandson by telling him a story about his days as a Musketeer in France during the reign of Louis XIII when, as part of a secret mission by the former First Minister George Villiers, the Duke of Buckingham, he had met a man who had made him the man he was today. "That man" he said, holding up Henry's head, "was a living Titan. Before I met him I was like you, Henry, but in the ten years I spent in France, he taught me everything he knew about being strong and powerful. If you promise to listen to my stories about him, I will ask you a question when I have finished. Do you understand my lad?" Henry nodded and with that Lord Cardigan began. "He and I got on like a house on fire, Henry" he started, "indeed when I first met him I accidentally challenge him and his friends to a duel, but we soon became best friends and for that first year he was always telling me tales about how big and strong he was. I shall now tell you the first tale he told me, about his grandfather, called Antoine and a feat of strength and power that sealed his legend in the land of his birth!" "What was this man's name?" asked Henry, rubbing his eyes "Porthos" came the reply Prompted by the recent postings about older men who are fairly muscled, I thought it might be interesting to post a story about some of the feats of strength that Porthos, his father and his grandfather got up to as mentioned in the stories by Alexandre Dumas in that context.

Danny continued to grow. His trainer Ivan had been right. Despite the fact that he hadn't lifted any weights in the two weeks that Ivan had been in Europe, Danny had beefed up to 325lbs of solid muscle. When Ivan got back from his trip to Poland and Russia, he was duly impressed by his young client's gains. "You sure you weren't working out with another trainer while I was gone," Ivan teased Danny. "Nope. Just ripped up a couple trees here and there," answered Danny. "Ha. You are funny, kid. But just wait, you are only going to get better. I brought back that new 'supplement' I told you about." Ivan held out his hand, which was holding a bunch of small black pills. "These are called Black Russians, and are the newest supp to come out of eastern Europe. The Russians are using them to develop a whole new generation of superathletes." Danny looked at the pinhead-sized pills. "They're so small," he said, picking up one pill with two of his thick fingers and examining it. "Small, yes, but powerful. And easy to get into country, attached to my jacket like beading." "I'm joining the wrestling squad when I go to college next week. What if I get tested?" "Nothing will show. These special vitamins work directly on your DNA strands, lengthening and improving your teleomeres." "So we're like a genetic experiment?" asked Danny. "Yes," said Ivan. "One that is working." "You have enough of those to share with a friend of mine?" Danny asked. Then he told Ivan about Dwayne. At first, Ivan freaked out a little, but when Danny told him about Dwayne having been an even bigger dweeb than Danny had been, and where he was now, Ivan got a kick out of it. "So now your little buddy is doing mixed martial arts?" "Yep. He says it's like his brain memorized all the moves he watched on youtube vids. He's beating all the other guys at his gym, no matter what weight class. He outmaneuvers them, outpowers them, pins them." "How much he weigh?" "He went from a dweeby 120 to a granite hard 159." "He's beating guys bigger than him then?" "He told me he pinned a 250lb guy the other night. Took him less than 15 seconds." Ivan laughed. "Just wait till your bud tries some of these." "So it's cool?" "Sure is, kid. I'm kinda liking getting you former dorks all swole and cocky. And just wait till your little bud tries this stuff out. Chances are he'll never get huge, but it will maximize other skills laying latent inside him." "What about me?" "You got such a big-boned frame, you'll be holding a solid 400 plus in no time. With strength beyond reason." "Let's get started then," said Danny, hungrily. After two weeks of three hour a day workouts, Danny met Ivan's prediction, weighing in at a solid 410. Ivan didn't train with him anymore, but simply helped add plates to Danny's stacks of weights. Danny was benching 800lbs for his warmup. And squatting 1000lbs for reps, till his quads ballooned to 40+ inches of brute muscle thickness. He had gotten hairier all over, even his back, and he liked it cause it made him feel like a massive blond gorilla. Dwayne, on the other hand, had gotten better and better at his MMA fights, so much so that the gym owner had him taking on two guys at once. Dwayne had yet to lose. He and Danny waited two weeks before seeing each other. They'd both be leaving for college in a week after that, so they wanted to check each other's progress. They met up at the city's athletic fields, where there were tennis courts, basketball courts, three softball fields and a small football stadium. When they pulled up next to each other in the parking lot, got out and looked each other over, they simultaneously said, "Fuck, dude!" "Man, you're ginormous!" said Dwayne. "What are you, 380?" "414 this morning," said Danny, puffing out his ape chest. "And look at you, man. What are you wearing?" "It's a 100lb weighted vest. I wear it for wind sprints. I'm up to a mere 180lbs, a punk next to you, but my body fat's at 1.5%. And I've been running 100-yard dashes in under 10." "Dude, that's like world class." "I know. And that's with the vest on." "How fast without??" "I don't know. Wanna race?" "Fuck yeh, ya little squirt." They went over to the football field and got on the goal line. "One, two, three go," blurted Dwayne, and he took off. Danny started after his friend. Sod flew behind their feet as Dwayne shot ahead like a bullet. But Danny, despite his size, was extraordinarily fast, and almost caught up with him, finishing a fraction of a second behind his smaller buddy. "Dude, you little cheat," said Danny. "Here's what I outta do to you..." He waddled over to the goalpost, wrapped his hands around it, and bent it until the two posts arms hit the field. Dwayne had to dodge out of the way of one of them as it came down. "Hey, I told you I learned to run fast getting away from those bullies in high school," laughed Dwayne. "I don't think you'd have any trouble doing that now. But I doubt that you'd need to run anymore." "I think you're right. I have my first sanctioned fight coming up this weekend. And if I win, I'm thinking of deferring college for a year." "No shit?" "Yeh, man, I'm loving this fighting. And my gym owner gets hard thinking of the matches I could win with him training me. Thing is, I'm already holding back so I don't hurt someone too bad. I sense it when I'm fighting someone, how much stronger I am. It's a rush." They started walking back to the parking area, crossing one of the softball fields. Dwayne found a baseball bat that someone had left by the dugout. "Think I could snap it across my knee?" he asked Danny. "Try holding it straight out, one hand on each end. Snap it that way." "OK," said Dwayne, grinning. He held the bat at arm's length and tightened his grip. His forearm muscles flexed up like ropey, sinewy iron. The velcro straps of his weighted vest tore apart at the seams as his shoulders, chest and lats spread out with effort. Then the bat snapped. Like a toothpick. Even Dwayne was surprised by how fast and easy it broke. "Fuck," he said, as he looked down at the two bat pieces, one in each hand. "Fuck is right, man. That is some sick arm strength," said Danny. "God, that felt good," said Dwayne. "Hey, isn't that Tip's car in the parking lot?" asked Danny. Dwayne looked over at the nearby lot, and saw the red Dodge Charger with the vanity license plate that said "Tipster". "It sure as hell is," he said, his face reddening. He remembered how just seeing that car used to fill him with dread. His grip on the bat pieces increased unconsciously, until the wood cracked under his fingers, splintering apart. He dropped the bat pieces to the ground, then pulled off his weighted vest. "Hold this for me," he said, handing his 100lb vest to Danny, who took it with his pinkie finger. Dwayne made his way over to the Charger. He walked around the car, looking it over, when he heard a voice from behind him say, "Don't touch the car, man." It was Tip, coming back from a jog, all blond and oozing with arrogance. Every memory of being bullied by Tip came flooding back to Dwayne's mind as he saw the cocky jock walking up to his pride and joy. "You mean like this?" said Dwayne, as he took a swipe at the car's side mirror, knocking it off so that it swung by wires against the car's door. "What the fuck????" said Tip. "You don't remember me, do you?" said Dwayne. Tip stared at him hard, but Dwayne could tell he had no idea who he was. He could hardly blame him. The last time Tip saw him, he'd weighed 120lbs of soft nerd, and he was face down in the dirt. Since then, he'd gained 70lbs of steely muscle, his jaw line had squared off, he had a jutting Adam's apple on a neck that was corded with muscle, and he had rivers of veins running up and down his arms. His eyes had improved to 20/20 vision, so he was no longer wearing his thick glasses either. "You remember a kid you used to call the Dweeb? The one you used to chase down and make him eat dirt? The one you used to slam into the lockers in front of everyone." "What the fuck...." stammered Tip, a hint of recognition hitting him. "That kid doesn't exist anymore," said Dwayne. "Now it's just this one." He grabbed the dangling mirror and ripped it free of its wires. Then he crushed the mirror in his hands, letting bits of metal, plastic, and glass fall to the ground. "What the fuck..." said Tip, slack jawed. "I always knew you had a limited vocabulary, and it seems to be getting worse. You ought to work on that," said Dwayne. "But right now, it's your turn to run." Dwayne pulled of his tee shirt, so Tip could get a good look at the insanely jacked up muscle machine he had turned into. He clenched his stomach muscles so that Tip could see the striations stand out on each of the eight blocks of ab muscles on his tight, shredded torso. He flexed his right arm, and his biceps balled up into a perfect peak. Tip had seen a lot of shirtless jocks in his time, but never anyone with Dwayne's highly developed muscularity. Dwayne smirked as he saw Tip gulp. Then he smashed his left fist into the car door, denting the metal in about 5 inches. "That's what I call a love tap," said Dwayne. Then he hit the door again, his knuckles going in 6 inches. "...the fuck..." said Tip, backing away. Then he took off running. Tip had been the fastest guy in their school. In fact, he had broken the 100-yard dash record that had been in place since the 1990's. Dwayne gave him a 5 second head start, then went after him. All Tip heard was the rush of wind from Dwayne coming up behind him so fast, tackling him on the softball field, between 1st and 2nd base. Tip's face and torso hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him. Dwayne straddled him and held him down. Tip struggled hard, but to no effect. "God damn, you are weak," said Dwayne after they both quickly realized how easily the former dweeb was able to control his former bully. Dwayne flexed his arms while holding Tip down with his powerful quads, squeezing them together just a little harder than he needed to. The muscles on his back popped out like thick leather straps, overlapping each other in perfect symmetry. "You want to see what it's like to eat dirt?" asked Dwayne. "No, man, no," said Tip. But it was too late. Dwayne scooped some dirt off the baseline and stuffed into Tip's mouth. Tip gagged and sputtered out wet muddy spittle, as Dwayne held his face to the ground. "Jesus, dude, what fucking pleasure did you ever get out of this?" said Dwayne, stopping his force feeding, but still pinning the jock down hard. Then he started sliding Tip face first along the baseline, until Tip's nose tapped into second base. "There, you're safe, asshole." Dwayne stood up over him. "I thought I would want to beat you to a pulp," he said to the cowering jock. "I still might. Here, let me help you up." Dwayne reached out his hand. Tip reluctantly took it. Dwayne yanked him to his feet like he was made of straw. As Tip started to brush himself off, Dwayne swung his foot at the jock's ankles and knocked him off his feet, onto his ass. "Ok," said Dwayne, "now that time it felt good. Here, I'll help you up. I won't do that again." He helped Tip up again, and didn't kick his feet out from under him. Instead, he punched him in his solar plexus, a quick jab, not enough to shatter his sternum, but enough to make him double over. Dwayne grabbed Tip's arms from behind and put him into a double-armed chickenwing. Then he lifted him off the ground and held him there. "I've got ten times your strength now. Maybe twenty." Dwayne tightened his hold and lifted Tip higher, just enough to prove it. Tip was just about to lose consciousness when Dwayne tossed him down. "If I ever hear about you bullying someone again, I'll come after you. And next time I won't be so friendly." Dwayne looked up and saw Danny over by Tip's car. Danny went over to the rear end of the Charger and started pushing on it until it skidded up over the curb. He pushed it harder and harder, smashing the front end into a big oak tree with such force that the car windows shattered. As Dwayne walked over to him, Danny pulled out his phone and dialed 911. "Hi," Danny said into the phone. "My friend and I just saw a blond guy in a red car crash into a tree here at the park.....By the softball field parking lot....Yeah, he got out and tried to run away, but we stopped him." Danny hung up. As Tip crawled his way back towards his demolished car, Dwayne said, "That got me so riled up." He flexed his rock muscle chest. "Yeah, got me all jacked up just watching you," said Danny, jutting out his 70+ inch chest. "Let's go back to my place and fuck each others' brains out." "Yeah? You think you can handle all this?" said Dwayne, already getting hard as he rippled every striated muscle fiber on his new body. "Let's find out."

Hey guys! I know it has been a while since I last wrote. The story is pretty much still unfinished but I realized that having all the chapters spread out wasn't helping either. My plan now is to post all the chapters here, edited of course, this being so if you reread you will get a little extra fun from it. I'll also be posting progress pics within the story of the character,Vonny, who is based off of me and has very similar muscle progress. This way you can imagine how the character is growing a little better along with reading. I will also be posting pics from the web of what other characters look like and some scenery in order for you all to fully experience everything. Thanks for being patient and I hope you all will enjoy. Leave a comment if you have and questions or ideas!

Muscle Worship Univeristy* is a place where students from around the world can further their academic goals in a setting where muscle growth and admiration are given free reign and encouraged by the faculty and programs to create the strongest, most muscular students possible. With so many hard, competitive, testosterone-fulled bodies in one place (both the professors and those they teach), there's bound to be some heated encounters. This is an idea I had the other day that I thought would be interesting to explore. Instead of a traditional written narrative or web comic, what if I made a storyline that incorporated a number of visual media to help explain the details and give this universe a sense of place? I can sort of write, sort of draw, and sort of morph, but I thought I could do a better job combining various skills into one setting to make for a more interesting reading experience. You could see internal memos sent to staff, student text messages, research reports, ads for events and gatherings, booklets outlining available courses etc. Where this project will go from here is something I'm not sure about. In a perfect world, there would be a whole wesbite dedicated to it, where you could click on different parts of the campus and see stories and videos (some indpendent from each other, others interwoven) from within those settings (dorm, classroom, locker room, football field, lab etc). However, the reality is I don't have the skills or talent to put something like that together, though I would be open to collaborating with others. Realistically, I'll just make posts in this thread for free (NOTE TO MODS: Please don't move as this is NOT an advertisement) to get feedback from all of you. If I feel there is enough interest, then MAYBE I'll start a Patreon for it, or I'll just keep posting in this thread. *I chose "worship" over "growth" because I thought it would more clearly tell others about the erotic nature of the material.

“Twist it for me,” I said, holding up the silver wrench I had gotten from the toolbox in the hall closet. “You really are a strength whore - you know that, don’t you?” he replied, taking the steel tool. “And that’s why you love me,” I answered back, scooting closer to him on the sofa. Buck was twenty-five and as big as a bull. He wasn’t a pretty-boy fitness model or anything like that. No, he was just a freaking huge guy that had thick muscles popping out all over his body. He always said his goal in life was just to be huge and powerful. When he worked out it was to get massive and to build up his strength. No bodybuilding contests for him – only contests that gave him the opportunity to show off his incredible might. And that’s what I loved more than anything in the world – him showing off. The giant bear wrapped one of his enormous paws around the handle of the wrench and the other around the end with the jaws. I purred with excitement and this made the behemoth laugh a little. I watched as his dense fingers tightened on each end. I glanced up to see Buck’s jaw clench and I knew his teeth were clamped together. At the sound of the first grunt, signifying he had begun to apply pressure, I shot my right hand up to his bulging biceps – as if I might feel some of the power that had begun to shoot through his arms. Deep indentions caved and hard as stone chunks of muscle immediately popped up all over his gigantic biceps and triceps. Pronounced blood-pumping veins suddenly appeared all over his forearms – like some kind of multiple interstate systems joining together. “Show the thing who’s boss, big man,” I said to encourage him on. Buck loved it when I egged him on in some feat of strength. Turning me on had become his most favorite thing to do, second only to lifting. He said I gave his training purpose. He claimed that he wouldn’t be as big or as strong as he was if it hadn’t been for my encouragement. Buck had stopped working a long time ago – agreeing to let me support him completely. In return, he simply had to do all the things he loved – showing off his strength, lifting on a regular basis, and allowing me to grope his massive muscles. I was shocked to find that he loved all of this even more than I did. I was certainly a muscle and strength junkie, but the big man sitting beside me actually got off on it more than I did. I was blown away by the fact that the first time we were on a date and I asked him to lift the back of my car off the ground he got a raging hard-on just from me asking. Before he even easily raised the back of my over four thousand pound Porsche Cayenne the dude was rocking such a major boner that you would have thought he had a two liter bottle in his pants. We had come out of a restaurant, where I had basically spent the entire dinner telling him how gorgeous he was and as soon as I asked him to show off he leaned close to me and said, “Demonstrating my strength is my favorite thing to do in the world.” The chapel bells for our wedding should have started ringing at that moment. His words caused my own crotch to shoot even harder than it already was from just staring at his big body during the meal. I quickly told him that I thought it would be my favorite thing in the world, too. He told me to stand close to him while he lifted the car – so I could get a good view. He said I’d especially want to watch his big arm swell even bigger in the super tight sleeve of his button down. I have since come to realize that Buck really wanted me close so he could watch my reaction to his feat. The monstrous dude just couldn’t get enough of other people freaking out at what he could do. Neither of us was prepared for the matching orgasms that rocked our bodies as soon as he grabbed the bumper of my car and straightened his legs – bring the machine to his waist level with very little effort. When he saw my face drain of color – because all of my blood rushed to my crotch – and my body started to convulse from my ejaculation, it was too much for him to handle. He had to drop the back of the car because his own tool exploded with a force that was unexpected. A few minutes later we were sitting in my car with wet sticky crotches and matching grins. It had been love at first lift. A second loud grunt made me immediately return my gaze to the wrench in Buck’s hands. I moaned noisily as I saw the middle of the handle begin to slowly rotate. The power in this man’s arms was unbelievable. Solid steel submitted to its master – unable to withstand Buck’s mighty force. For all of my life to this point I had thought a wrench was indestructible. Run over it with your car and it would still be intact. Throw it against a wall and it would still work. However, turn it over to the super brawny arms of Buck and it became as flexible as hard Playdough in a school kid’s grasp. The steel twisted more – incapable of giving any more resistance to the potent force that made up the now swollen guns of my boyfriend. After we had each dumped a super load that night in the parking lot of the restaurant, Buck had gotten in my car – without either of us saying a word – and come home with me. We drove in silence to my house. There was such an intense energy surging between us that we did not want to ruin it with words. We also did not touch each other. I did, however, steal a few glances at his enormous arms and Buck could sense I was staring at him. He’d flex his biceps as soon as he felt me looking – just to give me a thrill. I could tell the big man was impressed with my house as soon as he walked in. I lived in a comfortable three-bedroom beach house that clearly showed I was well off. I was a fit fifty-five year old early retiree who knew about life and could sense a great thing when it came my way. He took a quick tour of the house by himself as I grabbed two beers and lit the fire pit on the large back deck that stuck out over the beach. We both took a couple of swigs from our drink without saying a word as we listened to the waves crashing a short distance away. I looked across the flames at him. “What are you thinking?” I asked. “I’m thinking we could make each other very happy,” he replied – his intense honesty apparent in his gaze. “I was thinking the same thing,” I said. “You make me want to do something powerful,” he said – his bluntness not surprising me at all. “I think all I’d like to do for the rest of my life is watch you do powerful things,” I said, matching his intensity. We both took another long swig – unable to handle more conversation right at that moment. These feelings were just so foreign to both of us – and so strong that we didn’t know what to do with them. Our eyes did not leave the other. We sat there, listening to the waves and trying to figure out what to say next. His strength clearly helped him control his urges more than me and he was able to speak first. “I could put my place on the market tomorrow,” he said. “I could get a contractor to start on a state-of-the-art gym off the side of this place tomorrow, too,” I replied. That ended up being the entire flirting, dating, and engagement period - all wrapped up into one moment. We made passionate love on the floor of the deck and then both got off again in a major way when I asked him to bench my body for a bunch of repetitions. We have yet to make it to twenty reps without both of us spewing – and it’s been two years. That next day we rented a truck and we moved his stuff to my place – he actually carried most of the furniture and things and I just watched. It’s exactly how both of us wanted it. He also did most of the work without his shirt, just to give me an extra thrill. His place sold pretty quickly and I urged the contractor to finish the gym in half the time it normally would take. It’s amazing how money talks. Once he had confessed his main goals in life were to get bigger and stronger I convinced him to quit his job and focus only on those things – succeeding to make him do it mainly because I told him how happy his goals would make me, too. To this day, I am still amazed at how quickly we fell into a comfortable routine. Every morning started with a feat of strength and every evening ended with one, too. No matter what, Buck made sure I began and ended the day with a showing-off-of-strength-induced orgasm. Two years later we are still madly in love and addicted to his power as if it were the first date. Tonight, Buck had suggested something new and told me about a secret. He had been practicing alone for a few months and was now ready to let me in on a little surprise. He had encouraged me to go get a wrench from the toolbox, knowing full well I understood what was coming. I was used to big things not being any problem for my huge boyfriend. I still got off to watching him manhandle the back of my car. His increased size and strength now allowed him to pump out many reps with the vehicle and that only fueled my orgasms even more. However, to watch him twist the wrench with his mighty hands was turning me on in a much more intense manner. Steel was supposed to be powerful. It was supposed to be able to handle a ton of pressure. Unfortunately, my mammoth boyfriend was now stronger than the metal tool. Tiny beads of sweat were covering Buck’s body and every muscle seemed to be pumped to the max. The mid-section of the wrench was now twisted around tightly two times. Huge thick veins were now snaking across every possible muscle and the grunts were louder and more brutish. It was clear who was going to win this battle – the wrench didn’t stand a chance. To watch a man with power had always been something magical for me. Seeing Hulk bust through a wall, watching Hercules bend a metal torch holder, or even to see a power lifter hoist up some amazing amount of weight had made me happy for years. It was enough to watch it in films, on television, or even in bad porn on the computer. I just got off on strength. I always had and I knew I always would. In high school and college I had few flings with muscled dudes, but no one seemed interested in strength as much as me. And to be honest, all of the guys had been pretty weak compared to what I hoped for. Usually, a guy could lift me overhead for a few seconds or bench me like a barbell for one or maybe two times. It was certainly thrilling, but I yearned for more. I soon got consumed with my job and making a living and didn’t have much time for my fantasies. I’d seek out big men at my gym or at bars, but rarely did I find anyone that shared my enthusiasm for feats of strength. Buck had been a pleasant surprise and a dream come true. We had met unexpectedly. He was a landscape architect working on a project for a friend of mine. I had dropped by to pick up my friend for drinks one evening and there – in the middle of his backyard – was this behemoth carrying a pretty large uprooted tree across his shoulder. I knew the tree was heavy. Its branches had been cut away, but the trunk was still very thick and it was about as long as three cars lined up end to end. I had not been able to hide my shock and amazement when my friend called the huge architect over. Buck had merely walked over to where we stood – the tree still across his shoulder - and held out his hand for me to shake while he was turned sideways. I found it hard to speak. My friend laughed and then told Buck that I loved strong guys. There it was – out in the open. I turned beet red with embarrassment but I did not take my eyes away from the huge man carrying a mature tree. My friend then added, “Buck is really strong,” and it was the large man’s turn to get embarrassed. He, also, did not move his gaze. We locked eyes at that moment in a way that cut through all the crap we use to hide our true selves and both of us were laid bare – our fetish for strength somehow uniting us. In front of my friend, and with my face still bright red, I asked Buck if he wanted to have dinner sometime. He immediately said yes and I asked when he was free. He told me he had no plans for that night. I turned to my friend and told him we would have to do drinks another time. My friend just laughed and said he had already figured that out. To this day I swear my friend invited me over with the specific goal of me meeting Buck, but who knows. Two hours later – after the tree had been deposited in a truck and both of us had gone home to clean up – and calm down – we were sitting in a restaurant having dinner. I ended up confessing my love of feats of strength and Buck replied he loved showing off his strength. Buck’s massive arms continued to twist the wrench. It was mesmerizing – feeling the huge knotted biceps tense even more every time the metal rotated a little and then watching the middle of the tool getting thinner and thinner. I could already tell that I was going to emit a massive orgasm within a few more minutes of the huge man destroying the wrench, but I also hoped I could hold out until what I thought was finally going to happen. As Buck twisted the piece of steel in his hands he watched me closely. Seeing my reaction to what he was doing was what excited him the most. It was almost as if his strength didn’t exist unless I was there to marvel at it. He loved shocking me – surprising me – and just blowing me away with some display of raw super power. He had been secretly twisting and manhandling tools for a few months now – trying to get the strength show just perfect for me. I could not believe how huge his arms had gotten since we first met – and he was really big back then. The man ballooned with hard muscle as soon as he quit his job and turned his focus towards his deepest goals. Some days, I’d go into the gym and watch him work out. It was like porn for me. Hearing him grunt as he benched more weight than I could ever dream of lifting or curled what was essentially three of me put together – that would make me ejaculate even before he was done lifting. If I was in the room he’d stare at me the entire time he lifted. He’d pump out reps, but his eyes would never leave mine – loving how desperately turned on I would get. I could tell it was always his goal to get me off if I was watching him. He’d dramatically add more weight, grunt even louder than usual, or even talk to me as he worked through his plan for the day. He’s say something like, “Yeah, your boy is getting bigger and stronger for you,” or “I’m going to get huge for you, sir.” Buck knew exactly how to make me weak in the knees. And then, sometimes, he’d be sitting on the bench and he’d look over and summon me by just a flick of his chin upward. I knew exactly what it meant. I’d walk over, while he was moving the bar with tons of weights out of the way, and then he’d lie back down. I’d turn my back to his hands and fall into his waiting palms. He’d then push me up and down in the air for a bunch of repetitions – continuing even as both of us would spew from the thrill of me being his human barbell. Within a year he had outgrown every stitch of clothing he owned. Even his oversized sweatshirts – the ones that looked like evening gowns on me – were too small. I started having a tailor come to the house and make him clothes – always insisting that they be tight, real tight. Buck thought this was an extravagance, but was satisfied when I suggested he just do more strength feats to call us even. I was now used to randomly being picked up and one-arm pumped into the air, or pinned against the wall with one palm until he felt like setting me free, or to being used as a human towel after particular sweaty workouts. I had often considered myself the horniest man on the planet, but then I met Buck. He seemed to be perpetually hard and blamed me, saying he couldn’t be around me and not get turned on. The big dude could churn out three to four huge loads a day, so I often went to bed spent just from trying to keep up with him. The one rule I gave him – and it wasn’t really a rule since he loved it, too – was that he had to go around shirtless if we were the only ones at the house. He started toying with me by standing close and flexing while I was doing something important – like talking with someone on the phone, cooking, or trying to work on the computer. He knew I could easily get distracted – especially when he flexed one, or both, of his huge guns. Looking back on the last two years I can recall many days where I had to change my underwear three or four times because Buck had made me cum so much. The big man doubled his efforts on the wrench. Suddenly, the twisting became somewhat easier – or maybe he was just getting stronger – but before I could even say something encouraging, Buck twisted and yanked at the same time. Sinew turned harder, bulges bulged bigger, crevices deepened, and veins thickened. It was like I was sitting next to a mountain of pure muscle. The warped piece of steel snapped in two at the middle with a loud cracking sound – destroyed by Buck power. My boyfriend had just pulled a metal wrench apart with his bare hands. This was, of course, too much for both of us to handle – me, because of his tremendous strength and him, because of how I reacted. My hand tried desperately to grab onto his massive biceps as I started chugging out load after load of my milky cream – looking for a way to stable myself. A steel wrench being torn in two was just about the most incredible thing I had ever seen. I offered my sweet man-honey to the big muscled brute like a primitive village might offer a virgin to a volcano. It was the only way for me to completely honor all the power. Of course, my body bucking in adoration and my moaning out loud as my crotch was emptied was too much for Buck to handle. He joined me in my ecstatic ejaculation – unable to withstand being turned on by my reaction to his feat of strength. The pressure from his orgasm made his body tense even harder – something I thought was not possible. As I continued to pump out my love juice to Buck’s herculean display of strength, I noticed indentions at both ends of the wrench from where his fingers had gripped the tool. That caused my body to offer a few more robust spurts – just from thinking about how his fingers crushed the thing even more. It took a while for both of us to calm down from our titanic eruptions. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” I said – in only a whisper since I was still trying to recover from what his strength had done to me. “I’m not done, yet, Mr. Strength Whore,” Buck replied with a big smile. “I’m going to make you explode again – just to say thank you for all that you do for me.” I don’t think anyone had ever said something so loving to me. Here was this behemoth – this huge young muscle stud – wanting desperately to please me with his power. If I had believed in heaven I would have assumed I was already there. From that first moment we met I had known Buck was special. I knew he could grow. I knew he could get stronger. However, I had no idea how much bigger and more powerful he’d become. There was no way I could have anticipated the intensity of his desire to make me happy. He confessed one day that I was the only thing he thought about while he lifted. He said that every time he pressed some insane amount of heavy weight into the air he pictured me worshipping whatever muscle he was working – or me reacting to something that huge muscle did to show off strength. And then, as if to relieve some of the pressure that put on me, he quickly added that he, too, got off on his own size and abilities. He guaranteed that showing off for me pleased him just as much as it did me. This was music to my ears. Buck took the two pieces of the now obliterated wrench and put them on top of each other in his left hand. He then closed his fist around them – squeezing slightly, but I knew that even that minor squeeze would have crushed my hand. He then raised his arm, so that his semi-flexed biceps was right in front of my face. My lips instinctively moved to the hard skin – a love peck for the mountain. I kept my mouth against his bulging arm, but I let my gaze go up to his clenched fist. Suddenly, the arm turned to something harder than stone. I heard Buck grind his teeth and grunt-growl like some kind of giant beast. Every fiber of his body tensed to titanium-like hardness. I watched his thick fingers crush together around the wrench with what I’m sure was a force equaling a hundred men. I heard the two steel pieces being squeezed together like they were nothing more than bread dough. The man’s mega mountain biceps now towered above my head. The flexed peak felt hot against my lips. I could feel the power of Buck’s one arm radiating throughout the room as he demolished what was left of the wrench. My gaze never left his fist. Suddenly, I could see small slivers of silver oozing out between his fingers. The big man was mashing the two pieces together – merely by flexing his big gun and compressing his hand. Again, I knew the supposedly strong tool had not chance in the world against Buck’s hand. My cock had never deflated from its earlier atomic orgasm, but somehow it shot even harder as I watched Buck’s strength eradicate what was left of the wrench. I knew as soon as he opened his palm I was going to blast off another massive eruption in devotion to his strength. “Making you a hand-crushed steel paperweight, sir,” Buck said through gritted teeth. “Every time you look at it you’ll remember this moment . . . this power.” That’s when he suddenly stopped flexing and opened his palm. To know the silver blob in his hand used to be a metal wrench only doubled my awe of his power. Anyone coming upon the metallic chunk in the days ahead would assume it was a mistake made in the forging process. No one would begin to think the four indentions on the top were where fingers had flattened two parts of a wrench together. No one could comprehend that his hand could match the heat and pounding of casting steel. Buck had crumpled a heavy wrench into something unrecognizable. He had melded the two pieces – ripped apart by his hands – into one inseparable mass of steel. My body and mind were so turned on and so in shock that I merely froze and stared at the lump in the big man’s hand. I wasn’t breathing, I wasn’t ejaculating, and I wasn’t really sure my heart was beating. I was consumed with awe from the young man’s strength. Buck, however, knew how to make me skyrocket back to reality. He moved his hand down to my shorts and slid the crushed metal into my already sticky underpants. The demolished steel wrench – once looking so shiny, new, and sturdy, but now nothing more than a squished slab of metal – skidded down the side of my hard cock and then rested warmly against my balls. I’m not sure if it was being able to feel the ridges created by his fingers, knowing that a supposed tough tool had been so easily manhandled, or just finally being overwhelmed by the sheer super brawn that existed in Buck’s body that finally sent me over the edge a second time, but I came like some powerful dam had been burst by a superior force. My entire lower body arched off the sofa from the powerful thrust that was my cum-tsunami. I cried out louder than I could ever remember and wave after wave of Buck adoration filled my pants. In response to my orgasm, Buck flexed both of his big arms and began to release a torrent of his own testosterone-laden man-milk, as well. My body continued to buck hard against his mountainous body and he brought his arm around me to hold us closer together as we came – still flexing with the other arm. I simply let his hard muscled arm wrap around me and thought about the power it possessed. Ripping apart and crushing a wrench together, but then holding my body lovingly, just sent me over the edge even more. I could not fathom how this man’s love for me equaled his incredible strength. The feeling of joy he created within me only fueled me on more – desperate to show him my love, as well. I was a strength whore – it was true. And I had finally met someone that easily met all my desires, fulfilled all my fantasies, and got equally excited by feats of power. I could feel my heartbeat returning to its normal pace, I could feel my eyelids growing heavy as I was blanketed by warm, hard muscle, and I could hear the heavy breathing of my muscled Buck – a sign that he had beat me to sleep. I closed my eyes and began to dream of future feats of strength performed by my massive, loving, muscled boyfriend.

Two days had gone by since Danny had given Dwayne the supplement he got from his trainer Ivan. It was still early in the morning, and Danny was working out in the garage. He had promised Ivan he wouldn't lift weights while Ivan was visiting Poland, but he hadn't promised not to pump up everyday, so he'd been busy doing handstand pushups, bending rebar, breaking lumber and crushing brick. He'd just finished his 6th set of deadlifting the front of his dad's Range Rover, when he got a text from Dwayne. "Dude, that stuff u gave me is kickn in," he wrote. "I woke up at 6 this morn and went for a run. A run, man, and no one was chasing me. I ran all the way to the city park." "Isn't that like 5 miles from ur house," Danny answered. "Yeh and I didn't even get winded. U know that fitness trail at the park?" "The one with chinup station and monkey bars, shit like that? Yeh I know it." "I hit that thing like an American Ninja. I did 40 chinups. Remember how many I could do in PE?" "5?" "3. Sometimes only 2. And even they were bad ones kicking my legs all over. Everyone mocked me. Now I fly thru the monkey bars. I'm stoked man, that stuff is legit." "Told u" "Yeh but now I'm insane hungry. Meet for food?" "OK, how bout McDonalds there by park?" "OK, but shouldn't we be eatin lean or oatmeal or something?" "Yeh probably but it doesn't seem to matter. C u there." Danny got the keys to his dad's car and headed out. He wasn't supposed to drive the Rover, but what was the old man gonna do, spank him? Danny chuckled at the thought. He pulled into McDonald's and saw Dwayne waiting outside in a sweat-soaked running shirt and cargo shorts. "Hey, man," Danny said as he got out. "Dude," said Dwayne, "you got no neck anymore, you're just huge traps clear up to your ears." "Yeah, I was doing deads with the truck, it swells up my back and traps pretty wicked." "This truck?" "Yep." "Geezus, man," said Dwayne as they headed inside. "What's in your gym bag?" "My mass gainer shake. I'm gonna have it with about ten McMuffins." They got their food then sat down at a table. Dwayne said, "Did you see the way that cashier was checking you out?" "Nah, man, I thought she was looking at you. You're looking jacked." "I know, right? Look at my forearms." Dwayne held out his arms, his palms upward. Veins were showing all over the underside of his forearms. "Any maybe you're right, she was looking at me. I noticed it at the park, too, girls looking me over with that 'look'. Some guys too." "Get used to it, bud, I get it all the time now." "Well, yeah, you. Look at you in that stringer. I never had anyone look at me with hunger in their eyes before." Danny was already through with half his McMuffins, and was now downing his mass gainer. He saw Dwayne looking at him, and he said, "It all turns to muscle. It's crazy. I had 3 large pizzas and a gallon of this gainer shake last night around midnight." "It doesn't bloat you up?" "Yeah, fiercely for awhile. Take a look," said Danny, pulling up his tank to show his gut, bulging out like a balloon, the skin stretched tight, but with abs ridges making his stomach look like a tortoise shell. "I shaved it down this morning. Wanna touch?" "God yeah," said Dwayne, coming around the table and laying his hand on Danny's muscle gut. "Holy shit, dude, it's like a Buddha belly, except hard as marble!" Dwayne rubbed his hand on the smooth hard mound. "Yep. Except in about two hours it'll be flattening out and I'll be starving again." "My hunger's been thru the roof too, and I've never been much of an eater." "You know what else?" said Danny, "Your skin's all cleared up, too." Their faces were only a few inches apart, and Danny couldn't help but notice Dwayne's complexion, which was smooth and healthy looking. He had always had a lot of skin problems. "You're actually kind of a looker now." "Shut up," said Dwayne, going back to his seat. "You're right though, all my zits cleared up almost overnight." "Hey, I heard from Ivan last night on WhatsApp. He's taking another week over there, to go to Russia. He might be getting a supply of something new." "Stronger than the stuff we got now??" "Not sure. Guess we'll see." They finished eating, and headed out of the McDonald's. When they got outside, Dwayne said, "You want to go check out the fitness trail at the park?" "Sure." "We'll see if I can beat you on some of the stations," said Dwayne. "Yeah, ya think? Think you can beat these?" Danny flexed his arms, his biceps rising into mountainous peaks. A car that was pulling into the parking lot rear ended another car. "Dude,"said Dwayne, "your arms just caused an accident!" Danny laughed. "I think you're right. Let's go to the park. You wanna ride?" "Nah, man, let's run. It's less than a mile. I'll race ya." "You're on," said Danny, and the two friends started running up the hill that led to the park. Danny couldn't believe how fast Dwayne was. It was like he was racing the Flash. By the time Danny got to the hilltop park, his smaller friend was resting on a bench. "What took you so long?" chided Dwayne. "Very funny, pip-squeak. I'd a beat you if I didn't have 150lbs more muscle to schlep." Danny went over to the back of the bench, picked it up and tipped it up until Dwayne fell off of it. Dwayne landed on the ground in a heap, but he wasn't hurt. He looked at Danny in awe. "Man, that bench is made of cement...it must weigh 450lbs! . "Does it?" asked Danny. "Doesn't feel that heavy," and he pressed the bench up over his head and started pressing it for reps. "Fuck," said Dwayne, watching his huge friend from the ground. Then he said, "Geezus man, your legs..." Danny tossed the bench behind his head where it landed on the grass and sank in about a foot. He looked down and saw that the run up the hill had bloated his legs full, and had brought out a whole new level of vascularity. His massive quads were covered with them, snaking in and out of thick layers of muscle, and his big calves each had a garden hose sized vein running across the outside sweep. "Hoo yeah!" said Danny, bringing his right foot up and flexing his calf. The thick muscles bulged outward, shifting the vein to one side as it swelled. "Let's skip the fitness trail, and go into the woods behind the park. I'm feeling like I could uproot a tree or two," said Danny. They crossed thru the park along the jogging path. Almost every jogger they passed turned back to get a second look at the two young friends. One guy looked for so long, he ran into a tree. Dwayne went back to help him up. "My friend is so huge, it's hard not to look, isn't it?" Dwayne said to the guy as he got him back on his feet. "He is yeh, but I was looking at you. You're jacked up so lean and hard. You look real strong for your size." The guy jogged off, embarrassed but unharmed. Dwayne stood there for a second, stunned. No one had ever complimented his physique. "Dude, come on," yelled Danny. "Did you hear what that guy said?" asked Dwayne as he caught up. "Yeah, I heard. You got him all atwitter inside, stud." "I did, didn't I?" The two of them headed into the woods, with Dwayne walking with an exaggerated swagger like Vince McMahon heading to the ring. They made their way thru the trees, until they came upon a stand of birches. "Think I could rip one of these outta the ground?" asked Danny, stripping off his stringer tank and tossing it to the ground. "Just one? Why don't ya try two at once, ya cocky brute." "Yeah? You wanna see cocky?" Danny found two birches, about five feet apart, and stood in between them. He reached out his arms and grabbed their trunks, one in each hand. He tightened his grip around the trees, each trunk about 20 inches in circumference, his meaty fingers crushing into the crunchy bark and almost reaching completely around the trunks. He squeezed harder, adjusted his stance, and began to lift. Muscle all over his body tightened and clenched, and his nostrils flared, as he lifted upward with his huge arms. The leaves on the two trees started shaking, and more bark flaked off as Danny's powerful grip dug in. Dwayne heard the ground start to rip around the base of the trees. "Dude...." he said in awe, as his Herculean friend began to force the tree trunks upward, inch by inch. Danny grunted deeply with each effort to lift the trees more. Thick veins popped out on his neck and across his chest and delts, and down his big arms. He threw his head back and his neck bulged like a column of sinew. The trees lifted higher. The ground around them tore apart faster as Danny lifted them up, up, up. He shook the trees back and forth, freeing the roots from the earth. Finally, he ripped them free of the ground and held them midair like two trophies. "Dude..." said Dwayne, leaning against the trunk of a third tree."You a freak..." Danny let the tree trunks go so that they both fell behind him with a crashing thump. "Yep," he said brushing his hands together to knock off the bark flakes. Sweat rolled down his thick muscles, dripping to the ground. His huge barrel chest heaved in and out. "You got me all riled up now, man," said Dwayne. "I got to try something myself." "You gonna try to rip up a tree?" "Nah, I ain't no rhino like you. But I've been watching mma vids, and I've been aching to test out a roundhouse kick." Dwayne was already circling a birch tree. Not as big as the ones Danny had taken on, but not a sapling either. He squared himself up to it, then swung his leg into it, whacking the trunk with his shin. The tree snapped in half, the top part toppling down next to the two trees Danny had uprooted. "Aw, yeh!!" growled Dwayne. "Man, didn't that hurt your shin?" "The weird thing is, it didn't. I felt it, but it's not like real pain. I've been kicking and punching stuff at home, like walls and columns, and it doesn't hurt me." With that, Dwayne stripped off his running shirt and flexed into a most muscular pose. "Man, you are definitely jacked up! You look like Conor McGregor without the ink!" "Who's that?" said Dwayne, looking down at his newly sinewy arms. "You've been watching mma stuff and you've missed McGregor? You gotta look him up. Fuck, you could probably take him if you can snap a tree in two with one kick." "I doubt that, but I am starting fighting lessons at that UFC gym downtown tomorrow. I met the manager who thinks I have potential." "You definitely have that. Flex your arms for me." Dwayne grinned and lifted his arms into a flex. "Man, you got peaks! I bet those things are 16 inches of pure muscle." Danny reached out and put one hand on each of Dwayne's arms. He squeezed them. "Fuck, dude. They don't even dent." "Oh come on, those sausage fingers of yours can't dent my little arms? Squeeze harder." Danny crushed down on the biceps, digging his big thumb into the belly of the muscles. "They're like rock," he said. "This isn't hurting you at all is it?" "Nah, man. I feel it, but it sorta feels good. it's kinda fucking turning me on." Danny lifted Dwayne up off the ground by his two arms. Dwayne smirked. "Awww, yeh man. Harder!" Danny walked with his friend in the air, over to an oak tree, and pinned Dwayne high up against the trunk. His crotch was even with Danny's face. "You ever have a bj, Dwayne?" "Heck no man, you know I've never had sex yet. Neither have you." "Let's change that," Danny said, and he started unzipping Dwayne's cargo shorts with his teeth by biting down on the tab and sliding Dwayne higher up the tree. "Oh god yeh,"groaned Dwayne. Not only had his muscles gotten bigger and harder, so had his cock. Thicker too, and able to muscle its way out of his pants and plop onto Danny's face. Danny took it into his mouth. He'd never given a blow job, but he figured there couldn't be that much to it. He just started sucking and bobbing, while pinning Dwayne's arms against the tree. Dwayne arched into his big friend's face, as a feeling of total ecstasy flushed thru his body. Nothing had ever felt so good. "Goddammmm," he grunted over and over. "GodDAMMMM>" It didn't take him long to bust like a fountain down Danny's throat. Danny took it all like a seasoned pro. It was like being force fed a protein shake, so he continued to milk his friend until he was totally dry. Then he lowered Dwayne to the ground. Both of them were a little lightheaded. They laid down on the mossy ground, both smiling like deflowered virgins. "You want payback?" Dwayne asked Danny. "Eventually," said Danny,"but now I have to get going, I'm running late." "For what?" I have to drive out to the university. I have an appointment with the wrestling coach." "You're going to try out?" "Yep. And I'm going to make a deal with the coach. I'll be his heavyweight champ, but only if I get to use Jack as my training partner." "Dude, that's too wicked good," said Dwayne, getting to his feet and zipping himself up. "Definitely let me know how that goes."

Andre stepped back from Evan as he felt his body processing a second surge of growth. He could feel the new muscle DNA bonding with his, and it felt exhilarating. He was amazed at how deeply he could inhale, and how with each breath, he felt his core getting more solid, as if he was made of steel cables that were being wound tighter and tighter. With each breath, Andre’s DNA would remap itself so it became more compatible with Evan’s, and that only increased the density of his muscle and his strength. With each inhale getting deeper, Andre felt his abs popping, as his skin pulled tight over the deep new grooves. He felt like a wall of dense, impenetrable muscle. He stretched out his arms at a ninety-degree angle from his body, bent at the elbows, and watched his clenched forearms swell with new muscle, the veins thickening to carry the rushing blood. He felt the new weight in his chest too, and how his thick pecs heaved in his newly tightened shirt. With his thick arms now hanging by his side, he felt the growth spreading to his lats. The muscles were lengthening, getting denser, and pushing out wider, giving him a broad and imposing Y physique. All the new muscle was devouring any remaining body fat on him, and he felt his waist getting leaner. The fat on his face melted quickly as well, revealing a powerful square jaw and high cheekbones. Andre pulled up his shirt to admire his new six-pack. He inhaled deeply again, and crunched his core, forcing the abs to pop out even more prominently. Even Evan was impressed. Feeling the growth subside, Andre smiled calmly at Evan. “Time to get back to work,” he said, in a very deep voice. He saw his eyeglasses on the ground, and crushed them under his 215lbs. “Won’t be needing those anymore,” and he went back to work behind the counter, making a smoothie. He had a new sharpness and clarity on his surroundings, and acted as if his life as a chubby, defenseless nerd had never happened to him. “That was amazing Evan,” he said, and handed over the smoothie. “I was holding back a couple of ingredients earlier. Now that I see what you can do, try this one.” Evan took the cup, which felt much heavier and denser than it looked. He started to chug the drink, which had the density of wet cement. It was hard to swallow at first, but once his body realized how potent it was, his throat instinctively opened wider and he almost involuntarily inhaled it. Within a few seconds, he could feel his muscle fiber getting even denser. That should build some more muscle, thought Andre to himself. “Thanks, I needed whatever was in that Andre,” he said. He put the empty cup down and placed his hand on Andre’s shoulder, and gently squeezed. Andre did indeed feel like an impenetrable wall of muscle, and Evan could tell that his body temperature was elevated. Applying just a bit more pressure, Evan said, “Are you feeling okay Andre?” “I’ve never felt better Evan, thanks to you,” he replied with a calm smile. If Evan’s powerful grip was hurting him, he sure wasn’t showing it. His wide shoulders and broad chest looked impressive in his t-shirt, and Evan was proud of his work. “I think you are a very gifted guy Andre. Once you start a workout routine, your growth will really take off. I’m going to talk to Todd now about a program for you.” “Thanks Evan, I really appreciate it. I hope I can live up to your expectations.” Andre put his hand on top of Evan’s. “I have to get to work. I’m sure those football jocks will be back soon.” And with that, he applied some pressure and easily moved Evan’s hand from his shoulder, staring right up into the Asian god’s eyes. Evan smiled. “That’s quite a grip you have Andre. Later on, let’s go next door and let you really work out that new strength.” With that, Evan turned and walked into the stockroom to see Todd. Meanwhile, Andre’s DNA continued to slowly remap itself. Todd was doing some paperwork when Evan barged into the room. The desk was a mess and Todd seemed frazzled. Looking up at Evan, all 6’ 6” and 345lbs, Todd lost all focus. “Andre mixed up some new recipes for me Todd.” “I’m trying to get this paperwork for the gym done Evan. I know you want to open up quickly.” “I think you are going to want a taste of my output Todd.” Evan didn’t say a word, just pulled off his t-shirt, revealing his stunning 12-pack. Todd knew what he had to do. He walked over to Evan and got on his knees and started working his fat dick greedily. Evan firmly held Todd’s skull and blew load after massive load down Todd’s throat. Once Evan was finished, he reached down and easily helped the 175lb Todd up to his feet. He cradled his head gently but firmly. “I have a lot of powers Todd. Some I’m still discovering.” Evan gazed down into Todd’s eyes. “Those loads were really thick, right?” “Yes Evan – even for you.” “I just pumped two gallons of superhuman cum into you. You want to get bigger, right? You see me, my dad… and wait til you see Andre,” Evan said chuckling. The images flashed through Todd’s mind as he quietly gazed up at Evan and nodded. He could feel Evan somehow invading his brain. “From now on, you only think about me. I’m your number one focus, and you run the shop and the gym. But everything else you’ve ever known… will start to fade.” Todd just nodded. “That’s how Dad got big. He let me into his brain and let me take over. All he knows now is the business… what I instruct him to do… and me. With nothing else on his mind, he’s able to grow more easily. So are you willing to do that too Todd? Let me into your brain?” said Evan, as he tapped Todd’s temple. Todd just nodded again, silently giving assent. “I feel really warm Evan,” he said. Evan chuckled and said, “That’s my superhuman cum. That means it’s working.” Todd looked up at Evan, and everything started to get fuzzy. Years of knowledge and experience started to fall away as he yielded to an 18 year-old god. And even though those things got fuzzy, he started getting much sharper on his new reality: his universe was now Evan. He started to feel Evan’s DNA invading his bloodstream. After a few minutes, his knees buckled and he fell into a deep sleep. Evan easily hoisted him up on his shoulders and carried him home. Let that DNA do it’s job, he thought, leaving Todd in bed. Evan returned to the shop a few minutes later. Joe, the football jock, was talking to Andre, drinking a shake, and marveling at his new muscle. Andre was enjoying the worship. Whenever I saw Joe on the street, he looked right through me, thought Andre. Now, he can’t get enough of me. “Let’s go next door, the gym needs some demolition before the contractor shows up.” They walked into the abandoned bank building, and it was full of marble walls and columns. “Well that will all have to come down,” said Evan, tossing a sledgehammer to Andre as Joe watched. Andre caught the sledgehammer and got to work right away, knocking it hard into the marble walls, which started to collapse after a few blows. Joe marveled at how powerful Andre was: with each effortless blow, his body was able to absorb it all without any movement. Andre felt himself getting stronger, as the work sped up his DNA remapping, and made his muscle fiber more and more dense. He approached the central column, which was about eight feet in diameter of solid marble. He tightened his core and with one solid blow, destroyed the structure, much to Joe’s amazement. Andre was intoxicated with his own muscle and power. He stared right at Evan, holding the sledgehammer. He began to toss it up and down with total ease, as if it was a light as a tennis ball. Then he grabbed the sledgehammer just below the steel head. He extended his arm and slowly started to apply pressure, and snapped it off the wooden handle in just a few seconds. “I knew your grip strength was impressive,” said Evan, with his arms crossed. Andre smiled coolly and thought to himself, “I’m not done.” And with that, his huge hand encircled the steel head of the sledgehammer. Andre’s forearms and biceps began to swell with a remarkable amount of power, as the steel started to crumble in his grip. Tightening his core, he slowly applied more and more power until it just crumbled into pieces, falling on the floor. The surge of power just increased the speed of the DNA remapping, and that, in turn, made him even more powerful. He started to walk over to Evan slowly but deliberately. “I need more muscle,” he said. Not waiting for a response, he reached his hand up to Evan’s neck and applied some pressure. Evan felt the powerful grip and stood up straight, digging his feet into the floor. Andre just smiled and slowly forced Evan’s face down towards his. He placed his open mouth on the Asian god’s mouth, and started to inhale.

As the summer progressed, Danny continued to make rapid gains in his size and strength. His trainer Ivan had never seen anything like it. He was proud of the kid, who'd made such tremendous changes to his body, but Ivan was also somewhat envious, jealous even, of his young client's rapid improvements. Danny was now benching over 620lbs for reps, which was twice his bodyweight, and more than double what Ivan could bench. The same was true of his squat and deadlift. Despite Danny's initial reluctance to workout, he now trained like an eager puppy, looking forward to each session, and lifting with wild abandon, aching for Ivan to add more and more weight to the bar. When Ivan left for a week to fly back to Poland and look into some new "supplements", he told Danny to take the week off, too. They'd be training twice a day for almost a month now, and Ivan said Danny could use the time to let his body recuperate. Danny looked at himself in the gym mirror as Ivan was telling him this. He didn't think his body looked like it needed any rest. He was in a stringer tank, and his muscles looked full and thick and tight. His delt caps were the size and shape of soccer balls. He could make the rounded shoulder muscles roll and flex, and he loved doing it. Ivan said he had some of the best muscle control he'd ever seen. This made Danny beam with pride, and got him to practice more muscle flexing every chance he got. "But a whole week?" said Danny. "What the heck am I gonna do?" "See how much weight you can gain," said Ivan. "Sometimes the best gains are made during a rest week. You've got the mass gainer powders I gave you. How many times a day are you drinking a shake?" "Twice." "Up it to four," said Ivan. "See what happens." "I'll do five,"said Danny with a grin. Ivan left the next day, but only after making Danny promise not to go to the gym while he was gone. They both laughed at the irony of it, given that Danny didn't even know where a gym was up until two months ago. Danny still wasn't sure what he was going to do to kill time, so he started by texting his friend Dwayne. They hadn't seen each other since graduation. They'd texted back and forth a couple times, but Danny was always busy lifting or eating or flexing in his bedroom mirror to get together. So he invited Dwayne over. He said he had something to show him. When Dwayne pulled into the driveway, Danny was in the garage. He hit the garage door opener, but stayed out of sight as the door went up. He kept the lights off too. Dwayne got out of his car and came to the open door. As his eyes tried to adjust from the bright outdoor sunshine, he couldn't see much of anything in the dimly light garage. "Come on in," said Danny. Dwayne stepped into the garage, and Danny had to chuckle to himself. Dwayne was in for a shock. He hadn't change a bit since high school. "Dwayne the Dweeb" was what the jocks called him. Not much better than "Danny the Dork", but Danny had transformed into a superheavy weight musclehead. Dwayne was the epitome of the skinny white nerd, in his white short sleeve dress shirt, and heavy rimmed, heavy-lensed glasses. At 5'8", he weighed all over 130lbs. "Why's it so dark in here?" asked Dwayne. "I just didn't want to freak you out," said Danny. "Freak me out how? You get nerdier than ever?" Dwayne said, snorting. "Turn on the light switch by the wall," said Danny. Dwayne turned and flicked the switch. When he turned back, Danny was standing right under the light in an XXXXL tee shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. His chest ballooned out the shirt, and his huge thighs stretched his nylon shorts skin tight and pushed them halfway up his quads. Danny had not lifted at the gym, like he'd promised Ivan, but he had found ways to workout with stuff around the house and in the garage. From this, he'd gotten his veins to stand out on all of his thick limbs. Dwayne backed up and leaned against the wall, looking his huge friend up and down. "What the......" he stammered, as he soaked in the vision of his formerly fat friend's new physique. "Dude.....you told me you were lifting, but didn't say you morphed into a behemoth!" "Yeah," grinned Danny. "Remember how my arms used to be so chubby?" He pulled the sleeve of his right arm up to his shoulder, then flexed his arm up. "Now look." "Holy smokes, Danny. It's a mountain peak. I knew you had muscle underneath all that blubber." "Very funny," said Danny. But it was true. Dwayne had always thought that Danny was more solid than he looked. But this was insane. "Dude, I know you got all A's in AP Chemistry...did you cook up some kinda super roid or something?" "Nah, man, I'm just lifting heavy and taking some vitamins." "Sounds like Vitamin "S" to me, Danny. Where you getting them?" "From that personal trainer I told you about." "The one from eastern Europe? And you think his supplements he's giving you are from GNC?" "Nah, man, I know they're not. But feel my fuckin' arm, dude." Danny did a half flex of his left arm. Dwayne came over and put his hand on it. "Geezus, dude. Feels like marble!" Danny stretched his arm out to his side. "Try and pull my arm down." Dwayne grabbed onto Danny's thick forearm and yanked down on it. He tried again and again, but the big arm didn't budge. "Hang off it, lift your feet," said Danny. So Dwayne wrapped his arms around Danny's wrist and then lifted his feet off the ground. Dwayne clung to the forearm like a lemur clings to a tree limb. Danny held him in the air like he weighed as much as a lemur. Then he curled his arm upward, lifting his friend up and down. "Man, you got sic strength!" "I know. It's so awesome. And watch this." Danny grabbed a crowbar that was hanging off the pegboard behind his dad's workbench. He held it out in front of him, one hand on each end. "Put your hand back on my arm," he told Dwayne. Then Danny began to bend the crowbar. His arm muscles tightened and surged. Veins popped out on his neck and across his traps. The crowbar creaked as the ends started to bend downward. He bent it until the ends touched. Then he dropped it to the garage floor with a loud clang. "Oh man," said Dwayne. "I think I just came a little." "That ain't nothing," said Danny. "Watch this." He went over to his dad's Mercedes, squatted down next to the side doors, reached underneath the frame, then deadlifted the car up until both tires were off the ground. "My fuck..." stammered Dwayne. Danny did ten reps with the car, then set it down. "Ah, yehhh," said Danny. "Help me pull my shirt off, man, my arms and lats are too bloated to do it." Danny leaned over and outstretched his arms. Dwayne grabbed the bottom of the tee and started pulling it off Danny's torso. It wasn't easy, even with Danny's help, but they finally got it over his head and arms. Danny stood upright. "Damn, man, look at your six pack!" said Dwayne. "I know. They're like brick. Go ahead and hit me." "Hit you?" "Yeah, go ahead, slug my gut. You won't be able to hurt me." "Aw man," said Dwayne, but he started to punch Danny's abs. He started slow, but then hit them faster and faster, and harder each time, until his fists began to hurt. Danny's brick abs didn't even dent. Dwayne stopped as he started to get winded. "Man...that's crazy!" "I know, right? Craziest thing is, I'm wasn't even flexing them. Watch." Danny clenched down on his ab muscles, and his six pack swelled out, the muscle bulging out like rising loaves of bread...bread made out of stone. "Fuck, man. Fuck," said Dwayne as he leaned against the workbench. His whole body shook to its core. "Damn you man, I just came in my pants. Holy smokes, Danny. That is...that is wild." "Ha, you're funny, dude. I didn't even know you were into muscle." "Neither did I, till now. Who wouldn't nut to what you got going on? You're a ubermasculine superhuman!" Then a thought occurred to Dwayne. "Hey, you got any extra of those "vitamins"? "I have enough until Ivan gets back. Why?" "Let me have some." "Why? You don't even lift." "You didn't either til a couple months ago. Let me try one a day for a week or two, see what happens." "Yeah? Ok, man, that might be interesting. Don't do any lifting though, we'll see if it does anything at all." "Dude, the only thing I know how to lift is my dick. Look at me. Even if it jacks me up a little, I'd be happy." "Ok, then, come on." They went up to Danny's room, and he doled out two weeks worth of his supplement. Dwayne noticed the sweat rolling down Danny's huge torso. "Geezus, man, even your sweat smells good. It smells like leather and cotton candy in here." Danny laughed, then put his mitt-sized hand behind his friend's head and pressed his face into his deep pit. "Breathe it in, little dude," Danny said, and Dwayne sucked in the aroma like he was using his inhaler. He had to push away when he thought he was going to pass out from pleasure. "Cut it out, man, that's not cool..." but he could have spent all day in that muscle cavern. "Get me some water, I wanna take one of these now." As Danny grabbed a bottle of water off his bedside table, Dwayne noticed the reflection of the two of them in the bedroom wall mirror. The size difference was so astonishing that he had to sit down on Danny's bed. "Just how big are you?" he said. "Almost 300lbs now, but I haven't weighed myself today." Danny handed Dwayne the water. "Imagine if you met up with Jack the Jerk now," said Dwayne, referring to the jock in high school who used to torment Danny the most. Danny and his friends called him the Jerk, but certainly not to his face. The guy was a state wrestling champ, and an arrogant tool. During Danny's short stint with the wrestling team, Jack had secretly peed in Danny's shampoo. When word gets out in high school about something like that, it's hard to live down. Danny's face reddened from the memory. "That," said Danny, clenching his fists as he checked himself out in the mirror, "would be an interesting encounter." "Hey, didn't you get a full ride to RU?" Dwayne asked, as he watched Danny's thickly muscled back muscles tighten. RU was the university near where they lived. "I did," said Danny. "I heard that Jack's going there too, on a wrestling scholarship." Dwayne swallowed down the pill, then said. "You know my sister Heather works there, in the housing department. She said that Jack and his evil cohort Tip were going to room together. You remember Tip?" "'Course I do. He used to chase you down and shove you into lockers." "Yeah, that's the one. At least I learned to run fast from him hunting me down. Anyway, I was thinking that my sister could 'accidently' mess up their dorm assignment, and slip you in with Jack on the down low." "With neither one of them realizing?" "Yeah. Imagine Jack's face, moving into his room and finding you there, like you are now." Danny picked up a tank top from his bed, and put it on. "Didn't he wrestle as like 175lbs?" "Yeah, that has to be about right. He might be bigger than that now, but you could mess with his head pretty good. Bet you have 100lbs on him." "Yep. And a bigger dick too." Dwayne laughed. "How do you know that?" "I remember seeing him in the showers, and thinking, for such a big dickhead, he had just an average cock. Mine was bigger even then. And now, it's gotten bigger." "Yeh? From the pills and lifting, I bet. Lemme see, man." Danny reached into his shorts and flopped out his cock and let it hang, thick and weighty, halfway to his knees. "Geezus, dude. That things an anaconda!" "I know," said Danny, packing his meat back into his shorts. "Do me a favor. Text your sister, let's make this thing happen."

All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1zNSigi8v1eclG3AQv803GITT-d8kviEnOkwfLV47aXQ) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1O52F8UJS70fDmrK2gYawUXBtklu8IEUwpOdaOZrPuoM) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN Chapter 15: Spells and Muscles Days past since the date, and Marvelous Man was feeling optimistic about his relationship with Gene. Whenever there was free time after investigating supernatural occurrences or daily patrol, the two would hang out. The choice of activities were aggressively engaging with little time to talk: usually dancing at clubs or sparring in the D.A.B. basement floor’s training room. It was patrol time during the afternoon hour, and the musclebound superhero was chatting away at his cell phone. His bunny partner, Gene, walked next to him during the conversation. Although the Totochtin prince was looking away, there was a good chance Gene could hear the entire conversation with his white-furred rabbit ears. Marvelous Man grinned, “Yeah, we gotta watch the season finale together! I can’t wait for you to get back. When is that, by the way?” A familiar electronic voice echoed from the superhero’s phone. “Some time today. They’re doing last minute checkups to make sure my tuneup is alright. But I really don’t think they need to record it all. Buncha perverts,” answered Gemini. The Soulem paused for a moment. Gemini spoke up, “So whatcha doin?” “Just...walking around,” hesitated Marvelous Man. While it was not a lie, the answer left a bitter taste in Marvelous Man’s mouth. He never explained to Gemini that Justice Starr lived a double life as Marvelous Man. Every opportunity that seemed like the right time to admit such an important detail, he would reason himself as to why he should not. After all, he signed that agreement with the Department of Metahuman Registration that they did not have permission to publicly disclose his real identity. He signed it to protect his loved ones...who are gods… Gemini replied, “Cool. Maybe you could pick me up some ice cream for when we meet up again. Dunno what flavor, I’m not really picky at the moment.” Marvelous Man flexed his eyebrow in confusion. “Can you even eat ice cream? I don’t remember you having a mouth,” he questioned. Gemini hesitated, “Uhh...I’m just feeling a craving. You know how I’ve got my dad’s personality and subconscious crammed into me. It’ll be fine...I’ll just watch you eat it, and, wow, that sounded so creepy when I said that out loud…” “It’s okay. Lots of people have that voyeur fetish, but it’s usually with watching a cute Asian girl eating stuff,” smiled Marvelous Man. Gemini exclaimed, “HEY! I’m the one that’s supposed to be witty, not you!” “I guess you’re rubbing off on me then,” shrugged Marvelous Man. Gemini huffed, “Yeah, whatever. I’ll text you later when I’m out. See ya later, dude.” “Okay. Bye,” nodded Marvelous Man. Ending the call, the muscle demigod placed his smartphone back into his pocket. Marvelous Man continued to smile and sighed with content, while his partner looked up to him. Gene spoke up, “A close friend of yours?” “Yeah. He was one of the first friends I made when I moved here. Uh, right after I met you, I mean,” nodded Marvelous Man. Gene smiled, “There is no need to be the nervous, Marvelous Man. I am not one to easily incite jealousy. It is good to have the other friends. Especially the ones that can put the gleam in your eye.” Marvelous Man looked down at his work partner and opened his mouth with intention to complement. The ground rumbled with low vibrations, while the sound of explosions can screaming can be heard in the distance. A recognizable tingle at the back of his mind could be felt; the blue D.A.B. patch on his black jacket’s shoulder had been activated. With the patch now acting as a magical psychic communicator, he could hear his field operator, Fairuza, speak directly into his head. “Lightfoot, Marvelous Man, please respond! This is a high alert command from the D.A.B. Headquarters!” called Fairuza. Gene crossed his arms and projected his thoughts. The rabbit superhero responded, “I can hear you, Fairuza. What is the situation?” “An unknown supervillain has appeared in Trevorstone Park a few blocks away from your position. He appears to be armed with a shield and an oddly-shaped sword. Subject seems to be at least a C-Rank due to signs of super strength. He’s been seen attacking and wounding civilians, but no confirmed casualties,” reported Fairuza. Gene nodded, “Understood. Does your magic book know the name of the supervillain?” The bunny demigod immediately looked up at Marvelous Man. “Let us make haste, Marvelous Man,” he said. Without saying a word, Marvelous Man nodded and took off running with his partner. The Totochtin prince led the charge, as they dashed towards the source of the panic and destruction. With the commotion in earshot, it would take the team minutes to arrive. Fairuza spoke up, “I've just about finished analyzing them, and...wha-that just doesn’t make sense! I’m checking a few more times to make sure, but...the identity and story of our supervillain is the ancient Sumerian royal hero, Gilgamesh. He’s a demigod king from thousands of years ago...” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Arriving at the Trevorstone Park entrance, Gene continued his sprint. The rabbit superhero zigzagged through the trees; leading to what Marvelous Man guessed was the causation of emotional distress. The running came to its final end when Gene led his partner towards a clearing. Marvelous Man gasped at his surroundings. The grassy plains with concrete sidewalk was littered with civilians and law enforcers lying on the ground. They were splayed about; bleeding, broken, and some barely conscious. In the center of the disaster stood a man almost as big and muscular as Marvelous Man himself. His long, black hair was kept braided; as well as the beard that surrounded his square face. The man known as Gilgamesh had dark bronze skin with a carpet of black hair matting all over his muscular body. His muscles had an impressiveness much different from Marvelous Man. They were lean and hard that exuded a lifetime of hard labor and purpose. Whereas Marvelous Man’s appeared inflated from a lifetime of dedication to exercise as a means of showing off power and sex appeal. Gilgamesh’s stomach was the only part of him that appeared inflated; stuffed with so much muscle that he had a permanent bloated appearance. Adorned on his hard body was golden jewelry, and on his head was a golden circlet. Every part of him sparkled with golden light that commanded one to awe at his muscles and nobility. The golden jewelry never covered but curved around his angular muscles, and his large golden necklace strewn over his wide shoulders lightly bounced from his flexing pectorals. The Sumerian king appeared to be nearly naked if one were to not notice the jewelry serving as his only means of clothing. As for the covering of his manhood, he wore a lewdly-designed codpiece shaped like a bull’s head and forged with gold plating. It was only big enough to hold what appeared to be his immense package, and barely covered his trimmed pubic bush. And the only thing tying the codpiece to his body was a golden chain; bedecked with glittering gems. It seemed as if he used a glamorous necklace to serve as the codpiece’s chain and thong. Gilgamesh appeared to have done everything he possibly could to show off his regality, godhood, and sexual allure. Gilgamesh turned to the superheroes and smiled. “Ah, the Totochtin and the star child. It has been a while, since we last fought,” he greeted. Gene and Marvelous Man glanced at each other for a second before looking back at Gilgamesh. The only person to ever call them that was the Skeleton Lord. Marvelous Man did not dare move to assist the injured; not unless he wanted the dangerous foe to attack with his back turned. Gene spoke, “My apologies, but I do not believe we have met.” “Uh, yeah...And are you Gilgamesh, the royal hero?” inquired Marvelous Man. Gilgamesh frowned, as he became silent. In that moment, his eyes flooded with pride, sadness, and then regret. The light in his eyes died immediately after flashing through his emotions. He replied, “...I have not been called either in a long time. Neither a king, nor a hero anymore...Aye, I am Gilgamesh. And I fight for the Skeleton Lord.” Marvelous Man’s stomach felt it had been stabbed after hearing those words. The Skeleton Lord has resurfaced but has sent a powerful demigod lackey in his stead. Thankfully, he had Gene to outnumber their foe. “Now come, heroes. Allow me to instill fear into you, so the Skeleton Lord may feast on it,” bellowed Gilgamesh. Brandishing his weapons for the superheroes to see, Marvelous Man recognized the familiar armaments. The Sumerian held a circular war shield welded with bumps and intricate designs, and a scythe sword now glittering with blood on it. It was the weapons the Skeleton Lord used when the villain called... Gilgamesh was not just any lackey. He was one of the Skeleton Lord’s guardians. Gene ordered, “Marvelous Man, you must heal the injured. I will fight the guardian.” It seemed that Gene had also understood how dangerous their enemy truly was upon seeing Gilgamesh’s weapons. “R-roger!” nodded Marvelous Man. As Gene charged towards the opponent at full speed, Marvelous Man evaluated the wounded lot. There were too many to heal one at a time before any of them became deceased, and they were scattered all over the place. The most obvious choice would have to be supercharging his light and channeling it through the ground in order to do one massive heal. The musclebound superhero reached into his pocket and pulled out his golden harmonica, Duskbringer. Applying it to his lips, he began to play an energetic song filled with many bouncy notes. Marvelous Man could feel his light feeding on the music; slowly growing to the point of supercharge. Squatting down like a sumo wrestler, Gilgamesh placed the knuckles of his sword-wielding hand on top of the grass. He immediately raised his tight, muscular buttocks high into the air; the jeweled chain thong pressing into his skin even deeper. His leg muscles tightened for a moment before launching Gilgamesh’s fuzzy body forward. The ground beneath him crumbled upon his liftoff; leaving behind a small crater with dirt and grass being flung into the air. He flew at a speed that was beyond faster than Gene's. Gilgamesh then stretched out the arm that held his scythe sword. Gene’s eyes widened at Gilgamesh’s explosive agility, and the acknowledgement of what he is incapable of reacting in time for. Gilgamesh’s outstretched arm slammed into Gene’s chest; knocking the air out of Gene’s lungs. Upon being hit by Gilgamesh’s clothesline attack, Gene’s legs lost their footing to stabilize against the charge. The Totochtin prince spun into the air, while Gilgamesh continued his uninterrupted velocity towards Marvelous Man. As Gene landed back first onto the ground, the Skeleton Lord guardian slammed his arm into Marvelous Man for another clothesline attack. As a result of the bodybuilder superhero’s tall stature, the flying attack impacted against Marvelous Man’s abdomen. Gilgamesh’s arm had Marvelous Man hooked onto him; carrying the muscle demigod until the golden guardian crashed into a tree. The tree cracked from the massive muscle collision. Splintering into two, the broken top half landed in between the fallen enemies. Gilgamesh lost grip over his weapons, causing them to clatter onto Marvelous Man’s side during the fall. Activating his flight power, Marvelous Man immediately lifted himself off the ground to face his enemy. The golden guardian slowly stood up as he laughed. It greatly annoyed the muscle demigod that his foe would be laughing from causing great harm and destruction. Gilgamesh grinned, “I learned that trick from you, star child. I had never considered the strength in my legs to push myself at speeds my foes cannot even predict. But I suppose I need to practice my landing first before I challenge beings greater than you.” Marvelous Man flew forward, as he thrusted an overhead punch with all his might. Still smiling, Gilgamesh caught the fist with quick ease. The air shook with immense vibration as the impact of a sonic boom burst between the clashing hands. Marvelous Man watched the vibrating air tussle Gilgamesh’s hairs. Even with all his strength, it was not enough to cause this Sumerian demigod of strength to flinch. He was fighting a force that was leagues beyond his own strength. Momentarily lifting up Marvelous Man into the air, Gilgamesh turned away and slammed the bodybuilder superhero into the ground in front of him. Marvelous Man’s breath choked out of him, from the front of his body smashed against the dirt. The Sumerian demigod still had Marvelous Man’s fist in his grasp. “I was ordered to do no harm to the Totochtin. Well, nothing too damaging that wouldn’t allow him to perform,” spoke Gilgamesh, “But you? I can crush.” Immense pain exploded in Marvelous Man’s hand, as he could hear the crushing of bones vibrate into his eardrums. He screamed in high-pitched anguish and nearly blacked out from the ghastly pain. Gilgamesh released his broken hand; mangled into disfiguration. Turning away from the broken hero, Gilgamesh walked towards his fallen weapons. The golden guardian bragged, “You might be wondering why the Totochtin is so special. Why he gets the special treatment from the Skeleton Lord and not you. It’s cause he can produce countless amounts of lust energy. Something the Skeleton Lord overlooked until now. And being a man of sexual prowess, it will be up to me to milk it, so the Skeleton Lord can focus on other things. Now while I usually prefer the company of women, a hole is still a hole.” Marvelous Man could hear every word Gilgamesh said; despite being in blinding pain. He needed to stop this monster before he harmed more people. Before he hurted Gene… He had no choice. Marvelous Man needed to use the poison. It did not matter if using that dark power would hurt himself. He was already in enough pain, and the bigger regret would be not using it to save someone he loves. Marvelous Man commanded the blackness within him to rise and feed on his agony and the pain of being useless to help others. He wanted to inflict this misery onto his foe. Marvelous Man’s other unbroken hand began to glow with a whisping, dark aura. All he had to do now was touch Gilgamesh, and reactivate every damage the Sumerian ever took in his life all at once. “Stand down, Marvelous Man. Bossman and I have this,” a familiar voice whispered. There was only one person who addressed the Director with such vocabulary and spoke in a deep, Russian accent. The musclebound superhero truly wished he was not hallucinating from the extreme pain. Marvelous Man wheezed, “Puzzles?” A furry imp in a cobalt business suit walked past the fallen hero. He turned to look down at Marvelous Man with his crystal blue eyes and gave a gleaming smile. Marvelous Man shivered at the sight; to see something so unusual as seeing Puzzles smile and one that looked like a cheshire cat grin. “Da,” said Puzzles. As Gilgamesh finished retrieving his close-combat arms, Puzzles began to disintegrate into smoke. Puzzles’ smoke form floated away right, as the golden guardian turned to face Marvelous Man. Gilgamesh’s face gave no evidence of ever spotting Puzzles, while walking back to the beaten hero. Putting his trust into the smoke imp, Marvelous Man commanded his whisping poison to deactivate. Gilgamesh smirked, “I will say that I respect you. You are so much weaker than the Totochtin, but you’re very resourceful. You’ve managed to find ways to compensate for what you lack. And that light you cast when you play your metal ocarina really irks the Skeleton Lord. It really forces him to use his more powerful attacks, since your light is bright enough to destroy his dark spells. So I commend you for being able to corner the Skeleton Lord so much.” A southern, gentlemanly-like voice called out to the Sumerian demigod. “Pardon me, evildoer. But you wouldn’t happen to be Gilgamesh, would ya?” he drawled. Gilgamesh looked towards his left. Standing next to the broken tree stump was Director Skye and Puzzles. The golden guardian replied, “Aye. That is me. And who are you?" “He is Director Douglas Skye. Head of the North American Demon Authority Bureau. Master Witch of the Defense Arts," spoke up Puzzles, "And I am his familiar, Puzzles. But I will not be attacking you today.” Director Skye looked down at the smoke imp. “Why’s that?” he asked. Puzzles stared back up at his master. The smoke imp shrugged, “Fighting an ancient hero is part of your imposs-I mean, improbable bucket list, Boss. I’m sure you’d want to try to fight him with your own strength to see who’s stronger. But I’ll still help support you, boss. Just no sneaky attacks from me. Besides, you’ve been cooped up in your office for so long. You need to blow off some steam.” “I really do...Are you sure you want me to take him on my own?” said the Director. Puzzles scoffed, “Unless you want me to join in, Boss. But all that hairy musclehead can do is hit really hard, so there’s nothing to worry about. And if I had to fight him as well, then it would be overkill.” Gilgamesh bursted out laughing upon hearing Puzzles’ boasts. “You make such amusing insults, creature. But your master is no match for me. What good is his magic if his spells focus only on defense?” he said. The Director smirked, “Would you like for me to educate you?” The golden guardian switched into his battle stance. He held his sword out; pointed at Director Skye. “By all means, witch. Enlighten me,” laughed Gilgamesh. The Director slowly pulled off his cobalt business suit’s jacket. Grabbing it by the collar, Director Skye tossed his jacket into the air with a light amount of effort. The jacket climbed in the air for a second before reaching its peak altitude. As the cobalt suit jacket hit its point of incline, the Director raised his hands into the air and began to gesture in a circular motion. His hands glowed with the movements, while a magical circle filled with sigils and runic symbols appeared below the jacket. Upon the jacket’s descent and passing through Director Skye’s magical seal, its motion came nearly to a halt. It was still falling, but it looked like someone played its action on slow motion. The Director stopped his gesturing and hand glowing once he saw his completed spell. Looking back at his opponent, he pointed up at the jacket falling in slow motion. He declared, “Before my jacket hits the ground, I shall defeat you. I will be very embarrassed if I don’t, because I just had that dry cleaned.” Director Doug then held out his hand; as if he were grabbing something. A runic symbol, glowing with a bluish florescence, appeared on his palm. Immediately after it emerged, the rune stretched itself. It reformed itself into a long, tube shape that continued to glow blue. Upon reaching a certain length, Director Skye grabbed the tube. The magical light instantaneously shattered like glass and left behind a silver baton in the master witch's grasp. “I think you’ll need something sharper than that thin club to beat me, witch” laughed Gilgamesh. The Director smirked, “Oh, this isn’t a club. It’s my broom.” “I see,” smiled Gilgamesh, “And do you plan to defeat me by dusting the dirt off my codpiece? Director Skye fired back, “Actually, I was planning to stick it up your ass and sweep the floor with it.” “Decapitating you will be most gayful,” said the golden guardian. Leaping forward, Gilgamesh raised his scythe sword for downward slash attack. The Director calmly stood still; smiling without a care. The Director exclaimed, “Bring it, fatherfucker. HECATE!!!” Gilgamesh brought down his sword at the master witch, as he landed. At the moment where Gilgamesh’s blade cleaved through the Director, it instead split in half. The blade looked as if it were caught in a illusionary prism that caused one side of the blade to stick out to the left and the other blade pointing right. It continued its downward swing without even grazing the Director’s fabric. Flabbergasted, the golden guardian held his weapon up to his face and stared at his weapon. The blades were no longer two and had returned to its original form of being a single, straightforward blade. “What madness?!” said the Sumerian demigod. Director Doug explained, “That’s a space fracture spell. Causes a small rift for objects to be split in two. Great for dodging vertical attacks and projectiles. But I suggest you never do it with horizontal or diagonal attacks. Oh, and try not to use it on people. Big objects tend to get permanently cleaved in half. And it's as messy as it sounds.” >>>>>>>>> As Marvelous Man watched Director Skye in amazement at the master witch’s magical performance, he could feel Fairuza communicating to his mind. “Marvelous Man, are you there? Do you read me, Marvelous Man?” called Fairuza. Marvelous Man thought back, “I’m here, Fairuza.” “What happened? You were screaming before the Director showed up,” questioned Fairuza. Marvelous Man answered, “...Gilgamesh broke my hand. I can’t move it at all, and I’m in a lot of pain.” “We’ll have it looked at when the Director finishes up. In the meantime, you need to get up. The paramedics can’t get close until the supervillain is subdued. And those innocent people are dying, Marvelous Man, and you’re the only one that can save them,” Fairuza reminded. Marvelous Man acknowledged, “...okay. I’ll try to...supercharge the area to heal them all at once.” Using his other unbroken hand to steady himself, Marvelous Man attempted to push himself up. The ache in his body from being smashed into ground was slowly dissipating, but it still felt unbearable to the musclebound superhero. He groaned from the pain, but he needed to get up. Lives were depending on him, and superheroes must answer the call of duty above their own needs. Marvelous Man continued to remind himself about his sense of duty as a superhero as motivation. Slowly lurching up, the muscle demigod managed to upright himself and sit on top of his legs in a seiza position. Marvelous Man quickly scanned the area around himself before spotting his harmonica. Duskbringer laid next to the broken top-half of the tree, but was out of the muscle demigod's reach. “Can you still play your harmonica with just one working hand?” asked Fairuza. Marvelous Man sighed, “I can, but I don’t have to play it to supercharge my healing. I just need to make art. Will Director Skye be alright?” “He’ll be fine. He’s a Rank-A superhero, so don’t worry about him. Just focus on helping the injured,” replied Fairuza. Marvelous Man nodded, “Right. Sorry.” Taking a breath, Marvelous Man cleared his throat. He began to softly hum before vocalizing into a gregorian-like chant. The light within him began to feed on his music. >>>>>>>> Gilgamesh swung his scythe sword in a horizontal strike in an attempt to hit the Director. The Director made no attempt to cast a spell, while Gilgamesh’s blade sliced through the air. Upon contact with Director Skye’s body, the scythe sword cleaved through. The Director’s body severed in half from the slash, but not a drop of blood escaped from the master witch’s bisected anatomy. The Director continued to smile even after experiencing such devastating damage. Director Douglas’ detached top half floated for a second before his whole body exploded into smoke. The smokescreen dispersed into a wide spread in an effort to stunt Gilgamesh’s perception. Unbeknownst to the golden guardian, the smoke had masked his eyes from seeing a magical seal glowing beneath himself. Sliding across the ground as if it were an ice rink, the Director silently glided from behind Gilgamesh. He then tossed his baton-like broom into the air, causing it to twirl. Director Skye caught the other end of his silver broom and held it like a baseball bat. The Director leaned forward and swung at the back of Gilgamesh’s right knee. When the precisioned blow connected to the joint, it made a pinging noise one would hear when struck with a metal baseball bat. The Sumerian demigod’s powerful stature immediately crumbled, as he fell onto his left knee. Upon this happening, his right leg bent but kept anchored in place to keep Gilgamesh’s back straight. Like a figure skater continuing their flow of motion, Director Skye used the momentum of his strike to twirl. He spun in a counterclockwise motion to a complete revolution and struck with his broom again. The blunt weapon reverberated with another ping, as it battered the left side of Gilgamesh’s jaw. With the gold guardian’s balance upset once again, his right foot lost its grip on the ground as if it were standing on ice. As Gilgamesh slipped and landed with his back onto the dirt, the Director disappeared into the smokescreen upon finishing his blitzkrieg. “Kinetic friction nullifier spell. Makes any surface slippery. Although now that I am saying it all out loud, magic sure has gotten more sciency,” lectured the Director. Puzzles called out, “And what you just hit was my Shado-I mean, Smoke Clones. I can conjure semi-solid illusions with my smoke.” The Sumerian demigod attempted to stand back up; gritting his teeth in the process. As the magical circle beneath Gilgamesh’s feet and the smokescreen disappeared, he spotted something else. The ground was being enchanted with light, and it was spreading. Looking for the source, Gilgamesh pinpointed it to Marvelous Man; sitting in seiza position with eyes closed and singing in a gregorian-like chant. Copying Marvelous Man’s signature move, Gilgamesh squatted down in a sumo stance with his glutes hefted in the air. He flexed his leg muscles to quickly charge power for another launch. “POSEI MAGUM!” shouted the Director. Gilgamesh looked to his left and saw a shimmering spectacle shooting straight at him. With the shiny object in such close distance, the golden guardian had no time to react. The casted spell instantly enveloped him upon contact; forming a giant bubble around the crouching Sumerian demigod. Running toward the bubble-encased Gilgamesh, Director Skye held his broom up to his face. He then placed an open palm next to his other hand gripping the silver broom. As his hands glowed with magical energy, he glided his open palm across the baton-like broom’s length. He then slid his palm beyond the broom’s shaft; resulting in another enchanted display. The short-lengthed broom briefly flared with magical light, as it immediately extended itself. The broom’s glowing ended abruptly upon reaching a vast pole length that is suitable for one to use as a bo staff or a supposed broom. The Director jumped; quickly maneuvering his newly-formed broom beneath his groin at an upward angle. The back end of his broom bursted with a pinkish fire; accelerating Director Doug beyond his running speed and gaining a small amount of altitude. Twisting his body into a counterclockwise spin, the Director changed his grip and pulled the broom from under himself. As the boosting flame on his broom extinguished, Director Skye came to a full rotation. The Director gripped his broom like it was a baseball bat, while descending back towards the ground. Upon landing steps away from Gilgamesh, Director Doug skidded towards the crouched man. Dirt flew into the air, as the crouching man was now within the master witch’s swinging distance. The Director then swung with an underhanded strike; hitting the bubble Gilgamesh was trapped in. The bubble instantly bounced high into the air from the blunt attack; regardless of Gilgamesh’s weight in muscle mass and golden jewelry. As the bubble-encased Gilgamesh flew into the sky, the Director placed his broom underneath himself. A mass of smoke followed behind Director Doug’s back; reforming into Puzzles upon landing on top of the broom. The silver broom blasted off with its pink fire blazing at full power. Jetting off into the upper atmosphere, Director Skye directed his magical broom to follow the bubbled Gilgamesh flinging through the air. The Director and his familiar caught up to the bubble within seconds. Raising his hand up, it began to glow while gesturing a spell. A translucent veil with a purple hue appeared in front of the broom. It umbrellaed outward; shielding the Director from incoming winds. And although the barrier was made of magic, its entirety was structured with a blockade of hexagons that interlocked together like a honeycomb. Charging into the enchanted bubble, the flimsy structure popped rather than bouncing again. Director Doug continued his flight; ramming into Gilgamesh’s abdomen. The silver broom did not expectedly penetrate the golden guardian's skin, as the honeycomb-shaped magic positioned itself in front of the pole. With the broom pushing speeds in the hundreds and the enchanted veil too wide to grip or reach around to grab the master witch, Gilgamesh remained pinned onto the magical barrier in a spread eagle position. The Sumerian demigod’s weapons were nowhere to be seen on the pinned man; knocked out of his hold by the sudden blow. The Director continued to calmly smile, as he changed his broom’s direction to accelerate upwards. The master witch flew higher into the troposphere; breaking through the clouds and entering the stratosphere. All the while, Gilgamesh could only scowl at Director Skye with his eyes. His face unable to express as it remained smooshed against the veil. While ice crystals began forming onto the beehive-like barrier, Gilgamesh’s body smoked from the evaporating crystals melting from his body heat. The broom’s pink flame extinguished itself; preventing the three from climbing any higher heights. Loosening his grip, Director Doug slid down his silver broom just as Puzzles dissipated into his smoke form. The Director then reestablished his hold once again before completely falling off his enchanted flying device; clasping onto the broom’s end. Director Skye held out his left hand and gestured a spell. He soon ended his motioning incantation by waving upwards in a clockwise motion. A small hexagonal barrier appeared on the Director’s right side. Unlike the one he used to pin Gilgamesh beneath with, it was an individual hexagon rather than a combination. More magical hexagons emerged into existence on Director Doug’s left side. They materialized above each other; creating a pathway in a clockwise motion until reaching high above Gilgamesh. The Director planted his feet against the vertically-angled hexagon on his right side. Briefly squatting against the magical shape, he pushed off. The broom swung with his motion, as Director Skye landed his foot against the floating pathway he conjured. Continuing his movement without hesitation, he began to run upwards against the panes of hexagonal pieces. The end of the Director’s broom pinning Gilgamesh with the magical shield rotated until he was positioned underneath the silver broomstick. Reaching the end of his improvised path, Director Skye had situated himself into a handstand position while pushed himself on top of his own broom. The small cloud of smoke, surrounding the middle of the staff during the Director’s acrobat, shot up towards the master witch. As the smoke being darted upwards, it reformed back into Puzzles. Both the smoke imp and Director Doug held out their hands to each other in one synchronized action; grasping each other upon contact. With the help of his own projected velocity, Puzzles pulled his master up with little effort. The Director bent his legs down, as his upper body was lifted by his familiar. No longer upside down in that moment, Director Skye released his grip from Puzzles' tiny hand. The Director landed feet first on the top of his broom with cat-like grace. As he peered out to the sky in front of him, Puzzles gently landed on his shoulder. With nothing to keep them afloat, the three began to descend back down towards the clouds. Puzzles spoke, “And what floor would you like to get off on, Boss?” “Ground floor,” replied Director Skye. As Puzzles pretended to push an imaginary elevator button, Director Doug gestured another spell. His hands glowed, while smashing his fist against his open palm. An explosion of ice erupted from all over the Director’s body. Large obelisks made of ice extended outwards, with Director Skye, Puzzles, and the broom encased in the freeze flash. Gilgamesh’s eyes bulged. The golden guardian raised his fists and slammed it back down onto the honeycomb-patterned barrier in an attempt to shatter it. The veil glowed from the hits, but it did not break. He continued the vain attempt, as their descending speed rapidly accelerated with each passing second. Upon reaching terminal velocity within seconds, the glowing ground drew close at speeds too fast to see any details. The three crashed into the light-enchanted earth; resulting in an explosion akin to a bomb and vibrating the entire park that even shook Marvelous Man’s posture. Smoke from the impact plumed into the air, and the only thing that could be seen of the crash site to an outside eye was a crater spanning a wide circumference. The smoke debris briefly parted; revealing Puzzles leading his master out of the crater’s wreckage. The two watched their step, so none of them could accidentally walk on the shards of ice littered within the crater. As the two exited the newly-made hole, the smoke closed into the gap they were denied of occupying. Director Doug held onto his broom, as both of them looked down at the smoking crater. Puzzles sighed, “He’s still alive, Boss.” “I suppose he still would. Marvelous Man is still healing the injured folks, so I must apply a gentle touch to this matter,” huffed Director Skye, “Irregardless, I am having fun.” Puzzles frowned, “That’s not a real word, Boss.” “And you’re not Russian, yet you still talk with that accent,” mused the Director. Noises began to stir within the hole. The sound of Gilgamesh’s footsteps crunched amongst the rubble, as the cloud of dust dissipated to reveal the Sumerian demigod standing up straight. Director Skye shouted, “I gotta say, you got a hell of a chin there! I’m gonna have to mark you as a Rank B then.” “Hmph, that star child used the same tactic against the Skeleton Lord. It’s not impressive to use your weight to crush your enemies. But I will admit something, witch, that really frightened me. To fall out of the sky like that. And it really hurt,” remarked Gilgamesh. Walking out of the rubble, the golden guardian no longer appeared amused. His hairy body was covered in dirt and bruises, but did not appear to have any serious damage on his muscular frame. Director Doug smiled, “Good. Now to continue with your education, I used a bubble spell that allows one to be bounced away upon any blunt contact; regardless of one’s weight inside the bubble.” “After that, I pinned you on a beehive barrier spell. And fun fact about that spell, you can summon the pieces individually rather than a whole set. So you could use it as a platform or flip it onto its side and use it as a projectile. But I think I made a good choice, since your body seems to have a high level of...imperviency,” he continued. The Director dragged on, “And finally, I used a basic ice encasement spell. We were so high up, I could draw in so much more moisture than is needed to make that spell. I made it a hella big, so it would be really heavy in the hopes of crushing you. Sadly, that did not work. But, my, was it spectacular.” Gilgamesh’s face became neutral upon hearing Director Skye’s lecture. There was a small pause after the Director finished, that he smirked for a second before giggling. The giggle then transformed to a bellowing laugh. “You most certainly enlightened me on the usefulness of defense magic, witch!” guffawed the Sumerian demigod, “Have you anything left to say before I pound you to death with my bare hands? I would decapitate you, but I seem to have lost my weapons while being adrift in the sky.” Director Skye held up his index finger. “Just one,” he replied. The Director looked down at his smoke imp. He requested, “Puzzles, would you please prepare the Cuban Room for our guest? We need to wrap this up, and I am parching for some sweet tea.” Puzzles looked up at his master, as he reached inside of his business suit’s jacket. “Certainly, Boss,” he smiled. The smoke imp then retrieved a large cigar and a silver lighter from his cobalt jacket. Flipping the lid off of the lighter, it ignited a small, red flame. Puzzles quickly lit the dark brown cigar, before putting the tobacco product in his mouth. He then proceeded to take a deep inhale, as he snuffed the lighter's flame and placed it back into his pocket. Director Doug curtly bowed, “Now you may try pulverizing me.” Gilgamesh’s eyes glinted with acknowledgement of what the battle’s outcome will be. He nodded before charging forward. The golden guardian sprinted as fast as he could while screaming out his battle cry. Every step he took vibrated a heavy thud, as he drew closer. Within a few steps of Gilgamesh reaching the master witch, Puzzles blew out the cigar exhaust he had been dragging. The dark gray smoke stretched itself outward like a wall; bordering between the golden guardian and the heroes. Without a sign of hesitation, Gilgamesh charged into the smoke. The cigar fog enveloped the Sumerian demigod and immediately transformed. The smoke reshaped itself into an interior location. Gilgamesh now stood inside a wooden hallway with an antique Victorian design. The walls were bare of any windows and were instead draped with red curtains. The golden guardian’s mouth was agape in surprise, as he looked at both sides of the hallway. On his left was a dead end with a tall, wooden grandfather clock stationed where a doorway should be. The clock’s ticks and tocks echoed throughout the hallway; mixing with another noise that sounded like wood crackling in a fire. On the right side of the hallway was the source of the fire crackling sound. A lit hearth, at the end of the hallway’s right side, radiated the Victorian hallway with warmth and yellowish light. With his face changing from shock to curiousity, Gilgamesh thumped towards the grandfather clock. He stood in front of it and studied it closely. The wooden clock had a simple design with grooves and an etching of a pine cone on its top frame. Inside of it, its golden pendulum swung in syncro with the clock’s ticks. “Welcome to the Cuban Room,” drawled the Director. Gilgamesh instantly reacted to the Southern gentlemanly voice; turning around to face the master witch. At the end other end of the wooden hallway, a red armchair now existed in front of the fireplace. The armchair faced the hearth and had a man sitting in it. The man seen only from behind had auburn hair like Director Skye. His pale, white hand rested on the chair’s arms and held the lit cigar Puzzles had just smoked. The Sumerian demigod muttered, “Is this pathetic illusion supposed to stop me?” Gilgamesh slammed his fist against the wall. Rather than exploding into smoke, the wall resisted the golden guardian’s strike. “That it is. I did tell you that I’m a Master Witch of the Defense Arts, didn’t I?” said the Director. Gilgamesh frowned, “That was the familiar who said it. And you are not the witch either.” The supposed Director Doug said nothing, as he brought the cigar to his face. Seconds pass by until a loud exhale resounded from his location. A long plume of cigar smoke blew into the air above the alleged master witch, as he rested his cigar hand back onto the red chair’s arm. “Does it matter?” he replied, “You still have to beat me to get out of here. So go on. Pulverize me.” The golden guardian slowly stepped forward; as if expecting more tricks. He kept walking towards the other end of the red-curtained hallway, when his face then contorted in confusion. As he reach the middle of the wooden hallway, his progress seemed to have come to a halt. He was walking, but he was not moving any closer to his destination. Gilgamesh changed his motion into a sprint, but the result was the same. Looking down, the Sumerian demigod could see the floor beneath himself moving like a treadmill. The floor shifted in the opposite direction Gilgamesh was trying to go and increased its speed when Gilgamesh did so. “I’m waiting,” teased the auburn-haired man. Gilgamesh gritted his teeth, as he kept trying to push forward with no foreseeable result. The supposed Director Skye laughed; echoing throughout the wooden hallway that drowned out the grandfather clock’s ticking sound. Sections of the hallways in front of the golden guardian began to rotate like an inverse rubix cube. Walls had been rotated into floors and ceilings and vice versa. At the end of the hallway where the assumed Director and the fireplace sat had now been rotated up to the ceiling. Gravity had no effect on them, and even the smoke drifted down to the ceiling floor. The grandfather clock’s noise began to override the laughing, as it chimed its hourly clock strike noise. Soft bells rang in the air, as it caught Gilgamesh’s attention. Turning around, his eyes widened upon gazing the hallway behind him. As the clock bellowed its haunting lower-toned bells, the architecture started to become undone. Segments of floor, ceiling, and wall broke off and flew into a black void that became more visible with every breakage. Eventually, even the wooden grandfather clock was sucked into the nothing. Face filled with panic, Gilgamesh pushed himself to run faster, jump, and even lunge forward like Marvelous Man’s signature move. Every effort he did caused either himself to not move forward or the fireplace-end of the hallway to extend farther out of his reach. He dared to look back and could see the Cuban Room’s dismantle growing closer to him. He shouted, “It’s not real! IT’S NOT REAL!!!” The ceiling right above Gilgamesh splintered into many pieces. The Sumerian demigod dared to glance up. Within the black void above him stood a giant Puzzles glaring down at Gilgamesh. The smoke imp was the size of skyscrapers, and his eyes glowed with pure white. The familiar's horns had a devious point and seemed to be the size of a small house. When Puzzles spoke, it was as if a giant with a Russian accent talked. “DOES. IT. MATTER.” said the giant Puzzles. Gilgamesh froze, as a burst of light flashed around him. When the flash immediately died down, a rectangular prism of light encased his hairy body. None of the golden guardian’s muscles twitched, and neither did his eyes stir. Puzzles blinked at the frozen Sumerian demigod. The Cuban Room instantly vanished into smoke; fizzling out of reality. What was a smoky existence now returned back to the glowing park before the Sumerian demigod was transported. The petrified Gilgamesh floated above the park’s grass that had become enchanted with a sunlight quality. Puzzles waddled up to the prism of light. He glanced his eyes up and down the muscular man before turning to his right. The smoke imp looked towards his master, who stood with his silver broom in hand. He questioned, “The time capsule spell? I thought you would have done the sex cocoon spell. Much easier to cast.” “There’s no damn way I’m casting that spell. Unless you want to open him up from the cocoon and get hit with sex stink,” retorted the Director. Puzzles frowned, “Fair enough. At least you casted the spell to capture him off the ground. Would have been a real pain to move him if the dirt got caught in the time capsule. So how much time do we have before he thaws out?” Director Skye squatted down to analyze his handiwork. Surrounding the time-frozen Gilgamesh was a magical seal carved into the ground. Its sequences of runes and shapes within the circle was more complex than the light-conjured magic circles the Director created. “Well, it was a rush job, but I managed to get it all right. Should buy us at least three hours at most,” stated Director Doug. Puzzles nodded while reaching into his business suit’s pocket to pull out a smartphone. The smoke imp spoke, “I’ll call somebody to pick this up and get everybody here treated. Oh, and don’t forget your coat, Boss.” “Shoot!” spat the Director. Director Skye took off running. His face held panic that most likely was due to the possibility of his cobalt jacket becoming dirty. A voice called out, “Puzzles?” Facing to the voice behind himself, Puzzles spotted Gene limping towards him. The bunny demigod had his hand placed over his chest, and his white rabbit ears were drooped down. “Bossman and I came over to deal with Gilgamesh. You’re welcome,” said Puzzles. The rabbit superhero glanced at the time-frozen Sumerian demigod before looking back at the cold-eyed smoke imp. Gene asked, “And what of Marvelous Man?” “He’s fine for the most part. His hand is broken, but he managed supercharge the area to heal everybody. Let’s just hope you don’t let him get killed next time. Healers of his caliber are rare. Don’t fuck it up again,” answered Puzzles. The bunny demigod became silent. His head bent down in shame, and his eyes became incapable of visually connecting with Puzzles’. Director Doug shouted, “It got halfway to the ground! Goshdang, I sure am getting rusty!” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> An hour after the incident, the team assembled back at the D.A.B. building. Marvelous Man and Gene were exiting the elevator on the fifth floor. As they walked towards the Director’s office, Marvelous Man kept staring at his hand. It was the hand that was broken by Gilgamesh’s crushing grip, yet it now looked as if it was never harmed. Marvelous Man flexed his newly-healed hand. “Are you in pain?” asked Gene. Marvelous Man looked at Gene, “Huh? Oh, no. It’s fine...just amazed that it's fixed already. There’s not even a scar or anything.” “Yes. It is most fortunate to discover that you have the healing factor. Given enough time, you can recover from any wound,” noted Gene. Marvelous Man sighed, “Yeah...just wish I could’ve regenerated faster.” Gene said nothing, as the two continued down the hallway. Marvelous Man then spotted their field analyst, Fairuza, standing in front of Director Skye’s office door. As if on cue, Fairuza turned to her team and waved. “Hey, you two. Ready to head in?” smiled Fairuza. Marvelous Man shrugged, “Yeah, I guess. I’m just glad it’s not gonna be as awkward as the last time we all got called up here.” “I feel the same,” nodded Fairuza. The sorceress knocked on the Director’s door. Seconds ticked by, until it was opened by Puzzles to usher them in. Fairuza was the first to cross into the office with Marvelous Man following in behind her and ducking underneath the doorway. As Gene finally entered, the smoke imp closed the door behind the three. Inside the cobalt-carpeted office, Director Doug sat behind his cherrywood desk. He calmly smiled while sipping on a cold glass of sweet team. Marvelous Man immediately noticed there was another person in the office, as Puzzles’ smoky form glided back to the desk. An android was sitting was sitting in the black lounge chair propped against the wall. Despite his mechanical design, his stocky body almost looked soft. A great majority of the android’s torso consisted of black synthetic muscle that appeared to have a rubber-like quality than a metallic kind. These black muscle cords also appeared on his biceps and along the inner and outer thighs. His abdomen had a white, gelatin-like layering that seemed similar to soft, fatty tissue; giving the android an athletic gut. The white layer had as well traced over his fingers, toes, groinal region, and even on the underside of his pecs. It was peculiar to Marvelous Man that the android also had rubbery nipples, the size of pencil erasers, that were colored with a blackish hue. Any place on the android that did not require the sense of touch or was not an erogenous zone was plated over with a silver cover. The silver plates had golden outlines for what seemed to be an aesthetic purpose. Curiously, there was also a silver plating on the android’s hips that had handles welded onto them. As for any clothing, the android was sorely lacking any. The only garment he wore was a drawstring mokko fundoshi that covered a generously large package bulging against the fabric. Keychained to the mokko fundoshi was a pink Japanese amulet, that had the astrological symbol, Gemini, printed onto it. Marvelous Man could not help but think that this Soulem felt familiar; especially since the android had his fundoshi and nails colored zaffre. The android glanced up at Marvelous Man. The Soulem’s silver, metallic face had a neutral expression, but the mood rings on his cheeks immediately flashed from white to red. The android’s large, silver nose sharply inhaled before letting out a huff, while his white, digital eyes looked away. The Soulem had sections of golden blocks plated to his head in an attempt to appear as his beard, mohawk, and even eyebrows. He also had a zaffre-colored Phillips screw studded onto his chin. “So,” started the Director, “Capturing Gilgamesh was a success. But he’s still on ice for a few more hours before we can start interrogating him. Hopefully, we’ll be able to find out his connections to the Skeleton Lord and how we can use that to our advantage.” Director Skye looked at Marvelous Man. “As for you, Marvelous Man, great job on healing the civilians. They and their loved ones extend their thanks to you and request that you meet them in person. Now, I told them that you’re a bit busy at the moment trying to help other people and assisting our heroes to fight the bad guys. So it’s up to you if you want to visit them on your off-time. But I suggest you keep your head low if you don’t want to, cause you’re most likely gonna be newsworthy for the next week or so,” he said. Marvelous Man nodded, “Uh, yes, sir.” The Director sipped his sweet tea. “Now, onto the elephant in the room. You three make a great team, but y’all need to up your game a bit. I don’t know why, but fate keeps tossing you right at the Skeleton Lord. And each time, we are in the dark about who he is or what he can do,” he drawled. Director Doug continued, “That’s why I’m sorry to say this, Fairuza, but your magic isn’t cutting it. For some reason, he’s invisible to magic detection and even your analyzing abilities. And that is why I am including a field technician in your group to help study our foe and science his ass. He’s a noncombatant, so make sure he doesn’t get in the midst of y’all’s crossfires.” The Director pointed an open palm to the sitting android. “So until this Skeleton Lord issue has been resolved, meet your new teammate for future missions: Gemini Yin,” introduced Director Skye. Marvelous Man’s eyes widened in surprise, as the Soulem stood up. Maybe it’s a complete coincidence that another Soulem’s name is Gemini? Gemini held out his hand at Marvelous Man, as his voice spoke in an electronic yet masculine tone. He gritted his teeth into a smile, “Hey, bro. You must be Marvelous Man. Ya know, you kinda look like my friend, Justice.” Next Chapter

Hey guys! A big thanks once again for all the support on the story. I love you all, have a great Sunday and I’ll (maybe) see you all next week. Part I Part VI Part II Part VII Part III Part VIII Part IV Part IX Part V Changing my Life Part X Max tried on all the clothes that I bought him. Most of which fitted him perfectly, whilst some of them were a tight fit or ripped apart. After he tested all his new clothes, it was time to empty the wardrobe. In order for us to see what fitted and what not, Max had to wear all his clothes. This gave us an idea of how much he would eventually need. We tossed all his now too small clothes away and made space for his new ones. Most of his old shirts, trousers, socks and so one were thrown away. Max seemed to like ripping his own clothes. Looking at his throbbing bulge, maybe a bit too much. After our big cleanout, we had 5 full rubbish bags, all with Max’s tiny clothes. I was exhausted. My shirt was drenched and had little to no energy left. Max however seemed to be wide awake and fit. “I think I’m going to take a shower and go for an early rest.” I said making my way to the hallway. “Care to join?” I asked playfully. “I’ll be right there with you. I’m going to bring these bags downstairs first.” He said lifting all bags at the same time. I made my way to the bathroom and grabbed a washing cloth and a towel. Running the water of the shower I heard Max stumping down. I undressed myself only to smell my own sweat coming from my shirt. That shirt was ready for laundry. I tossed all my clothes into the laundry basket and stepped into the shower. The water was so warm and comforting. I closed my eyes and enjoyed every second of it. I must’ve enjoyed it to much as I was greeted with a cold hand, resting on my shoulder. Max had entered the shower and, once again, I was in awe as I saw him. His body glistering with water, towering above me. I could feel his throbbing member alongside my thigh. He kneeled down and started kissing my neck. I moaned in pleasure and in no time, we were kissing passionately. He felt more dominating and much more lustful. He broke the kiss and turned me around. He grabbed a bottle of lube which was on one of the shelves just above me. As I looked behind me, I saw just how wide his frame was becoming. I swore he looked bigger every second. He noticed me staring and gave me a smirk and a wink. When he got the lube, he put some on his hand and rubbed it over his thick shaft. He grabbed my head and turned it around. Biting my ear, I felt like I was in heaven. Max was never as dominant as that night. I felt his head pushing against my hole. It was so big. I was moaning louder and louder. I could hear him growl between my moans. Max slowly entered me with his dick and I could feel that it was bigger… Slow and steady didn’t seem to cross his mind anymore as his thrusting became quicker and more violent. With each thrust, it felt like his dick was growing. Out of pain, I looked down to see my feet and Max’. When looking at them again, I couldn’t believe what I saw. He was… growing. His feet stretched across the tiled floor and his calves widened and thickened. I couldn’t believe it. Then I felt the thrusting again and looked around to find him in some sort of trance. His eyes were closed and he was grinding his teeth. His frame widened and his eight-pack bulged out even more. His chest pushed forward and his nips pointed downwards. Biceps boomed up and triceps boomed down. His legs bulging outwards. As I witnessed his enormous growth, I realized that when I thought he looked and felt bigger, I was right. His dick now pushed against my prostate and didn’t seem to show any signs of slowing down its growth. His balls grew to the size of tomatoes whilst his dick seemed to be as big as a courgette. “Max, please stop! You’re hurting me!” I yelled in pain, trying to awake him from his trance. “MUST GROW MORE!” he growled in-between thrusts. He grabbed a hold on the shower grip. The metal started bending whilst Max kept on growling and moaning. Eventually, not able to fight Max’ strength, the handle gave up and broke off. Max however boosted upwards, towards the showerhead. The water stopped running over me as Max’ head now pushed against it. His neck thickened and pushed his head further up. With one loud roar escaping Max’ mouth, the showerhead bended and twisted, making room for a new Max. I felt his dick thrusting deeper and deeper. I couldn’t stop moaning. It hurt, but at the same time, it felt amazing. However, my moaning wasn’t anything compared to Max’s. His growling and moaning shook the perfume bottles on top of the shelves, made the mirror shake and gave me goose bumps. Not able to contain myself, I shot my load all over the tiled shower wall. Max started panting and slammed his fist into the tiled wall. I didn’t know if I had to be frightened or aroused at the sight. “HERE IT COMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH!!” Max yelled in pleasure as his fluids entered my body. Pulling out his dick, it shot its second load against the ceiling. Then there was a third one hitting the now cracked, tiled wall, and then a fourth one and a fifth one, it didn’t seem to end. Then silence returned. The only sound that filled the steamy bathroom was the running water of the shower. I heard Max gasping for air after the biggest load I’d ever seen. I sank to the ground, not able to keep myself up and faced my now hulking boyfriend. Max sat down, against the wall, still with his eyes closed and feet pushing against the glass door. He looked like a beast. Drenched with water and sweat. Veins popping up all over his hulking body. His growth seemed to have ended. I was still somewhat scared that the Max I knew was lost to the pill lurking inside of him. I slowly (and painfully) crouched my way over to the giant and stroked his massive legs making my way up to his cheek. He slowly awoke and looked all around. “What the hell happened? Why are you so tiny? Why is there cum all over the walls and ceiling?” Max said panicking. “You.. you don’t remember? I asked still a bit scared. “No… I remember placing the bags in the garage… walking up the stairs… and feeling really horny when I saw you in the shower…” he said looking at me. I noticed his voice had deepened and sounded more mature and masculine. “You did all of this. This is the mess you’ve made. I think we need to talk to the doc before you take that second pill.” I said trying to stand up. “Wait let me carry you.” Max said lifting me up easily and turning of the shower. He placed me on top of the ottoman that also seemed to have some spots of cum splattered on it. He towelled me down like a real gentlemen and handed me my bathrobe. After he cleaned up his jizz (and a telling me a billion times that he was sorry), he picked me up and we made our way downstairs, into the kitchen. “Could you give me the number of the doc?” I asked picking up the phone, ready to dial, when all of a sudden, Max starts crying… “I’m sorry…” he said between sobs “It’s all my fault…” “No it isn’t. You didn’t know that that pill would have such an effect on you.” I said rubbing his back. “This isn’t because of one pill…” he said looking away. “What do you mean?” I asked confused as to what he was saying. Max stood up to his full height, only centimetres away from the ceiling. He walked towards the kitchen and opened the cabinet that had the jar in it. Reaching for the jar, I sensed a look of fear on his face. Max seemed to hesitate whether or not to take the jar. He managed to take it and slowly walked back to the table where I sat. Max placed the jar on the table and shoved it towards me. I looked at him questioned and opened the lid… “It’s empty…” I said slowly, realizing that all 5 pills were gone. “I’m sorry!” Max said once again. “You mean you took all of them at the same time?!” I asked raising my voice. “Would you please calm down and listen to me for just a moment?” he asked, kneeling in front of me. I nodded and Max started talking: “So when we received the pills, I couldn’t wait to start with the experiment. When we arrived home I took my first pill…” “That being the one I saw?” I interrupted “Exactly. But as days went on, I didn’t see any changes. So I was tempted to take a second one, which I eventually did. Then it showed some result and so I took the third one. Then the accident happened at that party so I thought I was doing it right. And that’s when I took all of the remaining pills…” He said cringing and realizing his mistakes. For a few minutes, I couldn’t say a word. I was on one hand scared of the things that could potentially go wrong, and on the other hand, I was mad… no furious that, during this entire week, he was lying to me. But I didn’t want to shout at him. One reason being that he didn’t do it on purpose. The second reason being… while he may look big, Max is somewhat of a child hidden inside a now colossal beast so if he would start running away… I mean how would you react if a hulking figure would run across your yard at night? But I needed to know what the consequences were and what caused his animalistic behaviour in the shower. So I tried to think of something to say… “Max what you did, was wrong… but I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” I said calmly. Max turned his head and nodded in agreement. “There is erm… one more thing I haven’t told you yet…” he said looking at the ground. “Remember when you went shopping and told me that I had to inform the doc about my progress?” “Yes…” I answered anxiously. “I didn’t really send him anything. I actually didn’t want to because I was afraid I had to stop the experiment if he knew what I did.” He said looking back at me. Max sat back down. The chair underneath him was creaking due to his new weight. If I wasn’t mad at him before, now I was definitely mad because of his lies. However, I couldn’t blame him. Even though I was against it in the first place, I actually started to like all this growing. I wrapped my head around it and came with an offer: “Listen Max. I don’t like the fact that you lied to me. But I understand your fear of quiting the experiment. I don’t want to stop this experiment either. I like the way you look and love how happy you are. But I don’t know the consequences from taking all those pills at ones. I mean, you saw what happened upstairs right? What do you say if we take measurements now, send it to the doc and see what he thinks?” Max was silence for a bit, but eventually said yes. He ran upstairs, quaking the house, to get the measuring tape. I still had some difficulty trying to stand up, but the pain in my bum was bearable. Then the shaking returned and shortly after, Max’s was towering beside be. We also took a blank sheet of paper and a pen to write all our measurements down. As we began with the measuring I realised that this time, I had to use a chair to measure his full height. After 10 more minutes, I wrote down all Max’s stats and this was the end result: Neck: 45 cm (18 inch.) Arms: 60 cm (24 inch.) Waist: 88 cm (35 inch.) Chest: 142 cm (56 inch.) Legs: 83 cm (33 inch.) Calves: 60 cm (24 inch.) Height: 2.15 m (7ft) Weight: 145 kg (320 lbs) It was the first time that Max and I were both shocked at the result. Some of these results, we thought, were inhuman. After we gathered this information, it was time to inform the doc. I got my phone out and max handed me his number. I took a deep breath and dialled the number. Putting it on speaker, I heard a familiar voice answering the phone. “Doctor Petrov, what can I do for you?"

Note: I realized today, almost two years after posting the first chapter of Andrew's Recruiting Summer, that I had forgotten to write an introduction for the story. So this prologue will serve that purpose. ANDREW'S RECRUITING SUMMER: PROLOGUE Andrew Pearson of Orillia, Ontario, Canada was a normal-sized kid for his first 10 years. He was even a bit on the small side, even though his father was 6 foot 3 and 230 pounds. He had red hair and blue eyes. His father Chad was one of the Vice-Presidents of a big sports company: Harrington's Sports Suppliers in Barrie, Ontario. Chad promised to provide Andrew with a complete home gym when he started growing, which occurred around his 11th birthday(October of 1998), when Andrew was in Grade Five. So Chad kept his promise and bought Andrew a bunch of gym equipment for his 11th birthday. He also got Andrew a guest pass to his company gym and began training Andrew in the proper weight-lifting techniques. Andrew wanted to play in the NCAA one day, so he wanted to get big for high school football. By Grade Eight(Fall of 2001), Andrew had dedicated almost three years to his weight-lifting. The diet his father gave him, combined with puberty, helped Andrew enter Grade Eight weighing 200 pounds and standing six feet tall. He was the biggest kid in school, and his friend Mike Stevenson was almost his size. Mike had been weight-training with Andrew since the summer of 1999. Andrew and Mike both got top marks in gym class and the gym teachers were very impressed. His gym teachers had the high school football coaches come to scout Andrew at recess, when he played football with his friends outside. The high school coaches were very impressed with Andrew and Mike’s performance and they arranged for them to try out for the Varsity football team at ODCVI when they entered Grade Nine. That was the same high school where Andrew's father Chad had played football in the mid to late 1970s. In high school, Andrew and Mike were the biggest kids in Grade Nine so they easily passed the tryouts to join the Orillia District Junior Football Team in the fall of 2002. Andrew now had regular access to the high school gym as well as his home gym. His father Chad had constantly updated his gym every birthday with the latest equipment. Andrew’s mother, Susan, had made a lot of money in a home-based computer business and then as an author, and she was a millionare. Susan and Chad wanted the best for Andrew and his sister Sarah, who had brown hair and green eyes and played on the ODCVI Girl's hockey team. So instead of buying a big fancy house in an exclusive neighborhood, they invested heavily in their kids’ education. Andrew wanted to go to one of the big football schools in the States, and so did Sarah, so their parents started the RESP investing early, to make sure they could finance their kid’s education with no trouble, if necessary. Of course, their hope was that both Andrew and Sarah would get athletic scholarships to big sports schools in the NCAA, which would completely fund their college education. Chad and Susan also made sure Andrew and Sarah got jobs after Grade 8 and saved their money to buy their first (used) cars. Actually, Chad and Susan bought the cars and then Andrew and Sarah made monthly car payments to their parents. By Grade Eleven(Fall of 2004), Andrew was the biggest person in his high school, weighing in at 275 pounds, with a height of 6 feet 7 inches. His friend Mike was a close second at 6 foot 6 and 260 pounds. They had been starters on the Offensive Line of the Varsity football team since Grade Nine. Andrew served as Center, making him the Co-Captain of the team along with the Quarterback. He led the Offensive Line in protecting the Quarterback: making sure that he had an open passing lane and that no one on the opposing team could sack him before he could throw a pass. When he served as Middle Linebacker on the defensive line, Andrew regularly broke through the opposing team’s front line in football games, sacking the quarterback before he could throw the ball. Then he showed great sportsmanship, helping the players up with an outstretched hand after he had knocked them down. Andrew also jumped to intercept the ball when the opposing team tried to score field goals, and smashed through the opposing receivers who tried to score touchdowns. He ran over anyone who tried to stop him, causing many opposing players left the field on stretchers that season thanks to being knocked down, and sometimes out, by Andrew. Andrew had a major shy streak however, which became evident whenever anyone praised him for his athletic achievements. He was tremendously admired and respected for his athletic gifts and sportsmanship. He was truly the ‘Big Man’ at his high school. Andrew felt really guilty whenever he had accidentally knocked out an opposing team's player during a game, so he visited them in the hospital after the games to make sure they were all right. Once the injured players told their teammates about Andrew visiting them in the hospital, even the players of opposing teams greatly admired and respected Andrew. He didn't want to ruin that good reputation, so he slowly worked on controlling his great strength so that he wouldn't knock out any more opposing players. By the end of the 2004 football season, he had managed to get through the last few games without knocking anyone out. Andrew was respected for his academic gifts as well. He took a school IQ test in Grade Seven and the results came out to 150. Andrew didn’t want everyone to think of him as some kind of genius, so he begged his parents and the IQ testers to keep the results quiet. They agreed, but told him that he would need great marks to qualify for a full athletic scholarship to an American football school. So Andrew studied hard, even when he didn’t need to, and regularly got 90s in the last years of public school. He even won a math award at Grade Eight Graduation. In high school Andrew's academic excellence continued, and he won at least one academic award every year. He also tutored a lot of football players in math and science, subjects he regularly got 90s in. Andrew also acted like a sort of mentor to the kids who were just starting to work out. Some of those kids helped him in return by tutoring him in subjects he found difficult, like Physics. Andrew also got a part-time job in his father’s company, where his great strength came in handy unloading the trucks that came in with huge boxes of workout equipment. He managed to get his bench-press to 700 pounds by the time he entered Grade Eleven; it had increased by about 100 pounds each school year. Andrew’s coworkers were amazed by Andrew’s great strength and how he always offered to help them out without having to be asked. Andrew acted mostly out of shyness or guilt, but everyone assumed he was just being helpful. The only person who knew Andrew’s hidden feelings of shyness was his girlfriend, Carrie Peterson. She was Steve’s sister, but even though Steve was not friends with Andrew, he knew that he had no chance of taking Andrew on in a fight. So he kept his mouth shut about Andrew dating his sister. He knew Andrew would treat her like a lady anyway, so he didn't worry that Andrew would ever hurt her. Carrie knew how shy Andrew was and how he overcompensated by acting like a cocky jock on the football field. She also knew how guilty Andrew felt whenever he hurt people on the football field, even though it was just part of the game. She was the one who helped Andrew control his great strength, by advising him to treat people as respectfully and gently as he treated her. So Andrew followed her advice and began helping up the people he knocked down, and visiting them in the hospital, if he had knocked them out. Later he managed to knock them down more gently, so that they could actually get up and play again. Most people saw Andrew as just a big jock, but Carrie knew better. In the spring of 2005, the coaches from Division 1 schools in the NCAA began calling Andrew to invite him down for football camps. His Head Coach, Dan Everson, had put together highlight tapes of Andrew's football performances since Grade Nine (Freshman Year) and had mailed them out to all the schools. It helped that Andrew had gone as a guest on the Official Visits of his older teammates since Grade Nine. So, on Canada Day Weekend 2005, Andrew decided to visit the first four schools that had invited him down for Unofficial Visits. But first, since he had spent Canada Day in Ottawa, he decided to spend Independence Day in Washington DC at the National Mall. He invited his girlfriend Carrie and best friend Mike to go with him, hoping that they would attract some NCAA attention like he had. He never anticipated that he would make a new friend in Washington DC, nor that the connections from that visit would allow him to attract the attention of more NCAA football schools in the Deep South. ==================================================================================================================================================== Click on the links below to read the completed chapters of the story so far. Chapter 1: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/5707-andrews-recruiting-summer-chapter-1-meeting-a-new-friend-in-washington-dc/ Chapter 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6215-andrews-recruiting-summer-chapter-2-revelations/ Chapter 3: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6254-andrews-recruiting-summer-chapter-3-fun-at-the-park/#comment-59447 Chapter 4: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6314-andrews-recruiting-summer-chapter-4-meeting-the-parents/ Chapter 5: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6993-andrews-recruiting-summer-chapter-5-meeting-ryan/ Chapter 6: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/8884-andrews-recruiting-summer-chapter-6-the-ohio-state-recruiting-visit-part-1/ Hope you like what I have written of the story so far. ==================================================================================================================================================== Since this prologue is also a summary of my other story: Andrew's Training, the links to the completed chapters of that story are below. Prologue: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/5231-andrews-training-chapter-0-prologue/#comment-48435 Chapter 1: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/5227-andrews-training-chapter-1-re-posted-from-archive/#comment-48393 Chapter 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/5318-andrews-training-chapter-2-the-chat-with-carrie/#comment-49303 Chapter 3: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/5491-andrews-training-chapter-3-the-first-workout/#comment-51258 Chapter 4: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/5626-andrews-training-chapter-4-sues-birthday-party/#comment-52583 Chapter 5: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/5945-andrews-training-chapter-5-canada-day-at-the-park/#comment-56403 Chapter 6: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6295-andrews-training-chapter-6-working-out-at-derricks-cottage/#comment-59799 Chapter 7: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7001-andrews-training-chapter-7-at-work-with-his-dad/#comment-67748 Chapter 8: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7639-andrews-training-chapter-8-the-trip-to-the-meaford-base/#comment-75840 Chapter 9 is not complete yet, but here is the link to what I have posted so far: Chapter 9 In-Progress: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/9038-andrews-training-chapter-9-mentored-by-matt-day-one/#comment-94452 For sneak peaks of what comes next in Andrew's training, check out my website: http://andrewstories3.webs.com The chapters that are not completed yet are below the guestbook, with the month and year in which they take place as the titles.

Sorry for the long delay, I had some trouble writhing this part. However I do have some ideas for the upcoming parts… but you’ll have to wait and see when they come out… Anyway I hope you’ll enjoy and as always thank you for the support and lovely messages. Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Changing my Life Part IX Standing before me was Mr Jones. I hadn’t seen him since the incident that happened at the party. I was practically frozen but knew that I couldn’t tell him what was going on. I changed my shocked face into a smile and greeted him. “How’s Max doing? Is he feeling a bit better?” “Max… erm yeah… he’s uh… he’s doing great!” I said mumbling. “Great to hear. I honestly felt a bit disappointed that you left. It was your party too, you know.” “I know sir, but I couldn’t keep Max from going home and taking care of him.” “I understand…” he said looking down and back up to see the boot of my car. Checking all the bags filled with oversized clothing, he looked back at me. “Those aren’t for you I may hope.” He said laughing. “No sir, they’re for Max.” I said. Mr Jones stopped laughing. Stunned he looked back at the boot. “Max?! He doesn’t need those, does he?” he asked. “He takes bodybuilding serious lately.” I said trying to find another excuse. “Oh, well then… I’ll see you around?” he said turning back to exit the car park. “Sure…” I said closing the boot. He wandered off, sometimes looking quizzed back at my car until he finally reached the exit of the car park. Relieved that the conversation ended, I started the engine and drove back home. Arriving home and stopping the car, I unloaded the boot and placed all the bags into the garage. As I closed the boot, I could smell the sweet sense of scrambled eggs. Feeling my tummy rumble I opened the door which led to the laundry. The door to the kitchen was opened and the smell of the delicious food overtook me. “Oh it smells lovely in here.” I said entering the kitchen. The kitchen was empty but the table was already set. Then I heard the stomping of heavy feet and noticed the glasses on the kitchen counter shaking. Water was vibrating as the stomping came closer. Two large feet entered the kitchen followed by 2 massive pecs and a body which made my body shiver and my cock spring to life. Ducking down Max’s massive body entered the room “I thought you’d like it.” He said looking down at me. I still wasn’t used to his hulking body and was in awe when I saw him in his full nakedness. I noticed that the only thing that came out of my open mouth was drool. My daydream quickly ended when Max started speaking again. “Did you find me some new clothes?” He asked walking towards the garage. “Y.. yeah, but err… I don’t know if it’ll fit.” I said following him to where I put the bags. Max started looking through the bags and grabbing some of the items. He turned around and pulled a tank top over his massive body. As he pulled it down, we both saw that it didn’t fully cover up his abs. It hardly reached his bellybutton. “It’ll do for now.” He said winking at me. He turned around and grabbed a pair of briefs and some trousers and laid them on top of my car. First he (tried) putting the briefs on. They stretched over his massive quads and tightened on his massive bulge and bum. There was no point in putting them on, they didn’t cover anything. Next were his trousers. They fitted perfectly. Even though he had a bit of a problem with closing the zipper, they were a nice fit. Seeing him smile made me swoon. He walked over to me and picked me up as if I was a feather. Kissing me passionately, he hugged me and held me for a few minutes. “Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have gotten a better boyfriend than you.” He whispered in my ear. Afterwards we walked back to the kitchen and dug into our food. I told max about how difficult it was to find clothes for him and about my encounter with Mr Jones. He laughed and didn’t seem to stop eating. He ate twice as much as I did. “Hey, did you receive an e-mail form the doc yet?” I asked almost forgetting. “Erm yeah, he said that the transformation is going according to plan and that I could take the second pill.” Max said between mouthfuls. “Well then, what are we waiting for?” I said standing up and walking towards the jar. “JAKE! STOP IT RIGHT THERE!” Max yelled, stopping me in my tracks. Frightened I looked back at him and saw him standing upright. “I.. I mean… I don’t want it yet…” he said sitting back down and looking at his empty plate. Questioned I walked back to the table and sat back down. “What do you mean? This is what you want, isn’t it?” I asked looking him into his eyes. “Yeah, but I’ll take it tonight, okay?” He said looking a bit down. “Hey, are you alright?” I asked placing my tiny hand on his oversized forearm. “I’m fine. It’s all just a bit much, you know. I still have to get used to this size.” He said looking for a bit of comfort. “I hear ya.” I said kissing him on the cheek. “Why don’t you have a look at the clothes and see if you like and fit in them all, whilst I wash the dishes.” Max looked up and embraced me. Smiling again, he walked back to the garage. I cleaned of the table and started washing up when I heard the first rips coming from the garage...

As always, thank you for all the support and reputation . I would like to mention that I’m having some problems at work so I’ll only upload on Sundays. Thanks for understanding and have a great Sunday! Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Changing my Life Part VIII “Rise and shine” I heard Max’s deeper voice say when I awoke the next morning. I sat up straight and looked at him. Before me, stood a tall, wide and hot muscle god with a small tray in his hands. He was wearing a tiny little speedo which, to be honest, didn’t cover up anything from his mammoth prick and a red bow tie around his neck. “Here you go.” He said handing me a breakfast tray. The tray contained 2 slices of bread, some sandwich filling, a glass of orange juice, yoghurt and a red rose in a vase. “Oh that’s so sweet. To what do I owe this?” I asked smiling at the most heart-warming breakfast I’ve ever received. “Just because you kept believing in me and helping me get through with it.” He said blushing and scratching the back of his neck as he told me how grateful he was. “This bow tie is getting a little bit too tight.” He said struggling to get the bow off of him. He sat down on my side of the bed. With one quick rip, the bow was off. Admiring the view was the only thing I could do. Max had grown so much since he started the experiment. I was pleased at how well it had been working the last couple of days and was getting excited at how much he would grow, but I wasn’t the only one that was excited. Whilst admiring my gorgeous boyfriend I saw, in the corner of my eye, that his little boy was waking up too. I quickly looked back as I didn’t want to be staring at it like a pervert. Max noticed it too and placed his big hands on it to keep it from ripping his favourite speedo. “Sorry this happens a lot since I took that pill. I just can’t stop looking at myself and enjoying what I see.” “I get it.” I said knobbing in agreement. I knew he enjoyed it as much as I did. “Hey uh, could you do me a favour?” he said rubbing his hands together. “Sure. What can I do for ya?” I asked placing the tray next to me. “It’s just that I need some new clothes and I can’t go out looking like this.” “What do you mean. You can still wear my clothes.” Max didn’t answer. He just looked at me, smiling, and turned red. “I think I grew a little overnight.” He said laughing. Max stood up from the bed and told me he would get his new stats as he measured himself that morning when he made my breakfast. As he reached the bedroom door, I immediately saw that he grew. He had to duck his head to get through the door and went sideways too. “I’ve got them!” he said entering the bedroom again. “So… how tall do you think I am?” Max asked holding the papers with both hands and pressing them into his chest in hopes that I wouldn’t see the answer to his question. “Uh I don’t know, like, 2.00 meters?” “NOPE!” he shouted with excitement “I’m now at 2.05 meters. Isn’t it great! However I do still weigh somewhat the same.” I leaned back, my head lying on my pillow. he grew over night! This can't be right. “That’s lovely, but uh…” I stumbled over my words as I was searching for the right words to tell him how I felt without him getting angry or thinking that I wouldn’t support him anymore. “What is it?” he said approaching me. “Don’t you think you’ve grown enough. I mean, this all happened with just one pill.” Max looked at me, not knowing how to react. He sat down next to me and looked down. “I thought you’d be happy for me.” he added. “I am, I’m just worried that you’ll grow too big. I still have to keep up with ya.” I said punching him on his shoulder and smiling at him, trying not to make him feel guilty; “Maybe you’re right, but I like the feeling of being the bigger one.” He said looking back at me. “You know what, why don’t we make a deal. You can grow a bit more, but when I feel like you’ve grown enough, you stop.” I said sticking my small hand out, ready to shake Max’s big, meaty hand. “Deal!” he said smiling and looking excited. Then he stopped smiling for a moment and added “Err, there’s something else I need you to do for me…” “What is it?” I asked curious. “You know how I ripped out of most of my clothes?” he said looking at some of the shirts and trousers that were still covering the bedroom floor. “Yes” I said raising my eyebrow. “Well… could you… maybe… get me some new ones?” he asked. “Sure!” I said happily. “I’ll get some new ones right after my appointment of this afternoon. But you’ll have to give me your stats so that I know what to pick.” He jumped off of the bed and walked up to me, giving me a big kiss on my cheek. “You’re the best, I love you!” After our little talk, Max gave me a piece of paper and some measuring tape and we started writing down all his stats. Once we were finished, I took my documents with me for my appointment and told Max that he should contact the doc. to inform him about his progress as I forgot to do so. He told me he’d write an e-mail and would add some pics to also show him the results. I told him that’d be fine and I left. I went to our local shopping centre which was just a fifteen minute drive. Walking around, I saw a lot of shops with XXL sizes. However, they weren’t the cheapest clothes. I got a few hoodies, shirts, T-shirts, trousers, pants, socks, jackets and so on. I even got him some new shoes because I knew that the ones he got would be destroyed by the time he’d be done. Back at the car park, I was loading the boot when I heard someone sneak up behind me, grabbing my shoulder and saying “Great to see you again.” I panicked when I turned around.

Once again, thank you for all the support on the story. I don’t really know how the story will continue next as I’m still figuring it out. However, if you have any requests or ideas, I’d love to hear them. Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Changing my Life Part VII That night I awoke to several strange sounds coming from the kitchen. Looking at my phone I saw that it was 4.55 AM. I turned around, trying to wake Max up. But as I shook the blankets, I discovered that Max was nowhere near me. His side of the bed was empty. I tossed the duvet off of me and got out of bed. Slowly making my way down the noises kept getting louder and louder. Tiptoeing into the living room, I found a shadow of, what seemed like a hung beast, forming on the ground. The light came from the refrigerator. I glanced around the corner not knowing who, or what, I was going to find. I heard the beast gulping and munching on the contents that were stacked in our fridge. Once I glanced into the kitchen I saw a beast feasting on every piece of food he could get. “Max? Is that you?” I asked entering the kitchen step by step. The hung beast turned his head and looked right at me. I looked in its eyes and saw that it was indeed Max. But he didn’t look the same as he used to be a few hours ago. His already broad shoulders were as wide as the fridge, his 6 pack had been transformed into an 8 pack, his legs were bigger than my 2 arms put together and his bulge was as big as my head, stretching the tiny waistband of his underpants to its limits. And then there was his height. He seemed to have grown over night. Max stopped eating and turned his entire body towards me. “Are.. are you okay?” I asked as he stood there, intimidating me by his sheer size and muscles. I was trembling at the thought that he could crush me with just his bare hands. But that thought quickly faded as Max started to talk. “Sorry for waking you baby, I don’t know why but I’m just so HUNGRY!” he said raising his arms and doing a double bicep pose. He enjoyed himself probably a bit too much as his member started to stretch the waistband even more. “OH, this feels so good.” Max said biting his lips and closing his eyes again. With a loud rip, the waistband gave up and his big meaty prick nocked some empty bottles over, smashing them to the ground. “That wasn’t meant to happen.” He said looking at me with a worried look on his face. “Don’t worry about it.” I said reassuring him “Are you feeling alright?” I asked. I was still a bit frightened seeing him so hungry and powerful. “I, I think so. I’m not as hungry as before.” He said feeling his 8 pack. I felt myself shivering and getting goose bumps. Looking at his hands moving around his stomach, I kept reminding myself that he could crush me with his bare hands. Max raised his head and saw my fearful expression. “Oh baby, don’t worry. I know it’s all a bit scary but I’ll never hurt you. I love you.” He said stumping his big feet towards me. He reached under my arms and picked me up easily. He held me at the same height as his head and slowly came forward. We started to kiss and I could feel just how big his tongue was inside of my mouth. It filled up most of my mouth. I wasn’t complaining though. I was happy that he finally had the body he always dreamed of. My fear and anxiety got replaced by the feeling of protection and lust. Max turned me around and placed me on the marble countertop of our kitchen island and slowly worked his way down my body. It felt amazing. He licked my abs and twisted my nips along the way. I moaned wanting him to worship me more with his fantastic new body. Making his way down he pulled my underwear down and started sucking my throbbing member. Max had always been a good bottom but now. It seemed the more he grew, the better he got at sex. He stopped for a moment and grabbed my legs. Pulling them apart, he lifted me up and placed me on my back. Spitting on my small crack, he pushed his big index finger deep inside of me. I couldn’t contain myself and started moaning louder. “You like that?” he asked. I knobbed and Max pushed a second one inside. I grabbed the ends of the countertop as tightly as I could. It felt so good but at the same time it hurt so much. Max looked up and into my eyes. “May I?” he asked looking at his throbbing beast. I knobbed again. He didn’t waste any time. Pushing his big beast inside of my tight hole. I screamed as he kept thrusting in like a maniac. I felt like my hole was about to explode. He kept on going deeper and deeper inside as his orange sized balls constantly hit my ass. “RRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!!” He screamed and released his entire load. Max pulled out and gallons of cum followed, flooding the countertop and the floor. He grabbed my dick and stroked it as fast as he could, making me cum and hitting him in his face. He placed his head on my newly formed belly and closed his eyes as we both were panting and sweating like pigs. “I love you.” He said kissing me. “I love you too.” I said. Max got up and looked at the mess we made. He glanced back at my hole which was still releasing his manly fluids along with some blood. “OH! I’M SO SORRY! DID I HURT YOU?!” he asked panicking. “Yes you did. But this is totally normal.” “But this doesn’t happen to me when you do it.” “That’s because I loosen you up first. I couldn’t fit inside of you either when we first did it.” He knobbed in agreement and told me a billion times that he felt sorry for hurting me. I told him he didn’t have to say sorry as he’s just learning how to work with his growing body. However we agreed to use a safe word to avoid hurting one another in the future. We both cleaned the kitchen and took a steamy shower to clean ourselves. Afterwards we climbed in bed and slept for the remaining hours.

All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1fWR-rfdhN_UycbGeWAlGpvy-jsMu8pgkb8-dx5GR7XM) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Chapter 9: Celestial Meteor It was half an hour later that the two gathered their supplies, and Marvelous Man flew to the location. Gene Lightfoot was in his rabbit form; cradled in Marvelous Man’s brawny arms and nestled against the bulging pectorals. During the flight over, Marvelous Man could feel Gene emitting the emotions of frustration. As Marvelous Man began his descent to a street corner across the abandoned Ridgemont subway station, he observed his surroundings. The Ridgemont subway station appeared to be located in a desolate ghetto with decaying structures and broken windows. The area itself was tucked far away at the edge of Skyway City by the decrepit factories that shut down a long time ago and no longer billowed smoke from its tall chimney stacks that could blanket the sky. As for the subway station’s entrance, it was partially bordered up on its top half. The lower half showed marks of being plied off; definitely evidence that somebody was still residing in the abandoned subway. Nearing the ground, Gene leapt from Marvelous Man’s embrace and shifted back into his humanoid form. He stood up straight and closed his eyes. His white bunny ears twitched in different directions as if he were trying to detect any sound like a sonar. Marvelous Man placed a hand on a patch that was freshly ironed onto the shoulder of his black jacket. The decorative patch was the D.A.B. logo; fonted in white and outlined in cobalt blue. While it advertised Marvelous Man’s association, it was enchanted to act as a telepathic communicator with his own teammates and anybody else able to receive the psychic signal. He projected his thoughts, “Faraiza, we got to subway station. We’re in front of it right now.” It felt weird for Marvelous Man to use his thoughts to call out to someone. Like screaming into a void, but the screamer cannot hear the sounds they emit. It was best to not think about how thoughts sound in one’s own head. Regardless of how he felt, Faraiza explained that it was the only way to use his new communicator. “Yes, I have visual of it now. Gene, do you detect anybody?” replied Faraiza. Gene paused, “...No. I do not sense the presence of anyone at all. This is most suspicious.” Marvelous Man could hear the voices of his teammates echo in his head. There was no direction of where the noise originated from. It was all around him and inside himself. He shivered at this first experience of telepathy. “Should we head inside?” he asked. Faraiza answered, “Not yet. I’m not detecting any traps, but I think you should stay put and survey the entrance. I’ll do some quick research to see if there’s another way in. If Gene’s not sensing anybody, you two could be walking in a trap. Either that or the homeless community moved before the Skeleton Lord arrived.” “Roger,” nodded Gene. Gene turned to a dilapidated building on his right and appeared to be analyzing its structure. Its door removed some time ago, and any of its windows that were not already shattered had a layers of grime filmed over it. The bunny demigod pointed, “Let us take shelter in there for now. Their windows on the second floor have a vantage point for observing the subway entrance.” “Alright,” complied Marvelous Man. The two heroes went inside the building without saying a word. From what was left of the interior, Marvelous Man surmised the structure used to be a bakery or cafe on the first floor. The second floor seemed to be an office and an apartment. As the duo wordlessly settled in front of grimy windows, Marvelous Man felt it was the best time to break the ice. There was a certain tension about Gene, but he was not sure if it was due to the mission they were currently handling. He took a cloth he found on the floor and wiped the dirty layer off of a window pane, as he carefully chose his next words. Marvelous Man hesitated, “Hey, Gene...are you okay?” “Yes, I am well. I have no physical condition that will hinder our progress,” replied Gene. Marvelous Man swallowed, “Yeah, I know. But...That’s not what I meant. Are you emotionally okay? You seem tense. Is it because of the seriousness of our mission or what the Skeleton Lord did…” The emotions in Gene’s eyes seem to withdraw for a moment before coming back. The rabbit demigod began broadcasting the emotions of uneasiness. “It...It is not what he did to me that leaves you to perceive that I am having the shaken...It is what he said,” hesitated Gene. He continued, “That...thing said that it was responsible for the death of my people. That he is the reason why my race is a multitude of tribes scattered and hidden across the earth. I had never conceived that my tribe was once united with all the other tribes, but I have also never heard of it happening before. If what he said is true, should not there be history records of this Skeleton Lord?” Marvelous Man looked out the window to keep watch over the subway entrance. He did not know that Gene was part of an actual race. But it did make sense when the Skeleton Lord kept calling Gene Lightfoot that name. It just did not occur to him until the bunny demigod brought it up. There was also something he remembered in the debriefing. “There should’ve. I mean, your people should’ve known if there was a maniac like that. But not even the magical researchers know about him. Like he never existed,” agreed Marvelous Man. Gene’s rabbit ears twitched, “Or maybe nobody wanted to remember he existed. The Skeleton Lord seemed surprised that we did not fear him or even know of his name.” The white rabbit ears on Gene’s head began to droop. Marvelous Man then felt an all too familiar emotion wash over him. Loneliness. “But my people were not just united,” said Gene, “He said we were many. We populated everywhere with the humans. And all of my ancestors had the rabbit ears. All of them. To not only be able to explore the world but also be chosen...I cannot help but envy that such a thing might have happened at one point.” “But..aren’t you doing that right now?” questioned Marvelous Man. Gene shook his head, “It is not the same. Not many know of the ways of my people, and not many have the curiosity for discovering it. You see, all of our Totochtin tribes have only one person in every generation to be blessed by our rabbit god. The choosing happens after a tournament is held to find one who is victorious over their other brothers with their own strength and skill.” “When one is chosen to receive the rabbit ears and have their potential to be unlocked, they must go on a sacred pilgrimage. They must scour a region and find other male warriors to challenge them to combat. If one is able to best our chosen, he gifts the warrior with the best sexual experience he will never find anywhere else. This is an exchange to reap the victor’s seed, so it can be used to birth a new generation for our tribe. The chosen one will continue the process until he has completed exploring the region. And thus, our tribe becomes stronger with every descendant, and the cycle begins anew,” explained Gene. Marvelous Man willed his face with all his might to not express bewilderment. With no mirror around, he was not sure if his body betrayed him or not. He wondered if being baffled was also an emotion and hoped Gene could not detect. He saw Gene give a small smile as if he knew or was aware of how his culture was perceived by outsiders. Marvelous Man cleared his throat, “So...I guess your time here in North America is limited, huh?” “Yes, but also no. I was not assigned to this region,” twitched Gene, “I am sorry, but my story will have to be shared for another time. Someone has arrived, and they are curious.” Staring out the window, Marvelous Man spotted a woman in a red female kung fu uniform with visor sunglasses over her eyes. He immediately recognized her. “Octomentist?” he said to himself. Gene glanced, “You know of her?” “I met her yesterday. We teamed up to fight the PB&J Gang,” answered Marvelous Man. Octomentist looked about as if she were searching for someone. She looked up where Marvelous Man and Gene were stationed at for a few seconds before resuming her exploration. Gene inquired, “Is she from the Arkos Division?” “Yeah, how’d you know?” said Marvelous Man. Gene replied, “Most members from a superhero company dress themselves according to the colors their companies favor. It is much like how I dress with the blue to proclaim my association with the D.A.B. Though some people do the compromise by carrying a colored accessory in relation to their employer yet wearing whatever colors they please. Just like you.” “Oh,” spoke Marvelous Man, “So should we go down there to talk to her?” Gene crossed his arms, “There is no need. I believe she has found us, because she is now amused.” His rabbit ears twitched. “She is now within the building,” said the bunny demigod. Hearing the stairs creak, Marvelous Man turned his attention to the doorway. The echo of footsteps slowly drew closer. Seconds later, Octomentist appeared in the hallway right outside of the room’s entrance. Octomentist smiled, “Hey there, Naked Justice. Didn’t think I’d see you so soon. How’s my sidekick doin?” “Umm, doin alright. What’re you doing here?” asked Marvelous Man. Octomentist answered, “Saw you passing by. Thought I’d track you down, since I didn’t have anything better to do. Saw you upstairs with my visor’s thermal vision. Though I didn’t think you’d end up here in the ghetto. Congratulations on getting picked up by the D.A.B., by the way.” Marvelous Man was confused by Octomentist’s remark. He was not sure how she already knew. A second went by until his mind finally comprehended that his communicator patch gave away a context clue. “Oh. Thanks. Uh, this is Gene. And we were trying to find a guy that’s hiding out in that abandoned subway down there,” pointed Marvelous Man. Gene cutted in, “I believe this is one of the situations that we must exercise discretion, Marvelous Man. It would not be wise to divulge any more information regarding the mission.” “It’s cool. I think I’ll just tag along anyways. Or I could just charge right down there while screaming my head off. I’m sure he won’t notice me,” grinned Octomentist. Faraiza’s voice ringed in Gene Lightfoot and Marvelous Man’s head before they could say anything. She stated, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t find any other alternate entrances inside. You’re going to have to proceed through the front. But before you go, there’s something else I need to ask of you two. I’m sending a picture to your scrolls.” “Marvelous Man could you open your scroll?” asked Gene. Marvelous Man nodded, “Sure.” Reaching into his pocket, Marvelous Man retrieved his electronic scroll and silver-rimmed visor glasses that looked exactly like the Director’s. However, the electronic scroll Faraiza gave him was completely different from Director Skye’s scroll. Instead of resembling an extravagant Torah, its features were more like an oval-shaped object. “You don’t need the glasses. This information isn’t private. Besides, it’d be good to let your third party know about this. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody about her involvement,” echoed Faraiza. After nodding and placing the glasses back into his bottomless pockets, Marvelous Man proceeded with opening his scroll. He pressed the button on the top side of his oval scroll to unlock its features with a small click. Gently pulling at its sides, the scroll’s outer shell broke apart to reveal a transparent plastic sheet. It glowed with a hushed light of blue and white. Octomentist grinned, “Oh, hey! Those are the mobile alpha prototypes the Arkos Division sent out to the other hero organizations to try out before it’s released for retail. Glad to see it being put to use.” Marvelous Man ignored Octomentist’s statement and continued. Flipping open the panels on the scroll’s sides, he pressed the buttons hidden underneath to move the scroll’s digital cursor. He then selected the messages icon and found his first new message. Opening it, he found a headshot picture of a caucasian man with messy brown hair. Marvelous Man then heard Faraiza’s voice echo in his head. “That’s Martin Whalsh. He’s supposedly the leader of that community. Try to save him first. If you do, he can really help us out for future investigations or make it easier to move the homeless somewhere else,” said Faraiza. Gene replied back telepathically, “We will do our best, Faraiza.” “Why are you guys just staring at the screen? And who’s that?” spoke Octomentist. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The three heroes stood steps away from the subway entrance. A gust of wind blew from within; moaning to forbode them from entering. The sunlight that was able to poke through the opening revealed stairs that paved downward into unknown darkness. Gene stated, “I will go forth and do the ‘inside sweep’. Faraiza and I will alert you on whether it is safe to proceed or if something is amiss.” His form began to shrink, as he shapeshifted into a snow-white rabbit. The bunny demigod’s animal shape twitched its nose for a moment before bounding into the entrance and hopping down the stairs' descend into the black abyss. “Huh, the files weren’t kidding. He really can shapeshift into a bunny,” remarked Octomentist, “By the way, it sucks that you got a Rank D. A little bit of downtime with this company, and you’ll get C Rank in no time.” “Thanks,” nodded Marvelous Man. A bloodcurdling scream ringed in Marvelous Man’s head. It sounded similar to Gene Lightfoot’s but as if he were in unimaginable pain. Faraiza’s voice interrupted the telepathic transmission. She spoke urgently, “Marvelous Man, you need to get down there! Something has traumatized Gene, but I’m not sure what!” Marvelous Man turned to Octomentist with wide eyes. “Something went wrong,” he said. Placing his hand on Octomentist’s shoulders, Marvelous Man commanded the light within him to illuminate himself and his friend. The two charged forth with Marvelous Man in the lead. As they entered, Marvelous Man punched the boarded planks on the top half of the subway’s entrance; splintering it in half and leaving enough room for the shining hero to dash through without ducking. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Faraizah guided the pair as to where Gene was located. After treading down the steps and crossing over the train tracks in the pitch blackness, they found a large clearing with blanket tents and houses made of cardboard and tin sheets built against the walls. They spotted Gene in his humanoid form; laying in the center in a fetal position. Marvelous Man shouted, “Gene!” He ran towards the fallen hero and placed a hand on his back. Marvelous Man’s light analyzed Lightfoot’s body but found no physical wounds to heal. Marvelous Man crouched down to get a better look at Gene and noticed a small puddle of vomit next to the bunny demigod. “There is so much pain here. So much horror. Fear. Despair. All of those people...gone,” murmured Gene. The bunny demigod looked up at Marvelous Man. His face was wet with tears, and his eyes were nearly clouded with catatonia. Marvelous Man could feel Gene emitting his own feelings of sorrow. He then realized if the broadcasting of Gene’s emotions were to continue, it could affect the team’s ability to fight. They were in no place to take their time to talk about their feelings. Marvelous Man needed to temporarily override the bunny demigod’s feelings and quickly asked himself what he could do. He could hit Gene with a slap or light punch. That always seemed to work in movies and anime. But that did not feel like the right approach for Marvelous Man to do, and Gene could react with even more negativity. If he were an empath like Gene, he could have injected positivity into Gene to balance him out...but he actually could do that in theory. As Marvelous Man closed his eyes and reached into his black jacket’s pocket, Octomentist walked past the two kneeling heroes. An object sparkling from Marvelous Man’s light sat on the ground by its lonesome. She scooped it up, while Marvelous Man pulled out his golden harmonica, Duskbell, and started playing it. Octomentist turned to music playing with her mouth pursed to exclaim. Her shouting came to an abrupt halt, as she saw Marvelous Man. Marvelous Man blew his golden harmonica with minstrel skill and jammed to an upbeat tempo. His light fed on the music and became supercharged. It obeyed Marvelous Man’s commands and began to extend itself. Bursting from the floor Marvelous Man was kneeling on, it enveloped Gene Lightfoot and dispersed to the rest of the ground. Upon sensing Gene’s sorrow to quell, Marvelous Man ceased the playing of Duskbell. He opened his eyes and spotted Octomentist; holding one of Gene’s silver spheres. He asked, “Where did you find that?” “Right here,” said Octomentist. She paused for a moment, as she looked about her surroundings. Octomentist hesitated, “Is that...blood?” It was Marvelous Man’s turn to observe the area. Before illuminating the area, the light shining off of him and Octomentist lit their line of sight only steps ahead in the vast darkness. This caused tunnel vision upon spotting the emotionally disturbed Gene. Now that everything around them was revealed and nothing to distract Marvelous Man, he could see everything. Blood. The dark red liquid splattered everywhere; from the walls to the makeshift homes and even the ground. It were as if a giant blood-filled balloon exploded everywhere or some sort of horror film setting. The scent of iron flooded Marvelous Man’s senses, and despair filled his stomach. With no visual contact of the homeless community, the blood, and the silver ball, a connection was made. Marvelous Man immediately placed his hand on the D.A.B. jacket patch. “Faraiza, I think we’ve been set up!” he telepathically exclaimed. Faraiza choked, “I see it. Oh my gosh...there’s so much blood. If Gene’s ball is here, then where’s the Skeleton Lord? Did he know we were tracking him?” Gene slowly began to stand up. His posture no longer exhibited that of a deterred person. The bunny demigod joined the telepathic conversation. “I am sorry, Faraiza. I sense that they are all dead,” he said. Octomentist muttered, “This is all kinds of fucked up.” A soft patter echoed in the opening behind Octomentist. However, everyone was too engrossed in the gore decor to notice. “So this is how you all survived my onslaught of the undead. The star child’s odd ocarina can enchant the field with daylight, as well as yourselves,” noted the Skeleton Lord’s voice. Octomentist turned around to face the Skeleton Lord, as she took a step away from him. The Skeleton Lord, garbed in his red cloak and the equine skull resting on his head, continued to proceed forward. Gene Lightfoot slid his hand into his utility belt’s pouch of silver spheres. The Skeleton Lord calmly spoke, “I had a feeling that silver marble had a tracking spell on it. It appears I was correct. If I were wrong, well, then I would have enough time to absorb the fleshes of this gypsy caravan. Sadly, I was only able to absorb their fear and blood. But I must admit, it became a bit messy on that last part.” The Skeleton Lord’s red cloak billowed as the insides rustled. His arms extended from the curtain with an object in its grasp. It was the decapitated head of Martin Whalsh; the leader of the subway homeless community. “And killing this fellow first made the fear flow right out of them. I assume it was because he is their chief and also because I killed him,” he said on a tangent. Octomentist leapt forward. Pivoting her waist to pronounce a stronger strike, she whips her golden arm towards the Skeleton Lord. Her golden left arm changed its shape; transforming into a golden machete. Four skeleton arms bursted from within his red cloak. Their white, bony hands caught the golden blade above the Skeleton Lord’s shoulder; right before the weapon could reach the neck. The golden machete shook from Octomentist trying to muscle through the gentle, skeletal grasps. Without even flinching from the murderous attempt, the Skeleton Lord slowly turned his attention to the blade for a moment. The Skeleton Lord changed his gaze to Octomentist, “Hm, a monk with killing intent. Or perhaps you are one of those mystic knights?” Octomentist did not answer but immediately reacted. Two of her right chrome arms placed their inner sides on top of one another. Palms flexing out, the chrome arms were tucked close to her side and aimed at the Skeleton Lord. A stream of water as powerful as a fireman’s hose jetted out of the palms. It sparkled with a layer of electricity coursing through. The electrified aqua punctured through the Skeleton Lord’s abdomen; soaking and billowing the back of his red cloak. The Skeleton Lord convulsed from the electrical currents spreading throughout his entire body. His hands lost their grip on the decapitated head and causing it to land with a soft plop. As the Skeleton Lord began to teeter towards the ground, Gene withdrew a silver ball from his pouch and threw it faster than a professional baseball pitcher. It whistled through the air, as it was aimed towards the stunned Skeleton Lord. The adrenaline pumping throughout Marvelous Man allowed time to slow down for just a moment to see the sphere about to bore into the Skeleton Lord’s hooded forehead with only a pen’s length between the two. A tendril of bone shot out from beneath the Skeleton Lord’s cloak. As it stabbed into the ground, it caused the Skeleton Lord to rocket into the air. Gene’s silver sphere completely missed piercing the Skeleton Lord’s head before the sudden velocity. The Skeleton Lord’s body hung limply high above the other heroes with the bone tendril continuing to extend and thicken from under the red cloak. Three more bone tendrils stretched out from behind the red clothing; rooting into the ceiling to stabilize the first tendril’s balance. The Skeleton Lord looked as if it were a daddy-long-leg spider that was short of four bony legs. “Lightning enchanted water? Well, that is a first,” remarked the Skeleton Lord. Grabbing his golden wreath, Marvelous Man threw his projectile. It whizzed like a buzzsaw; flying up towards the Skeleton Lord. The spider-like bone legs pulled the Skeleton Lord higher up towards the ceiling, as the golden wreath was about to reach the Skeleton Lord and saw through. Missing its target, the wreath returned to Marvelous Man, while the bone legs began to shift. The spider bone legs crawled across the ceiling with the Skeleton Lord gently swaying beneath. His bony appendages made its way to the other side of the room behind Marvelous Man and Gene. As he was lowered to the ground in front of entrance, the Skeleton Lord clapped. The Skeleton Lord cackled, “Well, go on then. Entertain me! Show me things the warriors of the past have not already done!” Surging forward, Marvelous Man bounded towards the Skeleton Lord with Gene following behind him in rabbit form. The shining hero activated his flight power and twisted himself in a counterclockwise motion. He completed two rotations before aiming a slamming right elbow at the Skeleton Lord’s face. A skeletal arm extended from underneath the Skeleton Lord’s cloak. It caught the powerful elbow without even wincing. The sudden stop of the muscular man’s deadly gymnastics cause the wind trailing with his huge body to billow the Skeleton Lord’s red cloak. As Marvelous Man was held in place, the white rabbit bounded underneath his musclebound frame. Gene arrived at the feet of the Skeleton Lord and transformed. As he shapeshifted back into his humanoid form, Gene Lightfoot rose up into the air while executing a spinning uppercut. His fist connected with the underside of the Skeleton Lord’s pale, white jaw. The brittle sound of bone popping and cracking emanated from the blow to the Skeleton Lord. As Gene continued ascending above, the Skeleton Lord’s head flung back from the blow. His body nearly recoiled, but his spider bone legs dug into the floor and walls to stabilize himself. The skeleton arm released its grasp on Marvelous Man’s elbow before immediately clasping onto the bunny demigod’s left shoulder. Three more skeletal arms lashed out from beneath the red cloak. Clamping underneath Gene’s right shoulder and legs, they held the bunny demigod steadfast in midair with the limbs pulled into a spread eagle position. The Skeleton Lord reached out with his own pale-skinned hand and groped Gene’s crotch that dangled like plump blue fruit. His jaw shifted itself back into place with the sound of bone snapping itself together. “I have to say, lust energy has far more power in it than absorbing one’s fear. Still, it is quite difficult to...milk lust energy if one is not a Totochtin. But I have learned many ways to milk fear,” smiled the Skeleton Lord. Upon his elbow being released, Marvelous Man swiveled his brawny body in midair towards the Skeleton Lord’s left side in a clockwise motion. He launched his right fist in an overhand punch upon arriving next to the villain. Another skeleton arm rose from behind the Skeleton Lord’s red cloak. It appeared to be a right appendage that began to wave in a counterclockwise motion. As the top of its wrist briefly touched the golden encased underside of Marvelous Man’s, it reflexed immediately. The skeletal hand grabbed Marvelous Man’s jewelry-covered wrist and yanked it forward. At that moment, the trajectory of Marvelous Man’s punch was now under the control of the bony hand. Marvelous Man’s fist was guided downwards in front of the Skeleton Lord’s neck. The shining hero could see his fist completely missing the molesting villain that did not bother to even look in his direction. He had no time to move away in the instance he was pulled closer to the Skeleton Lord. Two more skeleton arms thrusted out from the cloak. Both had their bony hands curled into hard fists as they aimed at different areas of Marvelous Man’s body. The first struck the right side of the hero’s face. With the skeletal hand holding onto his wrist, he could not be flung back. He had no choice but to take the brunt of the punch as it twisted into his cheek. Marvelous Man felt his vision and hearing blur at the powerful blow. Though Marvelous Man had bulletproof skin, blunt and hard attacks could still hurt him without ever having to break the epidermis. The hero himself had discovered firsthand that the fist was both of those things. At the same time, the second bony fist pounded into Marvelous Man’s right side of his torso. The aim of this strike targeted below his ribs and impacted with a twist against Marvelous Man’s kidney. Pain instantly seared throughout his body at the same moment his face got pummeled. The skeletal fist that punched the hero’s face then snaked over Marvelous Man’s muscular punching arm. It cupped Marvelous Man’s armpit and lifted with a small amount of force, while the hand holding the bracelet-covered wrist pulled it in towards the Skeleton Lord. This action locked the extended arm in place, as it caused hyperextension to counter any resistance from Marvelous Man. Were it not for the pulverizing strikes to his face and kidney, he would have screamed at feeling his arm reaching the point of breaking in his elbow. Seeing her teammates already subdued by the Skeleton Lord as Octomentist sprinted towards them, she pressed one of her right chrome hands on her chest. It began to emit a dark aura and manipulate her gravity to weightlessness. Octomentist dove forward before the antigravity took complete effect over her body. Upon complete hovering with no force to ground her, Octomentist aimed another cybernetic right arm behind her. The arm’s ability activated a burst of air pressure steaming out of her palm and increasing her flight speed. The multi-armed heroine positioned her arm to keep herself low enough to be close to the ground without any accidental contact. Octomentist maneuvered herself to zip past the Skeleton Lord on his right side while shapeshifting her golden arm into a pickaxe. The Skeleton Lord took no action to what appeared to be some sort of confused retreat, as she flew through the entrance the heroes came through. Once past, she immediately swung her golden pickaxe arm into the cemented ground; piercing into it with ease. The stem of the pickaxe began to extend itself, as it thinned from increasing length like a rubber band. The torrent of air coming from her other chrome hand ceased, and Octomentist’s flight came to a slow with her golden arm acting as an anchor. She then lifted her gravity-manipulating arm from her chest; releasing her from weightless and gently rolling onto the ground. After a few tumbles and her golden arm shifting back into its original form, Octomentist stood up with urgency. The right chrome limbs that emitted water and electricity combined once again. Octomentist quickly took aim at the Skeleton Lord’s back and fired a streaming torrent of electrified water. The charged current splashed into the cloak’s wet spot where Octomentist’s first shot could not pierce through. The stream failed to break open the Skeleton Lord’s red cloak but managed to split into smaller electrified drops when penetrating the fabric. The villain convulsed, and his body became limp. The skeletal arms that held the other heroes in undignified poses released their grasps, as the spider-like bone legs started to crawl up the ceiling with the Skeleton Lord in tow. Octomentist ceased her attack the moment she saw the Skeleton Lord move upwards. The eight-armed hero ran to Gene Lightfoot and Marvelous Man in an attempt to assist them. “How annoying,” mused the Skeleton Lord, “Would you like to know how I wringed every last drop of fear out of those gypsies?” He continued, “You never torture the old in front of the others. They already know death is coming for them. No, you start with the young. Their terror increases the others’ maternal fears by tenfold. And a whole lot of children to torture creates so much fear for me to absorb. Unfortunately, this caravan only had a baby. Well...one makes do with what they have.” As the Skeleton Lord continued to chat and cackle, Marvelous Man gave his stretched arm a few shakes before squatting down like a sumo wrestler. He placed his fists on the ground and raised his hard, round glutes high into the air. Marvelous Man slowly inhaled through his nose as he concentrated his leg muscles to soak up as much kinetic force as it could provide before liftoff. He relaxed his arms and focused the direction he would be flying towards. With his legs to provide the lift, he would straighten his arms at the last second to adjust his angle. Marvelous Man felt his chest and stomach expand to its fullest with all the air it could take and knew it was time to unleash the collected potential within his powerful calves and thunderous thighs. His thighs and biceps flexed; veins and muscular cords bulged and outlined against his skin. The cement underneath his feet cracked. With the force within his arms and legs unleashed, Marvelous Man rocketed forward; leaving behind a shallow crater indented with his own footprints and fistprints. The glowing, musclebound body shot up like a shimmering firework before its timed explosion. Marvelous Man’s aim held true, as he soared towards the Skeleton Lord. Activating his flight power, the shining hero tucked himself into a ball as tight as he could and began to vertically rotate. Marvelous Man stuck his right leg straight out, while his spinning gained more speed. Becoming a buzzsaw-like blur like his own golden wreath, Marvelous Man continued to whirl closer to the Skeleton Lord. The villain saw the spinning hero for only a second before he zipped above the Skeleton Lord between rotations. Marvelous Man’s aim and timing held true; he was right where he wanted to be . The muscular hero completed his cycle and slammed his heel into the Skeleton Lord’s back. The force of the heel drop kick jerked the Skeleton Lord downward. His spider-like bone legs could not handle the sudden direction his body went and immediately snapped off. As the Skeleton Lord fell with great velocity, Marvelous Man’s homing attack propelled himself further up. Right when Marvelous Man successfully attacked the Skeleton Lord’s back, he straightened his body and twirled himself upside down. His black boots were to the first to land on the ceiling and absorb the powerful impact resulting from his super jump and kick. The concrete top chipped and rippled with cracks that traveled to the edge of the ceiling. From the ground perspective of where Gene and Octomentist stood, it looked as if Marvelous Man had sprouted stone angel wings. Marvelous Man’s muscular body crouched against the fissured ceiling, as he spotted the Skeleton Lord plummeting into the blood-stained floor. The ground shattered underneath the villain with a plume of dust and debris flying up from the hole. With the smoke now obfuscating the Skeleton Lord’s body, Marvelous Man decided to not take any chances. His thighs flexed with visible veins on the skin; fighting against the sudden kinetic force that would have pinned him there for a few seconds. He activated his flight powers again and pushed off the concrete dome. In midair, Marvelous Man performed a forward flip to readjust himself. He clasped his knees together as tight as he possibly could and directed them down at the hole the Skeleton Lord resided in. Through the crashing descend in the smoke, Marvelous Man looked like a bright meteor entering the Earth’s atmosphere. The brawny superhero blasted into Skeleton Lord’s crater; resulting in a thunderous boom. A small gust of wind and dust brushed against the other two superhero spectators as more smoke rose into the air. Seconds past after pebble-sized cement pieces finished scattering into the air and clattered back onto the floor. There was no sign of movement from the man-made hole. “Marvelous Man?” called Gene. Faraiza’s voice echoed in Lightfoot’s head, “He’s alright, Gene. I can see him slowly getting up, but he’s a bit too shaky to keep himself steady.” “Much gratitude, Faraiza,” said Gene. The bunny demigod ran to the deep crater that was beginning to clear of smoky debris. He spotted Marvelous Man struggling to stand as his legs were wobbling like a newborn deer. Gene held his hand out, “Here, let me aid you.” “Thanks. I landed really hard on my legs. I’m kinda surprised they’re not broken” coughed Marvelous Man. Accepting the assistance, the white-eared hero pulled Marvelous Man out of the hole. Gene could see Marvelous Man was still having trouble standing up, as Marvelous Man’s bulging legs were still shaking. The bunny demigod scooped up his D.A.B. partner with gentle ease and held him in a bridal carry fashion. He carried his partner back to Octomentist without any trouble. Marvelous Man’s body weight was no match for Gene’s super strength. “Gotta say, that was a sick move you pulled there, Naked Justice,” remarked Octomentist Hey, wait! Can’t you fly?” Marvelous Man’s eyes widened, “Oh...right. Sorry, brain is a bit mushy from all that G-force.” Faraiza’s voice interrupted Gene and Marvelous Man’s thoughts. “I’m sorry for breaking up the good feelings and all, but just what were you all fighting? I couldn’t see the voice that was talking to you, and I have a visual of everything in this room. Something was damaging this room, but it was completely invisible to me,” she said. Gene projected his thoughts his D.A.B. teammates, “The emotions and aura of the Skeleton Lord are invisible to me as well. I fear this person has the ability or magic to mask his presence. Only the naked eye can perceive the Skeleton Lord.” The white rabbit ears on Gene’s head twitched. He turned his attention back to the Skeleton Lord’s hole while carrying Marvelous Man. “What’s wrong?” Marvelous Man asked aloud. Gene frowned, “If I were to give the guess, I would surmise that the Skeleton Lord is putting himself back together again.” “Oh my fucking gosh, when will this Humpty Dumpty son of a bitch stay broken?!” exclaimed Octomentist. The sound of bones shifting and cracking into place emanated from the small pit. It was a soft echo that began to increase in volume, as a shambling silhouette rose from the hole. Though dusty, it was undoubtedly the red robe of the Skeleton Lord with the hood being distended by the equine skull headgear. “Cursed wretch,” spoke the Skeleton Lord, “To arms, my guardians!” With his bone structure reformed, the villain stood straight up. Eight skeleton arms stretched from the red cloak; brandished with a weapon in each hand. The top two hands held a bow and arrow. The pair underneath the long-range weapon was a circular war shield welded with bumps and intricate designs, and a sword with a hook-shaped blade that Marvelous Man recognized as a scythe sword. Below the sword and shield wielders were short-handed axes, etched with runes, held in each hand. The last set of hands held a glaive polearm; its black blade decorated with silver white bell-shaped heather flowers that formed into a hook on the blade’s back. Marvelous Man activated his flight power and floated from Gene’s arms. He positioned himself standing straight and gave his legs a shake while hovering. While his legs felt like useless limbs filled with pins and needles, the rest of body felt twitchy and unstable. He would need a few minutes to recover and be at full strength after pushing his body to the limit twice with no intervals between those wall-cracking bursts. But Marvelous Man knew he had no time for breaks before round two with the Skeleton Lord began. “My body is too noodley to hit him hard like that again,” he frowned. Gene nodded, “That is fine. I request that you stay in the air. I will need your assistance with the air support. Please catch me and throw me back at the Skeleton Lord. The use of your wreath will also be appreciated. I will lead the attack. Octomentist, if you please, try to counter his attacks, to create the opportunity for me.” The bunny demigod pulled his right arm over his chest to stretch his shoulder muscle before switching to the other arm. He continued stretching his muscles as the other hero spoke to him. “Alright. But I’m out of water, so I can’t do the electrified water attack that’s been stunning him. And I’m running low on electricity with my Lightning Arm,” nodded Octomentist. Gene gently smiled, “We will manage with what we have. Marvelous Man, please begin the first attack.” Obeying Gene’s command, Marvelous Man threw his golden wreath at the Skeleton Lord. The bunny demigod dashed forward upon seeing the projectile with Octomentist and Marvelous Man following his lead. Gene placed a hand in the silver ball pouch on his utility belt. A rune glowed on his blue fingerless glove, as he swirled his index and middle finger within the pouch. The silver balls within the blue pouch reacted to Gene’s finger motions and the glowing rune. Right when a sphere was plucked by Gene’s fingers, another ball shapeshifted into a long, silver cord and linked itself to the chosen weapon. The cord then connected to two other orbs to form a bolas projectile. Gene pulled out the silver bolas from his pouch and began rotating the other two weights over his head. The bunny demigod kept his eyes targeted at the skeleton arms equipped with the bow and arrow. The archer arms had the arrow nocked on the white bowstring and its obsidian arrowhead aimed at Gene. As the arrow was being drawn back, Gene released his silver bolas. The projectile spun through the air and shimmered from Marvelous Man imbuing the ground with light. Accompanying in front of the silver bolas was Marvelous Man’s golden wreath; flying at a much lower angle that could decapitate the Skeleton Lord. The shield-wielding skeleton hand lowered its equipment in front of the Skeleton Lord’s face to block the incoming attacks. The golden wreath that aimed for the villain’s neck bounced off the shield and changed its course; boomeranging back to Marvelous Man. The shield ignored the silver bolas, as its trajectory would miss any harming intent towards the Skeleton Lord. Slinging over the shield, the bolas’ silver cords caught itself on the skeletal forearms of the archer arms. The spherical weights of the bolas wrapped around the forearms; tightening and tangling the cords to prevent any easy escape. The gap between the arm holding the bow and the other drawing the arrow was slammed shut. Smoke started to emanate from the binded bones as the arms exposed to the silver bubbled and sizzled. Gene dug his hand back into his silver sphere pouch and grasped a handful. With an underhand throw, the balls spread in different directions within a cone arc at the Skeleton Lord. The shield wielder held its ground; propped in front of the Skeleton Lord’s face. As for the other skeleton limbs that were not bound, they seemed to understand the poisonous touch of Gene’s silver and withdrew inside the villain’s red cloak. The silver balls pelted against the shield and cloak with the force of a shotgun blast. While the ones that pummeled against the cloak and rolled away after dealing internal damage, the rest that bombarded the shield lodged into it with large impact dents. As the distance between the charging Gene and the defending Skeleton Lord thinned for close combat, the bunny demigod lept. He planted his hands atop the dented shield’s rim and pulled himself up. Using it as gymnastic beam to leapfrog over, he split his legs open. Gene hoisted himself into the air with his spandex-covered crotch dangling in the wind. With quick reaction, the bunny demigod threw his arms up while sailing over the Skeleton Lord. Marvelous Man flew to Gene’s aid. Catching his partner’s hands, Marvelous Man carried him over to the other side of the room. The musclebound hero twirled upon approaching the wall. Halfway into his rotation, Marvelous Man’s bulky body graced his direction and tossed Gene in an underhanded motion. Gene’s nimble body gained brief altitude before gravity began pulling him down towards the Skeleton Lord. The villain turned to face Gene, as the rabbit hero notice movement billowing underneath the Skeleton Lord’s red cloak. A tip of a black blade peaked out from the robe. Seeing the ornamental glaive being speared towards him, Gene Lightfoot grinned. He shapeshifted into a snow-white rabbit right when the glaive was only a second away from impaling him. The black blade of the polearm completely missed Gene, as he gracefully landed on top of the blade’s flower bell-shaped hook. Continuing his motion, rabbit Gene hopped down to the pole part of the weapon. The white rabbit transformed back into Gene’s humanoid form. As his body landed on the pole, he hooked an arm and leg of his around it. The bunny demigod contorted his body; twisting down the glaive’s staff with the grace of a professional pole dancer. While completing his first revolution around the pole, Gene kicked underneath the shield. The defense-wielding arm flung back from the powerful attack; leaving the Skeleton Lord’s head unguarded. Upon Gene’s second revolution, he gripped the staff with both his hands and flung his legs open in a wide barrage. Both of his blue boots concussed the side of the Skeleton Lord’s head; causing the villain to become momentarily dizzy. As for the third revolution, Gene turned his body inwards towards the pole. He tucked in his legs before immediately ejecting them out and thrusting it into the Skeleton Lord’s solar plexus. The sudden propulsion inflicted upon the villain cause the skeletal hands to lose their grip on the glaive. A soft crack emanated from the binded skeleton archer hands. The shaking from the Skeleton Lord caused the weakened archer hands to snap at the point where the silver bolas tied and dissolved them. The Skeleton Lord stumbled back, while Gene landed on his feet with the decorative glaive in his hands. Four skeleton legs stretched beneath the villain’s robe; lifting their master to prevent his fall. Balance restored, the Skeleton Lord cursed. “Cursed wretch,” he muttered. Gene spear-chucked the glaive at the Skeleton Lord. As it sailed through the air, its staff end began to dissipate into black smoke. The shield wielder intervened and swatted at the glaive with its dented shield. The polearm weapon spun into the air, as it completely evaporated into black soot. The Skeleton Lord’s red cloak fluttered, as the pair of skeletal hands armed with short-handed axes presented themselves again. The two skeleton hands clanged their axes together as if signaling their own war cry. As the blades reverberated against each other, the runes etched on the handles began to glow a soft blue light. Electricity emanated from the runes and wildly coursed through the axes; zapping multiple, short bursts in every direction like a plasma lamp with lightning. The quadruped skeleton legs charged; pairing with each other to form their own synchronized left and right legs. As the Skeleton Lord stampeded towards the heroes, the axe-wielding hands twirled their weapons. With Gene in chopping distance, the left bony hand swung its axe in an overhand motion. The electricity from the axe crackled the air as it drew closer to Gene’s neck. Octomentist stepped in front of her teammate. She lifted one of her right chrome arms; her wrist limped and relaxed. The top of her chrome wrist made contact with the underside of the attacking skeletal arm’s wrist. All of the wild lightning that raged from the axe now harmlessly coursed into her Lightning Arm. At the same time, one of Octomentists left chrome arms vibrated with ferocity as she swung it upward in a karate chopping motion. The attacking arm sawed through the skeletal forearm without any resistance. Octomentist twisted her body; her back facing the Skeleton Lord. She reached out with her Lightning Arm in a preemptive attempt to intercept the other axe-wielding arm. As predicted, the other skeleton arm swung its electrified axe at her. Octomentist’s Lightning Arm caught the attacker by the wrist and absorbed the electricity sprouting from the axe. Her feet slid about to reposition herself to face her attacker, while the hand of her Lightning Arm briefly relinquished their grip to snake underneath the bony wrist. After completing its slide underneath the skeletal wrist, the chrome hand reestablished their grip on the other side of the wrist. Octomentist yanked the axe-wielding arm, as her vibrating, left chrome arm thrusted forward in a palm strike. The skeleton arm shattered into bits from the vibrating attack. “Kyaa!” exclaimed Octomentist, “Thanks for the recharge!” The shield-wielding hand’s partner, the scythe sword, thrusted up from the red cloak as though it was proclaiming its reappearance. In the same moment of striking itself in the air, the bony hand brought down its scythe sword with slicing intent. Sliding her left leg back, Octomentist brought her gravity-negating arm up to block the the scythe sword’s blade. Her hand limply hanged, as the arm itself instantly generated its dark aura. The scythe sword descended upon the chrome arm. At the point of contact with the arm’s dark aura, the blade silently bounced. The sword never got past the anti-gravity field to clang with the arm. Instead, it reacted like magnets with identical charges. The skeletal arm of the scythe sword flung back with its weapon as if it were hit with a whiplashing force. With her defense successful, Octomentist twirled away from the Skeleton Lord. At the same time, a whirring noise echoed. While the scythe sword wielder struggled to regain control of itself, Marvelous Man’s golden wreath approached from behind the skeleton arm. It sliced through with no effort; the action similar to a saw blade cutting through cheap wood. The scythe sword and the skeletal hand wielding it clattered onto the concrete floor. The wreath curved around the shield wielder, as it made its return back to Marvelous Man floating unnoticingly in the background. Among the confrontation with Gene Lightfoot and Octomentist, the Skeleton Lord and his guardians took no notice of Marvelous Man’s whereabouts. The Skeleton Lord literally disarmed of offensive weaponry, Gene lunged forward and grabbed the villain’s red cloak. The bunny demigod lifted the cloaked man and pivoted his waist. The cloak itself seemed to be bonded to the Skeleton Lord, as the evil man was yanked into Gene’s twisting vortex. Gene’s body rotated with the red robe billowing. Upon completing his three-sixty spin, the rabbit hero threw the Skeleton Lord across the room with all his might. The super strength from Gene caused the Skeleton Lord to fly too fast for him to be able to process a counter maneuver. In the one second of flight before colliding into the wall, the Skeleton Lord looked like a badminton birdie. The Skeleton Lord impacted against the wall with a thunderous slam. Though the concrete wall cracked with bits flying off, its layers were deep enough to handle the shock rather than be instantaneously obliterated. The Skeleton Lord was in a huddled mass devoid of humanoid shapes within the wall’s newly created shallow crater. All four of the skeleton legs and the shield wielder that were attached to the Skeleton Lord now crumbled from all the force. Gene’s bunny ears twitched, “Impossible...” Bones cracking and snapping together and flesh squelching resounded from the Skeleton Lord’s prolapsed body within the red cloak. The cloak undulated with its contents poking and prodding the fabric, before the cloak fell from its crater from all the movement. It landed on the ground with a stifled splat. Black ooze leaked onto the glowing floor until it sizzled and immediately evaporated seconds after contact with the light. “What the hell is keeping him alive?” said Octomentist. The sound of cracking and squelching continued, as the robe slowly rose up. Shape within was rapidly taking form of something more humanoid. The heroes could only gape in horror at how undead this monster truly was. Marvelous Man knew he had to move, but he felt paralyzed at watching the abhorrent display. The nauseating sounds finally ceased as the Skeleton Lord’s form was now restored. Marvelous Man flew back to Gene’s position; hovering next to his partner. “Totochtin. Star child. Heroes. At first, I thought of you as a fun distraction,” spoke the Skeleton Lord, “But I now see that much has changed since I have been sealed.” A wail of an unknown beast emanated from the Skeleton Lord’s entrance next to the villain. Heavy thumpings can be heard; increasing in volume as it drew closer to the entry way the Skeleton Lord used. The Skeleton Lord resumed, “Ah, it appears my creation is nearly complete. I made this amalgam when I realized my absorption of the gypsy caravan’s flesh was to be interrupted. The process of formation would be slow, so my whole intention was to distract you. But allow me to dispose some wisdom for you three. You should mind the gas it belches. It is quite toxic.” The Skeleton Lord turned to his entrance. He paused for a moment. “When we meet again, Totochtin, I will ask you a very important question. One that can save your race should your reply be yes or doom their fate to be with the rest of the lower beings I will extinguish,” he said. Marvelous Man shouted, “Wait! Why are you doing all this? What’s the point of doing all these terrible things?!” The Skeleton Lord stood there silently. His form ebbed away to invisibility in seconds. The Skeleton’s voice echoed the clearing with an emotionless tone: “When one has the power of a god and their purpose has turned to ash, the only thing one can do is burn the world itself.” Next Chapter