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Chapter One "You really do like tinkering with that machine of yours don't you? What does it do now? Turn people into the smartest men alive? Turn them into the dumbest jocks in existence?" As James chuckled he smiled and said "Actually, you could say all of the above!" and with that placed an arm around Larry's shoulder and took him to their bedroom where he reached under the bed and took out a laptop. "I guess it all started back in the 1970's for me" smiled James and with that mused for a moment, "Amazing" he said, "here we are, 2035, I'm in my fifties, you are now in your eighties and yet we look like brothers" and with that carried on with his explanation. "One of the bugbears of school life for me was my health. I was always catching things. Colds, flu, you name it I got it! Back in 1974, I caught a real doozy of an infection, laid me up in bed for the best part of four weeks, but on the plus side I did have a small television by my bed and one day, I caught this" and with that clicked the play button on the online video sharing site and asked "Recognise this?" "Is that??? No, it can't be? Buck Rogers, the Republic serial from the 1930's? Goodness, I remember watching that when I was a child!" "It certainly is and to be honest I didn't think much of it, I mean, call those rockets. However, a few moments later that opinion changed completely!" "When I saw that the first time, do you know what I did?" Larry shook his head. "I came!" replied James, "to see a man's mind wiped, just like that, it stimulated me for the first ever time and from that moment I was hooked. When the Daredevil comic had him having his brain emptied a few weeks later, I came again" "From then on I couldn't get enough, everytime the words brain drain or mind transfer were mentioned in a comic strip or on a television show I would just come. Be it Mighty Mouse in the 1980's, the Turtles in the 1990's, even Stargate SG-1 in the millennium. I couldn't help myself" "So" chuckled Larry, "I'm not the only one with a fetish then!" "True" replied James, "but in the last few years they have actually tried to make it work, all theory of course, but I took their work and applied it to my machine and I think...I think...I think I have done it. I think I have made a working mind transfer machine!" and with that he moaned as a damp patch appeared on his pants. As he recovered he added "and I want you and Francois to be my test subjects!" "Me?" exclaimed Larry, "have my mind residing inside Francois's bulging muscular body?" "No" chuckled James, "your mind residing inside Henri's bulging muscular body. I want Francois to know what being a Titan really meant and what better way then to send his mind back in time to Porthos's body and Porthos's mind into Francois's body. Of course, he'll need someone there to help him and who knows more about the Musketeers than you?" "You just want to worship Henri, don't you?" smiled Larry "Am I that easy to read?" chuckled James as he e-mailed Francois with "a unique offer to live your ancestor's life in the flesh, and I do mean, flesh!"

Part One "Yeah, come on, coach, you've got this in the bag!" James was not the only one cheering at the small, but powerfully built men on stage in the over 60's class of his local bodybuilding contest, but he was certainly the loudest, and with good reason. His coach, Larry, was almost certain to win his fifth regional title in as many years and as he finished off his routine with a most muscular that defied his size, he smiled, bowed to the audience and strode off back stage where his student picked him up and grunted "You may only be ten stone, but this is how much I want to congratulate you!" As he placed Larry on the ground a few seconds later, Larry just smiled and said "Remember, this time last year you couldn't even pick me up, but I thank you. It's nice to get some positive feedback from a student" and with that they went off to prepare Larry for the presentation. Larry and James really couldn't have been more different if they tried. Larry was 69 years old, had been training since his 14th birthday and although only standing 5ft 2 tall and weighing 138lbs, his 38½ inch chest, 33½ inch waist, 13 inch biceps, 21 inch quads and 14½ inch calves looked hewn from granite. James, on the other hand, was not only ten inches taller, but worlds apart. He weighed 220lbs, but with a 46 inch chest, 45 in waist, 13 inch biceps, 23 inch quads and 14½ inch calves, it was obvious that he had a long way to go to match his coach, but that did not dampen his enthusiasm for his coach and what he lacked in muscle, he more than made up for in cleverness. Indeed, it was his idea to create a social media account for his coach's bodybuilding exploits, accounts which were regularly shared by the stars of bodybuilding although James made quite sure that everyone realised that Larry's muscle development was following the "PHS method" of training which Larry explained as the "Porthos, Hercules and Samson" method of training until he couldn't do anymore and without any drugs whatsoever. That evening as the two drove home, James nursing the trophy like a baby, he looked at it and said "Larry, did you really mean what you said last year when I joined your gym. That in the space of three years I could win one of these myself!" Larry chuckled "Of course I did, I mean look at your progress. Your bench, squat and deadlift have increased exponentially from nothing to 104lbs, 94lbs and 84lbs respectively, you can pick me up for at least thirty seconds when you couldn't managed it before, and might I note that you've become more confident as well" and with that smiled at him. "Yes" smiled James, "my naked posing sessions after we train" and with that added, "I can't help myself, I say. After I train I feel, well, like, like the biggest and strongest man in the world, I want to rip off my posing suit and flex, flex, flex" "Tell you what then" smiled Larry, "special treat this evening. Before I tuck into my post contest ice cream, we'll pose down together, naked, and you can show me what poses I should do for my next guest posing session next weekend, Deal?" "Deal!" nodded James, frantically.

(Note, like a lot of my stories, the people in this are based on real people, at least in the beginning. I adjusting names and certain details to make the story more interesting, but I need to give credit where it is due. Let me know what you all think) Stewart and Henry were a married couple. Fortunately for me, their relationship was open, and they enjoyed inviting other guys to play with them. I was only an Italian-American college grad 20 something, kinda lanky, curly-haired and gangly, but 6'2" tall. While I'd been fascinated by twinks in high school and athletes in college, something about the settled, strong, somewhat chubby bodies and easy demeanor of Stewart and Henry drew me. Stewart was Irish-Scottish-American, and worked in some sort of number crunching company. He had bright, twinkling hazel eyes and buzzed hair and a round baby face with a boyish grin and stubble on his lips and chin. He was only about 5'7" tall, but he had a 7 inch long, thin dick that loved attention. His body was also nicely hairy all over, but his fair skin was marred by eczema, and though he said it was about the best it had ever been, he really loved it when I massaged him with the lotion to sooth his discomfort. I admit I was initially surprised, but once he explained the condition and I saw how much he loved being touched I thought of him as a lovable teddy bear, and several times I drove over to their townhouse just to massage him while he watched TV. Stewart's hairy body was fun to touch and play with, and he was very sensual. After a lifetime of being unable to touch anyone for fear of being seen as too gay, I loved caressing him. Stewart was also the more openly horny and the one who was more talkative, and it was he who initially invited me over when we were chatting on Adam4Adam. He liked trashy tv shows and dramas, and he also liked me. Henry was Cambodian-American, and worked as a manager for a mental health company. He had taken his husband's last name, and I was a bit in awe of him. He stood a bit taller than his husband at 5'11" and his body, though soft and smooth, was somewhat stronger from helping the orderlies care for patients. His dark brown eyes seemed to look deep, and he didn't talk much, but he would chat with me on facebook when his busy schedule allowed, and he was always polite and gentle. His skin was a rich bronze, and mostly smooth, except around his loins. His hair was longer than his husband, but only enough to flop neatly on his head, though he sometimes buzzed the sides and back. His dick was thicker than Stewart's, and its shape was sexier, too. Where Stewart got off quickly, Henry liked to take his time with me, both of us cuddling and caressing each other, stroking and sucking and and holding each other as we came, and then cuddling and making out afterwards. Sometimes, while Stewart would get off early and go clean up, Henry and I would spend longer and longer periods in bed, making out and exploring each other's bodies. I admit, if I found Stewart cute and playful and fun to take care of, I yearned for time spent with Henry. He was usually busy, though, and so I became more a friend to Stewart than a friend with benefits to both of them. One evening, though, Henry was working on something while Stewart and I reclined on the couch with his lotion, and while burly Cambodian was usually silent when he had a project, tonight he seemed especially focused on his laptop and some odd device, which looked like a combination of a tablet and a stereo and a whisk. "What's going on," I asked in a whisper to Stewart, who shrugged, and murmured back, "Some sort of mental health psychosomatic reinforcement subliminal message projector thing... there've been a few rowdy patients at Henry's job lately, and he's been trying to invent something to help them make breakthroughs, lower addiction symptoms, etc... doesn't seem to be working too well, if his temper is any indication. Poor guy has been beating himself up over trying to make it work, but I think his coworkers have written it off as a lost cause already. But the good news is he's made some progress on other stuff. He found a new experimental skin cream for me... it's supposed to work wonders... want to try it out?" I smiled. Stewart is cute when he wants something, though his condition can't be comfortable. "Sure thing... but let me wash my hands first... maybe make your husband take a break and start you on it," I reply as I get up, go to the restroom, and, out of habit, close and lock the door. It's not that I'd mind if either of them barged in on me if I was doing things far more private than washing hands, but it's just one of my quirks. Through the door, I heard the following: "Henry, hon, could you at least get me started before Mikey gets back?" "Ugh... I'll need to wash my hands afterwards if I'm going to be working on this piece of junk, but yeah, I could use a break, babe. I swear it is picking up kinky porn channels or something instead of projecting anything. If I could just find the right medium, I'm sure it'd work. Even now it is just loading." "You'll get it right eventually, hon." "Thanks babe. Oof... this jar is sealed tight." "C'mon, big guy, you're really strong... you can open it." "Grrr... I'll show you strong, sexy... finally!" I heard Stewart's mild, teasing applause, then, a moment later, "Ooo... thanks... that feels good, hon." "Yeah, it is nice and smooth... kinda tingly, though, mayb-" Henry was interrupted by a sudden electronic hum, which continued for several minutes. I was a little unnerved by their sudden silence, turned the sink off, and called out, "Guys, you ok?" In unison, both Stewart and Henry nearly moaned, "We ok," their voices sounding strangely flat over the continuing mechanical buzz. I finished drying my hands, opened the door and stood there in shock. Stewart and Henry were frozen in place, the new skin cream smeared over Henry's hands and Stewart's belly. But the skin cream was glowing with a strange golden light, and both men's expressions were blank. It was like they were awaiting something. At the same time, the device Henry had been working on was vibrating, the whisk-part shaking as electric arcs danced between the metal frame. I went over to examine the screen and saw the following message: Medium for personality and physiology alteration found. Connection made... suggestion waves interfacing with subject(s) physiology. Subject 2 has dermal errors... Medium can make repairs with heightened stimulation. Authorize? Y/N? I thought for a moment. Should I do this? Would it really help Stewart's skin? What if it made things worse? How long would this effect last? I took a deep breath, and typed "Y" The device flashed, and the gel flowed over Stewart, coating him entirely. I rushed over to try and pull it off his face, but in a moment, it seemed to have sunk into his skin, save for a few globs in the jar and on Henry's hands. But Stewart started to moan and lean back out of his husband's touch, running his hands over his body and writhing in what looked like pleasure on the couch. "Yeah... oh baby, yeah, yeah, I've never felt this good... fuck yeah!" he cried out. He opened his eyes and locked them with mine. "Mikey, fuck me, please fuck me, I need to get fucked! Fffffuck!" he growled out and yanked off his shirt, exposing his shoulders. I thought for a brief moment that he had snapped out of his earlier trance, but his eyes, though heavy lidded and sex-driven, were still unfocused. I noticed, though, that his skin seemed slightly more clear than before. I made up my mind. "Ok Stewart, I'll fuck you... pants off," I command, pulling off my clothes as I spoke. Something about Stewart seemed stronger, more alluring. No more the cute, sympathetic pup, now, physically tearing his pants and briefs off his legs and revealing a surprising bulge, long and slim and hardening. His neck and arms and chest all seemed thicker, more fire plug powerful, but he also seemed an inch taller. "Fuck yeah, Mikey! Only it's Stu, fuck, not Stewart. Stewart's a dweeb's name, and I'm... fuck... I'm all man." He really was changing before my eyes. His neck was thicker, and his biceps were flexing as he growled and cursed. I was surprised to see a tribal tattoo forming on his arms and shoulders, and his hair seemed to be reshaping into a military high and tight. His facial stubble was thickening. As I positioned myself, I noticed that Henry was still frozen in place, his eyes locked on the empty air where Stewart... Stu... had been when they first froze. But his pants are noticeably bulging, as if he can sense what is going on and can't help but be aroused. I took a deep breath, and slid into... Stu's hole. He felt tight, and he was flexing, his bulky body showing hard muscle underneath a daddylike meat. His cock flopped onto his gut, which was starting to show roid-abs, and he moaned loud and long, his voice deeper as his chest and neck muscles started to swell. His sweat smelled muskier, deeper somehow. I was finding myself lost in his body, seeing how responsive he was to each thrust of my dick. Then I noticed that he was actually getting a bit taller with each thrust. Where Stewart's rash had been, Stu only had flushed skin from the lust he was experiencing. His eyes were rolling back in his head, and nothing but profanity spilled from his now bearded lips as a newborn daddy hunk who lay on the couch beneath me. Eventually, I heard the device beep, and it seemed to trigger Stu's responses. He roared out, "Oh fuck... oh goddamn fucking FUCCCCKKKKKK!" Cum splattered from his dick and across his bulky, hairy chest muscles, and he seemed to pass out in a sexually satisfied stupor. I pulled out, but he didn't seem to notice, just began to snore. I noticed that his cum was soaking into his skin just like the lotion had, though. I went over to the device to see what it had to say about the situation, and saw the following message displayed: Medium for Personality and Physical Alteration suitable. Subject 2 responded extremely well. Save (rename) - Subject 2: __________ I began to type "Stu" into the blank, but autocorrect finished for me and saved him as "Stud." Searching databases... "Stud" qualities applied. Details downloaded from 34,768 pornographic films (see list). Increasing sex drive. Lowering inhibitions. Seeking open relationships or opportunities to spread genetic material. Intelligence shifting from academic to physical and socially and sexually driven. Subject 2 saved as "Stud." "Oh geez... I hope that doesn't make things worse." I mumble to myself, before the device beeped again. I looked to the screen and saw a new message. Medium for personality and physical alteration insufficient. Please apply greater quantities of the medium to Subject 1's epidermis. Failure to do so promptly could result in brain damage from extended halted mental operations. I looked at Henry, and saw that drool was starting to spill from his lips. "Oh geez oh geez oh geez," I yelped as I grabbed some dishwashing gloves from the sink to avoid getting any of the stuff on me, and yanked open Henry's button down shirt to expose as much of his golden skin as possible. I took the jar from his hand and began slathering the lotion onto his body, watching as it glowed brilliantly under the stimulation of the device's signals. When I'd practically emptied the container, I dropped, it, pulled off the gloves so they landed on Henry's bare feet, and returned to the device, where I was relieved to see a new message waiting for me. Medium for personality and physical alteration found. Connection made... suggestion waves interfacing with subject(s) physiology. Subject 1 experienced mild brain damage. Repairs must be made to allow continued functioning. Authorize? Y/N? Without hesitation I pressed Y. I wanted Henry safe and whole. The device flashed again, and the gel coated all of Henry's body, remaining for longer than it had on Stewart before sinking into the bronzed Cambodian skin. Henry showed signs of life, animating and moaning low and loud. Unlike his husband, he didn't say any words... in fact, it seemed like he was acting far more primal and animalistic than Stewart had. He began to growl, deep in his throat and belly, and flex his muscles... which were beginning to pump and swell, making his remaining clothes look that much tighter. Veins seemed to swell in his neck and torso, as if pumping with the gel. His gut seemed to be pushing towards me, but "roid gut" abs were forming on its expanse as well. Henry's shoulders seemed to be getting broader, and his breathing was louder as the changes swept through his body (and presumably his mind). His neck was getting thicker, more bull-like, and I heard his spine crack as he began to get taller. Soon, he was approaching my height! Henry's clothes seemed smaller and smaller, but he took a step towards me, reaching out with hands that spasmed as a response to his arm muscles starting to grow. I felt those twitching, throbbing hands grab me... and push me aside! Instead of doing anything with me, like Stewart... or Stu, or Stud, I suppose... had, Henry went straight for his husband's passed out form on the couch. He bent his knees and flexed with a grunt, and began to flex more seriously. Shockingly, his muscles seemed to bulge and pump and swell even more! In a moment, his shirt had torn off his broad, veiny shoulders, revealing a body that had grown into the muscle, massive gut bulging under pillow-sized pecs capped with erect nipples. As his body continued to flex and expand, soon his pants too started to tear off... and perhaps in preparation for my visit, he hadn't been wearing underwear underneath. His cock, now a solid, massive monster, thick and vein-covered, flew up and smacked his belly as the tattered remnants of his old life fell to the floor. Even his socks ripped off his now bigger bare feet. The newly naked beast of a man wasted no time, leaning forward to bury his face and tongue between the cheeks of his husband's new hairy, unblemished muscle butt. I could hear loud slurping sounds as Henry... or the man who'd been Henry... began to rim Stu's stud ass with long strokes of his tongue. Stu began to moan and wake up. With a string of dialogue that I was starting to recognize from certain porn movies, Stu left no doubt about that. "Oh fuck, hon, you're so big! Look at those muscles... yeah, eat out that tight ass. Our little friend didn't fill me near enough. I need your big meat. Give it to me, hon... give me that. Huge. Fucking. Dick!" Henry complied. It was really hot to watch his body move, his head rising from his partner's hole, his hard dick, now almost as thick and long as my forearm, dripping precum as he lined it up, then placed his big hands on his husband's hairy shoulders and thrust inside the smaller man. The couch, a well-weighted thing that had withstood a lot, actually moved with the force, and Stu's language turned, if possible, even more profane. There was no effort to make sense, just variations on the theme of fucking in between gasps of breath with each thrust Henry made. Until Stu did something that changed things... he renamed Henry: "C'mon, Hank, stop holding back and pound me! FUCK!" Henry... or, I suppose, Hank, now... froze, despite Stu's extremely vocal complaints. "H-hank..." he moaned, his voice rough. "I-I'm H-Hank..." "Yeah, you are, HUNK, now fucking fucking FUCK ME!" yelled Stu. He probably shouldn't have said that. Henry's face seemed conflicted. "Hank... Hunk... Hank... Hunk... Hank... Hunk." As Stu continued to scream profanities, I moved forward, stood on tiptoe (for Henry had inched taller over the last minute or so), and murmured in his ear. "Some people call you Henry or Hank... or even Hunk." Henry's huge, muscular body stilled at my words. "I call you beautiful and powerful and genius and brilliant and sexy and the greatest man I know." Henry's body was shaking as his mind tried to accomodate all the changes it was undergoing at the words I spoke. "You're... Stu's... husband. A hard worker. Really gentle and strong and understanding at the same time. I wish I could call you mine." The world seemed to stop. Was I really going to do this? If I said the right thing, I could claim this mountain of a man for myself, maybe more deeply than anyone else ever would. But... if he didn't choose me, then his only interest in me would be flat and mechanical, right? It wouldn't be real. Henry deserved better than that. Hank deserved better than that. I deserved better than that. I thought for a minute to choose my words carefully, my mind made up, as I blocked out Stu's grumbles, I took a deep breath. "... but you're your own man." He seemed to shudder and sigh, and a smile moved across his lips as he nodded, seeming more at peace. Then, he abruptly returned to fucking his husband like it was the only thing that mattered. Henry... Hank... picked up Stu and started fucking him in mid-air, smooth lips against bearded ones. The harder and faster Hank thrust into his love, the more weight seemed to melt off him. Hank went from bulky to more powerfully built, with greater and greater definition. Cut muscles were revealed across his back and torso, and his ass showed incredible striation as his hips sped up. Sweat gleamed over his body as his huge biceps and powerful legs flexed, and, still sucking face, both men came. I could hear Stu cussing against his husband's kiss, though the words were muffled, and Hank's whole body just shuddered as they coated each other in their seed... which also seemed to melt into their flesh almost immediately. Both men then sank to the ground, wrapped in each other's embrace and drifted off to sleep again. I went over to the device, and found that it had overheated and died, its internal circuits fried sometime during the events of the evening, leaving it as a useless molten piece of junk. The lotion container that Stewart had needed was likewise entirely empty. I tried to clean up, but the guys wouldn't be moved from their spot on the carpet, so I settled in on the couch to be there for them when they woke up. Everything's different now. Stu and Hank (or Stud and Hunk, as they sometimes refer to themselves) have a voracious sexual appetite now, especially for each other. They're the only ones they can really cut loose with, since they are so much stronger and more durable than other men. That hasn't stopped them from pursuing careers as rising stars in the porn world. The public loves Stu's rough and tumble Daddy Bear style, and he's taken to the leather world as well. Meanwhile, at 7'3," Hank is one of the tallest, most powerfully built men out there, and he's seen as the strong, stoic type. Their old minds and memories are hazy at best, and Hank especially seems to be a completely new man. Their sex drives are through the roof, though, and they seem ready to try new things, so they've moved across the country to settle in to new lives where they won't have to encounter their old friends and family. I get a Christmas card each year from them, usually with palm trees and naked guys on it. And, of course, I have ordered every film they've starred in. Nobody knows what went wrong with the weird device and the gel. No one was ever able to replicate the same results with either product. The doctors gave each man a clean bill of health, but their psychiatrists said it might be years before they mentally and emotionally recover from the changes... if ever. They said that Henry and Stewart's nerves must've been hijacked by the malfunctioning device's signal through the medium of the gel, and through those nerves, the rest of their physiology was similarly affected. But doctors and shrinks became compromised after I found one worshipping both partners. It seemed that people just couldn't keep their hands off Hank and Stu... including Hank and Stu. When they left, they were both too into exploring their new muscles and minds that they spent an increasing amount of time having sex and exploring their changes. They didn't even say goodbye. As for me? I'm just living my life, just a normal guy who had a brush with greatness. I'm hoping someday, someone or someones will love me that much.

Chapter One "Oh, you were able to come!" As Roger gave Henry the biggest hug ever recorded in history, his friend gasped "I'm not the Ultimate Musketeer" and as Roger let go he chuckled "Although I could be if you wanted me to!" "We'll save that for the masses!" smiled Roger and with that opened the doors to the SUV and as Henry and Roger piled in all the materials they would need for the Olympia, they jumped in and pointed in the direction of Las Vegas and said in unison "Olympia, HO!" and with that Roger gunned the engine and they were off *** "Your destination is 809 miles away" announced the sat nav as they left Fort Collins "and will take eleven hours and thirty five minutes!" "Wow!" exclaimed Henry, "you do realise that's the same as travelling from where I live to Aberdeen and about two thirds of the way back again. You were right when you said that America was a large country!" "A large country" smiled Roger, "with large men heading to a contest with even larger men!" and with that they both laughed before Roger said "So, how was the flight?" "Flight?" asked Henry, "what flight?" "The flight from the UK to here!" replied Roger "Really?" asked Henry raising an eyebrow, "why on earth would I want to waste money on a flight?" "You never!" gasped Roger to which Henry replied with a chuckle "I did" and with that stated his journey. "I left my home at midnight today" he started, "remembering of course that I'm seven hours ahead of you. I had my luggage with me and so wheeled it down to the beach where I live. Then, and considering it was now a quarter past midnight, I went to the beach hut I have and there I..." "Oh fuck!" moaned Roger, "you did, didn't you?" "...became the Ultimate Musketeer!" added Henry and as he did Roger roared "Oh, fuck, yeah. Go on, tell me what you did!" "Well, after wrapping the luggage onto my back, I dived into the Irish Sea and headed due south west until I got to the Azores a little after three in the morning my time!" "Oh fuck!" moaned Roger, "how fast were you going?" "I'm not sure, but give me a moment" and as he consulted his tablet he replied "About three times faster than an aeroplane, but then I always like to go full throttle when I start!" "And then where?" moaned Roger "Well, I took a right hand turn and headed towards the United States. I think I arrived in, oh, now what was it called?" and with that he looked at the map and said "Ah, yes, here we are, Beverly Beach in Maryland, and that was just about sunrise" "You swum the Atlantic in a little over twelve hours?" gasped Roger "Give or take, yes!" "Oh man, your heart must have been pumping!" "Two hundred and forty beats per minute" said Henry, "about the same as a brisk jog. And from there I ran all the way here" "How long?" moaned Roger, "or should I stop the car now and cum?" "Let's see" came the reply, "I arrived in Maryland at around seven in the morning eastern, so that's five in the morning mountain, we'd agreed to pick me up from the airport at eleven mountain so five hours!" As Roger moaned, he pulled the car over and started scrabbling for something. Pulling out what looked like a drinks bottle, he pulled out his eleven inch cock, thrust it into the bottle and moaned "Speed?" "Three hundred and thirty nine miles per hour" came the reply, "a little under half the speed of sound!" "OOOOOOHHHHHH, FFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKK!" screamed Roger as he came into the bottle and as he orgasmed panted, "Tell Adam, the next time he visits, take the aeroplane. I don't think I'll be able to stand too many of his go it alone journeys!" "Hear that, Adam" said Henry tapping his head, "on the return journey we book a plane" to which Adam grumped in reply "That's not fair, you know I wanted to swim through the Panama Canal!"

Part One Roger Dixon was a stud! It was almost as if he only had to step onto a bodybuilding stage and the world just caved into him. He won every single class he entered be it his local contest, the statewide contest, a regional contest, a national contest, a continent contest or even the day he was crowned Mr. Universe in his class, indeed that day he really let them know what he was packing. He stood up to his maximum height and brought the house down, showing off every sinew of his proportionate 266lb mass. His proportionate 53 inch chest, with his proportionate 2½ inch long nipples just oozed mascunlinity and when coupled with a proportionate 27 inch waist his proportionate eight pack was a thing of wonder to behold. His proportionate 22 inch guns, with veins streaking along them, were unmissable, his proportionate 28 inch quads glistened under the lights, his proportionate 23 inch calves and his proportionate 22 inch thick neck ensured that he won the best poser class as well and was even brought out to pose against the overall winner. But that was all in the past. It was his own desire that was his undoing. First, when at a photoshoot he attempted a 300lb bench much more than he could actually manage to show off his power and tore both his pecs and then the real trouble came when he was caught in a media sting operation and outed. He had always been gay, he loved the attention of people drooling over his muscles, his cock a proportionate 9 inch monster when hard was his pride and joy, no one had complained when photos showing his bulge on stage flooded the magazines but as soon as he was outed, he was dropped faster than you could say "One Hit Wonder". Even now, twenty years after last stepping on stage, he still looked after himself but knew that standing just a mere five foot two tall, weighing 146lbs though still as lean as anything, his 42½ inch chest, 32 inch waist, 14½ inch biceps, 22½ inch quads and 15 inch calves would never cut the mustard against the modern stars of the stage. Even the people in his grand master classes were bigger than he was and as he watched the recording of the last show he had streamed, he traced the buldging pecs of Mr. Grand Master Colorado 2015, a man aged as the same as Roger, 65, yet so muscular Roger wanted to wrap his arms about him and pummel him into submission. But Roger now happy living at his home in Fort Collins, Colorado where he spent most of his days on online forums discussing bodybuilding history and reading stories about the most powerful men ever to exist on the face of the planet had his dreams and would regularly wake up, covered with a thick layer of cum having read stories, both real and fan made, of Hercules lifting an entire cliff face, He-Man wrestling a clone of himself, Milos of Croton splitting a tree apart with his bare hands and his personal favourite, the final act of that Titan, Porthos, holding up a cave to allow his friend to escape. Whenever he read that story, his dreams were always the same. He would rescue that man, take him to his own personal gym where people could train in the nude, and work that man until he begged for mercy, then ram him until he screamed for mercy and then, torture him with high voltage until he caved in and panted "I submit" and allow him and Roger to swap bodies so that Roger could experience the power of the Titan for himself. This interest in the Titan of old eventually developed into an interest in Renn Faires and it wasn't long before Roger, dressed as the Titan himself, was a regular feature and made sure that his body was the centre of attention as demonstrated just the previous week when, whilst holding a talk on the strength of heroes, and deadlifting two hundred pounds for the whole talk, a Spartan came up, grabbed hold of his biceps and squeezed them saying "Arms, that would defy Hercules in their strength" It was after a Renn Faire, where having been a member for a decade the organisers presented him with a leather bound copy of all of the tales of the Musketeers, that Roger found himself in a unique position. He'd been reading another one of Porthos's feats of strength and as per usual was getting very excited about it. “This group was superintended by the man whom D'Artagnan had already remarked, and who appeared to be the engineer-in-chief. A plan was lying open before him upon a large stone forming a table, and at some paces from him a crane was in action. This engineer, who by his evident importance first attracted the attention of D'Artagnan, wore a justaucorps, which, from its sumptuousness, was scarcely in harmony with the work he was employed in, that rather necessitated the costume of a master-mason than of a noble. He was a man of immense stature and great square shoulders, and wore a hat covered with feathers. He gesticulated in the most majestic manner, and appeared, for D'Artagnan only saw his back, to be scolding the workmen for their idleness and want of strength” “Oh, yeah” moaned Roger, “I think I know where this is headed” and with that started to rub his cock in anticipation. “D'Artagnan continued to draw nearer. At that moment, the man with the feathers ceased to gesticulate, and, with his hands placed upon his knees, was following, half-bent, the effort of six workmen to raise a block of hewn stone to the top of a piece of timber destined to support that stone, so that the cord of the crane might be passed under it. The six men, all on one side of the stone, united their efforts to raise it to eight or ten inches from the ground, sweating and blowing, whilst a seventh got ready for when there should be daylight enough beneath it to slide in the roller that was to support it. But the stone had already twice escaped from their hands before gaining a sufficient height for the roller to be introduced. There can be no doubt that every time the stone escaped them, they bounded quickly backwards, to keep their feet from being crushed by the refalling stone. Every time, the stone, abandoned by them, sunk deeper into the damp earth, which rendered the operation more and more difficult. A third effort was followed by no better success, but with progressive discouragement. And yet, when the six men were bent towards the stone, the man with the feathers had himself, with a powerful voice, given the word of command, "Ferme!" which regulates maneuvers of strength. Then he drew himself up” “Yeah” moaned Roger, the rubbing becoming faster making his cock longer, harder and redder , “You show them, Porthos” “The workmen, as commanded by the engineer, drew back with their ears down, and shaking their heads, except for the one who held the plank, who prepared to perform the office” “Oh, fuck” Roger moaned, as his hips started to buck and he could feel himself getting even more aroused “The man with the feathers went up to the stone, stooped, slipped his hands under the face lying upon the ground, stiffened his Herculean muscles, and without a strain, with a slow motion, like that of a machine, lifted the end of the rock a foot from the ground” “Yeah” he moaned again, “show them pure muscle!” “The workman who held the plank profited by the space thus given him, and slipped the roller under the stone. "That's the way," said the giant, not letting the rock fall again, but placing it upon its support” “YEAH!” roared Roger, “SHOW THEM ALL WHAT IT MEANS TO BE PORTHOS” and with that he came so violently that in combination with the long day and the orgasm that followed, Roger started to fall asleep and dropped the book to the ground moaning “Oh, Porthos, I wish I could meet you one day!” and with that slipped into sleep, his cock spurting cum as he did so. This will be a very long story (but I cannot say how many parts it will be). I know from experience how boring that long a story can be so therefore I would like members to help liven it up with their artistic skills be it people like @powerbeats illustrating the sheer effort needed to perform a feat of near superhuman strength, people like @leogrando showing how big people are, or even @darkluster4 showing what happens later on when Roger experiences the full force of the Titan. Therefore I am giving every single illustrator carte blanche to draw what they like when they like

A N L A C O M P L E X ' S T A L E Attila strolled through the large hallways of the world-famous Galleria dell’ Accademia, barely acknowledging the history-making artwork surrounding him. But neither did the hundreds of lucky visitors that were crowding the place: they all had eyes on the greatest objet d’art than mankind would ever produce, him. Standing at 15 feet high, more than 3,000 pounds of raw muscles hulking out of his clothes, with a handsome face to top the whole package, his presence was unmistakable—from the rumbling of the walls with every one of his mighty steps to the potent musky smell of his sweat. People barely reached up above his knees, with for eye-level sight his packed grey-jogging. It had been sewed too large three days ago, but he was now filling it more than nicely, the obscene outline of his impossible cock quite visible along his right quad. From behind, his boulder ass popped out of the fabric of the jogging, tensing it to its limit. The 21-year-old Adonis looked downright godly, the massive Greek statues almost anemic next to him. The crowd worshipped him in silence, none daring to interact directly with him. A sizable mass was now following every one of his movements, his visit much more historic than any of the paintings that hugged the wall. Attila stood captivated by his own stature, engrossed by how puny his meaningless worshippers were and how he dwarfed both in size and beauty any piece inhabiting this “museum”. He was getting high on the feeling of power that inhabited him, a feeling he had grown accustomed to—he could feel his mighty cock getting engorged with blood at the thought of his dominance, and he groped his massive package in appreciation. Even to him, it felt incredibly big, almost wrongly so… Flashes went off there and here. Not only were all eyes on him, but all cameras too. There wouldn’t be a single photo taken of the art today; all were of his marvelous body. The guards had tried to enforce the “no-flash” rule, but it had proven to be impossible. Pictures of him were flooding social media and were starting to take over the news. His presence and his growth over the last few weeks had been surprisingly quite discreet—this was surely his first public appearance since the press conference a week ago his parents had held for him broking the 10-foot barrier. Little did he know, but there was a staggering waiting line at the entry of the museum for a Monday morning: after seeing his pictures on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, or on the local news, thousands had gathered and were trying to get in; if just only to get a glimpse of him. His presence was noticeable in many ways. As he was wandering through the diminished galleries, his manly smell was filling the whole place, overpowering every little shrimp in the building. It was the fragrance of a true male, a true god amongst men… It was even more so pungent for the people closer to him, as they found themselves at equal distance from his sweaty black snickers and from his murky groin. It was oddly endearing, stripping the tiny onlookers of the little virility they still had after laying eyes upon his all-powerful body. It was almost mesmerizing: they found themselves desiring to serve him, to feel diminished next to their new god—a feeling so powerful that no one could escape it… He finally reached the piece he had been seeking since he had arrived: he had not made this trip simply out of generosity to help the museum with its diminishing ticket sale, but rather to show the world something, to send a clear message through the demonstration he intended to make in a few minutes. At the end of the hallway was the unmistakable masterpiece of Michelangelo, David. The massive marble statue was a sight to behold, its model the ultimate embodiment of manliness. Well. The penultimate to be more precise, since the staggering growth spurt of Attila. While the definition on the David was wonderful, especially on his knotty slightly oversized hands and feet, it was nothing compared to the sheer mass of Attila. And as he got closer, this was becoming quite evident to anyone standing in the room… The crowd had gathered en masse around the statue, seeing the subject of all visits today approaching it with renowned interest. As he entered the large room hosting the masterpiece, he couldn’t help but feel a slight appreciation for Michelangelo’s work. It was the best a mere mortal’s imagination could produce… It had been mankind’s best shot at creating an idol for manliness: the best our limited minds could produce. But Attila had known no bound in his need for power; as many had thought he had reached the limits of his body, his next growth spurt had proven them wrong every single time. There was no bound to his ability to get bigger, and he knew it entirely. People were not ready to accept it yet: he was only getting started. Soon, the statue would be of no more interest to people than was a speckle on the tiles of the floor was. David’s torso was a thing of beauty; there was denying that. But it was completely overshadowed by the insane volume of Attila. His shoulders were twice as large, his back a sea of sturdy muscles that made the statue look featureless. His biceps made the ones of David look like little twigs that he could snap in half with his fingers. The most prominent feature of Michelangelo’s work, his hands, paled in comparison to the giant’s ones. They looked powerful, almost frightening knowing the power they could unleash; how he could crush to paste in his fist a living man’s head with ease. The comparison, of course, was far from stopping here. But it was more than enough to introduce the show he was about to put on. Indeed, David, once the universal standard for virility and manliness, looked like nothing but a feeble immature little boy next to Attila. As he got within feet of the symbol, there were gasps in the ever-growing audience. Thanks to its pedestal, the statue was standing a head above the young giant; without it, it would have barely reached his pecs. This offered the statue a few more minutes of somewhat decency, as its flimsy marble was otherwise completely dwarfed by Attila’s lively muscles. He stood here for a second, sizing it up, somewhat hesitant about how to better show his unquestionable superiority. He could, of course, just wreck it to dust here and there—but this would be so trivial… Such a petty act would fail to convey the full message he wanted to send today. There was a hectic feeling in the room. Hundreds of smartphones were popping everywhere, the crowd filming and streaming on the web what they knew was going to redefine the course of history. Everybody had the almost dire apprehension that something memorable was coming. Yet, nobody could quite tell why they had that feeling or what was going to happen. Attila was in full control of the situation, the crowd mesmerized by every twitch from his body. There was no doubt news casters all around the country were starting to pick up on his appearance at the museum, commenting every subtle detail they could find. His choice of appearing alongside Michelangelo’s David had been understood by all as conveying a powerful and deep message. But he was gonna do more than just stand by it: he was gonna give them a show; the show of their lives. “And you came from all over the world to see … that?!” his deep baritone boomed, as he pointed at David in disgust. At the first word coming out of his mouth, all murmurs had stopped, the whole Galleria now dead silent, his voice echoing infinitely inside the building. He walked ceremoniously around the statue, his deliberately slow powerful steps making the whole room rumble. He gobbed, sending a massive loogie on David’s ridiculous dick—bringing the crowd’s attention to how minuscule it looked, especially compared to the python looming in his jogging. Sizing down the statue, he felt a now too common feeling of power inhabiting him, inhabiting every fiber of his dense muscle. The crowd below looked so … so meaningless to him. They were weak, irrelevant and pathetic. They were a bunch of deplorables. He could all wipe them out on a whim if it pleased him… And the worse? They would certainly like it—they would enjoy every minute of him crushing them to death under his sweaty soles. He groped his dick in appreciation, realizing how massive it had grown from the excitement. There was an obscene, downright pornographic, unmissable tent in his jogging but he cared very little; all the more so, he liked it. It would only remind the so-called men below of how puny they were next to his mightiness. He stopped in front of the David, removing his sweat-drenched black tank-top. There were clear exclamations from the crowd as he reveled his tight eight-pack—or was it a ten-pack? —, defined beyond the imaginable. There wasn’t a single pound of fat on his stomach, each of his cobblestone-like abs popping a few inches out of his stomach. His proportions were quite simply beyond perfection. Contrary to many bodybuilders, his stomach hadn’t become bloated from steroid overuse; it was simply packed with dense muscles. His waist was barely half the size of his boulder like shoulders, giving a clear V-shape to his knotty back. As he removed the shirt further, his sea of abs became alive with his further movements, his oblique a reminder to all men watching that they had such muscles hiding under their disgusting layers of fat. The spectacle was enthralling. Women wetted themselves on the spot from such a godly sight, while many men surprised themselves with the most massive boner they had ever felt. “You look all so puny.” He commented, sending shivers down the spines of everyone watching, as he seized the crowd down, now standing shirtless. Bare-chested, his bulging pecs were now fully visible. They looked like two massive balloons, each larger than a small fridge, their striations only highlighting the density and the tightness of his unbelievable chest. The gap in between them looked big enough for a grown man’s leg to fit in, a further reminder of the astonishing size difference between himself and every other man that had ever walked this Earth. Furthermore, there was no possible comparison between his torso and David’s. They looked as if they came from different species, Attila’s mass and symmetry unmatched by even the most ambitious carvings of Michelangelo. The upper-body envisioned he had envisioned looked fragile, if not flabby, as if he had lacked any ambition in building the statue. Hundreds of years of reference in terms of manhood had been thrown away in a second, and no one would question today’s match winner. But the demonstration was far from finished. In fact, it hadn’t even started. Attila threw his sweat-drenched black tank top to the other end of the room, where it landed on some members of the audience. What was a tight piece of clothing to him was more than enough to cover a large queen-size bed, and the few trapped under his top had difficulties getting out, overwhelmed by its pungent smell. For the first time in their worthless lives, they experienced true bliss. Under this sweaty blanket, they found themselves stripped of any quality they might have had, stripped of their identities, reduced to their bare bones. Under his domination, they could experience their true self and find a common and unique purpose: to serve him, to their deaths if necessary. They were in raptures over his magnificent body, his infinite power… After seeking one for so long, they had found a true God. “Let me show you what a real man is made of.” And without further ado, he delighted the crowd to a posing show that would enter the history books. He started with a breathtaking front biceps pose. His upper arms looked like two dense balls of steel, his biceps peaking higher than the shoulders of a fully grown man were wide. There was more power and muscles in one of his arm than in anyone in the room. His shape was overshadowing the David, its shoulders and head barely visible above his, for the rest of its body was concealed by the impossibly wide wall of muscles that was his torso. His quads were popping out through the fabric of the jogging, hugging it incredibly tight. They were defined beyond reason, each stride of raw muscle packing more power and mass than a bodybuilder whole quads. This pushed his growing bulge forward, an obscene tent the unmistakable sign he was getting off the size difference between him and the dazed onlookers. His dick barely more than at full mast, it looked to be more than 23 inches long… And God, how thick that rod was! Feeling a good pump coming, he flexed harder, his cheese-grate abs popping even more, a spider of veins now appearing along his entire arms. He moved to a front lat spread, to showcase just how wide his shoulders were. There were gasps—barely audible under his groans—in the audience, as his back overshadowed the David even more. As he breathed in, his chest heaved bigger and bigger, like one would inflate a balloon. Each muscle fiber in his pecs were rock hard, packing unfathomable power. As he held the pose, the pump was getting more than noticeable, his already tremendous biceps having gained a few more inches of circumference. But perhaps, the most astonishing increase in size from blood-flow came from his cock… It was now getting close to being fully erect, and there was actually quite a noticeable tearing sound as it got fuller and fuller, the jogging slowly giving away under the combined strain of his diamond quads and his python cock. His bulge was getting so large that the people right below could barely see his stomach and abs; while his balloon-like chest concealed the view of his handsome smile for many others. Noticing that his muscles were so large they were impairing his vision, he couldn’t help but get even more stoked. The sight of his strapping body would be more than enough to send him over the edge… But he wanted for the audience to see more; to leave truly reduced to being nothing more but his foot slaves. Feeling close to what he wanted to achieve, his muscles bulging bigger by the second simply from the pump, he moved on to the next pose. Without warning, he stepped over with his right leg and planted his left leg behind, reaching a heart-stopping side chest pose. There were gasps of terrors as his 33 inches long Nike moved close to crush someone alive; for the few that hadn’t sprung to their feet in time, the slight brush had broken three of their ribs with ease. Yet, the crowd was transfixed by the show and did not even do more than slightly shudder. None dared to move, afraid of missing the upcoming spectacle: they were entirely at his mercy, engrossed by his cockiness. His body was now beyond any pump any bodybuilder could get; the veins on his biceps were dazzling, complimenting their singular round shape. His forearms were an intricate net of veins, his skin astonishingly tight on the strides of his muscles. From the blood filling them, his muscles had bulged noticeably bigger than they were when he had started flexing. The David behind looked featureless, paling in comparison to the liveliness, unfathomable mass and insane definition of Attila’s body. His move from one pose to another had sent a whiff of his smell filling the room, beads of sweats covering his body from the insane exertion. He was giving this show all he had, and it was showing; his muscles were tensed harder than ever, with an intensity many only thought a workout could lead to. The virile smell was only complimenting the visual show, enthralling everyone and putting the crowd in a trance like state. More tearing sounds from his over stretched jogging brought him back to reality for a second, away from his dreams of control and power. The super-pump had made his quads grow even further, pushing his pants far beyond their limits. His ass was the size of big boulder rock, with a perfect round shape—contrary to far too many bodybuilders, he hadn’t sacrificed aesthetics and symmetry for size: he had both! Even though his quads were of a thickness few could fully grasp, the bulge of his massive 30 inches erect endowment still managed to peak above them, the top of it drenched in smelly precum. His previously too large custom sweat pants were now looking more like tight Lycra ones; he had completely overgrown in a matter of days—without any growth spurt, yet! He threw back his head in ecstasy, moaning at the thought of his incredible growth and mighty body. This rattled the entire building, his deep growl putting the audience’s ears in pain; and yet, it was music to their ears. He had finally reached climax; not sexual climax, but one that was far more powerful and alarming for his surroundings… He could feel every single fiber in his body aching for more power, for more size; his gaze was blurred with vision of him growing bigger and bigger, dominating over entire cities; he felt his entire body push against its skin, his body pumped beyond belief, ready to explode with additional size. He was high on power, on strength—he was high on his need to grow bigger and stronger… And grow he was going to, without any brakes or restraints. “You wanted to see a real man?” he boomed, slowly turning his back to the crowd. There was a deluge of approbation that echoed throughout the entire museum—the place had been turned into more of a stadium by now, judging from the crowd behavior. The audience was hectic, entirely at his mercy and service. He laughed at the sound of their measly squeaks—it was music to his ears. Though, he had to take it slowly. His body was on the verge of erupting into the mother of all growth spurts, and he wanted to enjoy every second of it… He gently came to face the David, his massive back and boulder ass offered to the crowd. “You ready?” he enquired with a smirk on his face, jubilating from the thousands of gazes on his rock hard body, every muscle in his body more tensed than ever. The crowd started chanting his name rhythmically, with new found fervor. He started bringing up his knotty arms, slowly, carefully spreading his lats… He felt on the edge, power radiating through him with ever-increasing intensity, spasms simulating his tight muscles; he had never experienced something like that before: he felt more Godly than ever, capable of lifting and breaking mountains would he desire it. As he spread his lats wider and wider, a sea of muscles coming to life on his back, he could feel every single one of his muscles progressively locking, as if he was progressively engaging a massive piece of machinery through its different gears… He could feel every single muscle fiber in his body coming to life, the heat and the strain on every square inch of his tanned skin, his dick pulsating at full mast, ready to plow through anything. As his arms reached their position for a back double biceps pose, he felt the utmost climax coming, his entire body shivering at the thought of it. On the very edge of a historic moment, he had the choice: the dive into the haze of powerful radiating heat that obscured his feelings with thought of domination and power or to forever stand at its doorstep, basking in its vigorous blaze. In this very moment, he had the ability to change the course of history itself; to redefine what mankind was. For once and for all, he felt alive, in full control. As a smirk appeared on his face, he started to tense everyone of his muscles at once, slowly focusing on every fiber, every stride, every group of muscles, bringing his whole body back to life at once, into full gear… He delighted in the few seconds that passed as his veins began popping up all over his shredded body, time suspended for a moment… He could dive in, or stay here, in the bask of the radiating heat, filled with infinite pleasure. At last, he made his choice: “enough of these games” he thought and he let go of everything, diving in fully into the blaze of power, strength and dominance that awaited him. The era of Attila the giant had begun. His movement of spreading his lats, of expanding his back for his pose never stopped: as he flexed his powerful biceps with all of his might, his back kept on expanding, larger and larger, creeping outward at the rate of a few inches per second. His entire body began expanding, growing out in all directions. With every passing second, more mass was getting crammed into the ever-expanding peaks of his biceps, his pecs bulging further and further, his legs becoming longer and longer… “He is growing!” squeaked someone in the audience, as a common gasp of terror filled the building. But soon, everybody fell silent, transfixed by his impossible show; the ominous soundtrack to his unstoppable growth became the ramble of the ground as he was packing hundreds of pounds of muscles after hundreds, his jogging and Nike stretching to failure. This was the coming of a new God… He kept on holding the pose for a few more seconds, his head soon coming to eye-level with the puny David; he broke the 17-foot barrier as if it was nothing, now looking down on the statue. Its entirety was hidden by his ever-broadening back, while the pedestal was mostly concealed by his diamond quads, each wider than the statue itself. He took a step forward, the measly glass barrier below simply exploding on contact with his impossibly powerful legs. There were yelling of fear, but nobody moved an inch, even the ones right under him for whom the available space was diminishing with every second. His growth seemed to know no end, as his eyes were now gazing above the not-so-huge-anymore statue. The David looked like a flabby child next to him, with no feature to redeem itself. As if the comparison couldn’t get anymore diminishing for the masterpiece, his jogging started to get teared apart, the fabric exploding in between his two butt cheeks from the tension created by his ever-growing ass. He tensed up his muscles further, his quads exploding through the fabric with renowned strength and reducing it to pieces in seconds. As his jogging felt down on the puny onlookers below, it revealed his tight white boxers, which wouldn’t last for much longer either. The seams on their side had already exploded from his growing legs, leaving it to look like more of a teared apart jockstrap than anything else. His balls hung low between his legs, quite visible from behind, while his dick was tearing through the front of his boxers, leaving precum on the ground and on the pedestal of the statue. As his shoulders were starting to rise above the head of the David, he dropped the pose, relaxing back his muscles, his body covered with sweat. “Doesn’t like that big anymore, huh?” His voice took everyone aback; it was much deeper and powerful than before. The statue looked more than feeble now in front of him, as he was now oversizing it in every regard. If his biceps kept on expanding, they would soon be bigger than the torso of the David! But for now, his growth had tempered off—though it was hard for him to resist the envy for more size… He flicked his cock, annihilating the remaining of his boxers. The pungent pieces, imbibed with precum, fell on a poor guy below who quite simply collapsed down from the overwhelming smell. Attila barely noticed—he was more occupied relinquishing his massive body and comparing it with the piece of art he had put out of fashion. Each of his pec was actually larger than was the entire upper torso of the statue! He had grown seriously huge with his previous growth spurt, weighing now in excess of 7,500 pounds, more than two big sedans put together! And the strength he was packing was downright scary: he could blow right through the statue if he wanted to, and he wouldn’t even leave with as much as a bruise! The audience could now admire freely his uncovered legs, each as big as a tree trunk, each an incredible powerhouse of raw strength. His quads were now longer and far larger than a human being, but made of impenetrable thick muscle; they could easily crush to dust a car, which was telling regarding what it could do to a human… People now stood well below his knees; they faced calves that were bigger than them, covered with a slight fur of blonde hair. They lead to his massive feet, each almost three feet in length! His Nike hadn’t given in yet; but they were visibly distorted, with the laces starting to pop out; there wasn’t much doubt they would soon simply explode, liberating his incredible feet. He wondered about what to do next for a second; destroy the statue? Nah. He had an ever better idea in mind… He turned around, revealing his 45 inches cock to the public. There were gasps in the audience, for the rod was quite obscene: veins were snaking along it, and it was leaking precum at a steady rate, spilling it all over the floor. People actually took a step back, terrified by the monster; but they found themselves oddly attracted to it, in dire need of getting a closer look. They wanted to feel it, to stroke it, to lick it… It was an object of desire, of absolute worship: the ultimate embodiment of manliness. Even to his proportions, it was oddly huge. “You like that thing?” he enquired with a smirk, knowing very well the answer. He dreamt of plowing it right through someone, but there was no one alive that could handle such a massive endowment; he would just split them up in the second he would thrust his monster in them. And while the idea certainly fascinated him, even excited him, he had no time for these games. He started stroking his cock with one of his hands, unable to resist the temptation. The feeling of fullness it had sent shivers down his spine: it felt so massive, so powerful… His giant hand could barely cover a quarter of it and he couldn’t even close it around his shaft—it was that thick! As he rubbed it, more precum started loudly falling out, forming a growing puddle on the ground. The scent of it was thick and was starting to fill the room quickly; it acted as an incredible aphrodisiac on all the people here. Some of them couldn’t even stop it and started jacking it right here, on the spot, while the less resilient just climaxed on the sight of his unfathomable endowment. He started moaning loudly, getting off once again on his perfect body. As he realized his dick was half the size of a grown man, he started losing himself in his dreams of power and dominance again… He could see himself towering over the entire city, crushing buses under his relentless sole, his dick by then far larger than a train wagon. And as he would flex his hill-sized biceps, he would grow more and more, endlessly, his head above the cloud, the entire city under his smelly feet… The whole world would belong to him, mankind reduced to serve him. He would reign as a merciless God, ready to crush anyone who dared not comply with his superior demands. He felt overwhelmed by the sight, now on the verge of cumming… But he was suddenly brought back to reality. What brought him back to reality made him explode in deafening laughter seconds later, the walls rumbling hard. He looked at David’s dick—or more exactly speckle—the thing barely bigger than his thumb’s nail. He gazed back at his overwhelming endowment, exploding with renowned laughter. People had to cover their ears in pain, but he kept laughing and laughing, unable to fathom the ridiculousness of the statue microscopic endowment. “And you dare call that a man!” he was able to muffle through his laughter, his abs heaving rhythmically with each burst of laughter. The idol had been truly ridiculoused, from head to toe… There was nothing more to redeem from it. It was now time for him to show off his new path and introduce his era—to become a true Godly idol. “Let me show you…” he started to flex his abdominal muscles, the wall they were forming getting tighter and tighter by the second… He raised his massive arms behind his head, his triceps exploding with size as he did so, his massive arms almost brushing his cheeks… He gazed at the minuscule crowd below with a smirk, and flexed hard, harder than ever before. His body wasted no time in reacting to his demand for additional size; it was time to resume the growth spurt, and quickly. And this time, there would be no more pit stops on the way to becoming a true giant. His growth kicked into high gear almost immediately, his body expanding again rapidly. But this time, everyone was keen to notice that something was different: he was growing much more quickly than ever before, his muscles expanding at a worrying rate. Suddenly, the top of the statue barely came to his nipple, the puny shrimps below finding themselves having to expand the circle around him so as not to get crushed. His shoes exploded in the following seconds, unable to contain his ever-growing feet. A wave of their pungent sweaty smell hit everyone in the room, for they had been kept trapped for hours into the tight shoes. His toes were now expanding quickly outward, and he wiggled them in appreciation, only worsening the virility-stripping smell. Each of them was nearly as big as a head, their shape surprisingly enticing for the people around them. Indeed, many felt the need to go lick clean his dirty soles, but this would be a death wish seeing how fast they were growing. His ominous manly smell was far too endearing and mesmerizing for anyone in the room to resist. It was a mixture of sweat and precum mixed with a powerful whiff from his soles, and while this would usually be disgusting, coming from him, it was the embodiment of manliness and virility. His worshippers relinquished in its salty taste, feeling voodooed by its nuances. They felt compelled, oddly drawn by his stinky sole and his deep, drenched in sweat, hairy pits. With every breath they were taking, they were further stripped of their identity and consequently reduced to being nothing but his toys; they finally felt at ease in their position of inferiority, having nothing to prove, and being finally able to embrace their worthlessness. His growth seemed impossible to stop. He was enthralled by the high he was getting from seeing his surroundings shrinking, as the puny humans around him were becoming more and more like rodents. He couldn’t care less about them anymore; if they were to die under his feet, so was it, for he was now their almighty and all-powerful God. He brought one of his arms up and flexed his massive ball of a biceps… “AM I EVER SO HUGE!” He boomed in appreciation of his size, flexing even harder his arm. The effects of that gratuitous flex were instantaneous, kicking his growth in an even higher gear. He seemed to defy all laws of physics, his stature expanding larger and larger, the ground rumbling from the weigh he was packing every second. They watched powerlessly as his calves heaved higher and higher, each larger than the statue. The tallest in the crowd were barely coming to half their length by now! His torso had been affected by a similar increase in size; fully grown men could now sit on his massive traps, and his back looked as if you could build a bungalow onto it. His flexed biceps was peaking higher and higher by the second—it was now larger than the entire Michelangelo’s statue and still increasing in size steadily. Its round shape was of indescribable perfection, its growing strides and striations creating mesmerizing patterns. He was watching it grow with passion, enthralled to flex harder with every passing second, fueling his growth even further. Each row of abs was now passing one after another the top of the David, each abs the size of a household fridge, only much sturdier and fuller. He was truly becoming a giant… Soon enough, he had more than doubled his original size: he was standing at 40 feet tall, close to the arches leading to the surrounding hallways, the top of the statue barely coming up to his waist. He had blown the 55,000 pounds mark, bigger than five massive pickup trucks. And with every second, he was only getting bigger, with no plan to stop. He readjusted his stance, sending a few people to the ground with his massive leg. To him, it barely felt like brushing against a twig. To them, it felt like a wall had hit them at full speed—and they suffered from heavy internal bleeding and many fractures. As he slammed his foot into the ground, the entire building rumbled, plaster falling from the ceiling and precious paintings falling to the ground. He was becoming a true giant, one that could grow endlessly at will… He smiled at the thought of his newly found destructive abilities—and he had barely tried! His feet, much like his dick, were now bigger than a fully grown adult! He could certainly crush entire cars under his feet, without doing as much as exerting any pressure—heck, he could certainly flatten a tank if he wanted! His destructive power knew no bound and was increasing by the very second, with no one able to do anything to stop him! The reality that a new order for things had been set today escaped to no one in the room; the extent to which this growth spurt was redefining history hit everyone, be they in the Galleria or watching him on TV, at home. They were now gazing at him fearfully, afraid of what was to come next. Unable to resist the temptation anymore, he started masturbating his massive rod with one of his powerful arms. It answered by growing even more erect, the firehose sized veins increasing in number all over it. Many of the people standing in the room were getting covered with the young Adonis precum; he was simply too big to keep sharing this room without them getting somewhat dirty. As he stroked his massive member, he flexed his massive chest and reduced his abs to a heart-stopping vacuum, furthering his growth even more. He felt overcome with delight as his growth rate increased even further. With every breath he was taking, his upper torso heaved bigger and bigger, each pecs large enough to park a car on them. The cleavage in between them was now big enough for a whole human being to fit in, and he could surely crush them to paste if he was to flex them as someone stood there. There was no sign of slowing down; if anything, his growth spurt was accelerating. His head passed the arches separating the room from the three hallways leading into it. He looked up and saw the glass dome above, standing at 60 feet high—a barrier he would soon break. He couldn’t even see most of the room’s floor under his massive pecs! His dick was now looming above the David, and each of his stroke only made him bigger and bigger. He felt as if he could continue all day long, being far from having exhausted this growth spurt, untapped potential still available to him. Though, relaxing his abs, he decided he wanted to end this quickly; he was tired of this room that basically posed no challenge to him anymore. He wanted to get free, to get in the city and to roam freely on his new empire. He brought his two arms back up and moved into a final double biceps pose. His two fists were getting dangerously close to the glass ceiling and a movement of panic caused people to start hustling out of the room as they understood a shower of glass shards awaited them. Flexing his two biceps harder than ever, he threw his head back in ecstasy, his booming laugher erupting and rattling the building. His growth reached its apex speed; growing at almost a foot per second, his frame expanded further and further, his feet pushing against the trapped people below. As he wiggled his toe in pleasure, he could feel people getting snatched under them, condemned to getting crushed to death under his ever-growing sole. Many who had to suffer this fate considered it an honor they could have never hoped for; they would serve at his feet, licking his salty skin until their very last breath. His fists, each big enough to hold an entire human or to take away the statue as one would a small water battle, slammed into the ceiling; it shattered instantly, the shards bouncing off his impenetrable skin, not even making a dent in his massive body. There wasn’t a thing known to man that could hurt him now. Finally, the sun shined on his head, and the view of the Galleria and Florence started to clear. Reaching 65 feet, his shoulders exploding out of the building, people barely ankle high to him, he looked around to see that most of the buildings were smaller than him; he was now weighing more than 177 tons—twice an Abraham tank with weight to spare—and his strength was unfathomable. His demonstration had been more than successful: he was starting to feel satisfied with his new size, his torso large enough to build a family house upon, his biceps peaking higher than a human was tall and his traps just as tall. He looked at himself with contempt, delighted by every square inch of his body. Besides, he was starting to struggle with having his quads fit in the building… His growth started to tamper, just as it had come. A few courageous mind dared to reenter the room, where a mess of shard and plaster awaited them. The room had turned dark, for Attila massive body was shading it from the sun. The David was still standing in the middle of the room intact, if dusty and humiliated, surrounded by two massive calves which it barely reached three quarters of. His dick was actually longer and far larger than the statue itself, the ultimate testament of his insane domination over his surroundings. The way it hung from his shredded body seemed impossible, defying the laws of physics. They could barely see Attila’s head from here, as it was concealed by his massive muscles. He didn’t deign to take a look at the bugs below; their lives had little to no meaning to him—and he had come to peace with this idea. Afar, he could hear the police sirens and the buzzing of the arriving helicopters. His little stunt had steadily gained viewership over the last few minutes, so much that it was now displayed worldwide… “THIS BE A LESSON FOR YOU ALL,” his voice echoed through the entire neighborhood, rattling the windows and making deaf those right below. “MY POWER IS ENDLESS; MY STRENGTH KNOWS NO BOUND; AND MY NEED FOR SIZE IS INSATIABLE” the millions watching felt uneasy, parted between terror and admiration of the youthful giant. “FROM NOW ON,” he marked a pause for dramatic effect, “THIS IS MY KINGDOM AND YOU ARE MY SLAVES!” he boomed so strongly that windows broke all around the Galleria, in a strange chorus of annihilation and carnage. “LET THIS BE A SHOW OF WHAT IS TO COME…” he finally commented. Without a warning he pushed as hard as he could with his massive quads, jumping high into the air. Under the impulsion, the concrete of the ground below had quite simply imploded, unable to resist the staggering strength his legs were packing, the ground shaking from his jump. He folded his legs, his feet actually coming as high as he stood tall before, blowing to pieces more of the domed ceiling; he had just sent his 108-foot, 525 tons body high up in the sky, thanks to his insanely powerful quads. The feat seemed impossible, and yet, here he was, high in the sky. He seemed to hang in the air for long seconds, as the reality of what was to come stroke those below… “What goes up,” many started to think in the audience, “must comes down.” And if the going up part had caused some serious damage…

Part One : The Eve of Christmas Eve "Please, I...I can't do any more!" "You said that you would, now, do it!" "I...Oh, please, if I do any more I'll explode and you know it, please..." "If I have heard that excuse a million times, why should I be moved by it now, eh? Now come on" "I...I....I..." "Quit bellyaching, now do it!" Roger, now almost quivering attempted a front lat spread, but as soon as he did, his eyes opened wide "I...I...I..." he stammered as his cock emerged from the posing shorts "Yes?" "Please, please, I beg you. I need to stop!" moaned Roger, the tip of his cock the deepest purple possible "You made a commitment, you promised to design ten posing routines each one different for ten different am bodybuilders by Christmas Eve" said the Ultimate Musketeer tapping his feet impatiently, "and then asked me to give them the once over. The fact that you've had to do them three times over is neither here nor there, now front double bicep to finish and made it a good one. I want to see every vein in your body bulge!" The agony that Roger was experiencing was writ large on his face. His heart was pounding faster than it ever had done before, he was taking in gulpfuls of air every second, he was covered in sweat and he felt sure he was going to cum. "Good" said the Ultimate Musketeer, "now, keep those arms level, remember you're flexing your biceps but everything else at the same time. That's it, now keep that pose for four seconds!" "I...I...I...OH FUCK!" Roger screamed as he came sending a jet of cum into the air which covered him from head to toe as he collapsed onto the posing room floor, his chest heaving and experiencing the tenth orgasm that day. As he moaned, the Ultimate Musketeer picked up him off the floor, ripped off the posing suit and swallowed his cock whole and as he sucked Roger, Roger's eyes started to close and within seconds he had blacked out. As the Ultimate Musketeer sucked the last of Roger's cum, he chuckled. "Excellent" he smiled, "I wondered how long it would take you to complete those fake posing routine requests I sent to your website" and with that he pulled Roger's cock out of his mouth and said "Roger, you are in for one heck of a Christmas!"

Links to other chapters: Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend Chapter 20 Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 February 10th, 2022 2050 Hours Alvarez, already shirtless and oiling himself up, answered the knock on his door. Naturally, it was Lang. “Right on time. Come on in,” he said. Lang came in, babbling with his usual over-the-top excitement that preceded every Pose and Approve session. “So what do you think the brass thought?” he asked eagerly as he pulled off his t-shirt. Alvarez tossed a bottle of heated mineral oil to his buddy, who uncapped it and began to smear oil onto his muscles as well. “Did you see that old Admiral Whatsisname? Jesus, he looked awesomely p i s s e d o f f, man! And what about all those other dudes? Didja hear them? Didja hear them groaning?? Dude! D’ya think they all creamed their pants?” “Of course they did. They always do. It’s the guaranteed effect.” Alvarez sighed, oiling his triceps, shaking his head. "It's why we're here, man. It's the only reason." Lang laughed excitedly, working the oil into his muscles. “Man, those dudes ain’t never seen muscle like ours before, right? Right?” He flexed powerful biceps and nodded into one of the room’s full-length mirrors with a frowning sneer. “Asshole dudes never seen guns like these, right? pow! bam!!” “Oh, shut the fuck up,” muttered Alvarez. Lang stared. He was suddenly quiet. Alvarez continued to oil himself up. He looked worried. “What’d I say, dude?” Lang asked plaintively, his arms outstretched. Alvarez walked over to him and stood nose to nose before him, the bulges in Alvarez’s jeans and Lang’s posers just touching. He reached around Lang to the back of his head and, guiding his face close, planted a deep kiss onto his perfect lips. He worked his tongue into Lang’s mouth, who responded deeply. Then he pulled back and gazed long and hard into Lang’s deep brown eyes. “I’m sorry. Forget them,” he said reassuringly. “Let’s pose.” “Yeah! Pose and approve!” shouted Lang, and then giggled apologetically, clamping his hand over his mouth in response to Alvarez’s stern look. “Shut up. We don’t want everyone in here.” “Sorry, dude.” “Tonight is just us.” “Sorry, dude! Let’s rock!” Both turned and looked at their reflection in Alvarez’s three-paneled mirror. Excepting Alvarez’s mustache, the two powerful musclemen were almost exact duplicates of one another: tall, dark, and handsome, with deep brown eyes, taut cheekbones and shiny black hair. Their ripped, 285-pound physiques were perfect symphonies of bulging muscle. Lang nodded and forgot all about the brass. He did a crab crunch into the mirror. “Freakkkkyyy…” he muttered. “Swole. So swole.” His veins exploded with throbbing power. Alvarez was undoing his belt, unzipping his zipper, working his tight jeans gradually down his ripped quads. “Pose and approve time, man,” he said to Lang. “Pose and approve.” He picked up a remote and lowered the room’s lights, bringing up the glare of the overhead spotlight focused on the 15' posing dais in front of the mirrors. “Yeah, man, let’s get to it!” Lang ripped off his clothes and stepped up onto the dais as Alvarez kicked away his jeans. Both men were now only barely covered with skimpy royal blue competition posing trunks with hundreds of bright spangles sewn onto the extra-large pouches. The spangles caught the light and glistened like small sapphires. Alvarez stood before him. “You go first.” For an instant, Lang was honored to be going first, as the unspoken law between them during their nightly mutual muscle worship sessions was that Alvarez always got to pose before he did. Tonight was apparently different; even so, Lang was instantly caught up in the sheer joy of his own reflection of muscular near-perfection, and he forgot it right away. The muscleman stood quietly, his heavy arms around his back, his hands clasped. He waited. His ripped abs seemed to extend forever, cobbled fatless bricks laced with thick veins. His cock poled out in his posers. But still he waited. Alvarez was always in charge of Pose and Approve. “Go.” “I’m fucking ….. awesummmmm…..” Lang moaned, loving himself. He slowly curled his huge body into a side biceps pose and turned his head to cockily grin at his reflection. Then he glanced uncertainly at Alvarez in the mirror. “Talk to me,” he demanded, but Alvarez knew he was really begging. “Tell me I’m huge.” Alvarez was not about to let him down. “Yeah, you’re huge, man,” whispered Alvarez with warm smoothness, and he shifted his weight, smoothing the small pools of oil onto his delts. “Those guns of yours look to be about 23 inches. Check out your fist. Motherfucking huge. You could seriously do some serious bare knuckle damage with a fist like that.” His muscles were now gleaming with oil. Lang laughed joyfully. “I have, man! I’ve cleared a few barrooms in my day!” “Punching out ba-a-a-d dudes with those fists?” “Yeah, punching out the bad dudes! Check out these veins, man! They’re like super highways, man! Pumping, buddy. Pumpin’ it up for ya, man.” Lang pumped and flexed. Alvarez capped the bottle, set it down, and turned back, rubbing his hands together. “Oh, yeah, man. That’s good. Nice. Big old motherfucking biceps. Flex those guns for me, man.” “I’m flexing these guns for ya, bro. BOOM. Big muscle in the house,” he cried out joyfully. “Yeah, I see you, man. Nice. Nice big muscles. Biggest muscleman on earth, man.” “’Cept for you, bro. You’re bigger,” said Lang. Alvarez stepped onto the dais under the spotlight, and standing between Lang and the mirror, smoothed hot oil onto Lang’s glistening pecs, stroking his muscles appreciatively. They stood nose-to-nose, not six inches apart. Lang flexed powerful biceps. “Don’t know about that.” Alvarez smoothly applied oil to the granite softballs of Lang’s peaks. Lang stared at himself, transfixed. In his posing trunks his heavy cock was already pointing straight ahead. Alvarez clapped Lang’s huge biceps in his palms. “Like fucking rocks.” “Yeah, man, like fucking boulders, I know. Feel ‘em, man. Feel my muscles.” His eyes took in the mirror reflection of Alvarez’s awesome glutes. “I’m there, man, doing your muscles for you, man.” Alvarez licked his pecs, kissed each bulging biceps, and lightly bit Lang’s nipples. Then he knelt, leaned in and whispered again, his face now level to Lang’s bulging crotch. His breath softly exploded onto Lang’s stiffening cockshaft appearing as his posing trunks poled heavily outward. “You’re big, man. Real big.” “I’m big, hunh?” asked Lang. Now that Alvarez was on his knees and not blocking his upper body reflection, he was gazing at himself with hypnotic eagerness. “Motherfucking huge muscleman, dude.” Lang could feel Alvarez’s breath lightly exploding onto his junk. Still, he never looked away from his own reflection. “So reward me, man. Reward me for my muscles. Reward me for this pose.” “You got it, man. Here comes your reward.” “Thanks, bro,” purred Lang, gazing now in rapture at the pointing peaks of his biceps, his tongue slightly hanging out. His buddy approved. He was in heaven. He’d taken first place in the show running in his head. He and his buddy. “Just keep posing, man.” Alvarez gently opened his mouth and tenderly began to suck Lang’s big cock through his posing trunks. Lang glided into his next pose, a side-chest. And then a front lat spread. His pelvis pushed forward. His poser straining with cock. The pose and approve ritual always began with each man wearing his posing trunks for as long as he could manage to keep them on. They mentally pictured themselves on a competition stage, posing for overwhelmed judges and an audience of thousands of screaming fans, while under the lights, they were really posing only for each other, taking turns kneeling and occasionally bending and sucking each other’s erect cocks through their trunks. They fantasized no one else would be allowed to touch them. They’d turn and punch the lights out of anyone who dared. But the reality was that anyone who wanted to suck their cocks could do so. With just a little begging. After all, big musclemen deserve to get their cocks sucked. Now Alvarez was licking the bobbing cockhead through the straining cloth, running his tongue up and down Lang’s piss slit. Then he deep-throated him, holding the giant cock tenderly in his warm mouth. He held it for 30 seconds. Above him, Lang gulped and continued to pose. Then Alvarez slowly slid his lips off the big dick. The bulging fabric of the bursting poser was wet with saliva. He looked up and winked at the grateful Lang. “Big musclemen like you work hard,” he said with a quiet smile. “You pump those awesome muscles into unbelievable size. When you flex those muscles, it’s mind-blowing. You deserve a reward for all that hard work. You deserve to get your big cock sucked.” “Thanks, man.” “Don’t mention it, bro.” Alvarez ran his hands smoothly up and down Lang’s obliques, smacking his firm sides. He nodded, then looked up. “You got a lat spread you want to show me, man?” He licked his buddy’s abs and waited. “Comin’ up, “Lang breathed, and with a small explosion of breath, he grabbed the straps of his posers, pulled them taut, planted his fists into his obliques, and pumped his rocky pecs into their full mass. He spread his legs wide, the pouch of his posing trunks bulging forward with his fully erect 10-inch penis. Alvarez, still licking the washboard abs, stroked the cock with his thick fingers, glanced up and nodded. “Good lat spread. Great pecs. Lemme see you bounce ‘em. Show me, now.” “Okay.” Lang began to bounce his flexing pecs back and forth in dance of perfect machine gun muscle rhythm. “Yeah, man. Doin’ some serious pec dancing for you now. Boom. Boom. Boom. Watch ‘em, now. Watch these pecs of mine do their thing.” “Do that pec dance thing for me, baby,” said Alvarez. He watched Lang’s bouncing pecs for a full minute. Then he leaned in and licked the cockhead, again through the posers. “I approve. Here’s your reward.” Alvarez once again opened his mouth wide, and with a quick fleck of his tongue against his lips, took the bulging pouch of Lang’s posers full down his throat. Lang, his pecs still dancing, began to slowly pump his hips, fucking face. Bursts of warm precum began to stain the poser fabric, blooming into a widening pool of moisture. Alvarez could see the giant slit of Lang’s big penis head, and licked respectfully. After a minute, he released another small explosion of breath to signify to the bodybuilder kneeling before him that he was going to change his pose again. “Front double biceps,” he announced, and swung his arms up into mighty peaks. Alvarez pulled back slightly, licked the cockhead again, and rocked back on his heels. In his own posing trunks his cock was now full 11 inches erect and poling above the waistband, slap tight against his abs. “Lookin’ good. Now hold that for two minutes. No, three. Hold that pose solid without moving for three minutes. Then you’ll get your reward.” It was agony. Lang loved it. He fiercely held the mountainous peaks of his 23-inch biceps for three full minutes. Sweat began pouring down his face. “Flexing for ya, man!” He bared his lips and gritted his teeth into a grimace. His veins exploded down his neck. The veins in his forearms were like cables of steel wire. He raised one biceps, then the other, again dancing them back and forth. The baseball peaks of his guns gleamed in the spotlight. On his knees before him, Alvarez gazed up worshipfully, pumping his own cock right out of his posing trunks, but not touching Lang. “It’s been more than three minutes,” Lang finally said through his gritted teeth. “So reward me, man! Suck my cock, man!” “Think you deserve a reward?” Alvarez teased, now stroking Lang’s cock tenderly with his tongue. “For these guns? You bet, baby. Take that big cock of mine down your throat now!” “You got it, man.” Alvarez fell forward onto his knees again, his mouth wide open, and landed bulls-eye onto the giant pole bursting in Lang’s posing trunks, taking it all into his mouth. For three minutes, he sucked cock, up and down, licking, spitting, back and forth, deep sucking. Lang gazed down at him, relaxed his biceps a few seconds, and then resumed the pose. He was rock hard. “Dig these guns, man, and suck my cock. Suck your approval. Pose and approve me. Pose and approve.” “Yeah, you like it when I suck your cock while you’re posing?” breathed Alvarez. He licked the mammoth bulge in Lang’s posing trunks. “I can see you onstage, man. Flexing for all those asshole judges. Blowing them all away. Never seen biceps as big as yours. Never seen a cock as big as yours. Poling out in your posing trunks. Big old heavy bulge. Big cocks need to get sucked.” “Yeah? Well, man, I like it when you suck my cock. I like it when you suck my cock while I’m posing for those assholes.” Greedily, Alvarez licked the cloth covering Lang’s heavy testicles. “Lickin’ your balls now, man, licking your balls.” “Put ‘em in your mouth, man. Put my balls in your mouth.” Still flexing, he looked down and eyed Alvarez’s cock hungrily. Alvarez was pumping it now with both hands. It looked like a firehose. Suddenly Lang wanted to suck it. But he didn’t want Alvarez to stop. He dropped to his knees. Alvarez lowered with him, knowing what he wanted. As he watched, Lang flexed his right biceps one more time; Alvarez nodded approval; then Lang leaned in to Alvarez’s cock. He pulled the posing trunks over the cockhead onto Alvarez’s balls, and brought it into his mouth. Alvarez kept sucking. Together the two bodybuilders slowly lowered their huge bodies onto the posing dais under the spotlight and began to service each other with a full-body 69 grapple. Their arm muscles rippled against each other as each man gripped the other’s hard glutes, thick fingers gripping slabs of butt muscle. Each man ecstatically sucked his muscle buddy’s gigantic rod, their balls both still barely covered by their straining posing trunks. After 18 minutes of violent 69 sucking, their posing trunks finally tore from the strain. Rrr-i-i-i-i-pp! Their bullish balls burst free in unison, and each man eagerly licked the other’s heavy testicles passionately. “Next time, you pose first,” whispered Lang, and Alvarez looked over at him, grinned, and flexed a biceps. Lang nodded seriously. “I approve,” he said, “now here’s your reward,” and he bent in, sucking cock. The slurping, moaning, sucking sounds echoed down the corridor. In his room, Private Chris Hension, lying naked in bed, covered with sweat, his pole rising stiffly towards the ceiling, finally couldn’t take it any more. He jumped out of bed, grabbed a robe and a pair of purple spangly posers, stepped into them, fitting his huge member into the pouch with some difficulty, and tore out of his room. He ran down the hallway, his half-tumescent, half-sheathed cock waggling in the breeze, and stopped at Alvarez’s door. He waited an instant – and was about to knock – but, what the hell. He banged on the door, threw it open, and walked in. He knew it would be unlocked. Somehow instinctively he knew they were waiting for him. And so they were. The two musclemen lay on the dais, sucking each other’s cocks, their mammoth physiques coated with a glistening layer of sweat. Without removing dick from mouth, each man slowed for a moment and gazed up at Hension questioningly. “Were we making too much noise?” asked Alvarez, his speech garbled by Lang’s cock. “Yeah. I’d say,” said Hension. He threw his robe to the floor and stood before them in his favorite posing strap, his own erection poling straight ahead. He slammed the door behind him and stepped forward, whipping his arms up into a front double biceps. “Check me out,” he commanded, but there was a note of hopefulness in his voice. Of desperation, Alvarez quietly noted to himself. Good, good, all to the good. “Damn. He’s a pretty little muscleboy, ain’t he?” said Alvarez, momentarily releasing Lang’s cock. “He sure is,” said Lang, doing the same. “You see me every day, guys. I ain’t so little,” said Hension, flexing. “Maybe we’ve never noticed you before.” “Fuck you both.” “Oh, sorry. Maybe you should leave?” “NO! I wanna play too!” Hension flexed feverishly. “Okay. We’ll think about it.” Alvarez licked Lang’s dick a few times and lolled his head back towards Hension. Lang, however, appeared to take no more interest, turning his full attention to sucking his buddy’s dick. He bent in and deep-throated Alvarez’s stiff penis a few times, gagging slightly, and then resumed his gentle, steady sucking and licking. “You sure are pretty. Big biceps. Big. Good quads. Turn around.” Hension turned around, did a rear lat spread, pointing his shapely round glutes to the ceiling. “Nice. Awesome hams. Lang, you see those hams?” …..Suck suck suck suck suck…. “No? Hmmm. Guess he’s busy. Come on over here and flex for us while we suck some cock.” And Alvarez turned back to Lang’s quivering member, appearing indifferent. “I’ll show you guys,” muttered Hension, stepping onto the dais. He was ready. He’d been waiting a long time for this. And he’d been kidded, slapped, punched, and pushed around too long to not grab the moment. His moment. “I’m gonna flex now, and you’re gonna watch me!” he shouted. From the floor of the dais, Alvarez and Lang turned and looked up at him. There was a pause. “So go ahead,” said Alvarez. “Let’s see what you got.” He paused. “Boy,” he added.

Links to other chapters: Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After NG "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 Chapter 18: Inside Zaftig’s Lab: The Musclemen Revealed February 10th, 2018 2020 Hours “Are we all here?” asked Zaftig. “Get on with it, man,” said Admiral Walrus testily. “We haven’t got all night.” “Of course. Dr. Irving, are the men ready? They are? Good. Then bring the subjects in.” Dr. Irving moved quickly to another set of double doors that were marked “To the Showers”. He opened the door, and a red light next to it began to signal. “Come in, gentlemen,” he called. A few moments passed. A few in the assembled ranks of waiting officers and adjutants shifted nervously from foot to foot. The sound of distant footsteps, growing closer. The Twenty entered the room in single file. Their audience gasped involuntarily. The Twenty were an awesome sight. All were dressed in tight white t-shirts with “Valhalla Labs” printed across the chest. All wore insanely tight white jeans, white socks and tightly laced black leather Army boots. The men marched across the room to the left in perfect cadence, snap-turned and faced the Officers at full attention. The sight was ungodly to behold. The men were of different nationalities and ages, and they varied in height. One or two were of average height, and one was unusually short. Three were as tall as Casey. The black man at the head of the line was the tallest and biggest of all, nearly 7’-0”. Four others were black, two Asian, the rest Latin or white. Each man was unusually handsome and clear eyed. All boasted extreme mass and astonishing muscularity. Their shoulders were broad and wide, their traps sloped down from thick necks, and their powerful chests rippled with power in their tight t-shirts. They all held their heavily sinewed arms at their sides, again with thick thumbs slightly crooked inward, as if pointing at the looming, floor-pointing bulges pouting behind the flies of their skin-tight white jeans. “Project Herculaneum reporting for inspection, Dr. Zaftig,” barked the tall black man. “Thank you, Sergeant Moster,” said Zaftig. “I think we’re all here. Private Rockland, will you step forward, please?” Sam looked down the line-up. There stood Casey in the flesh, the fifth man down. He looked over at Zaftig, and then shot a quick, questioning glance at Sergeant Moster. He seemed surprised and a touch uncertain to have been called out, looking slightly right and left at his fellow musclemen. No one else moved. He stepped forward. “Sir,” he said, quietly. “Come here, Private.” Casey started to cross the room when he caught sight of Sam, who was watching him evenly. His step never slowed, but eyes lingered a moment on Sam’s face. Sam was all attention. “Strip down for us, Casey.” “Yes, sir.” Unhesitatingly Casey stripped off his tight white Valhalla Labs t-shirt, which popped slightly and deflated with a rush of air when released from his mammoth shoulders. He turned away momentarily and bent over to unlace his boots. All were drawn to the mountainous glutes, the double pockets strained over rocks of muscle, the seam of his jeans sharply marking the likely deep butt crack beneath. Casey stood, turned back, and undid the top button of his jeans. He unzipped the looming zipper. With difficulty he pulled his pants down over his thick quads, looking up a little embarrassed at his clumsiness. “Casey has troubles undressing sometimes,” explained Zaftig with a paternal smile. “He needs clothes that vanish at the push of a button,” muttered General Needling. “Boots next, Private,” said Moster. “Yes, sir,” said Casey. Sam thrilled at the sound of his deep, resonant, mysteriously shy voice. Casey stepped out of the boots, pulled the jeans down the rest of the way, and kicked everything away. He was wearing the white Spandex poser, which fully revealed the top 6 inches of the shaft of his massive organ. His huge penis spilled forward a few inches before disappearing into the smooth synthetic mesh pouch. Now Sam could see that the fabric was translucent, and the shadows of heavy cock veins pressed outward. He wondered for a moment why Casey bothered to wear it at all, but conceded it was probably a pale gesture towards some feeble sense of modesty. Or perhaps more likely, his big baseball balls were just so damn heavy he could use the extra support. Wow, he thought to himself. “Show our guests some poses, Casey,” said Zaftig. Casey nodded, took a step away, and complied. Standing before the Officers, Casey opened his huge arms wide. He balled his hands into fists and angled them toward the group and held the pose a moment. Then he slowly stepped right, and spreading his mammoth legs wide apart, he slowly curled his arms up into a freaky double biceps pose. “Thank you. Hold that pose, please, Casey.” “Yes sir.” Casey stood motionless, his arms steady and upright, his biceps flexing mightily. He didn’t quiver. His eyes flicked back in Sam’s direction for an instant, and then he returned his gaze front. Jesus H. Christ, thought Sam. He’s flexing for me. He grinned lazily across the lab floor at Casey. Casey didn’t respond, but after a moment he pivoted ever so slightly towards Sam. He raised his square jaw just a mite. His massive biceps rippled a little, and grew even a little more, slowly gaining even more size, glowing more intensely, bulging all the more fiercely. Sam smiled. Casey turned his eyes away and resumed his gaze straight ahead, as a single creek bed of sweat appeared in the split head of the flexing left biceps, making its molasses-slow, thick journey down the front of the rocky peak. “Project Herculaneum has been entirely financed by a few private anonymous investors,” Zaftig was saying now. Sam roused himself back to attention. “No public moneys have been siphoned to create the magnificent specimen you see before you now. Casey – and indeed, all these other 19 men we have laboriously trained and developed here at Valhalla Labs – hasn’t cost the United States government so much as a thin nickel.” “I’m interested in his other dimensions,” came a comment, seemingly from nowhere. Sam looked around, wondering who would dare at this moment to refer to the obvious. The other aides froze with tension, but it wasn’t clear who spoke. “Who said that?” screamed Walrus. Two or three of the musclemen smiled a little, and one, an unusually short pretty boy, snorted. Sergeant Moster glared at them, and their smiles faded instantly. Zaftig beamed. Dr. Irving pushed his heavy glasses up his nose, and fumbled with his clipboard. Walrus turned back to Zaftig and then spluttered. “Damn it, no man should be this big! And why the hell are you showing him to us with no goddamn clothes on?” His aides twittered nervously. Emboldened by the ownerless comment, the room lit up with flashes from a few iPhone cameras. “Goddamn it!” roared Walrus, turning around. “This is supposed to be a secure meeting! Turn those damn phones off!” The phones promptly went dark. I should have made them check their phones at the door, Zaftig thought with a sardonic inner smile. He turned to his audience and smiled, all innocence. “Gentlemen,” he said, his voice bubbling with feigned surprise and ill-concealed glee. It was all going just as he had hoped – that is, except for the question of Casey’s I.Q., a subject he fully wished to stonewall for the evening. “I apologize. I didn’t consider the fact that you might be offended. I wanted to personally display Casey for you in his full magnificence.” His eyes glinted towards Dr. Shaft, who was pulling nervously at his tie. “What do you think, Dr. Shaft?” he asked. “Impressive. Most impressive,” Shaft mumbled. Zaftig took a few steps around Casey, who towered over him. “Casey, front lat spread,” he ordered quietly, and Casey’s pose shifted, his fists tucked in his sides, his pecs raising up, and his impossible lats flaring wide. He still gazed straight ahead. “Side chest.” Casey pivoted sharply left on his heel and brought his left arm up behind him. He caught the wrist of his right arm at the small of his back and cocked the heel. His triceps ballooned as his pecs expanded. His cock had quivered a little with the turn, and it slowly swayed and came to rest. “Casey’s chest measures 68 inches. Let’s see your back, Private,” Zaftig went on. Casey pivoted again, and there they were – the huge glutes, huge, hard and full. He tucked his hands into his obliques and his blew his lats to their widest expanse. Next to Sam, Tyler was fumbling a little with his fly. Sam didn’t even bother now to arrange his package. His erection thumped in his slacks, poling outward. He glanced at the other aides. Growing bulges were appearing in all their trousers. “Thank you, Casey, you can turn back now. As Casey turned around, Zaftig paced casually. “I see you all may have noticed Casey’s unusually large, well-developed organ,” Zaftig said offhandedly. “Casey, and indeed, all of the men you see here tonight have been blessed in much the same way. Do you feel blessed, Casey?” Private Rockland, surprised to be spoken to again, snapped into attention. “Sir, yes, sir,” he said, his eyes straight ahead. Zaftig turned a little and winked at the group. “And you’re blessed for what reason, Casey?” Zaftig asked. “Sir, that I have a big penis, sir,” said Casey. Holy Shit, Batman, thought Sam. Next to him he could see Tyler staring at Casey as if hypnotized. Zaftig laughed. “An unusually big penis, Private Rockland. Sergeant Moster?” he boomed suddenly. From 1st place in the line up, the Prototypes leader, the huge black super heavyweight, who had entered the room first, stood at sudden attention. “Yes, Dr. Zaftig!” he barked. “Are you blessed, too, Sergeant?” “I am even more blessed than Private Casey, Sir!” “And why is that?” “I am more blessed because both my muscles and my penis are even bigger than Private Casey’s, Sir!” “How much more blessed are you than Private Casey?” “Much more blessed, Sir!” Moster shouted. “Splendid. Thank you, Sergeant Moster. Men?” “Yes, sir!” they shouted in unison. “Are you all blessed, soldiers?” “Yes, sir! We’re all blessed, sir!” This is too much, thought Sam. I’ve died and gone to heaven. He shot a look to Walrus. The old man can’t take much more of this, he thought. “Casey, please demonstrate with a full routine of mandatory poses. Start with front double biceps.” “Yes, sir!” Casey complied, silently reeling off pose after pose. “You should all be aware, gentlemen,” Zaftig went on, “that we have remanded Casey – and all of the men, in fact - from any sexual encounters of any kind.” Behind the posing Casey, the musclemen stared straight ahead, and made no move. No one even snickered. No sex? What was that? Hunh? Sam turned and stared at Casey. He hadn’t wavered, but again he turned his eyes full on Sam. His face was blank, his look impossible to read. Was it an invitation? A threat? Or nothing at all? Sam just didn’t know. He glanced down at the impressive cock filling out the tight spandex posers, and brought his eyes back up. Casey, now in a most muscular crab pose, shot a quick look at him, and glanced down at his own package shyly. His gaze returned, quizzical, wondering. “Sexual relationships are a distraction. Because the men all have needs, as do all humans, we have organized regularly scheduled periods of masturbation. Dr. Irving and Sergeant Moster lead these sessions, under the most extremely controlled laboratory settings. The necessary psychological stimulant material for each man varies, of course. The confidential information has been determined by Dr. Irving in collaboration with Sergeant Moster, and is applied to each subject through headphones and situational simulating helmets calibrated individually. These sessions are critical, as each man has an average ejaculation proponent of the equivalent of six quarts per week.” “Okay, now I know that’s goddamn impossible,” grumbled Walrus. Sam was dazzled. The rest of the group was too stunned to speak. Sweat was now pouring down Dr. Shaft’s face. Ensign Tyler turned beet red. Two or three aides were taking frantic notes. The others just stood and stared and tried to ignore their crotches. “The men you see before you all have Casey’s extreme gifts. In different proportions, different heights, weights, and ages perhaps, and at different bodyweights. But all have the same superbly developed physiques and physical skills. Men!” he said suddenly, turning to the group. “Strip down, please.” The men seemed to hesitate. All looked to Sergeant Moster. “You heard the man,” he growled. “Kick ‘em off!” He began to unbuckle his belt. At his command, all of the men remaining the line-up began to strip. The tight t-shirts popped as if in unison as they were released from the massive upper body of each man. The boots were unlaced and pushed away. 19 belts hit the floor, and 19 pairs of skin tight white jeans followed. Beneath, all wore the same barely restraining white Spandex posers. Cocks and balls bulged forth, each man spilling half a foot of visible cock into barely sheathed pouches. Sam felt a dribble of precum shooting in his pants. “Arms behind backs!” barked Moster, clearly now the leader of the group. He turned to the audience and became one with his men. The Twenty placed their hands behind their lower backs. “Spread legs!” All spread their legs wide, shooting their right legs out in choreographed unison. In front, Casey did the same. “Prepare!” Fists clenched, crammed in solid obliques. “Front double biceps!” All arms slowly rose. And 40 cannonballs of enormous power ball biceps snapped into ungodly peaks. The men faced straight ahead, all eyes high and level, as if gazing into infinity. “Jesus,” breathed Walrus. He fumbled with his watch a moment. The lineup of 20 men stood before the small group, all flexing with massive front double biceps power. “Sergeant Moster, step forward please,” said Zaftig. “Next to Casey. The rest of you, hold the biceps pose.” The black muscle god brought his arms down strode slowly across the room. As he moved, his half-covered organ swayed heavily from side to side in his posing pouch. Behind him, the lineup of men continued to flex without wavering. He stood next to Casey, and impossibly, appeared to tower over even him. Casey didn’t glance at Moster. He stood gazing straight ahead, his arms up and steadily holding biceps pose. “You’ll note that Moster is taller than Casey. He is, in fact, far and away the biggest man here – so he has become this squadron’s de facto leader. Moster is the old man of the group – how old are you, Moster?” “44, sir!” barked Moster. He stood beside Casey, flexing. His arms looked to top 29 inches in girth. Sam reacted with some surprise. Moster appeared to be no more than 27. “I have been working with Moster for more than a decade,” said Zaftig. “He weighs 390 pounds and is 7’ tall. When he first came to me a decade ago, in 2015, he was already an Olympian. It took us years to get the poison of those primitive muscle-enhancing drugs out of his system. But the results have enabled him to realize a depth of definition and a degree of strength unachieved as of yet in any of the other men. Moster,” he asked, turning to the sergeant, “let’s all see a little demonstration of your strength.” “Yes, sir!” Without hesitation, Moster brought his arms down and walked purposefully across the room to the doors marked ‘Showers’. He grabbed a single door and quite effortlessly ripped it from his hinges. Then he turned, door tucked under his right arm, and approached the group. Everyone backed away just a little. “This is circus stunt, Zaftig,” sneered a retreating Dr. Shaft. “Any circus strongman could do this. And how do we know the door was not prepared in advance?” Moster said nothing, but walked straight to Dr. Shaft. “Good evening, Dr. Shaft,” he said, winking. “Nice to see you again.” “Er – good evening, Rod – um, Sergeant. I didn’t mean anything personal…” “I’m sure of it,” said Moster. He flexed his left biceps for Shaft and smiled. Shaft stared at it and, not quite knowing what he was doing, licked his lips nervously. Moster rotated his fist back and forth and popped the biceps head a little. Then he brought his arm down, and offered the door. “Would you like to hold this, please?” He offered the door to Shaft. Shaft tried to take it, but the weight of it was too much for him. He dropped it to the floor, barely able to hold one corner. “How heavy would you estimate this door to be?” he asked politely. The others watched, slightly stunned. The musclemen remained serene. “I…I don’t know…. 80 pounds?” “This door, with hardware, weighs 108 pounds. How thick would you say the wood to be?” Moster’s questions were politely posed. “Two inches?” “The door is actually 2-7/8s inches thick.” Moster took it back from him as if taking a feather. He held it up before him with both hands. Zaftig suppressed a smile. He knew what Moster had planned. Sergeant Rod Moster began ripping the door in two, just as if he was tearing paper. The wood roared in protest. Rrr-ii—ii-pppp! In 10 seconds he was done, each thick hand holding a splintered shard of door. In what seemed a single move, he suddenly hurled each section of the door away from him – in opposite directions. Each door half flew 20 feet across the room and slammed into the floor with echoing clatters. It was too much for Zaftig’s audience. Ensign Tyler moaned, and Sam knew the jerk had just shot a load in his pants. He wasn’t alone. A few quiet cries rose from the group. Sam held back. He always did have great control. He grinned and winked at Tyler, who at least had the class to grin back and shrug. “Shit happens,” he murmured to Sam. Sam chuckled. “Not to me,” he said. The rest of the crowd was in something like mass hysteria. “Damn it, Zaftig,” shouted Walrus. “You’ve gone too far!” “Why?” asked Zaftig calmly. “After all, it was our door.” Behind him, the 19 other men did not move, frozen, legs spread wide, holding their mighty biceps pose. Sam knew they couldn’t have helped but realize that about 10 men watching them had just cum in their pants. The men in the audience looked miserably down at the cream spreading across their uniformed trousers. Tyler glanced helplessly at Sam. And still, Sam had not cum. He had more control. He grinned at Tyler. Tyler shrugged and smiled. Oh, well, he mouthed. Admiral Walrus was not one of them, either. In fact, he had had it. “Zaftig, I want to talk with you!” he screamed. “Now!! In your office. Gentlemen, you will accompany me.” He turned to the enlisted men. “Men, wait for us outside. And,” – he couldn’t help himself - “it would seem that a couple of you babies need to go clean yourselves up. Ensign Victor! You stay here.” “Relax, Men,” said Zaftig. All brought their arms to their sides. “Men, get dressed. Sergeant Moster, take the men back to their rooms. We’re done for this evening.” The shooters in the audience were humiliated but relieved at the same time, more than half of them looking around a little sheepishly. “The rest room is down the hall,” said Dr. Irving. Eight men, Dr. Shaft among them, headed to the door. "Shaft, you're going nowhere," barked Walrus. Dr. Shaft stopped in the door and waited, shifting from foot to foot, the cream from his shriveled little cock melting into his skinny thighs. “You heard the man,” ordered Moster. “Pick it up! Let’s get moving!” The musclemen relaxed, Bent and gathered their clothes. Adjusted huge cocks in posers. Casey turned slowly and walked back to his own pile of discarded clothing. As he went, he absent-mindedly scratched the back of his head. Sam watched him go. His glutes rolled his boulders as he paddled, bow-legged, across the floor. Sam watched his mammoth, perfect butt as he went. It’s all a little confusing, isn’t it, Casey boy? Sam thought to himself. Don’t you know what just happened? Is it all a little more than you can understand, son? Casey picked up his clothes and shambled back into line with the others. He glanced again at Sam, and for the first time Sam noted that Casey was just a little bit cross-eyed. “Why, you poor dumb baby,” Sam said softly to himself. “You’re just a kid, aren’t you?” The musclemen filed out of the lab through the splintered empty doorway. Walrus grabbed Sam’s sleeve and took him aside. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but I sure as hell intend to find out,” he snarled, looking back at Zaftig, who was conferring with Dr. Irving. He turned to the Ensign. “Sam, you’re smart. I want you to slip away from the group and track down some of these guys. Start with that blond big boy. Find out his story. What the hell is he, a test tube baby? Zaftig’s lab rat? No grown man should be walking around this goddamn bunker wearing only a little white handkerchief with his fucking balls hanging out, flexing and posing for himself in the mirror.” “Yes, sir. I don’t see any mirrors, sir.” “Damn it, man, don’t take me so literally. That’s what this big bodybuilder guys do, just walk around all day long flexing their muscles for themselves in the mirror. It’s goddamn gay, that’s what it is. The military doesn’t need that –“ “Actually, sir –“ “Don’t interrupt me. Okay, it doesn’t matter if he’s gay or not, if you’re going to get all P.C. on me, but I want to know who the hell these men are and what Zaftig has them doing. These aren’t soldiers from any regular Army I know about. They’d be hopeless in the Navy.” “I believe Zaftig is also in talks with the SEALS.” “Is he now? Is he now? Fine, let it be their problem. But in the mean time I want to know what this so-called protocol is. It isn’t natural! It isn’t even human.” “They looked pretty human to me, sir.” “Project Herculaneum. My ass. Group discipline shot to hell. Go ahead, get moving. I want you to follow these men and find out something about them. Even if it isn’t taxpayer money, this facility ought to be shut down. Goddamn it!” Sam wondered for a moment why the old man was so enraged. Old man sure has a bug up his butt. Hmmm. What’s that about? He let it go for the moment, filing it away as back-story, to be continued. Zaftig approach. “Admiral Walrus. Shall we go to my office? I believe you want to discuss what you’ve just seen.” Behind him Dr. Irving was unlocking a drawer and pulling out files, checking them hurriedly. I wonder what he’s looking for, thought Sam. “You’re goddamn right I want to discuss it. Men, follow me.” Half his retinue had already left the room for the nearest men's room, to take care of cleaning up - and perhaps more business. “Goddamn it!” he swore again. He started to head back to the auditorium. "Shaft, you're coming with me!" "Yes, sir," said Dr. Shaft weakly. “Admiral Walrus?” said Zaftig with preternatural sweetness. “This way.” He started toward a far door. “My office is just through here.” He walked to the door without looking back. The others hesitated and glanced at Walrus, who stared for a moment, and then stomped after Zaftig. Drs. Shaft and Irving followed hurriedly behind. As Walrus went he turned back to Sam. “Get moving, Ensign.” “Yes, sir. With pleasure, sir.” "I mean now!" "I'm on my way, sir." And he went through the door down the long, white corridor, where only moments before, the twenty muscle giants had disappeared.

Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets Chapter 17: The Presentation February 10th, 2018 2000 Hours “Rose, dim the lights, and please – please leave us alone. Lock the auditorium doors behind you when you leave so we won’t be disturbed. Does everything have everything they need? Wi-Fi connection good? And Rose….tell Dr. Irving to bring the men upstairs to the lab. We’ll be ready for them in about 30 minutes.” A crisp response in the affirmative. The auditorium lights dimmed. There was a tapping of sensible heels, and the double doors at the back of the Valhalla Laboratories Assembly Hall opened and shut quietly. The lock clicked. Dr. Ira Zaftig cleared his throat, took a drink of water, and looked out serenely at his audience. He clicked his remote. The screen lit up, the light spilling out into the chrome and concrete bunker auditorium. “Are we ready, Gentlemen? Good evening. Welcome to Valhalla Labs.” The Valhalla logo glowed on the 20’ screen. Zaftig’s calm voice echoed darkly into the far regions of the room. “Gentlemen, I know you’ve had a long day. Flying in from Washington, checking into your quarters, touring the facility grounds, and now, after that splendid dinner, I know you’re curious to see the results of our mutual contract with the United States military and the Joint Chiefs. The unveiling, in fact, of our great 15-year initiative.” The five Officers in the front row murmured quietly. Out of courtesy, one or two nodded. Admiral Walrus, the Joint Chief Chair and Committee head, was seated dead center. He said nothing. He waited. Well behind the officers in the half-light sat a row of junior officers and young aides in attendance to the brass. “We here at Valhalla Labs know that we have achieved stunning success. We’re proud to be able to share it with you tonight.” Zaftig spoke easily, confidently. He clicked the remote again, and the first slide came into view. In their swivel chairs, the five Pentagon Officers sat back and turned their attention to the image on the screen. And then they stared. “Jesus, Zaftig, what the hell is this?” demanded Admiral Walrus. “Gentlemen, I give you Prototype 1-A of Project Herculaneum, Specimen Casey: Mr. Casey Rockland.” The image of an impossibly huge, muscled behemoth of a young man was on the screen, presented in four views: front, left, right, and rear. He was squared-jawed, thick-necked, blue-eyed, and handsome, with a deeply cleft chin and full, luscious lips. His arms hung at his side, and his legs were spread confidently well apart. His gaze was centered straight ahead, his jaw set firm with business-like grimness, his head erect. His waist was impossibly slender, given the mass above and below, perhaps 29 inches. His cobblestone abs rippled insanely. His posture was that of a classic anatomy chart. Every vein, every muscle appeared to pulse right off the screen. The young man was clean-shaven. He had a short blond military crew cut, but his eyebrows were thick, dark black, and lustrous. The left brow was slightly elevated with cocky arrogance. His face set him at about 19 years, but the muscle density of his enormous physique made it difficult to precisely age him. Seated in the dark behind the officers, Ensign Sam Victor, Admiral Walrus’ coolly handsome young personal aide de camp, looked evenly up at the screen and took in the image of the young muscleman with cool calm. The muscle boy’s skin – for he was, with his angelic face, little more than a boy, at least in years - was shrink-wrapped over the most astonishing display of musculature Sam had ever seen. Every muscle group, every vein, every cut, every separation stood prominently sculpted, in separate relief from the adjacent muscle group. He wore only the briefest of posing trunks, which sagged deeply to expose the gently curving, then plummeting, upper 6 inches of his tawny-colored, vein-lined penis. His oversized ball sac bulged ferociously in the heavy pouch. The Joints Chiefs were stunned. In the front-view image on the far left, subject Casey Rockland displayed hugely rounded, shining, mountainous pectoral muscles, gleaming with powerful deep furrows of striations, punctuated with thick dark brown, 3-inch sand dollar-sized nipples, poutily pointing downward. His broad shoulders, thick powerful traps and heavy delts looked as if the boy could easily carry a 600 pound bull around a corral. His lats spread almost horizontally behind him like the outspread wings of an eagle. The mighty 3-headed biceps were triple slabs of muscle on each arm, huge beyond all reasoning, the forearms laced with networks of half and quarter-inch iron thick veins. The boy held his enormous hands at his sides, his heavy fingers and thick thumbs crooked slyly inward towards his bulging crotch. Smokestack quads rippled and burst with muscle, and he was supported by a set of calves that ballooned behind him. His feet were enormous, with large thick toes and perfectly groomed nails. His tanned skin glowed with health. Sam assumed the subject’s teeth were probably perfect, too, but for the moment his gaze was leveled just below Casey’ rippling midsection. Well, well, he thought. Let’s just look you over, now. Just who are you, buddy? Superman? Captain America? Tiny Yokum? Johnny Holmes? Naw. This was no cartoon character. No porn star. But no superfreak that Sam had ever encountered before – and he had known many – could boast the cock this boy had. Between his legs in the front view hung a monster penis, less than half covered by the straining, flimsy Spandex posing trunks. The top half of Casey’s shaft was plainly visible. The trunks loomed heavily with the outlined round bulge and piss slit of his cock head. The generals were now murmuring loudly in shocked disapproval. Admiral Walrus just sat and stared. Behind them in the darkness, most of the aides and junior officers avoided one another’s glances. A few men gazed meekly down into their laps, looking up only furtively with appreciative eyes. A few stared outright. “This specimen, gentlemen,” intoned Zaftig’s voice out of the dark, “or, if you prefer, Private 1st Class Casey Rockland, is at present only one the world’s most perfectly-developed men. There are, of course, 19 other specimens.” Sam let out a low whistle. Ensign Tyler, to his immediate left, caught it. “There are 20 of these dudes?” Sam murmured to Tyler. “There’s a challenge for you, Sam. Never known you to turn your back on a challenge.” Tyler responded. “Shut the fuck up, Tyler, or no play time later.” Tyler smiled sardonically but said no more. Sam leaned back to enjoy the view. His brought his big hands behind his head, and leaned back in his seat to contemplate. He focused on the image of Casey’s crotch and allowed himself to dream, if just a little. Casey’s testicles bulged heavy and full in the sac of white Spandex, and the top quarter of the shaft of the penis spilled out and curved visibly downward before being enmeshed in the barely restraining pouch. The cock appeared flaccid, but no matter: the thickness was like tube of a flashlight, and the cock head bulged and pointed down with insistent heaviness. Under the thin sheath of Spandex, Sam could make out the long, curling, resting shaft, the rim of the bulbous cock head, the bulging cock head itself, the inviting piss slit, and the 2-softball scrotum. Curled tufts of iron black pubic hair spilled out from beneath the poser’s tightly hemmed edges. The poser straps strained mid-hips, threatening to burst from the weight. In the left and right side views, thick horseshoe triceps rippled along the battlefield-ready arms, their huge round sweep arcing backward. His pecs bloomed mightily, those taut brown nipples still tantalizingly pointing down. Lower, brick-like washboard abdominal muscles tapered into that impossibly slender yet powerful, vascular waistline. His obliques curved up and outward with menacing power. The roundness of the hard butt and the sweep of Casey’s hamstrings jutted past the back of the line of his head. In the rear view, his deltoids upended mightily blending into mountainous traps, soaring into a thick network of back muscle. His legs were spread wide. Two tight globes of thick, oblong gluteus muscle curved below a rock-solid butt shelf of power. His rocky butt glistened with sweat and oil: a blissfully full, solid, fatless furnace of power. Each splendidly ripped butt cheek appeared to be glancing slightly to the side, barely opening the center spread. Mr. Rockland’s poser was as inadequate going as it was coming, and unable to hide the deep red cherry butthole, which glowed invitingly around the right edge of the tight thin strap that traveled and sank into deep, darkened buttcrack. Below, the exponentially huge, shaped and separated hamstrings exploded, supported by freaky split calf muscles. Get a grip, Victor, Sam thought to himself. It’s just a picture. In his loose white Navy uniform slacks, Sam felt his own cock twitch longingly. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and reaching down surreptitiously beneath his regulation belt, his slipped his hand into his rapidly knotting underwear. He rearranged his package. Next to him, Tyler was doing the same thing. They caught each other’s eyes, and in spite of themselves had to suppress immediate blasts of explosive mirth. “Quiet, back there!” barked Walrus. Then: “We came here tonight to see a fucking muscleman?” he said dangerously to Zaftig. Tyler was suddenly seized with a fit of coughing, and Sam busied himself with his laptop, seemingly taking serious notes. Lucky he thought to bring it, he mused. It was covering a fierce erection, now pushing protestingly out of his tight uniform trousers. “I think you’ll find all the men interesting, Admiral Walrus. This specimen, Casey Rockland is 19 years old. He is 6’- 7” tall,” said Zaftig, now in full control. “He weighs 335 pounds. Casey was enrolled in the project formally only a few months ago, when he was just 18. Already he has made extraordinary gains.” Sam noted that the men on either side of him seemed to be breathing more heavily. His cock stirred heavily in his pants, and Tyler was still fooling around with something in his lap. He glanced down the line. Even in the half-light of auditorium he could see that all of the men were beginning to sprout fierce trouser trouts. Even the straight men. “Hmmm,” he thought to himself. “I wonder…” Zaftig continued. “Casey has 1.5% bodyfat. He’s in splendid health, his heart very slightly enlarged perhaps, but his blood pressure holds at an even 130/80. Casey’s lungs are clear. To our knowledge, he has never in his life smoked a cigarette. He can run almost 30 miles per hour for 2 to 3 hours at a stretch. He bench-presses 800 pounds, and can easily perform single arm curls at 160 pounds. He squats easily with 500 pounds, and has been known to do deadlifts of 600 pounds in a set of 25 repetitions.” Zaftig coughed modestly. “Casey is also an accomplished gymnast, and can hold an iron cross on the rings without moving for 5 minutes. His extreme flexibility enables him to land from a flying dismount into a full 180 degree split.” Baby, breathed Sam to himself. Come to daddy. He licked his lips just a little. Tyler was taking short, shallow breaths, as if he was hyperventilating. “Calm down,” Sam chuckled to Tyler, who was trying in vain to appear neutral. Tyler elbowed him sharply. “You calm down…” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. Sam smiled and ignored him. “Go, man, go!” came a breathless voice from down at the end of the row. Clearly Sam and Tyler weren’t the only men excited by what they were seeing. Zaftig clicked his remote. A new slide appeared with Casey holding a front double biceps pose. “Casey has 26 inch biceps,” Zaftig continued. “His waistline measures 30” after a heavy meal. His quadriceps are 32 inches, and his chest, when expanded, measures a rather staggering 69 inches. His calves and his forearms are, respectively, 20 inches and 25 inches.” Yes, I was going to ask about Casey’s dimensions, Sam thought wickedly. He glanced right and left and observed his colleagues were probably wondering, with various degrees of personal interest, the same thing. “He eats 8 times a day, about 15,000 calories daily, a special diet of lean meat protein, clean animal fat, and low carbs. He drinks between 5 to 8 gallons of water during the course of a normal day. He trains 4 days a week, and the other three days he is required to remain at full body rest and in meditation, so that his body may fully recover and continue the growth process. His workouts are not shade less than brutal. Still, we are very careful not to overtrain any of the men, but because of Casey’s particular passion for heavy bodybuilding, in his case, we have to be unusually strict and watchful. He’d be in the gym day and night if we allowed it. Fortunately, over the years, we’ve learned better.” “I’ll bet you have,” thought Sam. “Casey’s also a black belt in karate and could be a champion extreme fighter – that is, if I ever let him out of the lab.” Zaftig smiled devilishly. “He has a mean left hook,” he added. “He can knock a 250 pound man unconscious with a single punch. His vision far better than 20/5 – what you can see at 5 feet, he can see at 20. Casey doesn’t drink or do drugs. And he has never in the three years we have worked with him here at Valhalla had so much as a gram of processed sugar. In short, gentlemen, Casey Rockland is a perfectly-developed male specimen.” One of the 1-star generals on the Committee blurted out. “Doesn’t do drugs,” General Needling echoed, as if appalled. “That’s a steroided physique if I ever I saw one!” he shouted. Walrus frowned. Another officer, General Wampum, added his harsh agreement. “He’s Ahhh-nold,” came a deep voice from somewhere in the junior officer row. “I’ll beeee beck.” Some chuckles, immediately silenced when Walrus, without turning around, sharply lifted an index finger to one ear. The men were clearly covering their growing excitement with feeble jokes. Zaftig continued. “On the contrary, gentlemen, there are no contraband controlled substances anywhere in Casey’s bloodstream. He’d test negative for any drug. No growth hormone, no insulin, no pain blockers. Nothing synthetic. I assure you there have never been any sort of street drug protocols at any time in Casey’s extraordinary development. Casey receives nightly injections of P-21, Valhalla Labs patented muscle-building enzyme, painstakingly developed by our technicians a decade ago, and unavailable to the general public. All of Project Herculaneum’s subjects receive nightly injections. There are no negative side-effects of any kind to P-21.” He paused for effect. “And it is not a steroid.” Zaftig let that sink in. Admiral Walrus snorted. He didn’t believe a word of this crap. He’d had enough, and the meeting wasn’t 3 minutes old. “What the hell are you talking about, Zaftig?” demanded Walrus. “Is this how you’ve been spending your Pentagon contract? Is this what you’ve brought us across the country from D.C. to see? A muscleman?! Some gym freak? Goddamn it, man!” “Admiral Walrus, sir, “ said Zaftig, his voice lowered to easy familiarity, “let’s just look at the facts. Casey Rockland is no ‘gym freak.’ He’s not simply “a muscleman.” Casey is the result of years of pain-staking research, protocols, hard-core training, and delicate systemic honing. He and the other 19 men we are presenting to you tonight are uniquely developed physically perfect beings. They are trained to exert control in all situations, and to follow orders to the letter. To the letter, I might repeat.” I can think of a few orders I could issue, thought Sam, shifting in his seat. Once again, his twitching cock was beginning to bind in his shorts. He mused if such wishful thinking might indeed have a payoff. The Generals murmured in low tones to Walrus, who nodded fiercely. “He looks – what did you call it?” Needling whispered again to Walrus. “He looks Photoshopped! How do we know this is real? No man looks like this!” Zaftig turned and faced the group. “Gentlemen, I assure you, there’s no trickery here,” he confided with a touch of theatricality. “Zaftig, this is a waste of our time.” Walrus started to get up as if to leave. The other officers stirred, hesitating. Zaftig resumed pacing. “Gentlemen, I confess, I’m disappointed. In fact, I’m speechless. You think this is all pure speculation?” He gestured at the figure on the screen. “Theory? Scientifically uncertain? Wish fulfillment, perhaps? Photoshop?” He paused for effect, and turned to a tall, lanky, owl-like man hovering at the end of the first row. “Dr. Shaft? Perhaps you might confirm to the Admiral…..?” He waited smugly. The Joint Chiefs personal physician, Dr. Shaft, was invariably called in as a paid expert on any matter remotely medical, for which service he balanced his time between coasts, living half his life with his annoying socialite wife of 35 years in an impressive Chevy Chase McMansion near the Washington, D.C. beltway, the other in a smaller, more secluded ocean-front home off the Pacific Palisades. Shaft had remained silent and withdrawn up to now. He turned meekly to Admiral Walrus, cleared his throat and spoke nervously. “Admiral Walrus….requesting your indulgence, sir, but Dr. Zaftig is quite correct. Casey – and the other 19 muscle specimens – does indeed exist. And his specifications and dimensions are just as Dr. Zaftig is presenting them to be tonight.” Walrus grunted. “After all, Admiral Walrus,” said Zaftig smoothly, “Dr. Shaft is your own representative in Project Herculaneum.” “And they’re all living here in this compound?” he demanded. “Now? Tonight?” “Yes, sir. They’re all in residence here at Valhalla Labs. You can see them for yourself in a few minutes, if you wish. In fact, we have planned on it.” A moment passed. Walrus resumed. “Get on with it, then,” he muttered. “It’s a waste of my time, but get on with it.” He snorted. “Admiral Walrus, sir,” said Dr. Shaft, placating him with superior charm. “Dr. Zaftig and the team at Valhalla are indeed introducing a species of super-beings. I have had the opportunity to personally review them myself in the not-too-distant past.” For years, Dr. Shaft had upon occasion enjoyed the discreet company of out of town young male visitors from Venice, California in his West Coast home, whose ‘careers’ on the bodybuilding competition stage he had generously funded. When Zaftig’s informant, one retired pro bodybuilder by the name of Miles Donovan, revealed Shaft’s little secret, Zaftig knew he had an ally, if an unwilling one, amongst the Joint Chiefs. He’d played his cards right, and covertly brought Shaft in months before for an unofficial unveiling. Shaft had been stunned into fawning speechlessness, and gratefully accepted a deal in exchange for support. Zaftig found the man useful but repugnant. And now - review the men? Is that what he calls it? “Let’s not exaggerate, Dr. Shaft. I haven’t created a species. After all, I’m not Victor Frankenstein,” Zaftig said humorously. “Aren’t you?” asked Dr. Shaft. “Who are they? Where did they come from?” asked General Wampum, glaring at Shaft. “They all came to me on their own at different times during the last 18 years,” replied Dr. Zaftig. “On their own, they were already splendid specimens, ranging in age from 18 to 40. Though I searched them all out personally, no one was recruited. Moreover, their dedication to this project is unquestioned.” Zaftig’s audience began to murmur. “This is crazy,” said Wampum. “Crazy?” Zaftig responded, his voice raising. “Crazy, you say? I assure you, General Wampum, these men are real and at the height of their development.” The officers all seemed to speak at once. “Perhaps, to satisfy your doubts, I might pause and take some of your questions now.” “They’re volunteers?” “Are they soldiers or civilians?” “What are their backgrounds?” “How about their general health? Are they medical freaks?” “Are they even Americans?” Walrus demanded to know. “Are they even human?” asked Wampum. “Dr. Zaftig, I have a question.” Sam raised his hand. Walrus half turned, but nodded, permitting the question. Ensign Victor may look like just a pretty boy, but he has brains and guts, Walrus thought. His gesture silenced the group, and he allowed the Ensign the floor with a slight nod of his head. “You haven’t mentioned I.Q. How sharp is Casey’s intellect?” For the first time so far that evening, Zaftig seemed to hesitate. He recovered instantly, but Sam caught momentary crack in the façade. “Casey has the normal requirements of intelligence for a gifted soldier,” he answered. Aha. “This man’s a soldier? He’s enlisted in the US Army?” demanded Admiral Walrus. General Wampum preened a little. “Casey Rockland holds the rank of Private 1st Class in the US Army,” repeated Zaftig, but offered no more information. “Dammit, Wampum, why didn’t you know this?” Walrus demanded. General Wampum stopped preening and slumped in his seat. General Needling came to his defense. “We didn’t know any more about this than you did, Walrus,” he growled. Zaftig turned back to the image of flexing Casey, resuming his presentation as if nothing had happened. He brought his pointer up, lightly touching the tip to the biceps of the left arm. “Note the triple biceps head,” he continued. “The unusually separated deltoids, and the dynamically thick trapezius muscles.” His pointer lightly tapped each muscle group as he spoke. “You see the unusually dense vascularity. Also, pay special attention to Casey’s thin skin. Men with this low bodyfat are often cold, their own bodies incapable of supplying sufficient heat, and their skin can be fragile. Casey is never cold. His metabolism prevents it. And his skin is as tough as rawhide.” I’ll just bet, thought Sam. Zaftig clicked through a series of images showing Casey stripped down in different posing straps, in a various array of training room shots and routines. He lingered on a final image of Casey in a deep leg squat, a barbell of several hundred pounds weight resting easily on his shoulders. His hams were so thick they almost touched the floor. Behind him his butt curved powerfully upward. Far from grimacing at the colossal weight, Casey’s handsome face appeared serene. The auditorium pinged with tense silence. The officers stared hard at Dr. Zaftig. Zaftig gazed calmly back, his mouth now a thin line of determination. Behind him at the head of the table, the screen was frozen with Casey in deep squat suspension, the only light in the dimmed room. Zaftig resumed airily. “Casey Rockland and the other 19 perfectly-developed specimens not only are living and training full time in this very facility, they’re thriving. Within this very complex, these 20 perfect men completed their second shift in another day’s hard training protocol 30 minutes ago. They’ve showered and changed two levels below us while we’ve been talking. In fact, they’re not more than 100 feet away from where you’re sitting now.” Sam’s ears perked up. Zaftig placed his palms on the dais table and leaned in towards the uniformed officers. “I am ready to present them to you now, if you wish.” He let the statement sink in for impact, and pushed away from the table. Behind the Generals and Admiral Walrus, the Junior Officers shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. All except Sam. This is getting interesting, he thought. “Perhaps I should do just that,” Dr. Zaftig said, “We might amend the agenda tonight. I think we need to break a little early. You all probably want to see the results for yourselves. Only then can you make an informed determination for your report.” He crossed toward the stage apron and turned to the group. “If you will all will be so good as to accompany me into the lab?” Confusion. The officers look dumbly at one another. Even Walrus said nothing. No one moved. Zaftig clicked his remote again, and the screen rose. “Dr. Irving?” he called out, climbing the stairs to the stage. “We’re coming into the lab now. Get the men ready.” He flicked some switches on a panel and the stage lights came up. At the back of the stage, a white-coated lab technician appeared, opening double doors. Beyond, the white glare of Valhalla Laboratories was revealed. “Admiral Walrus, Dr. Shaft, General Needling, Gentlemen: if you’ll all follow me.” Zaftig turned without a backward glance and crossed the stage to the opened lab doors. He turned and beckoned the group to follow him. A moment later the group rose, and with some uncomfortable putting away of laptops which had been hiding bulges, and with embarrassing shifting of slacks and trousers, which told the telltale signs of arousal, they crossed the stage and entered the lab. And with the notable exceptions of Walrus and Wampum, Zaftig noted with some satisfaction, that every man in uniform was sporting a straight-ahead trouser trout bulge. ******* Click below for the next chapter! "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - Inside Zaftig's Lab: The Musclemen Revealed

The Price is Buff - Second Half by F_R_Eaky PART ONE IS REBROADCAST AT: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/8421-the-price-is-buff/ ************************************************************** "Hello, this is Brian Keane and welcome back to the second half of The Price is Buff. But we can't start again as we seem to be missing something. Johnny, do you know what is missing?" "Of course I do, Brian. It's..... JUSTIN WATHEN! COME ON DOWN! YOU'RE THE NEXT CONTESTANT ON THE PRICE IS BUFF!" Vuk and Connor looked around like the rest of the audience members did to see who was called and would head down to compete next. It was actually quite a tall man, around six foot eight inches tall, and slightly buff too. He strutted down to Contestant's Row, his spiky golden brown hair bouncing slightly, his smile big and bright white with perfectly straight teeth. His body filled out his duplicate NBA tank top like he was the pro it was made for, while the lower portion was covered in mesh shorts that were long enough on him they almost looked more like Capris. He found the empty spot he was to fill and the show continued. "Now, Justin, I bet you and everyone else will enjoy bidding on this!" The second half of the show was kind of a let-down, for the first two winning contestants at any rate, or any pervert who was aware enough to observe and notice what was happening to contestants when they won. There was Mary who took over Jason's spot after he won, and Carrol who took over James' spot after he won. Both were middle aged women one being slightly overweight and the other being obese, although otherwise they both had attempted to take care of themselves and their looks. Mary was given the Clock Game to play for a chance to win a set of high fashion swim suits and tanning bed, which if she won both then awarded her the bonus prize of a trip to Fuente Juvenil, Florida via Ponce de Leon Vacations. Unfortunately Mary had no clue as to the price of high fashion swim wear and took up twenty-eight seconds out of her allotted thirty to guess the correct price. She didn't really even get a chance to start bidding on the tanning bed. Carrol was invited to play Pathfinder for the chance to win a new car. Her game started her in the center of a large numbered board and she had to step onto the square that contained the next number in the price of the car. If she got any number wrong she had the chance to win a second guess by guessing the price of three smaller prizes. Sad for her, she didn't know the prices of any of them or the car. This next round the audience became more hushed and excited at the same time. It was the last chance out of six for any of the people in Contestant's Row to be able to get on stage and win a grand prize. Even worse for the next person called as this was their one and only chance to make it. Now in Contestant's Row there was from left to right, Justin who took Anita's place, poor Eric who had been there since the start of the show, the empty spot Carrol had just left vacant, and a lady named Schoenedra who took Mary's spot after Mary won her way on up. Everyone began craning their necks to look at other members of the audience. No... it wouldn't be that person, too simple looking. Nor that one as they were too quiet and demure looking. Anyone who has ever watched the show knew they always picked someone who stood out in some degree. Their body was either odd, extremely tall, short, built, fat, or their face was extremely goofy or handsome looking, or they were the beauty queen. If not that then their personality shown through like no-one's business: they wore a suit made of extremely loud fabrics, they were something from the fringe of society like a punk rocker or Goth person or the homosexual flamer, or they talked loudly or extremely quiet. They just has to be off in some way. Needless to say, no one glanced at either Vuk or Connor. The audience quieted down. Brian took his position center stage, and then calmly asked Johnny to fill his spot. "I don't know if I can do, Brian." "Why's that, Johnny?" "Oh it's a tongue twister... ... ... Gravel.... No.... Grovel.... uh-uh.... Garlic...." "You've done it again haven't you, Johnny? You're attempting to say it without the first name aren't you? Try it with that." "Yes, that'll probably make it better. I'll try that now...... ..... ..... VUK GAVRILOVIC! COME ON DOWN! YOU'RE THE NEXT CONTESTANT ON THE PRICE IS BUFF!" Vuk and Connor sat there motionless. Well, except for Connor who made one quick head jerk towards Vuk and then became slack-jawed petrified. "VUK COME ON DOWN!" It took a couple of people to notice his name tag and pushes and pulls to get Vuk out of his seat before he managed to snap to and run his way in his spot at Contestant's Row. He looked so small compared to the other contestants, including Schoenedra, but after the shock wore off there was that flash of spirit in his eyes and that smirk across his face that had attracted the attention of the producers from the beginning. "Welcome to Contestant's Row, Vuk. Took you a while to get down here." "Ah.... a-ha... Sorry, Brian. Just shocked I was called." "Interesting first name, Vuk. Well, first and last. Where is it from?" "It's Slavic region, Brian. My parents and I are originally from Serbia." "Serbiiiiiia.... well welcome to the US hope you and your parents are living the life here." "Thank you." "Now what would make that life even better? If you won the next item up for bids which is this...." "It's the Ultra Pro Body Groomer Kit, with the shock absorbing pivoting neck and head to help shave all the contours of your body, with adjustable trimmer head with seven length settings for detailed grooming of longer or shorter hair, including a power burst button for trimming through extra thick and coarse hair. Seven head attachments allow you to adjust the style of your regular haircut, leg shaving, beard trimming, or manscaping. A wax and oil heater to heat up quality massage oil or body wax with strips and rub down cloths. And a nail trimmer, foot buffer, and polisher to make your hands and feet silky smooth and your nails shine. Treat your body like a true spa professional. From Ultra Pro Groomers - Maintain the Mane!" Connor sat upright in his seat. Vuk had just a smattering of body hair around his nipples, his underarms, and his groin. Otherwise, if he had hair elsewhere, it was so fine it looked like he was as smooth as a baby's bottom all over. Part of the reason why Vuk and he still looked like prepubescent boys. Connor knew that Vuk wanted several things fantasy wise: 1. He wished he was taller, like a professional basketball player giant size. 2. He wished he had big, manly feet to go with the height. 3. He wished he was built like the incredible Hulk, and then some. 4. He wished he had balls so large that whenever he came he could shoot ropes, several ropes, of cum as long as the entire room. 5. That he had a massive cock to make horses cry, and... 6. That he was sexy hairy over his chest, abs, legs, and arms. Oh, if he could just win that prize. "Alright... we need to start off this last round of bidding. Vuk, what do you bid?" Vuk stood there lost in thought for a moment, but just before being called on a second time for his bid, he managed to stammer out, "Uhm....One Eighty-six!" [DING] "That was Vuk's...Schoenedra we now need your bid." "Uhm....One Eighty, Brian." [DING] "One Eighty from Scoenedra. Justin, we come back to you." "One Seventy-five!" [DING] "One seventy-five is Justin's exuberant bid. Finally we come back to Eric...poor Eric, who's been here since the beginning of the show. Will you finally get up here with your bid of...?" "One Seventy!" [DING] "Eric bids on hundred seventy dollars." [DING DING DING DING DING DING DING DING] "Oh... oh...well now... you all know what that sound means. It means one of you has bid the exact price of those products. That person wins an bonus of five-hundred dollars! The person who won that $500 is the person who bid..... .... .....One hundred eighty-six dollars! Vuk, it's you! You're the next person on stage." Connor jumped up and cheered as loudly as he could, but of course as soon as most of the audience stood to cheer Vuk's victory, Connor's whole body and his voice were obscured by all the taller people and their clothing. Still once they all settled, he got to watch as Brian turned around and said, "Vuk, what do you have to say about that last prize?" Vuk having been very observant knew exactly what to say.... "THAT'S MY PRIZE, BRIAN!" The lights suddenly dimmed down like they had before when a change was about to overcome someone. Vuk was standing there in as small of a men's t-shirt he could buy - he refused to buy in the children's section with the exception of shoes- deep burgundy color was the color, jean shorts, tennis shoes, and white tube socks pushed down to ankles. Vuk looked as though he went into a mild trance of some kind, staring off straight ahead into nothing. However, every once in a while he began to absent mindedly scratch himself. First it was on his arms, then an attempt to scratch his legs, then he kept rubbing his stomach and scratching his chest. Connor sat wide eyed watching Vuk and began to tent his pants harder than he ever did before. There, sprouting all over Vuk's body was hair.... hair the same color, thickness, density of his hair on top of his head: A few small strands appeared over the top of his feet, but then spread up and up, feathering out over his shin, calves, knees, thighs. Connor nearly blew a load right there in the studio as Vuk reached to scratch his crotch, and Connor nearly exploded imagining how the hair was coming in dark, dense, and curly around Vuk's balls and shaft. The hair then appeared lightly, just a dusting on the top of Vuk's hands before they moved up the arms and then created thick bushes under the arms in the pits. Finally Connor could guess from the rubbing the hair was growing, spreading up and out from the crotch to go over Vuk's abdomen, obliques and then his chest. The proof of that was when tuffs of hair began peeking out over the collar of Vuk's t-shirt. The frolicking follicles then travelled up Vuk's neck, over his chin, and spread out across his jaw line and upper lip creating a five o'clock shadow that came in at eleven in the morning. Last it seemed to travel up to Vuk's head for his hair, if at all possible, became longer and even thicker. If he wasn't so short, he would make one hell of a handsome, hairy model. The lights flickered back to their brightest and the show continued without a hitch. "Alright, my fine Slavic friend. You've won five-hundred dollars, and an excellent hair trimmer set, let's see if we can make your American dream even better by possibly winning this!...." "It's a whole package of prizes! First from Inspire Fitness' Home Gym, this personal gym features a one hand adjustable pole position achieving thirty-eight different positions and heights for various arm, leg, chest, and ab workouts with up to as much as two hundred fifty pounds of maximum resistance. "Second, it's a Infamous Lenz modeling and or head shot & boudoir shot package that comes complete with head shot pose and boudoir/modeling poses with three outfit changes, each containing an 8 x 10, two 5 x 7's, and 8 wallet sizes, plus 100 copies of your modeling/actor's head shot. Boudoir or Model Photos come in full color, the Modeling/Actor's head shot comes in black and white. "Third it's a collection of Addidas BB9T's Men's Mid-Top Basketball Shoes. Bringing back a nostalgic '90s look with these men's basketball shoes. Available in an array of colors, you'll win twelve pairs of shoes that contain great Addidas styling: Performance rubber cup-sole with translucent detailing, padded tongue and collar, OrthoLite comfort foam insole that wicks away moisture .Synthetic nubuck leather, mesh upper fabric lining, rubber midsole and outsole , lace-up closure, padded foot bed. Sizes up to sixteen. "And finally this five point three cubic beverage center by Danby with tempered glass shelves and door, good for holding all your protein shakes, natural juices, or bottles of wine. "Alright, Vuk. We're going to play the game, Danger Price. What that means is, under the game title up there, there is a price of $1370 dollars. That is the Danger Price. What you have to do is look and think about all those prizes and tell me which three of them do not, that's do NOT have the danger price. If you manage to do that you win all four prizes. Understand what I've told you, Vuk?" "Yes. I think I can do this." "Alright, tell me which one of the prizes is up there that you think is not one-thousand three hundred seventy dollars?" Members of the audience started shouting out which prize they thought wasn't the danger price, over powering Connor's small voice from being heard by Vuk. Vuk looked at the prizes studied and thought about them for just a bit and finally stammered, "Uhm.....the shoes." The audience roared with approval and Brian turned to the models and said, "He's says it's the shoes from Addidas. Hit that button to reveal a price of.....[DING!] $840! Good going, Vuk. Only two more correct choices and then you've won all four prizes. Which one is next? The Home Gym, Photo Package, or the Beverage center?" Vuk stood there staring hard at the other three gifts many people were shouting out "The Photos! The Photos!" but Vuk tried to think of all the times he had photos taken, or when out shopping for kitchen appliances with his mom, or how many times he wanted, lusted after getting a weight set so he could build up muscle and what the prices were for that. "Uhmmmm.... I'm gonna go with.... er..... the beverage center!" The audience roared a collective, but soft "oh" of disapproval thinking he had made a wrong choice. "I don't think the crowd agrees with you, Vuk. Are you sure that's your answer?" "Yes, Brian, it is." "Alright how much is the price of the beverage center, Mitchell? Show us please!" [DING] "You were right! You were right. You went against the popular vote of the crowd, stood your ground and you were right the beverage center is $1050. You only need to choose one more prize correctly and they are all yours. What will that prize be?" The audience more than ever shouted out the word, "Photos" just as loudly as they could. They chanted it so much, folks on the outside of the building would have thought there was a famous person, an athlete by the name of "Fotos" the crowd was waiting to see. Vuk stared hard at the two prizes left. He heard folks chant that photos aren't that expensive. They are nowhere near the price of a home gym. Vuk hemmed and hawed nervously wondering which prize he should pick. "I'm going to need an answer right now, Vuk. Which one do you think it is?" "Uhm.....oh..... I know this is against public opinion but I'm gonna go with the home gym." Again the crowd roared a collective, "OH" in disbelief. "The crowd doesn't believe, Vuk. The crowd thinks you're walking away with nothing. Let's see if that's true. Mitchell hit the button show us the price of the home gym.... ..... ....." [DING DING DING DING DING DING DING DING!] You did it! You won all three, Vuk! The home gym was $1,749, while the photo session and pictures' total was $1,370." "Yes! YES! That's my prize! Those are my prizes! Thank you, Brian! Oh man!" "At least we ended the second half of the Price is Buff on a high note. We'll be right back with the second Showcase Showdown after this!" The sound of sound coming to a slow halt was heard as the lights dimmed down again. Everyone in the studio seemed to slow down as though stuck in some kind of time warp. They still were moving, getting the wheel set up for the show case showdown, but they moved at the speed of turtles, maybe even snails. One person wasn't moving at a slug's pace and that was Vuk. Well, he wasn't really moving, but changes were occurring. There seemed to be a soft glow coming from the home gym and as it glowed and pulsed, Vuk appeared to grow. His shorts and shirt that were so large on him even though they were the smallest men's shirt he could find, draped and folded on him more like a set of drapes and valances than a sportsman's t-shirt or shorts. But now... now they began to stretch and pull tight. The folds began to pull taut and un-creased. Connor watched as a pleasurable look overcame Vuk's face. He peered as a ball began to form above the tops of Vuk's pushed down tube socks. It was his calves. They bunched and grew. They inflated and swelled. They became harder, denser, fuller, thicker and slightly veiny. They pulled at the hamstring making it tight and thick, which in turn caused the bicep femoris and the semitendinosis, or back thigh muscles began to inflate and well along with the frontal thigh muscles and Vuk's ass. It pulled the hem of his jean shorts up a little as well as pulling free every wrinkle there was, almost filling the shorts to bursting. The waist band and button came out next, not popping but getting pushed out and down a little bit as a slight layer of fat began to develop around Vuk's mid-section. This pushed the hem of his shirt up just a little higher as his tummy rounded just a titch and his chest began to raise and barrel more and more and more. Next came his lats causing the shirt to pull very tightly across his upper torso, but leaving loads of cloth and room around his abdomen. His deltoids, trapezius, and neck muscles filled out as well, creating ever increasing tension in the fabric of Vuk's t-shirt. On one hand the barreling of his chest began to stretch and pull his t-shirt collar down. The increasing width of his chest, shoulders, and lats pulled the shirt tighter and tighter across. Thus leaving a now larger area of chest cleavage exposed with ample amounts of chest hair showing. Finally his arms began to inflate like balloons being filled with helium and the effect moved down to the forearms as well. As his biceps and triceps grew and mounded they began to push the hem of his sleeve up into the groove of the upper arm and the deltoids. It didn't fully move there, getting caught on the upper part of the upper arm. Whenever Vuk moved his arm now the hem of the sleeve would stretch far and you could see the weave of the fabric stretch so tight it was near to ripping. As the light began to ebb from the home gym, Vuk was left standing there looking like a fairly well built man. Development wise he looked to be somewhere between a gymnast and a personal trainer. Shirts just enough of too tight that they could hold or they could pop at any breath. Veins criss-crossing all over his body, not too pronounced, but enough you knew he worked out. No nurse would have trouble sticking an I V in him. Short almost tight enough to be painted on. Arms and legs just large enough that normal walking was out of the question, but not so big as to force the bodybuilder waddle. Connor sat there watching Vuk breathlessly as Vuk's chest rose up and down, up and down, expanded in and out....in and out. It was hypnotic. It was so beautiful the way his shirt pulled tighter and highlighted Vuk's nipples, which were beginning a migration down to the bottom of the pecs. Now the photo shoot items began to glow. Connor wasn't sure where to look for the growth, but soon realized it was happening around Vuk's head. Vuk's brow got a little heavier, further down, but not out, so he didn't look like a Neanderthal, just a serious and brooding kind of man. His eyes were slightly deeper set and richer in their brown color. His cheek bones rose up higher...slightly higher, while his jaw line became tighter and squarer. His lips became a little fuller, deeper color, as his cheeks became a little more flushed. Then his hair grew out, out and down, becoming a medium length, almost shoulder but not quite. It feathered nicely, parted down the middle, and framed his face extremely well. "uh-huh-uh..." Connor breathed in a ragged sigh. Vuk's looks hadn't changed much, but they were definitely amplified, highlighted, deeper chiseled, especially that jaw line, despite the fact that his body although well built and defined, looked a little like off season time. Suddenly Vuk's head began to move upward. His hands began to move outward and his limbs began to get longer and longer, stretching out further and further. The glow was leaving the photo shot props now and washing over the basket ball shoes. Higher and higher, taller and taller, Vuk began to grow. The shirt and shorts began to become painfully tight. Small tears and rips began to be heard. Vuk's tennis shoes began to take on the shape of his actual feet and rips where happening down the sides and in the upper part of the toe area. His muscles grew in proportion to him and he was becoming a big...big.... man. Soon tears and rips where all that was heard. Back ripped. Collar snapped. Sleeves exploded. Sides were torn. Short hems and side seams tore violently open while the waist band popped off its button and pulled the zipper open after attempting to contain Vuk's waistline, prick, and balls. Side seams of the tennis shoes gave way while toes began poking through the front and tops. Ankles and heels began to take care of the top of the shoes and the back, expanding and shredding them to pieces. Laces began to snap and break, falling to the side looking more like fringe on a curtain. And then it stopped. With a small flutter, Vuk's shirt and shorts fell to the ground on top of his new, man sized feet under a canopy of shredded shoes. Although the models didn't seem to notice, Vuk was now in the same height category as they were. He definitely was no longer a member of the "short men club." The bios of Mitchell, Aaron, and Caleb all stated they stood somewhere between 6' 2" to 6'3" inches tall, and from the looks of it, Vuk was standing about three five inches taller than them. He stood there looking like an off season amateur, four to five year experienced bodybuilder, who has just stripped off his shirt, dropped his pants, and was going to flex and show off in his underwear. However, part of that description wasn't going to stay for too long. The glow left the basketball shoes and then took over beverage center. As it did so, Connor could see that changes were occurring in Vuk's stomach area. Where it was originally a bit stocky, it began to tighten up, the smooth look was disappearing as line after line were cut and chiseled into view creating a washboard abdomen and exceptionally defined obliques. His muscles each became more defined, deeper cut, and just a titch more swole, fuller. This... this was a fitness model competitor in the middle of a completion. One of them that in just a few short months, a year maybe at most would be able to join the new ranks of bodybuilding pros. Except for one thing, he was covered in thick, feathery hair all over his body. It made him manly, it wicked off musk from his body, but it wasn't enough so one couldn't see the size, shape, and definition of his muscles. He had become, Men.com, Colt, or Playgirl material. If he could dance he would be a star at Chippendale's or appearing in Magic Mike Three: Extreme Pole Dancing. Connor sat there on the edge of his seat watching all the changes take place in Vuk. When Vuk's body suddenly snapped in such huge muscle definition, separation, and cuts, Connor stared into the eyes of Vuk, shook spastically, and felt a wet spot grow in his undershorts. Then the lights came up to full. Everyone was moving at a regular pace again. Vuk's clothes were magically whole again, his shoes now fit his size sixteen feet, and one of the models was escorting him over to the end of the line in front of the big wheel. "Alright, welcome back to The Price is Buff. It's now time for our second Showcase Showdown. We have our three contestants who managed to bid their way up on stage during the second half starting with Mary, then Carrol, and finally big man Vuk, who looks like he could steal Mitchell, Aaron, or Caleb's job if he wanted. "The object of the game is to spin the wheel either one or two times and come as close to $1.00 as you can without going over. Anything totaling over $1.00 loses the game. Each player will take up to two spins of the wheel; the wheel must go all the way around at least one time or the contestant in control must do it again, aaaand sometimes you get booed, although I hope our audience is much better mannered than that. After the first spin, the spinner can choose to either stay with what he/she landed on or spin again; on the second spin, whatever the contestant hits will be added to the first score, and -as previously mentioned- if he/she goes over $1.00, that contestant is eliminated from the game; otherwise that player stands under the scoreboard and waits it out. Do we all understand? Good. "Now there a couple of extras. The person with the highest amount, without going over $1.00 will be the winner and move on to see and bid on the Showcases. If there is a tie in amounts, then we will have spin off, where the same rules apply. You get only one chance to spin but it must go all the way around or it is void and doesn't count. The second extra is, if you should spin and land directly on $1.00 or you achieve a total of $1.00 in two spins you receive a bonus of $1,000 dollars and the chance for one bonus spin. In that bonus spin if you land on one of the green spaces, the .05 or the .15 you win an bonus of $10,000! You think that's special, hear this.... if during your bonus spin you land again on the dollar, you receive a bonus of $25,000! Wouldn't that be something to take home?" "Alright, up first is Mary. Get on up here and give the wheel a spin." [doot....doot.....doot doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo] "And it looks like you will successfully make it go all the way around. Would you like to say high to anyone while we're waiting." "Oh, thank you, Brian. I'd love to say hello to my husband, Ray, who is at work, but promised he try to root and pray for me while I was out here. Hi Ray!" "A-ha ha, that's lovely.... oh it looks like it's slowing down...it's is slowing down.... ten cents, you don't want that....seventy.....twenty-five.......oh...little more oomph....yes.... Ninety cents. You have ninety cents, Mary what do you want to do?" "I'm going to stay Brian." "She's going to stay, a wise decision. Now it's Carrol's turn. Lovely Carrol whom we met earlier from Metropolis, Illinois. give it a spin...." [doot......doot....doot doot....] "AAAAAAOOOOOOH!" "Oh, Carrol....Carrol are you alright? The audience is just in shock. Poor Carrol in her attempt to get the wheel spun hoisted it down then up to give it a pull and it nearly pulled her backwards and over the top of the wheel. Now, Carrol. Are you alright?" "Hee hee heee.... yes, Brian." "Good. Now I think you'll find it better if you push it a little up to start your spinning." [doot......doot..... doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo] "There we go that is a much better spin and it went all the way around. Oh here it is it's slowing down.... 70.....25......oh there goes 90 you won't be able to tie Mary with one spin....and....80 cents. Now... this is a bad situation to be in as you have to spin again to either tie Mary or beat here with 85, 90, 95 cents or one dollar total. It will be difficult to do, but we have had it happen. Get up there and spin the wheel again." [doot.....doot..... doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo] "And a fine healthy spin it is. Anyone you'd like to say hello to back home?" "Hello to my kids and my nieces and nephews who by the time this airs will probably be at our home in Salem, Massachusetts for Halloween festivities." "Aha ha.... I bet you all have a fine time.... oh...it's slowing down....80....35.....maybe not slow enough......60.....20....no...don't slow down now....don't slow down now.....Oh, Carrol! .95 cents for a total of one dollar seventy five cents. I'm sorry, thanks for being with us." [bRRRRRRRRRRR!] "Alright. Now it's Vuk's turn. Get up there and spin that wheel. Vuk the might man from Serbia, showing us how big and strong all those Serbian men are. How they survived all the fighting, and cold winters, and rugged beauty....." [Doot.....doot....doot.....FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT FFFT] "Holy cow! Vuk!.... Vuk!...... You're like James from the first showcase showdown today. He made it so you couldn't hear the beeps either it was spinning so fast. Someone is pulling my leg aren't they? They've made it so members of the International Strongman convention are testing their strength using our wheel........ ...... ....... You did realize it was a wheel and not a propeller, right Vuk?" "AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!" "If this had been bowling the pins would've become dust with your delivery...." "AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!" [click click click click click click click click click click click click click.....] "I'm supposed to retire in five years, Vuk." "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" "Do you think it will stop by then?" "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" "These people enjoy our show, but they have to go home at some point in time." "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" "Seriously, Mitchell and his wife just had a baby girl. The christening is this Saturday. By the time this gets done we'll be attending her graduation." "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" "COLLEGE GRADU..." "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" [doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot... doot... doot... doot....] "Oh wait....wait.... it's slowing down.... it's slowing down... real quick before it stops who do you want to give a shout out too?" "Uhmmm....I guess I really only want to make a shout out to my boyfriend in the audience, Connor." "Ohhh that is so cute. Where is he? Get a camera on him. I don't see him where is h....He's so tiny! You've got to be a foot and a half taller than him. You have got to make the cutest couple ever with your size difference. When he goes to kiss you it has to be like climbing Mount Everest." "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" "Well, we're glad both of you could make i....and hey....look at this....LOOOOOK AT THIS!" [DING DING DING DING DING DING WHOOOOOOOP WHOOOOOO WHOOOOP WHOOOOOO WHOOOP WHOOOOOOOO!] "ONE DOLLAR! VUK! You hit one dollar on the nose! I'm sorry, Mary. It means you're out. Thank you for being with us today. My....Vuk... VUK! You have certain made our day today. We love to give contestant prizes and make them happy and you have got to be one of the happiest men in the world right now! You won a prize to get up here. You won all four prizes in your prize game. You've won your place to see the ending showcase and did so by landing on one dollar winning a thousand dollars in the process! Now, come over here. Stand at the wheel again. I have to move this...." [doot...] "To the green space of five cents. Now you get one extra bonus spin. Remember it has to go all the way around, if it lands on the green you win another $10,000 and if on the dollar, $25,000. Now, give it a spin, but gently we don't want the wheel broken or grow old and die before it stops again." "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" "And here he goes...." [Doot....doot.... doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo] "If you get either of the bonus prizes, Vuk, what would you do with that money?" "Uhm....help my boyfriend and I move out here or maybe enroll in and pay for college." "Those are both wonderful ideas. I hope with or without money you and, what was your boyfriend's name again?" "Connor." "Connor... yes. I hope you and Connor are successful in all the hope and dreams you plan!" [doot.....doot.....doot.....doot......] "Oh hey...it's slowing down..... look at this! It's slowing down..... .25.........90............... .5........will it go one..... more......" [doot] [DA DUNT! DAAAAAA DADADDLE LA DADDLE LA DADDLE LAAAAA DAAAAAAA DA DUNT! WHOOOP WHOOOOO WHOOP WHOOO WHOOP WHOOOOO!"] "One dollar! TWENTY-FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS, VUK! FOR A TOTAL OF $26,000 BONUS DOLLARS!" [DA DUNT! DAAAAAA DADADDLE LA DADDLE LA DADDLE LAAAAA DAAAAAAA....] "How exciting is that!?! We'll see Vuk, and James, in the Showcase, but will we see you? We'll be right back with the showcase after these messages!" [DA DUNT! DAAAAAA DADADDLE LA DADDLE LA DADDLE LAAAAA DAAAAAAA DA DUNT! WHOOOP WHOOOOO WHOOP WHOOO WHOOP WHOOOOO!"]

The Price is Buff (The first half...) by F_R_Eaky Vuk & Connor had been best friends since they met in the second grade, after Vuk's parents moved to the United States from Serbia. And they stuck up for each other while growing up as well. Both of them were small men, five foot one inch tall and five foot even respectively, with Vuk's inch taller frame carrying a little more weight although you couldn't really call him stocky by any means. They had reached their height early, around sixth to seventh grade, and never got any larger. But there was some courage, some power within these two, for whenever Vuk's deep brown eyes would flash with adventure under his thick black eyebrows and over his wide but straight nose and full pouty lips, he would tussle Connor's strawberry-blonde hair and Connor's emerald eyes would sparkle above his thin, arrow like nose, bow lips, and constellations of freckles. Vuk would take the bold stance and Connor would follow, but usually uttering some hesitations or reasons why they shouldn't be doing what they were doing. He tried to be a voice of reason, but that was often masking a voice of fear. By their senior year of high school, the two had realized and accepted they we gay, and although they didn't openly flaunt it at the drop of the hat, or act out in some stereotypical, sitcom, gay character manner, they weren't hiding in the slightest. In fact it lead to their current situation. After graduation, Vuk's parents discovered he was gay, or finally realized it. However one wants to say people with mental "blinders" on realize their family member has a "condition." So there it was the young man was kicked out of the home he grew up in, ostracized from his family. He was spending the night at Connor's house, but things weren't much better there. Connor had all the support and love he could want from his mother, but his father not so much. His son being gay didn't bother him at all, but he was aware that there were those of the homosexual community who acted manly, who could pass as a "normal male," who excelled at some athletic sport. Heck, Lee Priest was a proportionately huge and successful bodybuilder. Decent little scrapper too. Why couldn't Connor be like that? He could be like that gay bodybuilder from the 80's, Bob Paris and his partner. Thus as Vuk vented to Connor, and Connor attempted to console, that Vuk came up with and announced the idea that he was going to move to California. Connor was stunned and tried to explain to him that he didn't have the funds to get out there as well as live. He had no training. What about college? Vuk smiled and told Connor he had enough saved up, plus what he received as graduation presents, to go out, live in a hotel for a bit, and then he could find a job and work on laying down roots there... and he hoped he could do so with Connor by his side. Connor was a little shocked at Vuk's proclamation of love, but then realized it has always been them two, and them two together. Even though they attempted to date other guys, but most guys were either straight or wanted their twink boyfriends at least a more regular height. Connor turned off the light for them to go to bed. Vuk stayed up, sitting in the dark, shirtless, looking at the world map hanging in Connor's room and day dreamed of California. Connor lie there awake staring at Vuk's slightly hairy torso softly kissed by the moonlight through the bedroom window. "He loves me." though Connor, and he drifted to sleep as his little four inch cock swelled to all its diminutive size. Early in the morning the pair woke up, backed bags as quietly as they could, stopped off at the bank, and then boarded the next bus headed for Los Angeles, California. And that is where we are now. After finally arriving, the pair looked up the locations of banks, chose one and opened up new accounts. Following that they found a cheap but decent looking hotel which to make their home base. But before they set out to find jobs, knowing they'd probably have to pick up something like a waiter or cleaning crew, good blue collar work, they thought they'd see if they could have a little fun - attempt to get into or see a game show. The problem getting in was twofold however: 1. Most places required folks to get tickets for their show in advance, and 2. Most of the production companies were more concerned about the word show and less about the word game in their genre title. If the young men weren't turned away for not having tickets pre-ordered, then they were turned away for not looking right: too short, too child-like in appearance, too skinny. They were just leaving the studios for The Price is Right when their fates changed. "You know what, Connor? Fuck 'em! Maybe it's just like high school and their stupid cliques all over again. We'll find our niche. We don't have to appear on a game show and they didn't waste our time, we used them to get ourselves acquainted with the town." Connor was nodding in agreement when, out of the building they were just walking by, a harried looking gentleman with headset askew on his head came out the them and loudly proclaimed, "You two'll do. Would you guys like to be on a game show?" Connor didn't even get the ability to answer. Vuk did it for them, grabbing Connor's hand and yanking him through the doorway. "Great. We need to put name tags on you, so what are your names?" "I'm Vuk, V...U...K, and He's Connor." "Spelled the usual way there, Connor?" "Uhm...yeah." "Great. Tell the Usher your last names on the way down for me. Thanks. No No NO! That prop needs to go back stage for the Showcase. The announcer doesn't get any props today..." And the gentleman left disappearing into the sea of lights, wires, and curtains that made up the set of the show. The usher showed Vuk and Connor to their seats, and Vuk told them their last names, just giving his first with them so the cast could tell who's surname belong to who. A mere seconds later the dim studio suddenly glowed brightly with lights, two signs came on that read "APPLAUSE" and "ON AIR" upon which, the audience came to life and began to scream and cheer or jump and bounce in their spots. Then the announcer and music blared. "THAAAAAAAT'S RIGHT! IT'S TIME FOR EVERYONE'S FAVORITE UNDERGROUND GAME SHOW! AMERICA'S FINEST HOUR FULL OF PRIZES AND POWER! Anita Thompson....[tweee dudally dudally dudally dudally] COME ON DOWN! [da da DA dat, da da DA dat!] Eric Stephenson.... [da da DA dat, da da DA dat!] COME ON DOWN! [tweee dudally dudally dudally dudally] James Landry.... [da da DA dat, da da DA dat!] COME ON DOWN! [tweee dudally dudally dudally dudally dooooo] and... Jason Valdez [da da DA dat, da da DA dat!] COME ON DOWN! YOUR THE FIRST FOUR CONTESTANTS ON.....THE PRICE IS BUFF! [Dat doot da daaaaa... bwaaaa bwaaaa dat doot da daaaa bwaaaaa bwaaaa... da doot da dadda da dadda da dadda dat doot da daaaaa...] AND NOW HERE'S THE STAR OF THE PRICE IS BUFF, BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAN KEAN! Vuk and Connor looked at each other with questionable faces. Weren't they just kicked out of the Price is Right's studios? The setting certainly looked the same. The show sounded the same. However the announcer and host were off. So too were the models; they were two sets of three female and three male models not just three ladies or three ladies and one guy. And the name of the show was off. The Price is Buff? Connor and Vuk looked around. Everyone in the audience seemed comfortable, not surprised. What the Hell. The two young men shrugged at one another and whenever everyone sat down they did too and watched the show as it unfolded. "Good day, ladies and gentlemen. I am Brian Kean, the host of The Price is Buff. It is a pleasure to see you this fine day, but we're going to send it right back to our announcer, Johnny Greene, as he introduces us to the first item up for bids. Johnny?" "It's a this or that prize, Brian. Depending on who he or she is, our contestant could win either: a year supply of MAGNUM™ XL extra large, lubricated condoms from Trojan. Intended for men who feel that regular and large size condoms are too small, these condoms are 30% larger than standard sized ones. Tapered at the base for a secure fit, silky smooth lubricant-for comfort and sensitivity, special reservoir end for safety, and made from premium quality latex. For your sexual protection needs, it's Trojan. "Or seven Bizarre Brassieres' Push Up Bras. Made out of 100% Spandex, seamless, with easy yet supportive front closure, the cups are gel lined, outlined in delicate embroidery, and help not only keep a lady's bosom up and supported but can even give a woman an enhanced look of larger breasts. Available in various colors of human nude through the rainbow. If your breasts are comfortable, supported, and pretty and perky, they're Bizarre! This, this or that prize, could be yours if you have the prize price." "Thank you, Johnny. Alright we're going to start over here to my left with our first contestant in contestant row. Anita, what do you bid?" Just like the regular game show, the crowd, especially Anita's friends began to holler out loud various prices they thought were correct or words of encouragement to help spur her on. "Uhmmmmm. two-eighty." "That's two hundred eighty dollars from Anita. Eric, what is your bid?" "What did she bid?" "She bid two hundred eighty dollars." "Pffffft. To high, woman. One fifty." "One hundred fifty dollars for the scoffing Eric. We turn now to James for his bid." "Two fifty, Brian." "Two hundred fifty dollars for James, and lastly we come to hear the wise shopping voice of Jason. What's your bid?" "Two twenty five." "Jason has bid two hundred twenty-five dollars. All contestants have bid and we find the actual price is... ... ... Two-hundred and sixty five dollars....James you win! You're the first contestant on the Price is Buff to play a pricing game today! But first, I need to hear you say it. What do you have to say about that first bidding prize?" "It's MY prize!" "That's right! And I hope you enjoy it." Many people may not have noticed, but Vuk certainly did see the unusual happening that occurred in front of them on stage. James was short man like Vuk and Connor were. Not quite as short, but still probably no more than 5' 4" or 5' 5" inches tall, with just a slight athletic build. As soon as James said the prize was his, there was movement in his shorts. Substantial movement in his shorts. Vuk saw that originally there was no real bulge whatsoever in James' crotch area, but suddenly there was a bulge and it grew and grew quickly, almost instantly to looking obscene. Then there was kind of a pulse or a bounce to this bulge and it began to flatten out somewhat as bump in the bulge began to move off to the left side and then disappear. What appeared in its place, however, was a decent size bulge that went down...down... down.... until it looked like he had a decent sized sausage stuffed down the left leg of his shorts. James stood there and was listening to what Brian was telling him, but a slight smile was spreading across his face. "Connor. Did you see that?" "See what?" "James just grew a dick." "What?" said Connor in a hushed whisper now, completely embarrassed that Vuk had mention a private part in public. "He didn't just grow a dick. He's a man, he's had a dick since birth... or got one from a sex-change operation." "I don't mean he simply grew one out of thin air, but he wasn't as hung as a bull-ox when he went up on stage." "Look just because you have a great eye for spotting well endowed men, doesn't mean that their penis just grew longer out of nowhere." "I'm telling you, he was like us before he claimed his prize and afterwards he has like a cock that's going to grow into a ten to eleven incher when erect." "Honesty, Vuk. Now just sit still and watch the show." And Connor focused his attention back on the stage. "James, I want you to come stand over here and looks at those doors to discover that you could win this!" "A week's supply of Gorilla Wear! Gorilla Wear, casual and work out clothing for the extremely built. A fine selection of tank tops, t-shirts, long sleeve shirts, sweat shirts, pants, shorts, gloves and shoes, in an array of brilliant colors or in black and white, with sizes going all the way up to quadruple extra-large. Made out of a cotton -lycra or polyester blend, these clothes allow you to work out while wicking away sweat or walk about during the day able to move without being pinched or bound by your clothes. Gorilla Wear. ... .... Brian." "Now James, you look like you work out to me." "Well... I used to Brian." "Well it looks like you still have some good muscle memory in those muscles. I'm betting you would like to take home that prize, wouldn't you?" "Oh, yeah! It would definitely motivate me to get back to the gym." "Alright. We're going to see if you can win that prize by playing one of our oldest and most popular games. This is Mountaineer's Money. This mountaineer lives way up high, High, HIIIIIGH! in the mountains and as such he hates to discover that while on shopping trips in the valley, he's spent too much. Probably because it takes so long to walk down and up the mountain again. What you're going to do is help him climb up that mountain, and you'll do that by guessing the prices of three extra prizes. If you're fairly close to all three prices, he won't walk that far and simply reach his home. If you can do that, you'll take home that big prize. If however your guesses are way off the original price, he's spent too much money and it'll upset him so, he'll walk right off the mountain. But before you make you price guesses, let's find out about the three extra products." "First is a colorful passport cover from Secure Pass that not only looks great but protects your passport form being read by x-ray machines. Second is a two slice toaster featuring seven levels of browning control by Sunny Morning, and finally a this 8 cup coffee maker by Kalorinn." "Alright you have up to twenty five dollars or points to work in. Think hard about the prices of these items because if you go over that twenty-five dollar mark, over he goes and you lose everything. So first is the passport cover. What do you think is the price on that, James?" "uhm....fifteen bucks." "Fifteen bucks says you. Is James right on that price? [bZZZZZ] No! That's not the right price. Let's see what the mountain man says. Start walking mountain man.... [Yode -Ding!] Wow! only one point up the mountain. If you got to be off on the price, that's the way to do it. What was the price? [DING] Sixteen. Sixteen dollars. Ok next we have that two slice toaster. What do you think the price is on that?" "uhm.....er......thirty eight." "James says that toaster is thirty-eight dollars is he correct? [bZZZZZ] No! It's time for mountain man to move. Get walking. [Yo dee doo dee yo dee doo dee yo dee doo dee oooooh yo dee doo dee ooooooh yo de doo dee oooooh] Oh... this is not looking good. [Yo dee doo dee yo dee doo deee].....you need to stop moving mountaineer! [Yo dee doo dee oooooh yo dee doo dee oooooh] Oh my goodness, James, I think you're gonna kill him! [Yo dee doo-DING!]..... ....OH! Oh, James, you bout sent us all into a heart attack here. We hate it when the first contestant of the show doesn't win. You're safe now but you blown nearly all of your points for margin of error. Let's see how much that toaster was. [DING!] Twenty dollars. A mere twenty dollars. Must be a Midwestern toaster. [hahahahahhahaha] Ok... I want you to walk over here, breathe for a moment, and stare at this coffee maker, take a little bit of time before you make your decision. Not too long because we have to have everything taped within an hour's time. Looked at? Alright tell me, how much is that coffee maker?" "Uh.... a-huh-huh.... er.... " "Better make it a great guess you only have six points left to work with." "I.... ok.....let's say.....I know this is goin' to sound crazy as it's not too much further from my last bid, but let's say thirty-five." "Oh the audience isn't sure about that, but we'll see. We'll see. James has said thirty-five, has he guessed the price right on? [bZZZZZ] No, we need to watch the mountain man walk. Here he goes.... [Yo dee doo dee oooooh yo dee doo dee oooooh] Oh no! NO! STOP MOUNTAIN MAN STOP! Oh James, I think he's going....to.....go...... [DING!] YOU DID IT! JAMES YOU DID IT! He stopped with just one dollar to spare. You've won your prize. Show us the price of that coffee maker. [DING] It was forty dollars. Congratulation, James. What do you have to say?" "Thank you, Brian, and THAT'S MY PRIZE! WHOOOOOO!" Suddenly the crowd got quiet and the lights seemed to dim to almost half way throughout the whole studio. Vuk ribbed Connor with his elbow. "Watch James. Watch him!" James suddenly became kind of stiff. He began to wiggle his fingers and tap his toes alternately back and forth. Then he simply stopped and went to raising his chin and tilting his head back, eyes closed, as if he was receiving something pleasurable that felt extremely good. It was at these point that Vuk could see the veins in James' feet begin to rise and grow out from his boat shoes. The mighty red rivers began to ribbon their way up his ankles and then his shins and calves past the knees until they went into the tunnels that were James' short's leg. Vuk watched adamantly as for a while it seemed like nothing was happening but then, the ribbons began snaking their way out of James's sleeves and up from his collar, covering his forearms and down through his hands or up the side of his neck into his head. At that Connor let out a small gasp. "You see it too?" whispered Vuk. "Yes." came the soft and astonished reply. Next it seemed that James' calves were breathing, throbbing in and out to the beat of his pulse. Each time they became bigger, fuller, larger, harder, growing and growing into these thick, dense, diamonds that looked as though they wouldn't cut glass, but shatter granite. So full and wide his calves were that it almost looked as though his legs had no taper down to his ankle, just this thick column springing from his shoes and going into his shorts. Speaking of his shorts, they began to ride up his legs just a bit. Enough that his newly elongated cock almost showed its head out the bottom. The back of the shorts began to fill out and swell as James' ass began to grow and round, become firm and hard, this tight, full, bubble of muscle that jutted out slightly from his form. Then the short's legs began to tighten around James' legs. One could see the fabric pulling tighter and tighter all the way around James' thighs. One saw the hamstrings snap to, becoming taut in an instant and getting thicker with the muscles they helped to move. From behind another smooth but hard mound was forming underneath James's ass as the biceps of the thigh got fuller, thicker, and bigger. In front his thighs blew up until they had stretched the fabric so tight one could see in detail the development of the three tear drop shapes going from something that leaked out one's faucet, to drops from a fire hose, to drops from Niagara Falls, until they were size of tear drops from a giant's eyes. James it appeared unknowingly kept shifting during all this growth, widening his stance farther and farther apart. He was having to stand feet completely shoulder width apart when the sounds of tearing fabric filled the air as James' thighs broke free from their confines. Splitting the fabric in the front in two or three places, a couple in the back, and bursting the seams straight down and through the cuffs, James' thighs inflated into these rock hard, defined columns of muscle, that allowed a horse cock to now swing soft and free. Vuk and Connor sat wide-eyed like children staring at a Christmas tree, watching the whole scene unfold. But the next part of James' growth was hidden to them, wrapped up in James' shirt like the presents under the tree. James began to do side bends and front bends, rolling his abs this way and that as under the fabric of his shirt his abs and obliques began to tighten and tighten, to become cut and defined, to raise up on his torso, to become a mosaic of hundreds of pieces of bricks of flesh. They only saw them once James' lats began to spread out wider and thicker, causing the t-shirt to be pulled up higher and higher and the hem go up enough over James' waistband and eventually up to his navel. That's when the cacophony of rips and tears began to fill the air as James' back, lats, shoulders, chest, and arms began to grow and inflate. Each time he breathed in it seemed he stood a little straighter, his chest stuck out a little more. His arms rose up from hanging almost straight down to hanging at angles from his torso, and with each breath he took those angles were getting wider and wider. His chest simply rolled out of his body, mounding up higher, broader, and thicker with each second. First his shirt pulled slightly tight across his chest, then his nipples began to poke out followed by two crescents, two platters, two mounds, two globes, a fusion to become an oversized barrel keg that caused the collar of the t-shirt to be pulled down and snap in two, creating a rip that ran all the way down mid abdomen. His back caused the same to happen. Becoming wider and wider along with the lats so that it looked like James could jump out of a plane a glide down with built in wings, it cause the back of the shirt to split and rip down as well. Then there was the upper arms and the shoulders or more correctly the deltoids. Together they kept mounding and mounding becoming these huge balls of muscle. The biceps became hard and large like a baseball, growing and spreading out a little to look like a football, then into some model of a mountain top waiting to be painted. The triceps started growing as well matching the size and fullness of those biceps but growing in the opposite direction. These upper arms were looking like gargantuan ham hocks hanging in a butchers shop. Getting so full, so swollen with power, strength, and density, James' upper arms didn't split the sleeves, they rolled them up into the crease between the upper arm and the deltoids. Still, despite the number of folds the sleeve rolled into, the upper arms began the damage causing a small SNAP of tears to begin. These rips were handled by the deltoids that were blowing up like balloons. Going from a small playground ball to a bowling ball...then a medicine ball....then one of those iron kettle balls minus the handle. Swelling to the bursting point they cause the shirt sleeves to finish ripping all the way up to the collar, as his traps rose up higher and higher to pinch off James' neck, which fought back by growing so thick the difference between how thick his head was and how thick his neck was, was minimal. James stood there akimbo, widely, except his hands couldn't touch his waist as his arms due to their size and his lat development stuck out at angles nearly parallel with the floor. The shredded fabric showed off his mighty mass. Vuk and Connor could see tufts of salt n pepper hair springing from out behind torn shirt pieces on James' chest and abs. Not only that they could see James' huge cock dangling so long between his humongous thighs. James was a professional sized bodybuilder, that was for certain, but not taller, yet with that cock, could become a Colt model and make thousands of dollars. But suddenly there was sound of rushing wind, the lights flashed to full power once more, and there stood James, still a massive bodybuilder nearly beyond belief, but he was fully clothed in a tight, but not skin tight, tight fitting v-neck shirt and a brand new pair of khaki shorts. Those were still a little tight as well, but not so much as to make his dick size completely obvious. James' stance loosened a little and Brian suddenly came to life shaking James' hand and slapping his shoulder as he ushered him off to the stage side. "What a way to start our day with a nail biting win. We'll be right back with more fun and games after this commercial break!" Vuk and Conner sat there breathing heavily, but quietly. They both turned to look at one another, with slight smiles and as much of a tent in their pants as they could muster. They couldn't believe what they just saw, or what they would continue to see. Another contestant name was called to fill in the blank spot on contestant row, then another one to fill the sport from the next winner. Both of the winners experienced some alteration after winning prizes as well: one winning a basket ball, basketball board and net, and basketball shoes from Nike, suddenly grew from around 5' 10" to about 6' 6", while the other, Anita, dropped an amazing amount of weight, became slim and toned with larger breasts. As the two young men watched the wheel spins of the showcase showdown, which James' won - although they had to cut part of the taping for airing because James being so strong, it took like fifteen minutes for the wheel to slow down - the marveled and wondered in horny like awe. They wondered what would happen if either one of them got called up to contestant's row. No...it would never happen. But they sat there nearly creaming their pants at the thought. Hoping. Praying. "And that's the first half of The Price is Buff. Come back and I promise you it will be just as thrilling as the first. This is Brian Keane, we'll see you in about three minutes!"

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 TROY Phew, Maggot, I’m glad it’s you who answered your door. I didn’t know what I was going to say to your parents. Oh, they’re at work… and Joey’s at school. So, you’re home alone. Yeah, I brought them. When I got your text, “I need weights. I need to lift,” I knew exactly how you felt. So, I grabbed everything I could But I gotta say, you don’t look so good. Well, you’re all red in the face and sweaty, and your eyes are open wide like saucers… and why are you all covered up in a blanket are you sick or something? Come in and close the door? Sure. Why? You’re dropping your blanket…. Whoa… Jeeeeeeeeesuuuus! Look at you! You’re a fucking tank! Look at your fucking arms! There as big as mine! Your shoulders…. Fuck! They’re huge! And you’ve got fucking monster pecs on you. You can see every freaky striation! And you abs… they’re a freaking brick wall! Your quads are massive! …and all cut up! You can see each and every muscle division! You’re not standing up straight are you? Whoa… you’re as tall as me now! Damn! All this from that blue shit? And it’s still happening? You’re still fucking growing? No fucking way! Yeah, I got some weights in the car. Come on out and help me bring them in. What? You’re afraid someone will see you? You don’t want anyone to see you until you’re done growing? Fuck that! I’m not bringing in all that shit by myself. Throw on a shirt and come out and help me. No one will probably even realize it’s you; you’re so much fucking bigger now! They took your Troy’s Maggot shirts and now you don’t have a shirt that fits? Fuck! I’ve got a spare shirt in the car. You can use that. Hang on, I’ll get it. There. Damn. It fits you like a glove. Holy fuck! I never thought I’d see the day. Did you, Maggot? Did you think you’d see the day when your pecs would be pushing out the front of one of my shirts, when your rock-hard, veiny biceps would be filling my fucking sleeves? It wasn’t so long ago you were just a shriveled up stick! Haha. Fuck, I can’t wait til Hunter and Jack get a load of the muscles on you! What? The weights? Oh yeah. Well, come help me Maggot. What are you doing just standing there? Where are we taking this shit? Oh, you got a spot cleared out in the basement? No one ever goes down there, hunh? Ok sounds like a good spot to set up. Wait a minute, Maggot, don’t take all those fucking plates by yourself… Damn, look at you! Look at you lifting all that goddamn weight by yourself! Holy fuck, you’re getting strong! Can I lift as much? Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, Maggot? Watch this! There…! Even one plate more than you took! It’ll be a cold day in hell before you out muscle me, Maggot! Brian’s Journal – Day 67 A cold day in hell before I out muscle him? Ha! All I can say is I hope the devil has a scarf because he’s going to need it before the sun sets today! I’m fucking growing. I’ve been fucking growing non-stop since yesterday, and I’m going to continue fucking growing. I can fucking feel it! I kept waking up all last night. And every time I did, I went to the mirror and I was fucking bigger. I’d go back to bed, wake up again in an hour or so, and I’d be even bigger. Fuck, it felt awesome, looking at those bulging biceps, that big chest, my wide back, and knowing next time I woke up, they’d all be fucking bigger, thicker, and wider with powerful, heaving muscle! Fuck yeah! My parents poked their heads into my room before they left for the day. I lay in my bed, all covered up. Little did my dad know I had grown two huge, veiny, muscled-out arms, just one of which could fucking break him in two. Haha. But I kept all that bulging, rippling muscle covered up under blankets and just grunted when they told me to be good. I’d be fucking good, all right! Fuck, even my grunt was deeper. It wasn’t long after I got out of bed that I began to feel a kind of burn in my heaving muscular body. I needed to lift. Fuck, did I need to lift! My parents didn’t own a weight set do I did the only thing I could, I texted Troy. I texted Troy and he came. Even more important, he brought weights! And my body was fucking burning for them! We set them up in our basement and I was loading the bar almost before we finished putting the bench together. Troy couldn’t believe how big I’d gotten. He knew I was as big as him. Haha. He was in for a fucking surprise. I could feel I was on the express train to massiveness. And the way I was growing, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was bigger than him, way bigger. Fuck, I was going to be bigger than Troy. I felt myself getting hard at the thought. Bring it on! I hopped on the bench, but all notions about how much I could lift went out the window. I’d been benching about 275 prior to today, but I didn’t waste my time with that. I went right to 6 plates, 315. That was Troy’s bench. I thought it would satisfy my body’s hunger for a lift, but it didn’t, not even close. I pounded out a set of 10 with ease. It was way too easy. I needed more of a challenge. I needed more weight, a lot more weight! I hoped off the bench and almost without thinking about it added another two plates to each side. I slid onto the bench and under the barbell. “Maggot,” said Troy. “That’s a 495 pound bench. That’s crazy. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” “Fuck that,” I said. I was in a kind of growth craze. Growing, getting bigger, that’s all that mattered. I was blindly obeying the demands of my body. “Lift this for me,” it seemed to be saying. “Lift this and we’ll get fucking massive!” “I’m going to fucking bench this,” I said to Troy. “Either fucking help me or get out of the way!” “Ok,” Troy said, shaking his head, “I’ll try and spot you, but at 495, I don’t know how much good I’m going to do.” “Spot me?” I laughed. “Just fucking stand back!” I grabbed the bar with fierce determination, and lifted. At first, it wouldn’t budge. I tried harder, as hard as I could. I could feel that this was what my body wanted, what it hungered for. I continued to give it everything I had. I felt the blood rushing to my head, my face turning red, the veins popping out of my neck. And finally I managed to get it off the support. Fuck, I felt my arms exploding with muscle and as I lifted the bar, I could feel big triceps swell out and form deep, thick horseshoes. Fuck, I could actually feel the hard muscles swelling up on my arms… like they were going to blast right out of my skin, like an incredibly intense instant pump! “What the fuck, Maggot,” gasped Troy. “What the fuck is going on?” Troy was in the spotter’s position. I looked up at him with his eyes wide open and his mouth agape. I just looked up at him and smirked. “What do you think’s going on, Troy Boy?” And then, my arms shaking under the weight, I slowly lowered it down to my chest. It was excruciating and exhilarating, all at the same time. I could feel my pecs, two solid mounds of shredded muscle strained to their limit. And Troy’s t-shirt, the way it wrapped around me so tightly, I could feel every hard, bulging muscle on my torso… and they were growing! My fucking shoulders; they were like expanding rocks, I could feel them swelling with size. I could feel my abs, six blocks of steel-like muscle pushing out from my stomach. And my arms, damn, I could feel they were passing big and were heading for huge. I wasn’t exactly sure what was happening to me, but I found it so fucking hot I was really getting stiff. But now I needed to lift the bar back up. I could feel my body demanding it. My face was so pumped with blood, that if any more blood rushed up there, I felt it would explode. And then it started happening; unbelievably, my pumped up arms began to respond to my will and I started pushing the barbell back up. “FUCK!” I yelled while my whole body started shaking. Oh my God! My muscles… the were growing… more and more… so fucking intense! I began hearing popping threads and tearing seams as my iron body started erupting with size and ripping its way out of Troy’s shirt. Jesus, I could feel my entire frame was getting wider, longer, thicker and heavier. “HOLY FUCK, MAGGOT!” shouted Troy. “ARRRRRRRGH!” I yelled as I felt the sleeves around my powerful delts explode, destroyed by shoulders were blossoming into massive, ripped and segmented boulders. And my arms, fuck, I turned my head and watched my arms blast into massiveness right in front of my eyes. I could see the sinew weaving together making those fucking horseshoes thicker, and those biceps bulkier. “Whatever you’re doing Maggot, you gotta stop. You gotta stop right now!” bellowed Troy. “Fuck that, Troy!” I yelled as I felt the shirt get tighter and tighter. “This is your fucking shirt, Troy! Watch what my fucking body is going to do your fucking shirt!” There was more tearing around my torso and a second later, my mammoth pecs just erupted out of Troy’s shirt. They were huge ripped mountains of muscle, sandwiched between my giant arms and engorged with blood as I strained with all my might to push that weight up. RIIIIP, SNAP, SNAP, SNAP, POP! My expanding iron-like lats, bulging traps and thickening neck, burst out of the remaining pieces of Troy’s shirt, completely reducing it to shredded rags. And then BAM it was up. It was all the way up! I had benched 495 pounds. Damn. “Oh yeah!” I shouted, as I felt a shit eating grin burst out across my face. “Fuck yeah! Let’s see you bench fucking 495, Troy boy!” Then I did another rep only this time it felt easy. “Nice,” I said, laughing. Then I quickly pounded out another five reps before I racked the weight. I leapt up off the bench check myself out in the mirror we’d set up. Holy fuck, I was gigantic! About 6’ 5” and ridiculously wide and bulging! I tore off the shredded remains of Troy’s t-shirt and hoooooly fuck, I was a monster, a fucking muscle monster! I weighed at least 400 lbs. and I was all muscle, every freaking, bulging, vein covered inch of me. My pecs were like round hard melons, my shoulders and back were as wide as doors. My upper arms were at least the size of my head, with thick angry veins leading up to bowling ball delts. My workout shorts had fit okay when Troy arrived, but now my mammoth quads and hams were squeezed so snugly into the legs I was sure the slightest flex would destroy them completely. Of course my shorts were completely safe from my monstrous diamond-hard calves. And my package… I could see the front of my shorts pushed out as far as it could go in a giant bulge, and practically breaking under the strain. “How do you like your maggot now, Troy?” I said, strutting over to him and looking down at his wide-eyed, open mouthed expression. Fuck, look how much bigger I was than him! I was bigger than Troy! I was way fucking bigger than Troy! I was truly enormous, a fucking god! Each and every one of my muscles, from my telephone pole neck to my monster calves, were hard, gigantic, veiny masses! And Troy’s… Troy’s were just big. “Look at me!” I said flexing my massive arms and leering down at him. “I’m pretty fucking big now, aren’t I?” I loved understatement. I was fucking colossal! I hit a double bi, admiring the huge, twin granite peaks as they erupted from my arms. “Think we’ll win the bet now?” But Troy just stood there, apparently unable to speak. And me, I was getting distracted by my shorts. They were so fucking tight, they were really starting to hurt. And there was a recently enlarged caged beast down there that seriously wanted out. I reached down to pull off my shorts. But it didn’t quite work that way. I started to try to peel my shorts off of my enormous muscle encased legs, but I was having serious trouble. So, I slipped my meaty hands under the waist band and, with a heart stopping RIIIIIP, just tore the shorts right off my body, underwear and all. Fuck. I stood there, completely naked, staring at myself in the mirror. And I have to say I was stunned by what I saw. Damn, I was masculine perfection. Besides my killer upper body, I had the legs of a total beast. Each of my huge thighs was every bit as big around as my waist and carved with rolling, rippling sinew. My balls were like two tangerines and my cock hung over them almost to my knees, thick and heavy as a fire hose. “This is too fucking freaky,” said Troy, and then he turned and ran. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going Troy Boy!” I hollered and raced after him. “Don’t run away like a little bitch!” Troy tore out of the house, jumped into his car, and started the engine. No way was Troy going anywhere. He helped me do this! Fuck, he practically made me in to this muscle beast! No way was he leaving now. I fucking wanted him here. That’s right he wasn’t leaving because I fucking wanted him here! But could I stop a car? Fuck yeah, I could! I ran up behind his car, squatted down, dug my legs in and grabbed it below the chassis. Troy put the car in gear and started to pull away. But I pulled back! But could I stop it? I heaved and heaved. I felt every huge, powerful muscle strain in my huge, powerful body. Fuck, it felt like I might burst something. And then I felt it. I was growing again! My arms were bulging out bigger. My monster legs were getting even thicker! And then I was doing it! I was holding back his car! He gunned the accelerator. I could hear the wheels spinning. But he wasn’t going anywhere! Suddenly it sunk in! Holy fuck, I had a hold of Troy’s car and was keeping it back, using nothing but pure muscle! And I could feel it. All that physical power made manifest in pound after pound of steel-like, vein ridden beef exploding out of every inch of my body! FUUUUCCCCK YEAHHHH! “Come back here, Troy,” I bellowed. “Stop being a little bitch!” But Troy hit the accelerator and just kept pouring gas into the engine. I heard it rev up loud and strong. “Okay, fine!” I shouted. “If that’s the way you want to play it, go ahead! See what happens!” I looked down at my huge pecs and started grinning, I felt them getting bigger. The striations were getting thicker, the huge muscle globes were pushing out further, bulging up fuller. And fuck I was rising up, as if I was on some kind of a lift. Holy fuck! I was getting bigger and taller. Just like with the weights, straining my muscles on Troy’s car was helping me get even more colossal. “FUCK! YEAH!” Troy must have guessed what was happening because he killed the engine, jumped out of the car and hid around the other side. “Now you’re hiding? You are such a fucking pussy!” I yelled! Then I got an idea, A FUCKING FANTASTIC IDEA! I grabbed the car again only this time I lifted. Groaning and grunting, I felt every massive muscle in my body bulge and throb. And slowly, I began to make it move. I looked down as my feet, as they shuffled back and forth adjusting for the weight. Holy crap, look at my feet! They were huge and they seemed to be growing even bigger, becoming more solid with heavier bones, throbbing veins, and widening toes! Oh fuck yeah, bigger, I want to get bigger! As I continued to lift as I felt my two calves become rock hard with the pump and rapidly blow up to the size of soccer balls, flaring out larger and flexing behind my giant thickening shin bones. And my knees almost appeared to be shrinking as they were being completely overwhelmed by my massive expanding thighs. Oh my God, my upper legs were evolving into huge undulating, tightly woven masses of powerful sinew, throbbing under my skin, each one trying to bulge bigger than it’s humongous, shredded brother. And as massively wide as they got, they also seemed to be stretching longer, making my already impossibly colossal body even taller. And my balls… They were the size of two large oranges hanging below my monster cock which was about 15 inches long, as thick as a beer can, and only semi-hard. As I lifted the impossible weight of the car higher, I could feel my abs clench. Fuck, they were thrusting out of my stomach, growing, widening into eight deeply carved, solid bricks of muscle that violently heaved in and out with every monster breath I took. Fuck, I checked out my arms, as they gripped the chassis. My forearms were evolving into enormous bulging and swelling masses of ripped cords and tendons just popping with power. My biceps were massive globes of vein covered sinew with peaks alone that put Troy’s entire bicep to shame. My pecs erupted to the size of boulders, huge and ribbed with thick muscle fibers and I could feel my gargantuan lats spread out behind me, like a kind of thick muscle cape. Slowly my ridiculously gigantic arms straightened as I completed a military press with Troy’s car. Oh man, the fucking size of me… I was so fucking massive. So much fucking muscle over every bulging inch of me, now I had become an unstoppable giant, made solely of massive, heaving muscles. Troy looked terrified. I bet he never saw this coming! His maggot was now a seven and a half foot tall muscle giant, more than five feet wide at the shoulders, with huge thick mountainous traps dwarfing his barrel neck. I had grown gigantic, satiated wrecking ball delts supporting enormous, veined wrapped upper arms that resembled giant muscle globes bulging out impossibly huge and hard. My forearms had evolved into a huge conglomeration of thick woven cords, big around as Troy’s torso. My chest had blossomed into two massive orbs of sinew, hard, solid and ripped. My abs had become eight concrete slabs of muscle leading down to my fire hose cock and my grapefruit balls. And my legs… Crap, my thighs had grown so big around, they made the nearby tree trunks look skinny, and I could feel each and every gigantic, powerful leg muscle bulge and ripple under my skin as I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “How ‘bout now, Troy?” I boomed, while still holding his car above my head. “How do you like your maggot now?” He couldn’t say anything, not a thing. “I feel amazing,” I cried, “so fucking strong. I bet I could… Is your car fully insured?” Troy nodded rapidly. I got this giant grin on my face and suddenly I began to squeeze Troy’s car. I began to hear creaking metal followed by a loud pop from the car and then another. A bolt dropped out of it and bounced off the ground. “FUCK YEAH!” I cried as the car frame started to warp. Jesus, I was crushing the car! With my massive bare hands, I was crushing Troy’s car. Then bolts and rivets and engine parts started cascading down in a metallic rain as laughing, I continued to destroy the car with just the raw power in my megalithic arms. “Look at me, Troy boy!” I called. “Look at what your maggot can do!” I threw down Troy’s car with a tremendous crash of metal. Troy turned and ran. “Don’t run from me, Tiny Troy!” I called taking off after him. “Don’t run from your maggot!” I was amazed at how fast my long, hugely powerful legs caught up with him. I grabbed him with one massive, meaty hand, and effortlessly picked him up with my impossibly gigantic muscled-up arms and held him dangling in the air. “Don’t do this to me,” he said. “Please, not out here where everyone can see!” Just what exactly did he think I was going to do to him? “Remember Tiny Troy?” I said. “Remember when we first started and you did this to me…?” Then I noticed it. His reaction was exactly the same as mine had been. He was supporting a gigantic boner. Damn. That’s what he didn’t want out in the open where everyone could see. Tucking him under my muscle pylon of an arm, I hurried him inside and back down to the basement. I set him down and got my first good look at my ridiculously massive body in the mirror. My pecs were two gigantic globes of flesh, sticking out about two feet in front of me overshadowing a range of eight massive muscle plateaus rising out of my stomach and rippling in and out with every breath I took. My back spread out behind me wider than a barn door and about five times as thick. And my legs were two monstrous pillars, as thick around as an oil drum, with all the massive muscle groups visibly writhing and twisting with the slightest move. And every vein, every striation of every muscle group was clearly defined beneath my bronzed skin. My impossibly thick neck was now bent slightly over because I was too tall for the basement’s low ceiling and I was so wide with heaving, bulging, massive muscles, I almost filled all the available space. And as I stood staring open-mouthed at this vision, I felt my giant cock start to lengthen and grow stiff. Bigger and thicker it got, as I stared at my massively muscled, flawlessly proportioned, gigantic, heaving, marble-like muscle body in the mirror. Bigger, thicker and harder it got, as waves of mind searing pleasure began to emanate from it. I flexed and watched the muscle mountains explode out of my arms, then I felt the hardness of my giant pecs and ran my hand over the stone-like ridges of my abs. My new giant cock grew as hard as steel! Oh fuck, I’d never felt anything thing like this before. I mean, I’d been hard before, gotten off before, lots of times, but this… My entire hugely powerful body was practically shaking with the sensation. I felt like I was about to blow! And all this from just staring at myself. And then Troy was there, taking me into his mouth, sucking, licking. I never took him for a cock sucker, but then I guess there’d never been a cock quite like mine, attached to a gigantically muscled, heaving frame like mine. My hands found the top of his head and I started messaging his short, spikey haired scalp while he worked on my impossibly huge and engorged member. I was in that state where you desperately want to release, but you know as soon as you do it will be over, so you hold back. I kept staring in the mirror at my gigantic body, periodically flexing my massively muscled arms, my bowling ball pecs, and running my hands over Troy’s wide rippling back, all while feeling my member throb and pulse with impossibly intense waves of pleasure, building and building and building until I just couldn’t hold back any longer. “AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH FUCK!” I shouted as I came with the force of a freight train, knocking Troy to the floor, and overloading my own pleasure centers nearly to the point of losing consciousness. I don’t know how long I stood there, lingering in the throbbing, pulsing, post orgasmic sensation, before it faded to the point where coherent thought became possible. Troy was picking himself up, and wiping himself off with the towel we’d brought down for the workout. “Please don’t tell anyone about that,” he said looking up at me, nervously. “Tell them about what?” I said, winking at him. “Thanks,” he said. “I’m starving,” I said. “How about you?” “I could eat,” he said, and the two of us thundered up the stairs to the kitchen. Troy stayed with me most of the day, but he left before my parents got home. He figured I’d have enough to explain without him being there and he was right. Did they freak? You betcha! But in the end they accepted me. What else could they do? They took me to see a doctor who looked over my chart as he looked me over and over and over. At one point the nurse brought in a step ladder so he could look in my ears. When he was done he said in a sagely tone, “I see from the school nurse you’ve been on steroids. You should stay away from them. They’re not good for you.” Then he prescribed post cycle therapy. And that was that. When I returned to school the next week, there was something of a commotion as you might guess. But, I figured they’d get used to me in time. The best part was Ralphie. I was 2 feet taller than him now and weighed 6 or 7 times as much, all of it raging, bulging, rippling muscle. Ha! My fucking right arm was bigger than his entire body. My gigantic, veiny bicep was bigger around than his puny torso! “So Ralphie,” I boomed, grinning evilly. “Want to talk about whose bigger now?” Guess what? He didn’t. Graduation came and Troy won his bet. Of course he did, I was way bigger than Ralphie, Simon and all three jocks put together! One dollar. That’s right, this whole thing had been about one dollar. Fuck. I saw a lot of Troy that summer. We did a lot of… experimenting. In between, he taught me a thing or two about wresting. Troy really seemed impressed with my size and power. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t get some of the blue shit for himself. But since I kind of liked being the gigantic one, I never really suggested it to him. And in the autumn, we went our separate ways to separate schools at separate ends of the country. I fully expected to never see him again. Thanks to his training and my ridiculous size, I got on the collage wresting team. But they had trouble matching me with opponents. Finally they lined up a match for me. I couldn’t wait to meet this other behemoth. I showed up at the gym was looking around when suddenly I felt this huge hand on my massive shoulder. I turned around and there stood a man every bit as gigantic and bulging with massive muscles as I was. That monstrous body was a stranger to me, but not the face that sat on top of it. “How ya doin’, Maggot,” said Troy. “I hope you brought your A game.” THE END

Chapter 1 James didn’t have much going for him. He wasn’t large. He wasn’t small. He wasn’t even ugly. He was alright looking by most accounts; he just didn’t really stand out. It worked all right in high school since he could slink into the crowd and avoid bullies, but back there he had had all his old friends. His relative anonymity was getting to be tiresome now that he was in a new city and a new school. He had been so looking forward to college because he had heard about all the great parties that he could go to, but having gone to a few already, he could safely say they weren’t any better than the ones back in high school. He spent the entire time with his back to the wall and a red solo cup in one hand. James let out a sigh as he trudged into his last class of the day. It wasn’t even a real class; it was just a TA session. Every Wednesday night, his physics class had an extra hour long session tacked onto his already tedious schedule. The only plus side was that the nerdy grad student who instructed the class during this period was hella cute. The black haired guy was a little on the chubby side, but he carried his weight well. His small, round, thin, gold rimmed glasses gave him an endearingly goofy look like something out of a children’s fantasy novel. Even the guy’s name was cute. When James had seen the name “Mathis” on his syllable he had expected some dour old geezer or some Axe’d up dudebro. He was very pleasantly surprised when the cuddly looking grad student had shown up and insisted they all refer to him by his first name, Donnel. James threw his book bag under one of the desks and gave a nod of recognition to the dude seated two seats down. This was the closest thing he had to a friend this early into his new school life. With any luck, by midterms they would even know each other’s names. James whipped out his smart phone and began flipping through his various apps. An errant porn gif crossed his dash which caused him to hastily turn off the screen. The last thing he needed was one of the other students to catch him staring at big, floppy, dongs in the middle of class. He took a quick glance around to be sure no one had seen him; he seemed to be in the clear. He let out a sigh, and waited for his dick to decide to forget what he had seen. His own respectable cock was refusing to obey and steadily chubbing in his loose cargo shorts. James could do nothing but slump back into his chair and wait. He might not have much going for him, but what he did have was an overactive imagination. His mind was still replaying that pixelized cock bobbing and flopping in rhythm with the deep thrusts that the dude was receiving from behind. James stared into the blank screen of his phone. He was too afraid to turn it back on for fear of someone catching sight of the gif that was most assuredly still playing on his dash. All he could do until the TA decided to show up was stare at his own reflection in the black screen. The college student staring back at him looked just as skittish as he felt. The thin, face was covered in freckles, mostly clustered along his cheekbones. The tussled mop of light, reddish brown hair looked like something from the Beatle’s early career. He wasn’t particularly fond of the Beatle’s or their hairstyles, but he had been too broke to get a haircut and too lazy to touch a brush in months. The lean student absentmindedly twirled the phone in one hand as he watched the second hand tick away on the old and busted little wall clock that had probably been mounted on that same wall since the physics building had been christened in 1973. Eventually, the cute, chubby grad student staggered into the classroom, huffing slightly as he struggled for breath. “Alright class… Get your books out… we’re going to review for your first exam.” Donnel rattled on between gasps for breath. It was obvious that he had been running to get there. A slight layer of sweat had soaked into his shirt causing it to cling to his skin. It wasn’t the first time Donnel had shown up to class slightly late and even more out of breath. Apparently he had one of his graduate level classes all the way across campus that let out immediately before the class he was scheduled to teach. It was no doubt a serious inconvenience, but James couldn’t help but wonder if the chubby guy had lost a few pounds over the last few weeks. James was sure he could see a little definition showing through the TA’s clinging shirt. James never really had trouble in physics. He could memorize formulas and laws and theories really easily. At this rate this class was going to be ridiculously boring for him. Sure enough, his mind began to wander within the first five minutes of their review. His mind always wandered in this class, but he never got called out on it. His eyes were glued to the cute TA the whole time. He was sure that Donnel had lost a little weight in the past few weeks. James couldn’t help but think how much better the guy was looking now. James mind began to drift farther and farther. Donnel was cute now, sure, but he’d be frickin' hot with a bit of beef on him. James’s mind drifted to thoughts of the chubby instructor filling out his green and white plaid button up shirt with brawn instead of pudge. James could actually see that dude’s shirt fit him snugger as his flabby little moobs gave way to thick slabs of brawn. As the teacher’s shirt got tighter and tighter, the ripples of his toned, beefy abs began to show through the front of the fabric. The grad student’s chest got wider and thicker as his pecs and lats grew and spread. The TA’s now huge muscles pressed against his shirt on all sides causing the fabric to pull away down the center. Large gaps could be seen up and down the front of his shirt as the buttons struggled in vain to bring to two halves of clothing together, and still the TA kept swelling. The buttons eventually gave up the ghost and began to burst free at mach speeds. The miniature projectiles ricocheted off of desks and walls, but no one in the class seemed to notice. The TA’s shirt sleeves ripped loudly as his huge, muscular arms got to be simply too much for them to handle James was actually a little startled by the noise, but it alerted him to all the growth going on in other areas as well. He could see now that it was not just the cute teacher’s chest that had been beefing up, but the rest of him as well. The seams of the TA’s tight jeans were already showing signs of popping and snapping. It was obvious that his thick, brawny quads were going to overpower the tight denim at any second. James’s eyes focuses on the cute guy’s pants as he waited with bated breath for those to follow his shirts example. As James eyed the teacher’s lower half he became aware of the pronounced bulge in the front of the guy’s jeans. James had to silently give his subconscious a mental high five for thinking about that too. It was only fitting that such a massive, burly stud of a man have a cock to match. James couldn’t wait for the beast to burst free of its cruel captivity. Something that great deserved to be seen by all. The lanky student bit his lower lip as he stared at the lewd sight before him. He wanted to rub one out so bad, but he dared not do so in the middle of class. There was no telling just how much of his actions would be visible in the real world. He might find that he would be beating off in the dream and also in front of the actual teacher. With an audible shred, the teacher’s jeans burst into ribbons, leaving him completely nude except for a skin tight pair of grey boxer briefs. The briefs did absolutely nothing to disguise the magnitude of the TA’s cock. It was thicker around than James’ skinny arm and well over a foot long. The thing had to be closing in on two feet. It was impossible to tell for sure due to the way it bunched and folded in the confines of the teacher’s way too tiny undies. James’s jaw dropped. That thing was that huge and still soft! The massive dick was accompanied by two equally massive, cantaloupe sized nuts. It was a miracle that the immense package was still contained within the thin layer of fabric. “Not for long.” James thought to himself with a smirk. This dream was too good to stop now. He was going to go for the Full Monty. The TA had another surge of growth, but still no one except for James seemed to notice. The last vestiges of the guy’s clothing broke away, leaving the now towering wall of toned beef completely nude. His huge, nude TA still paced and spoke confidently as he rattled on about gravity and inertia and friction and wind resistance, but James couldn’t care less about that shit. The TA’s cock was so huge that the head of it grazed the ground as he walked. The shaft was as thick around as James’s lean waist. The two enormous nuts were now the size of jumbo beach party beach balls. His broad chest was almost three times as wide as James’s shoulders. Either individual massive pec was easily the size of James’s Torso. James could curl up like a cat and nap on that broad, burly chest of he wanted to, and he really wanted to. James was so entranced by that fantastic brawn that he just had to get up and get close to that. He had to feel those glorious muscles against his flesh. He wanted to rub his tongue against that colossal dick. James smirked as he noticed the steady chubbing of the teacher’s cock. The gigantic schlong steadily hardened and lifted itself up and up. James couldn’t have peeled his eyes away if he wanted to. He couldn’t be sure, but it was almost as if the giant dick was reacting to his thoughts. James shrugged and rolled with it. This was his dream after all. He began imagining even more lurid acts he would do if he ever got the chance. He wanted to straddle that giant cock like a roadhouse mechanical bull and ride it as it bucked and lurched. He would latch his arms and legs across it and rub his tongue along every inch that was available to him. The TA’s giant cock was already oozing pre and shuddering in response to James’s imagined touches. James wanted all the cum that was contained in those massive, heavy nuts all over him. He was just about to hop up from his seat and begin attending to Donnel’s amazing, growing, dream cock, but the teacher seemed to be one step ahead of him. Donnel set down his text book and went about pacing around the room while absentmindedly stroking his colossal dong. James’s eyes followed him intently as did the eyes of most everyone in the class. James couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else was part of his dream. All eyes seemed intently glued to the now beefy instructor and his massive, oozing cock. Quite a few students had a pink tinge of arousal visible on their faces. James could even catch sight of a few boners pressing against the fronts of some of the guy’s pants. One or two of the braver ones even had a hand down the front of their pants shamelessly stroking their hard-on. He quickly dismissed the idea. If anyone else could see this, surely they would have freaked out by now. James shoved his doubts and inhibitions aside and slowly walked up to the TA. No words were exchanged, but the look of sheer, unadulterated lust in James’s warm brown eyes made it absolutely clear what he wanted. He stood in front of the massive, muscular dude and began to stroke and lick the enormous cock. James dug his own respectable bulge against the soft underbelly of the massive cock and began to grind passionately. He was so overcome by the sheer magnitude of the cute young teacher that he forgot everything else. The thick, veiny cock pulsed and shuddered against his face and chest. James knew it was only a matter of moments before it blew. Seconds later, James was knocked to his feet by a surge of jizz from the monstrous cock. The spooge was so warm and thick that it was like being bathed in tar, but it smelled and tasted so wonderful that James didn’t mind at all. The thick, goopy spunk soaked his clothes and clung to his lightly tanned skin, and yet more and more kept flooding from the TA’s immense nuts. By the time the torrent of spooge had tapered off, James was so coated that his own load was completely lost in the giant tidal wave of spunk from the teacher. James could do nothing by lie in the giant puddle of spooge that now covered the entire front of the classroom. “Oh! I’m terribly sorry. I don’t know what came over me!” Donnel sputtered in shock. James chuckled silently to himself; he knew exactly what just came over him. The huge, brawny guy slowly reached a hand down to help up his jizz soaked student. James reached up and accepted the teacher’s help. James was feeling so great from the intensity of his own climax that he was only vaguely aware of how sticky his skin was now. His gut felt pretty heavy too. There was no telling how much of the salty spooge he had guzzled in his erotic trance. James’s eyes slowly scanned the classroom. All eyes were on him now. The other students looked at him with a look of awe, shock, and even some jealousy. As the afterglow slowly began to fade, James was snapped out of his trance by a loud, rattling ring from the bell. He nearly jumped from the shock. He came crashing back to reality. He suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed. All the other students were gathering their books and packing their bags, barely paying attention to him, but one or two would occasionally glance his way. Something just seemed off. He was sure he had woken up from his dream, but he was still coated in spunk. A firm hand on his shoulder brought his attention back to the cute guy. James looked up to see that same cute face looking down on him, although the face had noticeably trimmed down since the beginning of class. No surprise there, considering the TA no longer had an ounce of fat on his. He was now a huge, hulking muscle god with a four foot cock. “Again, terribly sorry about the mess… You know how it is with guys like me… Sometimes we just can’t help it.” Donnel said apologetically. “Although… Given the lengths you went to to get me off, I suppose I can’t really take all the blame.” He added with a sly wink. James was dumbfounded. He could no longer tell the difference between his dream and reality. Just how much of what he had dreamt had he really done? Had he really transformed the cute, portly grad student into that massive, nude wall of brawn and balls? The real question was could he do it again if he wanted to? A devious smile crept across his jizz-coated lips. This was going to be an interesting semester after all.

Davis knelt down beside a nearby car and used his reflection in the side mirror toadjust his tie and brush his wavy, brown hair away from his face. He wasnervous as hell, and it showed. His hands were trembling so bad he could barely even hold the mic. “Dude. Relax.” Davis’s buddy Trey said. He adjusted his satchel and shot his buddy a smirk that somehow managed to be both sarcastic and reassuring in the way only a best friend could accomplish. Davis’s buddy was fairly similar in height and build. Davis appeared to be a little thicker around the middle, but neither could be considered overweight. Trey’s most defining feature was his eyes. His grey eyes seemed to sparkle in the afternoon sun. Trey’s jet black hair and light skin seemed to accentuate his brilliant eyes. “How can I calm down? This could make or break my career!” David replied. His voice cracked from nerves. “What career. You don’t even have your degree yet.” Trey replied and rolled his eyes sarcastically. “If I nail this report, I can include the video with my resume and bingo bango, I’ve got the internship at the station.” Davis replied. “Sure. After they actually look at your resume, and after you sit down and not flub the interview.” Trey sassed back. “All the more reason to get this perfect!” Davis retorted. “Fine. Whatever, but you could have picked a less boring topic. I mean who wants to watch an expose on cleaning.” Trey scoffed. “For your big, fat information this is a very fast growing field.” Davis countered. Trey made a snorting sound as he stifled his own laughter upon hearing “fast growing.” “I think you just want to see the workers up close and personal.” Trey replied. He made a playful clicking sound and shot Davis a sly wink. Davis’s face turned bright red. “Ju-Just Shut up!” He stammered. “My interests are purely professional! Now get the camera ready. Our liaison is here!” Davis turned and darted over towards a large olive green van that had pulled into the parking lot nearby. The logo on the side of the van was questionable at best. The caricature of a man dressed in blue overalls looked borderline phallic. It was a wonder that the design ever got past the censors… but then again people have become much more lax about nudity lately. Trey once again rolled his eyes sarcastically but scooped up the camera and trotted after his excitable pal. The van pulled up beside the two college guys. The window slowly rolled down, and an incredibly large man peered out from inside the van. Davis’s jaw dropped. He had not expected someone nearly so huge… nearly so hot. The man at the wheel was probably in his mid twenties. His piercing blue eyes seemed to peer straight into Davis’s soul. His stubble accentuated his shapely jaw. His neatly trimmed, brown hair framed his handsome face perfectly. Davis could only stare at him in silent awe. The man waited a moment before awkwardly asking, “So uh… you are the guys here about the story, right…?” “Yeah. Ingmar here just can’t seem to find his voice.” Trey replied lazily. He then playfully elbowed Davis in the ribs and said to his buddy, “Dude. Say hello or something.” “Oh. He-hello…” Davis stammered. “Right. So you guys wanna see how we do business? There’s room in the truck if you want to ride along. I’ll take you some of the sites and show you our operation.” The large man explained. “That sounds wonderful.” Davis gushed as he rushed around the van. He got to the other side and reached for the handle on the passenger side door when the driver stopped him. “You’re going to have to ride in the back. There’s no room for another passenger up here.” He explained. “Oh… Ok…” Davis murmured in reply. He took his hand off of the passenger side door handle and trudged dejectedly over towards the back door. Trey was already there and had crawled into the back. Davis followed after him and began to take his seat, but he stopped and gawked before he could even get his seatbelt on. The driver wasn’t even kidding. There was simply no room in the front for another passenger. The huge man occupied the entire front bench. He broad, muscular shoulders were so wide that he had to curl his shoulders in a bit just to fit into the van. It was a miracle he had managed to maneuver enough to even peer out the side window. Davis couldn’t get over how huge he was. He looked like he was trying to ride in a little clown car instead of the full-sized, industrial panel van that he was currently driving. “Oh. I never got your names.” The huge man said. He didn’t even bother to turn around, but that didn’t bother Trey or Davis at all. It was obvious to both of them that it would have been a difficult task for their massive guide. “I’m Trey.” Trey replied instantly. There was an awkward pause as Davis just sat there and gawked at the enormous cleaner. He was so entranced that he hadn’t even comprehended the question. All he could do was soak up those fantastic, enormous muscles that bulged through the man’s button up shirt. “… aaaand this is Davis. You’ll have to excuse him. He’s not the most conversational person at times.” Trey eventually added. The large driver chuckled pleasantly and replied. “That’s alright. It’s hardly the first time someone has reacted that way around me. The name’s Mel by the way. So did you guys have any questions while we drive?” Trey took a moment to let Davis chime in, but when it was obvious that Davis wasn’t running at peak mental capacity, Trey decided to step up to the plate. “Well… I guess you could start by telling us what exactly you do.” He said. “Oh well that’s an easy enough question. I run a cleaning company, but you knew that already. I suppose you want to know more about how we work, huh? Hmm… It’s a lot easier to show than to tell, so how about we skip that question until we get to our next site.” Mel responded casually. “Fair enough, but there’s more to your business than just simple cleaners. You are known for only taking on… err… very specific types of jobs.” Trey muttered awkwardly. The driver laughed so hard that the entire van shook. The sudden outburst was enough to even snap Davis from his hormonal reverie. “Huh… wuh…?” Davis sputtered. “You don’t have to be so discrete about it.” Mel replied between chuckles. “Everyone here knows what we do. We clean cum. We scoop spunk. Hell. It’s written on the side of our van.” “Umm… right… but that’s a very specific business model. What prompted you to pursue this… uh… venture.” Trey asked. Mel chuckled again. Trey could practically hear Mel’s eyes rolling as he did so. “Basic business, boy.” Mel replied. “All alliteration aside, I would like to know more.” Trey countered. Mel shrugged. His bulging traps hit the roof of the vehicle as he did so. Davis was once again floored by his sheer size. “Well, I’ll skip the whole bit where semen became a major issue for cleaners…” Mel began. Trey didn’t need any more information on that point. Everyone knew the story by now. It was all over the news. It had started a few months ago. No one was really sure how or why it had started. They weren’t even sure where exactly it originated, but people began growing, and it wasn’t just people getting taller. Some did, but the changes affected everyone differently. Even to this day experts weren’t sure what was causing it. Trey and Davis had not been exposed to whatever it was that was causing these changes, but there was no doubt that Mel had. What else could explain the driver’s massive, muscular physique that filled the front half of the van. “… anyway, your average Ready Maids or whatever you would call for a clean-up just didn’t have the equipment to handle the mess. I don’t suppose you’ve seen one, but these folks can drench a room, let me tell ya.” Mel explained. Trey couldn’t even fathom what that much cum would look like, and he didn’t particularly want to find out. Davis on the other hand seemed to be all too happy to imagine what it must be like. He had a stupid grin plastered across his face, and the tent in his slacks didn’t leave much to the imagination about what he thought of the matter. Troy decided to keep the discussion moving. He had a good momentum going, but there were other topics that they could cover while they traveled. “Right. My biggest question is how do you afford this operation? You don’t list rates on your site. In fact it looks like you don’t even charge. How does that work?” Trey asked. “We make our money in other ways.” Mel explained. “Did you know that semen is rich in protein? That goes doubly so for the stuff we clean up. Some of my buddies have a lab and they cooked up a way to distill it down and extract the base proteins from it. I don’t know the specifics – too technical for me- but I can tell you that we make a killing by reselling the processed material as fertilizer. It apparently works well too. Did you see that pumpkin on the news last week? That guy used our product for his crops.” Mel sounded like a proud father as he spoke of the prize winning pumpkin. Trey had to admit that he was pretty impressed too. He didn’t realize that these cleaners had diversified so well. Not only were they providing a necessary public service by cleaning up the messes caused by massive, horny, enhanced dudes, but they had also managed to turn the waste product into something that could be used to benefit society as a whole. The numbers were already running in Trey’s head. The pumpkin the size of a small house was only the start. There was potential here for much, much more. This could be the end of world hunger as they knew it, and there’s no telling what further applications could be derived from the protein rich sludge. As if to answer Trey’s internal monologue, Mel began to say, “Yeah. My buddies back at the labs have all sorts of ideas for new uses. Just the other day Rich came up to me and he said to me- … hold a tick.” Mel’s exposition was cut short by a loud beeping coming from the dashboard of his van. He pressed a button and said, “Talk to me, Rich.” A staticy, robotic voice came from the dashboard. It sounded like their walky-talkies were reaching the edge of their service area. The voice of the man on the other side was barely even understandable. “We’ve got a major spill on Hammond Street. Mel, can you go look into it?” The voice asked. “Aww shit, Mel. I told you I’m retired from the collection biz. I’m just here as a representative now.” Mel grumbled. “I get that, but this is serious. It’s the biggest haul on record, and we’ve received word from some of our other trucks that there’s a lot of activity on the streets. GroTech and Steele Steamers are already converging on the site. If we don’t get a man on the site soon we’ll miss our chance. You’re only a block away. If you could just claim it for our business we could send some more equipped trucks your way to assist with the clean up, “Fine. I got it.” Mel grumbled in reply. He then hit the button to hang up. “Looks like you guys are going to get some hands on experience with how we do business.” Mel stated. Trey perked up. It was obvious that this part was directed and him and his buddy, but there was something that seemed off. “Is business really that competitive?” Trey asked. “Naw. We’re on good terms with all the other businesses that have cropped up over the past few months. It’s just that… well, I’m a little worried.” Mel responded. “Worried?” Davis asked. “Yeah. The guys at Steele are nice enough, but they don’t have the equipment for a large job like this. They shouldn’t even be trying it, and then there’s GroTech…” Mel replied. His voice trailed off at the end as if he was deep in thought. “That doesn’t sound like the name of a cleaner.” Davis replied. “It isn’t. They’re a biomedical lab.” Trey cut in. “What he said.” Mel concurred. “And that’s what has me curious.” Trey didn’t feel like pressing the matter further, and Davis seemed more interested in other things. Trey’s best bud was practically bouncing in his seat. He looked like a kid who was just told that they were going to Disneyland. It didn’t take them long to reach the site. They really were less than a block away. Mel turned the corner, and as soon as he did everyone in the van could see their destination. Trey and Davis recognized the place immediately. It was the Kappa Phi Beta house, but it was better known as Masta Masta Betta by the locals. It was a relatively new fraternity that had sprung up in the wake of the mysterious growths that had begun a few months back. Every one of their members had been exposed in some way or another. Davis was obsessed with them. He went out of his way to talk to any of the frat bros that he could. Each one was larger and more massive than the last. It seemed like they grew more and more each time he met them, but no matter how much he talked to them or how much asked, they would never divulge how they had achieved such herculean proportions. Mel pulled the van up in front of the large, two story house. Davis and Trey didn’t even wait for instructions. They both hopped out and took stock of their surroundings, but their interests were very different. Trey began to check out the surroundings and pick the best possible location to set up his tripod, but Davis merely gawked at the devastations. Everything was drenched in cum. Spooge seeped out of the upstairs balconies and oozed out of the doors. The excess spunk soaked into the grass reducing the entire front lawn to a sticky, slimy, off-white bog. A noise from behind managed to draw Davis’ attention away from the house and back towards the van. The shocks on the vehicle groaned as the entire van lurched to one side. Suddenly the van snapped back to its normal position. Mel groaned as he stood up and stretched. His back popped audibly as he did so. “I’m getting too old for this…” He muttered as he turned his head from side to side to loosen his sore muscles. His neck crackled almost as loudly as his back had done. Davis’ jaw dropped. He had known Mel was huge, but he hadn’t dared imagine that he was this massive. The cleaner was easily ten feet tall. His broad, muscular chest was almost as wide as the van itself. It was a wonder he fit into the vehicle at all. Mel sighed and gestured towards the frat house. Frat bro after massive, hulking, cum-coated frat bro began to stagger out of the house. “I figured something like this would happen. You get that many heavies in one place and it’s gonna turn into an orgy.” Mel muttered. Davis’ dick felt ready to burst straight through the pleats of his pants. He had never seen anything so sexy in his life. Every dude that staggered out of the house was massive. They had muscles stacked on top of muscles. The shortest one of the bunch was easily eight feet tall and built like a Mr. Universe competitor, but perhaps even more impressive were their cocks. The tallest frat bro had the smallest dick of the bunch, but even his cock reached down to his knees. His two, massive beach ball sized nuts hung about halfway down his thighs. Davis could barely comprehend how huge he was. He had to be even taller than Mel. Davis barely reached up to his crotch. Davis soaked up all the nude, massive college bros that he could. He wanted to run up there and nuzzle up against all those guys at once, but he knew better than to do that. He just wished he could feel those cocks up close and personal. One of the guys there was particularly hot and especially hung. He was short compared to the others, but still had at least three feet of height on Davis. The real thing about him that caught Davis’ eye though was his cock. The dude had a thick piece that was so long the head of it rested solidly on the ground. The massive, spongy tip was broader than Davis’ shoulders. David could only imagine what it must be like when fully hard. He could only imagine that it would be even longer than he was tall. Davis felt his dick lurch in his pants. Just thinking about a cock that huge drove him wild. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to cream his jeans right then and there. Trey’s mind was swimming. He couldn’t fathom how these guys had grown so fast. He had had a class with one of them earlier this same afternoon, and the dude had doubled in size since then. It was tough to say for certain, but it looked like they were still growing before his very eyes. Trey felt even more lightheaded by the moment. Something about this place was getting to him. His eyes passed from one frat bro to another, and he couldn’t deny that they were hot as hell. There was something else at work here though. It was hard to explain, but just being there was orgasmic. It was like the very air itself was making him horny. His head felt fuzzy. He could barely focus on anything. The only thing he could do to keep some semblance of sanity was focusing on his camera. At least when he threw himself into his art he could tune out everything else, but even his passion for video was beginning to lose out against his skyrocketing libido. Trey grunted and shook his head in hopes of shaking the erotic fog that was settling in on his mind. He needed to focus, but it took every ounce of willpower he had just to set up his tripod. He’d much rather scope out the tripods staggering around in front of him. Just thinking about those hot, hung college bros got Trey rock hard below the belt. Trey’s own dick was pretty average by most accounts, but it was straining hard against the front of his jeans. Trey’s hand rubbed idly across the bulge in his pants. It felt huge, far bigger than he expected, but he couldn’t focus on that too much. His skin felt hot. He felt like he was suffocating. He tore at his tie in an effort to loosen it. Once the knot was out he pulled at the buttons on his shirt. Before long he had the front of his shirt completely open. The cool air felt great against his exposed chest, but it wasn’t enough to diminish the burning sensation that coursed through his body. Trey’s mind was so hazy that he didn’t even notice the definition of his abs. He was a fairly active guy, but he had never been particularly cut. Today though he had a very nice, defined eight-pack set of abs. Even his chest was showing some remarkable definition. His pecs were firm and shapely. There hardly appeared to be an ounce of fat on his lean, toned body. Mel rounded the corner and stepped out from behind that van. His appearance was enough to draw even Davis’ hormonal gaze away from the bevy of nude, hung frat bros. Davis’ eyes bugged out. His jaw dropped. He thought the bros were hot, but Mel was in another league of his own. Just the bulge in his slacks was bigger than Davis was. Davis could barely fathom how much cock must be crammed into those denim slacks. Davis took his time soaking up the huge cleaner’s body. Now that Mel was out in the open, Davis could appreciate him more. His shirt was so stuffed full of muscles that Mel had to keep the top four buttons undone. There was simply no way he could close the front of his shirt across those massive, bulging pecs. Either slab of pectoral brawn looked large enough that Davis could lay across them like a king sized bed. Davis couldn’t help but daydream about doing just that. He wanted to feel what it would be like to lay across those firm, brawny slabs while the steady rhythm of the enormous hunks peaceful breathing rocked him to sleep. “Wow… This place is potent…” Mel muttered. He looked uncomfortable, and it didn’t take Davis long to figure out why. Mel’s clothes appeared to be getting smaller by the second. His huge, bulging muscles pressed harder against the already stretched fabric. The few buttons he had clasped struggled to hold back the surging wall of brawn. The stitches began to pop where the sleeves met the torso. “Wait… are you…?” Davis began to say. “Growin’. Yeah.” Mel replied. “It’s this place, or rather this cum. I don’t know the technical stuff, but people who have been exposed to the growth hormones generate more of their own. You get too many of ‘em in one place and it could cause a chain reaction, and judging by the guys that just traipsed on out, it looks like there’s a bunch of growers under one roof.” “Masta Masta Beta.” Davis chimed in. “What?” Mel asked. “It’s the frat. Or I guess that’s just what we call them. A bunch of… uh… growers you called them? Yeah well they all live here. It’s the official grower dorm I guess you could say.” Davis explained awkwardly. “So they took all the growers and shoved them in one house?” Mel asked incredulously. He looked simply flabbergasted. “Uh yeah. That about sums it up.” Davis replied. “Freakin’ idiots.” Mel muttered. He stomped off across the mucky lawn. His gait started out determined and resolute, but as he got closer and closer to the epicenter he began to wobble and stagger. The hormones that hung in the air were so powerful that they were overpowering his senses. He had had months to develop a resistance, but he had never encountered a spill quite this potent before. By the time Mel reached the front porch his shirt had fallen away completely. His bulging muscles had burst clean through the fabric leaving nothing but a hail of tattered cloth confetti. His jeans were starting to follow suit. He had grown so much so fast that his quads were straining against the tough denim. The seams along the sides popped and frayed. Large swaths of exposed thigh peeked through the tears. Mel staggered and took another step forward. He had to struggle to maintain his balance. The fog was settling in even stronger than before. He could feel every inch of his body surging outwards. His dick strained painfully against his fly. It wasn’t just the increase in size that was causing his discomfort though. He was so horny. His cock wanted to stand at attention in its full upright and locked position, but it was trapped in a painfully curved position. Mel felt another wave of growth hit him. His muscles surged outward, his balls swelled, his cock burst through the front of his jeans and flung upright. Mel could only stare at his own cock in dumbfounded awe. It was far larger than before. The head used to only reach to his chin when he was fully hard, but now the tip was well above eye level. The tip of his dick was also as broad as his impressively swole shoulders. “Fuck…” Mel muttered. It was difficult to say whether the expression was an utterance of annoyance or awe. Not even Mel himself was sure. It could very well have been a mixture of the two. He couldn’t deny how fantastic his cock looked. The hormones were still doing a number on his mind. It took every ounce of willpower he had to stop thinking about his massive, fully boned cock and his enormous, muscular bod, but he still had a job to do. The recent growth spurt had made his job far more difficult. “shit…” Mel muttered. He was now completely nude. What little clothing he had left had long since fallen off his massive frame, but that was the least of his problems. He glanced around him and noticed that he was now eye level with the second floor windows. He had almost doubled his height in the past few seconds. There was no way he could even hope to even fit inside the frat house without bashing through the wall like the Kool-Aid man. It was then that he noticed something else. There was a hand pressing against his exposed thigh. Mel heard a soft, whimpering, “wow…” Mel glanced down to see Davis staring up on him with pure, unadulterated lust and awe in his eyes. Davis’s hormonal state was not at all surprising, but what was surprising was his stature. Davis didn’t appear to have grown an inch. His clothes still fit him just as well as they had before… all except for his pants. The tent in his slacks was painfully obvious, but given the state of everyone else in the vicinity that was hardly an issue. “Hey. How do you feel?” Mel asked. Davis shrugged and then went back to rubbing the thick muscles of Mel’s exposed thigh. “Alright I guess…” Davis murmured softly. He was far too entranced by Mel’s muscles to really focus on anything else. Mel was mildly amused that Davis was more interested in his muscles than his cock. Davis obvious knew what he liked. Mel could tell from the look in Davis’s eyes that the dude had his sights set on something bigger and better, but Mel’s huge, beefy ass was just barely out of his reach. “Wow. You’re resistance is remarkable.” Mel replied. “Resistance?” Davis asked. He had an idea of where this was going, and he didn’t like the sound of it. “Yeah. Short version is everyone is affected differently. Some people get hit really hard, some not so much. I’ve never seen someone with your resistance before. I’d hate to think what would have happened if you were susceptible to this stuff. This is the strongest I’ve ever seen it.” Mel stated. Davis was a little disheartened. He had secretly wished to grow larger, but it didn’t seem like he’d be seeing much gains today. “I need you to do me a favor.” Mel said. Davis perked up upon hearing this. As much as he loved fawning over Mel’s massive, exposed muscles, he was eager to prove himself in any way he could. He wanted nothing more than to please the towering titan before him. “Go back to the truck and grab the stasis module.” Mel said. Davis stared back up at him. He didn’t say anything, but the way he furrowed his eyebrows said everything for him. Davis had no idea what it was he was supposed to get. “It’s this thing. It looks like a jar with things coming out the top. It’s the only thing in the trunk. It should be easy.” Mel explained while awkwardly pantomiming the size and shape of the contraption. Davis wasted no time. He snapped to attention and gave the hulking goliath a solemn salute. “Yes, sir!” Davis replied enthusiastically. He turned around and sprinted across the mucky lawn. He barreled past Trey and quickly popped the rear hatch of the van. He was in such a hurry that he didn’t even notice that his best bud now stood a good head taller than him and had long since shirked his shirt. Even the fly of Trey’s pants was down to give himself more room for his swelling bulge. Davis was pleased to find that the van was unlocked. Once the door was open he saw that what Mel said was true. The only thing in the far back of the vehicle was this large device that looked like a twelve gallon mason jar full of bluish green liquid with a strange looking domed top. The top of it had wires and dials sticking off of it that made it look like some sort of brain scrambler one would expect to see in a cheesy B movie. Davis wasted no time. He scooped up the device and hauled ass back to the frat house. He was expecting it to be heavy, but it was surprisingly light. He barely felt the strain on his muscles as he hoisted the object out of the van. Davis was in such a hurry to get back to Mel that he didn’t even notice that the entire van shifted as the immense weight of the device was lifted off of it. When Davis got back to the towering cleaner, he shouted up at Mel, “Hey! I got it! Now what!?” Mel glanced down and was surprised to see that Davis was carrying the device so easily. Maybe the college student wasn’t as resistant as he originally thought. That hardly mattered now though. Davis was the only one who could complete the next task. “Alright. Find the source of this mess and place that device. Then turn it on and get back out. Try not to inhale too deeply while in there, and get in and out as quick as you can. You’re resistant but not immune, and once that thing gets going it’ll start a chain reaction.” Mel explained. Davis tried to hide his excitement. He was going to get to actually go inside and see the site firsthand, and if what Mel said was true, the effects would be even more potent when he got deeper in. No doubt he’d really begin to see changes by then. Davis nodded happily and hopped into the frat house. He was trying to hide his joy, but he was practically skipping as he went. The inside of the frat house was even worse off than the lawn. Jizz oozed down the steps. The entire house reeked of sex and sweat. Davis found the smell to be intoxicating. He wanted to stay there forever. He wanted to just lay back and bathe in the spunk, but he had a job to do, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint that sexy as hell titan outside. Davis followed the trail of jizz upstairs and down the hall. It was pretty easy to figure out which room was the epicenter. All the cum in the house seemed to be seeping out of one room in particular. He shifted the device over to one hand and then turned the knob. The second the door opened he was immediately struck by the musk in the room. His head was swimming. He had never felt so horny before. Davis could feel the changes immediately. His shirt felt tighter, and his junk seemed to press harder against the front of his slacks. He was so giddy he could hardly think about anything else, but he had a job to do. Davis slogged through what appeared to be the communal gathering room. There was a large table on one side of the room that seemed to be a pool table, but there was so much jizz plastered to it that he couldn’t be sure. Everything in the room seemed to be vaguely shaped like furniture, but there was so much spunk clinging to everything that it looked more like a winter wonderland than a frat house rec room. Davis placed the device on a table roughly in the center of the room and flipped the large switch to the on position. He didn’t know what the device was supposed to do, but it seemed to be working. It hummed to life and the gel inside began to glow. A warm, blue mist wafted out of the holes in the top. The mist permeated everything in the room, but the haze covering the frat house was nothing compared to the haze settling in on Davis’s mind. Something about the blue mist made his hormones rage even harder. Davis didn’t even try to fight it. He quickly undid his belt buckle and kicked off his pants. His cock strained against his boxers. His dick was leaking so much pre that his cotton undies had become completely saturated. Davis pushed down his boxers. His huge cock flung free and slapped against the front of his shirt. His dick was huge. The tip of it reached up past his belly button, and the thick tool was as big around as his forearm. Davis was so overcome with how huge it was, how fantastic it looked. He wanted to feel every inch of it. He ran his hands along the length of it. His cock was so thick that he couldn’t even get his hands to wrap all the way around it, and it was still swelling before his very eyes. He was so entranced by his cock that he hardly noticed the other changes that had gone on in his body. All the fat that had clumped around his midriff had melted away and was replaced with dense, sculpted muscle. He was beyond shredded. His muscles looked like they were etched straight into his skin. The deep grooves of his abs loved like valleys. His toned, firm pecs were perfectly sculpted. Davis flopped to his knees. His nuts made a dull splatting sound as they made contact with the layer of jizz that coated the carpet, but he didn’t pay any attention to that. His cock demanded his full attention. As it grew and grew it became more and more enticing. The tip of his dick soon reached his chest, and still it kept growing. Davis craned his neck as best he could and stuck out his tongue, but he could only just barely brush his tongue across the tip. That didn’t last for long though. Soon it was tall enough that he could easily glide his tongue across the entire length of this oozing slit. He could taste his own pre, and it was fantastic. He moaned softly as he felt the warm liquid slide down his throat. This was the horniest he had ever been before, and there was still more to come. He was so enamored with his own cock that he hardly realized that it he no longer had to crane his neck. He was face to face with his own massive cockhead, and it was still growing. Mel noticed the blue fog wafting out the door. “Aw, hell…” He muttered. He hadn’t told Davis anything about how to operate the machine. He had just said to turn it on without even thinking about what it was set to. If it was pumping out enough fog to fill the entire house it had to be running at full power. Mel had just wanted to salvage the one room, but the mist was renewing more than that. Every ounce of spunk the fog touched would soon be restored to full potency, and the mist would soon flood the front yard as well as everything in the house. Mel pounded on the roof. The entire frat house shook from the force, but Mel didn’t let off. He knew they needed to get out of there quick. He was already so tall that the roof of the two-story frat house only reached his chest, and he was still growing. “Hey, kid! Davis! Can you hear me!?” Mel shouted. “Davis! Get out of there!” Davis heard Mel’s voice. He wasn’t at all interested in following his orders, but he slowly staggered to his feet. The man’s deep, baritone voice reverberated through the entire house and struck a chord with Davis’s dick. Davis’s mind was flooded with images of how hot and sexy the hulking cleaner was. He needed to see more of the guy. Something seemed wrong to Trey, but he couldn’t quite place it. He had long since ditched his jeans and was now standing completely nude beside the van, but he couldn’t care about that. He was more worried about his friend than anything. Mel seemed worried, and then there was that blue mist seeping out the door. What was that stuff? Davis was in there too, right? The blue mist that was now wafting over to him seemed strange, but it felt so nice. He inhaled deeply and let the mist warm and soothe his lungs. Trey needed to clear his head more than anything. He just could not seem to focus. He just kept thinking about how horny he was and how hot his skin felt. He had pulled off every last stitch of clothing, but he still felt like he was burning up. Trey sat down on the van. The vehicle was little more than a stool to him now and creaked in protest against his immense weight. Trey didn’t seem to notice or care about that though. He just kept thinking about what was playing out before him. The frat house was easily three hundred feet away, but it looked far closer. The size seemed way off too. It was the same frat house he had seen earlier, but it appeared to be the size of a garage. Trey idly stroked his dick as he tried to piece together his scattered thoughts. His cock was far too large for him to wrap his hands around. It wasn’t just that it had grown longer, which it had done quite a bit, but it was far, far thicker than before. The tip of his dick only reached up to his belly button when he had been standing, but it was easily as thick as his dense, sculpted quads. The van creaked louder. Trey tried to shift his weight and get comfortable, but it was no good. His ass was spilling over the sides of the van. The vehicle was just too small to serve as a decent bench. Trey noticed Mel getting more and more agitated. Something was definitely wrong, but what could he do? Trey tried again to clear his head. He had to do something. He couldn’t just sit there jacking off while his best pal was trapped in there. Trey tried to get up, but his legs felt weak from the sheer intensity of his arousal. He fell forward and landed on his hands and knees. His balls filled up every inch of space between his legs. His huge nuts even scraped the ground as he knelt there and tried to work up the will to move. The blue fog was even denser down closer to the ground. With each breath he took, he inhaled lung-fulls of the soothing mist. Trey slowly crawled forward. The haze in his mind got heavier with each foot he crawled. His destination seemed to be getting closer by the second even when he wasn’t moving. Finally he reached his goal. He tried to call out to Mel and ask what was going on, but it only came out as a horny, pleading moan. Mel heard the noise and turned around. His jaw dropped. Trey’s clean shaven face filled his entire field of view. The dude was simply massive now. The cameraman had grown so much so fast that even on his hands and knees he towered over Mel. Davis awkwardly staggered out the door. It was getting to be tough for him to move around. His body hadn’t grown much, but his cock had swelled to an enormous size. The shaft itself dwarfed the rest of his body. His nuts were the size of bean bag chairs and rested solidly on the ground, and as more and more of the blue mist filled his lungs, his cock and balls continued to creep up in size. There was no telling how much longer he’d still be able to move, but that was the least of his worries at the moment. Davis couldn’t even comprehend what he was seeing before him. There was a massive hand filling much of the front lawn. The fingers on the enormous extremity were larger than Davis’s entire body. Davis’s jaw dropped as his eyes slowly traced a path along that powerful hand, up the massive, muscular forearm, past the massive, bulging bicep, until he finally was staring straight up. The dense, sculpted pecs filled the entire skyline. The sheer size of the guy left Davis speechless. He had never seen anything so hot before. Davis slowly became aware of another form to his side. The other guy seemed tiny compared to the godly titan that towered over the both of them. Davis couldn’t help but think how strange it was that the guy next to him would ever be considered small. Davis barely came up to the dude’s ankles. Even the two story frat house didn’t even reach up to his waist. The dude’s massive ball sack alone rivaled the size of the house. As Davis’s lurid gaze slowly made its trek to the very top of the mountainous beefcake, he quickly recognized that chiseled jaw line and that sexy stubble. The massive, muscular behemoth beside him was none other than the cleaner, Mel, but that didn’t make any sense to him. There had been no one even close to Mel’s monolithic size earlier. So who could this new titan possibly be? It took an extreme amount of willpower for Davis to pry his eyes off of the massive hotty’s fantastically handsome face, but once he did, he began to take stock of the even larger titan towering above the two of them. The colossal dude had nowhere near the bulging, musculature that Mel had, but he was by no means scrawny. Even had he not been large enough to put Godzilla to shame, his dense, toned muscles would have been enough to draw Davis’s lusty gaze, and then there was his cock. The tip of the titan’s colossal cock reached up all the way to his chest and was impressively thick even for its monumental size. The fat, fully boned cock was as thick around as even the titan’s broad, barrel chest. By this point the colossal college stud was practically laying atop his own dick as opposed to propping himself up on his hands and knees. His massive cock shuddered. The mountainous head flared up. Pre oozed out the tip like water cascading down Angel Falls. It was obvious that the titan was getting close to creaming, and Davis couldn’t wait to see it happen. The entire city was sure to be coated in spunk once the monolithic cock unloaded its glorious load. “We’ve got to move!” Mel bellowed. He reached down and effortlessly scooped up the hormone addled Davis – monster cock and all. Davis was overwhelmed. He was so ecstatic, but he wished he could see more. The cleaner’s powerful hand was wrapped around his whole body and pining him against his own cock. Pre cascaded freely down his enormous cock and washed over him. Davis was quickly laminated in his own juices. It felt so wonderful and tasted even better, but he still wanted to see. He had to see more of that godly titan from before, and there was something else weighing on his mind. Davis fidgeted and thrashed as best he could in the tight enclosure. Eventually his motions got through to the towering stud that held him, and Mel loosened his grip enough that Davis could peer up at him. “Trey! Where’s Trey!” Davis shouted up at the hulking cleaner. Mel seemed baffled and first, but soon his confusion gave way to something else. It was as if he was trying to think of the best way to break the news. Davis’s heart sunk. For a brief moment he feared the worst until Mel lifted his hand up and gave Davis a clear view of the towering titan. Davis’s jaw dropped. His cock lurched. His heart leapt for joy. Not only was Trey alive and well, but he currently dwarfed the both of them. Davis had always though his best bud was pretty cute, but now Trey had evolved into something so fantastic, so stunning, that Davis had no words for how hot he truly was. Trey’s massive, hunched over form now loomed over the entire campus and the surrounding residences. The frat house had long since vanished under his swelling cock. Trey didn’t seem to notice or care. He was so lost in his hormone enhanced ecstasy. The monolithic titan moaned orgasmically as he ground his mountainous cock against the earth below. His constant gyrations had worn a deep crevasse into the once flat terrain. The pre flowing freely from his gargantuan schlong had drenched the city below. Trey’s moan were so load that they caused the very earth around him to tremble, but Davis had never heard a more tender, sensual sound. Trey’s soft, pleading whimpers echoed in Davis’s ears and reverberated through his fully boned cock. He felt like he could bust his nut just from the erotic moans of the hot as hell titan. Trey sensually chewed on his lower lip. Davis couldn’t help but marvel at the giant’s expression. Despite his size, Trey managed to look so sweet and innocent. Davis wished he could fly up there and kiss Trey right on his lips, but of course such a thing would be impossible. Trey’s lips were now as wide as a major freeway. Even if Davis managed to get close enough to kiss those full, luscious lips, how would Trey ever feel it? Trey’s eyes fluttered open for a brief second. The gigantic, piercing grey orbs scanned the horizon. The titan’s gaze fell upon Davis for a brief, fleeting second, and his eyes once again fluttered shut. Some small part of Trey’s mind that could still function rationally had resisted his own hormones. He had resisted the powerful aura that had transformed him into a sex-addled colossus. He had summoned forth superhuman levels of restraint to hold back his load for as long as possible, but now that he knew his pal was safe, he had no reason to fight it anymore. A small smirk crossed Trey’s titanic lips. A sensual moan split the air. Trey’s entire body shuddered, and the earth below followed suit. Trey’s monolithic cock lurched and trembled. The enormous, spongy head flared up. “Shit…” Mel muttered under his breath. It was clear what was about to happen. Davis wanted to watch his titanic friend for a while longer. He wanted to listen to Trey’s orgasmic moans. He wanted to watch those colossal muscles ripple and flex. He wanted to watch that monolithic cock shudder and shoot, but it was not to be. Mel clasped both hands around him and clutched Davis to his chest to shield him from the blast. Trey cried out in ecstasy. His orgasmic roar echoed far and wide. His cry of release could be heard across the country, but the effects were even more far-reaching. His cock lurched hard, and an enormous, sticky rope of jizz launched forth from his cock like water shooting from a geyser. Mel couldn’t move in time. The cum crashed against him and soaked into his skin, but he managed to keep his grip on Davis. Mel could already feel the changes setting in. His muscles surged. His cock swelled. His balls inflated even more, but all his growth was nothing compared to what was going on between his hands. Mel opened his hands and glanced down. It was tough to make out what was happening at first. Davis was completely engulfed in cum. Mel could barely make out his tiny form thrashing in the thick layer of spunk that coated his hands, but soon it became apparent that something was different. Whatever resistance Davis may have had to the growth effects seemed to have vanished. Davis’s once tiny form expanded before Mel’s very eyes. Davis’s growth far exceeded that of Mel’s own. In a matter of seconds Davis went from being able to rest comfortably in the palm of Mel’s hand to being large enough that Mel had to cradle the dude in both hands. Before long Mel was holding Davis in his arms as if he was carrying his blushing bride across the threshold, but even that didn’t last long. Davis soon became so huge and so heavy that Mel couldn’t even hold him anymore. The layer of jizz that coated the two of them didn’t help the situation at all either. Mel’s grip slipped, and Davis landed in the lake of spunk with a resounding plop. The impact sent shockwaves through the city and ripples through the spooge. Davis was stunned at first. The standing pool of spunk made it impossible to tell where he was or even how large he was. A seemingly endless layer of white stretched out as far as the eye could see, but soon he began to recognize shapes and places. The weird lump to his left had to be Madison Hall, the largest building on campus. The whole structure could easily fit in the palm of his hands, and it was dwindling before his very eyes. As Davis continued to grow, Trey continued to cum and cum again. His massive cock caused the ground below him to shudder as it erupted like a volcano. Warm, sticky white jizz gushed forth and poured out onto the ground below. Even had Trey been able to keep his eyes open long enough to look around him, he wouldn’t have been able to see anything other than the vast expanse of sticky whiteness. He finally reached his limit. His cock gave a few last weak, watery spurts of jizz and began to soften. Trey rolled over onto his back and just laid there basking in the afternoon sun, a goofy smile plastered across his face. He didn’t even think about any damage he might have caused or about the lasting effects of his growth spurt. All he could think about was how great he felt. He continued to lay there for what felt like ages as the fog of lust and hormones steadily faded from his mind. He was vaguely aware of someone else nuzzling up beside him, but it took him a while to clear his head enough to check and see who it was. Trey wasn’t surprised to see his best buddy Davis curled up beside him. Trey ran his fingers tenderly through Davis’s jizz-soaked hair. Trey was still having trouble believing everything that had happened, but he couldn’t deny what he was seeing. Davis was barely even half his height. If not for the light dusting of a treasure trail and the neatly trimmed patch of pubes, it would have been easy to mistake Davis for a young child. The massive chubby nestled between Davis’s legs didn’t hurt either. Even soft, Davis’s cock was as big as the rest of him. His almost twice as thick around as his toned, muscular chest. On a regular sized person, Davis’s balls would have appeared to be the size of couches, but there was no way for Trey to gauge just how massive they must be now. Trey brushed Davis’s hair aside and gave his smaller pal a soft kiss on the forehead. Davis chuckled softly and curled up closer against Trey’s chest. Trey wanted to stay there with him and cuddle some more, but as the fog cleared from his head, his curiosity began to get the better of him. He gently pushed away from his pal and sat up. He looked around him and took stock of the devastation. On some level he knew he should be worried, but he just couldn’t seem to care. It wasn’t just the afterglow that was still clinging to him after that titanic orgasm. It was as if every cell in his body was coursing with cosmic energy. He felt so alive and invigorated. He felt so powerful. It was hard for him to worry himself with the ants that scurried down below. As Trey surveyed the horizon he saw many small figures slowly rising from the white expanse. The ground beneath him was dotted with people of various shapes and sizes. Each one was steadily growing. It was fascinating to watch. It was like a time lapse video of flowers breaking through the snow, but these weren’t plants. These were people. Even the largest of these new sprouts was barely as big as Trey’s thumb, but they had to be gigantic to the average person down below. Trey couldn’t help but feel pride at the new race of giants he had brought into existence with his mere presence. Trey heard some talking off to his side and glanced over to see who it was. He saw Mel holding the bent and battered Skeeter’s Cleaners van to his ear like a tiny Bluetooth ear piece. Mel was now absolutely titanic by all normal comprehension, but even he didn’t even reach up to Trey’s knees. “Yeah. Rich. I need you to send every guy we’ve got. … Yeah. Call in everybody. Get the guys at Steele on the line too. Better call up every contact you’ve got while you’re at it. … Big? Have you seen the news? This spill is freakin’ ginormous!” Mel grumbled into his makeshift cellphone. “… Don’t worry about other people getting some. There’s gonna be more than enough for everybody. You can run all the tests you want on this stuff, and you’ll still never run out. I swear. It’s that fuckin’ huge!” Trey smirked as he glanced around at the scene below him. He could see large tanker trucks slurping up as much jizz as they could carry to be hauled off to various labs and storage facilities. The massive trucks were designed to hold an Olympic swimming pool’s worth of liquid, but Trey could have easily held one atop the tip of his pinkie. As he watched the tiny men in hazmat suits struggle to clean up the mess, Trey couldn’t help but chuckle softly. His monolithic cock stirred to life. Even in its flaccid state the enormous tool was as wide as his hips and as long as his legs. It would be truly a sight to behold once it got hard again. He was half tempted to drench the city in his seed once more, but he figured that they had more than enough to clean up for the time being. There were other cities out there that could benefit from his gift. Trey scooped his groggy little friend up in his arms and set off for new horizons. He had always wanted to travel, and at his new size he could walk to neighboring cities in a just a few paces. It wouldn’t take long at all for him to reach the next state or even to cross the country. He could travel wherever he wanted, and wherever he went he could drench the land in growth. As Trey trudged through the cum-coated city he could still feel his size creeping steadily upwards. He had no idea when or even if his growth would ever stop. Maybe he’d outgrow the whole planet with his best buddy at his side. Maybe they would eventually stop growing and live out their lives as a titanic couple. Maybe someday the scientists would find a way to reverse the process and shrink them back down, but for the time being Trey was going to enjoy his new life.

Starting off posting here with one of my more recent stories. I figured I'd start off with this one seeing as I got the idea for the name from a David Bowie song. I'll be steadily cross posting a lot of my muscle growth oriented stuff over here, but I've got a ton of stories over On my tumblr that features both muscle growth and a variety of other themes. --------------------------------------------------------------- No one was more surprised than Kendal when a real live genie sprung forth from the rusted and busted old lamp he picked up at the flea market, but that was partially due to the fact that there was no one else around to see it. Kendal was in the comfort of his own dorm room when he set to work polishing the old lamp in hopes of getting it presentable for the play he and the rest of his team were putting on as part of their final project for his theater class. The whole reason he had gone to the flea market in the first place was to find something that would be passable as a magic lamp for their production of Aladdin. Kendal never dreamed he’d find something anywhere near as authentic – in terms of both form and function! As one would expect he was in for quite a shock when mist started to billow from the tip of the lamp, and he was downright flabbergasted when the mist coalesced into the upper half of a giant, beefy, grinning man. “I am the genie of the lamp.” The mysterious figure said. “And I’m probably hallucinating.” Kendal muttered. If the self-professed genie had heard Kendal’s snarky response he did not let it show on his face. The genie had the same calm, knowing smirk on his face the entire time. After a moment of awkwardly fidgeting in place Kendal finally worked up the nerve to speak up. “So… are you really real? I mean like, you’re a genie right? The wish granting demigod kinda thing?” Kendal asked nervously. “I am no demi-god. I am but a creature bound by strict rules.” The genie replied. “But how much of those stories are true? Like, all the stories tell of genies granting wishes. Is that a real thing you do?” Kendal asked. He was trying to remain skeptical, but the sight of a floating, beefy, blue skinned dude was kind of hard for him to write off as a simple trick of the light. That said he didn’t want to give himself false hope. There was no guarantee that this so called genie was capable of the miraculous feats told about in legends the legends of old, and there was also no guarantee that said genie was at all benevolent. “I see you doubt me.” The genie replied. He didn’t seem at all offended though. In fact he seemed amused more than anything. The sly smirk on his handsome face seemed to be goading Kendal into asking for some sort of demonstration. “Well, can you blame me? Genies are the stuff of fairy tales. I’ve never heard of one actually existing! And what about that lamp? I find it hard to believe that if it was the genuine article that some skeevy shopkeeper in a rundown flea market would be selling it for five dollars.” Kendal replied. “I know of whom you speak. He did not realize what he had in his possession. To him it was yet another damaged knickknack to be sold to the highest bidder. Only the true owner of the lamp may summon the denizen.” The genie explained. “Wait. I don’t get it. That guy wasn’t the true owner, but I am? How is that even possible? Is this some weird destiny type thing? Was I fated to find this lamp?” Kendal sputtered. His mind was racing at a million miles a minute. He had never been anything special. In fact he was about as far from special as one could get. All throughout high school he had been a short, stringy, completely forgettable dweeb whose only real feature was how little he stood out in a crowd. The thought that he could be destined for greatness excited him more than the prospect of a genie and his wishes. “Nothing so grand.” The genie replied flatly. Kendal looked obviously crestfallen, but it didn’t last long for the genie continued his explanation. “The previous owner discarded the lamp once he had received his wishes, but discarding is not the same as relinquishing just as finding is not the same as owning. The next person found it and could find no value in it so he too discarded it. This process continued for centuries – long after the original owner had been dead and buried. In all these years you are the first to obtain the lamp honorably.” “So it’s mine… because I paid for it?” Kendal asked skeptically. “Correct.” The genie replied. “But if the last guy wasn’t the original owner how could he have sold it? Wouldn’t that invalidate the clause or whatever the hell legal jargon genies use?” Kendal asked. “That is not so. You had no way of knowing the history of the lamp. Though it was not purchased from the owner your actions were in line with the code, and since there was no current owner, ownership then fell to you regardless of the multitude of hands it has fallen into.” The genie explained. “Oh…” Kendal replied. “I… I think I need a moment. I still can’t quite believe any of this is real.” “Very well then. I will wait until you are ready to accept the truth. When you are ready we can discuss the matter of your wishes.” The genie explained. “Oh… Ok.” Kendal muttered. He then staggered over to his bed and plopped down on the edge of the mattress so he could take it all in. He was still having trouble soaking it all up. He was as big a skeptic as one could ever hope to find. He never once believed in magic. Even as a little kid he was the guy who constantly would call out the stage magician and reveal the sleight of hand to the others, but even he couldn’t deny what he was seeing, and the genie’s story made some sense. After a few minutes of trying to wrap his mind around it, he finally worked up the nerve to ask another question. “So I have something I would like to ask. I realize it’s a silly question, but um… do you have a name?” Kendal asked. For the first time the genie was taken aback. “In all my millennia you are the first one to ask such a thing.” He replied. “Oh. Sorry. Did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to offend you.” Kendal hurriedly sputtered. “No. No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just been so long…” The genie replied. His words drifted off, and he was seemingly lost in thought. It took a few moments for him to finally snap out of it. When he did finally speak again his words were distant and he seemed distracted. “My name… I’m called… Could that really be my name…? It’s the only name I know… but it’s been so long… Yes. I believe that is correct. Azkaban. I am called Azkaban.” He said slowly. Kendal slowly got up from his bed and walked over towards the towering genie. His fears and doubts were slowly starting to melt away. Somehow seeing the mystic entity so flustered made it easier to believe his words. Once Kendal had crossed the room to where the genie now hovered he held out his hand for Azkaban to shake and said, “Well then, Azkaban. My name’s Kendal. It’s nice to meet you.” The genie was once again taken aback by Kendal’s actions, but he reached out and shook Kendal’s hand despite his confusion. “It’s good to meet you too…” He replied. “So… How does this work anyway? I mean. You say I get wishes, but I don’t know if I want them… I mean, don’t get me wrong! The thought of being able to wish for something is exciting! It’s just like a fairy tale, but for every happy fairy tale there are just as many horror stories! It’s not that I don’t trust you, but how do I know you won’t somehow turn all my wishes into curses or something messed up like that?” Kendal rattled on nervously. “I see what you mean… I am bound by the code to honor your wishes. I do get some leeway in how to grant them, but as for if you can trust me… I suppose there is nothing for you to do other than make a wish. You may request three wishes, and I will honor those wishes as I see fit.” Azkaban explained. Kendal was relieved to see that the genie did not appear at all offended. In fact he seemed impressed by Kendal’s restraint and foresight, but whether or not that is what the genie was really thinking Kendal had no way of knowing. What Kendal did know was that Azkaban was right. There really was no way to guarantee this wasn’t some demonic plot or some monkey paw-esque nightmare until he took the plunge and made a wish. Kendal mulled it over for a minute. There were so many things he could ask for. He could ask for wealth, for power. He could ask for immortality or eternal youth. He could ask for any of the cliché things that fairy tale characters asked for… but none of those were what he really wanted. Kendal’s gaze fell upon the full length mirror that hung from the back of his bedroom door. He could see himself clearly in the glass panel; his shrimpy body; his slight stature; and even though he couldn’t see anything that would really indicate how much he was packing due to the clothes he was wearing, the lack of any discernable bulge said enough. What he really wanted more than anything was to not be so damn small. He wanted to be big. He wanted to be strong. He wanted to be HUNG! Kendal thought back to mission trip he got roped into going on by his parents last year. The trip had been alright as far as church functions go, but what really stood out was the evening communal showers. Kendal had known he was interested in dudes for ages, but seeing Dylan in all his beefy, nude glory as he soaped down those huge muscles and fantastic cock had helped dispel any belief that Kendal may have had that he was anything other than totally, 100%, unabashedly gay. Kendal was a year older than the guy, but he felt like a kid next to the studly jock. It was with the image of the school’s star quarterback in all his naked glory seared into his mind that Kendal turned to face the genie and make his demands. “I want to be bigger.” Kendal said. “Bigger?” The genie replied skeptically. “No. Not just bigger. Bigger. I want to be bigger. I want to be stronger. I want to be better hung. You know? Not just a slightly bigger dick. I want A LOT bigger dick.” Kendal rattled off excitedly. “I see…” The genie replied. He seemed to mull it over for a moment and then nodded. “If that is your wish then say it.” “It is! It is what I wish! I wish to be bigger!” Kendal replied. He was excited before, but now he was positively giddy. The thought of being anyway near as hot as that beefy stud in the showers filled him with no small amount of excitement and devilish glee. He couldn’t wait to see how huge he got. Already his mind was racing. What if he got to be as big as Dylan? … what if he got to be even bigger? “Very well. It is done. You shall now grow bigger in all the ways you specified.” The genie replied. He snapped his fingers which caused a bolt of lightning to arc from his hand and nail Kendal straight in the chest. Kendal half expected to be smote when he stood, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that he was indeed not reduced to a singe mark on the carpet. He was very much alive and in fact felt stronger and healthier than ever before. Kendal stared down at his body. He could already feel the changes setting in. They were slight at first, but he could feel them ramping up. He felt stronger. His arms felt firmer and tighter. He could feel the soft layer of pudge on his belly melting away. Kendal spun around to stare into the mirror across the room. He could see that he was a few inches taller than he had been mere seconds ago. He was no longer a 5’4” shrimp. He was now well on his way to being tall, and there was no telling how much bigger he would get before all was said and done. Kendal wasn’t too focused on his height though. He could already see his muscles starting to press against his once loose t-shirt. He had gone from being pretty spindly with just a bit of a paunch around his belly to looking fit as hell. He looked like a lean, toned, swimmer ready to compete for the gold medal. His once loose shirt now stretched taut across his toned pecs and his well-defined abs. His once baggy shorts now gripped his swelling quads like a second skin. His bottom hem of his shorts once dangled down around his knees, but now only reached halfway down his thighs. Kendal watched in awe as he grew and grew. His too-small t-shirt slowly crept up along his abs as he steadily outgrew it. His once baggy shirt soon looked like an undersized crop top. His once loose shorts soon looked like ridiculously tiny running shorts. His muscles looked phenomenal and were getting bigger by the second. His once flat, unremarkable chest now had a set of pecs that looked like large, extra firm, king sized pillows. His abs were so thick and well defined that light couldn’t even reach the depths of those fantastic trenches which were etched into his abdomen, but for all the changes his muscles and height had gone through they paled in comparison to what was going on between his legs. Kendal gawked at the obscene bulge in his shorts. His shorts were already too small for him even without the surplus of sausage swinging between his legs, but with the added mass of a cock that was easily a foot long his pants looked ready to burst at any second. Kendal couldn’t say the exact size for sure, but the hefty piece of meat was as long as his forearm and every bit as thick as his wrist and then some! Kendal winced in pain. His shorts were simply too small, and his cock was simply too big. Something had to give. Fortunately his pants didn’t last much longer. The front of his once loose basketball shorts split open allowing his massive cock the spill out. Kendal tried to let out a sigh of relief but at the same time gasped in shock at what he saw. The net result was that the air caught in his throat as he gawked at his immense cock. He had vastly underestimate the sheer size of it! Even in its chubbed up state the behemoth was as thick as his neck and dangled to his shins! His low hanging fruit appeared to be the size of basketballs, but given his new and improved stature, Kendal figured they were probably closer in size to schoolhouse globes. Kendal could merely stand there and gawk at the changes that had gone on in his body. He was now huge. He was beyond huge. He was massive! His head almost reached the roof of his bedroom. His body was now so broad and brawny that his beefy, barrel chest was twice as wide as his door frame. His meaty pecs looked like mattresses. Each individual, burly bump on his deeply trenched eight pack abs was as big as a football. His biceps bulged out like basketballs. His massive quads were as thick as an oak tree, and his cock was even thicker. The head of his enormous schlong now rested solidly on the ground, and that was even after having to drop over his enormous ball sack which was filled with two low-hanging orbs that were easily the size of beanbag chairs. His pair of nuts now dangled so low that they almost scraped the floor even though he was standing as straight and tall as he could get, and Kendal had no doubt that in the next minute or two his nuts would rest solidly on the floor! “Um… Not complaining, but just how much bigger am I going to get?” Kendal stammered. He was far larger than he had ever dared dream possible, and he was still growing. He wanted to be huge, but this huge? He didn’t know if he could go through life like this! He was a freak, but at the same time he couldn’t deny how hot as hell he had become. His hands couldn’t stop exploring every inch of his newly enhanced body. His firm, thick muscles felt fantastic, and his massive, beefy, muscle booty felt even better. “You did not specify. You merely wished to be ‘bigger’.” Azkaban explained. “That’s not really an answer.” Kendal murmured blissfully as he stroked his expanding muscles. By this point his cock was as long as he was tall and was well past a semi. It wouldn’t be long before it was rock hard and bigger than he was. “Isn’t it though? You wished to be bigger, and so bigger you shall be until such a time that you wish it to stop.” The genie explained. “I have to use another wish to stop it?” Kendal asked. He tried his best to be incredulous, but he was so blissfully enthralled by his growth that his question came out as a soft, contented murmur. “If you ever wish to stop, yes.” The genie explained. Kendal tried his best to formulate an argument, but he just couldn’t do it – in part because he was feeling too fantastic to really concentrate on much and in part because he knew better than the demand a do over with a super powered spirit. “I really need to stop growing…” Kendal murmured. “But do you wish it?” Azkaban replied. Kendal couldn’t reply. He merely sat back against the wall and stroked his expanding muscles. His bed creaked noisily under the weight of his expanding ass. Already he had grown so huge and beefy that his booty filled up the entire bed. The extra-long twin sized mattress was more like a footrest than a futon. Kendal had to hunch down to keep from hitting his head against the ceiling. He knew he was huge. He was beyond huge. He was absolutely massive. He was far too large to get through his day to day life, but he just couldn’t care enough to want it to stop. He loved every pound of muscle he packed on. He loved every inch of cock he added. He was tempted to call the genie’s bluff and just let himself grow indefinitely. He chuckled softly as he imagined himself outgrowing the entire dorm. He could only imagine the looks on his friends’ and classmates’ faces as he beheld his mammoth form. His daydreams took a dark turn. Instead of his friends being excited and aroused by his magnificently massive body they stared on in horror as his growing bulk outgrew the dorm and spilled out into the quad. People were running and screaming like something out of a Godzilla flick. It was then that Kendal realized how freakish he must look to others. The moment of horror was enough to shake him from his stupor, but the sudden crack of the bed snapping like a twig beneath him snapped him the rest of the way out of it. “I need to stop!” Kendal sputtered. “But do you wish it?” the genie asked again. “I… I need…” Kendal murmured. He just couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was one simple word, but as much as he knew he needed to stop he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. It felt so good. Part of him wanted to keep growing. Part of him wanted to keep getting bigger and stronger and sexier. “It will stop only if you wish it to.” The genie said calmly. “I need it to stop… I must stop…” Kendal mumbled softly under his breath. He knew he needed to act fast. With each second he waited the bliss and euphoria grew… as did the rest of him. If he didn’t stop soon he doubted he’d be able to stop at all. Kendal let out a disgruntled sigh and softly muttered, “I wish for it to stop…” “Your wish is my command.” The genie replied. He once again snapped his finger, and Kendal was once again struck by a bolt of pure magical energy that erupted from the genie’s fingertips. Kendal instinctively winced upon impact, but he felt no pain at all. In fact he felt a surge of relief wash over him. It was as if every muscle in his body had been holding its breath in anticipation, but now they had all let out a sigh of relief. The sensation was borderline orgasmic, but as he slowly came down from the euphoric high the true enormity of his situation began to dawn on him. Even though he was seated flat on his ass on the floor of his dorm, Kendal still had to hunch over to not hit his head on the ceiling. His room was an easy ten feet floor to ceiling, and Kendal could tell that he would be almost twice that height if he actually stood up. Kendal’s broad, muscular, barrel chest was so huge that his shoulders pressed against either side of his bedroom. His pecs alone were as big as billboards. Each individual, deeply trenched, incredibly swole abdominal muscle was easily as large as a king sized pillow. His Adonis Belt alone was thick enough to for an average sized guy to cling to it like a body pillow. Kendal’s thick, muscular quads were easily as thick as redwood tree trunks, but as massive as his musculature was, it paled in comparison to his cock and balls. Kendal’s cock stretched out in front of him and pressed against the wall on the opposite end of the room. His fully boned dick had to be every bit as long as he was tall if not even longer. Either one of his enormous nuts was every bit as big as his impossibly broad, brawny torso, and his dick itself was every bit as wide as his broad, barrel chest. To say he and his dick were massive would be an understatement. It was positively titanic. “Woah…” Kendal murmured in awe. “So you like what you see?” Azkaban asked impishly. “Well… yeah, but… I can’t be seen like this…” Kendal replied. “So then you wish to be smaller once more?” The genie asked. Kendal balked at the suggestion. It wasn’t just that he had learned not to be so vague with sizes. There was a part of him that genuinely didn’t want to shrink back down. He had tasted godliness, and the last thing he wanted was to be just another shrimp… but option did he have? He couldn’t actually go through his life like this, could he? “I… I dunno… I don’t want to be small. I want to keep being big – bigger than any other guy out there. I love how I am right now, but I can’t go through life as a freak…” Kendal lamented. “I think I understand. If that is your wish I will be glad to oblige.” The genie replied. Kendal balked once more. He didn’t think that the genie was pulling his leg. Something about the way Azkaban replied gave Kendal the impression that the genie was being absolutely sincere, but Kendal still had no idea what his own wish was. What could he even ask for in this situation? He was stuck between a cock and a hard place. Kendal glanced down at the genie. Azkaban seemed positively puny next to the now massive, muscular theater nerd. Kendal spent the next few moments in quiet contemplation as he tried to size up the genie and his motives. Eventually Kendal decided to go for it. The genie seemed to understand what Kendal wanted even if he himself did not. Kendal let out a sigh and steeled his resolve. He swallowed once to clear the lump in his throat and help soothe his nerves, but he had succeeded at doing neither. “Ok.” He said nervously. “Ok. That is what I wish.” “And it is my duty to see your wish granted!” Azkaban roared triumphantly. The enthusiasm with which the genie replied took Kendal by surprise, but the lightshow that ensues amazed him even more. The genie raised his hand up high and snapped his fingers once more. This time the resulting crack split the air which such force that Kendal thought his eardrums might implode. Lightning arced from the genie’s fingertips. Bolts of magic arced through the air and went every which way, and yet not so much as a single errant spark fell upon Kendal’s immense form. The light show continued for what seemed like hours. Kendal had no idea what the genie could possibly be doing that would require so much magic nor was he able to ask. He was still far too baffled and dazed to formulate a question when the lights died down. Azkaban looked bushed. He teetered on the edge of exhaustion. “It is done.” He rasped. “That was your third and final wish.” “What did you do?” Kendal asked. “You shall see, but for now I must take my leave. That wish sapped even my near infinite cosmic powers. I must rest now, but before I go I wish to say it was nice to have met you…” The genie mumbled softly. With that Azkaban collapsed from exhaustion, but his body never reached the ground. His bulky form dissolved into a cloud of purple mist which then retreated back into the old, rusted lamp from whence it came. Just like that the genie was gone from Kendal’s life, but the effects of their short time together would be felt for ages to come. Kendal slowly looked over his body. It was every bit as huge as it had been moments ago. He still filled up just about every inch of space in his now sorely undersized dorm room. Apparently the genie’s last magic trick had not affected him personally, but if it didn’t affect him then who had it affected? Kendal wasn’t given too much time to think about it though. No sooner had he started mulling it over than the wall on the opposite side of his room shifted over as if the entire wall was one giant sliding door. Kendal looked up in shock just in time to see his best buddy step through the entrance. Kendal would recognize his buddy Keith anywhere, but even he could hardly believe that the dude before him was his best pal. Keith’s face was unmistakable, but the rest of him was completely different! Keith had been every bit as scraggly as Kendal had been, but now he had to crouch just to walk into Kendal’s dorm. He was still shorter than Kendal by a good margin, but he had to be a good foot or two taller than the ceiling. He hadn’t just grown taller either. He had muscles stacked on top of muscles. His tiny t-shirt was wrapped so tightly across his chest that Kendal could make out the very contours of his buddy’s pecs. Not that Kendal really had to use his imagination much anyway. Keith’s shirt didn’t even stretch halfway down across his pecs. The bottom hem of his shirt stopped just above his nipples leaving those thick, puffy nubs exposed for all to see. Keith had packed on so much muscle onto his already huge frame that his broad, barrel chest was at least double, probably triple the width of an averagely proportioned person of the same height. He was every bit as wide as a moving van, and his impressively fat cock – while only about as long as his legs – was every bit as thick as his waist, and it wasn’t even fully hard! Kendal took a moment to soak up the image of his best bud’s burly new body. Fortunately Keith’s choice in attire made that a very easy task to do. Keith was clad in pair of tennis shoes, a tiny t-shirt which was so short and so small that it wouldn’t even really classify as a crop top, and absolutely nothing in between. Keith’s fat cock rested atop two massive nuts which filled their tight sack. His humongous, tight ball sack filled out every inch of space between his crotch and his ankles. Even though Kendal couldn’t see Keith’s quads from behind those immense nuts, Kendal had no reason to doubt they were just as big and beefy as the rest of his best bro. “Hey! What’s the hold up? We’ve got rehearsal in twenty minutes.” Keith said casually. Kendal’s size and nudity didn’t even seem to faze him. “Sorry. I guess I lost track of time.” Kendal replied. He was completely baffled about what was going on, but he figured his best course of action was just to play along for the time being. “I’ll say. You haven’t even put your shoes on yet… Or did you need help with that again? I know how hard it is for you to bend over especially in this little crap hole of a dorm. Seriously dude! Put in for a transfer already! You’re the biggest dude on campus. You shouldn’t be living in one of the little dude dorms. Not when a new mega dorm just opened up across the quad!” Keith grumbled. “Yeah. I guess I have kind of put that off too long, haven’t I…” Kendal replied awkwardly. “Yeah. I’ll say.” Keith scoffed, but his playful act of derision halted mid eye-roll as his gaze fell upon the lamp. “Oooh. Is this the thing? Can I see it?” He asked, but he didn’t wait for a response. He had already bent down and had picked up the rusted relic and was already rubbing some of the dinge off of it. “Um… sure. Help yourself.” Kendal replied. He half expected Azkaban to pop out and start dispensing more wishes, but it looked like the genie wasn’t going to be making any more appearances any time soon… at least not until Kendal relinquished ownership anyway. Kendal couldn’t help but stare at his best bro in awe. Even just the slight action of scrubbing the lamp caused Keith’s already impressive muscles to bulge even more. Seeing that immense brawn in action was like poetry in motion, but Kendal’s show was suddenly interrupted when Keith’s eyes fell upon his watch. “Oh, shit. We’re gonna be late.” Keith grumbled. He then nodded towards the wall behind Kendal and said, “Go step outside. I’ll get you something to wear. We’ll have to hurry if we’re gonna make it.” Kendal wasn’t sure what Keith meant, but he didn’t think it would make any sense if he asked for clarification so he merely acted like he knew what he was doing. Kendal glanced over towards where Keith had gestured, and to his surprise he saw a very distinct handle sticking out of the side of his wall. He grabbed the handle and pulled and then marveled as his wall slid aside like a side door on a van. The wall opened up directly onto the quad. The large, open, grassy park was full of hot, beefy, hung dudes. It seemed like every guy in the world was now massive, muscular, and packing more meat than a burger chain. Even the ‘smallest’ guys were well over eight feet tall, built like a Mr. Universe competitor, and looked like they had a king size pillow and a couple of basketballs stuffed into their shorts, but as Kendal stood up to his full height he realized that these guys didn’t even come up to his crotch. His cock alone dwarfed their entire bodies. Even just one of his enormous nuts was bigger and heavier than some of the guys out there. “Here. Let me help you get these on.” Kendal heard Keith say. Kendal turned and glanced over at his pal, and saw the Keith was holding a few articles of clothing. “Do I really need to wear those?” Kendal asked. He was feeling so huge and sexy that it seemed a shame to cover up, and it wasn’t like anyone else out there seemed to care about modesty. Outfits like Keith’s seemed commonplace, and there were quite a few guys clad in nothing more than jogging shoes. “Whatever dude. If you want to drag your balls across the concrete I won’t stop you, but it’s 90 degrees out and we have to cross asphalt. I’m just trying to save you a couple of baked potatoes.” Keith replied playfully. “Right. Good point.” Kendal replied. Kendal then looked down at the extra-large pair of briefs and began to realize the problems his huge size presented. How was he even supposed to put them on? He could barely bend over due to all the muscles in the way, and his enormous cock and balls made squatting down a chore and a half as well. “So… you gonna help me out here?” Kendal asked. “Of course.” Keith replied as he laid Kendal’s shorts out for him on the grass. Keith then playfully bowed and gestured towards the garment. “Your chariot awaits.” He said playfully. Kendal took the jokes in stride and even managed a comically wry, “That will be all, Jeeves.” He then stepped into the leg holes of the tiny pair of briefs. Keith wasted no time – in part because they had no time to waste, and in part because he loved this part of the day. Any chance to get up close and personal with Kendal’s enormous nuts was a wonderful experience, and this time didn’t disappoint. Keith all but mashed his face into his pal’s massive ball sack as he pulled the fabric up and over his buddy’s nuts. He could actually feel the heat emanating from his pal’s balls. Kendal’s nuts were so huge, so soft, so warm… “Ok. Ok. You can snuggle up against my sack tonight, but weren’t you the one saying we had to hurry or we’d be late?” Kendal sassed playfully. “Oh… Oh, yeah. Right…” Keith murmured. He quickly hopped to his feet and tried to act like he hadn’t totally just been trying to spoon his buddy’s ball sack, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. His eyes kept drifting down towards the overstuffed pouch of his best pal’s pants. It wasn’t right to call them pants really. They barely even classified as a thong much less briefs. The front of his thong was filled so full of balls that the rest of the garment had been stretch into a series of super thin spaghetti straps. The back strap had been completely swallowed by his huge, bubbly, muscular butt cheeks making it appear – when viewed from the back at least – as though he wasn’t wearing anything at all, and the view from the front was no less lurid. The small, triangular swath of fabric didn’t even cover the front half of his ball sack. It was a miracle of modern engineering that the small bit of fabric managed to keep his nuts off the ground at all let alone kept them from shifting around too much as he walked. This of course meant there was simply no room for his colossal schlong to fit in there alongside his balls, but Kendal was just fine with that. It felt so much better to just let his enormous semi loll about in front of him. It wasn’t like anyone was complaining anyway. In fact it seemed like just about everyone stared on at Kendal’s enormous cock with gazes filled with lust, envy, and out and out reverence. Kendal stepped into his shoes much the same way he had stepped into his briefs. Keith of course was there to help every step of the way. It only took a moment for the two of them to be ready to make their way over towards the theater building and prepare for their rehearsal. The entire way there Kendal made sure to check out the changes his wishes had wrought. Everywhere he went, everywhere he looked he saw dudes – massive dudes. Each one seemingly hotter, beefier, and better hung than the last, and yet not one of them came close to rivaling the sheer enormity of Kendal’s massive, burly bod or his colossal cock and balls. In fact very few of them came close to rivaling even Keith’s impressive proportions, and even he only came up to Kendal’s midriff. Kendal had never intended for anything quite like this to happen when he had made his wishes. He had never dreamed of growing anywhere near this large nor had he ever intended to make others grow with him, but seeing the results of his wishes he knew he wouldn’t want it any other way. Azkaban clearly knew more about what Kendal really wanted than even Kendal himself had. It was just a shame that there had been only three wishes… Kendal glanced over to see his buddy unabashedly checking out his package as they walked. Already ideas were formulating in his head. Already Kendal was thinking that maybe, just maybe, once the play was over and they no longer needed the lamp as a cheap prop, he could give it as a gift to his best friend and biggest fan.

‘Calm down Jamie and tell me exactly how you are feeling right now.’ ‘I’m just…..fed up Dr. Willpower. I have tried dating multiple times before and it just ends up the same way. I admit that I have high expectations, but lately I pushed them aside because I feel like I am never going to find that special man in my life.’ The matchmaker sits back in his chair and rubs his reddish brown beard before tugging on his glasses a bit. He gets a look on his face that makes Jamie wonder what he is thinking about. ‘It is okay Jamie. You were referred to me for a reason. I don’t operate my business like a lot of those stupid websites do asking for personal information. I do need to spend a little time with you though just to get a handle on where your head is. Hmm…..I am going to conduct a physical attraction test with you okay?’ Jamie seems to think this is going to go in a sexual direction and sort of gets a nasty look on his face. ‘Uhh, what do you mean physical attraction? Do you mean……sex?’ Dr. Willpower shows his pearly whites and unbuttons one of his top buttons on his shirt revealing a tuft of chest hair that seems to glisten just a little. Jamie seems to react in a way that suggests he is into fur. ‘Uh huh, it is okay Jamie if you are slightly aroused. I am just trying to figure out what you like in your mates. Now I am going to unbutton the next one and this will tell me if you are a fan of something else.’ The button is undone revealing Dr. Willpower’s hairy pec shelf which is quite thick and beefy. The round boulders ripple slowly as he makes them bounce up and down. Jamie moans deeply as he sees them hugging the doctor’s shirt very tightly. He tries to look away but can’t help but to watch the matchmaker as his huge arms strain against the shirt sleeves. The thick baseball-sized muscles bulge as he sits with his hands in his lap. He makes them contract a few times making Jamie sort of sigh a bit. The doctor picks up a pen and jots a few words down on his PDA before looking up and smiling. He gets up from his chair to walk over to the other side of his desk to where Jamie is sitting. ‘Jamie, you like hairy muscle don’t you? It is okay to admit this because I have to make sure I find the right man for you. I am not trying to seduce you like you might be thinking. What else do you like on men physically?’ Jamie looks up at the doctor and seems a bit distraught. He is moving erratically in his chair as the matchmaker positions himself in front of his client. The hunky doctor looks him straight in the eyes before leaning down to give him a nice bearhug. Jamie puts his arms around the muscled man’s back and slowly rubs it lovingly before letting out a nice sigh. ‘It’s alright buddy to feel this way about muscle. So if I find you a man with a decent amount of size, you would be okay with it?’ Jamie grips him tightly and almost completely loses sight of why he is even there. Dr. Willpower proceeds to ask him the question again. ‘Jamie, do you like how my muscles feels against you? Hmmm…..I think I need to ask you this…..have you never been with a muscular man before?’ Jamie mumbles a few words before the matchmaker pulls away from him. ‘Let me put a little distance in front of us so you can focus a little better. You don’t really have to answer, I figured you hadn’t Jamie. The way you were clinging to me was kind of like a first-time reaction.’ Jamie looks at him embarrassed. ‘Yes, you are right doctor. I have never been with or dated a muscleman before. Guys with your build have always been out of my league. I just can’t get past the fact that I am out of shape and ordinary.’ Dr. Willpower pulls up a chair close to them and sits beside Jamie. He takes one of his client’s hands and places it on his huge hairy left pec which nearly falls out of his shirt. Jamie’s pupils dilate as he feels the matchmaker’s beating heart as well as his pec rippling under his hand. The doctor produces a little smile that makes the young man feel a little calmer. ‘I think I can be a great friend to you Jamie. I want to help you find your soulmate so please don’t be afraid to tell me anything that might be on your mind. It is my goal to build your confidence up and have nothing to lose and everything to gain.’ ‘Umm okay? *continues to feel the doctor’s pulsing pec against his hand* How long are you going to keep my hand there Dr. Willpower?’ The matchmaker bounces his pecs making Jamie accidentally bounce his cock in his pants. ‘As long as it takes to make you relax for me Jamie. I want you to feel comfortable and not so restrained, this is part of the exercise.’ ‘I uhhh…..can’t handle the pec bouncing…..*feels his cock getting closer to bursting*…..it is getting me aroused……’ Dr. Willpower can see him struggling to keep his composure and releases his hand from his chest. ‘It’s okay Jamie, I don’t want to embarrass you anymore.’ The matchmaker gets up and completely unbuttons his shirt. As he pulls it off, Jamie gasps as the doctor’s enormous shoulders and traps are staring him directly in the face. The blanket of red fur on his upper back makes Jamie nearly lose his load. The matchmaker slowly turns his head to the side before he turns back around to reveal his huge ab slabs and heaving furry pecs. ‘How are you feeling Jamie? Are you distressed now? My body is not necessarily typical of most men but I do work hard to look like this. Would you say you want your soulmate to look like me?’ ‘Uhh I think I do doctor. Your body is absolutely beautiful, such incredible muscularity and the fur looks so great on it……gawd I am having trouble breathing.’ ‘I shouldn’t have taken my shirt off Jamie I’m sorry.’ He goes to get a jacket and puts it over his upper body before he sits back down in his captain’s chair. ‘I think I took the wrong approach with you. I have been a bit indulgent I think, the narcissist in me couldn’t resist. Anyway, I want you to spend about thirty minutes on this database I am going to upload on a screen for you. It will lift up from right arm of your chair Jamie. Do not rush through it though. I want you to pick one man from the entire list and submit it to me. My computer will then access your selection over here on my desk. I will leave you alone during this time so you can focus on making a decision. When I return, I will determine whether or not I think you are genuinely making the right choice. Remember take your time on this, but don’t panic if you come close to the deadline.’ Jamie makes a gesture that he is ready to continue. The screen pops up from inside the arm of the chair and immediately lights up. Dr. Willpower leaves to go down the corridor of his office as the database loads. It isn’t long before the young client realizes that he has a lot of different tastes in men. He starts to mumble to himself a bit as he sees various guys that may interest him. Fifteen minutes go by and he still hasn’t made a selection. He stands to take a break as it seems to overwhelm him a little. The matchmaker peers around the corner to look at him before he sneaks in slowly behind. The young man sort of feels his mind drifting as he looks out the window of the office. Dr. Willpower places his hands on Jamie’s shoulders and rubs them a little. He sighs as he feels them relaxing and turns to lean against the hot doctor’s chest. ‘I uhhh…..I think I may have found a few that I like doctor, but I am having a hard time focusing on just choosing one.’ ‘It’s okay Jamie. I think you actually need a little bit of stress relief. I have a solution for that.’ The matchmaker takes his jacket off and undoes his pants to pull them down. His hairy quads glisten as he kicks his pants to the side. He pulls Jamie into his chest and rubs his back. Jamie moans as he starts to kiss the doctor’s chest. ‘Mmmmm feels good Jamie. I think this is going to be a productive session after all.’ Jamie moans loudly as he runs his tongue up and down the matchmaker’s thick hairy chest. He cups Willpower’s ass which gets a strong reaction from the muscled doctor. ‘Yeah Jamie, I am sensing a thirst for power inside you. You have repressed this for far too long I can tell. Don’t be afraid to let loose on me, I can make you fulfill your destiny.’ The client runs his tongue down along the doctor’s thick knobby abs rubbing his lips against them and moaning deeply. He rubs his face on the hair that trickles down underneath the matchmaker’s black underwear. The doctor can see that Jamie wants to taste his big cock as it grows from inside his tight briefs. Jamie starts to run his fingers along the lengthening shaft which makes the matchmaker shutter a bit. ‘Mmmm Jamie you are getting me all hot buddy. I want you to just dive in and get more acquainted with my cock if you don’t mind.’ The doctor pulls his undies off as his huge throbbing cock bounces in front of Jamie’s face. His eyes light up instantly as the engorged head slaps him on his cheek. The doctor rubs his client’s brown hair and pulls him in to touch it with his lips. Jamie opens his mouth as he tastes the big pink cockhead and sighs as he does it. His hands reach around to rub the doctor’s hairy bubble butt. ‘Oh yeah Jamie…..go ahead and puts a few fingers in me man. Warm me up a bit so I can make cum for you.’ The horny young man shoves two fingers inside the matchmaker’s ass and slowly moves them in and out of his hole. He gulps down the doctor’s huge rod and works it over in a steady rhythm. ‘Yeah that’s it Jamie…..I promise you that finding another mate won’t be that difficult after this.’ Jamie stops sucking after a few minutes to move down to suck on the doctor’s balls individually as they start to swell up. Jamie notices that the doctor’s ass is starting to loosen up as it quickly swallows his hand that was leaning against his hole. He moves it in and out in short bursts making the matchmaker moan in his deep manly voice. ‘MMMM buddy, you are starting to make me precum. Come back up and catch some of it on your tongue.’ Jamie pulls his hand out and moves back up to the muscly doctor’s cock and gobbles it down sucking slowly and methodically. The doctor growls as he makes his client moan tasting the sticky stream flowing down his throat. ‘Keep going Jamie, it won’t be long now before you can think more clearly.’ The eager young man sucks faster on him as the matchmaker breathes heavier massaging Jamie’s shoulders. He can feel a load building inside his balls as they begin to contract. The cum begins to move up inside his cock until he makes Jamie stop sucking. ‘Whoa there buddy. Let me calm down a little…..whew I know you want to change your social status but let’s just take a few moments to let this sink in.’ Jamie looks up at Dr. Willpower’s face with a lusty glare before kissing his matchmaker’s cock. The muscled stud smiles down at him and speaks for a few moments. *trying to keep his thoughts straight* ‘Ahh, you have me right on the edge Jamie, but I have to warn you about this. I can actually change the way you look just by feeding you my cum. I can see that you want this badly, but remember that there is no turning back once you consume it.’ ‘I don’t want to think about it Dr. Willpower…..feed me your cum hot man…..I want to feel empowered.’ Jamie goes back to working his doctor’s cock which begins to throb harder than before. The doctor can feel it starting to flow back into his cock again as Jamie moans loudly. He opens his mouth to watch it spray out Willpower’s cock slit and land inside his mouth. The white jets coat his throat and immediately begin to absorb into his bloodstream. The client can feel his body reacting to the cum right away as his back starts to stretch wider. Still with the matchmaker’s cock firmly inside his mouth, he moans feeling himself growing. Dr. Willpower grins as he sees Jamie’s metamorphosis occurring. ‘Oh yeah Jamie just let it overtake you, this always excites me to see my clients fulfill their muscular destinies.’ Dr. Willpower watches as Jamie’s back splits the back of his shirt before his jeans rip down the seams. The immense quads burst outward as his ass rips a huge hole into the fabric. His upper body continues to wreck havoc on his shirt as his shoulders and traps rip their way out the top. His shirt falls past his chest as his abs begin to reveal themselves from within his belly. His chubby tits stretch and pull their way further outward until they are in a uniform position. He moans as his nipples grow bigger to keep up with the swelling beef filling in where there was once fat on his pecs. This coincides with the emergence of his growing lats. He yells passionately as his arms thicken up making the veins pulse against his skin as they swell filling with more blood. The stretching and popping sounds from inside his arms make both men ooze precum. The doctor leans down to run his hands against the growing flesh. He growls a bit knowing that Jamie is becoming a new confident muscleman. Finally, Jamie’s jeans completely fall off revealing a huge hard cock ready to burst as the veins engorge with blood. The growing young client reaches down to stroke it as massive jets of cum go flying all over the doctor’s floor. Dr. Willpower picks up his new muscular client off the ground and gives him a nice big kiss on his lips. Jamie’s face has changed slightly as his boyish looks now resemble a more mature version of himself. His hidden dimples now show through as a cleft in his chin emerges too. Facial hair has started to grow as brown stubble now covers his formerly clean-cut face. The overweight client is no more as he embraces his matchmaker rubbing his neck and shoulders. Dr. Willpower massages Jamie slowly feeling his thick rippling muscles in his back and rubs their thick beefy pecs together. Jamie humps his matchmaker’s cock voraciously trying to make the doctor fuck him, but he resists. The frottage gets to be too much for Willpower though as he blows another huge load all over Jamie’s insanely muscled ass. ‘Oh my gawd man, you are a stunner. I know you want to be fucked, but I just can’t give you any more cum. You look great the way you are now frankly. In fact, the next step in this process is to find a man for you that equal your hot body and your great personality. That shouldn’t be too hard.’ *in a much deeper voice* ‘Wow I feel like I have been reborn Dr. Willpower. I did fear that I would lose my mind from this transformation, but I think I am still the same guy. You were right about me being different deep down inside. I have fantasized about being huge and muscular, but I wanted to retain a lot of my integrity. I really had no idea that this would happen to me. Working out was never an option for me before so you helped to eliminate that. Thank you.’ ‘Well you will have to work out a lot now Jamie. This is just like real life, except I probably got rid of about two years of training for you. Anyway, I notice that you are still in need of some relief. I think you wanted this earlier……*points to his eager hole* My hole is definitely hungry for some protein, do you mind if you can feed it for me? *winks*’ Jamie grins at him and immediately plugs his huge cock inside the doctor to start pounding him. Willpower growls with each thrust as he slowly starts to sit on top of Jamie’s huge tree trunks. Halfway in between the fucking, the doctor turns his head around and says, ‘by the way you can call me Wilfried if you want Jamie, I think we are past the introductions now. I personally like you and will do everything I can to find a soulmate for you.’ Check out more stories here: https://muscle-growth.org/user/119-ravenweremuscle/

RUSSIAN MUSCLE BY GLAMLEATHERPUNK (Author's note: This story was inspired by a calendar picture of a young Russian stud which I saw on the Joe Phillips website (www.joephillips.com). The picture itself has since been “retired” from active use. It also commemorates the Chernobyl nuclear disaster, now 30 years ago.) January 2013: It was a bitterly cold day—not an uncommon occurrence in Moscow, the capital of Russia, in the dead of winter. Indeed, there was a thick layer of dark gray clouds hanging low in the sky, This, together with the snowflakes swirling and dancing in the late afternoon sunlight that somehow managed to pierce through the cloud bank, gave the many towers and turrets of some of the many historic buildings in downtown Moscow an almost magical appearance. What made the scene look even more magical, however, was the incredibly handsome young Russian stud that stood in front of the cameras which were busily snapping pictures of him. The traditional fur hat covered his dark brown hair just enough to act as an accent to his marvelously light blue—in fact, almost silvery blue—eyes. Although he was wearing a heavy fur jacket, it was open, allowing his slen-der chest and torso to be displayed to maximum advantage. The remainder of his outfit consisted of blue jeans which were just tight enough to show off his legs and package without being obscene about it, along with knee-high black platform boots trimmed with fur at the top. The young stud's face would, in the West, be referred to as that of a “pretty boy,” with cheekbones, nose, and lips which were in perfect balance with one another. His lips, in fact, were posed in a slight but sexy smirk, yet at the same time were full enough, and pouty enough, to all but dare onlookers to kiss him. With the photo assignment completed, the young Russian quickly returned to the limousine which had been parked out of camera range. “Br-r-r!” he exclaimed, shivering for a moment or two. The teen-aged Russian girl seated across from him snorted in amusement. “Cold, Alexei?” she asked, somewhat sardonically. “You'll find out soon enough, Natasha,” her brother shot back. “It's your turn now!” In response, the young Russian beauty bared her sparkling white teeth in a quick grimace, as she went outside for her part of the photo shoot. A few moments later, Natasha returned to the limousine, shivering just like her twin brother. Now it was Alexei Romanov's turn to smirk and snort with amusement, as the limousine's powerful engine came to life with a velvety thrum. As the luxury vehicle smoothly moved into the downtown traffic, the two siblings snuggled up to one another affectionately. A few minutes later, the limousine pulled up at the front door of the five-star hotel where the Romanovs were staying. As they rode up in the elevator to their penthouse suite, they could not help thinking of a friend of theirs back in America—specifically, New York City. Although the twins had been born in Russia, they were naturalized American citizens, and had been for several years now. They had come back to the land of their birth only to settle some legal matters concerning their family, and had been offered the photo assignment by their modeling agency's Moscow office at the last minute. Since the legal fees they had had to pay had been unexpectedly high, they had jumped at the chance to earn some extra money before returning to the United States. Now, hopefully, they would have a chance to return to New York and relax for a while before their next assignment. They had just finished dinner and were relaxing in front of the suite's gas fireplace when there was a knock at the door. Alexei got up and opened the door. To his surprise, a middle-aged man with the traditional black bag of a physician stood before him. “Why, Dr. Ivanov! What a surprise! Please come in!” Alexei said, warmly shaking the doctor's hand as he entered. Natasha came over and just as warmly embraced the physician, then took his hat, coat and bag. “Thank you, Alexei. It's so wretchedly cold out there, even for January!” the doctor commented, as the twins led him into the parlor. “Can we get you some coffee or tea?” Natasha inquired. “No, thank you,” the medico replied. “I can't stay all that long, and I know that the two of you will be returning to New York City tomorrow. Before you do so, however, there are some test results I need to let the two of you know about.” The Romanov twins' faces showed quick concern. Ivan Ivanov had been their family's physician for over 20 years. Indeed, it had been Dr. Ivanov who had presided over the twins' birth some 16 years earlier. They knew, therefore, that he did not make such a statement lightly. “Is there something wrong with either of us?” Alexei asked. “Not wrong, exactly,” the doctor responded, “but we have detected a genetic anomaly that I feel you should be made aware of . . .” January 2015: It was a bitterly cold morning, and the snow was falling heavily as 18-year-old Jan Benson made his way through the streets of Manhattan. Although he was wearing a hoodie, gloves, cargo jeans, and high-topped skater shoes, they simply were not sufficient to ward off the fiercely chilling winter winds which seemed to be assaulting him from every direction. The big duffel bag he was carrying served only to burden him still further as he struggled toward the brownstone mansion in the Turtle Bay area that was his intended destination. His father had disowned him and thrown him out in the streets im-mediately after Jan's high school diploma had arrived in the mail, something he had long threatened to do. With his mother having passed away from ovarian cancer some six months earlier, Jan, for his part, was actually glad to be getting out on his own, and to part ways with his abusive sire. He was now en route to the mansion where his former girlfriend and her twin brother, his two best buds, now resided. A particularly vicious blast of frigid air, almost knocking Jan off his feet, prompted him to seek a few moments' respite in the outer vestibule of an office building. Setting down the bag which contained all of his worldly goods, Jan breathed heavily for a few moments, waiting for his meager strength to re-turn. He dug into the kangaroo pocket at the front of his hoodie and pulled out his last candy bar. He looked at it for a long moment, pondering whether he should go ahead and eat it, or wait until he got a little closer to his destination. He had no money with which to obtain any other food, and the homeless shelters were all full to overflowing. Consequently, this was no small decision. Checking the building's name and address, Jan realized that, in fact, he was only a few blocks from the house he was looking for. Might as well go ahead and eat it now, he decided, and he tore open the wrapper and consumed its contents. Carefully disposing of the wrapper in a nearby trash can, the boy retied his hood, picked up his duffel bag, and resumed his journey. As he neared the big brownstone, Jan saw a limousine parked out in front. His heart leaped with hope as he saw two people getting out of the limo and heading for the front door as the limo pulled away. He attempted to increase his pace, but, as if in mockery of his efforts, a sudden gale-force wind gust blew snow directly into his blue eyes, all but blinding him. Then, slipping on an unseen patch of ice, with a cry of fright and despair, Jan fell forward on his face. That cry, however, carried by the cold winter air, and reflected by the low-hanging clouds, caught the attention of the Romanov twins, who had only just arrived home after a long series of modeling assign-ments. They rushed forward and caught Jan just before he would otherwise have cracked his skull on the sidewalk. The twins gasped in astonishment as they recognized their old friend and schoolmate. “Get the door open, Natasha, quick!” her brother snapped commandingly. Natasha instantly carried out her twin brother's instructions as her brother effortlessly picked up Jan and his duffel bag and carried them into the house. They were met by their butler, Albert, who promptly took the duffel bag from Alexei as he tenderly laid Jan on a huge leather sofa in front of a blazing fire. He then carefully removed his friend's outer clo-thing and checked him over for injuries. Finding none, he then laid a rich satin quilt over his old com-rade, as Natasha brought a large mug of hot chicken broth in from the kitchen and laid it on the coffee table. “I don't think he's hurt as such,” Alexei commented quietly, “just exhausted. Have Albert pre-pare a bedroom for Jan. I'll keep watch on him in the meantime.” Natasha nodded and headed for the kitchen to relay her brother's instructions to the household staff. As it turned out, it was several hours before Jan regained consciousness. Although he had not in fact been injured, exhaustion and lack of food had caused him to faint just at the moment Alexei and Natasha had caught him. The large mug of chicken broth, therefore, had been placed in the refrigerator to await consumption. As Jan groaned and opened his eyes, Natasha rose and went back to the kitchen to reheat the broth in the microwave oven. It took several moments for Jan to fully regain his senses. He quickly realized that he was indoors, but whose house was it? He looked up, and his lower jaw fell open as he beheld a still-teenaged muscle super-giant, with long, thick, silky hair that was the color of the richest chocolate imaginable. It was by the sight of the young mega-stud's silvery-blue eyes, though, that Jan realized who he was. "Alexei?" he asked, in a voice that trembled with uncertainty. "Alexei, is that you?" "Da, old friend," the young giant replied, in a deep, rich voice that was filled with immense power, yet overflowed with warmth, love, and kindness. Overjoyed, Jan staggered to his feet, then threw his slender arms around his friend as best he could. Alexei instantly wrapped his gargantuan arms around his old schoolmate, kissing him on the cheek as he did so. Jan promptly buried his face in Alexei's velvet-clad shoulder and unashamedly wept. "Oh, thank God," he sobbed, "oh, thank God!" "Amen!" the young Russian replied, tears of joy trickling down his own cheeks as well. Just then, Natasha came back into the room from the kitchen, bringing the mug of broth with her. She carefully laid the mug back down on the coffee table, and then she too threw her gigantic arms around Jan, who had been her boyfriend all through high school. It had been two full years since they had seen each other. Now, as her twin brother released his hold on Jan, she let him know beyond any question how much she had missed him, with the deepest, richest, most powerful kiss Jan had ever experienced. For his part, Jan kissed Natasha back with all the power his slender body could summon up, their two mouths opening, their tongues caressing each other as though they would never stop. When at last the two young lovers were able to to compose themselves, Jan took a long look at his two best buds. Although they had both been in the same class year as Jan, both Natasha and Alexei had graduated some two years before, well ahead of their class, in order to pursue their modeling careers on a full-time basis. Since then, they had both experienced a phenomenal growth spurt, and were now, at the age of 18, over seven feet tall apiece. In addition, as mentioned earlier, their physiques had also had a major growth spurt, to the point that both of them could have won the highest-level physique competitions on the planet. Not wanting to get involved in the drugs and politics of professional bodybuilding, however, they had both opted to pass by such a pursuit, choosing instead to concentrate on physique and fashion modeling. With the aid of their parents, the two youths had succeeded in negotiating contracts that had proven incredibly lucrative. Their fortunes had increased still more through a series of both domestic and foreign investments. As a result, both Alexei and Natasha were now on the verge of becoming after-tax multi-billionaires. The incredibly lavish outfits they were both sporting were evidence of their fabulous net worths. “WHOAH!” Jan whispered in awe, as he finally took in the enormity of the changes, both physical and monetary, that his two best buds had undergone over the past two years. “You like what you're seeing, old friend?” Alexei smirked, as he and his sister both swaggered and strutted in front of him. “I—I love what I'm seeing!” Jan whispered in reply, hardly daring to believe what his eyes were telling him. “But—but then, I always have, when it comes to you two, ever since the day I first set eyes on both of you!” That statement got him what could only be called a “super-kiss” from Natasha, which Jan re-turned with everything he could summon up. For his part, Alexei threw back his gorgeous head and let out a rich, rapid, throaty laugh, as Natasha and Jan wrapped their arms around each other, their kiss be-coming ever more passionate. “I knew this would happen—I just knew it!” Alexei exulted, as again he threw back his head and laughed. From the day they had first met, Jan and Natasha had been utterly, totally smitten with each other, becoming the hottest item in their high school from the very start of their first school year together. Alexei and his parents had totally approved of their relationship. In fact, they had given their fullest blessings when Jan and Natasha had asked their permission to get mar-ried. Jan's father, however, had viciously condemned and forbidden anything of the sort, even though they two of them had already agreed to wait until they had both graduated to officially tie the knot. Now that Jan's father had officially disowned and rejected him, however, all three of them knew that there was no longer any obstacle whatever to Jan and Natasha proceeding with their wedding plans. When at last Jan and Natasha released each other, Alexei bade them both sit down on the couch. As Jan finally began drinking the now-tepid chicken broth that had been prepared for him. “I take it that you want to go ahead and get married?” Alexei inquired, a wicked smile on his lips. “You better believe it, bro'!” Jan exulted in reply, “That is, if Natasha is still willing.” “And are you still willing?” Alexei asked his twin sister, knowing full well what her answer was going to be. “Da, comrade,” the young “femuscle” giantess replied, using her native Russian accent in the most seductive manner she possibly could. This time, it was Jan who gave Natasha a “super-kiss,” as once again Alexei threw back his head in an exultant, throaty laugh. For a moment, it looked as though the two young lovers were actually about to consummate their romance right their in front of Alexei. To his relief, however, the prospective bride and groom finally released each other. They then began to discuss the actual logistics of making arrangements for their wedding, which they all wanted to take place as soon as possible. As might be expected, a Las Vegas wedding was one of the first ideas that came to their minds. The current state of the weather, however, forced them to reconsider any such idea, at least for the time being. Then, at Jan's suggestion, Alexei telephoned his family's lawyer for advice. Much to their surprise, they learned that a local judge could waive the normal waiting period for a marriage license in New York State. Since they all were acquainted with several judges, they all realized that this would not be a problem. Again, however, the current state of the weather forced the young couple to postpone any trip to a judge's chambers for the purpose of matrimony, at least until the following day. The lawyer, however, promised to contact the judges in question by telephone, in an attempt to see when one might be available for such a purpose over the next few days. Satisfied that they had done all they could for the moment, the three teens relaxed on the couch to-gether, catching up with recent events in each other's lives as they gazed into the crackling fire in the big fireplace before them. Jan, for his part, was horrified to learn that Alexei's and Natasha's parents had been killed in a plane crash while on a visit to Russia just under a year before. Natasha and Alexei were both deeply saddened to learn of the death of Jan's mother from ovarian cancer some six months earlier. When Jan went on to explain about his father disowning him immediately after receiving his high school diploma, the Romanov twins' faces both turned brick red—almost purple, in fact—with fury. Seeing this, Jan hastened to point out that, if nothing else, his father's rejection, plus his gradua-tion, now left him free to marry Natasha without fear of interference. Alexei nodded, as his face slowly resumed its natural color. Switching to a different topic, Alexei asked, “You're probably wondering how we got so big over the past couple of years, right?” “The thought did cross my mind,” Jan replied, eying the massive physiques of his two best buds. Alexei nodded, and paused for a moment, clearly gathering his thoughts. Then he began, “You remember that we were born near Chernobyl, right?” Jan nodded, then frowned as an idea came to his mind. “You're not saying you're radioactive or something, are you?” The two young giants snorted with amusement. “No, but our parents did receive some residual radiation from the reactor meltdown, and apparently it had some sort of genetic effect on us. You know what myostatin is, right?” In response, Jan bared his teeth in a grimace. “Only too well do I know!” he shot back. He explained that, some months earlier, his family doctor had referred him to a specialist in adolescent medicine, who, in turn had ordered a battery of genetic tests to be run on him. Those tests had disclosed that the level of myostatin in Jan's DNA was unusually high—so high, in fact, that the doctor had regretfully informed Jan that it would be impossible for him to “muscle up” to any significant degree, even with the strongest steroids. That revelation, in fact, had been the proverbial “last straw” as far as his father was concerned, and had prompted him to reject and disown Jan as soon as he graduated. “Well, from what our former physician in Moscow told us,” Alexei went on, “our myostatin level is extremely low—so low, in fact--” “That your muscles can't keep from growing!” Jan put in, his eyes flashing with excitement. “Exactly!” Natasha added, pulling her boyfriend up to her and snuggling him against her huge breasts. “The medical term for our condition is 'myostatin-based muscular hypertrophy'. In our case, it's a mutation, caused by the radiation our parents were exposed to as a result of the Chernobyl reactor explosion. Like most mutations, it's also hereditary.” Jan gulped at this revelation. “You—you mean that our kids will grow into super muscle freaks?” he asked. The Romanov twins nodded. “That's not necessarily a bad thing, though, old friend,” Alexei pointed out, baring his sparkling white teeth in a wicked grin. “I don't think that's bad at all!” Jan exclaimed, sharing a deep, rich kiss with the girl he adored. As he released her, Jan then inquired, “So, in essence, you don't even have to work out to get huge—am I right?” “Exactly!” Alexei said, nodding. “When we do work out, however, we get unbelievably pumped, and it seems to stimulate our muscle growth that much more—not only bigger, but faster as well!” “WHOAH!!” Jan responded in a hoarse whisper, as he contemplated the implications of what his two best buds had just told him. “And there's one other thing about our condition, Jan,” Alexei went on, as Jan climbed into Natasha's incredibly muscular, yet curvaceous and voluptuous, lap. “What's that?” Jan asked, as Natasha wrapped her humongous arms around him, giving him a squeeze which, while powerful and arousing, was still not enough to hurt or injure him. Jan wrapped his own arms around Natasha and squeezed her back as best he could. She then whispered into his ear, “It can also be sexually transmitted, my darling!” Jan stiffened as though he'd been stung by a wasp. Swallowing hard, he whispered, “You mean that, once we get married, and begin having sex, I'll wind up getting as big as you and Alexei?” “YES!!” Natasha whispered back, following up with a rich, throaty, ribald laugh. Jan promptly responded by lunging for the woman he loved and giving her a “deep-throat” French kiss such as he had never dared to give her before. As might be expected, Natasha instantly responded in kind, causing Alexei to throw back his massive head and laugh, even as he gently separated his best friend and his sister. Even as he did so, however, Jan felt an unusual warm, tingling sensation spreading throughout his entire body. Had the genetic alteration already begun? He wondered. He decided not to press the issue for the time being, opting instead to get settled in the bedroom he would soon begin sharing with Natasha. It was another two days before the weather moderated enough to permit Jan and Natasha to obtain their marriage license. During this time, Alexei explained the details of the modeling contract their late parents had negotiated for himself and Natasha. Jan was shocked when he learned that they had insisted that part of the revenues which their two children received be set aside specifically for his benefit, and that, if he chose to sign up with their modeling agency, he was to receive the same preferred status that Alexei and Natasha both enjoyed. (Their agent had already indicated his interest in signing Jan once he graduated from high school, a requirement he had now fulfilled.) A lump formed in Jan's throat, and tears welled up in his eyes, as he contemplated the near-unspeakable love and generosity the Romanovs had bestowed upon him. He then buried his face in his future bro-ther-in-law's massive shoulder and unashamedly wept. Natasha came up behind him and joined Alexei as he wrapped his hugely-muscled arms around Jan. They cuddled and snuggled and nuzzled Jan until he was on the verge of an orgasm. Four days after obtaining their marriage license, Jan and Natasha were finally married. (Much to Jan's surprise, his bride-elect and brother-in-law-elect were not members of the Russian Orthodox Church, but rather of a small, independent Sabbath-keeping congregation, whose pastor Jan had been acquainted with for many years, and who actually performed the ceremony.) Because the weather was still quite wintry, the young couple chose not to take an immediate honeymoon,. Instead, they returned to the big brownstone mansion which was now home to all three of them. Jan and his bride were both now trembling in every limb with anticipation as they entered their bridal chamber, which Alexei and Anthony had lavishly decorated to resemble that of a Russian Czar. As they began to undress each other, Jan once again felt the warm tingling sensation he had experi-enced before when he and Natasha had kissed. Now, however, it was much stronger, and it continued to gain in strength as the young newlyweds began the process of consummating their marriage. As their bodies joined and became one flesh, the tingling subsided, only to be replaced by a feeling of raw, growing power as Jan erupted inside Natasha like an exploding volcano. Then, suddenly, she grabbed the hair at the back of Jan's head and all but forced him to position his lips over her right nipple. “DRINK!” she commanded. Jan complied, but not until after he had given her a series of seven French kisses all the way up her incredible cleavage, each of which prompted a scream of ecstatic delight. Then, at last, he began to nurse her. The first swallow of Natasha's milk was instantly followed by a mighty throb of power in his genitals, causing them to grow and expand and balloon outward. At the same time, he felt his sexual power and potency and virility begin to skyrocket upward, reaching levels he had never even dreamed of. Then, as if somehow freed from their previous genetic restraints, the rest of his muscles began to grow—slowly at first, and then with ever-increasing speed and intensity. By the time the growth finally tapered off, Jan was every bit as big and brawny as Alexei and Natasha were, although still not as tall. As he drank the last drops of milk from Natasha's left breast, Jan felt as though he were going to explode like a nuclear warhead. He flexed and pumped and flexed and pumped and flexed and pumped, growing even bigger—stronger—prettier—cuter—sexier—until at last Natasha pulled him back down on top of her. She shoved her hips upward to rejoin her body to his, then wrapped her legs around Jan's humongously muscular hips and administered the deepest, richest, most erotically powerful French kiss she could muster to her new husband. Jan promptly wrapped his own gigantic arms and legs around his bride, returning her embrace with more sheer power than he had ever dared to imagine. Moments later, they experienced another orgasm, only this time with what felt like the power of an exploding planet. Jan's sexual ecstasy only increased as Natasha responded to his erotic ministrations with tidal wave after tidal wave of of sweet, rushing warmth. They sank into a warm, deep sleep, their now-even-mightier limbs still wrapped around each other, their fingers twirling each other's incredibly long, rich, silky tresses. It was late the next morning when the young couple finally rose from their marriage bed. They were astonished to realize that they were now both a whopping 7'7” in height. Their chests were so massive-ly developed that their pecs were bigger than even the most gigantic watermelons, and came all the way up to their chins. Their shoulders were so huge that their trapezius muscles had grown up over their ears, all but swallowing up their marble-column-sized necks. Even their facial muscles had grown to an astounding size, yet in such a way that their faces looked to be at least ten times more gorgeous than they had ever been before. Their upper arms were bigger than even the largest medicine balls, while their forearms were at least the size of country hams. Below their chests (which looked like each side was as big as a 55-gallon drum), their abdominal muscles and intercostals were so powerfully developed that they each actually possessed a 16-pack, while their glutes had swollen into the biggest, tightest, sexiest “bubble butt” either one of them had ever beheld. In Jan's case, this was somewhat counter-balanced by testicles which were the size of giant Tennessee melons, while his “love muscle,” as Natasha already knew, had expanded to the girth of a Lebanon bologna. Their quads were the size of giant pumpkins—the 1,000 pound variety, no less!--while their calves were at least the size of medicine balls. As Jan and his new bride shook their heads in wonder, they both suddenly realized that their hair was now long enough to sit on, and was richer, thicker, shinier, and silkier than they had ever dreamed it could be. (Jan's hair was an incredible 'honey-gold' blond, while Natasha's, like that of her twin brother, was the color of the darkest, richest chocolate imaginable.) All in all, it was as if the young couple had morphed into the ultimate modern-day version of the Biblical Samson and Delilah. They both realized that, with the right amount and style of makeup, they would become unbearably gorgeous, and even more so when they were properly dressed. After exchanging a long, deep kiss, the young couple headed for the bathroom, which Natasha's parents had wisely had remodelled to allow for the kind of growth they had experienced during the night. They washed each other off in a huge shower stall—with multi-level shower heads, no less!-- and then dried each other off with enormous bath sheets. It took some little time to properly dry and style their massive tresses, but the effort proved more than worthwhile, as the result for each of them was a head of the longest, most gorgeous locks either one of them had ever seen—the kind that shampoo and hair color companies would pay a fortune to feature in their advertising! They then applied makeup and lipstick to their already phenomenal faces, raising them to an unbelievable degree of sex appeal. Since their legs were now far too large to permit normal walking, the young couple unavoidably swaggered and strutted to a pair of oversized walk-in closets. Both of which were full almost to the bursting point with shirts, pants, coats, jackets, boots, belts, and other accessories, all of which would have been worthy of any Russian Czar. Because the weather was still bitterly cold, the young couple dressed themselves in huge, rich silk velvet poet shirts in a deep, royal purple, with bigger sleeves and more rows and layers of ruffles than Jan had ever dreamed of. The ruffles, in turn, were trimmed with alternating gold and silver lace, thereby imparting an unspeakable look of wealth and luxury. To this, Jan and Natasha both added shiny black leather pants, cinched at the waistline with 3-inch-wide studded belts and huge round buckles, and fur-topped platform boots in white patent leather. Wide sashes in gold satin, plus ankle-length, baroque-style “galleon” coats in a lighter shade of purple velvet, completed their extravagant outfits. As the young couple came out of their bridal chamber, they were ecstatic to find that Alexei had grown along with them, and was now every bit as tall and as super-massive as they were. He had even attired himself in an outfit identical to theirs. The three young super-giants laughed out loud as they beheld each other. Then, after an enormous breakfast, the young mega-trio donned rich, fur-trimmed, gauntletted gloves and Russian-style hats, and went off in the limo to complete the arrangements for Jan to join Alexei and Natasha in a full-time modeling career. As they did so, they all silently gave thanks that the disaster in Chernobyl some 30 years before had at least produced one such incredibly beneficial side effect, and prayed for wisdom and guidance as they made use of it in the years to come.

Photo Booth Pecos Billy.doc PHOTO BOOTH: (PECOS) BILLY BY GLAMROCKCOWBOY BASED ON A STORY CONCEPT BY AARDVARK2 (Author's note: I am grateful to Aardvark2 for giving me permission to use his “photo booth” stories as a framework for my own writing. He specifically asked me to include elements, not only of muscle growth, but of overall transformation in appearance as well. Since I am a long-time fan of the “glam rock” and “glam metal” bands of the 1980's and early 1990's, when I proposed writing stories along those lines within the “photo booth” framework, he enthusiastically agreed. This particular story was inspired by this year's Tournament of Roses Parade. I was deeply disappointed when the major networks deliberately chose not to include ANY of the nearly 2 dozen equestrian units that participated in the Parade in their television coverage, despite the fact that horsemanship, in all its various forms (including rodeo, thank you very much!) is as much a sport as the much-vaunted football game known as the Rose Bowl! Thankfully, the RFD-TV cable network DOES include the equestrian units in its coverage! I hope you enjoy this re-posting!) It was a cold, raw, dismal afternoon in early January as a slender youth got off the bus and hurried through the mall's main entrance. 18-year-old Billy Johannson shivered slightly as he pulled down the hood of his nondescript gray sweatshirt, exposing a lion's mane of rich, golden hair that stretched down to the bottom of his shoulder blades. The face that was paired with those golden tresses, however, while fairly good-looking, was weary and haggard from grief and suffering. Billy's parents had recently been killed when a drunk driver had plowed head-on into their car at over 90 miles an hour. Their insurance had proved to be just barely sufficient to pay off the mortgage on their home. The drunk driver's family had chosen to contest their insurance company's proposed settlement in court. Billy's lawyer had glumly informed him that the trial could be months away due to the current backlog in the court system. As if that had not been bad enough, the IRS had slapped a lien on the house, claiming that they should have been paid off first, despite the fact that Billy had had no say in the matter. Although Billy had already graduated from high school, he had been unable to find a job locally, and, owing to bureaucratic snafus, his matriculation at the State University had been delayed until the following year. Thankfully, his financial aid, consisting entirely of grants and scholarships, was still secure. Even so, Billy realized that, unless a job came along fairly soon, he could wind up homeless in spite of everything. He wandered aimlessly from one end of the mall to the other, looking for any signs that might indicate a job opening of some kind. There were none, however, largely due to the recent conclusion of the holiday shopping season. While there was in fact a fair amount of post-holiday traffic in the various shops and stores, Billy realized that it was minuscule compared to the recent pre-holiday frenzy. Even the fast-food restaurants at the mall had regretfully told Billy that they would not be doing any hiring for the time being. As he passed the large Western clothing store that was his personal favorite among all the shops in the mall, Billy could not help wincing. He had always wanted to be a cowboy—or at least to dress the part—but his parents, who were city folks through and through, had arrogantly forbidden anything of the sort. He paused for a moment and gazed wistfully at some of the fancier items in the window, all now on sale after the holidays. He remembered that the network that had broadcast the recent Tournament of Roses Parade had arrogantly refused to include any of the numerous equestrian squads and units from the Parade in its television coverage, despite the numerous complaints and protests from viewers and cable network subscribers. Thankfully, a competing network was aware of the situation, and had made a special point of doing a special about the Parade, and particularly the equestrian units, many of whose trappings included elaborate, richly-decorated western parade saddles, bridles, and other riding accessories and clothing. Billy, a long-time fan of western parade gear, had fairly drooled over the outfits featured during the program, and so had the friends and schoolmates who had watched the special with Billy at his home after his parents' funeral. Reluctantly, with a sigh of despair, Billy turned away from the Western store's window display, and headed back toward the food court. Since school had just let out for the day, he was not surprised when he was accosted by several of his friends. Aware of Billy's tight finances, they insisted on treating him to a good, solid meal. Billy gratefully accepted their generosity, and sat down to chat with his friends, several of whom were on his own high school's rodeo team. The group chatted amiably about the re-cent Rose Parade and the team's chances of going to the National High School Finals Rodeo in Wyoming at the end of the school year. As the group finished their meal and prepared to break up, each of them in turn gave Billy a warm hug, promising to be on the lookout for any job possibilities for him. Billy thanked them warmly, and then headed back out to the mall's main concourse to make one more sweep for any possible job openings before returning home. In the course of making his way back toward the main entrance, Billy, on impulse, stopped in the mall's major bookstore. As he perused the magazine section, he found several cowboy-oriented magazines. He sat down in an armchair near the racks and perused the magazines rapidly. One of them contained a se-ries of articles about the extravagant parade saddles and vintage clothing styles of the 1930's, 40's and 50's, and even into the early 1960's. Billy shook his head in wonder at the gorgeous black-and-white and full-color photographs and illustrations displaying the works of such artists and artisans as Ted Flowers and, especially, Edward H. Bohlin. Returning the magazines to the rack, Billy began making his way back toward the store's mall entrance. Again, however, his attention was diverted, this time by a book. The volume, entitled, “American Hair Metal,” explored the “glam rock” and, especially, the “glam metal” bands of the 1980's and early 1990's. Billy was intrigued to notice that many of these bands included articles of Western apparel in their wardrobes, both on and off stage, especially cowboy boots, many of which were custom-made in some of the most extravagant styles he had ever seen. As he replaced the volume in the sales rack, Billy next saw a large paperback that almost made his heart stop. It was one of several works by the late Tyler Beard on the subject of western boots and western apparel. Billy's eyes grew wide, and his mouth fell open in awe, as he beheld the numerous and lavish styles of cowboy footwear within its pages. Then, with a groan of despair, he put down the volume and made his way back out into the mall's main concourse. He was still shaking his head sadly as he passed the mall arcade, which was strategically located next to the mall's main entrance. Unlike many of his peers, Billy was not normally a game enthusiast. For this reason, he might have passed the arcade by without a second glance—except for the sight of an exceptionally large photo booth just inside the entrance. Although Billy had seen such devices before, he had never used one, nor had he ever seen one this big. Curious, he slowly meandered toward it. As he did so, he could not help thinking to himself that this particular photo booth was easily large enough to hold any of a number of musclemen he had seen depicted on the Deviant Art website. One such image in particular came to his mind—namely, a morphed image entitled, “Beach Muscle Dream—N Tribute—Biggest,” by the artist known simply as “noname.” He had been especially attracted by this particular morph from the moment he had first set eyes on it, at least partially because the subject looked as though he were about Billy's own age. As he pondered whether or not he should actually use the machine, another thought came to his mind: What if, he thought to himself, such a teenaged behemoth were also a cowboy—perhaps even a glam-rocking cowboy, with hair and gonads to match the rest of his enormous physique? The very thought of such a thing was so incongruous that it made him chuckle. As he sat down inside the photo booth, and inserted a quarter, for a moment he actually imagined what he would look like if such a transformation ever took place. He actually laughed out loud as he pus his hand on the scanner, with the image of him-self as a super-muscular, glam-rocking teen cowboy still in his mind. Then the flashes began. The first flash not only blinded him for a moment, but almost caused Billy to fall off the machine's stool. “What the--” he began to cry out, then halted in his tracks. His voice had suddenly dropped more than an octave in pitch. Furthermore, as he settled back on the stool, there was enough of a reflection in the machine's camera mechanism to show that Billy was now wearing the biggest, most extravagant cowboy hat he had ever laid eyes on. Furthermore, a rich black satin neckerchief, with long, silken fringe was tied around his throat—a throat that was now the size of a marble column! As he prepared for the next flash, Billy noticed that his face was now considerably handsomer, to the point where he would have every reason to be called a glam-rock “pretty boy,” much like Nick Rhodes of Duran Duran, Adam Lambert, or even a Japanese rock star such as Kamijo of the recently-disbanded “Versailles Philharmonic Quintet.” He was even wearing makeup, in a smoky, sultry color scheme that even included touches of silver and turquoise! A moment later, the second flash erupted. Again, Billy almost fell off the seat. This time, however, he was better prepared for it, and he promptly resettled himself. As he did so, he saw that this time his arms, chest, and shoulders had swollen to herculean proportions, and were now sheathed in a huge, white satin, vintage-style Western shirt. The shirt was heavily embroidered in various western motifs, and was further embellished with rhinestones, sequins, and long, beaded fringe, all of which were in a rainbow of colors. Suddenly, as he prepared for the next flash, Billy realized what was happening to him. Somehow, the device's scanner had picked up on his thoughts—on the images he had conjured up in his mind—and was somehow transforming him to conform to those images. He also remembered reading that, traditionally, a real cowboy dressed himself from the top down when getting up in the morning, even to the point of putting his hat on first! That being the case, Billy surmised, he could next expect to be put into a pair of either jeans or Western slacks (sometimes referred to as “ranch pants”), to say nothing of the enlargement of his legs and gonads. Seconds later, the third flash exploded in Billy's face. This time, he just barely managed to keep his seat. As his eyes recovered, Billy saw that his expectations had been fully realized. His abs, glutes, intercostals, and back muscles were all swelling with incredible power—power such as Billy had never dreamed of. Meanwhile, Billy's shoulders were broadening with lightning speed, until finally they felt as wide as a barn door, and looked that wide as well. Meanwhile, his pectorals were swelling to the size of giant watermelons—so big, in fact, that he could no longer see over them! As if that weren't enough, his traps were now so high and thick that they almost swallowed up his neck altogether! Suddenly, there was a fourth flash, and Billy quickly became aware of a growing pressure in his groin. As he looked at the scanner's mirror in awe, Billy saw his sex organs swelling to an incredible size, while his thighs ballooned outward, eventually reaching the size of giant pumpkins. His calves were inflating, too, finally achieving the size of soccer balls, and then growing even larger, until at last they were as big as medicine balls. Then, as if that weren't enough, Billy saw his glutes swell and firm up into the biggest, tightest, sexiest looking “bubble butt” he had ever dreamed of! A moment later, a pair of rich black leather jeans, lined in equally rich black satin, appeared around his lower extremities, with so-called “keystone” belt loops, covered with silver studs, and a waistband that held a 3-inch wide, heavily-studded, black patent leather belt, cinched in front by what simply had to be the biggest, most lavishly-jeweled oval belt buckle he had ever laid his eyes on, fashioned of gold, silver, and even platinum! It was so huge, in fact, that it all but covered his incredibly muscular abdomen! Another moment, and a magnificent pair of knee-high cowboy boots appeared on his lower legs, in rich black patent leather, covered with gold and silver studs, with super-high, undershot riding heels, needle-point toes, and even platform soles! Then a few seconds later, multiple loops of alternating gold, silver, and platinum chains appeared, hanging from his boot tops, and extending all the way to the point where the two halves of each boot were joined together. As Billy marveled at his increasingly decadent appearance, he remembered that many glam rock and glam metal bands had worn such lavishly-decorated boots and chains, both on and off stage. Only a moment later, an incredible pair of spurs made their appearance. The straps that held them in place were covered with silver and turquoise studs, while the spurs themselves were heavily inlaid in gold and silver. The spinners on the spurs, better known as rowels, were huge, in the old Mexican style, and had two jingle bobs on each side of each spur. To complete the look of supreme cowboy “bling-bling,” each spur had no less than four loops of gold and silver chains underneath the arch of each boot! By now, Billy was shaking his head in wonder at this awesome transformation—but he quickly learned that the machine wasn't done with him yet, for a moment later, there was a fifth flash. As the young glam metal cowboy shook his head to clear his eyes, he gasped in awe as he now beheld a pair of west-ern parade-style “chaparejos” (Spanish for “leggings” or “leg armor”), in the so-called “batwing” style, encircling his enormously-muscled legs. Billy had seen pictures of such “chaps” before, but these were far and away the most lavishly-adorned parade-style leggings he had ever beheld. Not only were the batwings themselves at least twice the size of any others he had ever seen, but virtually every square inch of them was embellished with jeweled studs, conchos, and even chains, in gold, silver, and even platinum! Then, as if to complete the outfit, a few moments later, there was a sixth and final flash. As Billy had halfway expected, this time, a waist-length, fringed leather coat, along with a pair of long, gauntletted gloves appeared. Both items complemented the chaps and spurs to utter perfection, including long, silver-studded fringe, and even multiple loops of alternating gold, silver, and platinum chains draping down from his incredibly broad, gigantically muscular shoulders, extending halfway down his freakishly huge arms! Billy slowly got to his feet, as the strip of pictures came out of the delivery slot. Almost reverently, the young giant, now a full foot taller than he had been before—another 6 inches taller than that, counting the height added by his new boots—picked up the strip of pictures and slid them into his inside coat pocket. Taking a final look at himself in the machine's scanner mirror, Billy swallowed hard as he realized that he was now, in fact, every bit as big as the “Beach Muscle Dream” picture he had imagined. He carefully made his way out of the machine. For whatever reason, Billy felt compelled to turn back toward the photo booth for a moment and whisper simply, “Thank you!” A moment later, he seemed to hear the machine reply, “You're welcome!”--not audibly, but telepathically somehow. As he began strutting and swaggering toward the mall's main entrance—his muscles were far too large now to allow him to walk normally any more—Billy began to ponder how he could possibly make his way home in his incredibly outlandish new outfit without either causing a riot or being robbed. Neither scenario particularly appealed to Billy, although he sensed that his new size and strength would deter any possible robbers from attacking him. Even so, he could not help enjoying his new-found power, to say nothing of the “jingle-jangle-jingle” from his spurs and chains as he headed toward the automatic sliding doors, which opened well in advance of his approach. He was about to head for the bus stop just a few yards away from the entrance when he heard his name being called. Turning on his new high heels, Billy was delighted when he spotted two of his friends from the high school rodeo team. They were brother and sister—fraternal twins, in fact—and were standing next to the most awesome “mega-stretch” limousine Billy had ever laid eyes on. “Need a ride home, cowboy?” Don Jamison asked, a wicked grin on his incredibly handsome face. “Boy, do I ever!” Billy replied, as he hugged and kissed Don and his sister, Jenny. As he joined his two friends in the super-luxury vehicle, Billy suddenly realized that his financial problems were over, although he had no idea how or why. In fact, he somehow sensed that both he and his two friends were now after-tax multi-multi-millionaires. As the limo pulled away from the mall's main entrance, Jenny explained that the rodeo team was forming a separate equestrian parade unit, and invited Billy to join them. “We have a Palomino super-stallion that should be just perfect for you to ride,” she said with a knowing, wicked grin on her gorgeous face. Suddenly Billy realized that he had a parade saddle and bridle outfit back at his house that would match what he was wearing to utter perfection. Instead of his old house, Billy now had a luxury ranch of his own located next door to that of his two friends. As Billy shook his head, wondering how all of this could have taken place, his two fellow buckaroos grinned knowingly. “You just came out of that photo booth, right?” Don inquired. Billy did a double-take as he realized what his best friend was saying. “You guys, too?” he whispered. Don nodded. “We don't know how, and we don't know why that machine does what it does, but we're sure not gonna argue with the results!” “You know something? Neither am I!” Billy replied, as his two comrades joined him in a deep, rich, throaty laugh. He pulled his two best buds close and hugged them for a long moment, then pulled the girl of his dreams into his lap and gave her a deep, rich kiss as the limo pulled out into the early evening traffic.

"Je vous laisse, mon ami!" "WHAT!, after everything we have we went through together Pierre? I don’t understand what you want me to do. I was going to propose to you at Christmas. You are going to just give up on us without a second thought? I don’t even care that you slept with Gustav, you mean so much to me." “Winston, I just can’t get past the fact that you look…..uhhhh so…..small. I want to be with a partner that can not only make me happy on the inside, but also looks great on the outside.” “I do workout Pierre, you know this. You used to complement me so much on my athletic physique. What happened?” “Gustav est passé mon ami. He fulfills my insatiable desire for muscle. If you were just……uhhhh…..how do you say……bigger, I would be much more satisfied.” Winston continues to look at Pierre dumbfounded and wonders why he would be thinking this way since they seemed to be so happy. Before he can get another word out though, Pierre waves goodbye to him and turns around to get into his car. The stunned thinner young man stands in silence as his eyes well up with tears. They stream down his face as he watches his former lover drive down the road and beyond the mountain outside the city in the distance. To take Pierre off his mind, he walks a few thousand feet down the sidewalk before he stumbles upon a park that is located just on the edge of the city. He enters the passageway and notices an impressively built water fountain about a quarter mile ahead from where he is standing and walks towards it. Halfway there, he can hear several clanging sounds as the sky rains with piles of shiny gold coins. When he leans down to examine some of them, several pelt him in the head and knock him down unconscious. He awakens several minutes later and realizes that the entire path to the water fountain is made of these coins. He hears a voice in the background and wonders if it is his imagination. He speaks loudly. “Hello? Who are you?” There is no answer. He takes a few more steps and notices that some of the coins are loose on the ground and can be picked up. After examining a handful of them, one of them glows a bright green color which immediately catches his eye. He grins as he drops the rest of them and continues to stare at it. The voice returns again which makes him snap out of his trance. “What the? WHO ARE YOU!?” The voice laughs before saying, “Lad, I think you know what you are supposed to do with that lucky coin, am I right?” He looks at it again and then walks the rest of the path to stand directly in front of the fountain. He closes his eyes before flipping it up into the air. As he does this, time slows to a crawl as he watches in amazement when the coin hits the water at half the speed. The splash is so intense that it forms a tidal wave and lands directly on top of him. He yells in fright as it drowns him before draining into the ground. As he comes to again, he looks up and sees a rainbow appear from just over the mountain as it ends directly in front of the fountain just a few feet away from him. A strange looking machine follows it down as it stops at the bottom. A small muscular man dressed in a green outfit with a black belt and a color coordinated hat jumps down and immediately walks over to punch him in the right leg. “OW! What the fuck man? Damn, you are a strong little man. And kind of…..” The small man stops him before he can get another thought out. “Don’t say it mate, I know what you are thinking. You think I am attractive because I have these muscles.” *he points to his biceps and flexes them as they stretch the fabric on his jacket* “Now, I want you to come with me back to my home world Winston so we can get this moving along.” Winston looks thoroughly confused and has no idea what he is talking about as he looks down at him. “Huh? What? I don’t know what you are talking about little man? What did I do?” The little man punches him in the crotch and shakes his head in disbelief as he stands there with his hands on his hips. “Lad, why do you have to be so naïve. You made a wish when you threw that coin into this here fountain behind me. I am here to help you fulfill that wish, but you have to come with me to complete a quest in order for it to come true.” Winston looks on in a stupor as the little man physically picks him and slams him onto the machine he rode on. He gets in on the other side of it as it begins to move. The shocked human has trouble getting any words out as he attempts to comprehend how a man that probably weighs about 50 pounds could carry a guy that is three times his body weight without any resistance whatsoever. “Shhh…..don’t even say anything mate. Let me introduce myself, I am Padraig, leader of the Emerald guild. In case you haven’t noticed, we be muscled LOL.” *he flexes again as the machine moves up the rainbow towards the mountain* “But seriously Winston, you said in your mind as you threw that coin that you wished to become the man that Pierre wanted you to be. This is your chance to show him that you indeed can and will.” Once they get to the other side of the rainbow and over the mountain, Padraig and Winston get off the machine and start walking towards the village located just to their right. The surprised human stops for a few seconds as the little man turns to look up at him. He puts his big right hand on his forehead and sighs before he speaks again. “Winston, I know that this is all a bit of a shock to you, but there is only a small amount of time to complete your quest. Before you begin however, I want you to meet your guide through your adventure.” As they walk through the village, another little muscular man approaches them and stops just far enough away to where he catches the eye of the much taller human. Paddy stops him in his tracks and stands next to Winston before he starts to smile knowing what he must be thinking. He then walks over to the other little man and puts his hand on his beefy shoulder. “Aye there Ioan, glad you could come and participate in the quest that has been selected for you. This here is Winston, he made a wish in the fountain on Earth and is now here to fulfill his destiny.” The remarkably good-looking small man looks up at him and makes a few gestures like he wants Winston to pick him up. When the surprised human attempts to do so, he figures out that the man is a lot heavier than he looks. After a few more failed attempts, Paddy intervenes and leads them both over to a table so they can talk briefly. “Ioan will be with you through this quest Winston. Actually, he will be a part of the quest as well. His fate will be in your hands as a result of a set of questions that will be asked as you make your way through the tundra that is just beyond the gates of this village.” Paddy points in the direction of the tundra and leans over the table to whisper something into Ioan’s ear. The little man looks a tad bit concerned as he turns to look up at Winston and then looks at Padraig again. The elder muscleman gives him a look that suggests that he must go through with whatever he told him or else there will be consequences. After about twenty seconds, Ioan gets up from the table and walks towards the gates before opening them and disappearing into the landscape. Winston is a bit confused as to what just occurred and wonders what this will entail. “I don’t understand what this man has to do with me, but for some reason I feel like I have some connection to him. Is this partly because of the quest that I have to complete with him?” Paddy smiles before he gets up from the table and motions for Winston to do the same. He then leads the human over to the gates and walks through them. They stop after a few hundred feet of entering the tundra before the little man stops. He turns to look up at Winston once more. “Okay lad, this is where I must leave you so you can fulfill your destiny. The tundra will be jarring at first, but once you reach the crossroads, you will know what to do next.” A large sack appears in front of Winston which surprises him. “Take that with you laddy, it has enough supplies in it to sustain you for however long you are here. I wish you luck and I will see you soon.” The little muscleman turns to walk back through the gates as they close behind him and he vanishes. After pausing for a few seconds after picking up the velvet bag, Winston immediately starts walking again across the barren wasteland. The cooler temperatures make him stop after trekking for a few minutes as he opens the bag up and pulls out a heavy coat from within. He briefly wonders how this could be inside of it but figures that it is some kind of magic and continues to walk ahead. For what seems like hours, Winston eventually reaches the area that Padraig spoke of. A huge cave appears from out of nowhere which briefly concerns him. He goes inside and manages to find enough kindling in his bag to make a fire. He then makes a bed out of some fabric and goes to sleep for the night as the sun disappears behind the mountain that is just above the village in the distance. When he awakens the next morning, he is greeted by the small man he saw leave from back in the village. He is not wearing a top as his hairy muscular chest is just inches away from Winston’s face. The muscular man’s deep masculine voice stuns the much taller human as he sits up. “Good morning sir, I wondered if you might find this place. I am supposed to ask you a question which has two possible answers. Whichever answer you choose will decide what happens next.” He helps Winston up from the ground so he can look up at him as he talks. The man’s nicely groomed reddish brown beard and green eyes are not what he was expecting to see when he woke up for the day, but is pleasantly surprised. They take a few steps outside the cave and turn back around to look at it. Ioan proceeds to ask Winston the question. “Which one of your parents do you miss the most Winston? This question must be answered truthfully or your quest will end here.” Winston is stunned by the question right off the bat and puts his arms above his head. He had no idea that this would even come up and immediately looks down at Ioan. “WHAT!? What kind of question is that? What does this have to do with my wish at the fountain? Did Padraig tell you to ask me this question?” Ioan puts his hand out as Winston takes his hands off his head to hold the little man’s. He looks up at the human and has a relatively neutral look on his face. “This is just part of the process Winston and I am sorry. I was summoned to be your guide and I have been put in charge of the questions that have to be asked. This actually does pertain to your wish indirectly and is meant to help you cope with what happened to you in the past.” After a moment of self-reflection, it dawns on Winston that he is going to be asked three questions that will pertain to his past, what is happening in the present, and what may or may not happen in the future to him. He grips Ioan’s hand as hard as the little man is now gripping his. “I…..I can’t go back Ioan. They both meant so much to me. I mean…..why?” Ioan walks forward, still holding Winston’s hand, and pulls him further into the cave with him. After taking about fifty steps down into the dark corridor, it changes into two emergency room doors. They stop just a few feet in front of them as Ioan looks up to talk to Winston again. “This is where you must answer the question Winston. Your parents are both here. Talk to them face-to-face one last time. This will help you move on since this has been lurking in your mind for a great deal of time. I will wait in the lobby for when you return so that we can move on to the next question. You will be fine mate, I promise.” Ioan lets go of Winston’s hand as they enter into the waiting area of the hospital. The little hairy muscleman stands there as numerous medical personnel move around him not noticing either one of them are even there. The scared taller young man tries not to lose his composure as he takes a deep breath and walks down the hospital corridor towards one of the recovery rooms on the right. He stops walking when he glances inside one of the rooms and sees both his father and mother lying in beds side by side hooked up to machines. He slowly enters the room and walks between them to turn back and forth to look at them with heavy eyes. He can’t get any words out as he gets on his knees beside his mother to hold her hand and lightly weep. She moves her hand as she turns to look at him. “Winston…..I am so glad that you made it here. Ronnie and I didn’t know if you would get here in time or not…..I can’t seem to remember much…..I just wanted to let you know how much I love you and that I will always be in your heart. I also wanted to tell you that I am fine with who you are so don’t worry about it anymore, okay?” Winston tries to keep from crying but can’t hold back the tears that are welling up. They stream down his face as his mother begins to struggle with her breathing. Before he can say anything to her, she loses consciousness and flat lines. His father Ronnie starts to grunt behind him as he tries to get up to see if his wife is okay or not. Multiple nurses come flooding into the room as they try to restrain him as others try to revive her. Winston’s dad is finally put in restraints as the incredibly muscular middle-aged man winces feeling his body hurting from the catastrophic injuries he sustained in the car accident. The extremely sad young man quickly moves over to the other side of his father’s bed where there is no medical personnel and grasps his dad’s bloodied hand. He is amazed that he never noticed how powerful his dad was before as he looks at all the huge veins cascade from his forearms all the way up his arms and directly into his father’s head. Ronnie looks over at his son and is very distraught. He squeezes Winston’s hand tightly as he pulls him in to hug him. The stunned young man bawls as his dad holds him against his chest. After a few seconds, he lets go of Winston and the sad young man gets down on his knees again to talk to his father. Ronnie tenses his muscles a few times since the pain is so excruciating and looks at his son’s eyes before he speaks. “Look at you Win, you have really grown up since I last saw you. It seems like yesterday that you were just barely walking…..actually it has been that long hasn’t it?” Ronnie pauses for a few moments before he reaches over to grab Winston’s arm to squeeze it. “I am a bit surprised though that you haven’t started growing muscles like your old man here. I want you to be big and strong so you can handle things in case you need to protect yourself or possibly the love of your life perhaps.” He tenses his chest and arms again to show Winston that he stayed in shape all the way up to the accident. He then smiles at him before he speaks again. “I may not have ever heard that you were gay son, but just know that I am okay with it. I’m not sure how your mother would feel about it, but I love you more than you will ever know.” He puts his arms out again to embrace his son and pulls him in to hold him one last time. The power radiating from him dissipates as Winston feels his dad fading away as the machines beep before he flat lines as well. The nurses that were trying to revive his mother move over to Ronnie and begin doing CPR on him as they push Winston out of the way. The young man falls onto the ground and yells in agony as he witnesses both of his parents die in front of him. After a few seconds he feels a small hand move up against his shoulder. He looks up and sees that it is Ioan who joins him on the floor to comfort him. “I didn’t say it would be easy mate, but you were here to see them one last time. I know it hurts a lot, but this will help you heal. *gets up and reaches his hand out to pull Winston up off the ground* Come on, it is time to move on to the next question. We will have to leave this place first though.” Winston stops sobbing and leaves the room only to turn back around to look in at them one last time. Ioan grasps his hand and starts pulling him away towards the front of the ER lobby. They walk through the doors as it vanishes behind them. The young man turns and is stunned by what just happened. Ioan takes him back to where he was staying at in the cave and has him sit down. “Rest for a few minutes Winston and eat something. This was a difficult situation I know. Think on it if you need to and I will return to go to the next question.” Winston spends a few minutes sitting there before he gets up to find Ioan standing just outside the cave. The little muscleman is quite surprised that he is already there. “Wow, are you sure you want to move on so quickly. This next question is going to be a bit tough as well. Why do you think your boyfriend left you? This question must be answered with a truthful answer or your quest ends here.” Winston thinks that he knows the answer to this question but before he says a word, Ioan shakes his head no. “Hold on Winston. I don’t think that you were told the whole story from Pierre. It is time to go back into the cave again and find out what the answer is okay?” The two men walk back in and proceed down the cave corridor again. They stop moving forward when a balcony appears in front of them with a beautiful lake in the background. There are numerous boats on the lake and it appears that there is some party going on. Winston seems a bit confused by the whole scenario before he hears Pierre’s voice off to the side. It sounds like he is moaning quite loudly and is having sex with someone. He then hears multiple voices and rushes onto the balcony before going into a side door into what he thinks is a beach house. Ioan stands outside and looks on as Winston finds Pierre sandwiched between three heavily muscled men. His ex-boyfriend is being fucked by one of them as the two others take turns fucking his mouth with their huge rods. None of them are Gustav though since Winston would recognize him immediately. His blood pressure rises as he confronts his ex. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS PIERRE!? You told me you were with Gustav, why would you lie to me?” Pierre immediately shoves the guy that is inside him off and jumps to his feet. He is completely soaked in sweat as he tries to compose himself. The three muscle monsters begin to move towards Winston, but Pierre tells them to stop. “Oh mon gawd mon ami! What are you doing here? I didn’t expect you to show up so soon after we broke up. Gustav? Uhhh…..well I was going to go see him after taking a few days off, you know? *seems really confused* Uhhhh, how did you find this place? I don’t think we ever came here when we were dating did we?” The three musclemen move down to the lake and find an open area to lie on the ground. Pierre notices that they are going there without him as he tries to move past Winston. The angry American grabs his French lover on the arm and grips it tightly. “I want answers Pierre, what are you doing with these guys? Were you doing this shit when we were together?” The athletic Frenchman pauses for a few seconds and sighs. “Winston, I have needs. I need to satisfy these needs by going all in with it. Originally, it was just one, but it has grown quite a bit since then and now I have three awesome sluts that make me feel alive. *pulls Winston’s hand off his arm* Maintenant, si vous pouvez me excuser mon ami, I need to go join my friends so we can finish what we started when you got here.” The nude Frenchman rushes out the side door and down to the lakeshore as the three huge hulks begin to mess around with each other again. Winston walks out slowly and looks over the balcony as he watches his ex-boyfriend get ravaged by each one of them as he yells in ecstasy feeling his body getting thrashed by each one of them. Ioan climbs up onto the bannister of the balcony and sits beside where Winston has decided to wait for him. The irritated human looks over and shakes his head. “How the hell did I not know about this Ioan? This isn’t the guy I knew. He never once let on that he was into this kind of thing.” Ioan reaches over and pats him on the back. “Mate, these kinds of things happen more than you realize. What he is doing with those men right now is a fantasy for quite a few muscle lovers. Of course, not every man is as reckless as he is.” The little man points down at the orgy as Pierre yells in French as one of the men pumps him full of cum. The two others pump their cocks as the Frenchman licks the precum off both of them. They both grunt as they shoot two massive rivers of cum all over his face and chest. He takes turns gobbling down the huge poles as they continue to spurt into his mouth. His appetite for their muscular bodies is so great that he makes himself cum without ever touching his cock. The volcano splashes all over his chest and legs as one of the men grabs a hold of his rod and grips it tightly. When he lets go, his cock continues to shoot huge ropes all over himself. At this point, Winston is quite disgusted and gets down off the bannister and turns to leave. Ioan follows behind as they walk back through the cave as the beach house disappears behind them. The young man sits down again and puts his head in his hands. Ioan stands above him to speak. “That was supposed to be tough mate. This was meant to show you that he is not who you thought he was.” “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Our last conversation was about me being muscular. He said I wasn’t his type. Do you know if he is really dating Gustav or not?” Ioan grins and shakes his head yes. Winston is stunned that he is actually with him and wonders if he should ever tell him about Pierre’s secret. The little man doesn’t offer much of an answer to that thought. “When you are ready Winston, we can move on to the last question.” The story will conclude next week. Check out a previous installment in this series: Rainbow: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/2429-the-little-man-and-the-rainbow/

So I've thought of a new story, so let me know what you guys think. This part is just a rough introduction, no growth, no sex or anything. That will come later. Shoutout to SeaMuscle and ragmangsm for being an inspiration for this story! --- So, today I met an alien. I was reading a book under a tree between classes, when I noticed someone approached me. I mentally marked the page and closed the book, turning my attention to the person that was standing next to me. "Can I help you?" I asked. The person wore a pair of baggy sweatpants and a hoodie, which was weird considering how warm it was. The hood covered his eyes, but I could see the lower half of his face, which looked coal black. He wasn't wearing any shoes. He didn't look very tall, I guessed him being about 5'6''. "Yes, er, are you Michael Rector?" His voice was deep, but it had a strange quality to it. I nodded, "Yeah, that's me." I noticed he was holding a package in his hands. Was he a mailman? "Er... I'm not from this planet, and I've been sent here as my punishment. You're one of the several jailers that have been picked for me. Will you accept your designation?" I was not expecting that. "Uh, what? I'm supposed to jail you?" He shuffled his feet, that I just noticed looked more chimp-like than human-like, and looked down, "Y-yes. You don't need to accept, of course. I can go to the next jailer." "What exactly does being your jailer mean? What would I have to do if I accept?" He put the package down on the ground, reached into a pocket and took out a folded paper. He unfolded it and with a cough, started reading it: "Dear potential jailer, you, along with several other humans, have been picked for the role based on specific criteria that we've checked beforehand. #548635-5422, the entity standing before you, broke his contract of servitude, and thus has been sent to your planet for one lifetime as their punishment. If you accept your designation, the punished will be bound to you, having to follow your orders and you would discipline them if you deemed necessary (disciplinary remote control included in the package). Note that the punished doesn't need any sustenance beyond the starlight, but starving them is considered abuse of your authority, and the punished will be retrieved from your care. If you agree to being a jailer for #548635-5422, thank you for making the Universe a better place." With that, he refolded the paper, put it back inside, picked up the package and waited for my reply. I was silent for a moment, absorbing the information he just dumped on me. "Well. I was not expecting that. I have one more question. Am I at liberty to stop being your jailer after I accept, or is this a 'till death do us part' deal?" "Well, as was in the paper, this punishment is for one lifetime, so if you die, my punishment is over." "You mean... oh. What's to stop you from killing me right after I accept?" "I have a very strong mental control chip installed, which renders me incapable to even think of harming my jailer and forcing me to obey their orders." "So let me get this straight. I get a personal servant with no repercussions and no downsides?" I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face. "Yes." He looked almost relaxed, but I wasn't sure I was reading his posture right. "So what do I have to do?" "You need to insert a DNA sample into the box, which unlocks it, and sends the signal that the jailer accepts to my chip." My eyes widened with surprise, "I need to cum in the box? Really?" He tilted his head, "I'm not sure what you mean. I doubt you'd fit in there. Usually this is done by pouring the jailer's spit into the receptacle." "Right, that makes much more sense. Alright, give me the box." He gave me the box and pointed out the opening, into which I spit. A few moments later, the box disintegrated and all that was left of it was a device that looked like a tv-remote. "Well, let's go home, shall we?" He nodded, and followed after me. ---So that's it for now. As always, any comments, critique and anything else is greatly appreciated!

"Ah, Jeremy, glad I've caught you!" "Ah, Mr. Stuart" smiled Jeremy and then noted the expression on his face, "Is everything all right, sir?" "In a word, no" came the reply and with that gestured the exchange student into a spare classroom that wasn't being used. As he said behind a desk he sighed and said "I'm afraid we may have to cancel the Christmas Fayre!" "No" exclaimed the Englishman, "but the effort we've put into it all. What will the school think?" "I know" replied Mr. Stuart, "but, well, look at this e-mail I've had this morning" and with that handed his smartphone to Jeremy who read it with an air of concern, "Dear Sir, I am sorry to have to report that John Cena is no longer able to be your Father Christmas for the fayre that you are holding on December 19th next due to having suffered a broken ankle in his most recent bout. We will be more than happy to refund the cost of hiring him" As Jeremy handed the phone back, his heart sank. He had agreed to be the elf in charge of Santa's grotto and had instigated the poll on the school's website for people to choose who should play Santa, "and now the whole school will be so disappointed" he frowned and then suddenly suggested "What about him?" he asked "Him?" asked Mr. Stuart As Jeremy mimed raising a sword he gasped, "But what if he, you know" and opened his eyes wide to recreate the expression on the Ultimate Musketeer's face when he orgasmed after his last appearance, "I mean you haven't been him since Hallowe'en. He's going to be in a foul mood you know!" "I cannot disappoint the school" came the reply and so it was agreed that Jeremy would meet up at Mr. Stuart's house early on the Saturday morning and between them they would try and convince his alter ego to step into the breach *** "NO!" came the resounding reply "What?" exclaimed Alexi and Jeremy in unison "NO!" the Ultimate Musketeer insisted, "Why should I? You seem to forget that I was a hero back in the time of Louis XIII and XIV. Anyway who is this Santa Claus?" "He's a person who delivers gifts to children across the world!" replied Jeremy in the back of the Musketeer's mind, "He's a force for good in the world just like you!" Before the hero could answer, Alexi said "Have you ever celebrated Christmas?" "Of course I" the Musketeer started but then stopped and bowed his head and said softly "No, monsieur" and explained that whilst the person who hosted him every time had indeed celebrated Christmas, he had never experienced it himself and with that sat down on a chair and held his head in his hands. The Ultimate Musketeer, perhaps the most powerful man ever to exist, was crying. "There, There" said Jeremy and added "When I go back to England next week, I will let you celebrate Christmas as yourself!" "But, you can't" exclaimed Alexi, "his and your secret!" "No, it can be done!" and explained that every Christmas, whatever the weather, he had left the house where he lived after the presents had been unwrapped in the morning and walked around his neighbourhood speaking to the residents who were on their own or just needed a little solace, "If I explain to my parents that I wish to speak to someone who lives a little out of the way and that I will be back rather later than normal, that will give me time to become the Musketeer and introduce myself as a friend who has been invited to take part in Christmas!" "You'd do that?" sniffed the Musketeer, "for me?" "I'm British" chuckled Jeremy, "I'd do it for anyone!" With that the Musketeer stood up and bellowed "Monsieur, you have a Santa Claus!" *** "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our school's Christmas Fayre and would you please welcome our very special guest, Santa Claus!" As the principal led the applause the Ultimate Musketeer, dressed in a bright red outfit stepped out of his grotto and with a mighty "HO, HO, HO!" announced "I now declare this Fayre and my Grotto OPEN!" and with that a rush of kindergarteners surged towards the grotto and for the rest of the afternoon, an almost constant supply of "Please Santa, can I have a lightsabre?" and "Could I have a Minion?" and one rather quiet "Santa, can I wish for snow?" came through and all the while the Musketeer laughed "Ho, Ho, Ho!". Just as the grotto was about to close another person came in and as the lad sat on Santa's lap he was asked "And what would you like for Christmas?" "Mr. Cena" came the reply, "I want to ask a favour of you!" and as the Musketeer looked at the lad sitting on his lap, Jeremy exclaimed in the back of his mind "Oh, lord, Jake!" "And what favour would that be?" replied the Musketeer, not breaking character for a second. "Sir" came the rather modest reply, "Could you help me raise funds please?" "Raise funds?" asked the Musketeer "There's a hero of mine" Jake replied, "who I first met a few months ago. Sir, he's the biggest, strongest man in the world and, I realise this is unlikely to happen, but, sir, could you wrestle him for charity?" "And who is this hero?" asked the Musketeer "He calls himself the Ultimate Musketeer, sir" came the reply, "I first thought he was a comic book hero, but then, sir, I met him, just as I am meeting you and sir, he is magnificent. He's as big as Triple H, stronger than you and the Hulkster combined and oh, sir, could you wrestle him please?" "And if I did, where would the funds go to?" asked the Musketeer "To the charity that a friend of mine holds dear" came the reply, "a charity that raises funds for wounded warriors in my friend's homeland of England!" As the Musketeer listened, Jeremy couldn't believe what he was hearing. Jake, the person who had bullied him all semester considered him a friend. Jeremy asked the Musketeer if he could speak and asked "Lad, why do you want me to wrestle your hero?" "To admit to my friend that I was wrong" Jake said, "to admit that the Musketeers of old were heroes and that I shouldn't have bullied him over it. But, well, I'm the school's star quarterback, sir, if I don't bully someone who is different I'd be removed from my social circle of jocks. Consider it my Christmas present to him, sir!" Now it was Jeremy's turn to cry and as the Musketeer replied, "I'll speak with this Ultimate Musketeer of which you speak. Now, you run along and I'll see what I can do!" in the back of his mind he could hear Jeremy wail "Thank you, Jake, Thank you!" *** As promised the Ultimate Musketeer did celebrate Christmas with Jeremy's parents and once they had got over his size and strength, which was proven by him cracking walnuts with his fingers, they treated him as one of their own family. They shared their chocolate selection boxes with him, they pulled crackers with him which he always won, and they shared their Christmas dinner with him. And in deference to his host's nationality, he stood respectfully as the Queen delivered her Christmas address to which he whimpered "Dieu Sauve La Reine" as he saluted the National Anthem. As the sun started to set he gently shook his hosts hand and said "Madame, I thank you for allowing me to visit this, my first proper celebration of the Mass of Christ. If there is anything I can do for you, please let your son know!" and with that he bowed and let himself out of the door. As he walked slowly to the beach he started to cry gently and murmured "Thank you, Jeremy for allowing me to celebrate Christmas!" "Not a problem in the slightest" replied Jeremy and added "And don't worry, when I get back to school in the New Year I'll arrange that wrestling bout between you and John Cena" and chuckled "Shall I send a picture of you posing naked or just as you are?" As the Ultimate Musketeer's booming laugh filled the air, he stood on the beach overlooking the sea where Jeremy lived he raised his sword and roared "Thy honour is restored" and as Jeremy made his way back to his home, the Ultimate Musketeer said "Joyeux Noel, mon amis" to which Jeremy replied "And the same to you big guy!"

Part 1, Part 2 TROY “Ok, Maggot, welcome to my favorite room in the school! Welcome to the weight room! Can’t you just smell the testosterone? That’s right, the equipment in this room has forged thousands of sniveling skinny boys into monstrously jacked-up men! And it’s going to do that to you, too! Ready? Yeah, that wasn’t really a question. Get on the scale, Maggot! I want to see what I starting with. First, strip off you clothes, right down to your tighty whities. Yes, right here! I know there are other people around, even a couple of girls. Take ’em off or I’ll take ’em off for you! There! What, are you fucking shaking? You’re sure as hell turning bright red! I want you to remember this. I want you to remember the shame you’re experiencing over your own skinny pathetic body. I’m going to make that go away. Now check this out. That’s right, Maggot, I stripping down, too. Check out the monster pecs, the brick-like abs, and the massive muscle pillars I call legs. Think I’m ashamed of my body? You’re damn right, no. I love my body! If I had my way, I’d go around like this all the time, all the fucking time! Now, up on the scale! Geeze, seriously? 140 pounds? And you’re 5’ 8”? Damn, I got a long fucking way to go! Now me. There, that’s a man’s measurments! 6’ 2” and 260 pounds! Fuck yeah! If I had tits and a pussy, I’d fuck myself! What are you saying, Maggot? You could never… what? Get like me. HAHAHAHAHA! No one fucking expects that! First of all, you’re only 5 fucking 8 and since you’re 18, I wouldn’t count on getting much taller. Second, I’ve been working out since I was 11 years old – Look at this bicep! Look how huge it is – like a fucking softball! Look at that perfect peak with that thick vein snaking right over the top! That’s 7 years of building and sculpting; 7 years of being forged by the iron. I don’t care how good your genetics are, in the few short months we have before graduation, you won’t even been in the same county as me, the same state, the same country! All you have to do is get bigger than your friend Ralphie and that wuss Philips, and I know you can do that! Now put your uniform back on and let’s get started. Yeah, I’m staying shirtless while I train you! I know it’s against the weight room rules, but who’s going to stop me? I told you I love my fucking body, every jacked up inch of it! Now get on the fucking bench; I’m going to show you how to do a bench press. What do you mean you know how to do a bench press? You don’t know shit! Ok, then, show me. Get on the fucking bench and show me a bench press. We’ll start with just the bar. I don’t want you hurting yourself; it’s way too early in the game for that. Was that it? Was that your bench press? Pathetic. For starters, you were too far forward on the bench, you were gripping the bar all wrong. You practically dropped it on your chest – there’s something called a negative rep, Maggot—and you lifted it up at a slant. It’s got to go up evenly. Get off the fucking bench! I’ll show you how it’s done. First I’m going to put a plate on either side of the bar. I don’t think I can do a set with just the bar. I’d feel like I was lifting fucking air. Yeah, you could be benching at least this much by graduation, probably more. Depends on you. This is just a fucking warm-up weight for me! Now look how I’m positioned on the bench – you gotta pay close attention because the bench is just a narrow little strip and it gets swallowed up under my fucking wide-ass, granite back—so you gotta look to see I’m positioned that when the bar comes down it will touch my massive upper chest. ‘course you’ve got a much smaller target so your position is going to be a little different. Look how I’m grabbing the bar, evenly on both sides. You can use these markings on the bar to guide your hands. What, did you think they were only for decoration? Now lift the bar out of the supports – I see you looking at the giant carved triceps exploding off the back of my arms, but this is a chest exercise, so I want you looking at my chest! Good! Now lower the bar slowly to your chest. Then slowly raise it back up. Now when you’re doing this, try and concentrate on your chest muscles, feel them working as they lift the weight. Now, your pecs are so small you might not be able to do this yet. So, for right now, just imagine it. Then when you get the bar back up, pause for a second and squeeze your pecs like this. See how my pecs bulge into mountains, see the striations surface? That’s how you can tell I’m squeezing them. It’s not going to be as easy to tell with the little nubs you have, but time will fix that. Now get on that bench and let’s see you try! Brian’s Journal Day 3 Fuck, I can hardly move. My legs barely made it up the stairs to my room without collapsing last night. I was wobbly and shaking all over! I fell into bed, didn’t undress or anything. And I woke up to Mount Troy ripping me out of my bed again, flexing those massive arms of his! And when he set me down… unimaginable pain across my entire body. He said I was just stiff and that all I needed was to stretch and go for a run. A run?!!! I didn’t even want to go for a crawl! Everything I had hurt. It didn’t matter to him. He dragged me down to the kitchen and poured another protein shake down my throat. Then he threw me outside and made me stretch – Fuck did that hurt! And then I had to jog. I made it a whole block, my body wracked with pain, before I threw up the protein shake. Troy just told me to shake it off and keep going. We made it another block and then I just started stumbling all the time. Finally, he said it was enough and we could walk back to the house. He asked me how the stiffness was and holy crap it was actually better. He grinned at that and told me he was giving me the day off from the weight room for recuperation. But he ordered me to eat everything my mother made for me and to get at least 8 hours of sleep. Then he forced me to drink another two protein shakes before he left. When I got into school one of the first people I saw was Susie Nickerson. I’ve always had a thing for her. I was going to ask her out this week, but as soon as she saw me in my Troy’s Maggot shirt, she busted out laughing. I wanted to run away, but even if I did, I was in so much pain the best I could have managed would have been a rapid stagger. That’s it! I’m done! I know he said he’d make my life hell if I didn’t go through with this, but I don’t know how it could get worse than this! Tomorrow when he shows up, I’m telling him. He can beat me into unconsciousness if he wants. I’m through with this shit! Next Part

Be sure to read the entire series here: Christmas Surprise: https://muscle-growt...se-part-1-of-7/ New Beginnings: https://muscle-growt...gs-part-2-of-7/ Progression to Sex: https://muscle-growt...ex-part-3-of-7/ Danger and Passion: https://muscle-growt...on-part-4-of-7/ Changes Who We Are Forever: https://muscle-growt...er-part-5-of-7/ Magical Suit: https://muscle-growt...it-part-6-of-7/ Culmination of Destiny ‘Hola Eduardo, es agradable verte de nuevo.’ Ed’s face lights up once he sees who it is and rushes over to give his old friend a big hug. ‘Holy crap, I have missed you so much Vaughn. When you moved to Maryland, I had hoped that we would hang out a lot more, but it never materialized for some reason.’ Vaughn moans as he runs his hands along Ed’s big muscles and leans in to give the big guy’s pec shelf a nice wet kiss. Ed grins and leans down to give him a soft kiss on his as well. ‘Well Eduardo…….you haven’t seen me because I was brought up here apparently to wait for you. Your wonderful friend Kris has made me feel so welcome here. He even……shall we say…..lets me worship him and…..*pauses to look away*service him…..when he isn’t with you of course.’ Ed laughs a bit as he continues to hold Vaughn in his arms. He looks at the Hispanic man’s muscular body and sighs as he rubs the nicely-shaped balls of muscle in his arms and shoulders. They go to sit on the bed and start kissing each other deeply. It isn’t long before it progresses to Ed running his tongue along Vaughn’s gorgeous arms as he moans feeling the hormones rushing through his body. He pulls the smaller stud’s pants down as he moves down to lick on his tight stomach and abs. Vaughn reaches down to squeeze on the bigger man’s pecs as his nipples get erect and push up against the soft brown fabric in his top. They eventually start massaging each other’s big packages as the moaning gets louder. Ed pulls Vaughn’s underwear down and swallows his thick brown cock gently sucking it as it glides in and out of his mouth. They lose themselves in each other and are completely unaware that they have a guest as Kris sneaks in behind them and slides on to the bed. Ed looks over and smiles as he continues to massage the Hispanic stud’s rod with his tongue. Kris is wearing his traditional red and black suit for the upcoming holiday season but his big beefy torso still sticks out from inside the outfit’s fabric. Ed moans as the older man wraps his arms around Vaughn’s waist and opens the flap of his suit that hides his thick meaty rod and slides it inside the small man’s tight hole. The brown-skinned hunk squeals feeling his anus being filled to the brim with Kris’s giant love muscle. Ed feels the man’s balls filling up with cum as they twitch and swell against his face. He slows his pace down to let the Hispanic stud enjoy himself as Kris pounds him slowly getting every inch of his cock inside. The sweat increases along the hunky daddy’s chest and on top of his head as it glistens in the overhead lights and underneath his red suit. Ed rubs his hands on Vaughn’s chest feeling his rippling waist and then teases his nipples. As he does this, he tastes the Spanish speaker’s thick honey flowing down his throat. Kris pulls something out of one of his suit pockets and hands it over to Ed. He stops sucking on Vaughn to see what it is as the serviced Hispanic stud does so as well. It appears to be some kind of tube full with gold colored ointment on the inside. Ed looks up at Kris in a confused manner which makes the older bodybuilder laugh in his baritone. ‘This is different Kris. What am I going to do with this?’ ‘You will find out now won’t you Edmond. I think you will enjoy it quite a bit. It isn’t permanent by any means so just let it work its magic and we will get to the good stuff later.’ ‘Ohh so I am rubbing this on me and not Vaughn? You have always been so good to me Kris.’ Vaughn looks back at Kris with his lips puckered a bit at him. Kris laughs and waves his ring finger at him. ‘Now little pup, I have something for you as well.’ He pulls out what looks like a sounding wand from his other pocket. It isn’t silver though, but rather black with a gold tip on it. ‘Here you go V. Do you want me to help you insert it?’ Vaughn nods his head up and down as Kris takes the cover off of it. Ed looks on anxiously to see exactly what this device is supposed to do. The older man rubs on the younger stud’s legs as he quits thrusting inside him to reach down and take Vaughn’s cock into his hands. He strokes it slowly to get it erect again as Ed reaches down to massage his balls as Kris holds the sound in his left hand. ‘Are you ready for it cutie? *kisses him on his lips* Don’t worry about it okay? It only feels weird when it first goes in.’ Vaughn seems a bit uneasy about it but Ed distracts him by placing the Hispanics hands on his pecs and tells him to squeeze them. They both moan as Kris smiles and holds the young man’s cock upright. He slowly pushes his slit open with the bottom of the sound and slowly maneuvers it inside. The young stud’s body tenses as the pressure makes him grimace a bit. Kris slowly strokes his pole as it slowly slides further down inside. It finally makes it all the way down until only the gold tip is visible. Ed and Kris look at each other and wink as Vaughn stops groaning and calms down. ‘Hey Kristian, I don’t seem to feel it anymore. What is it supposed to do?’ He suddenly goes quiet as Ed immediately notices something happening to him. The long rod disintegrates into Vaughn’s cock as the big vein in the side of it pulses and begins growing. The cock itself is getting thicker as Ed feels the brown-skinned stud’s balls swelling as his sack stretches to accommodate the two tennis balls. The growth moves down his legs as Ed feels his quads growing wider as the muscles thicken up and form large diamonds. It moves down into his calves which reshape themselves to look like huge hearts. Edmond leans down to lick both of them as Vaughn’s cock finds its way down to Ed’s face. It rubs its thick pre in his hair which gets a few grunts out of the big stud. Kris starts to thrust inside the growing man again as he feels his expanding bottom’s firm ass swelling up into two giant balloons. ‘Ohh fuck yeah V, you are going to make your big daddy cum buckets inside you.’ ‘OY VEY! *grabs his throat*…..OH WOW MY VOICE…..MMMMM IT IS MOVING UP INTO MY CHEST NOW!’ His tight waist is now growing wider as the muscles make room for his growing 8-pack. His nicely developed arms are blowing up as well as incredibly loud stretching sounds blast through the room. The veins force themselves to expand as his biceps and forearms nearly double in size. The splits in his biceps disappear as they grow into giant singular beefy mounds. The tennis balls of muscle in his forearms have now grown into huge baseballs. Ed can feel his balls working overtime as they contract violently. Vaughn yells in ecstasy as his growing pecs inflate themselves further outward from his chest as they now heave over his new swollen 8-pack. His nipples dangle over the edges as they stretch out wider making his cock throb wildly. Edmond reaches down to grab it as he anticipates a massive load as the Hispanic stud pants in agony. His nicely built back stretches further out from his core as newly formed muscles appear out from nowhere as he feels his lats flaring without even trying. Kris squeezes them tightly making Vaughn squirt a massive jet of pre into Ed’s face. They both laugh as the final sequence proceeds on the growing young man. His youthful looks disappear as his clean cut face is now covered in a nice thick layer of black fur. Ed moans seeing Vaughn’s head maturing in front of him as his chiseled brown skin gleans of sweat against his short black hair and brown eyes. Kris is pounding him as hard as he can now making it nearly impossible for the newly minted hulk to hold his load in. Ed opens his mouth to catch his contents as Vaughn roars in delight with his immensely manly new voice. The cum is amazingly thick and white as Ed quickly gulps it down. He feels his friend’s cock writhing as it pumps rope after rope of hot jizz savoring the sweet nectar as it fills his belly. Kris squeezes him harder as he yells as well pumping his big load into the Hispanic hulk’s intestines. Ed slides over to feed some the cum he still has in his mouth into Kris’s as they lock lips and pound on each other’s chests. Vaughn squeezes them both into him as they all lay down on the bed together. ‘Oh my gawd Kristian I feel incredible. Is this your gift to me?’ ‘Of course it is V. I hope you wanted to be bigger than you were because this is a permanent change.’ Vaughn grins and rubs his powerful body as his hands move down to his giant veiny cock. ‘Umm…..I think I need to cum again guys. Are you both really hungry because I think I can feed an army with what I have in my crotch? *winks*’ They laugh and nod their heads as the Hispanic hulk gets onto his knees in between Ed and Kris and starts stroking in a steady rhythm. His balls instantly swell up as he feels them contracting within seconds. ‘Wow that was……QUICK…..OH MY GAWD!’ Both of his older partners stick their tongues out as they catch a few ropes of his thick spunk as it flies all over the bed and the wall behind them. They each take turns gulping it down as it continues to pour out Vaughn’s cockhead. He finally finishes a minute later as Ed and Kris gently massage his back and ass to comfort him after such a grueling session. Kris turns to look at Ed and smiles knowing that his turn will come next. ‘Okay Edmond, you know it is time for you to open your gift right?’ Kris says with a smile. ‘Yeah I know Kris. Just give me a few minutes okay so I can revel in my friend’s intoxicating beauty.’ The Hispanic hulk grunts as he grabs Ed in his arms and squeezes him tightly. Ed moans before doing the same to Vaughn as they kiss each other quite passionately. Kris looks on as he sits back still in his red suit and puts his arms behind his head. He scoops up several strands of cum from the wall behind him and rubs it into his protruding pecs. The two younger studs stop kissing to turn and look at their older master as they hear and see his chest growing as it shreds the front of his suit as his two thick hairy mountains drip with sweat. He growls as he flexes his guns making them grow as they make quick work of his sleeves. The two men look on in amazement before moving over to nurse on his melons as they run their tongues along his hard nipples. He wraps his huge arms around both of them and squeezes them as his biceps grow even larger. They moan louder as they continue to work his pecs over and tug extremely hard on his nipples. ‘OH YEAH BOYS…..MAKE YOUR DADDY PROUD…..FUCKING MAKE ME CUM…..’ They chew even harder as his cock rises between them and swells even bigger. It shoots a volcano of precum all over his red pants as his quads and ass blast through the seams in his pants and rip through the sides. They are completely lost in his incredible muscularity as he continues to grow even bigger all over his body. His suit is now in tatters as the bed breaks below them. They continue to accelerate his growth as his chest heaves violently. ‘AHHH…..YEAH…..BOYS…..FUCK…..MMMMM…..I CAN’T HOLD IT…..ANY…..LONGER…..’ The volcano of precum disappears as Kris thrusts his huge lower body up into the air as garden hose sized jets of cum fly into the ceiling as wood crashes into the ground below. He yells in delight as the two men stop turning him on as he holds them close to him to protect them from the falling debris. His solid 450 pound frame doesn’t take any damage whatsoever from the shrapnel as all three of them laugh hysterically. ‘Whew guys, I have needed to do this for months. I saved it for this very moment Edmond, but V holds a special place in my heart as well so I am glad that you could be a part of this too.’ They both kiss Kris and huddle up against him as he slowly shrinks back down to his normal 325 pound size. Vaughn makes a sad face but Kris punches him in the arm which makes the hulk puff his bicep up. They start to wrestle around as Ed watches in delight. The two men have meant a lot to him for so long that he is thankful that they can be in the same place with him. After a few minutes of horseplay, they stop to relax as their thickly muscled bodies drip profusely with sweat. ‘Alright Edmond, now you can open your gift. Sorry I just had to do that little transformation for you, I’m sure you will understand, right?’ *he smiles and winks* Ed eagerly opens the tube of ointment and notices its glittery sheen right away. Kris moves up next to him after Vaughn sits down on the dirty floorboards. He squeezes a pile of it on his big hands and slowly rubs it into the beefy stud’s neck. He leans in to give Ed a nice long kiss as he puts a little more on his back. ‘WHOA! I think I can feel it working already Kris. Aww shit, I think I am going to ruin these nice pajamas you gave me.’ He feels his body growing as his thick muscles grow even thicker as they pull the brown fabric to its limits showing off his gargantuan pecs. Kris winks as his partner’s pants rip all the way down the seams as his seismic tree trunks and enormous calves quickly destroy whatever has been covering them. His body hair turns a bit silvery which stuns Ed quite a bit. He feels his huge arms tearing the sleeves apart as they grow another three inches. His monstrous mammaries finally bust through the front as the rest of his dark fur changes over to the same silvery color as his legs. Kris massages them with his hands and moans deeply as he reaches down to rip off the rest of Ed’s brown top. He sucks on his hard nipples as they ache under the pressure of Ed’s growing tits. Vaughn strokes his own cock as he witnesses his good friend’s transformation continuing. Before long, Kris enters Ed’s hole as he lovingly fucks him. The horny latino moves back over to the broken bed to massage Kris’s huge back as the hunky daddy works over his bigger partner’s amazing ass. ‘I feel…..different somehow Kris. What exactly is this ointment supposed to do to me other than make me bigger than I already am?’ Kris puts his hand over Ed’s mouth as he continues to fuck him. Vaughn slaps his own cock on Kris’s back before he finally enters the huge silver daddy. The three huge studs continue to worship and fuck each other for an additional several minutes before they finally unload inside each other. Kris pulls out of his new silver haired lover and flips him around to prepare him for the upcoming white rain. ‘Are you ready for your facial Edmond Kringle…..uhhh…..I mean my silver pup.’ Ed looks into Kris’s eyes and looks a bit bewildered but nods his head in agreement anyway. The hunky daddy smiles down at him as his cock throbs wildly against his huge lover’s shoulder. He then slaps it against Ed’s face before he strokes it a few more times. Ed runs his tongue along the sides of the shaft before Kris’s moans louder than he ever has before. Vaughn proceeds to fuck him harder to coincide with the whole event. The huge latino stud holds the mature man tightly against him as he feels his own load building up. ‘Mmmm feels really good V. Fill me up really good with that big hot load of yours.’ Vaughn growls deeply as he yells in ecstasy shooting an immense flood of cum inside the huge muscle daddy. Kris turns his head around to kiss his young admirer’s lips as he shoots his own load all over Ed’s hairy face. The giant river coats the handsome stud’s silvery beard and the hair on his head as he opens his mouth to catch the rest of it. He then swallows Kris’s cock down his throat to gulp on the massive load as he massages the big daddy’s thick muscular body. The three men finally fall over completely spent from the amazing sex they just had. Both Ed and Vaughn lovingly run their tongues and hands all over Kris as he lays there looking down at them with his arms around their backs as he rubs their soaked muscles slowly and methodically. They take turns moving up to kiss him before he decides to sit up. He then gets up and walks over to the nearby window to look at the snowy landscape and its icy waters. He signals for Ed to come over to the window to be with him. ‘Come here Edmond, I want to show you something.’ ‘Umm okay, just give me a minute. Should I put something on first?’ ‘No, you can walk around here completely nude if you want Ed. This is your new home now, you won’t be returning to your old life ever again because you won’t ever have to.’ Ed seems shocked by this revelation as he walks over to be with Kris. The thick muscle daddy leans down to plant a huge kiss on his silvery haired lover and holds him tightly in his arms. Vaughn gets up to put a robe on and sits in a chair before getting up again. Kris turns around to wave at him before the Hispanic stud leaves the room. Ed seems really confused by what is transpiring. ‘You see Edmond that ointment I gave to you is not meant to be temporary, it is a permanent potion that is meant to transform you into your next life. This is the one and only time that I have ever lied to you about anything, and I love you so much. I…..am at the end of my life now and I have found my true successor. That is you beautiful and I want you to continue my legacy okay?’ Ed looks into his eyes as he feels the tears welling up from inside him. Kris rubs his back slowly as he squeezes his partner into his chest and neck. ‘It is okay to be upset man I totally understand what you are thinking. You see…..when I met you last Christmas by that fireplace I had no idea that I would fall for you so much but I did. I confess that I have always planned on turning you into a Kringle, but I never knew how incredibly hot you would become after your change either.’ Kris lets him go long enough to go grab an old body-sized mirror from across the room to bring over to where he is standing. They stand in front of it together and look at each other’s hugely muscled physiques. Ed can now see the thick silvery fur running up and down his body which shocks him a bit at first. Kris’s darker fur makes him a bit jealous. ‘Why am I the silver one though Kris? Why couldn’t I look like you?’ ‘You see Edmond, you will be taking over my duties now and all of the people down below us will be expecting silvery white, not brown or black or even red fur. Don’t worry you will be given my powers as well. V will be with you here to keep you motivated so you won’t be alone ever.’ ‘So Vaughn knew about this too?’ ‘Yes he did. V has been up here for quite some time actually. He didn’t know that I would give him that gift though. I’m sure he left us here because he wanted to be alone for awhile, but he will be fine once some time passes. You will remind him of me since he cares about you so much.’ Ed continues to hold on to Kris tightly against him as he kisses the big muscle daddy again. The hunky older man looks into his lover’s eyes and seems transfixed on them. Ed feels like he is frozen in place as Kris’s eyes grow dark as his pupils completely dilate. The stunned silvery haired stud feels his own do the same thing as they remain still for nearly an entire minute. After this sequence stops, they both fall to the ground and are unconscious. A few minutes later, Ed wakes up to find numerous half clothed men standing over him including Vaughn. They lift him up and carry him over to the broken bed again. He looks around for Kris, but he is nowhere to be seen for some reason. ‘Wha…..where is Kris? Vaughn please tell me…..he is still…..please…..’ Vaughn gets in bed with Ed and holds him tightly against his chest before he starts to cry. The big stud is absolutely dumbfounded and attempts to punch Vaughn in the chest which he blocks with his huge hands. He squeezes Ed tighter against him as the other men leave the room behind them. ‘I’m sorry Eduardo…..*tears rolling*…...I have dreaded this day for so long but I also knew it was coming soon…..he made you his successor so you are now part of the Kringle bloodline. I just hope you think I am a good enough partner for you. I know why he wanted me to look like this now. He wants you to be as happy as possible.’ Ed slowly weeps into Vaughn’s huge chest as they lie down together in the rubble. ‘Is he even here anymore Vaughn? Where did they take his body?’ ‘I’m not sure exactly how this works Eduardo. There was no body to be found because by the time I got back in here, he was already gone.’ Ed stops crying to let go of Vaughn and sits up. Vaughn gets behind him and wraps his arms around his buddy’s torso. He kisses his silver haired lover’s neck and face as he presses his body up against him. ‘I care about you more now than I ever have before Eduardo, which is why I have to get you prepared to do your duties as the planet’s gift giver. I need to get you dressed for the job and on your way. We unfortunately don’t have time to grieve right now because there is so much work to do.’ Ed turns his head to sort of smirk at him as the two men get up to go shower. After cleaning each other up, Vaughn rushes his muscle daddy down the hall and into wardrobe. Several men help get him get fitted into the classic red and white garb before they place a mirror in front of his face. Ed gasps as he sees his reflection. He literally looks like a muscular version of Santa Claus as he turns his body from left to right to marvel at himself. Vaughn laughs a bit as he gets directly behind him and holds him tightly. ‘You look amazing daddy, I think the transformation is complete papi, now you need to go back to civilization for tonight and make a bunch of guys dreams come true.’ Ed turns around to kiss Vaughn one last time. ‘Kris is right you were the perfect choice to be with me. Now I am wondering where my first destination will be……’ Ed immediately feels himself being transported to somewhere else. Before he has time to think any longer, he lands on a rooftop. He is a bit dazed as he takes a few steps and falls down the chimney that is just a few steps away. As he lands directly into the fire, it goes out and doesn’t leave a single mark on him. He can hear voices from inside the house as they are awakened from their slumber. Ed jumps to his feet to look himself over before he notices an extremely beefy man breathing heavy on a nearby couch. He isn’t alone either as his lover looks just as shocked as he is. ‘Oh my gawd, you are actually real aren’t you? I could have sworn that you were a myth, but here you are, and…..wow you are big…..and ridiculously hot.’ Ed shakes his head and smiles when he realizes that both men are from his past. He smiles really big when he moves over to join the two men on the couch. They clearly do not recognize him at all which makes it all the better for him. He sits between them as they both instinctively start rubbing on his suit with their hands and move in to snuggle with him a bit. ‘So boys, what is it that you want for Christmas? Let me check my list here…..*pulls a card from his pocket to see who they are just for show*……ahh yes…..Gus and Isaac. You two have both been good and bad this year I see. I think I can give you both gifts that you will enjoy immensely.’ He undoes his belt and unbuttons part of his suit to reveal his silver-haired muscular chest which shocks the two men greatly. They waste no time on getting more acquainted with him as he finds a bottle in his other pocket. He pulls it out to look it over and laughs as he puts it on a side table. He undoes the rest of his suit as both men strip naked. Edmond looks at them and winks as they start to have sex. This is the end of the story, but I want to know if you have a favorite part of the series. Let me know in the comments what you liked and didn't like. Check out this recent story: How to Change Your Life through Muscle Therapy Two-Parter: Part 1: https://muscle-growt...py-part-1-of-2/ Part 2: https://muscle-growt...py-part-2-of-2/

I want to thank muscledrain, who suggested the theme and general outline of this story, and Gunshotuk, who friendly assisted with proofreading. I added these links, by editing my original post. Chapter one is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7118-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-one/ Chapter two is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7140-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-two/?hl=magic With a little help from magic Chapter Three A few weeks earlier, it had been completely dark at the hour when the students arrived for the first lesson, but now rose-tinted clouds and an icy blue sky sleepily floated over the brick building, although the sun itself hadn’t reached above the roofs of the neighbouring buildings. The snow-ploughs had left high snow-drifts against the surrounding walls. The outdoors temperature had dropped to minus twenty Centigrades, and the breath of the students formed clouds of visible vapour in the air. One of the bus lines was at a standstill, due to the icy cover on one of the steepest roads in the city, and this had caused a late arrival of some students. Aram was irritated. With no bus, he had been late, and got on a later tram departure than usual. The situation had affected many students from the same parts of the city, and he wasn’t entirely alone in the corridors, although most of the students already sat in their lecture rooms. He put his jacket and his training bag in his locker, and grabbed his biology book. ’Oi Swotter!’, shouted the too familiar voice of Anderson. Aram sighed. Here we go again. The angry faces were there as usual, shouting things as usual, with one minor divergence: Peter wasn’t there. Slowly, a hunch began to emerge, but Aram wasn’t given the time to finish his thought. Anderson was there, wrestled Aram quickly, until he lay on the floor, getting salt stains on his clothes. Anderson shouting things about going back to his own country. ’You know that I was born here, don’t you?’, Aram asked. The scent of Anderson’s leather jacket. The scent of a cheap cologne and adolescent sweat. The scent of Anderson’s bad breath: Probably a yoghurt breakfast. The scents which could have been perfectly neutral, or even the scents of a friend, but now, since several years, the scents of humiliation. Anderson’s football scarf dangling in Aram’s face. Shouting. Spittle. Something about Arabs. ’And no. I’m not Arab either. My ancestors lived in Syria, Turkey and Iraq long before the Arabs.’ Anderson’s hand around Aram’s Adam’s apple. It was useless to resist: The footballer who dabbled at the gym was significantly stronger and heavier than Aram. Anderson’s bodyweight disappeared. At first, Aram was too dizzy to register what had happened, but, when he composed himself, he could watch Anderson in a knuckle fight with Peter. The other members of Anderson’s little crew standing passively, not knowing what to do. Aram adjusted his eyeglasses and his tie, quickly remembering how he had suffered from myopia since primary school, and how John had not. ’What are you doing, fatso? We are mates, aren’t we?’, Anderson tried to convince Peter. ’I’m tired of you Anderson. I’m tired of being the fatso. I’m tired of being your excuse for this. I thought that I was the leader of our gang, and then I realized, that I have been your puppet all the time. Always blame the fatso. Always nagging about how I was dismissed from the hockey team!’ ’But you were dismissed from the hockey team, fatso. You didn’t have what it takes. You realize that, huh? I remained in the football team because Coach saw my qualities. But why do you defend the little Prof? Have you become an Arab lover all of a sudden?’ Peter was over Anderson in a second. He must have left all self-control, and punched on the leaner rocker uncontrollably, using his weight to his advantage. But Anderson was faster, and used that to snake himself out of Peter’s grip and range. The three other rockers froze from their disbelief and hesitation, and surrounded Peter. ’Fatso! Fatso! Fatso!’ ’Frigging bloody wanker. Now I have a blood stain on my new plaid shirt. You will pay for this! What is it? Don’t want to be reminded of what a bad hockey player you are? A failure! A loser! And you were never a real rocker either! Couldn't afford a real jacket? Couldn’t afford a second hand car? Letting others pay for your beer and hot dogs on the motor festivals? Do you think I’m scared of you?’ The last sentence wasn’t delivered convincingly. Peter stared Anderson in his eyes. The small hesitation was all Peter needed. He pulled himself free. Neither Anderson, nor Peter, saw what happened next, but Aram saw it. John and Carl arrived. Both were of course taller than any of the young men, but Carl probably wasn’t in much better shape than Anderson, and considerably more light-weight than Peter. John, on the other side, towered over the group, his escalating results on the gym progressing almost visibly each day. It was probably the bad weather that had caused Carl to wear army cargotrousers instead of his favourite bleacherjeans, but, unlike John’s city camo, Carls trousers followed the greenish colour scheme for forests. The bulky and glossy bomber jackets enhanced their size, one black and one metallic blue. The military origin of two of their garments, was contrasted by the stylish details of others: Carl’s favourite maroon polo, his blue braces and blue shoe laces. John had shaved his braided ’Vikings’ hairdo off, and Aram noticed a black and yellow-striped polo shirt and thin, black braces, that John hadn’t worn before. Had he joined the SHARPs? Yes he had: Aram could see a new embrodiered patch on John’s jacket. Anderson’s followers looked at the two skinheads for a second, and left the place. Anderson became aware of Carl and John, and lit up. ’Oi fellas! He is all yours. Now he even attacks friends, not to mention poor Prof over there.’ It was Carl who answered. ’Don’t try to fast talk out of this. We heard before we saw. Get out of my way if you don’t want any more thrashing.’ Anderson was silent when he left the lockers. * * * Grumblingly, Carl had accepted that Peter followed them to the gym. ’What I can't understand, is that you have the patience to have him around you. If I had been you, I had wanted to punch his face in.’ Aram didn't know exactly what to say. Nor did John. Remembering two versions of reality gave you perspectives on things that could have been, but Carl wouldn’t believe them if they tried to tell him, and it was probably best a guarded secret. Carl wiped his boots with a wet tissue, in order to remove salt stains. ’You ought to wipe your boots too, John. Salt damages the leather terribly.’ Peter arrived into the locker room, and they changed the subject. * * * John and Carl were on their way home from a concert in another city. They had gone with two of Carl’s old friends, one of whom owned a car. The concert had been fantastic: Some of the song texts about injustice in society, some song texts about football or loyalty to your neighbourhood. Stirring refrains. Many in the audience sang along in the the refrains. John surrounded by friends, with Carl at his side. Sturdy Carl. Good Carl. John had never seen so many skins at the same place at the same time: Short, tall, some in their 60’s, some in the same age as John, and every age between. Some, going for a more old-fashioned take on the style, wore lambskin jackets of a sort that had been popular among skins in the early 1970’s, and not a few, coming from the southern parts, wore crombie coats (although they had bitterly found out that, up here, crombies better had to wait until spring arrived). Bearing in mind the outdoors temperature, it wasn’t strange that most of them wore bomber jackets: black, blue, green or burgundy. In the middle of the concert, John had a short vision of individuality blurring, and his consciousness floating in an atmosphere of affinity, belonging, and joy. John and Carl now shared the back seat of the car, while their friend in the front seat tried to keep the driver awake by talking to him. Loud music played in the car, something by Rancid, John thought. The wintery landscape passed by in the night, swiftly illuminated by the headlights, and then, as swiftly, left behind in the winter night’s darkness. Snow on spruces. Snow on firs. Snow. A road sign, warning for elks. Snow. A small village with a petrol station, street lamps illuminating the back seat for a few seconds, and then winter forest again. Darkness. Snow. He removed the hockey scarf from his neck. It was hot enough inside the car. Carl fell asleep shortly after they left the concert, resting his head against John’s shoulder. While awake, Carl was always so assertive, so confident. When he was asleep, his face looked different: Relaxed, innocent. During the journey he had slid, and his head now rested against John’s side. John had protectively laid his arm around Carl’s shoulders, feeling the silky but synthetic surface of Carl’s jacket. Suddenly, John became aware of, that Carl’s hand, which had rested against John’s trousers, had moved to touch John’s crotch through the fabric of the camo trousers. John hadn’t thought about it, but his tool was hard by being so close to his best friend, if that word was enough to describe his feelings. In his sleep, Carl began to clench John’s dick through the fabric. Clenched. And relaxed. Clenched. And relaxed. John tried to wake Carl up. Carl would be terrified if he had known what he did. John didn’t want to catch the attention from the guys in the front seat: They would tease Carl for weeks, if they knew. Clenched. And relaxed. ’Carl, wake up. Wake up.’, John whispered, and shook him carefully. ’Wake…’ The clenching felt good. Carl had cupped his hand over John’s dickhead. Carl didn’t awake, in spite of Johns silent attempts to wake him. Clenched. And relaxed. They passed by another village. Street lamps revealed a smile on Carl’s face, the blond stubble on his hair glistening like gold in the electric light. And then the car rushed into the night again. A pleasant darkness. Clenched. And relaxed. John’s bloodstream was filled with warm honey, running slowly and exquisitely through his system. Clenched. And relaxed. His dick felt like steel now. Clenched. The warm presence of Carl so close to him. Silky but synthetic. And camo. And relaxed. Reliable. Tough. Kind. Clenched. Loyal and masculine. And relaxed. His invincible friend. Doing this. Clenched. And relaxed. A mist of dark red pleasure floated inside his eyes. Floated. Slowly and exquisitely. Mist. Of a thundercloud. Rushing. Through him. Through his muscles. Feeling big. Hard. Best friend. Thunderbolt. Mist. Rushing. Through him. Smile. Stubble. Close. Thunderbolt mist. Rushing. Now – pure pleasure. It wasn’t aware of it’s existence now. It was. Only. The. Pleasure. Only. The. Pleasure. Only. The. Only. Only. Only. Onl… Clenched. * * * Carl and John had had their ’little chat’ with Peter a few days before, Carl hesitatingly, and John well aware of what Aram and himself had agreed upon. If reality could change, persons could too. Carl had probably been a little bit too harsh, but John had focussed on reason: A few years after arrival, refugees pays tax. Financial argument against refugee policy are therefore without foundation. Freedom of religion is something good: Would you like to be forced to practice something against your will, yourself? No? Then don’t do it to anyone else. Food? Is it really a good idea to decide what anyone else would eat? Do you really like fermented herring yourself? No? You hate the stench? So do I. Why would you then like to dictate that anyone else’s dinner tables should be stuck in the 1890’s or 1920’s? Only upper class eating sushi? I wouldn’t call my cousin upper class: She assists elderly people in their homes. Do you eat pizza? Yes? You know that pizza isn’t indigenous food in Northern Europe, eh? Want to retain a good system of social security? But why then argue for a right wing party? You know that they side with the big companies against workers’ rights, don’t you? Not a commie bastard? If you don’t like the bunch of people Carl hang around with, it’s fine, though they are not exactly commies either. Make up your own mind. There are more answers to these things than two. There are a lot of political parties in the centre, if you prefer that. Most of them are in favour of a well-functioning social security. Your grandfather vote Labour? Then I suggest that you have a chat with your grandfather about this. Wouldn’t that be a good idea? Thought so. Peter looked tired after the conversation. Carl and John had seen smugness or angry sullenness before, but the present sad expression on Peter’s face had none of them seen, and there was something puppy-like about his eyes. Carl handed him a low-carb soda. Peter and his mother lived in a flat consisting of three rooms, all of them considerably smaller than what Carl and John were used to in the younger and recently renovated part of the area. Old-fashioned containers for salt, sugar, meal and oats hung under the dressers, and John noticed to his surprise that the flat lacked a dishwasher. Although cigarette-smoking was falling out of fashion, it was obvious that Peter’s absent Mum was a smoker, which was a pity, since the living room with the old TV could have been quite nice otherwise, with an old fashioned parquet floor and shelves with framed photographs of relatives. Unlike Carl, Peter didn’t have a TV in his bedroom. It didn’t take too long to convince Peter that some of his former views were wrong, although some of the changes probably didn’t go more than skin deep, initially. He had proved that he was able to take sides with Aram, and he was childishly enthusiastic about being instructed by John at the gym. Carl had sadistically ripped away the Confederate flag from Peter’s denim jacket, and the rectangular spot didn’t look impressive, but the weather forced Peter to wear a warmer (rather humdrum) jacket anyhow. The temperature outdoors was burning cold, and it hurt in their cheeks when they returned indoors. * * * Aram arrived late to the gym. ’Sorry. I had to spend some time with Emelie. She was upset. Did you see Emma’s bruise earlier today? No? Anderson had beat her yesterday, and Emelie tried to persuade Emma to leave him, but Emma is stubborn. What a nasty piece of work Anderson is: Disagreeable and nefarious!’ Peter looked on the floor, already dressed for workout, but in cheaper equipment than John and Carl. ’You are much better than me with words’, John said, froze, and stared at Aram silently. Aram stared back. ’Than I am’, Aram answered with some hesitation. ’What is it?’, asked Carl, but John and Aram changed subject. Fifteen minutes later, they stood at the cable stand. ’You have probably seen people train their pecs with cable handles up here, but if you lower these, your chest will actually have to work much harder to press the handles together, especially if you don’t bend your arms.’ ’Yes… Uh. Nrrrgh. Definitely much more resistance…’, Aram noticed, red in his face. ’Seven. Eight. Nine. Uh.’ ’But it doesn't feel like usual. I miss something.’, Carl remarked a minute later. ’The idea is’, John explained, ’to let this part work harder.’ John pressed his fingers on the insides of Carls now very hardworking pecs. He then put his fingers in Carl’s armpits, and nodded in the direction of the dumbbell press. ’These parts of the muscles will get their share of the workout in the next exercise over there.’ Carl shouted, and dropped the cable handles with a noise. ’I am ticklish. Never do that again’, Carl said, and disappeared towards the locker room. * * * The winter night shrouded the slopes and the flats in darkness, but the crusty snow on the lawns reflected the light from the street lamps and the moon. The caretakers had obviously spread another amount of salt during the preceding day, since the ice had melted on the pathway, and the moist asphalt surface peeked out from the surrounding snow, like a snake with black scales. Peter had left them in the older corner of the area as usual, and the other two had left Aram by the stairs to his family’s flat. Aram watched the white clouds of his own breath, watched the sky, noticed the upcoming conjunction between two planets he had read about in a scientific magazine, and went indoors, the bag on his shoulder. His mother was not at home: Probably giving an introductory language course to newly arrived Syrian refugees. His sister probably visited friends. He warmed some chicken in the oven and some lentils in the microwave oven, and ate absentmindedly in the kitchen, before returning to his room. He had just opened the computer file of a composition about mithocondriae, when something strange struck him. He felt dizzy and exhilarated. It felt like reality circled around him for a second, he felt a rush of information streaming inside his head, and he found himself in a state of analytical clarity beyond what he had longed for. He was sure he hadn’t understood all these mathematical proofs just a minute ago, but he could also remember how he gradually had achieved this insight for several years. He looked at the candle from Madame Cremorna’s. Burnt out and empty of wax since several weeks. He sat silent for a long time, trying to regain composure, went out to the kitchen for some tea. Holding the warm jug of tea between his hands, he took an educated guess about what probably had happened. It was probably a good idea to wait a few minutes before calling John on the phone. * * * ’Carl. There is something I want to talk to you about, but we haven’t had a good chance until now.’ They sat in John’s room. John sat on his adjustable chair. Carl sat on John’s bed. It was the sort of week when John’s mother worked night at the home for the aged, and John’s father was away playing floorball with workmates after work. ’Sure. Something political? Something about music?’ ’No. No, nothing like that. Eh. Uhm. Something strange happened when we were on our way home from that concert.’ ’Nothing I noticed. I slept all the way home. Didn’t wake up until the car stopped in the parking lot.’ ’You didn’t dream something strange?’ ’Can’t say that I did. Not something I remember anyway.’ John fell silent. Then he took the matchbox, and lit the novena candle in the window. It was Tuesday, after all. Within a minute the scent from the oil mixed with the candlewax was noticeable in the room. ’I want to tell you a secret. Aram bought that candle to me last autumn. You know: The church his family belongs to is into saints and things. The idea is that it will bring… Bring good luck, in a way.’ ’You know that I am as agnostic as you are. There is no way to prove the supernatural, neither a way to disprove it. It’s just meaningless. I’m not like the hardcore Atheists, ranting about sky fairies and spaghetti monsters, but whatever may or may not exist – if something supernatural exist, it will be so complicated that no human book would be able to describe that something, so I prefer to relax and not spend time on the subject. There’s a world out there to make better. I'm not a bloody hippie.’ John picked a book from his thinly populated bookshelf. He waved with it before Carl: Bodybuilding: A Handbook. ’May I discuss some of today’s exercises?’ ’Sure. Why not?’ John sat down beside Carl at the bed, and began to explain. He was probably ten minutes into the discussion, when he felt a strange heat inside. He rose and opened the window. ’What are you doing? It’s bloody cold outside. Don’t let that cold air inside.’ John closed the window again. The flame of the candle flickered. John could see that there wasn’t much candlewax left. He returned to the bed. ’I feel funny. Don’t you feel the heat?’ ’Heat? The windows’ got good insulation, and the radiators are working, but you can’t call this heat. What’s the matter? Do you feel ill?’ A worried expression John hadn’t seen before spread over Carl’s face. John reclined on the bed, with Carl sitting close to his knees. ’It feels better now. But it still feels funny. In a good way.’ A pleasant feeling filled his back, and continued to spread. ’Mmm. In a really good way.’ The feeling filled his traps, and continued to his pecs. ’Are you okey?’ ’Mmm. Oh. Umm. Yes, I’m okey. It…’ The feeling changed into a burning feeling in his abs, and he felt how a strange but pleasant feeling of hardness filled his shoulders and his quads. ’Oh. Carl. Do you see it, or is it just my imagination?’ ’See what?’ It now filled him entirely, from the stubble on his head to his fingers and toes. It was different from the subtle changes at the other times, it was… ’John. I can’t believe this. It looks like you are growing.’ John moaned, and then arched with a short scream. He tensed his biceps, and felt how he tensed his pecs. The fabric of his t-shirt couldn’t take the strain anymore. With a ripping sound, Johns growing biceps split the short sleeves of the shirt apart, while his growing shoulders and neck tore asunder the rest of the shirt. ’It’s bloody unbelievable, John. It’s like a frigging dream. Do you feel alright?’ ’So good… So good… Yes. Yes. It’s happening.’ The flame of the candle flickered, consumed the last remains of the oily wax, and went out with a silent puff. ’IT’S HAPPENING!!!’ John felt how his body convulsed in a pleasant way. ’Uhnnn. Uhnnn. Oh yes… Uhnnn. More!’ Carl was rigid with fear. And something else. Then, he reached out his hand towards John’s chest, and touched John’s growing left pec. With a sigh and a smile, John’s growing right arm grabbed Carl around his waist, and let Carl fall with his face on John’s pecs. A few seconds he struggled, and then relaxed. John could feel a kiss on his left pec. John let his left hand caress the stubble on the backside of Carl’s head. John could hear Carl mumble: ’I’m fucking dreaming. This is unreal.’ ’If it is a dream, you are free to do whatever you would like to do in a dream’, John answered, but whatever he had tried to say was abruptly cut off by another wave of growth. He moaned and groaned of pleasure. ’Oh, yeah. Grow for me mate. My best friend becoming a bruiser… Oh. This is so good. These mountains of power…’ Carl sat on John’s groin, touching John’s biceps with his hands. ’Oooh.’ Carl leaned forward and kissed John’s right bicep, and then licked it. ’Oooh. It’s still growing. You are still… Oh. This is so good.’ John felt how he became hard down there too. Carl must have noticed. He slide from the bed, removed his shirt and trousers, and then began to remove John’s trousers, but they were stuck on John’s large and still growing calves. ’Oooh. Uhn. Mmmm. Yes.’, John deliriously exclaimed. Carl gave up his attempt to remove John’s trousers, and directed his concentration on John’s shoulders, grabbing one with each hand, whimpering lustfully at the touch. ’Oh. My buddy, the warrior. My mate, the hero. My friend, the… the war god. This is so bloody good. So fucking unreal. So, ummm.’ John’s mobile phone rang, but they were both too excited to notice. Carl’s steel hard rod, although still decked by pants, had touched John’s bulging and steel hard abs, and he shivered at the sensation. Another lustful whimpering escaped his mouth. John could feel Carl rubbing his groin against John’s abs, and it felt good. He was able to drive his friend crazy of admiration. Another wave filled him. He bellowed, and distantly felt how his calves split the seams of his trousers, releasing him from any restraining clothes. His dick found its way between Carl’s thighs. Carl moaned. John looked up on Carl, smiled and tensed both his biceps. Carl held his breath, and something began to pulsate wildly inside Carl’s pants. Again. And again. And again. The last stages of John’s transformation were still going on, when Carl regained the similitude of awareness of his surroundings. Veins began to cover John’s chest, legs and biceps, and all muscles protruded well-defined in a manner suitable for the best junior bodybuilders. A blissful smile was upon John’s face, his eyes closed. He breathed quickly. Carl readjusted his position, and sat between John’s knees, grabbed John’s rod with his right hand, and pulled it a few times. It didn’t need much encouragement, until it ecstatically exploded in his grip, and pulsated in a powerful ultra-masculine way between his fingers and his palm. In a voice, deeper than before, John asked Carl: ’Why didn’t you tell me before?’ * * * Chapter Four is here, but doesn't contain any growth: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13032-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-four/