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  1. Previous chapter: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster Chapter 16: Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After Casey’s first workout demonstration for The Nineteen that afternoon promised to be brutal – and awesome - as he had hoped it would be. He knew he would love every moment of it. He knew it would almost make up for the confusion and fear he had felt the night before. He would be as strong as a god, sailing through every lift, every rep, every set with strength he didn’t know he had. Almost make up for it. Not quite. But maybe afterwards, he could pose for them? Just a little? In the locker room, alone, and about to go before these crazy huge guys once again, he ruminated. He was, if he admitted it to himself, not a little leery about these guys. After all, he had a big black eye. And just about 12 hours ago, thick, creamy jets of cum had shot from18 firehose cocks and plopped down on him while he lay tangled in a sweaty muscle mass mess with Karim Abdul, both of them with swelling black eyes and bloody noses. Kind of a strange introduction to the world of supreme muscle he had been looking forward to for two years – and had been fantasizing about for far longer. “I wonder what Miles would say,” he thought to himself. He had glanced at his black eye in the mirror in the locker room. It was fully open, not bloodshot, just rimmed with black and blue. Not too bad. Actually, it looked fucking hot. He quickly did a side chest. Bam. Nips high. Rivers of striations. Yeah. Lookin good. He was hot. He knew it, too. Or, rather, was beginning to know it. He found his old sweats, thoughtfully hanging up and waiting for him in a large locker with his name on it, which he assumed was his. He noted that the lockers themselves were almost like storage units, not the shameful, small individual skinny things most gyms had. He looked up, slightly startled. Musclemen Gunst and Obatu were suddenly there at the end of the locker row, waiting for them. At first he barely noticed what they were wearing. But then he saw. “What the fuck?” “You ready?” “Uh. Yeah.” “Let’s go, then.” He stripped down fast, found his old jock in the locker, and grabbing his huge cock and balls, shoveled his heavy machine into the pouch. As always, it sagged heavily, groaning softly from the weight of his manhood. He glanced down the row. Gunst and Obatu were blankfaced. Casey threw his sweats on. “Now?” “…..yeah.” Casey slammed the door and waddled towards them, throwing a bathsheet towel over his broad shoulders. “Let’s go lift.” Gunst and Obatu brought Casey onto the workout floor. All of the musclemen in the squad were in attendance, naturally wanting to see how much weight the pretty muscle boy Casey could handle. After all, he may be huge, and all realized he was pretty fucking strong in the ring. He could move fast, and his mandatory poses last night were impressive. But could the dude lift? Could he train?? Dr. Irving stood by with the video camera, fussily taking his precise notes. And Zaftig was there, of course, hanging back, saying nothing, just watching, watching. And now, at least, Casey could remember the dude’s name. Dr. Zaftig. After all, this was the dude who was going to make him huge. He nodded shyly to him. “Good afternoon, Dr. Zaftig.” “Good afternoon, Casey. Welcome to Valhalla.” “Thank you…” “Let’s get going, Casey,” said Sergeant Moster. “You’re keeping us waiting. Again.” “I’m sorry,” Casey said. Moster frowned. No signs of reaction to all the White Caps swimming around in his bloodstream. There were, inevitably, more moments of muscle awkwardness to be had first. First off, Casey was entirely unprepared for the men’s workout gear. His usual workout clothes fully covered him, a ripped and worn outfit of dirty, sweaty baggies, a sloppy oversized sweatshirt that seemed to have been made for a man of 600 pounds, and full-length sweatpants, ragged and much the worse for wear. Even in these baggies, his bulge loomed heavily, swaying from side to side as he came onto the floor. Moster had changed into his full-dress spotlessly clean green uniform slacks, boots, and a skin-tight regulation t-shirt. His mammoth black muscles gleamed with ferocious power, and his crisp, clinging t-shirt outlined every peak, valley, cut, bulge, thick vein and crevice of his astonishing physique. Casey tried not to stare at him. He was oddly drawn to this black mountain of muscle. “I wanna be as big as you someday,” he said softly to himself. The squad, on the other hand, he nervously noted, were all dressed in White Cap Night Valhalla regulation gym gear: ripped, torn and ragged wife-beaters with muscles bulging every which way. Dripping sweat, muscles red and inflamed, their workouts over. No shorts, Army boots, heavy cable socks, and sweaty, swollen, looming Army-green mesh jocks. Bulging packages protruded, looming cocks, also swaying heavily with each muscleman movement, all around the gym floor. “This is how you guys dress to work out?” asked Casey timidly. Okay, so it was still weird. His question was ignored. There was a lot of barely sheathed bulging heavy duty muscleman dick on this gym floor. His own was more modestly covered. If just as bulging. And just as evident. And no one’s on the floor appeared to be as big as Moster’s. Once again he stared for a moment at the man’s obviously huge, looming penis, outlined clearly in his green trousers. He could see the penis corona, even the deep piss slit through the thick dark khaki fabric. Moster sure wasn’t ashamed of his cock. So maybe Casey shouldn’t be ashamed, either. And what Casey couldn’t know is that the men, just having finished their workouts, were delaying their shower sports. White Caps racing in their bloodstreams. And holding back. Not 10 minutes before Moster had sternly separated Blankenship and Lang from some foreplay, giving each man a quick spanking on their bare bottoms before all the other men. Afterward Alvarez pulled Lang back and eyed him dangerously. There would be words between them tonight. Lang was staring at the floor. Blankenship, of course, was grinning. Toothlessly. “How about starting off with some incline flyes?” said Moster. “You need a warm-up set?” “I wanna stretch first,” said Casey. Miles had always taught him the necessity of proper technique. Light warm-ups were part of that, though once he actually started lifting, what constituted a warm-up for Casey might be a final blasted set for another man. “Always smart.” The men stood watching Casey intently. “Don’t you guys wanna go workout somewhere?” he blurted out. “We’re done,” said Alvarez. “We’re waiting for you.” Abdul was staring at him with undisguised hatred. Tiffany was smiling sweetly, butter not melting in his mouth. Schumacher was blank-faced, and all the scarier for it. The others were intent, if blank-faced. Even Hension, whose thoughts were usually betrayed on his handsome face, wasn’t reacting much. He just was staring. They were all staring. Casey shuffled off to a corner of the Marley mat and began his stretch routine, arms swinging, legs kicking, gentle but firm. The men watched him. “He’s bow-legged!” whispered Hension. Loudly. “Yes, we see that,” said Alvarez, mocking the whisper. “I think that’s so hot….!” Casey heard a resounding smack! echoing through the room. “Ow!” Someone had hit Hension again. Casey, his face turned away, had to smile. Apparently the pretty boy got hit a lot. “Um. This takes 20 minutes,” Casey said. Suddenly he didn’t care what they thought. He was going to stretch. He started torso turns, his hands behind his head. Moster spoke. “Casey, we don’t have all day.” Casey turned back to him and repeated himself firmly. “This takes 20 minutes. I stretch for 20 minutes. If you don’t want to watch, don’t.” And he turned back, cupping his big hands together, continuing his torso turns. Moster smiled slightly. Good. The White Caps had obviously kicked in after all. It seems Casey required more White Caps for an effect, and the societal restrictions weren’t so easily abandoned. But the boy was asserting himself, and quite naturally. Zaftig was suddenly next to Moster. “He’s not so easily bullied,” he whispered. “Not like your other men. You won’t have your way with him so easily.” “You don’t think so?” “No, I don’t.” “Well, we’ll see, then, won’t we?” Zaftig frowned. Clearly, Moster wasn’t concerned about Casey digging in his heels at his first workout, doing it his way, defying the Sergeant. “What do you know?” Zaftig hissed at Moster. Moster, never taking his eyes off the teen muscle giant now doing rapid pushups, turned to Zaftig, laid his cards on the table. “The kid has never been worshipped before. He wants it, he needs it. He needs someone to tell him how amazing he is. And he needs musclesex. Badly. He doesn’t know how much.” “I see. It’s your musclesex thing again. Goddammit, Sergeant. This project is about youth and strength and creating the most fearsome army the planet has ever seen. It’s not about sex. It never was. It was about creating the perfect physical specimen. The most extraordinary physiques the world has ever known.” Moster smiled sardonically. “You’ve forgotten, Dr. Zaftig, or perhaps you never knew. Even when you were a young man. Were you ever young?” Zaftig smiled. “Amazing to consider, isn’t it?” Moster continued. “Everything for men is about sex. And bodybuilders? Even more so. And for these bodybuilders? All that times about 200. 500. All these guys want is to be admired. Worshipped. Sucked off. Felt up. Fuck. And, I might add, get fucked. Train, lift, eat, sleep, shit, fight, suck, get sucked, fuck, train some more, fight some more, fuck some more, suck some more, eat, shit, sleep. And,” he added sweetly, “…that’s about it.” “Fuck you, Sergeant.” But now Zaftig was smiling. He knew there was more to it. Wasn’t there? Moster sighed. “I’m sorry, Dr. Zaftig. But that’s what you’ve created here. Millions of dollars poured into fucking machines. But look at the bright side.” He leaned in. “It’s going to make you millions, as well. All of us.” “I already have millions. I don’t care.” “Well, I don’t, and I do.” “By the way, how did the boy get that black eye?” “Looks pretty hot, don’t it?” “Less than 24 hours in the compound and already someone’s slugged him.” “Don’t look too closely at Abdul or Blankenship.” Zaftig glanced over at Abdul, sporting a shiner of his own, and noted the missing teeth of the blond bomber beauty Blankenship. Zaftig groaned inwardly. Another trip to the dentist. He hated having to take the men off the mountain. But there was a dentist in San Jose who fixed up the men regularly, regular hygiene, capping, replaced teeth, crowns, implants, the works, and charged nothing, content merely with big biceps flexed in his face while he sat in the chair playing with his tiny dentist dick. Then, Moster to Casey, “You about done there, boy?” “No, sir.” “All right, then.” The men were getting restless, shifting from foot to foot, now staring at Zaftig and the ever-cool Moster. Alvarez was the only man on the squad who seemed calm and in control of himself. A fact not unnoticed by Moster. Or Casey, for that matter, now secretly watching all this play out for himself. He was beginning to catch on that there was even more to these big dudes than just training, taking this crazy drug, and spanking their monkeys. “Men, time for some biceps curls,” Moster announced. “All of you go do 15 sets of light reps. 25 reps per set per arm. No ball busting, now. Get to it. No more than 25 pounds. I mean it.” He turned back and smiled at Casey. “We’ll wait until The Boy is ready.” Okay, so he was The Boy again. Zaftig wasn’t done. “In a few months the Joint Chiefs will be here for review. I want Casey ready and I want the men at their sharpest, and no funny business. Intensify their training.” He turned away. “You leaving?” Zaftig turned back. “Hell, no” he smiled. “I want to see my latest boy wipe your men all over the floor. Maybe you’ll listen to me then.” Moster nodded. Inwardly he had to admit he respected Zaftig deeply. The man may have been a puny genius with no body, but he wasn’t dishonest, and he was clearly unafraid of Moster. He had no personal need for muscle worship, and never bothered the men. He was, at the end of the day, a partner Moster could trust, if never take advantage of. He admired that. Moreover, Zaftig had never indicated another other than scientific curiosity about Moster’s treetrunk tool. That was a plus on his side, too. Moster turned to Casey and called out. “Okay, you’re done,” he said, brooking no denial. “What’s your starting weight for inclines?” “Um…..180?” Hension, 20 feet away and now doing the ordered biceps curls, stared at Casey. “Damn!” he squeaked. He put the dumbbell down and scratched his barely covered balls. “180?? To start?” Casey looked away, trying not to notice. That boy certainly was pretty. A perfect face. Without realizing it, Casey licked his lips, staring a little at Hension, who, gawking at the muscle monster, inadvertently smiled back, absently scratching his balls. The exchange did not go unnoticed. Lang nudged Alvarez, who nodded sagely. “180 it is. Let’s see what you got.” Moster strode to the bench, grabbed two 180-pound dumbbells as if they were sacks of feathers, and handed them to Casey. Casey took them without a blink, two sacks of feathers. And so the workout began. One by one, the men re-racked their light weights, approached the bench where the giant Casey lay, ready to lift. Casey’s perfect technique was evident from the start. He smoothly lowered his huge bulk onto an incline bench. He raised his arms into position, the two dumbbells easily held aloft overhead. In no time he reeled off twenty reps of perfectly calibrated incline flyes, then peeling off into overhead presses, gently touching the dumbbells one another, then down to the tips of his big brown nipples, outlined in his oversized sweats. His chest bloomed, rivers of sweaty muscle flowed, the pumped pecs seemed to reach to the ceiling as he pumped. “Pow, pow, pow, pow,” he breathed to himself with each rep. Light stains of pec milk appeared on his sweats. “Wow….” breathed Hension. “Do you see that??” “What’s next?” “Do it again.” “Okay.” He reeled off another set. The men watched him stonily, now all gathered around the bench. More pec milk appeared. “Now?” “Do another.” “Sure.” He did another set. Finishing, he clanged the weights to the floor. “Can I work with something heavy now?” Moster smiled. The White Caps had taken effect. He shot a look over at Zaftig, who merely raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Certainly, boy. Take it to 220.” So he was still Boy. “Anyone have gloves?” “Sure, Case!” Lang reached into his bag and tossed a pair to Casey. Casey smiled a little, hearing Lang call him by the same nickname the cadets down the mountain did. “Thanks.” He caught the gloves and slipped them on. Everyone was watching now. The red light of the video cam continued to blink. Standing next to Lang, Alvarez was blank-faced, but not unapproving. In the corner, Dr. Zaftig now had his head tilted back, musing. This boy will go the limit, he thought. No matter what Moster says about what the men really want. This boy is different. He’s pure muscle, and nothing else. No, that was not right. He was muscle, cock, and butt. This boy would be worth millions. And very, very soon. An uncommon sex machine of the first power. Innocent Casey, unaware of the plans being made around him, rose, took the two 180 pound dumbbells, and re-racked them, two sacks of feathers back to the their featherbed. He strode down the line and grabbed two 220s, returned to the incline, lowered his bulk, and reeled off another set of 20 reps, grunting loudly and blowing out air with each rep. More milk flecks appeared on his shirt. He blew sweat and spit, began to groan mightily. “ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh….” When he was finished he set the dumbbells down gently on the marley floor, and looked up at Moster. Absently he wiped the milk away from his nipples with thumb and forefinger. “Nicely done, boy,” said Moster. He spoke loudly to the group. “Notice that Casey does not drop the weights.” He looked pointedly at Jin, who was famous for throwing the weights to the floor after the punishing final set of any lift he did, excepting squats – where he re-racked as noisily as possible, all while screaming. Jin looked back, defiant. “Why do you do it that way, boy?” Casey shrugged. “Way that Miles taught me, I guess. It’s harder.” “Miles?” “Miles Donovan, Raw Weight Gym.” So that was it, thought Gunst. Miles Donovan. He should have known. Donovan was a biceps freak, and hosted many others in his gym, taking their pay-offs for private posing from men who liked to blast big guns in the faces of the hapless, endlessly paying schmoes. No doubt Casey had been a major revenue stream for the notorious Donovan gym, he reasoned to himself. Of course he had to have huge guns. Miles would have seen to it. Blankenship grinned, a front tooth missing and looking all the hotter for it. “Yeah, makes sense, he came from that old horn dog Donovan’s gym. You worked out on the 3rd floor yet?” Casey looked at Blankenship a little blankly. “Um. No.” Obatu spoke up. “Casey is still too young and green for the 3rd floor. Besides, he has been training at the cadet gym down the mountain for the last several months. Haven’t you, Casey?” “Yeah, I guess. What’s next?” “You flat bench?” “Sure. How much weight?” “Let’s see what you can do.” The squad backed away a little as Casey, gripping each elbow and stretching his arms over his head, walked towards a row of flat benches. Gunst despaired a little. He was wrong. Casey wasn’t posing and being paid for it at Donovan’s. Which meant he’d built those mountainous biceps on his own. “Lose the shirt!” squawked Hension. “I want to see your nips milk!” “’Kay,” said Casey. He stopped, slipping out of his sweatshirt, folding it up carefully. Underneath he wore a baggy green t-shirt, which may probably have been at one time a pup tent. “My nipples always make a little milk when I train,” he explained. “See?” He reached under his soaked t-shirt to a nipple, gathered some white liquid, held out a finger dripping with milk droplets. “But it looks like I’m making a little more today.” In spite of himself, Moster was touched by Casey’s innocent neatness with his sweatshirt. And his explanation. “T-shirt too,” said Waring. “Not yet,” said Casey. Moster’s eyebrow raised a little. He glanced over at Zaftig, who nodded. Good. Good. It was all good. The White Caps were claiming his ego. Casey was showing signs he could stand up on his own. “Load up a starting weight of 360 pounds,” directed Moster. “You can handle 300, can’t you, Casey?” “Sure, easy.” Casey laid his bulk down on the flat bench while Waring and Lang placed eight 45-pound plates on either end of the bar. He began to suck in air in preparation. “Hey, can someone wrap my elbows?” he suddenly asked. “Sure. Washington, grab some heavy wraps for Cadet Rockland. Get to it. The man has to lift.” He lifted the bar off the bench and began to bench, pumping his enormous pecs. Now he was working his hardest. He was now more determined than ever to fit in with these huge men. He was going to show them now. The workout continued. Flat bench, declines, more flyes. All pecs stuff. More milk. Throughout the workout Hension, Lang, Jin, Bogarde, Washington, Meyer, Waring, Duncan, Chad, and Corporal Blankenship were cheerful and approving. They howled their encouragement and counted the reps. “10! 11! 12! 13! 14! 15!" Throw the weights, Casey!” "Okay to throw them?" Casey asked Moster, holding 600 pounds aloft, just about to bring it down to his milky nipples. He was calm. "If the men want. This time. Throw it when you're done." "Okay." He finished pumping, and instead of reracking... Clang! Casey threw the weight on the floor, sat up, grabbed the plastic bottle and chugged a half-gallon of water. Water poured from the side of his mouth onto his shirt. The men whooped and hollered. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and strode forcefully to the next weight. Immediately the men were counting again. “10! 11! 12! 13! 14! 15!” Clang! Wipe. “YEAHHHH….!” And on it went for 45 minutes of grueling, punishing lifting. Corporals Schumacher, Obatu, LeFevre, and Alvarez and Private McIntyre seemed more reserved. Corporal Abdul just grunted. But he was impressed, in spite of himself. The boy was training harder than he had ever seen. His muscles were blooming, seeming to grow as he watched. Gunst was quiet and watchful. Zaftig was beaming with professional pride. Moster remained aloof and keenly observant. And all the while, Dr. Irving followed every move with the video cam. The cocksure little Private Joe Tiffany cheered him on just as loudly. Casey pretended not to see the evil glint in the muscleboy’s eyes, but he couldn’t help it. He’d learned at the Home how to read signals. The Home…..hmmm. A memory appeared dimly, and, just as quickly, was gone. While resting between two punishing sets, Casey was still silently agog at the size of Moster’s muscles. Occasionally he found himself staring at the improbably large mound resting atop his CO’s left quad. The tip of the mound reached to just above the giant’s knee. He noted the other men seemed to be avoiding looking directly at Moster’s leg. Even though they all seemed to be sporting packages of similar size. Damn, their dicks are big, Casey thought. Are they real? And deep inside Casey, a little voice proudly squeaked…..”Wait until they see MINE…” Then he remembered – …..oh yeah.... They’d already seen it. And he had seen theirs, too. Sorta. Between his half-closed black eye. His hand went up, and he rubbed the black eye. Looked at Abdul, and his black eye. Adbul was smiling a little now. Not friendly, but hard - but still, a smile. Casey grinned wearily as he finally finished up with the last set of triceps pulldowns. Private Meyer, a big toothy grinning lighting up his handsome, beaming face, burst forward from the group, and pumped the newcomer’s hand. “Thanks,” said Casey. Meyer nodded enthusiastically. “He can’t hear you,” said Private Waring. Casey looked at Meyer, stricken for having forgotten that Meyer was a deaf mute. “It’s okay, he doesn’t mind.” Casey, touched, shook Meyer’s hand vigorously. Meyer shook his head cheerfully, touching his lips, and shrugged his shoulders to show that indeed he didn’t care that he couldn’t speak. Then he stepped back and proudly flexed his own powerful, round right biceps, smacking them with his left hand, and reached down to grab Casey’s wrists. He pulled his arms up encouragingly and Casey, getting the message, proudly brought his huge guns up and flexed mightily. “Mother fucker!” yelled Lang and Hension simultaneously. The men roared with laughter, and Casey colored a deep red, smiling sheepishly. Alvarez clamped that affectionate paw of his around Lang’s shoulders and hugged him close. But he looked worried. Something was on his mind. Behind them Hension eyed them both steadily, with longing. Meyer kept his hands on Casey’s obliques as if he was rotating his upper body for all to see. “It’s okay, plebe,” said Jin, laughing. “You’ll get to know us all.” While all through the devastating workout he had been stronger than he could ever remember, now he felt – well, almost frail – as if something, suddenly, was missing. “All right, men,” said Moster calmly. “Rec room in 15 minutes. Casey, shower up.” “Yes, sir.” “Men, file out. Casey, come here a moment first.” He glanced at the men, who leaned in, curious as to what Moster might be saying. “Well, Cadet Casey, it looks as if you’ve made it.” Moster spoke quietly. Casey looked up at him, and grinned wearily. “Thanks, Sergeant Moster.” The men gave him a round of applause, Casey noted that even Corporal Schumacher seemed to approve. He lowered his head, modestly grateful. Then Moster turned back to the group. They were still applauding. Casey was embarrassed, turning to go. He didn’t see Moster’s stone face shift into a slight smile. “Men, get dressed. Shower up. No play time. Get to it. I expect you all in uniform, neat and clean, in the rec room, in 10 minutes. Hop to it. Get a move on.” Then, to Casey, “Casey, use my private locker room to shower.” He pointed to a door across the floor. “You’ll find clean sweats in there. They’ll fit. Grab them after you shower. And no jerking off, boy.” Casey, embarrassed that Moster seemed to be reading his mind, nodded dumbly and headed to the door. He was worried again. He had only masturbated once today so far, and on a day like today, he needed a lot more….especially after that worship session with the cadets this morning. He was discovering….something….and his huge cock wanted to know more. But he went, dutifully, into the private locker room, showered, and changed into the clean sweats he found there. Before he left, he checked his guns and his pecs in the full length mirror. Flexing, he breathed to himself. “Damn. I’m fucking awesome.” And with the capsules still not in apparent full-force effect, dressed in baggy trunks and a clean, white light tee, he stumbled his way to the rec room. For what, he couldn’t tell. Probably more weirdness. But now, he was ready. Dr. Irving was there ahead of them all. He had set up chairs for all the bodybuilders in a semi-circle, with the inevitable video cam set up. There was a chair in the center, obviously meant for him. He glanced over at Moster, who nodded and gestured towards the chair. Casey waddled with his bodybuilder’s walk towards it slowly and sat. He looked around with anticipation. “So now what?” he asked. Zaftig took Moster aside. “This boy is gentle. We don’t want to break his spirit. He’s had a tough time and he just wants to make friends. Go easy on him.” Moster’s shoulders stiffened. The veins in his neck popped a little. He looked Zaftig dead in the eye, and said, “Being sweet to him now will kill him later. Is that what you want?” “No.” “Then let me handle it. I know what is best.” “Did you at least give him a capsule?” “Sure,” answered Moster. “He’ll be just fine.” “Doesn’t seem to have taken effect yet.” “He’s a big boy. Blood volume and all. It takes time.” “Fuck you, Moster.” Moster’s eyebrows raised slightly, but he knew not to protest. Zaftig was properly proud of his discovery. “You know fucking well that White Caps P-21 take effect immediately regardless of ‘blood volume’, if you want to put it that way.” “Dr. Zaftig, it’s my turn now.” “It’s always your turn.” Zaftig turned on his heel and left the rec room without further comment. Moster watched him go. The men were sitting impatiently. “All right, men. Let’s get to it.” He turned to Casey. “All right, Casey. Welcome. You’re one of the group now. We’re now….The Twenty.” “Yeah, baby!” “Bout fucking time.” “Tell him what that really means….” said Alvarez. “Spank him!” yelled Hension, and then, before Chad, sitting next to him, could swat him, he said, “Don’t you fucking hit me!” Chad did anyway. “Ow!” yelled Hension. Casey chuckled. “That’s gotta hurt. These dudes seem to hit you a lot.” “You will too, in time,” said Waring. “What did …he….”….um…” “Alvarez,” said Alvarez. “What did Alvarez – sorry – mean – when he said “tell him what that really means?” Silence. Casey continued. “I mean, what does it mean to be one of The Twenty?” Moster smiled. “Yes, let’s talk about that, Casey. Men, why don’t we show Casey what it’s all about?” Then he paused a moment. Casey wasn't reacting. He was just sitting quietly, albeit with great body tension. His muscles were hugely pumped, and Moster could see the fabric shifting as Casey's enormous cock began to uncoil in his sweats. Soon he would be hard. But the boy wasn't moving. Odd. Quietly, he asked, leaning in, “Casey, level with me.” He looked the teen in the eye. Casey couldn’t look away. Inwardly he was stammering. He was looking at Moster's crotch. “No, look me in the eye. Look up. Not down there. Up. How many White Caps have you taken?” “White Caps?” “The capsules. The pills. How many?” He gazed at him levelly. A pause. “Four, I think. Five?” He shrugged, weakly. "i don't remember." "Where did you get them? I gave you one...." "Uh..." Casey didn't want to indict the men on his first day. Weirdness notwithstanding. “Never mind. I can guess." Moster looked back at the group, all standing still, attentive, neatly dressed in their uniforms. And every cock seeming at attention, poling out hugely in their khakis. The men were ready to play. Past ready. Mmmmm. Not much effect on Casey, though, for 5 White Caps. A few moments of assertiveness and a powerful workout, but…..not much. "Are you feeling anything…unusual?” “Well….” Casey paused and looked away. He found himself staring at the men and their looming erections. Jesus. Here it came. Strong societal blockers, Moster thought. "Do you want to have sex? Like now?" No answer. Casey just stared at the cocks in the room. The men were deadly quiet. Then it hit Moster. Of course. “Casey, are you hypoglycemic?” Not so much to his surprise, even the dimwitted Casey knew exactly what that meant. Still staring the the men's rocket crotches, he spoke softly. “......I need oranges or candy bars sometimes.....” “They told you this when you were growing up?” “They told me in the Boys Home. My blood sugar. I have problems.” Of course. That was it. It happened sometimes. He reminded himself he had to mention it to Zaftig. It was the same for Obatu when he first checked in, and then, years later, for Eli Meyer. Since Meyer could neither speak nor hear and his sign language didn't encompass the subject of hypoglycemia, it took them a few days to realize that a cup of chocolate milk worked wonders on the tight glutes of the hot little muscle fuckee Meyer. Give the boy some cocoa and he'd take massive tool after tool up his butt for hours. He called over his shoulder. “Dr. Irving, please step into my office and get an orange. You’ll find a bowl of fruit on my conference table.” He turned back to Casey and smiled a little. “It’ll be just a moment. Then we’ll tell you what The Twenty is all about.” Irving left the room, used to being invisible except when ordered about. Moster stood up, in front of Casey. "It will only be a minute now." The men, behind him, were now pawing the floor like racehorses, ready to rock and roll. Casey, sitting, was now eye-to-crotch to Moster, in front of him. He stared openly at Moster’s enormous bulge in the fly of his uniform khakis, a thick pylon of sheathed cock snaking heavily along the edge of huge quad muscle, and gulped, looking up. Though Moster was the only man in the room without an erection, his penis yet appeared to be the biggest. “Yes, sir,” he stammered. And stared again. His heart was pounding. Moster put a hand on Casey’s beefy shoulder, kneading his fingers slightly into the thick muscle. “Hang on. It won’t be long now.” He turned to the men behind him. “Men? Drop trou.” Zippers unzipped, belts slipped out of belt loops and went to the floor, as the 18 bodybuilders – even Abdul – dropped their uniform slacks to their ankles. Pants down. Around the room. Now all the men were in micro posers. Those massive bulges were unleashed. Looming, heavy, hard, all already pointing straight out. Their cocks almost fully exposed except for the bulging, straining fabric barely covering cockheads. Some of the posers were ready to snap. Casey stared at them all. "Wow...." he breathed. "Men why don't you do some posing for Casey? You've seen his muscles. I don't think he's had the opportunity to see yours." "You, too, Sergeant," said Abdul. Moster looked at him. He paused. "All right, then." He unbuttoned his bulging dress shirt and slipped it off. Casey could almost imagine he could hear the groan of relief of the fabric, suddenly relieved of the need to stretch over the man's massive muscles. But he wasn't prepared for the massive musculature of Moster. Cocks and balls bulged forth, each man spilling half a foot of visible cock into barely sheathed pouches. Casey felt a dribble of precum shooting in his posers. “Arms behind backs!” barked Moster, clearly now the leader of the group. He turned to Casey and became one with his men. The Nineteen placed their hands behind their lower backs. “Spread legs!” All spread their legs wide, shooting their right legs out in choreographed unison. “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 Casey. He fumbled with his crotch a moment. His head was spinning. The lineup of 19 men stood before him, all flexing with massive front double biceps power. The black muscle god brought his arms down strode slowly across the room back to Casey. 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. Dr. Irving returned with the orange. “Chow down on this, Casey,” said Moster as Irving handed it to him wordlessly. "Men, drop the biceps pose." The men relaxed. Hension snickered. "Yeah, chow down, Casey." Then, warning Chad...."Don't you hit me...." “Dr. Irving, would you get back to your camera, please?” Dr. Irving went back to the video cam, checking his clipboard, and began to tape. The men circled around Casey as he took a big bite out of the orange, and then another, and then another. A moment passed. Casey began to flush, a deep crimson red – and then, just as quickly – the flush faded. He looked up at Moster, and smiled. Broadly. “I’m fine now,” he said. “Casey,” asked Moster evenly, “have you ever sucked cock before?” “No, sir.” “Would you like to?” “Yes, sir. I think I would.” Snap! Snap! Gunst's and Blankenship's posers snapped. Their cocks bloomed free, swaying heavily, ready for service. Gunst stepped forward, but Blankenship elbowed him heavily out of the way. Gunst looked at him threateningly, raised his fist, ready to punch face. Moster stood back. "Easy, men. There's time for everyone. Who should he start with?” he asked the group. “I think he starts with ME,” said Abdul, striding forward, his hands on the straps of his bulging posers. The 14 inch shaft was fully exposed, the tendrils of Abdul's thick pubic hair shining in the rec room light. “Fine with me,” Casey said, still smiling. “How do I do this?” “Don’t worry. It’ll come naturally. Just let it happen.” Abdul took his position in front of Casey and pushed out his powerful hips. As Casey leaned in, Abdul roughly cupped the back of the teen’s head, and pulled him in close. "Get to work, boy..." Casey open his mouth. Wide. "Sorry about last night, " he said up to Abdul, who loomed over him, taking his mammoth cock out of his posers and aiming it. "Wider," said Abdul. "Can I pose for you guys later?" Casey asked. "Sure thing!" squeaked Hension. Smack!! "Ow! What did I say??" "I said OPEN WIDER," commanded Abdul. "Sure thing," said Casey. He opened his mouth wider. "Let's go." And so.... it began. **** Want to read "The Twenty" from the start? 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
  2. 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
  3. Chapters 7, 8 Precis so far: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in priapic size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable need to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his growing need to receive both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. Chapter 7: Training Night 1: Good for Morale October 20th, 2021 1900 Hours The gym floor was buzzing with activity. Each man had a 5-gallon aluminum jug of water from which he regularly took enormous gulps, occasionally pausing to drench both himself and his training partners as needed to stave off the effects of the heat. All wore specially designed army green jockstraps. Regulation jocks were hardly adequate for their needs, and all 19 men (and especially Sergeant Moster) required XXX-large custom-fit pouches. Pendulously bulging, sweat, cum, and piss-stained, even these firm-gripping supersized mesh pouches could barely contain the musclemen’s super-sized genitalia. Gently curving cock shafts plunged from heavily veined, thin-skinned pelvic girdles on each man, leading to jaw-breaking cockheads. The jocks hugged the men’s cocks tightly, providing only barely adequate covering. Moster’s policy was that shorts and sweatpants were unnecessarily encumbering. All around the room, as the men moved from weight to weight, their mountainous packages swayed freely back and forth. On most of the men, the top 5 to 6 inches of their veiny cocks were visible, plunging into their over-burdened pouches. The men’s powerful, deeply striated glutes were fully exposed in back. Colorful do-rags, thick cable socks and black army boots completed their attire. On the floor, workout buddies Private Dan Gunst and Private Steve Waring were spotting each other through a sixth set of murderous curls. 24, 6'-10", 375 pounds, blond, huge, sporting a severe crew cut, and with a big nose and oversized hands, Gunst was a decidedly homely muscle giant, packed with imposing hardcore brawn. His bullish traps sloped massively from his 24” neck. The man’s 27-3/4 inch biceps were second only in girth and mass to Sgt. Moster’s, though he hadn’t yet attained the shapely cannonball peaks of Corporals Schumacher, Obatu, Blankenship and Alvarez. At 3.8% bodyfat he tended towards a thin coat of luminous bloat in his 375-pound physique; he was all the same, super-humanly powerful, and during his training sessions the bloat seemed to melt into a latticework of shrink-wrapped vascularity. His partner, the 26-year old Steve Waring, was uncommonly good-looking, if, at a mere 276 pounds of raw muscle, not nearly as big as Gunst. He was, however the far more ripped bodybuilder, having been in the program 2 years longer. His vascularity was astonishing, a complex map of thick, dizzying, zig-zag veins that criss-crossed his magnificent physique. Square-jawed, dimpled and brown-eyed, he always had a neatly groomed 2-day beard. As expected for a leaner man, Waring’s particular beauty lay in his batwing lat spread and chiseled abs, which tapered radically into a mere 29” waist. Cobbled, veiny abs lead down to his fearsome bulge. Now Waring was up. He tied on a pair of dirty wristbands and cinched them tightly, licked his lips, approached the 160-pound weight, and looked up at Gunst with a half smile. “What’re you waitin’ for? C’mon, get moving,” said Gunst impatiently. “It’s my third set.” “I know. C’mon, man, you’re stalling.” “You know what I want.” Waring winked and grinned, and his dimples broadened deeply. Gunst rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Jesus. You and your third set mantras.” He leaned into Waring, cupped his palm, and roughly took the jock pouch bearing his partner’s heavy balls into his calloused hand. He flicked Waring’s leathery testicles with his thick thumb and with strong fingers stroked the curling cock shaft tucked into the jock. Waring closed his eyes and exploded breath. Gunst fondled the cock, feeling where the 11” flaccid shaft coiled into a sagging downward-pointing firehose U-shape. His own cock began to stiffen as the pouch bearing Waring’s junk began to expand under his touch. He gave a last thumb flick and stepped back. “Yeah!” shouted Waring, and he squatted, grabbed the weight, stood, and reeled off 15 perfectly executed curls. The veins in his biceps expanded and contracted powerfully, eddying currents of blood in a river of muscle. 40 feet away at the incline bench press, Privates Aja Jin, Reed Bogarde and Derek Washington were taking turns doing dumbbell flyes with 125 pound weights. Ginger-haired Bogarde was up, while black muscle giant Private Washington spotted him, and the Asian Private Jin muttered hyper-masculine, mono-syllabic bon mots of encouragement. "C'mon. Get big. Get huge. C'mon man. Push. We're right here." The three heavyweights were generally together. If they weren’t closely supervised, they’d spend more time than absolutely necessary on pec workouts. A year before they had petitioned Moster to be allowed to wear their prized brass chained nipple clamps during their training. Moster had refused at first, but after they appealed to Dr. Zaftig, he finally relented. “The pain inspires them,” Zaftig told him. Moster had to agree that this one time, he had been wrong to withhold his approval. And once again, it was good for morale. The chain to Bogarde’s clamps was draped over the t-shirt and lay across his mammoth, boyishly freckled pecs. He’d completed 11 reps seamlessly, but was now pausing, his arms open wide, the dumbbells held aloft. “Do, it, man,” he growled, and as Moster watched, Private Jin reached over and with gentle, adroit firmness, tugged slightly on the chain. Bogarde’s face contorted with pain. "Push, asswipe!" screamed Jin. Bogarde completed the set. “Thanks, buddy,” he breathed, as he slammed the weights to the floor and sat up. “Privates!” Moster called out. “Remember I want to see you remove those clamps every 10 minutes for an exact period of 20 more minutes!” “Yes, sir,” said Washington, about to take his seat on the bench for his set. “By my watch, it has been more than 11 minutes. Those clamps come off. Now.” “Shit,” muttered Washington, but he duly turned to Private Jin. “Take care of this for me, and I’ll do for you.” “Okay,” said Jin. He lifted Washington’s t-shirt, and gently unscrewed the clamp on the left nipple. Instantly Washington’s face contorted with pain. Jin leaned in and tenderly licked the swelling brown nipple with his tongue for a few moments. Washington nodded, and Jin repeated it for the right nipple. “I’m good,” he said. Jin lifted his shirt and Washington returned the favor, caressing Jin’s nipples with his tongue as he removed each biting clamp. “Hey, what about me?” Bogarde grinned, slipping off his t-shirt. His large nipples pointed heavily downward, with lusciously round, perfect aureoles. He pumped his 58” ripped chest fully, fists at his side, and stood smiling expectantly as his two muscle buddies moved into his side, their heads to Bogarde’s chest, each manning a clamped nipple. For Private Bogarde, the only good thing about the unclamping was the minute of stimulation he received from his buddies to keep the excruciating pain he so adored from making him instantly cum into his overstuffed jockstrap. Once he came, his partners knew the chest workout would be effectively derailed for a good 15 minutes, and so to prevent such time wasting, both men were inclined to be extra attentive. Over time, they developed a routine. Together the two bodybuilders carefully unscrewed the clamps, and swiftly leaned in to kiss, lick, bite, stroke, and caress Bogarde’s freed, erect nipples. Bogarde moaned, his eyes rolling to the ceiling, his cock now swelling threateningly in his jockstrap. “Shit,” he moaned, and his buddies glanced down at the straining pouch. His mushroom-round penis head poked heavily over the top and began to climb up his abs. Jin and Washington knew that he might shoot his load at any moment. The two double-timed their nipple licks. After a minute, their tender administrations allowed him to regain control. He nodded – he was okay – and they backed away. Satisfied, Bogarde pumped his pecs to their fullest size and inspected them both closely, nodding with serious, unsmiling self-approval. Wet with spit, his stiffened nipples bloomed. “Freaky,” he breathed. His buddies nodded. “Awesome pecs,” said Jin. “Awesome.” Bogarde stuffed his receding cock back into his jock, and winked at Moster. Moster watched. When it was clear Private Bogarde was past danger, he called out again. “Back to your work. You have twenty more minutes before you can put those damn clamps on again.” The men nodded dutifully. Washington sat, grabbed a dumbbell in each hand, hoisted them to his knees, leaned back, and effortlessly pushed them both to the ceiling. His chest expanded mightily. Bogarde shouted the count. “1! 2! 3!” Jin spotted, his powerful hands lightly meeting Washington’s elbows with each rep. For a moment, Bogarde fondled his smarting nipples tenderly. He caught Moster’s stern eye and, still counting Washington’s reps, nodded sheepishly and slipped back into his sopping t-shirt. Corporals Rene LeFevre, Tony Chad and Private Chris Hension were supersetting between bent-over single-arm rows and military presses. The massively muscled corporals, both in their mid-30’s, were the compound practical jokers. Their perfect foil was the slightly dopey 22-year old, 260-pound superheavyweight Private Hension, a square-jawed, curly-haired, dreamily handsome inductee who had only been admitted into the ranks of The Nineteen from the cadet squad six months before. Hension's face was so unusually beautiful that he was catnip for all who gazed upon him. With his deep blue eyes, perfectly square jaw, high cheekbones, imposing Roman nose, thick eyebrows, short curly black hair, powerful young physique and endearing, gap-toothed smile, he looked like a hyper muscular refugee from some crazy TigerBeat boy band. Teen muscles personified, and unusually huge, though he was 3 years past his teens already. His hazing was not quite over. Tonight he was burning from the red-hot chili powder LeFevre and Chad had worked into the folds of his jockstrap. Early in the workout he had waddled with his bodybuilder’s muscle-laden stride over to the 50-gallon water cooler, pulled down his jock, and poured a quart of refreshingly cold water onto his stinging red shaft. Every ten minutes he had to return to the cooler as his P-21 enhanced, ever-growing penis began burning anew. He couldn’t figure it out and was embarrassed. The fabric of his jock was now transparent with wetness, and the crimson outlines of his snake-coiled penis could be seen glowing painfully. LeFevre and Chad hid their grins innocently as a baffled Hension trudged back towards them, his fingers gently probing and rearranging his drooping big package for maximum comfort. “Something the matter, Private?” asked LeFevre. Hension nodded. “My junk hurts,” he said. He still wasn’t entirely used to the newly achieved girth of his organ. “And it itches.” “You keepin’ it clean?” “Sure.” He stuck his hand in his jock. “It’s getting too big. It don’t fit in these jocks.” “How big?” LeFevre winked at Chad. “I ain’t measured.” “Really?” “You lie.” “Okay, it’s past 10 inches now.” “About the medium point, then.” “You’re probably jerkin’ off too much.” “All that new size. Kinda hot, right?” “Gotta wipe all that jism off after you shoot, son.” “I keep it clean,” Hension protested. “Okay,” said Chad. “We can take of that later for you.” “Thanks,” said Hension, and then he noted the wicked gleam in Chad’s eyes. “Oh, you assholes,” he whined. “What did you do?” His buddies began to roar. Furious, Hension grabbed a 200-pound dumbbell and flew through a set of punishing one arm bent-over rows. His wide back roiled with shifting mountains of muscle, and as he jerked and lifted, his damp wife-beater gradually crept up to reveal his hardened, vulnerable butt, pumping up and down, undulating with each rep. A red handprint from a private discipline session with Sergeant Moster the night before still glowed on the right buttcheek. And the men laughed even harder. “You got it coming and going!” said LeFevre. Hension slammed the weight into the mat, turned abruptly and placed his big hands protectively against his ass. Then he grinned. “Yeah, yeah, it’s funny, so go laugh!” Inside his jock, his stinging member twitched. Private Hension liked humiliation. In fact, there was nothing he liked better, and both Chad and LeFevre were onto it. As far as they were concerned, the handsome Private’s hazing would continue indefinitely. Just two weeks before, Corporal Chad had hacked into Hension’s private PC and found links to dominatrix S&M websites on Hension’s private PC, with cum-stained downloaded jpegs and pngs of leather-clad, spike-heeled mistresses, face-slapping hapless, undersized men. Mixed in with the images were pictures of a huge muscleman tied up with ropes and chains, a rubber ball in his mouth and an enormous butt plug shoved up his anus. Hension’s private fantasy – and he was a little embarrassed about it, which was only good manners – was to get his face slapped, viciously and unrelentingly, by beautiful, affronted, enraged women. He dreamed of being caught sucking Alvarez’s massive cock, and being interrupted, and hauled to his feet by a beautiful blonde mistress of discipline, who would slap his handsome face repeatedly, leaving welting, bright red, stinging handprints on his clean-shaven cheeks. His head would whip from left to right, from right to left, under her powerful bitch slaps. Happy tears would roll down his face onto his stinging cheeks. “Aw, baby…” he’d cry, pretending to be in pain. “Don’t slap me!” And his mighty cock would also whip from side to side. “You deserve to get your face slapped, you filthy muscle slut!” SLAP. And meanwhile, Alvarez would drop to his knees and lovingly administer skillful oral to his massive cock. This dream of slapping punishment from angry mistresses filled his nightly jerk off fantasies. Chad printed up a few and privately slipped them to LeFevre, who laughed devilishly. “Someone’s been in my room playing with my computer,” Hension complained that night at dinner. The two feigned innocence. “Why, how can you tell?” asked Chad innocently. “Because the asswipe left it on.” “That might have been you.” “Nope. The asswipe left it on at a website I like. I would never do that.” The men roared. Hension pouted. “Don’t worry, baby face. Maybe some day soon on a field trip, we can set up a surprise for you, now that we know what you like.” Hension brightened. “Really?” he asked hopefully. “We’ll see if you’re a good boy. Why don’t you come by for some posing practice tonight?” “O—okay,” he said, shooting a furtive look at Corporal Alvarez and Private Lang, quietly sharing a table on the other side of the dining room. Chad caught it and for an instant was jealous. He knew Hension longed to be a part of Alvarez and Lang’s notorious “Pose and Approve” nightly sessions. Private Robert Lang was a younger version face and body look-alike for his buddy, Corporal Julio Alvarez. The same exact height, the two bodybuilders kept their bodies shaved, and might easily have been mistaken for one another at a distance, if it weren’t for Alvarez’s neatly trimmed mustache. Alvarez also boasted the same brutal muscles, the same sweep to his triceps, the same broad back, and the same peerless baseball biceps. Older, wiser, and a touch serene about his muscles, he and Lang were like brothers. Brothers, however, they weren’t, and they exhibited no instinctive physical filial reticence with one another. Lang, standing 5’ – 10” and weighing in at 285 pounds, was dark, serious, extraordinarily handsome, and brutally built. Secretly unsure of himself, he sought approval whenever he could, a little mortified by the beauty of his face. He had pronounced horseshoe triceps of uncommonly full sweep, an impressively broad back, and, as Alvarez noted, a beautifully rounded muscle bubblebutt graced with an almost horizontal butt shelf. To help bolster Lang’s flagging self-confidence, Alvarez – without question the alpha dog of this pairing, even as he was the slightly bigger muscleman - developed a ritual he called “Pose and Approve.” At first, it developed quite naturally. Over time, it had evolved into mutual muscle worship. Alvarez’s judgment and approval of Lang’s muscles were his drug of choice, next to P21, that is, and his own brutally punishing workouts. They started out privately in Alvarez’s room. From the first night, he was ready. An 8’-0” x 10’-0” lit posing dais dominated the back bedroom in his quarters. “Built it myself,” he said quietly as Lang stared at the polished wood surface. When did he find the time, Lang wondered. Alvarez carefully adjusted the cool LED lights. Lang watched eagerly, stripping down to tight posers straining under the weight of his throbbing, veiny penis. Alvarez took his sweet time setting lights and atmosphere. Lang watched, shoving his hand into his sagging pouch and absently manipulating his big tool to half erection. When he judged all was ready, he’d step back. “Okay. Get to work,” he said. Eagerly Lang jumped onstage and hit a front double biceps. Alvarez nodded his approval of his buddy’s muscles. “Nice. Big old cannonballs. Show me more.” Another pose. This time a side chest. Lang’s pecs pounded and seemed to reach the ceiling. His heavy nipples were already taut. “How do I look?” Lang asked nervously. “Looking all right,” Alvarez said casually. “Lights need adjusting.” He half turned away as if to check the wiring. This prompted Lang into frenzy, and he began whipping out pose after pose. “The lights are fucking fine! I’m smokin’!” he cried. “Look at me, Alvarez! Check out my muscles! I’m fucking huge!!!!” Alvarez smiled. “Okay, big man,” he said. “I see. I see what you need.” And casually bending in, he took Lang’s by-now rock hard penis into his mouth and lolled it about gently. Inside, his tongue stroked the long, thick shaft, working its way up and down the veins. “It’s your reward for your perfectly developed muscles.” Lang was in heaven. Then they switched. Alvarez stepped up and surpassed his buddy’s posing performance. As he flexed, Lang sank gratefully to his knees to admire his musclegod buddy. Alvarez hit a pose - wham! - and Lang would greedily slurp on his gigantic rod. "Boom," purred Alvarez. "Big biceps, baby." "Twenty fiiiii---vvve inches...." "Bullshit." "Twenty-five baby. Feel 'em. Suck my cock." "You got it. Sucking now, man." They went back and forth for hours. Flexing biceps, smacking roiling quads, pec dancing, sucking each other's cocks. After a few sessions, Lang developed a surprisingly insatiable taste for Alvarez's stunningly perfect glutes, and sometimes lost himself rimming the man's rosebud butthole while Alvarez posed, legs spread wide, gazing at himself thoughtfully in the wall-length mirror across the room from the dais. Whenever Lang's face was buried deeply in the bigger man's butt, Alvarez found his creative posing juices to be inspired, and he was able to flex for hours without getting tired. Over time, they worked out new routines this way. Of course, Alvarez and Lang had long since taken “Pose and Approve” into more stratospheric, not to mention more public, levels of performance during the last year. The men liked to watch, and occasionally were invited to join in. For more than a year now, the men all knew that Lang slipped whenever he could into Alvarez’s room late at night for an hour of nearly silent shared posing routines and powerful rounds of cocksucking. At the end of their private sessions, each man could be heard roaring in the compound’s corridors as he spurted a mighty ejaculation inside his buddy’s mouth, onto his abs, or inside his yielding bubble butt. Just a week before, when a confidence-challenged Lang was standing in front of the corner mirrors after general workout, trying vainly to figure out a new routine, coach Alvarez decided to take it public. After all, all the men knew. And were curious. And were watching. Eagerly. Even Karim bothered to look up from his own fascination with his flexing biceps. Alvarez directed Lang from pose to pose, nodding. He ran his fingers smoothly over his body. Then he dropped quickly to his knees, stripped off his jockstrap, took his cock into his mouth, and continued to direct him from there. “Bring your right arm up a little. Now tilt your head. Look up. Pretend you see something,” garbled Alvarez, his mouth full of Lang’s cock. “What am I looking at?” asked Lang, a little anxious. “Clouds. You see clouds. Good. More clouds. Right. Here’s your reward.” Alvarez licked his cock hard for a minute. “It’s like he’s licking an ice cream cone,” said Hension. “An ice cream cone with veins,” said Blankenship. Washington stared, grinning. Lang colored slightly. In his jock, his heavy penis head began to expand and push against the thick fabric. “Yo, bodybuilders deserve to get their cocks sucked while they’re posing,” Lang said dreamily, flexing. “I’m down with it,” said Washington. “You can suck mine next.” And Lang did. Alvarez sucked Lang’s dick approvingly, licking the thick shaft lovingly. Then he pulled back to allow Lang to pivot to the next pose. Lang crunched into a most muscular, Alvarez nodded again with serious respect, and sucked him as his reward, as his buddy held a crab shot for 60 full seconds. They moved as one: pivot, flex, a nod of approval, a minute of cocksucking, withdrawal, pivot, flex, another nod, another minute of cocksucking. Absorbed by their mutual passion of posing together, the two silently went into matching, impromptu routines, flexing their powerful guns in unison as if choreographed, slapping their quads, turning to flair their lats, all the while staring appreciatively, each transfixed by the other. And the men stared, too. Soon all they all joined in. The workout was effectively over. Cocks filled mouths for the next hour. Rough, calloused hands appreciatively patted and stroked flexed biceps. Pecs danced. Tongues licked sand dollar sized, downward pointing nipples. Moster was not pleased. Nevertheless, he waited until the last groans had finished, and the last drops of the quarts of ejaculated bodybuilder cum had burst from throbbing cocks down eager throats. "Are we finished?" he asked quietly. The men lined up, sheepish, all with dripping cocks and cum flecks on their lips. Hension's face, inevitably, was covered. "It got into my eyes," he complained. Smack! "Owwwww!" he yelled. Moster waited, and then spoke quietly. “There’s a time and a place for everything,” he barked, all sheepish and spent, wiping the cum from their lips and bodies. After that, Moster determined to keep Lang and Alvarez separated on the floor as much as possible, for the two men were so – was ‘inspired’ the word? – attuned to one another’s powerful physiques that the Sergeant had determined it would be more efficient for all if they trained apart. It always led to “Pose and Approve,” behavior that Moster determined was more efficiently left to the locker room and showers. “Pose and Approve” was all very well for private time, but on the gym floor the men had been known in the past to become hypnotized by one another’s muscles. On rest days, of course, Moster kept them completely separated. That was an order. These days, the two grudgingly but unquestioningly yielded to their CO’s command. Once, Moster had caught them together outside on a bike path on a prescribed rest day, both naked, erect, and posing feverishly. He watched silently for a few moments, waiting for the inevitable moment when Lang sank to his knees and greedily gathered Alvarez’s cock in his mouth. “Gentlemen!” he boomed, striding forward onto the path. “Today is a rest day!” He swung mightily, he clipped the surprised Alvarez right on the jaw. The punch felled the muscleman immediately. Even the usually arrogant Alvarez was a mere beta puppy before the 7’-0” Moster. “In my quarters! Now!” Ten minutes later a cowed Alvarez was stretched over Moster’s powerful knee, receiving a serious butt paddling. Lang stood by nervously, knowing he was next. “You’re like two bad boys,” he said gruffly as he spanked Alvarez’s perfectly rounded buttocks. Neither man protested, each watching the other meekly as he received punishment from the implacable giant Moster. The loud spanks were heard echoing down the hall for 40 minutes. The men sat in the mess and listened to the spanks and howls. “No one crosses Moster,” Schumacher said airily, to no one in particular. The distant sound of spanks bounced off the walls. Perfect musclebutts were receiving perfect punishment. “Gee, what did they do?” asked a fearful Hension. “Someday you’ll find out,” said LeFevre darkly. He winked at Chad. Later, they emerged sheepishly from Moster’s quarters, red-faced and gingerly rubbing their painfully reddened glutes. The two were barred from contact of any kind for three weeks. Moreover, the enforced temporary change in the training schedule upset all of the men, who privately handled the transgression in their own manner. There was a strict code of punishments the men had privately devised and agreed upon over the years, and when training violations occurred, the offender was subject to the discipline of the group, most often provided by a steely-eyed Corporate Karim Abdul. The night after their ordeal with Moster, Abdul and Gunst visited the men in their quarters. The men each stood meekly, as Karim punched their faces with cool precision. Then he spanked them both, followed by Gunst’s stern force-feeding of his cock. Then, for good measure, both men thoroughly fucked their butts. The next morning at chow, each man sported two black eyes. Their flanks ached, and closer inspection revealed that sitting was painful for more reasons than were immediately apparent. “Dudes, what happened to you?” shouted Chad across the mess hall. “Shut the fuck up,” grumbled Alvarez. “Report to the infirmary,” said Moster. “Sergeant, begging your pardon, we’re fine.” “As you prefer, Privates.” “Abdul stretched the shit out of my asshole last night,” Lang complained quietly to Alvarez. “Me too,” Alvarez asked. Silence. Then they both laughed quietly. “Was it worth it?” asked Alavrez. “Fuck yeah,” said Lang. Nevertheless, the men grudgingly acknowledged privately it was their due desserts. After that, Lang and Alvarez obeyed orders, and it didn’t happen again. Their eyes healed quickly and though they remained separated at night, soon they were back on the gym floor the same day Moster suspended their sentence. “No sense in losing perfectly good training time for those two. They’ve learned their lesson,” Moster said to Zaftig, who was always puzzled by the developing social rules within his own lab rats. Three weeks passed, and the night they were finally reunited, Moster smiled privately to himself in his quarters as the excited groans of the two reunited men echoed down the corridors long after hours. The next morning, far from being tired, they appeared at 0700 hours breakfast as if entirely rejuvenated. The other men looked a little weary, having been kept awake all night, but all were in grudging good humor now that the two muscle buddies were together again. Backs were slapped and good-natured jibes taken with grinning good grace. “Have fun last night, Lang?” teased Obatu. “Yep,” said Lang, his mouth full of eggs. “Alvarez get any bigger in the last three weeks?” “He sure did,” Lang nodded seriously, chewing and swallowing. The men guffawed, and Alvarez smacked Lang playfully on the back of the head with a giant paw. “What’d I say?” asked Lang, perplexed, and the men laughed harder. Across the table, Karim never looked up. Faggots, he thought. Still, his cock twitched in his jock. He had liked punching the handsome faces of both Alvarez and Lang, though he didn’t want to admit it, and the crisply delivered black eyes he had administered had made it all even more exciting. And the fucking was fun, too. Moster was satisfied. All in all, it was good for the team. Good for morale. Chapter 8: Tiffany’s Talent Karim was in the corner, working out on the punching bag. His buddies, if the taciturn Lebanese from Michigan could have said to have “buddies”, Privates Duncan and McIntyre, were alternating between bench wrist curls and neck-strengthening dumbbell lifts. The rhythmic volley of Karim’s rapid punches filled the air. Abdul Karim was, at his most social, on the taciturn side. At 6’-3”, 275 pounds, and less than 2% bodyfat, Karim had a beard and mustache that he kept meticulously groomed at all times. He had the Arab’s big nose, dark skin, and, except for his back and shoulders, a full body armor of tight, black curly hair. His muscular chest was black with fur, with two deep red-brown nipples poking through. His quads were oak trees. His bullish biceps, covered with bright tattoos, were stacked and wired for maximum damage. His fists were huge and calloused. Karim was an extreme fighter of the first order; calm, methodical, practiced, powerful, relentless and merciless. Zaftig had plucked him from the State Penitentiary of Washington about four years earlier. He was in for manslaughter, having beaten to death a suspected serial rapist in Seattle; the trial transcripts stated that he had simply held the dude aloft by his collar and repeatedly punched the guy in the face until he grew bored. Inside, it was said, he had beaten to bloody pulps 5 inmates who had jumped him one night in the shower with sharpened shivs and the intent to kill. How Zaftig got him out was still a mystery to Moster, but, as his CO was bigger and possibly even a hair stronger, Karim silently respected him without grudge or attitude, and there was no real breach of discipline. Still, it was tough to pair him off in extreme fighting matches in the compound, although Corporal Schumacher was a close match. Annoyingly, if understandably, both Chad and LeFevre were careful to keep the beautiful young Private Hension away from Karim. Secretly protective of their young initiate, they didn’t take any chance that the longingly masochistic Hension might approach Karim, and get a lot more than he bargained for. Karim, for his part, wasn’t particularly interested in Hension. For him, a hole was a hole was a hole, and as for getting his cock sucked, he preferred women to do the job, as long as they shut up about it. Oddly, he didn’t seem to mind if effeminate boys took care of his meat, if no pussy was available. A bitch was a bitch was a bitch, though he took care to show basic respect for being serviced (even if, of course, it was his due). He did, however, like piss. Karim liked to be pissed upon, and he liked to piss on others. He marked his territory. He especially liked it when big boy Gunst pissed on him. After all, he respected the man. He didn’t consider it a sexual fantasy. To Karim, piss was just the right expression of muscle and power. Late at night, he sometimes came to the workout room alone and worked on the heavy bag. On those nights, he made sure that the kitchen boy, Pedro, was standing by. A slender 16-year old kid, barely 130 pounds, and a sweet-natured homey if ever there was one, Pedro would wait patiently in a darkened corner until Karim summoned him to approach, get on his knees, and suck his unusually hairy cock while he worked the light bag. The boy loved hair and muscles, and Karim’s big veiny tool got an appreciative coating between his lips. Karim would grunt, shoot, coat the boy’s face with globs of semen, pat him affectionately on the butt, and head off to bed without washing off. The boy scampered into the kitchen to start breakfast for the men, happy to have been of service. Good-natured Privates Bill McIntyre and David Duncan were often buffer zones for the brooding Corporal Karim. Calm and circumspect, like Karim they too were hairy big boys who preferred the ladies, albeit always in groups with the Lebanese. Moster occasionally arranged for private liaisons for the three bodybuilders with three high-priced, Amazonian professional girls flown in from Las Vegas. The men fucked their women vigorously, always with their eyes on one another. After they finished up and the ladies had departed, Karim often polished off the night fucking his buddies’ shapely muscle butts, alternating between them. It took a lot to satisfy Karim, who could fuck all night, and sometimes Moster was hastily summoned to make sure the session ended. He often brought Gunst with him to break up the party, for Karim liked nothing better than to finally cum while Gunst pissed in his face. “Feels good,” he would grunt as Gunst’s firehose cock shot streams of piss on his muscles, while McIntyre and Duncan stood by smiling, gently fingering their reddened, aching buttholes. Karim would work his cock fiercely with his powerful fist, quickly spurting buckets of semen onto his hairy abs, and, as always, trudge off silently to bed without washing or saying good night. Gunst would then get the privilege of sucking Moster’s giant cock while McIntyre and Duncan watched respectfully, stroking their own cocks. Sessions would end with each bodybuilder shooting his cum into Gunst’s mouth. Gunst could swallow volumes of cum. “Makes me bigger,” he’d say. The big boy preferred monster penis, and liked it best with other musclemen standing by watching. So it worked for everyone. Beyond them, Corporals Schumacher, Obatu, and Blankenship were besting each other in sets of deep squat deadlifts. A 42-year old muscle veteran with tattoos, steel-wool skin, acne scars, an explosively powerful physique dense with vascularity, and all honed by nearly 30 years of raw, intense training, Herman Schumacher was the current king of this group, with his wide-oval, pronouncedly roiling, round hamstrings of pure power protruding far behind him. His broad, solid, rounded manbutt rolled above his hams, meeting into a firm, deep butt crack. His calves were split into two deep and distinct diamond-like heads. Schumacher had no-nonsense iron-grey hair and was generally scowling. He knew all who saw him wanted to fuck his mighty butt. Secretly, he was happiest when either fucking – or being fucked. His formidable, muscular, hairy glutes demanded attention. He was loath, however, to acknowledge his fantasy top. Rarely fucked by the other men, and always only after extreme begging and some act of subservience, Herman Schumacher had some private fantasies of his own, involving heavy rope and buttplugs, that one day he hoped he’d have the courage to investigate. For now, the opinions of the other men were still too gravely important to him. He wasn’t ready to betray himself. Not yet. In the mean time, it was generally understood that Schumacher’s powerful tool was always at the ready to plow a tasty ass. Just out of his hearing, the other men all agreed - and even Karim - they craved his particular kind of butt fucking. It seemed he could always find the g-spot, and he quietly provided hours of late night pleasure for those men who had just finished a grueling squat workout, and whose eager buttholes needed relief. Obatu chose to shave his head bald, had shiny black skin, and like Schumacher and Karim, nearly always had a fearsome scowl on his face. His glory were his bull-like traps and his mammoth pecs, which at 66”circumference approached Moster’s own in size, shredded cuts, and separations. His fearsomely large genitalia had a habit of rolling out of his jockstrap during training, and he’d absent-mindedly scoop his balls and cock back into place, often pausing unconsciously for a quick couple of strokes on the extra-long, heavy shaft and a quick flick of his thick thumb on the bell-shaped cockhead. Then he’d lift and adjust the heavy pouch and resume his powerful lifts. On white cap nights, however, he often didn’t bother to repouch. Blankenship, younger than both and only recently having attained the rank of Corporal, didn’t have the ripped density of Schumacher nor the sheer mass of Obatu, boasting instead superb genetics and beautifully honed symmetry. Good-humored and outgoing, the roman-nosed young Blankenship favored classical Greek poses in his routines, and he often showed off his alluring lines with his muscular arms held overhead. He was a statue come to life – and he knew it. Shouting encouragement and taunts at one another, Schumacher completed another grueling set of 25 reps with 400 pounds. On the last rep, he strained to replace the weight on the floor with disciplined quiet, in control of the weight to the very last. Then he blew out a mouthful of spit, shook his head violently so that his sweat flew everywhere, and straightened up. Blankenship planted a solid smack on his naked butt. “Nice!” he yelled. Schumacher smiled wearily and nodded. Then he turned and glanced across the room to see if Private Joe Tiffany had been watching his set. Tiffany was working triceps and delts with Private Robert Lang. Alvarez was at the squat rack, training legs with Private Eli Meyer. The good-looking All-American Jewish Meyer was the shortest man in the squad, standing only 5’- 3”, and sadly, a mute. He was a highly developed, talented gymnast, double-jointed nearly everywhere and was astonishingly supple for a little muscleman. He easily contorted his 210-pound body into positions the other men could only dream of. He favored the relatively simple – for him – pose of planting his rippling arms on the floor and swinging his legs sky-high behind them, tilting his pelvis forward past his elbows and holding steady for long periods of time. The pose was catnip for the squad, who, after hours in the compound rec room, loved to more closely inspect Meyer’s proudly displayed hairless, supple pink butthole, which he playfully puckered in and out for them at will. Meyer would smile hugely and nod encouragement, his eyes sparkling with mischief, as the excited men scrambled to their knees and took turns playfully licking and probing his asshole. Alvarez enjoyed a lick as much as the other men, but he always noted Lang’s slightly hurt gaze and promptly retreat with his buddy for some private posing. For his part, however, Alvarez had no issue when Lang, occasionally overcome himself, dipped his handsome face into Meyer’s butt for a taste of honey. Afterwards, Alvarez noted, he would pose harder than ever. For Tiffany was trouble. Alvarez noted that Tiffany was studiously ignoring Corporal Schumacher’s impressive set of deadlifts. Lang, almost as dim as Hension, hadn’t seemed to notice. But then, Lang hadn’t learned yet that he shouldn’t trust Joe Tiffany. Joe Tiffany was 19. He was gap-toothed, dark-haired, freckled, had slightly big ears, and looked a little goofy. He was bow-legged, weighed 235 pounds, and had almost no bodyfat at all – and what little there was lay sweetly atop what Herman Schumacher imagined was probably the most beautiful butt on the planet. On the day of his arrival into the Project facility just a little less than a year ago, Obatu had nicknamed him ‘Huck Finn’. The name stuck, and over time morphed into ‘Fuck Him.’ No one had, though, as of yet. Not privately, anyway. Tiffany was smart. He looked dumb and played the innocent, but he was canny, shrewd, and manipulative. He also had an unusual talent, which he had privately shared with the curious Sergeant Moster not long after his arrival. It was not unlike perfect pitch: Tiffany could take astonishingly accurate size measurements – orally. Moreover, he had no gag reflex. It appeared that he could take anything. Any cock. To its full length. Even Moster’s. Moster had found out quite by accident – or so he thought. In the showers alone one night, the black muscle giant was lathering up his armpits when he turned and discovered the Private staring at him from the doorway into the locker room. “You’re here late, Private.” “I forgot my jockstrap.” “Better get it and head to bed. Training tomorrow at 0700 hours.” Tiffany held his jock up silently. He waited. Moster stopped lathering and returned his look. “Is there something I can do for you, Private?” he demanded. Tiffany said nothing but gazed straight at Moster’s gargantuan, swaying dick. “Private?” Moster stepped forward. Tiffany didn’t move. “Sir?” He gazed unblinkingly at the cock. Moster glared. “Well?” Tiffany looked up and came to attention. “Sir, I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “But that is the biggest dick I have ever seen in my life, sir.” “It is unlikely you have seen a bigger one.” “I’m guessing no one has, sir.” “No, probably not. Just how big do you think it is?” “Sir, if you will forgive the indulgence, sir, but I believe I could tell you, sir, and quite accurately, too.” Moster had already heard about Tiffany’s after-hours mess hall boasts. Now was the chance to see if the boy had the stuff. “On your knees, then, Private.” “Yes, sir.” Tiffany stepped forward in the shower, got to his knees and opened his mouth. He held still. Water poured from the spigot and in an instant, Tiffany’s t-shirt was wringing wet and bulging with his tight teen muscles. He looked up expectantly at Moster. He was calm. “Doesn’t look like anything I can’t handle, sir.” Annoyed at the Tiffany’s arrogance for a flashing moment, Moster slapped his swaying, dripping cock fiercely three or four times. It blew into an engorged 20-inch-plus vein-pulsing snake inside of 5 seconds. Water from the shower splashed onto it and ricocheted off the walls. “All right then. You’ll have to open up much wider than that.” “Yes, sir.” Tiffany opened his mouth as wide as he could. Moster strode forward, grabbed the back of the young Private’s head, and forced his face onto his cock. Amazingly, Tiffany’s lips easily enveloped the enormous head, then the shaft, and slid down until Tiffany’s nose was pressed against Moster’s body. Somewhere inside, Moster’s giant shaft had disappeared deeply down Tiffany’s throat and into his upper body. Yet the muscleboy didn’t gag. Instead, he looked up and smiled, his mouth full of black bodybuilder cock. He held still a full minute, as Moster’s cock throbbed inside him. Then he slowly pulled his head back. “18 and 5/8s inches, sir. 8 pounds, three ounces. You weigh 396 pounds tonight, sir, your body temperature is 97 degrees, and your blood pressure is 120/85.” He smiled serenely. Damn, thought Moster. He’s right on target. There was just no telling where P21 protocols could lead, and what talents it might unearth. He nodded, satisfied, and then plunged his cock deeply back in and out of Tiffany’s mouth. In spite of its huge girth, Tiffany bowed and obediently went to work. As Moster pumped his hips rhythmically and Tiffany sucked mammoth cock, the sergeant’s mind drifted towards the men. Hmmmm, he thought. He was deeply in thought, automatically flexing his muscles and yet barely paying any attention to the efficient, powerful, machine-like sucks of Private Tiffany. Finally he began to shoot rivers of cum into the teen’s mouth. After a minute or two of shooting, he withdrew his cock and coated Tiffany’s face evenly with the last blasts of semen. Tiffany licked and took in as much as his tongue could reach, and then he stood, at attention once again. His cute face was covered with clouds of thick cum, which dripped down in thick globs onto his body under the spray of the shower. He saluted again, and wiped his mouth so he could speak clearly. “I hope that was satisfactory, sir?” “It was.” He didn’t appear to be injured in any way, at which Moster privately marveled. He turned away and began soaping the blobs of cum off his cock shaft. “You’re aware that sucking your CO’s cock is a privilege awarded rarely to men of your rank.” “Yes, sir. I know, sir.” “You will report to my private exam room tomorrow about an hour into the evening session. I’ll let you know when.” “Thank you, sir. It was a pleasure, sir.” He started out of the shower room, and turned, adding, “By the way, sir, your cum tastes a little like banana. I love banana.” He saluted again, and was gone. “Fresh punk,” thought Moster, but he was pleased. Starting the next evening, Moster began to require that the priapic dimensions of each muscleman be included in his records, the information to be obtained in privately conducted sessions he personally oversaw with Private Tiffany on hand to take the strictest of measurements. As always, the sergeant immediately designed a standard ritual of procedure. Ordered one by one into the examination room off the gym floor, each bodybuilder entered singly, wearing a tight posing strap, and walked silently into the center of the room. Private Gunst was first. “Stand under the light,” Moster ordered quietly. The bodybuilder stepped onto a posing dais, and poised himself under a single focused spotlight shining from the ceiling. He awaited orders, hands at his sides. He wondered why Tiffany was present. Moster stood in half-light, fully covered in clean white sweats, as always. The silent Dr. Irving sat in a pin light in the distant corner, armed with a video camera and scribbling in a small pad. Tiffany, wearing the white regulation tight t-shirt and khakis, stepped forward from the shadows. “Let’s see what you got, man,” murmured Moster, and Gunst swung into a posing routine. The first pose was a side biceps pose with the muscleman leaving forward and rotating his back towards the sergeant, so that he might better appreciate the three distinct cannonball deltoids, the broad lat sweep, the baseball separations of the biceps head, the powerful shape of his obliques, the shapely, hard glutes, and the roiling hamstrings. It was a landscape of muscle, and the men all knew it was Moster’s preferred pose. Then Gunst straightened, reached toward the single spotlight, and slowly brought his arms down into his most powerful, sustained front double biceps pose. “26 inches, sir!” he shouted. He held it for about 30 seconds. “Looking good,” said Moster, slightly bored. A three-minute posing routine followed. There was no sound in the room apart from the rapid tapping of Dr. Irving’s pen, the hum from the spotlight, and the waves of air being sucked in and out of Gunst’s mouth as he glided smoothly from pose to pose. Front lats, pivot, side left chest, side left triceps, pivot, rear lat spread, rear double biceps, pivot, side right chest, side right triceps, pivot, left quad, shake, slap, flex, right quad, shake, slap, flex, overhead ab crunch, and finally a most muscular, crunching viciously into a vein-exploding crab shot. Then the bodybuilder stood still, waiting. Thick rivulets of sweat poured down his physique. “Okay. Front double biceps again, please.” Gunst flexed his mountainous peaks. “And hold it.” Gunst smiled and strained, eager to please his C.O. “All right, Tiffany,” Moster said quietly, “get to it.” “Yes, sir,” said Tiffany. He strode forward, and as Gunst stood steadily flexing the classic front double biceps, the shorter Tiffany gracefully reached forward, took hold of the elastic side straps of his thin mesh poser, pulled the pouch forward and down, and unveiled the muscleman’s flaccid, long, thick, imperial penis. Moster cracked a quick smile, noting that Gunst first looked startled….then curious…. and then aroused. The giant gazed down as the business-like Tiffany got to his knees, gently fixed his pretty lips on the man’s junk, closed his eyes a moment, plunged deeply, holding the instantaneously stiffening penis deeply in his throat for about 60 seconds. “Wow”….breathed Gunst. He continued to flex his biceps, but tears appeared in his suddenly glistening eyes, and his cheeks flushed deep crimson. Below, Tiffany held firm and steady, his moist lips gently enfolding the thickening penis, widening his jaw to allow the throbbing member to enlarge to its true, pounding, blood-filled girth, standing gradually as the man’s cock began to climb towards the ceiling. He appeared to be making some internal calculations. He allowed 30 seconds more to pass; then he lolled his tongue around the muscleman’s cockshaft, pulled back, dipped again to twice lick the bulbous cockhead, paused again, and then gently parted his lips and pulled back, smacking his lips happily. He wiped his mouth. Gunst stared at him. "Huge cock, man. Nice." Tiffany turned to Moster. That was all it took. Gunst promptly began to spurt ropes of milky cum into the air, which Tiffany deftly dodged. He announced his findings. “12 and three-quarters inches, sir, tip to base,” Tiffany announced with obvious pride. “As you see, he is uncircumcised. Foreskin is clean and about six inches around. Penis weight, five and one half pounds. Shaft circumference, eight inches. Head size, three and three quarters, sir. Two pronounced lateral veins.” Tiffany paused. “He weighs 325 pounds, sir, and at the moment, his blood pressure is 140/80.” He grinned. “It’s quite a penis. You should be proud, sir.” “Yeah, thanks.” Gunst was still shooting. Ropes of cum hit the walls. “Sorry, sir.” “That’s all, Private,” said Moster. “Dismissed.” Gunst, his dick still shooting volleys of cum, stepped off the platform, glanced with confusion at Tiffany, and walked slowly out of the room, his posers barely covering his throbbing cock, leaving a trail of cum as he went. “Tell Corporal Abdul to come in next,” Moster called after him. Gunst turned. “May I watch, sir?” Moster considered. “All right.” At the outset of the tests, Moster was immediately on hand with a tape measure and a blood pressure cuff to verify what he could. After awhile, he didn’t bother. Tiffany was always right. By the next morning, Moster had realized that Tiffany had deftly strategized the whole routine. He’d been punked, and by a newbie. It was as if Tiffany had foreseen Moster’s every move, and now, in record time, every man in Project Herculaneum was aware that Private Tiffany’s blowjobs were a vehicle to provide new particularized personal information being added to their charts. Moster was secretly amused at the teen’s cojones, but knew that he’d have to regain the upper hand again, and soon. Still, it wasn’t for him to break Tiffany personally. That would have made his displeasure too apparent. He began to look for opportunities for the cocky Tiffany to be bested by one of the men. A face punching by Karim would be too brutal. He considered other ways. Maybe in the wrestling ring. Yes. ******* Links to other chapters: "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 - Inside Zaftig's Lab: The Musclemen Revealed
  4. SouthernFit

    The Clinical Trial: Chapter 8

    Chapter 8: Gym Worshiper The good thing about going to the gym before 5:00 AM is that you usually have it to yourself. That was usually the case when Austin went so early. The whole place would be empty. This morning was different. There was some young swimmers build looking guy there benching while Austin was rotating between standing shoulder press and barbell rows. Austin could feel the guy watching him as he did set after set. After about 40 minutes or so, Austin finished and walked back to the locker room to shower. The locker room was empty. He took his shorts and tank top off, put a towel on, and walked to a shower stall. In the shower he washed his body, flexing his muscles as he lathered soap on them. These days even the sight of his own muscled body would often get him hard. He scrubbed his whole body, washed his hair, rinsed, dried himself off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and then walked out of the shower stall to the locker room. The guy that had been watching him in the gym was standing in the locker room with a towel around his waist, having just showered himself. He just stared at Austin as he walked to his locker. Austin looked at him and asked "What the fuck do you want?". The guy was obviously intimidated by him and meekly responded "Can I lotion your body?". Austin responded "Yea". The guy pulled a bottle of body lotion out of his bag and walked up to Austin. Austin held his arms out and flexed his arms. The guy rubbed some lotion into his hands and then started to rub the lotion into Austin's arms, starting at his wrists and working his way up Austin's arms to his huge shoulders. Austin then flexed his back while the guy lotioned his back. The guy stepped to Austin's front and Austin flexed his huge chest while the guy lotioned his chest and ran his hands over his big round pecs and sculpted abs. At this point, Austin's towel was tented and he could take no more. He dropped his towel, his now 10 inch cock springing out. Austin told the guy "Prepare my cock." The guy put some lotion into his hands and rubbed it onto Austin's hard cock until his cock was shinny with it. Austin then grabbed the guy, turned him, and pushed him down over a table with folded towels stacked onto it. The guy tried to protest "please, please don't". Austin said "Shut the fuck up, you deserve this" and started to push his cock into him. The guy called out "please its too big. please....", Austin grabbed a wash cloth and shoved it into his mouth. He pushed all the way into him, the guy gagged now "ummmmmhhhhhhhh.....". Austin began to thrust, holding the guy down with one arm, grabbing his waist with the other. The guy mumbled through the gag "ummhmmm.......uhmmmhhmmmmm......". Austin fucked him harder and harder saying "this is what you get bitch, this is what you fucking deserve". Now Austin was moaning louder and louder, him fucking the guy harder and harder. Austin said "Fuck yeah, fuck yeah.....", he then pulled out and came, shooting all over the guys ass and back. When he finished, Austin looked at the guy in disgust, and stepped away from him saying "clean yourself up you fuckin bitch" and through a towel on him. Austin then quickly dressed and left.
  5. Guest

    The Test - Chapter Six: Cronus

    The Test: Episode Six Cronus Vengeance practically glowed with the electricity he had called from the sky. His skin was slick and the metal parts of his flesh shone bright. He flexed his whole body and walked over to his father, Chaos. - Do you approve, Dad? - You did well. - I’m massive, aren’t I? - Yes. - Bigger, I think, then even you are. - You might be. - I feel so alive, Dad. So fucking alive!!! Vengeance roared and electricity from the sockets and lamps shot into his body, massaging it. His muscles swelled up even larger and he seemed to grow taller. - I can’t stop, Dad!!! It feels too good! I think I’ll just keep growing forever!! - Control yourself!! We have work to do. - Work??? We have work to do??? Another massive roar, another burst of electricity, and Vengeance’s pecs swelled to greater proportions. - I decide when I work and when I don’t work! I make the decisions now!!! A fireball appeared in his hand, and he threw it across the room, setting part of the couch ablaze. - I think it just might be time to dethrone you, Dad. What do you think about that? Chaos just stood there and watched at his son. - I said: What do you think??!! Vengeance generated another ball of fire and hurled it at Chaos, striking him directly in the chest. The energy blast flung him across the floor and onto his back. As Vengeance walked over to him, he drew energy from every source, bulking up further. His gargantuan arms, filled to the breaking point with muscle, swelled even larger. - What do you think, Dad? - I think you are a sniveling little brat who should be taught a lesson. Vengeance struck Chaos with a second blast of energy, and then a third. Chaos was hurled against the wall. - I can do this all day, Dad, but I’m not sure you can. I have a secret, Dad. I know how to kill you. The gem told me. Chaos wanted to speak, but stayed quiet. - Very well. I take that silence to be my answer. I make the decisions now. Here, let me help you up. Vengeance extended his hand to Chaos, but stopped and pulled it away. - On second thought... lick my hoof. - What? - You heard me!!! Lick... my... HOOF!!!! An unseen force grabbed Chaos, picked him up, and pitched him down on his knees. Chaos attempted to fight it, but the strength of the force was stronger then even he, and it began pushing him down closer and closer to Vengeance ‘s hooves. - Worship me, Dad!! Worship your new King!! The force pressed down even harder on Chaos while he tried to fight back. Never in his life had he kneeled before someone, and he wasn’t going to start with his own son. With all of the mental and physical strength he could muster, Chaos threw himself onto his feet, twisted toward his son, and in one instantaneous movement, ploughed his entire arm deep within his chest. Taken totally by surprise, and assuming his metal casing would protect him, Vengeance just gaped with wide eyes and open mouth. - No son of mine will ever speak to me that way again!!! The noise that Vengeance emitted was ungodly, forcing Destruction to cover his ears. With the same rapid movement, Chaos pulled his hand out of his sons chest, clutching pieces of the gem and pulling tentacles trailing behind. Once the tentacles hit the night air, they slunk back into the gem making it whole once again. Vengeance looked at his father with shock and sorrow. As he tried to speak, blood and foam began to bubble up out of his mouth and run down his face. Vengeance started to shake wildly as every part of his body began to pulsate, bubble, and hastily begin to fall apart. Flesh dropped off as his whole body began to liquefy. Falling to his knees, he struggled to reach out for his father, but Chaos simply kicked him away. In mere moments, Vengeance was nothing more then a large mess on the floor. Chaos turned to Destruction. - Do it!!! - What? - Remove my heart now!! - I don’t... - Do it!!!!!!!! Destruction didn’t have to be told twice. Walking up to Chaos, he pulled his arm back and then sunk it into his chest. He was shocked how easy it was, and found himself silently wishing it killed Chaos. Everything seemed to be moving quickly out of control. Through gritted teeth, Chaos barked another command. - Do it!! Destruction enfolded his hand around Chaos’ beating heart, yanked, feeling the veins give way, and slowly removed his arm with the prize in his hand. Blood began to drip from the corners of Chaos’ mouth. With a shaking hand and sheer determination, he lifted the gem to the gaping hole and forcefully thrust it in. He waited for what seemed like eternity until he began to feel the gem beating in his chest like his own heart once did. His flesh filled back in, and Chaos was whole once again. Silence filled the room as Chaos took a step and then another, trying to remain on his feet. Every aspect that had become a part of him when he created Chaos swiftly began to revert to the original form Declan had possessed for most of his life. Chaos was just a memory, a bookmark in his quest for power. In a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke. - I demand you give to me what you were hinting at with my son. I know the power that lies within you and I want it all. Only I can weald such power! Give it to me!!! Listening to his demands, an indescribable feeling began to fill his entire body, his entire being, and his mind. Destruction watched as Declan began to shudder and then tremble, a smile emerging on his face. - Yes!!!!! I can feel it flooding my entire body. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s mind altering!! I’m opening my brain to it! Fuck!!!! Yes!!! I can now see so much!!!! I can see the whole universe!! Not just our universe, but every universe! The gem began to beat faster in his chest and commenced glowing so bright that it could be seen from within his chest. - I have been given the key to everything!!! I am being handed the entire universe!! Every cell... every atom, every piece of matter in this and the billion other universes on this and every plane is mine!!! In a blink of an eye I can be anywhere... and everywhere!!! It’s more then I expected!!! It’s not simply power, it’s all power!! Declan grabbed his head with his hands and started to scream. - All of the knowledge of this universe... It’s forcing its way into my brain!!! All of the knowledge of every universe is flooding me!!! It’s... almost... too... much... to.., handle!!! Lightening shot down from the sky, through the ceiling, and began to strike the ground around Declan. Destruction could hardly see him behind the blinding rain of lightning bolts. With his head still bowed to the ground, Declan lifted his arms up into the air as if welcoming the energy into its new host. On command, thousands of bolts of lightning began to shower down into his body. As he was hit over and over again, Declan proceeded to laugh. With one quick movement that was nearly impossible to see, Declan stood and caught a bolt as it hurled down from the sky. Holding it before him, he looked deeply into it. - Inside of this human body I now hold the secrets of everything, everything!!!!! I know where the universe stops and where it ends. I know why we are here, and what started it all. I look through the curtain to see the creator... and I see me!! ME!!! All of my life, this puny creature I was wanted to know everything... and now I am everything!!!! I am becoming the beginning and the end! I am becoming God!!! Holding the lightening bolt up high, he threw it into the wall where it burst into flames. Declan screamed out again, holding his head. Destruction moved toward him but Declan held up his hand, chucking him backward into the wall. - Even Asarualimnunna didn’t know what would happen if I claimed the gem as my own. It never knew what it really was. He only knew to safeguard it. Now I am it and it is me. We will merge, and nothing will ever stop me again!!! Destruction tried to cover his ears as Declan spoke. His voice was so loud now, so deep, and so powerful. It seemed to come from everywhere at once. His voice was in Destruction, around him, and becoming a part of every single molecule. - It’s taking every ounce of my will to stop myself from breaking apart into millions of atoms!! I was never meant to rise again, yet here I am being reborn!!! No human should be able to handle this without going insane!!! No!!!!! He’s trying to take me over... forcing me to loose myself. I forbid this, do you hear me??!! We must merge!! We must become one!!! An energy surrounded Declan as he fought for dominance. - Look at me!! I will becoming God!! I demand it be so!!! Attempting to hold onto reality, Declan began to pace around the room. He was talking so fast that Destruction found it nearly impossible to keep up. All he wanted to do now was run away. If Chaos was really becoming God… the world was in trouble. - Asarualimnunna assumed the gem would be safe within my son but Asarualimnunna underestimated his rage and newborn desire for power. That yearning weakened the walls of the gem letting out bursts of supremacy. When I saw what he became... was still becoming... what dominance he held... I knew it was supposed to be mine.... It was my destiny!!! So I took it.., Declan screamed out again in anguish as he fell onto his hands and knees. Destruction felt like he was watching a time-lapse movie as every stitch of clothing Chaos/Declan had once been wearing rapidly began to age, pull apart, fall from his body, and disintegrate. Crouching naked on the floor, was the average body Declan had always possessed. Lifting his salt and pepper haired head to look at Destruction, his eyes glowed a powerful white. Laughing hysterically again, Declan began to speak, but as he did, every language since the beginning of time piled on top of each other came out. Stopping, Declan grabbed his head once more, and in time started to speak again. - So hard to focus when one sees everything... when one experiences everything... I was here when time began... I’ve always been here!! Always expanding... always infinite. You question if you’re alone in this universe... you are... we are... but there are an infinite amount of planes and an infinite amount of universes with an infinite amount of lives and now I am all of them!!!! Not wanting to be alone, I... no!!! Not I!! We!!! We created more of me... The Titans. We ruled over every realm, every plane. My son... Declan laughed. - Like my own... desired supremacy all for himself. He found a fragment of existence where We had never been, and he fashioned a prison so strong that no one could escape it. The key was his own existence. The energy needed to fashion this prison ripped holes in many of the planes letting creatures easily pass from one to the other. In your own world... near its beginning... creatures like the Gorgon and the Kraken, and the Minotaur, and you, moved from their planes to this... hundreds of stories are told of them and each one true. My son used this prison to merge the Titans back into one and hold me there. He then took this prison, this gem, and he swallowed it. There in his stomach I lay. And he ruled over this realm and many others till soon his worshipers began to forget about him and he began to fade. In his last moments, he fashioned a creature to surround the gem... one of instinct that would never know what it held... Asarualimnunna... and sent it hurling through the planes of existence. Yearning to return home, it threw itself back through space and time...landing here... before it was originally created… where it fed. All it wanted was to feed... but it learned, and the unconscious desired more. Eventually separated from its heart, Asarualimnunna was pitched into its own prison, with only the longing to feed and keep the crystal safe... a jail warden. Asarualimnunna had to wait for the right moment, and began to break free again using the strongest of energy sources, your rage induced orgasms, to rip open the planes... bringing him closer to what he considers his home to feed. But I no longer need a jail warden!!!! Declan called forth Asarualimnunna and he appeared in his true form. Snarling and snapping, the demon attempted to escape, but it was imprisoned in Declan’s will. Extending his hand, Declan seized the creature and held it up to look at it. The demon started to screech as Declan willed every atom of Asarualimnunna to break apart. Breathing in, he ingested then all. - With no guard, the prison was weakened, and my own son began to find kinks in the armour. I sensed that if left to his own devices, the power within him would only continue to develop. It is my destiny to rule, to be worshipped, to have supreme knowledge and power at my fingertips!!!! Declan began to shudder again, his naked body shifting and pulsating. He cracked the knuckles in his right hand and watched it grow stronger. The fat around his belly disappeared, and years of age was removed from his face. - In all of my years wanting everything, I will now possess it all. Do you hear me!!! I made the decision to rip my own heart out!! I consumed the gem!! I willed the prison to be open!!! Now we will merge!! I demand that I become the universe! Every universe! I will not Be the false god Asarualimnunna made me. I will be THE God!!!! As he spoke, Declan began to get bigger. His muscles swelled larger with new vitality. - My strength, though infinite is limited. I need worshipers at my feet!! Looking at Destruction, Declan called to him. - Come and worship at my feet!! Under no power that was his own, Destruction slunk toward the man that had once been Chaos. Rising from his crouching position, Declan watched the creature trembling at his feet. - Your fear tastes delicious… Wash my feet… with your tongue. Under duress and under no will of his own, Destruction began to lick clean every inch of Chaos’ feet. As he licked, he could tell that they were starting to get slightly larger, longer, and thicker. Declan’s voice was even deeper as he spoke again. - Yes!!! I can feel my power growing stronger!! I have learned so much from each of you... what symbolizes power and influences fear and worship. Fuck!!!! There are no words you would understand to tell you how feel!! Don’t stop licking!! Destruction felt his own tongue growing longer and thicker in his mouth. Declan was compelling this to materialize so that he could now lick more surface areas of his growing feet. - Do you worship me, Destruction? - Yes. - Will you give me everything I desire? Think before you answer - Yes! - That’s all I needed to hear. Destruction began to be elevated off of the floor by invisible hands. - My first creation, you have served me well. Before Destruction could even scream, Declan separated all of his atoms and breathed him in. With a grin on his face, Declan could feel Destruction’s life force filling him up. His muscles swelled larger on his entire body as all that had been Destruction became his. The man grew taller and taller, reviling in the power he possessed. Flexing his biceps, they plumped up thicker and denser, his traps elongated and filled with pound after pound of muscle. His legs, once short and weak became columns of muscles, forcing him to have a wider stance. His midsection, freed of fat, began to bulk up with cobblestones of muscle, his skin wrapped tightly around each one, the crevices between each, deep. All of the matter from Destructions body forced Declan taller and broader, younger and more virile. As Declan welcomed the changes his human body was going through, he was finding it more and more difficult to keep his thoughts straight, not knowing what was happening in the past, present, or future; on this plane or the million others. All he knew was he had to hold on to his sanity until the merging was complete. His mind reached out and he saw creation and destruction at the same time. The part of Declan that was still human couldn’t believe that his dearest wishes were coming true one hundred fold. Once he wished to become a God among men, then he was gifted the image and powers of a God, but even that wasn’t enough. Now He was merging with and becoming Cronus, the first God... father to Zeus... ruler of everything!!!! Needing more matter to further fortify his body, Declan reached out and emancipated every atom in the house that surrounded him. Breathing in, in mere minutes, he ingested the matter of the entire building, furnishings, and plant life that surrounded it. When complete, he stood in the center of an immense crater in the ground. The matter from the combination of Destruction as well as the building forced the merging of human and God to quicken. Cronus fought for complete control over this body, but Declan wouldn’t surrender what was his. Through his insane will power, he was forcing Cronus to become one with him. A battle took place within Declan as he proceeded to grow taller and more muscular. On several planes of existence the two fought for supremacy, yet Declan’s craving for power was overwhelming, even to Cronus himself. Not admitting defeat but choosing what was perhaps the best option, God and human began to merge. - Yes!!!!! This world... every world is mine!!!! Suns, stars, black holes, and worlds exploded in thousands of universes across thousands of realms, the matter being dissolved and fed into the emerging God. The power of eternity rained down on Declan as he began to change. His hair grew longer and thicker, flowing down past his shoulders, and converting to an intense white colour. Hair began to sprout on both his chest and face, swiftly filling in and becoming extremely dense. His facial hair grew into a formidable beard, and both it and his chest hair matched the white locks on his head. As his beard grew longer, his skin grew younger and firmer until it was impossible to judge his age; he could be 20 or 80 for he was eternal... he was all time. All Declan could do was grin and experience all that was happening to him. Comprehending that he was now God was nearly too impossible even for him!! Supremacy was all he thought!! I now have supremacy over everything!!! Declan continued to grow taller and more muscular as he and Cronus merged. Every organ in his body ceased to exist as there was no longer any need for them. Like a sun that sat in the middle of the universe that was growing within his body was the gem. Swirling inside his body were other realms, planets and suns. Declan was the universe made flesh. The pecs that developed on his chest pumped up thicker and more dense. The hair that covered them was copious, but nothing could completely hide the musculature that existed on his body. His already wide lats quadrupled in size as his waist tightened, creating the greatest of V shapes. His traps thickened as his shoulders grew wider. The arms connected to this immense core bulged out even further with muscle as it traveling down his arms to his forearms and then to his hands. - I must hold on!!! I must not be defeated!! I must complete the merge!!! As his left hand grew more and more muscular, Declan’s right hand began to tranform dramatically. All of the fingers were merging until his arm resembled one enormous column of muscle. The area where his hand once was commenced turning silver as Declan realized it was now entirely made of indestructible metal. Touching it with his left hand, he discovered it was solid metal and had absolutely no feeling. Not contemplating what Cronus was causing, he watched as the right half of the extremity began to grow longer, stretching out away from his body. It curved slightly as Declan grasped that his right hand was now a gigantic sickle. Swinging it through the air, Declan embraced the weapon that was now a part of his body. It had been what Cronus had forged the universe with and maintained control, and now it would be a part of them permanently. Declan now stood nearly 14 feet tall and several tons of ripped, bulging muscles. As the wind tore past is naked body, he tried to comprehend what he was. Every sense was heightened a thousand fold. His physical eyes could see for miles and his inner eyes could see for eternity. He smelt every smell that ever had been, and heard every thought. Declan could only grin widely as he embraced all that he was becoming as they merged more and more. On one item, both Cronus and Declan were in total agreement: Declan knew they needed more size and Chronus believed they could never be big enough. Reaching out to more and more universes, to more and more realms, they sacrificed them all for matter. Declan rose taller and taller as hundreds of pounds of muscle was healed upon his body every second. - I won’t stop growing!!! I never have to stop!! Let me ingest more suns, more worlds to make me go on forever this way!! FUCK!!!! What am I becoming??!!! Declan’s penis, already of considerable size for a human was an embarrassment for Cronus. With one simple thought, it began to sprout as mighty as his own arm. Veins the thickness of trees wove around his cock, feeding it, not with blood, but with pure matter from ten thousand suns. Thicker and longer it rose till the gigantic head could be seen nearing his pecs. His testicles also grew immense as they filled with ambrosia, the nectar of the Gods. Declan tried to concentrate on the plane he physically was existing on as worlds being created and then destroyed passed before his eyes. The voice of Cronus rang out in his head: - You have sampled only an inkling of what I possess. Turn back now and I’ll let you live. - Give me it all!!! We will merge!!! - SO BE IT!!!! Declan screamed as he was given everything he desired. He yearned for power… and discovered he was power. Anything he desired was at his command. With a mere movement of his pinky, entire worlds would stop turning. He would reign supreme forever for he was eternal…immortal. He could punish for no reason, or rain wealth down on the needy. He was life… he was death. He was destruction. He was growth. He began and ended everything. He was God. Declan and Cronus ceased to exist as two entities any longer but together as one mighty force. This is how it always was and always would be. When they spoke, they spoke in unison but in a chorus of two voices; both deep and soul consuming. A mere thought might haunt Cronus as they remembered that at one time a piece of them had been human, but that no longer mattered. Cronus was everything. Standing thirty feel tall and hundreds of tons of muscle, Cronus took in their surroundings. The world had changed since their imprisonment, and not for the better. Now that they had returned, the world should return to how it once was. With this desire, hundreds of humans transformed into Gorgons, ,Harpies and Sirens, Cyclops’s and Minotaur’s, Chimaera’s and Dragons, and Demons. The world of myth of… chaos… would once again reign. Humans flocked outside to see them in all of their glory. Standing proudly in their nakedness, they began to walk, their powerful footsteps echoing for hundred of miles around. As they made their way, they would walk right through buildings leaving them intact. They would come to them out of respect, not out of fear… yet. Admiring this world, they grew larger, soon standing over 50 feet tall, then 60 feet tall, then 70. Their musculature was beyond measurement as there had never been any creature so immense. Without opening their mouth they spoke to everyone at once. - We have returned. We are Cronus and We will worshiped. You will build temples to Us, make sacrifices to Us, and honor Us. In return, We will allow you to live. Anger Us, and We will rain fire down destroying you all. Cronus’ body burst into flames, every inch of them living fire. Their eyes were fire, their hair and beard were fire, their cock was fire. - We have returned and we will reign supreme!! These words rocked Jacob as he was running back to the bath house to get Eros, and hoped he wasn't too late. These words woke Zeus from his slumber. These words echoed through every world on every plane through eternity. The sovereignty of Cronus had begun.
  6. The first two chapters of my muscle novel-in-progress, The Twenty. Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "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 Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in priapic size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes the twentieth muscle god, young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, super-hung 19-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable need to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his growing need to receive both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decades-long Project, itself only now beginning to suggest its full potential. Introduction The 3-story steel, glass, and concrete compound was snugly nestled in the misty rural hills that rolled gently inland from the ocean, where the Santa Ana winds met the hot air rising from the distant desert to the east. Poised at the edge of the highest peak of the Santa Cruz Mountains, the 4,000-acre gated complex was just barely visible from the discreet entrance on Pacific Coast Highway below. A single sign stood at the locked automatic entrance gate, reading - Private No Outlet The private drive wound up the mountain, snaking through dark woods of redwood and pine, finally arriving at the labyrinth of vine-covered high concrete walls, topped with barbed wire, which surrounded the entire complex. Closed circuit cameras marked every turn of the road. Manicured lawns and open fields could be occasionally glimpsed through thick veils of leaves, branches and red rock. 350 miles south was Los Angeles. San Jose was the closest city, 30 miles away. Local residents drove past the gate on Pacific Coast Highway, wondering about the mysterious multi-million dollar complex. The place had seemed to spring up overnight, seemingly from nothing, more than 10 years before. The traffic in and out was largely limited to food delivery and supply vans. Unseen generators hummed through the night. The people who worked there appeared to be in residence. Was it an athletic training facility? Low planes flying overhead clearly identified a likely indoor Olympic-sized swimming pool, bicycle trails, playing fields, and more. There were also a few outer buildings that appeared to be well-appointed dormitories, with small lawns and private drives. A building attached to the central core might possibly be a central hall, with sizable private, enclosed terraces open to the sky. Convoys of SUVs, all bearing the logo VALHALLA LABS were parked in a half-empty parking lot in front of the main building. Occasionally local delivery men, bringing whole sides of raw beef, fresh vegetables, lab equipment, chemicals, electrical supplies, and – this was the most perplexing part – hundreds of tons of expensive exercise equipment would spot one or two dozen young men on bicycles, pedaling furiously through the high hills, always followed at a discreet distance by an unmarked black car and by the one of the SUVs. From a distance the men on the bicycles appeared to be unusually large. In any event, the local deliverymen weren’t talking. Most would just shrug and say they didn’t know. Besides, they’d signed a confidentiality agreement barring their conversation about what they might happen to observe within. And since no one appeared unduly nervous about the place, over the years the matter dropped. Still, the rural locals who hung out at the motorcycle bars and music clubs nestled deep in the hills continued to buzz. Most assumed that it was some kind of military base and laboratory. Others noted the apparent residence buildings from the air, and thought it was either a private Olympic training compound, or some kind of crazy health nut cult commune. Certainly it was neither a prison nor a university. But no one really knew what it was. And over the years, little by little, the mysteriously well-tended commune was enveloped in the mists of revered local mystery, a legend the hill people of the coast, who were mostly Northern California biker clubs, surfers, horsemen, and artichoke farmers, relished and loved, without knowing anything about it. Remote, mysterious, un-Google-able, not listed on any map, no one really knew what the place was, and even less was understood. However, since it was apparent that no nuclear waste was being discharged, no one worried. No one appeared on either San Jose or San Francisco streets with appeals to join some far-out religion. No shots were fired in the night. And because, in fact, the whole compound was refreshingly green, paid its local bills on time, and was mysteriously quiet at night, for years no one really worried about the place. If only they had known it was the wellspring of the Fountain of Eternal Youth. Or, as it came to be called years later, after all the fuss and scandal and stories had finally faded into the misty aura of legend – the Lourdes of Bodybuilding. ********* This is the story about the day that it all changed forever. THE TWENTY A Government Issue Adult Cartoon -XXX- Muscle Fantasy By Joey Silverado This book is dedicated to Tiny Yokum – and to all his fans, past, present, and future. From Dr. Warren Irving’s Notes List sorted according to date of entry into program. Click tables to see details. Chapter 1: Project Herculaneum October 20th, 2021 1855 Hours In Valhalla Labs’ 15,000 square foot soundproofed gym, 18 of the longtime test subjects of Project Herculaneum were approaching the second hour of their balls-to-the-wall workout. On the west wall, one-way visibility windows framed the magnificent mountaintop panoramas in the growing twilight. As the sun disappeared, the glass increasingly glowed with the golden reflections of a roomful of massive male musculature. The workout floor crackled with the sounds of iron clangs, grunts, groans, and ecstatic roars of pain, shouts and taunts. The air was thick with hot sweat, crotch and armpit smell. Low ranking solders in the US Army, and ranging in age from 20 to 45, the 18 were, to use the argot of the world of male bodybuilding, freaks. Huge muscle freaks. Animals. Swole. Jacked to the balls. ‘Roided to the tits. Except that they weren’t ‘roided at all. Every man on the squad was clean and clear of the usual bodybuilding drugs required to build massively muscled specimens of uncommon size and strength. And they weren’t just conventionally “huge” either. All of the soldiers of Project Herculaneum were fired by one supplement only. P21. And Project Herculaneum, now approaching the end of its first decade, was finally yielding the astonishing results promised from the beginning back in 2007. The Project Director and Genius Factotum, Dr. Ira Zaftig, had long dubbed his lab creation enzyme P21, “The Fountain of Youth.” The wellspring of eternal energy, strength, youth, beauty, and sexual power. Perhaps the secret of life itself. The Men of Project Herculaneum thought of P21 differently, though. “It’s the straightest line between two mostly unreachable points: freaky muscle, and ba-boom!” Or so said Private 1st Class Dan Gunst, a 6’-10”, 375-pound mountain of ripped muscle whose growth on the enzyme had surprised even project founder Zaftig. Off to one side, the 19th man on the squad squatted on a bench and closely surveyed the men's training with half-lidded eyes. By far the largest man in the room, CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster’s muscular perfection was unparalled, even in this room of freakishly huge men. Squared-jawed and blindingly handsome, 44-year old Rod Moster was 7’- 0” tall, weighing in at 395 ripped and shredded pounds, a black mountain of solidly ridged muscle: deeply separated, profoundly striated sheer muscle mass, boasting a body fat index of 1.2%. Dr. Zaftig was the heart and genius creator of Project Herculaneum. The squad and their CO were the ongoing subjects of his personally supervised “Top Secret” project. For years, the men had been receiving regular lab-controlled injections of Zaftig’s carefully developed muscle growth enzyme, P21. Sergeant Moster, on the enzyme for more than a decade, was the project’s powerful senior officer and unopposed trainer. Yet in spite of Moster's formidable size and strength, he was soon to be equaled by two of the soldiers in his direct command, Corporal Karim Abdul and Private Gunst. He knew it, too. The workout room met Moster’s strict standards. Room temperature was always set exactly at 90o. Moster would not allow air-conditioning on the workout floor. After all, sweat lubricates muscles and encourages growth. No one disputed Moster's rules. On a sprung workout floor measuring 10,000 square feet, there were two dozen squat racks, 42 benches, 8 rows with hundreds of dumbbells ranging from 5 to 300 pounds, and hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of gleaming machines, standing bicycles, elliptical tracks, cable racks, ropes, belts, grips, and stacks of weights. Hundreds and hundreds of tons of weights. In the distant corners of the gym, a few normal-sized Valhalla lab assistants scurried silently in the shadows with video equipment, towels, heavy water jugs, and cleaning equipment. The men on the floor never paid any attention to the pipsqueak lab rats, as they called them. Occasionally, one of the pipsqueaks meekly approached Sgt. Moster with questions or a need for direction. Moster was always gracious, brief and business-like with lab underlings. They were Zaftig’s people, after all, and he appreciated that it just might be difficult to recruit them. More importantly, the lab rats were not, after all, muscle worshippers. Geeky science majors somehow matriculated from Berkeley and Stanford, their applications for their employment were most thoroughly scanned to determine both their dedication to science, and their lack of sexual interest in the project subjects. Past circumstances had indicated that the men of Project Herculaneum were unusually vulnerable when it came to the possibilities implied by muscle worshippers. The less of that from outsiders, the better. For now, anyway. Besides, there was real money to be made with the advent of worship. That would come later. Above all, Moster didn’t want to water down the future possibilities. Some day, when all this was over, there was a lot of money to be made. Moster was counting on it. Under his leadership, the goals of his 18 musclemen were never ending, their focus never dulled by the daily routine of their sequestered lives inside the Valhalla Compound. And for Moster, it was all about building muscle. Solid, rock-hard, healthy, powerful muscle. Muscle supported by bones and internal organ strength. Whereas Dr. Zaftig was compelled to his daily grind of endless lab research and observation of the men by his quest for eternal youth, Moster was not distracted by such vague, high-minded creationist illusions. All Moster cared about was that his men develop huge, serious, ripped, dominant, clean, overpowering muscle, muscle like the world had never seen before. Moster relished the fact that his extraordinary development was still a constant inspiration to his men. He generally preferred to remain completely covered, rarely choosing to display his magnificent physique. His custom-built oversized sweatsuits were carefully tailored to camouflage his physique while not hindering movement. They were heavily reinforced at the seams to avoid tears and bursting, and were neutral in construction and color. The sweat pants were gathered into tight stretch bands at Moster’s ankles. He generally wore combat boots and a white do-rag. But even the careful design of more than 25 yards of a blend of durable synthetics and heavy cotton couldn’t disguise Moster’s 60-inch wide shoulder girth, 7'-6" reach, 70-inch chest, 36-inch quadriceps and 25-inch calves. An observer might only be able to guess at the Sergeants’ biceps, triceps, and brachialis size. Moster chose to wear his sweatshirt loose, masking a slender, powerfully shaped 32-inch waistline. He never tucked it in, always making certain he was successfully covering his crotch. He had his reasons for this, which were well known by his men. Whenever Moster appeared in uniform, or civilian clothing, his appearance was all but terrifying – and, at the same time, insanely alluring. Rod Moster's boxing, wrestling, and extreme fighting skills were superior to all but Corporal Karim. Moreover, by now in this stage of team development, Moster found he had to work harder than his men in order to maintain the very slight edge he still held. Zaftig knew this, much to Moster’s subtle discomfort. He knew could be unseated by the right man at any time. Project Herculaneum was that far along. He remained proud of his team, knowing as he did that some day soon they might surpass him. When it became apparent to all that his long-held edge over the others was narrowing, a few of the men privately anticipated the day that he might finally be bested by one of the 18. The bets were on Karim Abdul, though Abdul had no particular vendetta against Moster; all the same, it would be a day of reckoning for the alpha CO, to atone for some of the more painful and humiliating extra-curricular disciplines he had long enforced. Hey, as long as that day doesn’t come too soon, he would joke in the mess hall. And all would laugh, even as they exchanged meaningful glances. Moster’s dedication to Project Herculaneum was total, even if it did lead him to occasionally lock horns with the dreamy, physically underdeveloped senior genius Dr. Zaftig. The 67-year old Zaftig was both crafty and kind-hearted. Though he held a basic unshakable respect for all, he was not above manipulating the men’s fragile psyches to get what he wanted out of them, and he made it a priority to know and understand all of them for their personal strengths and weaknesses. Over the years, it had been hard work finding and inducting these particularly gifted men into the program, and, once introduced, each man represented years of painstaking research, investment, time and testing. It was only right that he would pay close attention to what made each man tick. On the other hand, Moster preferred to accent his authority with an occasional dash of cruelty. He felt it was good for the team. After all, life was cruel, wasn’t it? And so together, Zaftig and Moster had forged a decade-long alliance of good cop/bad cop, each man sharing in his own personal way a common goal. Both cared only for the success of Project Herculaneum. At base, however, they held profoundly different motives. Zaftig hoped to find the perfect candidate for P21. As magnificent as the 19 men were, the final, perfect genetic recipient of the miraculous compound had yet to be discovered. Sergeant Moster, meanwhile, had other plans. All those worship sessions loomed ahead on a promising horizon of money, power, travel, and new opportunities. After all, Moster wasn’t a fool. Zaftig might be, but he certainly wasn’t. Chapter 2: P21 1987-2021 Ira Zaftig’s 2007 successful lab synthesis of Protein P21 promised nothing less than a physical revolution for all mankind. For more than 30 years, the eccentric, obsessed, and touched with genius, Harvard Med educated Dr. Ira Zaftig had parlayed a vast inherited private fortune and the proceeds of his own lucrative San Francisco medical practice into ongoing lab research and experiments. At first, he sought to develop nothing less than an injectable synthetic that would, of course, cure cancer. The usual dream of every young medical researcher, the youthful and wealthy Zaftig, heir to a lumber empire long sold to a larger conglomerate for a lifetime profit that elevated him into the 1%-ers, had the means to set up a private lab to do it. Over the years, that cure for cancer evolved into something else. As he aged, Zaftig grew more interested in creating a formula permanently extending youth, while enhancing physical strength and systemic health. The years passed with no result. Zaftig grew more obsessed, and eventually discarded his practice. He never married and avoided personal relationships, building an impressive private lab in the Santa Rosa Mountains outside San Jose. And he became a hermit whose life routine was only about continual research, testing, developing, synthesizing, note-taking, and video review. He amassed a team, whose job it was to test protocol after protocol on lab rats, guinea pigs, and rhesus monkeys. None of the animals, he was satisfied to note, were ever harmed by his injections, but none ever exhibited any permanent signs of renewed vigor, either. It was as if they were injected by harmless placebos. Over time, lab teams noted some temporary strength and health benefits in some, not all, of the lab animals. The effects were temporary, at best, and it was difficult to determine which animal might feel the effects, and which ones would not. Zaftig assumed sympathetic systems were required for any effects at all to take place. By 1998, Zaftig had engaged as his permanent first assistant the all but silent, studious, equally hermetic Dr. Warren Irving, whose natural reticence disguised fervor equal to Zaftig’s. By then, Zaftig’s ever-growing lab employed small army of coming-and-going lab workers, security personnel and personal administrators, whose silence and trust was purchased with time-stamped temporary employment terms, astonishing starting salaries and carefully drafted legal confidentiality contracts, were on hand in the continually refurbished lab facility, now enlarged into a complex of some size. Since Zaftig was seeking the creation of a God, he appropriately named his ever-growing facility Valhalla Labs. At first, in the specialized world of pure research outside the lab, ‘Zaftig’s Folly’, as came to be referred to, was an unending in-joke on the perils of vanity research. However, it was equally observed that any man or woman who had served in Zaftig’s lab emerged silent, circumspect, and deeply respectful about what went on within. Over the years, the jokes stopped, and by the late 1990s, ambitious young researchers hoped to spend a few seasons at the secluded lab, if for only to slake curiosity – and to make a lot of money. Still, the lab had produced nothing. No patents had been applied for. On it went, year after year. Then, after 30 years of steady non-production, in 2003 the 53-year old Zaftig had a breakthrough. A crop of lab male lab animals appeared dramatically invigorated by a trial run of newly developed formula. Careful notations of animal behavior indicated that the rejuvenation of the lab animals was deeply organic in nature. Most importantly, after protocols were ceased, the effects remained. And the animals grew surprisingly. They did not become monsters, but measured, in some cases, a quarter larger in size and weight than they were at the outset. They were somewhat more aggressive, too, but, as all were relieved to note, did not become, maddened, dangerous or even slightly mean. In fact, personal handlers reported that the animals appeared “cheerful” and “playful.” They also, when allowed, copulated with the other males, and sometimes the females, almost continuously. This was noted by Zaftig, who duly recorded it. Dr. Irving felt Zaftig somewhat ignored the sinister implications. After a year of continually successful lab animal results in select males, it was finally time for the first human trial. Zaftig, ever the Henry Jekyll tried P21on himself. The results were disastrous: violent vomiting, nosebleeds and headaches forced Zaftig into a week of bed rest. “Wrong genetics,” he had to admit to himself. He assumed the formula was a failure for humans, and lived in despair for weeks. Once recovered, he volunteered for trial his chief lab assistant, the meek, complicit, and nearly silent Dr. Irving. The injection nearly killed him. In sympathetic systems, it was as if evolution was sped up 10,000 years. P21 was capable of creating nothing less than jaw-dropping gigantism, coupled with glowing organic health, visually stunning physical perfection, astonishing strength, grace, speed, coordination, and renewed sexual energy. It only worked on X-Y heterogametic chromosome pairings – that is to say, on human males. Moreover, at this point in its development, it was successfully observed in very few subjects. Because of the necessary secrecy of the project, Zaftig lacked proper comparative controls, but by his estimation, he calculated P21 to be beneficial for only 1 out of every 1,000 men. However, for that one recipient, the sky was the limit. Zaftig finally saw the light on a subject for whom the formula might work when he met Rod Moster. That was in 2006. Moster was facing prison then, charged with manslaughter. Zaftig had heard all about the man’s prodigious muscularity, and got him the best defense money could buy. Moster served 1 year, and was released. Zaftig awaited him at the prison gates, ready to whisk him away to the Santa Rosa Mountains, to another kind of a prison, and yet one that Moster would soon relish. And so, in 2007, Rod Moster (soon to be Sergeant, USAC, hurriedly and secretly enlisted) became Project Herculaneum’s first official entrant. The already competition-trained superheavyweight bodybuilder Moster took to P21 like a duck to water – or, rather, like gasoline to fire. And Moster beat even Zaftig’s greatest expectations. Muscles bloomed on muscle. Strength quadrupled. Now that he had a perfectly responsive candidate, Zaftig was eager to find another. Later in 2007, another superheavyweight bodybuilder, the near-silent Turkish giant Abdul Karim, was discovered at Raw Weight, the hardcore San Jose gym owned by 50-year old retired pro bodybuilder legend Miles Donovan. Immediately whisked into the program, Moster and Karim trained like madmen in the Valhalla Labs compound, where a new gym was put into construction just for the two of them. They didn’t much like one another, but that led to heightened competition, tension, anger, and, inevitably, greater muscle growth. And now Zaftig could make some truly accurate notes on the success of P21 in sympathetic systems. Zaftig observed in his lab notes that it was as if the full assimilation of P21 triggered alterations in deep genetic timestamp coding. It was exactly as if the body suddenly redefined its male development to date as late ‘childhood’, and began to take itself into something like a new ‘adolescence’, blooming into a new definition of ‘adulthood’. Consequently, accompanied by proper training and consistent regulation of nutrition and rest cycles, muscular growth was not just enhanced; it was prompted into a supersonic explosion unlike anything Zaftig had anticipated. As intended in trial development, P21 was, in effect, nothing less than a miracle formula, successful beyond Zaftig’s wildest imaginings. He was still tinkering with it in the lab, however, in hopes that somehow he might find the key to more universal acceptance, including female development. The injected enzyme boosted performance, it seemed, only in those recipients whose natural dopamine and endorphin levels had already reached a certain high capacity, following either years of regular workouts, or a monitored high-intensity training in very young, genetically predisposed teens. Moreover, once on the enzyme and going forward, steroids, regular insulin injections, pain blockers, and growth hormone proved not only unnecessary, but also potentially dangerous. A protocol of P21 worked best on a naïve system, or, at the very least, a metabolism cleaned over time from the longtime effects of other injectables. Mental acuity was not diminished, but then again, it wasn’t improved, either. At first, Zaftig had been disappointed P21 didn’t produce intellectual giants as well, but in time he accepted it. After all, as long as subjects weren’t rendered newly stupid by the protocol, and followed orders, he accepted that it wasn’t really an issue. It was about muscles and strength, not smarts. More subjects were introduced into the program. By 2011, the men in the program included competitive bodybuilders Rene Lefevre, Herman Schumacher, Anthony Chad, Derek Washington, and William Obatu. Muscle monsters all at the outset, and mostly discovered by Miles Donovan, as each man moved into the compound and began the training and the protocols, their size and strength increased with rapid gains measureable almost daily. Most astonishingly, perhaps, was the measurable growth in each man’s height. Over time, all recipients grew anywhere from 2 to 5 inches taller. The skeletal structure itself was affected by regular injections of P21, and bones lengthened and thickened throughout each man’s body. The principal area of bone growth appeared to be in the legs, but even the arm bones slightly lengthened. A 6’-0” man with a finger-to-finger reach of 6’-3” before injections was gradually able to reach a length of 5 inches in addition to his newly gained height. The lengthened arms, of course, gave the men a slightly ape-like appearance, with the tips of their fingers now brushing the patella of each kneecap. However, the men did not become ungainly as a result, seemed to grow at the same time in natural grace and motor coordination. Muscular density almost doubled, strength nearly quadrupled, subcutaneous fat tissue was nearly eliminated. Muscular separations, ripples, cuts, and deep tissue striations appeared where before, even on a beautifully developed physique, there had been nothing but smoothness. Muscles roiled and bloomed with magnificent grace. Even symmetry improved; it was as if the muscular system had developed an over-all critical eye as to the proper balance and sweep necessary for each man to remain at optimum performance levels. Even so, with the loss of subcutaneous fat, waist size was stunningly diminished. Within six months of starting injections, a formerly 200 pound muscular man with a standard 34” waistline would find himself sporting a mere 30” at his midsection, with his rectus abdominus muscles and lower obliques newly reknit into interlocking, striated layers of shapely support musculature, easily able to carry the newly burgeoning upper body mass. His bodyweight would shoot up at least 20 pounds, all of it lean muscle mass. Fast-twitch and slow-twitch muscles were affected alike: a man on P21 was not only able to lift almost impossibly heavy weights, but run like the wind. Motor-nerve coordination profoundly improved. Endurance was beyond imagining. Although the subjects’ diets were kept clean, this appeared to have little effect one way or the other. As long as the men were regularly fed full meals six times a day, and drank a quotidian 3 gallons of water, then diet itself was moot. However, to maintain the psychological fiction that diet was still “important”, food selections were limited to lean meats, arrays of vegetables and proper complex carbs. The men held the “no veggies” diets of standard, “middle earth” bodybuilders in profound contempt. “If it’s green, it’s good,” was the mantra. With the six meals a day and the explosion of muscle growth, human waste products predictably doubled. The men seemed to require 30 minutes daily for proper excretion. Each man found himself pissing rivers of bright, clean urine. Happily, their digestion systems were as efficient as could be hoped for, and pleasure-filled howls filled the residence halls periodically as the men eagerly shat their meals. “A good shit is like great sex,” Obatu observed. Pissing was as pleasurable, for as powerful as their kidneys were, each man produced ropes of healthy white piss, like clockwork, 5 times a day. Their glowing prostate health allowed them to empty their bladders thoroughly with each resoundingly copious piss. A man on P21 would also exhibit astonishing skin health. Blemishes and scars faded to nothingness. The men’s complexions glowed as if powered by an inner laser. Hair health flourished, and though some of the men on the protocol preferred to shave their heads, it was not for a lack of healthy follicles. Even the bald Sergeant Schumacher, hairless as a wombat when he entered the program, was delighted to see his full head of hair restored within six months. Later, however, in response to other psychological effects, he chose to shave it off daily. Normal pain thresholds decreased proportionately. Sleep cycles were not affected. Over time, any already-accomplished athlete’s natural talents were likely to be exponentially sharpened. Newly recorded performance benchmarks surpassed any previous personal best. In short, the benefits were astounding - provided the recipient was initially genetically gifted to begin with, and had already achieved a certain performance level. Once P21 had been introduced into the system, after 3 years of weekly injections, Zaftig had discovered the protocol must be carefully monitored, and in some cases, stopped for periods of time. Not everyone developed at the same rate. Once the protocol was stopped, the successful manifesting effects enjoyed by the recipient to date would not be lost, but any continuing development would slow and finally stall. However, to avoid trauma, the project’s subjects weren’t informed of this, and several of the older men had been receiving intermittent placebos for years, in order to avoid a state of psychological withdrawal. More seriously, and although Zaftig was not yet certain of the veracity of his latest finding, he was keen to observe with a continued injection schedule, that the men’s aging processes seemed to stop entirely. This is the most sensitive of all the information he gathered, and the top-secret introduction of placebos disguised the anti-aging effects for the older men in the project. It was critical that this be kept a closely guarded secret. Was part of P21’s astonishing potential the end of natural aging? Zaftig was at war with himself on this point. As a scientist, he was elated. As a sympathetic human being, he was appalled. No one but he and the deeply trusted Dr. Irving were aware of indications that P21 was The Fountain of Youth. And just as P21 seemed to promise unending anti-aging, not all of the other developmental effects could be anticipated. Nor were they, in fact, terribly convenient. Its extraordinary properties included some rather startling, not to say unexpected, priapic side effects, which had first manifested themselves in the first guinea pig lab rat Sergeant Moster, nearly 15 years before. Since then, as new men successfully entered the project, different results were recorded for different recipients. All the same, universally P21 provided something like miraculous growth and enhancement for all who responded to it. Even now, in 2021, Zaftig could only guess how it might manifest itself in different subjects. Zaftig didn’t really want to deal with the complexity of the multiple sexual side effects. For there were surprising sexual benefits as well. After all, a physically evolving male always experiences a coinciding change in sexual stats and activity. What he had not anticipated was the dramatic extent of these changes. Zaftig discovered it not long after he first tried it out on Moster in 2007. The most observable immediate change was the startling increase in genital size. At the outset of his induction into the program, Rod Moster’s penis was already unusually large, looming forth when erect at a majestic 8 inches. While impressive on most men, all the same for a muscleman of Moster’s size and development, in appearance, it came off as merely average. All that changed once Moster entered the program. Six months after beginning the P21 protocol, even when flaccid, Moster’s penis measured just over 10 inches. When erect, it approached 16 inches. Midnight black, cobra-thick, and lightly laced with a cross section of interlocking capillaries shooting off from two pulsing central shaft veins, it had become a dangerous, dazzlingly beautiful machine. In fact, Moster’s penis had become a weapon. While he was delighted with his newly gargantuan cock, it presented him no end of trouble. For one thing, there was simply no hiding it in his clothing. His dress slacks uniform trousers had been custom-fitted to accommodate his massive quads, glutes, hamstrings and calves. Now, unless he wore specially designed rubber mesh briefs under his slacks that firmly restrained him, his slack member lay lazily on his quads, with muffled slapping against his thighs as he walked. The flies of all his clothing had to be forged from blue steel, and even so, were doubly reinforced to prevent bursting from the strain. Standard bodybuilding posing trunks were all but impossible if he wanted to remain covered; his cock and balls simply didn’t fit in any pouch. Most of the time, Moster chose to wear ultra-baggy sweats, with the sweatshirt hanging down to his thighs to cover the always-looming member. Otherwise, it was all just too distracting. Over time, Dr. Zaftig discovered that for all enrollees into the program, the size of the subject’s genitalia similarly grew to outlandishly large proportions. A man with average endowment was soon delighted to note that his organ, when flaccid, enlarged half again in length, girth, and stamina. A man considered ‘well hung’ at the outset would enjoy even greater growth. But that wasn’t all. Moster quickly realized a greater sexual appetite to match his newly achieved girth. Soon after injections began, normal societal behavioral blockers that prevent many men from acting on their fantasies all but vanished. Deeply buried sexual fantasies began to seem not merely attainable, but regularly actionable. Over time, the sexual activity of the subject became an all-pervasive cycle of, at first, increasing need, accompanied by a single-minded determination to fulfill the fantasy. Moreover, it was apparent that the recipients of P21 responded with particularly heightened sexual energy and passion to other recipients of the enzyme. So-called heterosexuality was no longer an issue: choice was abandoned. The men needed close supervision to keep their sexual activity confined to the proper hours, settings, and duration. And it took some doing to keep the men in line. Of course, any partner was possible for the men. As long as their muscles were the source of longing, they were eager to spread their copious seed in any number of ways, among any number of partners. Fortunately, a psychological fail-safe was built into the men’s newly ripening sexual psyches. The men were at their most vulnerable when presenting their muscularity to outsiders. Always able to leap into swift action, whether fighting, flexing, posing, Zaftig discovered after some carefully administered lab control tests that if the men were confronted with levels of apparent sexual unresponsiveness from observers, their sexual impulses were notably dampened. While their overall athletic, training, and bodybuilding prowess was never diminished, the translation of muscle energy into unfettered sexual energy did not occur unless observers explicitly expressed longing. In other words, the men needed to be sexually worshipped, gawked at, touched, stroked, admired and longed for in order to become aroused. They needed to flex their powerful biceps and rotate their mountainous quads for the stunned and appreciative. It was slightly ironic, therefore, that these astonishing physical specimens of undeniable Alpha males were, actually, subservient to the atmosphere of admiration. Indifference seemed to cow the men into silence and confusion – all except Sergeant Moster, of course, whose internal sexual battery was always on full charge levels. Fortunately, for the orderly continuation of Project Herculaneum, Sergeant Moster was aware of what he called “the Kryptonite effect” on his men. He could douse their sexual energy easily with a disparaging glance or an offhand comment. The small army of resident support staff, facilities associates, cafeteria and maintenance personnel, and office and lab workers were duly advised not to show any sexual interest in the men on any level. Zaftig himself was never troubled by the issue. Proud of his men, he nevertheless seemed to regard them as his “boys”, growing adolescent sons, in whom he had nothing but the purest parental love, devoid of any sexuality. Moster was more than well qualified to handle that job. Zaftig took a step back, promising himself that “some day” he’d approve a comprehensive study on P21 and sex. Over time, the psychological benefits had proved addictive. In other words, P21 was crack cocaine for bodybuilders. Any man receiving regular injections of P21 had to be handled with extreme care and caution, which necessitated a largely cloistered lifestyle. They were simply not ready for general public release. Nor was the public ready for them. To be continued.....
  7. I haven't posted a story in a while - here's my next offering, I hope it's enjoyable...I really loved writing it. There are three parts, all pretty much written so I might post some more later. Part 1 “Oh FUCK baby…give it to me,” Justin moaned. I looked down to watch my thick cock sliding in and out of my boyfriend-of-2-years’ tight ass. “Mmmm, you fucking slut,” I growled, picking up the pace, ramming my 8-inch cock in hard and fast, enjoying the sound of Justin’s breath catching in his throat as I did. We both LOVED fucking doggy style. I grabbed his hips with both hands, pulling him back onto my cock and looking down to see my flexed biceps bulging. Justin screamed with pleasure. “OH FUCK YEAH”. Sweat dripped from my heaving, swollen pecs down onto my defined abs. Still pounding Justin’s sexy ass, I ran one hand up his back, feeling him shiver to my touch, and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back hard. “Mmmmmmm YEAH,” Justin moaned, desperate. He loved it rough. “TAKE THIS THICK COCK SLUT BOY,” I roared, fucking him even harder. Justin gasped, moaning continuously and pushing his twink ass back onto my cock. “Breed me Daddy,” he begged. I was getting close. “Oh I will boy,” I grunted, pounding him like an animal rutting. I looked up at the mirror on the wardrobe opposite our bed. God we looked hot when we fucked. I brought one arm up, flexing my bicep as I hammered Justin’s ass hard. I loved the look of my swollen peak, veins mapped across the surface, the epitome of manliness. Justin loved it too – he looked up while we fucked and then reached down, starting to jerk his cock as he stared at my pumped bicep. “Mmmmm look at your fucking huge biceps,” he groaned, clearly close to cumming himself. The sight of my hot twink boyfriend jerking his cock to my muscular arms, pushed me over the edge. “FUCK BABE I’M GONNA CUM,” I roared, feeling the orgasm start to rise up from my swollen balls. “BREED YOUR BOY,” Justin moaned in response as I grabbed his hips again, thrusting my throbbing dick deep in him. With that, my thick cock swelled even more, pleasure ripping through my entire body and an animalistic scream escaping my mouth. Jets of cum shot from my cock and I looked down to see Justin writhing too in his own intense orgasm. It was always like this for us. “FUCK,” we both screamed over and over, bodies writhing. I collapsed forward, my hard cock still in Justin’s tight ass. I knew he liked the feel of me on top of him like this and heard him sigh in pleasure. We lay like that for several minutes as our powerful orgasms continued to subside, our rapid breathing starting to settle. “Right babe…I need to hit the shower,” I said, suddenly aware of the time – I couldn’t be late for work again. He tried to reply but no real words came out. I chuckled as I headed to the bathroom, pleased I could still fuck him into a sex coma. I turned on the shower and, as I waited for the water to heat up, I appreciated my reflection in the large mirror above the sink. I couldn’t deny I was pretty happy with what I saw. Pushing on for 35 and with a busy job that involved plenty of shift work I had to put in a lot of effort to stay in shape. A boyfriend 10 years younger than me certainly helped as motivation. I’d been hitting the gym 4 times a week for 15 years and I guess it showed. I liked how my slightly hairy pecs jutted out over my abs, still heaving from the exertion of the fuck. I liked the size of my arms – I couldn’t help pulling a double bicep flex and watching the symmetrical mounds of muscle bunch up tight. Impressive peaks for an amateur lifter. I liked my 8 pack abs and the “v” leading down to my thick, now soft, cock. And I fucking loved my quads – big and thick – just looking at them made me feel so strong. I quickly jumped in the shower, conscious that if I kept up this line of thought I’d be rock hard again and subsequently late for work. I let the warm water cascade over my worked-out body, totally relaxed from the amazing fuck session. Five minutes later, I was back in the bedroom, a towel wrapped around my waist. Justin had barely moved, other than to flip himself over so that he was now lying staring at the ceiling, his arms above his head. I couldn’t help letting out a deep moan as I took in the beauty lying in front of me. I loved his slim figure and smooth skin, still glistening with drops of sweat from his pounding. His cute boyish face was totally peaceful and a beautiful smile lightened his features as he opened his eyes to look at me. I ran a hand up his tight abs (Justin too kept himself in shape) and then tweaked his hot nipples causing him to shudder in response. “Don’t…” he moaned. “You’ll be late for work…”. A mischievous smile on his face. I knew he was right and headed over to the wardrobe to find my work clothes. “Erm…Dan?” Justin said a minute later, his hesitancy causing me to turn and take in the slight frown that had appeared on his face. “Yeah babe…what’s up?” I asked, pulling on my scrubs and walking over to sit next to him again. “I was just thinking…” Justin was never nervous. “Go on babe, spit it out,” I said kindly, stroking his short blond hair. “Well…could we…perhaps…try it the other way round next time?” he asked, immediately looking to the side to avoid my gaze. Ah. “Justin…we’ve talked about this. I just don’t think it would work babe,” I replied, full of love for him. “Why not Dan? You never tell me why…” he said, accusation in his voice. This conversation came up from time to time. At first, it had been natural that I’d be the one doing the fucking – Justin loved riding cock and I loved to give it. Recently though he’d been more questioning…why couldn’t we swap sometimes? It was getting more and more difficult to diffuse the situation… “It’s because of this isn’t it?” he questioned angrily, holding his cock in his hand. I was surprised at his directness and was too slow to deny the accusation. It didn’t help that there was truth in what he said – Justin was blessed with a cute face and fit body but his smaller-than-average cock had always been a sore point for him. I didn’t want the experience to be disappointing for either of us… “I knew it,” he barked, his normally beautiful features rearranged into a mask of anger and humiliation. “No Justin…it’s not that,” I replied, trying to placate him. It was not a total lie. There was something else contributing to my reluctance – I had to admit that I’d gotten used to being the “big spoon” in our relationship. It just worked for us. The idea of taking on a more submissive role would be hard to swallow and even harder to admit. “You’re lying,” he shouted, tears welling up in his eyes. “No babe…wait,” I pleaded as he jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I heard the lock click and knew it was too late to convince him otherwise.
  8. Hi everyone! Welcome to Chapter Three. This chapter came about a few days ago as I was working out with a friend of mine and we talked about body dysmorphic issues we both have with out bodies, and how we both see ourselves as the fat kids we used to be. I haven't been fat for a long time now... but I have trouble not thinking of myself that way. The transformation sequence in this chapter comes from what my friend said he would evolve into if he had to become what he really was deep down inside. I think he enjoyed telling me about it too much!! Enjoy!!!! The Test Chapter Three: Destruction Chad and Jacob emerged from the ether outside Chariots in Vauxhall. Jacob had never been to a gay sauna before, but as he gazed upward toward his friend, he could see that Chad was practically vibrating with excitement. - Can you feel it? Each man in there is calling out to me. As each one experiences lust, desire, orgasm, or experiences any form of sexual stimulation, it is like a call out to my soul. I can hardly control myself. It is taking every ounce of strength I have not to take you right here, Jacob. I need to be among them. Chad walked away from Jacob and approached the door. Without even touching it, the door swung open, and he stepped inside. Jacob ran after him, nervous to be alone. William who had passed out towels and charged the entrance fee at Chariots for seven years was bored with it all. He had seen everything and there were no surprises… that was until the wind blew the door open, and the man in skin tight leather pants strode in. He had to bend down to get his muscle mass through the door. It also looked as if the door suddenly stretched itself to allow the man into the room, but no doubt that illusion was only due to the sudden heat that filled the room. William was instantly hard… something that hadn’t happened in 24 years, and he waved the man through without asking either he or his small friend for the 20 pound entry fee. He must have been so enraptured by the mere sight of this God standing in his presence that as he walked away into the next room, it seemed as if the leather pants disintegrated from his body, and he was totally naked. I definitely need to get my eyesight checked, William thought as the man’s perfect ass and back disappeared from sight. William placed his hand on his erection, the hardest it had been since he was 15. Waves of intense horniness passed over him, and he could barely think straight. Fuck it, he thought as he got up from his stool, and followed the man in. He needed to be with him… worship him like the God he obviously was. The sound of sex was everywhere as Jacob and Chat entered the main room of the spa. Fog filled the air and the smell of poppers came from every directions. There appeared to be twenty men in the room. Some were fucking, some were observing, some were masturbating, and others were simply talking to each other while stroking their cocks. Chad observed his disciples with pride. With one thought, Chad closed his eyes and released his scent into every molecule of air. It traveled quickly throughout the room reaching each and every man. Silence quickly overtook it. One by one, each man slowly stopped whatever they were doing and walked over to Chad. At first, they only stared, afraid to touch him. Filled with his own uncontrollable desires, Jacob moved next to his friend and began to lick and clean the deep grooves between his abs. As if Jacob had singlehandedly broken the damn, every man began to touch Chad, caress him, lick him, kiss him, and even fuck him. Soon Chad was brought to the floor by the men so they could better pleasure him. Sill not satisfied, Chad called out for more worshipers. From miles away, men who were straight, gay, and questioning stopped what they were doing and made their way to Chariots. Three blocks away the local gay theatre company stopped performing their production of Beautiful Thing when nearly every member of the audience (five lesbians remained in their seats) stood up and left the auditorium with the group desire to worship Chad. Even the cast walked away from the stage and followed the audience to Chariots. Within one hour of Chad being there, hundreds of men filled the room. They each took turns fucking Chad and even trying to be fucked by him. A few dedicated fisters succeeding in having him slightly enter them, and were rewarded with the most intense orgasms they had ever had. Every inch of Chad was covered with men pleasing him. Soon he could not hold back, and he began to spray the populace with his seed. Each man took in as much as they could, enjoying the sweet ambrosia that flowed from his loins. Momentarily awaken from his sexual haze, Jacob could hear each man emanating a sound from deep within their souls. It was a word. - Eros! Eros! Eros! - Why are they saying that? - They know that is my name. - I thought it was Chad. - Chad was my human name. Eros is now the name I possess. A wave of sadness filled Jacob. He suddenly realized his friend was gone to him. Chad had never really needed him, but there had been a certain bond between them that had seemed special. Now that he was a God, Chad, or rather Eros, needed nobody. The God of Sex and Lust didn’t need a human wingman or hanger-on. Jacob began to separate himself from the group and walk away. Noticing his friend was gone, Chad turned and with his powerful hand, picked Jacob up and deposited him onto his massive chest. - You can still call me Chad. I’d like that. As hundreds of men brought pleasure to his body, Chad moved his large head toward Jacob. Without any supernatural influence, both men began to kiss… softly at first, and then filled with more passion. It was the best sensation either had ever felt, and Chad began to cum again. ************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ Chaos materialized outside the lab building close to the Jeep Jacob had driven to his house. How long ago that time seemed, and how pathetic his life had been then. He had been a man pretending to be a God… yet here he was… a God disguising himself as a man. He breathed in deeply and attempted to get the whereabouts of the one he could only describe as his ‘new-formed brother.’ As he attempted to locate he and Jacob, a psychic punch threw him backward onto the pavement. Something powerful was blocking him from learning their location. Sparks of lightening shot from his eyes. His desire was to kill every human in his path with one blow… but he attempted to control his craving. There must be another way. Chaos stood up, dusted himself off, and moved closer to the Jeep. Taking a deep breath, he took in its scent. From the sensory explosion in his mind, he knew this was indeed his brother’s vehicle. He could smell human sweat mixed with cologne mixed with sex coming from the machine. Images of the many men his new-formed brother had fucked flooded his mind, and Chaos grew angry. How easily this man had lived his human gay life. Men had fallen at his feet, and he took them for granted. He took is existence for granted. Simply out of spite, Chaos reached out to his ex-wire and caused her to stumble and injure her back. Chaos grinned as he saw this occur in his mind. She was the one who had idiotically gotten pregnant. She was the one that had demanded a second child. She was the one who had entrapped him in a marriage and life he couldn’t stand. Anger bubbled inside of him again, and he threw is ex into a second contraction of pain. He clenched his fist tight as he continued the agonizing pain pulsating through her body. When he felt she could handle no more, he continued for another minute before setting her free. Returning to the Jeep, Chaos flicked his forked tongue at it, receiving tiny chemical molecules of information. In moments, he knew the exact location his brother had been in prior to arriving at the lab. A gym. Of course it was. The hunt was on. Now the fun could begin. Dark mist swirled around the figure of Chaos, and he disappeared. ************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ Adrian Brooks shut off the foyer lights and turned the lock in the gym door. What had once been a massive old warehouse with immensely tall ceilings had been converted three years ago into a gym that catered to casual gym goers and muscle heads alike. Admiring the empty gym club, he admitted that this was his favorite time of the day. This was when he had the place and all of its machines all to himself, and he could work out in peace. All day he sat behind the desk welcoming patrons, answering questions, making smoothies, and cleaning white towels. The next two hours he had, working out on his own always made up for the prior eight. Adrian was a self-proclaimed gym rat, and he took no offence when people told him that he had only one real love: his body. It was a true. He took better care of his body then anyone he knew, and would rather work out then go to a pub any night. He hadn’t always been this way. Adrian had been a fat child, unhealthily attracted to chips and Coke over veg and water. Believing she was showering love on her only child, Adrian’s mother overfed him every chance she could. By fifteen, Adrian was severely overweight, had several health conditions including chronic anxiety, was bullied at school, and hand the lowest of self-esteems. One day in July two years ago, despising that he needed to hide his body behind baggy track pants and sweatshirts and couldn’t wear the shorts and skinny jeans he saw other men sporting, he decided to take his life into his hands. He began cooking his own healthy food, jogging little by little every day, and began reading up on current health and nutrition. In October of that same year, after loosing more than four stone, Adrian took his first step into a gym. With money he had saved from birthday’s and Christmases, he hired a personal trainer to show him the ropes. In no time at all he saw the faint outline of muscles replacing the fat that had once possessed his body. In a year and a half, Adrian was half the size he had been, proudly showing off his newborn pecs and biceps, and wearing the tightest clothes possible. When the front desk job at the gym became available, he jumped at it. The job meant working out for free and spending all of his time in a place he thought of as his second home. Now at age 20, Adrian stood before the mirror and flexed. He had come a long way, but still there was room for improvement. Removing his T-shirt, he focused on each muscle group, flexing in the mirror, and then judging and debating what he needed to do next to make them larger and more prominent. He knew he needed to shave his chest again. The light brown hair that coated his pecs and flowed down over his abs matched the hair on his head and stubble that had risen on his face today. Now that the gym was empty, he could do the one thing he had fallen in love with doing: working out in only a jock strap. Lifting without any clothes on allowed him to easily tune his mind with his body when he could clearly see the pump he was getting. When he opened his own gym one day, he would encourage this. Of course, it also sexual aroused him, but this was beside the point. Anything to do with muscle turned him on. He lived his life for muscle morning, noon, and night, and nothing would stop that. Adrian stacked the plates on the sleeves of the bar and began his set of bench presses with a cool 175. He completed 20 reps with this, and returned the bar to the catcher. He stood up and wet to load 25 more on each side when the lights in the gym began to flicker and go out. The emergency lights turned on, and the room was slightly illuminated, but mostly bathed in shadows. The temperature in the gym appeared to Adrian to also be rising, and he wondered if something was wrong with the Shoreditch powergrid. Beads of sweat began to emerge on his forehead and upper lip, so he reached for his towel and dried himself off. As he turned, he could see what appeared to be the air on his right ripple and bend. What could only be dismissed as an optical illusion or the sudden rise in temperature, Adrian leaned down and reached for his water bottle to cool off. - Could you be of some assistance? Adrian spit out some of his water, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the man speak. Looking to the shadows that bathed most of the space, he saw a man clothed all in black standing halfway across the room. - I’m sorry, mate. We’re closed. Adrian wanted to ask the man how he had gotten into the building, but he couldn’t help admiring the muscular physique he had. The man standing in front of him was simply immense with a size, that was practically unheard of. Most certainly a professional body builder, he thought, and a friend of the owner. He no doubt had his own key. That’s how he got in. Damn his size was monstrous. - I was just finishing locking up and going home myself. Thought I would get a quick chest workout in, but honestly, I’m knackered. I really should be getting home. Do you often work out here? I’ve been coming here for two years, but only started working here about six months ago. Adrian stopped talking because he knew he was just blathering on. The man dressed all in black simple stared at him and smiled. - No. I’ve never been here before. Though I doubt the equipment here could give me the pump I require. The man bounced his pecs for Adrian causing him to get slightly hard in his jock. Slowly the man walked closer to where Adrian was sitting, touching pieces of equipment as he passed. Each piece he touched suddenly rusted before Adrian’s eyes, and collapsed into a pile of dust on the floor. In shock, it took Adrian nearly twenty seconds of seeing this before he moved to run in the opposite direction. As he hoisted himself up to run into the locker room, his arms supernaturally turned completely to rubber, stretched, and distorted themselves around the bench press machine, tying themselves in a tight knot and forcing him to lie still on the bench. Although his arms were totally made of rubber now, the pain he could feel was agonizing, and any movement he made instigated the torment to rise. Closer and closer the man came until he stood right before Adrian. - You’re going to help me, aren’t you… little man? - What do you want? - Tell me who this is. The image of Chad developed in the mirror in front of Adrian. - That’s Chad. Chad Mitchell. - More. - He’s a trainer here. I think he’s worked here for a year now. - More. - I don’t really know any more. I swear. I don’t really know him. Chaos grinned and sat himself down on the bench as close to Adrian as the massive man could. With one figure, he began to stroke Adrians chest. For a moment Adrian was afraid he was going to touch him and he would disintegrate like the machines, but nothing happened. - More. - Ummm… he’s not a bad guy… he can be a bit of a jerk… kind of full of himself. - And have you ever seen this man? An image of Jacob took Chad’s place. - Yeah. That’s Jacob something or other. I don’t remember. They work out together. - Right. Chaos took his nail and began to run it over Adrian’s nipple. - And where do you think I could find Chad Mitchell. - I have no clue. I really don’t. I’m sorry. I really want to help, but he left hours ago. Chaos started flicking Adrian’s right nipple. - Hours ago? How many hours. - I don’t remember…it’s what… 9 now? I think he left at 5 or 6 Chaos continued to flick and play with Adrian’s right nipple. With lightening speed, Chaos squeezed his nipple tight sending shockwaves through Adrian. When he let go, milk abruptly started to pour from it. Chaos leaned over, and with his snake-like tongue lapped it up. - That is your fear leaking out of you… and it tastes delicious. - I want to help… please! Maybe he’s at XXL. He talks about going there a lot. Chaos grabbed the left nipple and proceeded to squeeze that one as well. Like the other, milk began to flow. Like a thirsty animal, Chaos continued to lap up the milk, his tongue burning Adrian as it touched his skin. - Please, God!! Please help me!! Chaos looked Adrian in the eyes and laughed. - The God you call on has abandoned you. Only Chaos remains. - Let me look in the files to find his address. I’m sure it has to be there. - Truthfully… the thought of my brother tires me at the moment. I’m suddenly much more engrossed in you at the moment. You taste so marvelous. You want to play some more with me… don’t you? Chaos rose to his feet and stood before Adrian. Mist whirled around the lowermost half of Chaos, and his black jeans and boots evaporated and in their place were two muscular horse legs and the most enormous hooves Adrian had ever seen. Chaos grabbed onto the hairy shaft that extended down the middle of his legs and began to stroke it, causing what was inside to elongate and harden. From within the shaft, Adrian could see a ginormous horse cock begin to emerge. - It’s time to play, Adrian. It’s time for you to play with Chaos. Without knowing how it happened, Adrian found the bench that had been supporting him had disappeared, and he was naked, and his arms were now tied to a metal rack, bending him over, ready for Chaos to fuck. An invisible finger began to play with Adrian’s hole, forcefully trying to open him up further. - Please, don’t! Please! I’ll do anything to help you! Anything!! Chaos stopped, frozen in place. He tried to lift his feet from the ground but found that he couldn’t. Even with all his strength and might, Chaos found himself immobile. Mist wrapped itself around his legs, and he was once again clothed in his tight black jeans and knee-high boots. Chaos screamed into the shadows of the empty room: - Who’s doing this? His scorpion tail tore through the ass of his jeans and swung wildly around behind him. Since he was facing away from Chaos, Adrian wasn’t sure what was occurring, but he could hear the loud sound of destruction the tail was making as it swung around, smashing into the mirror and overturning machines. - I have allowed you your little temper tantrums and show of dominance… but not it is my turn to display my power. See how… like a puppet... I control you. At the mere sound of Asarualimnunna’s voice ringing in his head, anger welled up in Chaos. - No one controls me! The tail swung and shattered another of the mirrors. - Quiet!!!! An invisible sword cut through Chaos’ tail, severing it from his body. With a heavy thud, it fell to the floor, twitching as if it were still alive, and then dissolving into a puddle of sludge. - I am your Creator! I control you! I have always controlled you! Say it to me now, or I shall snuff you out of existence. Through gritted teeth, Chaos spoke the dreaded words: - You are my creator. You control me. - Good. I will destroy you, Chaos though. I will destroy you. - Now, as you play with this human, Eros has gained nearly 150 worshipers. In his mind eye, Chaos could see Eros being worshipped from head to toe; each second more joined in the revelry. - You’ve disappointed me, Declan. I had such high hopes for you. Hearing his human name spoken by Asarualimnunna shamed Chaos down to his core… and enraged him. - Let me play the role of Creator then. Let me give you this human to help free you from your prison. Eros is doing nothing to help you. I am here to do your bidding. - Unfortunately, you have proven yourself untrustworthy. - Try me. If I fail you, then be my judge and executioner. Silence. Chaos wondered what Asarualimnunna’s decision would be. He received his answer when Adrian appeared standing in front of him. Adrian wasn’t sure what had happened and what had freed him from being raped by the man in black’s massive horse cock, but whoever did it, he was forever grateful. If only they would take him away from this psychopath. Adrian’s heart beat quickly as he saw the man in Black slowly begin to grow larger and larger, ripping through his clothes. His back snapped right below his Adonis belt as two massive horse legs grew to join the two already standing on the floor. The man’s torso grew longer and harrier, massive horns grew from his head, and a large scorpions tail swung from his hind end. When the transformation was complete, Adrian couldn’t believe what he was standing before. He had never seen something so incredible yet so filled with evil. - Look upon my true form, human. Larger and larger the creature grew until he towered feet above Adrian, his mighty horns nearly impaling the ceiling. - You have been chosen by Asarualimnunna and myself to take your place among the God’s. - Please let me go. - You beg for mercy when all I want to do is free you. I look within you and all I see is sadness. Let me be the father you never had. Let me give you the universe. Let me give you power beyond your wildest dreams. The words echoed in Adrian’s head. He wanted to close his ears so he couldn’t listen to the massive Centaur, but Chaos had a way of entering into his soul. - Tell me what you are. - Please - Tell me what you are. - I’m nothing. - That is not true. Look within yourself and tell me what you are. - I can’t. - Look at what I was. The image of a stern middle-aged man with grey thinning hair and with a half-way decent physique appeared before Adrian in the mirror. This was once the creature that stood before him, thought Adrian. This fairly average looking man was now so imposing, so regal, so god-like. - Simply from looking within, I discovered what I really was, and Chaos was born. Look within yourself. Look. Afraid of what he might see, Adrian looked within and saw himself at 16, fat and lazy. Hating this image, he tried to run from it but it engulfed him until it was all he could see. No, he thought. This isn’t me. Not anymore. As he fought his past, the image began to morph until it became what he was today. - What are you, son? - I’m muscle. - Yes. Look deeper. - I am strength. - Yes!! - I am muscle built upon muscle. - Continue! - I am perfection. I am stronger then any man who has entered this building. I tower over them. - Are you my soldier? - No…. I… I think I’m more. - I know you are… and now you must take your place. Through the many realms of existence, the birthplace of all supremacy began to glow, powering the gem stone. Rays of light shot from the gemstone in the laboratory and into the ether. Chaos felt it enter into his soul. Taking in Adrian as he stood there, Chaos released it through his eyes. The moment the beam hit him, Adrian feared every word he had said. - No! Please! I don’t want this! - You have looked within and admitted what you are. The power now fills you. Adrian felt every inch of his body start to slowly vibrate with a power that came from the God’s. He tried to fight it with all of his mental capacity, but found it harder and harder to concentrate on anything but his body. He was his body. He was muscle. What else did he need to be? Perhaps the man was right… - No!!! - Don’t fight destiny, Adrian! I can feel the power filling you, caressing you, embracing you. - You can’t have me. - I already do. Stop fighting me and become what you were always meant to be. Adrian fell to his knees. The energy that coursed through every cell of his body was quickly raising his temperature. Sweat poured out of every pore. Chaos flicked his tongue and enjoyed the scent emanating from Adrian. Any second now it will begin, he thought with a wicked smile. Any second I will have my first soldier. Adrian screamed out in agony. He opened his eyes but found it difficult to focus. When he closed them, all he saw were the visages of armies of muscular men… each larger then the other. They were calling to him. Join us, they said. Take your place among us. Adrian reached out his hand to touch the herculean image that had appeared in his mind’s eye and discovered that it was him. When the two hands met, his word exploded. The sound of bones shattering filled Chaos’ ears as Adrian cried out. Every bone in his body was cracking and becoming lengthier and denser. His spine began to elongate as both his legs and arms grew further from his core. The bones of his skull cracked and rearranged themselves as the skeleton underneath grew and refined itself. Adrian reached for his face, trying to hold it together, but found it difficult to control his elongating hands. Through the pain, he opened his eyes and gazed at himself in the mirror. He could no longer identify himself from the stretched out creature he saw revealed in the mirror. Minutes before he had only stood 5’6, but now he had to be nearing 6 feet. He tried to stand erect, but his feet were too long… everything about him was too long. Once again, he tried to stand, and found that with time he was able to balance himself. His head rose up past the mirror now and continued his journey. Through his fear, Adrian heard himself giggle. Once he was looked down upon by everyone… now he would stand above them all. He laughed again but was thrown off balance by his own body. He landed on his ass with a thud. Looking at himself in the mirror again it looked as if all of his hard gains had been stretched out over his body forcing him to look like a tall emaciated skeleton. He crawled to the mirror the best he could and looked at himself closer. The heat emanating from his core was slowly tanning his body to a golden brown. If he didn’t look so sickly skinny, he would have thought it was the healthiest he had ever looked in his life. As he continued to examine himself, the stretching stopped, and there was silence. Adrian slowly got to his feet and moved away from the mirror so he could see himself completely. From what he could guess, he had to be nearly 7 feet tall. His face had elongated and thinned drastically, and the nose that had been broken twice by his drunk father had repositioned itself into a perfect Roman configuration. His jaw was sharp and angular, and his lips had a slightly pouty look he had never had before. Due to the massive heat emanating from him, every single hair on his body had fallen out and now lay on the floor… even his eyebrows. His torso was incredibly extended, finishing with the longest and scrawniest legs and arms he had ever seen. Even his penis had elongated. It flopped down in front of him half way to his knees and was as thin as an earthworm. When he grabbed the disgusting thing with his skeletal hand, it could have easily encircled it several times. With terror in his eyes, Adrian looked to the man in Black. - What have you done to me? - Patience, my son. That was only the beginning. Chaos blinked, and the energy flowed from within him again, and into Adrian. Adrian was thrown back slightly, but he maintained his balance as he felt his body getting heavier and heavier with muscle mass. - I’m growing! Adrian relished in the feeling of his muscles multiplying on his body. Larger and thicker each muscle became. No longer did his legs look like sticks, but massive tree trunks with awe inspiring calves and quads. A light dusting of blonde hair began on his legs and spilled lightly up the newly formed cobblestone abs. One by one Adrian’s abs popped out firmer and thicker, the crevices between them growing deeper. Adrian lusted after this perfect six-pack that was appearing on his lower torso, and just when he thought he couldn’t get enough, two more appeared on top. An eight pack!! I can’t believe it, he thought!! His waist caved in deeper giving Adrian the most awe inspiring and physically illogical wasp body. His waist was a mere 32 inches and his chest erupted into a massive 58 inches. Adrian felt up his own chest, loving the pecs that had grown there and the deep crevice that had formed between them. As he touched his nipples, the areoles grew larger, darker, and more sensitive. Adrian’s lats spread out wide from his back, but his arms, which were hard and full, were long enough and in proportion to this incredible form that they still rested down on his sides. His neck became a wonderful column of muscle holding up a beautifully sculptured face. Muscle sculpted his face till it would remind one of a statue created with care by one of the masters. Blonde hair grew out of Adrian’s head, long and full, going down past his shoulders. The final organ to form on this perfect specimen of manly beauty was his penis. It grew thicker with a bulbous head. His pubic hair grew in blond as well, brushing the ball sack, which held two oranges in there, proving to the world how virile he now was. When the growth finally stopped, Adrian stood before the mirror in utter awe. He had never seen such a beautiful manly form as himself. Every inch was pure perfection. There was not a blemish nor a spot nor a mark on any part of his body. Hair grew in all of the “right” places, and every muscle was in impeccable proportion and symmetry. Perfect was all he could think of when he looked at himself. Adrian’s hands couldn’t stop touching every inch of his body. He looked to Chao’s and smiled. The Centaur looked down at him. - What do you think, my son? - I’m perfect. - Yes. - So beautiful… yet so manly. Adrian shook his hair and laughed as it fell around his shoulders. He looked again at the man in black and saw that he was smiling, but there was something dark in his eyes. Was he attracted to my new form, Adrian wondered? Now that he was larger he might be physically able to take the man’s cock, but did he want to? Not wanting to appear ungrateful for what he was given, Adrian approached the Centaur. - Thank you. Thank you so much! - Thank you… father. - Thank you, father. - Are you satisfied? - Yes!! Totally!! - Really? I’m just not sure I am yet. Maybe your pecs need to be bigger. Adrian’s pecs started to swell larger before his eyes. Rounder and fuller they grew. Pound upon pound was added to his pecs until they threatened to block his view of his lower body. - No. That’s not it. Maybe it’s your body hair I don’t like. Blonde hair began to sprout all over Adrian’s chest, getting fuller and bushier. The hair traveled down his abs, coating them but never covering them. - No! That isn’t it either!! Chaos looked deeply into Adrians eyes and smiled a wicked smile. - I know exactly what it is. The magnificently huge Centaur walked behind Adrian, and placed his hands on his shoulders. Gently… almost too gently… he turned Adrian so that he was once again looking at his reflection. - You looked within, but you wouldn’t look deep enough. You looked and saw only what society told you you should be. Just as you tried to build a body the world would love, you created this mask that is still covering the true you. You still want the world to love you, don’t you Adrian? - Of course. - I will teach you something now I learned long ago… the world will never love people like you and I. They despise us. They always have and they always will… until we force them to love us. Think of all of the people that have hurt you. Your father beat you, belittled you, broke your nose several times, and then abandoned you. Your mother’s affection only harmed you, and when bullies attacked you and made fun of you every day at school, what did anyone do? - Nothing. - Exactly. They allowed it to continue. It seemed they even welcomed it. Chaos continued to speak, evenly and intensely, and the words buried themselves deep within Adrian’s soul… slowly forming a bitter fruit there. - Even when you did something for yourself, lost weight, built a new body, did anyone notice? Did anyone really care? - No. - Did your life change for the better? - No A tear fell from Adrian’s right eye. - No. Even here… the place you love more than anywhere else in the world… does anyone really respect you? Treat you as an equal? They watch as you serve them and clean up their mess, but never really see you. People like Chad Mitchell will never really see you, will they? You asked him out once, didn’t you? - Yes. - When you had gathered the courage, convinced yourself that you were his equal, what did he do? - He told me no. He told me I was too young for him. - He laughed at you. Chaos conjured up the image of Adrian asking Chad out for coffee, and it appeared like a movie on the mirror. Chad thanked Adrian, told him he was flattered, but that Adrian was too young for him, that he should ask out someone his own age. Adrian, dejected walked away. Chad watched after him, and then started laughing. “As if!!!” Chad said to the departing figure. “You think you could touch this?!” Chad flexed his bicep in the mirror and licked it. “Fuckin fatties are always lusting after me. Hate it!” The image of Chad froze on the mirror. Tears fell freely from Adrian’s eyes. - They all laugh, Adrian… until you give them a reason not to. Look at me. No one will ever laugh at me again. I looked deep… deep within and I discovered what I was. Let me help you. Let me show you the way. You aren’t this, Adonis, are you? - I want to be. - Of course you do, but for the world it will never be enough. Let them truly see you, Adrian. Let them hear you. Let them fear you. - Yes… yes… They need to see me. - Exactly. - They all need to pay for what they’ve done. - They will, my son. I promise you. Now, look deep within. Is this really you? - No. - Tell me what you see. - Muscle. I am muscle upon muscle. - Yes. - Muscle creating dominance. - Yes. - Muscle creating supremacy! - Yes! - I’m bigger, more immense then anyone! They scream in terror and awe at the sight of me!! - Yes!! - The whole world fears me, for with one word I can bring upon their destruction. - YES!!!! - That is what I am. I am Destruction. Simply saying the word caused Adrian’s voice to fall several octaves, and caused Chaos’ loins to stir. The power build up once again inside of Chaos and shot out of both of his eyes and into Adrian. Knowing that more was needed, Chaos opened his mouth wide, and a beam of light emanated from it into Adrian as well Adrian screamed as all three rays hit him at once. Within moments, he was growing again. His legs exploded in size, becoming so freakishly muscular that he was forced to spread his legs as wide as they could go just so that he could continue standing… and still they continued to pack on muscle. His feet got larger and thicker, and his toes quadrupled in size in order to hold up the immeasurable mass of his legs. When it seemed that they could no longer balance such columns of muscle, they mutated, his immense big toes shifting down and more toward the middle of his feet, creating what could only be described as a massive hybrid of human and gorilla feet, enabling him more room for control and balance, and of course, growth. Just when he thought he couldn’t spread his legs any further, the pelvic bone of the man once known as Adrian split and dislocated, growing and reforming in order for his legs to gain more and more muscle mass. Enormous veins wove themselves over the surface of his legs trying desperately to feed the colossal quads and calves. The creature once known as Adrian felt only relief and pleasure as he let himself go and evolved into his true form. Gone was the Adonis belt as his abs grew bigger, thicker, heavier, and the grooves between them grew deeper. His stomach appeared to distend creating a powerful roid gut, accentuated by an impossibly jaw dropping 15 pack that grew on it. Adrian rubbed the cobblestones of his stomach wishing them greater and more enormous. Even the sight of his stomach must cause fear. Just thinking it caused more freakish abdominal muscles to grow until he possessed an unheard of 18 pack. The creature screamed out as his rib cage cracked and split, quadrupling in size, giving more room for his massive chest to grow… and grow it did. Pound upon pound of muscle deposited itself on his pecs forcing them to become rounder, fuller, and denser. The creature drooled, happy at no longer being able to see his lower half. Bigger, he thought. Make me mightier!!! Lost in the sensation of every muscle in his body growing out of control, Destruction grinned as he had difficulty lifting the heavy arms that were growing nearly as large and as veiny as his legs. With only lust and muscle in mind, he began to massage his pecs with his ginormous hands. As he massaged his pecs, the creature noticed that something was starting to force them slowly upward toward his chin. Moving his hands down, he discovered what felt like two more nipples emerging from the skin under his pecs. Squeezing them, he discovered that they were indeed two new sensitive nipples. With what sounded like an explosion erupting from his chest, another set of massive pecs burst out and formed under the original. Yes, he thought, pinching and rubbing the massive thumb sized nipples on his new pecs. If two are incredible, four are simply amazing!! The two newly grown pecs grew larger in size till Destruction’s torso was forced to begin stretching and growing upward again to form more room. Taller and taller he rose, growing closer to the high ceilings of the gym. He was thankful that this building had such high ceilings, but even more grateful that his body was creating more space to pack on more muscle. Destruction’s lateral muscles grew more gigantic, compelling his mammoth arms away from his side. When he did try to set his arms down against this side, he was not only prevented by his lat span, but by two large lumps that had formed two feet below his arm pits. Trying his best to look in the mirror as it got further away, he saw the lumps getting larger and larger, pulsating with a power from within. The pressure built up underneath them until they finally erupted like two volcanic pimples, forcing out two new colossal arms. Destruction roared as the two additional arms gained size to match their brothers. They were nearly impossible to control at first, moving as if they had a mind of their own, until he found that through some concentration, he was finally able to manipulate them himself. Still he continued to grow taller and more muscular. Never had Chaos seen such a specimen as this manifestation of all of the anger the man once called Adrian had held down for so long. Dark brown hair erupted all over Destruction’s body, coating his arms, legs, and chest in a thick carpet. The hair on his head turned a dark brown, and a thick beard began to grown on his face becoming fuller by the minute. Standing nearly 13 feet tall, Destruction continued to grow. The world would definitely see him now. The world would quake at his massive feet. As if fuelled further by this new found anger that had been released inside of him, Destruction continued to transform. An angry ripping sound came from Destructions body as foot long razor sharp horns angrily erupted from his elbows and his shoulder blades. Raising all four of his might hands in front of him as best he could, Destruction laughed as one by one he made a tight fist, and ten inch horns began to protrude and curve from each of his upper knuckles. With his two upper arms, he easily dragged the horns of his hands across the ceiling ripping it apart. Material fell around him, but this only caused Destruction to laugh, his voice now so deep that it sounded more like an unearthly grumble. Destruction roared again, his mouth growing larger as he did. Two more rows of sharp pointed teeth forced their way through his gums behind his original teeth, creating a terrifying shark-like mouth. Exuding so much heat from his own transformation, sweat began to pour down Destruction’s brown onto his face and chest. The burning of the salt water started to irritate his eyes, so to the best of his ability, he tried to brush it away, but he found it impossible to even touch his eyes with his bloated muscular arms. The more he tried to wipe the sweat away, the more appeared to fall. Chaos watched as the colossus tried in vain to stop the odd flow of sweat. Soon though, he realized it was not simply sweat, but appeared as if Destruction’s own flesh from his forehead was turning to liquid and pouring down his face and puddling around his eyes. The liquid soon started to solidify, and like clay, began building a wall in front of his eyes. - What’s happening to me??!! Stop this now! - I’m sorry, but it’s all simply out of my control. The flesh continued to flow, building up more and more in front of his eyes until it finally covered them completely. The creature, now blinded, roared and stomped around the room causing devastation all around him. Loosing his balance, the colossus fell to the floor. Chaos watched as the flesh smoothed itself out on his forehead until it looked as if he eyes had never been there at all. - It burns! It burns!! A primal roar came from deep within Destruction as his brow ridge distended further causing an oddly masculine Neanderthal look to overtook Destructions face. The skin below the ridge began to bubble and flex, and with a loud rip, one massive red eye opened in the middle of his forehead. Arching his back, Destruction roared again. Chaos watched with excitement as the four massive nipples ripped open as well creating four more additional red eyes. - Look upon me!! Look at what I am becoming!! Destruction got to his feet with a deep bellowing laugh. Chaos could feel all five eyes on him… staring deep into him. - I will be seen!! I will be feared!!! Would you like to see another trick, father. - Show me. Destruction reached his two bottom hands down and began stroking his immense penis. The more he stroked it with animalistic force, the more it grew. As he jerked it, the shaft grew thicker and thicker, quickly tripling in size. The head continued to grown larger and more bulbous as well, overtaking the shaft with how thick and long it was itself. The most erotic and sensual feeling began to emanate from the massive shaft. Smiling and looking directly into Chaos’ eyes, Destruction stopped what he was doing. Suddenly with one quick flick, he dug the horns of his right hand into the underbelly of his penis. The beast roared out, but the sound appeared more like pleasure then pain. A moment later, Destruction lifted his left, and dug those horns into the top of his penis. Chaos expected blood to start flowing, but all he could see was the flesh of the penis moving and puddling on its own like clay. A thick river of pre began to flow from the bulbous head soaking the floor. Flexing his might biceps, Destruction pulled his arms apart, and with a loud ripping sound, Destruction’s thick cock split in half. The clay-like skin quickly formed around it, and within moments, Destruction possessed two immense penises, both now dripping free flowing pre. - What do you think of your son now? The two penises continued to grow larger, standing at attention. Using two hands to stroke his penises and two hands to massage his basketball sized testicles, Destruction brought himself to the most forceful of orgasms. Cum rocketed from both shafts, covering the floor and shattering the mirror. Asarualimnunna smiled as the wall into the fifth realm cracked and he could easily slip through. Standing now at an immense sixteen feet and weighing thousands upon thousands of pounds of pure muscle, Destruction had finally been born. Angrily he began to tear the building apart, wanting to free himself from his prison. - Calm, my son!! Destruction did as his loving father requested. - There will be plenty of time for you to show yourself to the world. First, we must find another to join our army against the common enemy…Eros. We must build it before he is able to, and if my calculations are correct, only four more will be able to be born. Come with me. I think I know the next perfect candidate.
  9. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Raf asked as I stripped. "I have to. I plan to seduce Mesh and get him to forget your agreement." I answered handing Raf my shirt, "And to seduce him, I have to get massive." "You don't have to. I can live with being your slave, Miguel. I can even live with being his as well." Raf said as he folded my clothes, "But I don't know if I can share you with him." "Raf, it's you I love. And it is you I want as my lover and equal." I confided to him, "But there are two things stopping that. The first, you're a slave, I could accept that if it was your choice to be one rather than you being pressured into it. Second, as long as you are pumped up like this, we can't be equals. This would eventually cause problems later because you got to experience the fantasy we both share and I didn't. Besides, there's a part of you that wants to see me big and freaky like you are now." "Okay, I admit it. I want us both to be like this and fuck each other's brains out. But to share you with him when you're all big and freaky..." Raf moaned, "I don't know if I can stand it." "Easy, big fella." I cautioned him, "I promise you that you'll be my first. After that, it'll be like it has been the last few months. We both are free to see and bed other men. Neither of us really happy about it but the jobs require it. And that's what I think of this as. Just know that's it you that is my strength and it's you that I'm going to spent my life with. Just remember that." "Miguelino." Raf whispered as tears steamed down his face. Hearing his love-name for me, I knew then that my lover was back. But now was not the time for this. "Raf, wipe your face." I told him, "It's time for the show. Just hold on to our love and you'll make it. And remember, you're supposed to be my slave." "I'm already that in the most important way. If you have to do this, lets get it over with quick." Raf said as he wiped away the tears. I handed him the cylinder and we walk back across the locker room. As we headed back to the Room, I mentally prepared myself for the biggest sales campaign and con of my life. The door to Room opened and in we went. I just hoped Raf could play his part. Time to brace the dragon. "Alright, Gil, lets get big." I said when approached Mesh. "Yeah, time to get pumped." Mesh responded, "Mike, take your cylinder in there." Mesh pointed to a glass booth with pedestal inside. "Stud Raf." I commanded and held out my hand. Thankfully Raf played his part perfectly. "Your cylinder, Most Worthy Master." Raf said humbly as he handed me the cylinder. With the cylinder in hand, I stepped into the booth. I turned around and waited. Mesh pointed to the pedestal. Raf made a motion as if he putting something into the pedestal. I looked at the pedestal and saw an opening on the top. I put the cylinder into the opening and then looked back to them. Mesh indicated that I should place my hand in the opening on the side and I did so. A few seconds later, I felt an itching all over my hand. The doctor was busy beind his console, tapping away furiously. He reached behind him to flip a few switched on panel. Lights started flashing from the console. The doctor continued to tap away, every now and then he'd throw a switch on the panel behind him. Suddenly, all the lights on the console turned green. I watched all this activity in a nervous swaet. When will it start? What would feel like? Has it already started? I kept asking myself. The itching in my hand had stopped. Was that it? I didn't feel any different. Looking at Mesh and Raf, I saw that they were still waiting. When Mesh looked over to the doctor, Raf gave me a thumbs up. I caught the movement of Mesh's arm swinging down in a deliberate motion. I gasped involuntarily when it hit me. At first, it felt like I had jumped into an icy river but then a syrupy, sweet warmth flowed through my body. It was very erotic. Next was the pins and needles all over me, penetrating me. I could feel every part of my body very intently, feel how totally seductive it was. I didn't know it the time, being lost in the sensations, but the growth hadn't started yet. It announced itself very profoundly and flowed from muscle to muscle. The start felt like a great pump you'd get from working out with total intensity. The muscles all full and tight stretching the skin taut. Then the muscles began flexing hard and relaxing on their own, I couldn't move if I had wanted to and I didn't. An orgasm of pain and pleasure washed through me as each muscle flexed and an euphoric high followed as them relaxed. It went through each muscle rythmically and systematically until every muscle had been flexed and then it would pause and begin again. During the pauses, I caught my breath and began to feel the changes in my body, the increasing strength, the heaviness and fullness of the muscles and the feeling of growing mass and power. It was intoxicating, the world no longer existed outside of me. I don't know how long the process had been going on, seconds, minutes or even hours, when I got the first evidence of kind mass I was gaining. My lats pressed against my arms forcing up and out; my thighs pressed my knees and feet into wider stances; and during the pauses I could see the thick shelf of my pecs without tilting my head down. I could see how this could be addictive, I didn't want it to stop. But all too soon, it stopped. My vision cleared. I could feel the immensity of my body. I could feel the power and strength of my superhuman muscles I could feel the raw sexual and seductive aura ozzing from me. Damn, all these sensations were sending me reeling. I was losing control of myself. I looked about wildly trying to find something to anchor myself. My eyes found Raf's awe-strucked eyes. 'Raf. That's Raf there. Raf's my lover and I'm his. Yes.' I thought, focusing my mind, regaining control. I regained control of my senses. Looking at Raf, I saw he was kneeling and his 18" cock was fully hard, leaking a river of pre-cum. His arms hung loosely on his lats and his face a vision of rapture. Looking over to Mesh, I saw that his cock had ripped through his silk pants. He was still standing and breathing heavily as he stroked his cock. The hunger I saw before burnt fiercely in his eyes now and that hunger was directed at me. I pulled my hand out from the pedestal and looked at it. It looked like it was covered with the measels, tiny red spots all over my hand. Holding my hand up to light, I got a good look at my foearm. Shit! It was almost as big as most guys thighs and had really thick veins snaking across it. I brought up my right arm and found the same freaky muscle mass there as well. 'If my forearms were this big, how big was I?' I wondered. I had an urge to start flexing right there, just to catch a glimpse of this freaky muscled bod of mine. I fought the urge and started out of the booth. That first step sent a wave of orgasmic pleasure through me, the feel of my rolling wide around each other and brushing against each other at the mid-step was incredible. I forced myself to keep moving. It took six orgasmic steps to reach Mesh and Raf. I was half-hard when I stood in front of them. I felt something thick and wet impacting against my huge quads. When I looked down, I saw Raf that was cumming and his hands were at his sides. Then I felt a hard 'thrack' between my massive pecs. My cock was now fully hard and its head, the size of a large grapefruit, rose above the shelf of my pecs. I was about to grab hold of this majestic fuck-scepter when I heard an agonizing groan from Mesh. When I looked, I found that he had popped his cork as well. I had to see myelf. If I could make Raf shoot without touching himself, I had to been hot and huge. I looked around and spotted a mirror off to the side. Over at the mirror, it was my turn to be shocked and awed. I was beyond huge. Looking myself up and down, from the side, and what I could see of my back, I checked out each freaky muscle. Starting with my calves, or rather my bull elephants, out habit. Damn, I could rent them out to the MLB, they seemed to be that mammoth, even the flexors for my feet were massive. Next, my thighs, they had to be six feet arond each. The definition between each muscle must have been an inch deep. I was surprised that my legs didn't tear out of their sockets with each step. My package was breath taking. My cock was about two and half feet long and over a foot think with inch think veins snaking over it. My balls hung halfway to my knees. Each ball looked to be a foot in diameter. From what I could see of my ass, it made me wish I could fuck myself. Checking out my abs, I saw three inch crevices outlining my eight-pack, intercostals, serratus, and obliques. My pecs were mindblowing. Each pec was at least three feet across and over nine inches thick. My pecs were so thick that my nipples didn't point down, they pointed back towards my body. My delts held the impression of being able to topple maountains. Each head had to be six inches thick. My traps rose from my delts and disappeared somewhere near the top of my head. I could live with not being able to look over my shoulder. My arms were being pushed forward and lifted upwards by my mile wide lats. My arms rested at a sixty degree angle from my shoulders. My biceps were mountainous and I haven't even flexed them yet. I was about to start flexing to see how big these bastards could get when Raf placed his hand on my arm. "Miguel, please fuck me now." Raf pleaded, "I need to feel you inside me while you smother me with those wonderful muscles." It had beem over a month since the last time Raf and I had sex so his request sent me into sexual overdrive. Instead of speaking to him, I picked Raf up by his thick lats and pressed him against my hard cock where rode between his pecs and mine. Sliding him up along the length of my cock until our pecs were pressed firmly together, the head of my cock sat between our pecs. With Raf's face level to mine, I kissed him fiercely driving my tongue deep into his throat and he responded after a moment of surprise. I didn't realize unitl a short time later that I was now taller than Raf. I lowered Raf to the floor and soon had him on his back. Raf placed his feet under my pecs as I lowered my cock to line up with his hole. I traced the crack of his ass with my cock which sent shivers through Raf. I teased his hole by pressing the head of cock against it and then moved along his ass, Raf waited until I was pressing against his hole when he tweaked my nipples with his toes. This caused me plunge into Raf. It seemed foreplay was over. So, I began to slide further into Raf then pull back only to slide a little farther in. I continued this process until I was fully buried inside Raf. There, I rested, pressing my full weight on Raf. "OH MY GOD!" Raf panted, "YES! FUCK ME! FUCK ME, HARD!" Never one to disappoint a lover. "You got it, stud." I told him as pull back about a foot and drove into him with my full weight behind it. "YEAH! FUCK THAT ASS!" Raf snarled as I pounded his ass, "RIP ME OPEN WITH GIANT MUSCLECOCK! OH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, YEAH!" "Fuckin A'! Stud I'm just warmin' up." I grunted. I grabbed Raf's lats and stood up straight. Raf was pulled up into the air with half my cock still buried in his ass. I thrusted up and forward with my hips as I stopped holding Raf in the air. Raf gasped for air as my thrust and the force of gracity combined to drive my cock even deeper into him. Raf grabbed hold of my biceps to steady himself. With just the power of my hips and legs, I began to thrust up and forward continuously. Raf slid up and down a foot on my cock. Raf was panting and rambling as I gave him the fuck of his life. I varied the speed of my thrusts, faster and slower, to make this last as long as possible. Raf came violently, covering our pecs and abs. His ass spasmed around my cock almost causing me to cum as well. I held off but knew I was too close to hold off for long. I began to accelerate my thrusts faster and faster until my cock was burning inside Raf's ass. I couldn't hold off any more, I CAME. Raf was forced upwards for about six inches from the force of me shooting. I continued to shoot for several minutes. As my cock finished shooting, Raf slid down to its base, his whole body limp. I wrapped my arms around him and sank to my knees. Our hearts beating wildly, I laid us both on the floor to recover, my cock still hard and buried in Raf's ass. We remained there for several minutes. "Mighty, fine fucking display." Mesh said, "Can't wait 'til we're alnoe together, my giant stallion." Mesh, damn, I'd forgotten he was here. I raised myself up off Raf and looked over towards Mesh. I was shocked at what I saw. Not only had Mesh stripped out of his clothes and jerked off but Dr. Soong-Yang was standing there holding a video camera hold me and Raf. My first impulse was to rush the doc and smash the camera but that would interfer with my plans, besides I could get the tape later. I lowered myself down a little and whispered into Raf's ear, "It's show time again." I eased out Raf and his ass became a fountain of cum. My sex-crazed mind was clear now and I wondered how much damage I had caused Raf just now. Unfortunately, I counldn't show my concern. There was a job to do and it was time to do it. "Stud Raf, on your feet, NOW!" I commanded hating myself while doing so, "I did not gave you permission to cum." "S-s-s-sorry, M-m-master." Raf replied as stood unsteadily before me. "Too late for that." I growled at him, "Now, go clean yourself, thoroughly, and get back here and clean your mess off me and the floor. You'd best not make me wait too long and you'd better be clean, I shall inspect you thoroughly to be sure. NOW, MOVE!" Raf jumped and left the room. It was just the three of us now. I stood there waiting, silently. I was forcing Mesh to make the first move and commit himself. The doctor was a non-player in this game, all brains and science now, he hadn't even wondered why Mesh didn't use the process to match me. I knew why he didn't and knowing who he was, I knew why he was fixated on me. "You command like an the ancient warrior-kings." said Mesh appraisingly, "Just right touch of hard command mixed with soothing speak." "Self-made businessmen such as yourself and I are the modern day warrior-kings." I replied. "True." He said, "Never before have I met my match." He was trying to seduce me with flattery. As a salesman, I had run into quite a number of people who'd try to sweet talk their way into better deals so this particular track wouldn't work on me. I decided to play along. "I doubt that." I stated, "Certainly, there had to be one but since you are standing here, you must have brought him low." This comment disturbed him but he seemed to take it as an off-hand compliment. Further conversation was stopped as Raf returned. He sort of hobbled as he walked, carrying soap, water, and washclothes. I assumed the flexed 'relaxed' stance I've seen bodybuilders take during competitions. Under my breath, I told Raf to take his time and try to be erotic as possible. The look in eye told me that he was going to enjoy it. Raf soaped up the cloth. He began working on my pecs. After working up a good lather, ran the cloth acorss each pec then in circles around my nipples. He did this for quite some time, long enough to get me really horny again. When my hardening cock brushed against his quads, he began working his way down. But he didn't rush the washing of my abs, taking time to scrub each crevice. As he worked his way down to my crotch, I glanced over at Mesh and saw that our display was having the results I desired. Mesh was getting really hot and bothered. I had to breathe deep as Raf began soaping up my cock and balls. His loving attention brought me back to full hardness. Raf was doing his damnest to get me to shoot again, probably wanted to bathe me. I had to order him to finish the job. Raf rinsed me off, with his back to Mesh he silently asked 'later?' and I gave him a wink. Raf went to work cleaning the floor while I stretched seductively and arched my back. My hard cock remained vertical. Mesh was enthralled while the good doctor kept filming. I turned slowly as if I were looking around just to give Mesh a chance to see the full package. When my back was fully to Mesh, I stopped and made an audible 'um' as if a thought had just occurred to me. It was time for another piece of the plan to come into play. Again I started stretching, pretending to test my flexability to allay his doubts. I continued testing body parts until I got to my waist. There I made my stance wider and bent over pretending to touch my toes. Watching from between my legs, I saw Mesh's eyes bug out and his breathing get heavier. I moved over each leg as if I were totally unaware continuing the stretching routine. I finished stretching and continued to check out my surroundings, still maintaining the pretense. Raf had finished cleaning the floor by the time I got done baiting Mesh. I decided it was time for a show of strength and Raf would be the perfect one to help me demonstrate it. I called Raf over to me, telling him that it time for his inspection. Raf stood before and presented himself for inspection. I grabbed him by the waist and tossed him onto my shoulders then began inspecting his feet. I continued the inspection but instead of having Raf present the part of the body wanted to check, I moved or tossed him around as if he were a small boy until the area I wanted see was in view. Frightened at first, Raf soon began to enjoy this treatment. Then I recalled something I had read in a few stories, I moved Raf around until he sitting in my hands. I slid my right further underneath Raf until his tail bone sat in the palm of my hand. I, then, removed my left hand and began curling Raf with my right arm. Raf got hard at this display of strength and began leaking pre-cum again. I set Raf down after losing count somewhere around fifty. I had to Raf out of the room. "Stud Raf. You are not clean as I ordered." I growled at him, "Return to the showers. Wash yourself again and continue to wash until I get you. NOW, MOVE!" I watched Raf leave the room. He didn't need to see what was going to happen next, it would just hurt him. I turned my attention fully on Mesh. I strutted ove to Mesh, no I was more blatant and exaggerated than that. I flexed my muscles hard with each step, flaring my lats out to their widest point as stepped in front of him. "So, Gil." I said, "See anything you like?" "Everything looks great. Can't wait for the test drive." Mesh replied. Before Mesh could make his move, I made mine. I grabbed him by his arms and lifted him so that we were face-to-face. While Mesh was still surprised, I pressed him against me and kissed hard. It took him a few seconds to respond and respond he did. Mesh was like an animal, kissing me savagely. This was not simple passion or lust, it was two supremely masculine men striving for dominance over the other. We stayed that way for quite a while neither gaining the edge over the other. After what seemed an eternity, we broke apart, Mesh pushing away first. 'Score one for the hero.' I thought. "Damn, if you make me that hot by just kissing then fucking that ass of yours is going to be explosive." Mesh stated. Didn't think he'd roll over and play dead. Mesh still was trying to prove he was the alpha male here. Part one of my plan was working, his animal brain was in control. Time to put salt into the wound and up the ante. "Only if I fuck your ass first." I demanded. "Never! I fuck. I don't get fucked!" Mesh steamed. "Then, great warrior-king, you'll have to conquer me. So, unless I fuck you first, that is the only way you'll get my ass." I told him coldly, "Now, if will excuse me, I've some important matters to take careof." I turn and started walking away from him. Mesh stood there fuming, anger and lust boiled inside of him. He took the bait now to set the hook. "Where do you think you are going?" Mesh demanded in a deadly voice. "I'm going to check on MY slave to make sure he doesn't drown himself. I only bought him today and I would like to get more use out of him than just a single fuck." I said as went through the door leaving Mesh shaking in rage. I waited outside the door for a few moments and when Mesh didn't come storming through, I breathed a sigh of relief. I wanted Mesh hot, bathered and off balance, not a killing frenzy. Fighting for my life isn't what I'd call a successful seduction. Now, it was time to check on Raf. I walked back to the showers and found him lathered up and lovingly stroking himself. I leaned against the wall and admired his new muscled body. Even though I was bigger than Raf now, I still found him incredibly sexy. "Need a hand with that, stud?" I said to him. "What do you have in mind?" He asked breathing heavily. "Quite a number of things actually but we don't have time for all of them right now." I answered, "Do you remember Chet?" Raf and I had met Chet and his boyfriend, Brad, almost a year ago. Chet had a thing for Raf, more specifically Raf's ass. Chet considered himself a macho top, he believed tops only fuck and get sucked and never the other way around. But according to Brad, Chet secretly wanted to be on both sides, giving and receiving. Funny how people screw themselves with how they think things have to be. So, Raf and I basically ambushed Chet. Raf let Chet fuck him while I snuck in and fucked Chet when they were going at it. Chet fought hard at first but he began to enjoy it. After we came and cleaned up, I apologized to Chet for raping him and explained why. Fortunately, he understood and remained our friend. I believed we faced the same thing with Mesh as we did with Chet. That's why I brought up the subject. Unfortunately, with Mesh we were to have a bigger fight on our hands. "So, you're going to fuck Mesh while he fucks me." Raf replied also remembering that time. "No." I said, "You are going to fuck him." "Me?" Raf said in surprise, "Why me?" "Because it's my ass he wants so it has to be you." I replied, "We're going to be breaking several mindsets at once so this is going to be very dangerous. Even pumped up as we are now, we may not be able to finish this." "We can do it. We're bigger and stronger than he is. Plus, once we start, he'll give in." Raf said confidently. "We can only hope but be prepared for him to fight fiercely, anyway." I said. "So, what's the setup?" Raf asked. "Oh, you get to shove this up my ass." I told him as I grabbed his cock, "But, first, are you alright? I forgot how big I am now." "I'm fine." said Raf as he massaged my glutes, "I've been getting fisted for the last two weeks. You're not much bigger than the guy's arm." "Looks like you've got some stories to tell when we have more time." I said as I laid down on my back, "But, for now, fuck me." Raf's answer wasn't in words. Slipped down in between my legs and plunged his face between my cheeks. Raf soon had me squirming as he rimmed my ass with long muscle-tongue. My cock got hard and rested on my granite abs. My cockhead throbbed as nestled in the canyon of my pecs. Then Raf began tonguing my prostrate. It took a moment to realize just how much Raf had changed, his tongue had been long enough nor strong enough to reach my prostrate before. Raf stopped tonguing my ass and raised my legs as he got to his knees. "Ready to have your muscle-ass fucked? Cause here it comes." said Raf as pushed his cockhead into my ass. I had relaxed my ass muscles as much as I could to handle his, now, larger cock. I was surprised when he slipped in easily. I experimented a little and tighten uo my ass muscles a little. "Um, that's better." Raf cooed as I tighten up some more, "I know he's not hung as I am but I was afraid he had fucked you too loose for this to be really enjoyable." "We didn't fuck." I told him as continued give his cock little squeezes with my ass. "What? I thought that was why you sent me out." Raf responded as sank the rest of his cock into my ass. "Nope. I cock teased him and came to you." I said running my hands over his thick muscles, "I left him standing in a rage." "Surprised he come after you." Raf said as he began to slow fuck me. "He will. But lets have some fun before he gets here." I told him as I tweaked his left nipple. Raf gasped and then began to fuck me with long, slow strokes. You don't know what heaven is until you had at least 10 inches of hard throbbing cock rubbing against your prostrate. I pulled Raf's head down to mine and kissed him deeply. Raf kissed me back without missing a stroke. Soon Raf was pistoning in and out of my ass with pleasurable regularity. Just as we were starting to get real hot and heavy, Mesh made his presents known. "So. I have to conquer you but this slave can do you at any time." Mesh ranted, "We'll see about that!" Mesh rushed into the showers with a raging hard-on. He grabbed Raf's left arm and pulled him out of me then threw him back. He quick took Raf's position between my legs and plunged his cock into my ass. He began to fuck me with hard, violent thrusts. "I teach you to deny me. You're going to be my bitch." He ranted on. I saw Raf standing behind Mesh. It was time to hold Mesh down for Raf. I entwined my legs around Mesh's and pulled them wide, at the same I wrapped my arms around his torso and pressed him into my chest. To ensure his staying put, I clamped down hard on his cock with my ass muscles. Raf then did unto Mesh as he had done unto me. Mesh thrashed around like a madman. When he couldn't break free, he screamed out in a long dead language. His body began to vibrate and then his muscles began to grow. I yelled for Raf to hold on to him tight. He continued to grow until he was larger than Raf, his growth stopped shortly thereafter. His size was somewhere Raf and me. Again, he began to thrash about, trying to break free. It took all our combined strength but we held Mesh. I told Raf to start stroking slow. Mesh tried to resist but surrendered when I began sucking on his nipples and massaging his cock with my ass. Soon Mesh was enjoying it as was Raf and myself. I found from the bartender later that the sounds of our little orgy was clearly heard below and started an orgy there as well. Soon we all reached that joyfull and inescapable conclusion and we separated. "To be taken by a mere slave," Mesh moaned, "How can live with this?" "For one thing, Gil. Raf's not a slave, he's a man." I told Mesh, "Raf's my equal and lover, always has been and always will be." "Fine for you, you've got each other. I'm alone as always." Bemoaned Mesh. "You don't have to be." Raf said. "Yes, I do. I don't have an equal or a lover." Mesh responded. "You do, now." I replied. Both Raf and Mesh looked at me questionly. "Raf and I are lovers so in a sense we are one." I explained, "And tooked the two of us to take you so that means we're your equal. So, the three of us are equals." "That makes sense in a weird way." said Raf. "I grant that you are my equals but I am without a lover unless..." Mesh replied. "You guess it, my great warrior-king." I answered. "What?" Raf asked confusedly. "You know who I really am, don't you Mike?" Mesh asked staring at me accusingly. "Yes." I stated simply. "Miguel, who is this guy, anyway." Raf asked. "Raf, may I introduce to you." I said as I bowed grandly, "The great warrior-king, Gilgamesh the Warrior Eternal."
  10. geektofreek

    muscle-growth Dwarfed by Dad - PART 2

    Hey guys, thanks for the awesome feedback on the first chapter. Here's the second, once again, it was written on my phone, so please excuse the errors. Enjoy! READ PART 1 HERE DWARFED BY DAD PART 2/4 When he grabbed the same weights as me, the same 80-pound dumbbells off the rack, I knew, just like the old man said over breakfast, that he was going to totally outgrow me. But it wasn't going to happen in a week, or even a few days, it was going to happen in a matter of hours. Almost as if he was literally growing bigger by the minute, the second, a growth experiment gone wrong, only it was my father, and there was seemingly no end to his new found muscle lust... “You know what?” Dad suddenly chuckled under his breath. “I think these weights are to LIGHT!” My jaw dropped to the floor, watching him move his way up the rack, right to the bodybuilding coveted 100-dumbbells. As he picked each one up, his sleeveless and huge chiseled grandpa-looking arms suddenly surged in size, definitely bigger than my own, looking like some real bodybuilder, not just an amateur, but some professional title baring bodybuilding hunk, a definition of physical perfection I could only dream of achieving. “OH-fuck, does that feel GOOD!” Dad groaned out loud, all while the whole gym stared, shocked, as he somehow began picking up the pace. He wasn't slowing down like he should have, gritting his teeth, grossly snarling, as the veins in his musclebound and hairy grandpa-looking arms suddenly exploded to grotesque size. Then his biceps, the fat steak sized meat packed triceps, began to rumble, quake beneath his already tight translucent skin, like some ready to erupt volcano. Soon his arms didn't just look twenty-inches, but twenty-one inches, then twenty-two inches. The already obscenely tight sleeveless shirt squeezed tighter, then out of nowhere, impossibly, his indecently painted on gym shorts ballooned even bigger, strained around his bloated old man thighs, his groin, even the back his disgustingly swampy and global muscle man butt. “AW-Yeah, look at this PUMP I'm getting!” Dad roared, continuing his relentless pumping, rep after rep. “I'm looking HUGE!” *RIIIPPP* *RRIIIPPPPPP* “D-Dad, y-your shirt…” I whimpered in concern, in total dumbfounded disbelief, but of course, the old man couldn't have cared less. He stared at himself in the gym mirrors proudly, arrogantly, looking like his ego had exploded ten-fold, the pride of a young testosterone dripping teenager, marveling over the display of hulking muscle bulging destruction, happening right underneath one of his heaving hairy daddy-pecs. There was a small snicker, as he just kept on lifting, unapologetically even, staring right back at me, swinging the two massive weights around like it was a warm up, not stopping until the other side of his shirt unequivocally matched. *RIIPPPPPP* *RIIIIPPPPPPPPP* “HAHA, OH-God damn, would you just check out this PUMP!” *THUD, THUD* Dad set the two weights down on the ground, standing fully up, looking horrendously bigger, a lot bigger! We used to be pretty much eye level, but now, somehow, we weren't even close! The top of his burly bearded face and piercing blue grey eyes soared a couple inches over my own. And then there was the all that muscle, all those rippling layers of bulging new bodybuilder power. He turned to me almost immediately, with a giant smirk on his face, flexing one of his colossal and nearly sixty-year old arms, an absolutely monstrous and musky twenty-three inch hairy arm muscle, this peaking sweaty mountain of bicep, right in my jaw dropped face. “J-JESUS, d-dad!” I whimpered in humility. “I can BARELY breathe!” “GOD-damn, BOY!” Dad chuckled mockingly. “Your old man's BICEP is as big as your whole FACE!” “P-PLease… D-Dad…” I found struggle in my own words, to even breathe, burning red in the face from humiliation, as my dad just continually publically tortured me, feeling as if this eclipsing mountainous muscle stuffed against my face, would be my inevitable doom. But my father luckily pulled away, moving onto the display of his own meaty male muscle cleavage, his own massive hairy pectorals, the cinematic destruction of his workout shirt. You'd think the embarrassing spectacle would have been over, but it wasn't, far from it actually. “HAHA, never thought that I would have TITS bigger than most woman…” Dad joked looked down, relishing on the insane rolling view of his blimping silver chest. With the now insane measurements of his own chest, he nearly effortlessly, not even having to muster up half his strength, that mind-blowing muscle cleavage, to explode through the rest of his upper shirt fabric, huge pec after pec, fat nipple after nipple, suddenly unleashed. *SNAP, SNAP* *RIIIPPPPPPP* “OH-fuck yeah!” Dad bellowed. “W-WHOA, BRO!” Some random college jock approached my father. “You're like the HULK with those giant pecs!” “The HULK, huh!?” Dad responded with a grunt, a gigantic smirk, looking down at the marveling and significantly younger gym jock, having another lightbulb, a deliciously devilish idea, go off in his twisted head. He suddenly turned his stance, the strain of his clothes loudly audible as he walked, cracking and popping all the fabric like branches in a storm. The college aged stud gulped, trembled a bit, with his mouth dangling open, his eyes bulging out of his own sockets, as he came into sweaty view of my father's mammoth and ready to explode backside. It didn't take much more than simple movement, flaring out his grotesquely muscle engorged veiny arms to the side of his godly stance, placing his hands on his waist, right before everyone heard the first dramatic tear. *RIIIPPP* My dad couldn't help but chuckle once more, snicker even, his voice sounding even deeper then before, manlier, powerful. With one sudden and swift flex, the back of his sweaty bulging gym shirt was detonated, exploding all the pieces of sweaty grandpa-pungent fabric, right onto the jocks whimpering awestruck face. *POP, SNAP* *RIIIPPPPPPPPP* “H-HOLY-shit, bro!!!” The jock wailed in amazement, removing the destroyed fabric from off his dumbfounded face, the inside of his dangling mouth. “How's THAT for the HULK!?” Dad roared with arrogance, tilting his now bull-sized neck to the side, staring into the large gym floor mirrors reflection, seeing that tiny college jock stand behind him pathetically, like a little school girl, whimpering. Soon after, his two other jock-friends joined him shortly, absolutely losing themselves, as well, over the incredible live muscle devastation. One of the onlooking guys even had this pudgy boner, a pea-sized wet spot, tenting against his light gray gym shorts, totally fagging out. My dad couldn't have cared less, so power drunk off all the attention, he actually fed back into the three men’s queerness, rubbing one of his iron blistered hands right down the middle of his humongous muscular bodybuilding butthole. . “H-HEY man, I'm n-not GAY…” The main college stud whimpered, looking frantically around at his equally jaw-dropped friends, but of course, they all couldn't stop themselves from continuing to stare, drool for that matter. Dad, with an enormous grin plastered on his face, began slowly flexing his lower half, causing his totally titanic swampy old man muscle butt, those unbelievably pumped mammoth muscle thighs, to swell even bigger, just by just a single blink of his commanding power. The ready to blow gym shorts began splitting obscenely around the seams, first around his legs, then right down the center of his gigantic ballooning bodybuilder butthole. *RIIIPPPP* *RIIIPPPPPPP* “O-OH M-MY God!” The three jocks wailed. “FUCK-yeah!” Dad roared. “Just check out the size of those GLUTES, BOYS!” The old man confidentially roared, right as his shorts fell to the ground, leaving him almost completely naked, just his pair of shoes and the most rank sweaty briefs you had ever laid eyes on, so much grandpa-looking pubic hair spilling out the front of his briefs it was grotesque. But my dad continued to flex anyway, enjoying the whole mind boggling spectacle from his own reflection, maneuvering his nearly naked gigantic muscle man butt, even closer to the three whimpering and comparatively puny college jocks, bending over like it was some muscle porn show. “OH-man, he's S-SO fucking H-HUGE!” Another jock wailed like a girl, just as my dad’s tattered white slightly shit-stained grandpa-briefs began squeezing up between the enormous canyon of his own swampy ass crack, helplessly gobbled up, inch by inch, as if his ass was actually eating, leaving nothing more than an inch or two to cover himself from behind, barely anything in the front! “HAHA, looks like ALL my CLOTHES are about to go!” Dad roared with laughter, leaving those gym jocks speechless, in there own puddle of drool, two of them now, boning humiliatingly, stammering to strap their throbbing cock-shafts into the waistband of their gym shorts. As I looked around, out of the bubble of my disbelief, there was a whole crowd of people with their smartphones out, taking pictures, taking videos. Eventually we were asked to leave by the manager, but once again, my dad couldn't have cared less. He strut his huge and nearly naked, grotesquely hairy, old man physique, right out into the parking lot, right out into broad public daylight. He didn't even care about the clothes he left in the locker room, knowing, laughably, that they would no longer fit. “UN-fucking-believable!” Dad roared, adjusting his entirely horse-sized manhood beneath the wheel. “Did you SEE their faces!?” He continued boasting to me in the car, on the drive back to his place. As if things couldn't get any worse, when we got to a red light, about five minutes later driving, dad, besides continually fixing his out of control aroused musky-old man cock, began playfully flexing his now mammoth and hairy musclebound thighs, thirty-four inches each from the looks of it, right against the underside of the steering wheel, wondering if it was going to “POP OFF”, he kept on repeatedly joking. “D-DAD, don't break the car!” I whined worryingly. “Why NOT, son?” Dad chucked, no doubt mustering up another joke. “It'll just turn into good scrap-metal for me to LIFT!” He roared with laughter, raising, more like hauling, his colossal silver muscle arm over my comparatively small little head, still being at a red light, he began twisting and squeezing his power striations against the thin metal roof of his old Honda Civic. I watched looking up, with my mouth once again hanging wide open, seeing the metal actually warp and make the most god-awful groaning sound. *CRRREAKKKKKK* Dad just kept it though, even after the light turned green, flexing his huge skull-sized peaking hairy bicep relentlessly against of the ceiling of the car, almost like he was trying to blow the whole roof off. He giggled after about a minute, like some innocent little boy, playing with his new toy, three or four cars honking behind us, as he no doubt fantasized about another muscle destructing scenario. “HAHA, guess I better invest in a convertible…” Dad joked, smirking right at me, winking. He looked so stuffed into that tiny car already, it would have actually made sense. To think, when we had left the house this morning, he looked like a mere average bodybuilder, an old one, but now he was this total stage- ready competition-crushing muscle hunk, insatiable for more size, a desire to grow endlessly. The next two days were our off days, Saturday and Sunday. The whole situation had me absolutely biting my nails, sick to my stomach even, especially about the growing part. Even when I watch the videos online that people posted, “Huge Grandpa Growing”, over and over again, I just didn't understand how he was doing it, how this whole thing was even possible. Luckily, dad, wasn't to savvy with computers. “Morning, DAD!” I showed up to his house Monday morning, for our usual pre-workout breakfast. Usually the old man would be already cooking in the kitchen, but this morning, there was only these loud beastly grunts, emanating from the bathroom down the hall, the running shower. I know it was wrong of me, it was so wrong of me to even think it, but with an enormous gulp, I began, feeling intoxicated by the prospect, making my way down the long dark hallway, seeing the light at the end, the open bathroom doorway, a view of his naked figure after a long weekend. He was without a doubt jacking-off, the old-pervert still had it in him. As I turned the corner, even I had to cover my mouth from the loud escaping gasp about to be released, but it was tragically too late. “Is that YOU, son?” Dad’s voice bellowed. He was huge, monstrous, godly, a voice so deep, it vibrated my ear drums. The shadowed outline of his physique, this totally door-wide gigantic muscular backside, even through all the steam, I could tell, his shoulder width must have easily stretched up to four feet wide. Sitting below, two watermelon-sized glutes slammed against the steamed glass, the silhouette of these two tree-trunk sized legs, with nowhere to go, bloated and stuffed so largely together with muscle, it was a wonder how he could even move, how he even got into the shower in the first place. I knew I had to say something... “Y-Yeah…” I stuttered nervously, shaking, creeping out from behind the corner. “S-Should I start making us b-breakfast, Dad?” “SO glad you're here, squirt.” Dad blatantly ignored my question. “I need help WASHING my backside. There’s just TOO much muscle for me to move, HAHA!” My eyes bulged as he laughed, right out of my sockets, wanting to cover my ears from his tremendously deep voice, the loud thumping of the shower with each small movement of his no doubt gigantic feet. I couldn't believe what he was asking, what I was still seeing. We had seen each other naked tons of times, even when I was growing up as a kid, but this was different, this felt GAY! “U-Uh…” I stuttered, looking down at my bulging cock. “OH-come on, son! Don't be a QUEER about this.” Dad bellowed demeaningly. “Your DAD needs help.” He made it sound so serious, but I could hear that undertone, that snicker. I undressed anyway, knowing what was about to happen, whimpering at my misfortune. There was no going back from this... ******************************************** READ PART 3 HERE Comments are appreciated !
  11. * Now Complete * This chapter will start with a brief excerpt from JP EPISODE 21: THE SMILE: the last part of that chapter that takes place in July 2005. Then I will extrapolate events from there for this chapter. As always, any parts of the JP story are reproduced with permission from the author, as I mentioned in Chapters 1 and 2. Also, as always: the illustrated version of the Chapter can be found here: http://seanspictures.webs.com/andrewmeetsjppart3.htm It took the rest of the morning, but JP and I soon returned to our normal routine. I went over to his house for our daily workout and then we went running in a nearby park. The whole world felt different now that I had come out to my mom. She may only have been one person, but somehow, the weight on my shoulders was far easier to carry. Not only that, but it gave me another person to talk to. Although it would be awkward at first, eventually I knew that she would always be there for me. ================================================================================ Once Matt and JP arrived at Burke Lake Park near JP's house, they found their new friends Andrew, Mike and Carrie waiting for them in the parking lot. "Nice truck Andrew," JP said, admiring the sleek lines of Andrew's blue Dodge Ram Quad Cab. "Where did you get it?" he asked, as he stepped forward to shake Andrew's hand. "Thanks man," Andrew said, shaking his hand. "My dad bought it for me on my 17th birthday almost a year ago. That was right around the time he got promoted to Executive Vice-President, or Chief Operating Officer, of Harrington's Sports Suppliers." "Wow Andrew, your dad is the second-in-command of a big sports company?" JP asked in astonishment. "Yeah man, he's rich," Andrew bragged, revealing a slight hint of snobbishness that his friends had never seen before. "But then, after looking at the Fairfax County website, I realized that being rich is normal around here." "Yeah, but did you see the car I drove here?" JP asked his big friend, pointing to the green GTO behind him. He narrowed his eyes at Andrew: disapproving of his snobby attitude and added, "I was given my brother's old car as a hand-me-down! My parents didn't buy a brand new truck for me like your dad did for you!" "Actually, my truck is four years old; my dad bought it used, and I pay him monthly for it," Andrew corrected him with a smug grin. When he saw JP's look of disapproval fade into an approving grin, he laughed and added, "Did you really think I was that snobby and elitist JP? I guess I fooled you after all, didn't I?" "Yeah you did man," JP admitted with a sheepish grin. "See, you're not the only genius around here," Andrew reminded him, crossing his huge muscular arms over his massive chest. "My parents raised me to work for everything I have, including this impressive body of mine." He noticed JP smirking and added, "Now, we came here to work out our bodies, not just our minds JP. Are you ready?" "Yeah Andrew; how good are you at running laps?" "I do alright," Andrew replied modestly, realizing that JP hadn't seen much of his running since he usually played Centre. "Why do you ask? I thought we came here to throw my football around." "We'll do that later, and we'll also throw around my Navy Frisbee after we go swimming in the lake," JP promised him. "But first, there are a few miles of trails that go around the lake and through the woods. Matt and I tried them a week ago and we got quite a good aerobic workout that day." "You got more than I did JP, since you kept running for two more hours after I ran out of breath," Matt reminded him with an irritated look. "Yeah, but now I've found someone who can keep up with me," JP said with a smirk, revealing a hint of his old cocky attitude. "Yeah, I should be able to keep up with you, thanks these long massive legs of mine," Andrew predicted with a cocky smirk. He turned around and asked, "Are you coming with us Mike and Carrie?" Carrie was about to answer, but her jaw dropped in astonishment as Andrew peeled off his tight t-shirt. JP and Matt stared at Andrew's massively muscled torso in awe and more than a little fear. Mike, on the other hand, being just as big and muscular as Andrew, merely grinned with pride at the awesome build his mentor possessed. "Yes, we're coming with you Andrew," Mike replied. He began to peel off his skintight t-shirt and added, "I think I'll follow your lead and take off my t-shirt as well." It took a lot of effort and care for Mike to peel off his t-shirt without ripping it, but he disguised the difficulty of the task by plastering a cocky smirk on his face. This was designed to make his friends think that he was taking his t-shirt off really slowly in order to show off his massive muscles. Once Mike got his t-shirt off, he said, "There, that feels better; I was getting too hot." He grinned at the double meaning in his words, as he noticed Carrie staring at him with lust in her eyes and closed his eyes in pleasure as a cool breeze blew against his skin. "Oh yeah, that feels so good," he moaned, rubbing his massive pecs and eight-pack abs. "Stop showing off Mike!" Andrew laughed, though he was disguising his disapproval of his best friend's cockiness. "You're not the only muscle god around here you know!" Mike opened his eyes, but the first thing he saw was Matt and JP staring at him with their mouths open. "What's the matter guys: scared of my guns?" he asked, with a cocky smirk. He flexed his massive 24 inch biceps and added, "You'd better be, because they certainly don't fire blanks!" Andrew laughed at his protege's silly joke, while JP and Matt's looks of fear turned slowly into small grins. "Don't be scared guys, even though this is the first time you've seen our massive muscles in full daylight," Andrew advised them. He stepped forward to lay a massive hand on JP's shoulder, who only kept himself from recoiling in fear to look brave for Matt's sake. He couldn't keep his eyes from widening at the cords of muscle and the massive pulsing veins in Andrew's huge forearm. "We're all friends here," Andrew assured him, seeing the fear in his new friend's eyes. "You have nothing to worry about JP." "I'm not worried Andrew," JP bluffed, though he knew that Andrew could see the fear in his eyes. Andrew nodded knowingly: realizing that JP needed to keep up a brave and fearless image for the benefit of his boyfriend Matt. "I'm actually glad that you're a lot bigger than me or even my brother Ryan. If he was here and saw how big you are, he'd never make a dumb comment to me again!" "Don't tell him you're friends with me JP; I want to surprise him with that fact when I go on a recruiting visit to Virginia Tech this fall," Andrew ordered him. "What makes you think you'll see my brother Ryan on your recruiting visit?" JP asked, as he took off his t-shirt. He grinned smugly at Matt's look of lust and Carrie's look of astonishment. "Take off your t-shirt Matt; show off the body that Chrissy thought was so hot yesterday." Matt complied with JP's order and was pleased when his boyfriend gave him a wink of approval. Mike stepped up to him and said, "You're pretty ripped man, even though you're only half my size. I bet you could have taken that arrogant jerk who was bugging Chrissy if JP hadn't been there." Matt grinned at Mike's attempt to cheer him up, knowing that he wasn't even in his boyfriend's league as far as size and strength. While Matt and Mike were chatting, Andrew was informing JP that his recruiting visits that summer would be hosted by Red-Shirt Freshman. "I'm sure Ryan will fill the same role this fall, which should give me the chance to let him know that I'm good friends with you," Andrew informed him. He let a smug grin appear on his face as he rubbed his massive bicep and added, "He won't be so eager to cause you any more trouble once he realizes that you have such a huge muscular friend." "I hope you're right Andrew," JP said, secretly worried that seeing how big and strong Andrew was would motivate Ryan to become bigger and stronger himself. "It would be great if you could be the catalyst to repair my relationship with my big brother." "He's not your big brother; I am JP," Andrew teased him with a big grin. "He's just your older brother, which gives you the youth advantage." JP grinned back at Andrew, grateful as always that his huge muscular friend always knew how to cheer him up. "I don't mean to interrupt your bromance Andrew," Carrie teased him. Andrew glared at her with a twinkle in his eye and Carrie smirked back at him. "But I think that unlike you guys, I'll leave my t-shirt on. I'll certainly enjoy the view of your muscular bodies though," she added, sneaking a lustful look at JP. "The only muscles you get to enjoy seeing are mine Carrie," Andrew warned her with an angry glare. He reached out with one massive hand and gently, but firmly, turned her head back towards him. "I hate repeating myself, but in case no one got the message last night: you're my girlfriend and no one else's! Have you got that Carrie?" He loosened his grip on her chin just enough for her to give him a frightened nod. Andrew released his grip on her and turned to glare at the other three guys. "Has everyone got that message now?" he growled with clenched fists. "Yes we have Andrew," Mike replied, once he realized that Matt and JP were to scared to speak. He only felt a little nervous around Andrew's fierce temper, since he knew that Andrew had never hurt him in anger. He had an idea to ease the sudden tension and asked, "Hey Andrew, what do you call chest muscles on a rough ocean?" "I'm not going to guess Mike, just tell us," Andrew sighed with a small grin, recognizing Mike's tactic that always soothed his bad temper. "Bouncing pecs," Mike replied with a big grin, as he bounced his own pecs to demonstrate. Everyone laughed and the last traces of anger faded from Andrew's face. "Good one Mike; my turn." Mike nodded at Andrew to go ahead as JP led the group to the start of the trail around the lake. "What do you call arms that are lethal weapons?" "I have no idea Andrew; why don't you tell us?" Mike goaded him. "Loaded guns," Andrew replied with a cocky smirk, flexing his massive biceps. Everyone laughed as JP led them in a brisk jog down the first leg of the trail. "Okay one more," Mike promised them. "What do you use to wash your clothes when there's no washing machine handy?" "The lake?" JP guessed, pointing to their left where they could see Burke Lake through the breaks in the trees. "Nope, you use washboard abs," Mike replied, massaging his ripped eight-pack. Everyone laughed once again, shaking their heads at the silly, but cocky, puns of Mike and Andrew. For their part, Andrew and Mike were glad that their jokes had put everyone at ease, especially since they had seen Andrew's bad temper up close a few minutes ago. Andrew and Mike let JP and Matt lead the way down the trail, while Carrie followed behind them. As they ran, Andrew tried to think of a way he could let JP and Matt know that he knew their secret. He realized that only Mike could keep up with him, but then he also realized that Mike and Matt had spent a lot of time together with Carrie the night before. So Andrew just had to come up with an excuse to get JP alone, and Matt's earlier comment about being left alone while JP ran for two more hours popped up in his head. So, once Matt gets tired, then Mike and Carrie will wait with him back near the cars for JP and myself, Andrew realized. Then I can see just how far JP can run, since he won't be holding himself back to keep Matt from feeling bad. "So, will we take the trail all the way around the lake JP?" Andrew asked. "If you can keep up with me Andrew," JP teased him. "I wouldn't worry about Andrew keeping up with you, but we won't be able to JP," Matt reminded him. "Well, I'm not slowing down for you Matt; I have to keep in shape for wrestling next year," JP reminded him with a frown. "If Matt and Carrie get tired, I'll go back with them to the main part of the park," Mike offered, not letting on that he, like Andrew, would be able to keep up with JP with no trouble. "Thanks man, I'd appreciate that," Andrew said gratefully, pleased that he would soon be able to speak to JP alone. "You keep them company like last night and if any jerks try to start anything with Carrie, all you'll have to do is stand up to scare them away." Mike grinned at that idea and Andrew added, "I'm trusting you to keep an eye on Carrie when I'm not around Mike, as long as you don't try anything with her!" "Don't worry Andrew, I have enough internal discipline to comply with your orders to leave her alone in a social sense," Mike assured his big friend. A scary look of anger appeared on his face as he added, "But if anyone tries anything with her, we'll see how they like some external discipline thanks to my huge muscles!" Hopefully they won't like it like Matt would, JP thought suddenly with a smirk on his face. As he jogged effortlessly through the woods with Andrew and Mike beside him, he thought about how lucky he was to be spending this summer with his friends. Too bad Ryan couldn't be here, he thought to himself with a pang of regret. But perhaps Andrew's idea about revealing his friendship with me if he sees Ryan this fall will help me get back my relationship with my true big brother. "Hey JP, who is that Nick guy you were talking about just before we met last night?" Andrew asked him suddenly. "He's Chrissy's brother; you know: the girl you were about to save from those college jerks until I stepped in," JP replied. "I don't know if I thanked you for that yet." "Yeah you did JP, right after you asked me if I wanted a piece of you," Andrew reminded him with a steely glare. "That wasn't very polite of you, considering I was ready to defend Chrissy from those two jerks before you got there." "Sorry about that Andrew; I guess my mind was just clouded by rage," JP apologized. "Yeah, deflected rage at your brother," Andrew snapped, still mad at JP's rudeness when they'd first met. "If you ever feel you want to take me on, I'm right here!" "No thanks Andrew; at least not for real," JP assured him. "Your neck's so thick I don't think I could get my arm around it! And even if I could, it looks so hard and muscular I'd have no luck trying to choke you out!" "Keep that in mind Big Guy, just in case you think you're all that and then some," Andrew reminded him with a cocky smirk. "Shut up Andrew!"" JP laughed, throwing a punch at his big friend. Andrew still had his face turned towards him and JP's fist accidentally made contact with Andrew's jaw with a loud smack. "OWWW!" JP yelled, shaking out his sore hand. "I think I hurt myself!" "I didn't feel a thing," Andrew bragged. "Was that your best shot?" he asked, as they stopped at one of the path junctions. "No man," JP replied, massaging his sore hand. "But this is!" He suddenly lunged at Andrew, trying to pull his head down to get him in a choke hold. It seemed to be working at first, but then Andrew grabbed JP by the legs and hoisted him over his shoulders, breaking JP's grip on his neck in the process. Then Andrew grinned and extended his arms, holding JP up above his head with no effort. "Hold on tight JP; up and down you go!" Andrew laughed, as he began effortlessly shoulder-pressing JP. "Let me know when you've had enough!" After a couple of minutes, JP said, "Okay, that's enough Andrew. Put me down please." "Sure man, since you asked me nicely," Andrew said agreeably. He let JP down to his shoulders and then lowered him gently down to the ground. "There you go Big Guy: I put you down. Are you happy now?" "Yeah I am Andrew; thanks," JP said gratefully, feeling embarrassed that Andrew had so thoroughly dominated him. "Hey JP, how much can you bench?" Andrew asked him. "350," JP immediately replied, though it didn't seem as impressive as it had earlier in the week. "Good, then you should be able to bench-press me," Andrew realized. "I only weigh 305 so it should be easy for you." JP chuckled at Andrew's nonchalant way of saying that he 'only' weighed 305 pounds. "How do you do that Andrew?" JP asked in wonder. "Do what JP?" Andrew asked, as they jogged down a side path to look for a patch of grass to perform the human bench-press. "How do you make me feel better with just a few words?" JP asked him seriously. "Ryan would have tossed me to the ground and then kicked me in the gut for good measure if he had me above his shoulders!" "I've had lots of practice JP, mentoring little guys like you," Andrew replied, missing JP's look of anger at being called little. "As for your brother, are you sure he'd fight dirty like that?" "You don't know him like I do Andrew; in fact, you've never even met him!" JP snapped. "So believe me when I tell you: if I ever get him in a chokehold, I won't let up until I choke him out!" "I believe you JP," Andrew said seriously, as they entered a small grassy clearing in the woods. As their friends followed them onto the grass, Andrew added, "Get the digital camera ready Mike: I think we're about to witness history!" "Are you sure about this Andrew; won't you find it embarrassing being bench-pressed by someone who you outweigh by over 100 pounds of solid muscle?" JP asked him seriously. "I'm trying to make you feel better by showing you how strong you really are, and how you have nothing to fear from me," Andrew assured him. He motioned JP to lie down and added, "As you don't tag me in the balls by accident, everything will be fine." Carrie burst out laughing and Andrew shot a quick glare at her to keep her quiet, so that JP wouldn't figure out that they knew about him and Matt. JP lay down on the grass and extended his arms. Andrew carefully positioned himself lengthwise so JP's hands were on his chest and thighs. "Okay JP: let's go," Andrew said. "How many do you think you can do?" "I'll go for five reps," JP replied, slowly lowering Andrew down to his chest. He raised his arms with some effort, slowly lifting Andrew up until his arms locked at full extension. "So far so good Andrew: let's go for two!" JP yelled in excitement. He bench-pressed Andrew four more times before he had to signal Andrew to stand up. "Whew! That was a great chest workout Andrew!" JP panted, accepting Andrew's outstretched hand which pulled him to his feet effortlessly. "I knew you could do it JP," Andrew congratulated him, slapping him gently on the shoulder. "Good job Big Guy." "Thanks Andrew," JP said, smiling gratefully up at his mentor. "Can we start running again?" "After you shoulder-press me JP, just to be sure that you can handle a big guy like me," Andrew replied. "You do know how to pick someone up in a Fireman's Carry, don't you?" "Yeah, my dad taught me," JP replied, screwing up his face in determination. He was nervous about shoulder-pressing over 300 pounds, but then he remembered that he had just bench-pressed that same amount: five times! And I have my whole body to help me this time, so it should be easy! he suddenly realized. "Bring it on Andrew: I'm ready!" "That's it Big Guy," Andrew said, stepping closer and bending down so that JP could grab his legs and free arm. "Let's see what you've got! Go for ten reps!" JP grabbed Andrew around the legs and slowly straightened up, getting Andrew squarely across his shoulders. Then he adjusted his grip and began shoulder-pressing Andrew up and down. He grinned as he performed the first five reps easily, noticing Mike and Matt taking his picture. The next five reps were more difficult, but JP just gritted his teeth in determination and forced himself through them. Then he carefully let Andrew back down to the ground again; panting and massaging his sore chest and shoulders. "Great job JP," Andrew congratulated him, shaking his hand instead of slapping his sore shoulders. "I knew you could do it!" JP grinned as he tried to catch his breath. Andrew motioned the others back to the trail and stepped closer to JP until he was looming over him. He bent down so that only JP could hear him and whispered, "Now you know that you can take on Ryan with no problem, so don't worry about him anymore JP." "Thanks Andrew, I owe you Big Guy," JP said gratefully, now that he had his breath back. As they jogged back onto the path, he added, "You're a really great mentor." "I've had lots of practice JP and I'd be glad to pass on some tips so that you'll be ready to mentor Nick in about six weeks," Andrew offered. "That would be great Andrew, because Nick won't be the only wrestling hopeful I'll be mentoring at wrestling camp next month," JP said gratefully. "Well, I do know how to mentor two guys at once: I did it with my teammates Ralph and Connor two years ago," Andrew said modestly. He smiled as he remembered developing his two proteges into star football players by Grade 11. "Since they will be the starting quarterback and wide receiver respectively this season, it seems I did alright training them for high school football. We won the District Championship last season and this season we're going to win the Provincial Title!" "Wow Andrew, that's really impressive," JP congratulated his huge friend. "What about Mike here? Did you train him as well?" "Yeah man," Andrew replied with a smug grin. "Tell him how small you were when I first started training you almost seven years ago Mike." "5 foot even and 80 pounds," Mike replied sheepishly, feeling embarrassed that he had ever been that small. "You were about the same size as Nick is now," JP realized, glad that Chrissy had told him her brother's stats. "And look at you now: 305 pounds of solid muscle!" "And I stand 6 foot 6, so I loom over you just like Andrew does," Mike chuckled. He lifted JP up by his waist, even as they were still jogging down the path. "I'm the big man in this group, and don't you forget it!" JP's eyes narrowed in anger and he was about to punch Mike in the face when Andrew said, "Put him down Mike; I let him shoulder-press me to make him feel better and you're ruining it by lifting him up like a rag doll!" Mike stopped jogging, set JP down and went to ruffle his hair, but JP knocked his arm away swiftly. "Don't you even think of trying to touch me without my permission man, or I'll rip your arm off!" he growled in fury. "Whoa JP, calm down!" Andrew urged him, clamping a massive hand on JP's sore shoulder to hold him back as he lunged at Mike. JP winced and Andrew switched his iron grip to his arm instead. "Sorry about that man, but don't start anything with Mike: he's just as strong as I am and he could wipe the floor with you!" JP glared at Andrew over his shoulder, realizing that all of Andrew's efforts to make him feel better had just been ruined. "I think it's time our two group separated now," Matt suddenly suggested. "Why don't I take Carrie and Mike back to the cars while you and JP run some more until he calms down Andrew." "Good idea Matt; see you soon I hope," Andrew said, smiling at him. Matt grinned back and led Mike and Carrie back down the trail, but not before Mike gave JP one last smirk over his shoulder. Andrew frowned and shook his head until Mike's smirk vanished and then turned around to see JP glaring at him with clenched fists. "Go ahead JP, punch me in the face again," Andrew sighed. "I deserve it for being too late to stop Mike from lifting you up." JP hesitated suddenly; no longer wanting to punch Andrew now that he had his permission and slightly afraid of making his huge friend angry. "No it's okay Andrew," JP assured him, letting out a huge sigh and un-clenching his fists. "It's kind of my fault too, not just Mike's. To me, he was acting just like Ryan and I projected my anger at Ryan onto him." "Yeah you did JP and it would not have been amusing if you had tried to rip his arm off," Andrew warned him. "Even if you got a grip on his arm, he would have just lifted you off the ground effortlessly and given you an F-Five or something." "Just like Brock Lesnar would," JP realized with sudden understanding. "You never told me that you were a wrestling fan Andrew." "You never asked, but I know some wrestling moves too," Andrew said soberly. He looked at his watch and added, "But we've gotten way off topic and while we're alone now, it didn't happen the way quite the way I wanted it to." "Why did you want to be alone with me Andrew?" JP asked, feeling slightly nervous now that he was suddenly alone in the woods with such a huge muscular guy. "Not for anything sinister JP, so don't worry," Andrew assured him with a gentle smile. JP let out a sigh of relief and the fear slowly left his face. "You don't have to act so tough all the time JP; I know you're scared of how huge and strong I am," Andrew said, letting the smile fade from his face. "Yes I am Andrew; you told me yesterday that you could bench 800 pounds!" JP shouted in astonishment. "Is that a one rep max or a working weight?" "It was a one rep max and that's the literal truth because I haven't been able to do it again," Andrew replied. As they began jogging down the path again, he added, "My working weight is about 700 pounds for five reps." "That's over twice your weight Andrew and four times mine!" JP shouted in astonishment. "That's why your arms are so big and muscular!" "Yeah I was really happy the day my pythons got bigger than the Hulkster's," Andrew laughed. He flexed a massive bicep and kissed it softly before saying, "These puppies are sick but they don't need a vet!" "But anyone who gets in their way is going to need a hospital!" JP predicted, laughing at the cocky smirk on Andrew's face. "Thanks JP, I wasn't sure how to finish that bicep pun," Andrew said gratefully. "No problem Big Guy," JP said, patting Andrew on the shoulder. "That's 'Huge Guy' to you, Little Man," Andrew growled in mock fury. When he saw JP's eyes narrow in anger, he laughed and assured him, "I was just kidding man: you've got to learn how to take a joke!" "I know that Andrew, but I was just reminded of Ryan once again," JP sighed in frustration. "You're obsessed with your brother JP, but there's someone else you should be thinking about instead of him," Andrew advised him, recognizing his opening. When JP looked at him questioningly, Andrew added, "I'm talking about Matt; it's obvious that you love him man." "Yeah, like a big brother, which Ryan should have been," JP stated, hoping that Andrew hadn't seen Matt staring at him longingly during the fireworks the night before. "He's really filled a void in my life." "Just like Carrie did for me when we fell in love," Andrew said, finally deciding to state the obvious. JP's jaw dropped and a look of panic suddenly appeared in his eyes. "Don't worry man, I'm not grossed out or anything; don't forget: my country legalized same-sex marriage two years ago," Andrew assured him. "It's not that Andrew, but thanks for not being weirded-out," JP said gratefully. "It's just that Matt came out to his mom this morning about him and me dating and though she had already figured it out, it was still really uncomfortable when Matt told her. She's the only one who knows; I haven't even come out to my parents yet." "And I can't imagine that you'll ever come out to Ryan," Andrew realized, unable to even imagine how violent Ryan's reaction would be if he found out that his little brother was gay. "My lips are sealed man; I won't tell anyone, because Carrie already figured it out." "Do you think now that Matt's come out to his mom, he's going to tell Mike?" JP asked with a worried look on his face. "I don't think so and Carrie won't either, since she waited until she was alone with me to tell me that she knew about you and Matt," Andrew assured him. "But you might want to take Matt aside later and let him know that Carrie and I know about you two," he added. "It's only fair to him." "That's a good idea Andrew; thanks for thinking of that," JP said gratefully. As they got close to the parking lot with their cars in it, he reached up to Andrew's massive shoulder and squeezed it gently. "You're a really great guy Andrew and I'm glad that you've agreed to be my Honorary Big Brother." "I'll always be here for you JP and even for your protégé Nick, once I get to meet him of course," Andrew promised him. "Once I get to meet him in mid-August, I'll introduce you to him when we meet again," JP promised him. As they jogged within view of their friends, he asked Andrew, "Have we talked enough for one afternoon Big Guy? Are you ready for some football and Frisbee now?" "Yeah man; I have my Miami football in my backpack and I think I see Matt holding your Navy Frisbee," Andrew replied. "But before we begin, I think you and Mike should apologize to each other, so that there won't be any more trouble between you two." "Good idea man," JP said, switching back into the cocky jock he pretended to be when he was in a crowd. He stepped right up to Mike, no longer intimidated by his huge size, and held out his hand. "I'm sorry I got so mad at you earlier Mike: I was just projecting angry thoughts about my brother Ryan onto you." "Apology accepted JP," Mike assured him, gripping JP's hand gently in his huge meaty paw. "I owe you an apology as well, for acting just like Ryan probably does." "He hasn't put his hands on me for years, but he does act superior to me, just like you did earlier," JP realized. "But I accept your apology Mike and I can tell that you're not embarrassed to apologize to someone you outweigh by over 100 pounds of solid muscle!" "130 pounds to be exact, but what's a few dozen pounds between friends?" Mike asked him with a cocky smirk. "Funny man!" JP laughed, taking his Navy Frisbee out of his bag and throwing it at Mike's head. His eyes widened as Mike caught it quickly, with just one hand, and then fired it quickly back at JP. JP had to do a cartwheel to catch it, but the force of the throw knocked him off his feet. Mike started laughing but then his eyes widened as JP quickly rolled through the fall and back to his feet. "Most impressive Big Guy," Mike commended him. "I can see why you're such a threat on the wrestling mat." "Yeah man," JP said with a cocky smirk. "You may have caught me off guard before, but just try to lift me off the ground again! Next time I'll be ready for you!" "I'm sure you will JP," Mike assured him with an encouraging grin. "I can see why you're a District Finalist and next season you'll win Districts and then the State Championship in high school wrestling!" JP grinned with gratitude as he threw the Navy Frisbee back to Mike and their friends smiled in relief: pleased that JP's obsession with his brother Ryan was slowly fading into the background, at least for the time being. * THIS CHAPTER IS NOW CONCLUDED * Hope you enjoyed, I mean LIKED, it. LOL (Seriously though, thank you for the three likes so far). Coming soon: - Andrew and his friends meet JP's parents and Matt's mom for supper. - Their parents discuss what kind of influence Andrew and his friends will be on their sons.
  12. londonboy

    m/m The Twist

    (I realize this might not be everyone's cup of tea, but stay with it - you might enjoy the ending.) He had his brutish face next to mine – close enough that the rough whiskers of his day-old beard were scratching my neck as he whispered in my ear. Stiff bristles scraping in a way that made the hair on my arms tingle and my toes curl. “The sound of bones breaking makes me cum every time. It’s such an incredible turn-on – destroying someone with my bare hands. Care to find out, squirt?” He squeezed my body tighter and I let out a muffled cry – partly because of pain, but mostly because he crushed the sound out of me. Two of his thick fingers were shoved down my throat and it prevented me from breathing normally - that and the fact that his other huge arm was wrapped around my mid-section compressing my body like I was nothing more than a tube of toothpaste. It felt like my spine was about to snap in two, but he didn’t care and his arm drew in harder, like a giant belt tightening around a tiny delicate waist. “God, I’d love to hear your backbone pop like a heavy two-by-four being broken apart between my big hands. I bet your own cock would gush real hard even as your body sent messages of intense pain to your brain. You’d have the best orgasm of your life and then your body would go limp – unable to ever feel anything again. I could break you so easily, little man.” The apelike power-lifter flexed his huge biceps harder against my ribcage and it immediately felt like I was pinned against the wall that was his chest by the front end of a big truck. To add more insult to his unyielding domination he bit at my neck with his teeth, making sure to clamp down hard enough to leave marks that would surely stay for days. I thought about how crazy it would be to be snapped in two, unable to move afterwards, and have intense teeth indentions up and down your neck. Whoever found me would probably attribute my demise to some powerful vampire who had lost his fangs. “Listen to you gasp for breath, puny one. That makes my balls churn out tons more hot jizz than normal, which pumps hard into my growing cock like lava swelling up from deep inside the earth. Yeah, feel how your tight little ass twitches at the idea that the big fat log pressing up against you right now hasn’t even reached its full size. I doubt that cock of yours will actually be able to outlast your spine. I bet your bones shatter before you even get a chance to spew, but my own dick will unload so much he-man cum inside your body that you’ll gain five pounds on the spot. I wonder if I shoved my rod far enough up into you that I’d actually feel my giant arm squeezing the bulbous tip as I break you in two. That would add a little more umph to my eruption – knowing I speared you like a human shish-kabob!” I figured if the big man didn’t actually end up cracking me to pieces I would definitely require the help of a chiropractor over many visits to get my back into some semblance of its original alignment. I was like a flimsy toothpick on the verge of splintering in this man’s thickly muscled arm and he knew it. Dark spots were starting to form in my eyes and I accepted that everything would be going completely black pretty soon – either from unconsciousness or death. I tried to suck in some air, but his arm was just too powerful. He was applying pressure on my body that you’d usually reserve for bulldozers, a herd of elephants ramming into a small tree, or those machines that smash cars into little boxes. One pleasurable part of being compressed like a discarded crumpled Kleenex was that the guy’s enormous hard cock was slammed against my ass crack so tightly that I got a glimpse of what it would be like to be plowed by his huge member. That was truly keeping me alert for a lot longer than either of us expected – the feeling of his huge tool prying my cheeks apart as his powerful gun pull so tightly that my torso was beginning to feel almost paper thin. “I should so finish you, dweeb, but I’m not done having fun with your little body. There are so many other bones that could be broken before snapping your back.” Suddenly, the big arm released me and my oxygen-deprived frame fell to the ground – a blob of gasping frailty. It was good to be alive, but I immediately missed his powerful arm showing off its strength and his huge teasing cock ramming into me. I couldn’t move – at all. At first I thought it was because I was paralyzed – that he had actually broken my spine - but then I realized it was actually because his giant foot was pressing against my lower back and ass. An equally impressive size-16 shoe had replaced his huge piece of meat and I loved the feeling it gave, just as much. I couldn’t have pushed my body up from the floor for anything in the world. The pressure from his humongous leg pushing down through his foot was ten times greater than that of his enormous arm. I suddenly realized I’d be a goner in mere minutes – his foot easily smashing my body to smithereens. “Oh god . . . fuck yeah . . . feel how my giant foot squishes your pathetic body against the floor. I’m barely putting any pressure on you and you couldn’t move to save your life. You’re nothing but a little cheaply made toy ready for me to destroy it with no effort at all. Oh fuck . . . that . . . gets me . . . so . . . hot.” I didn’t understand his staccato patterned speech until I felt the giant foot rocking back and forth roughly against my back and ass. It suddenly dawned on me that the big man was busy pounding his meat. I could hear his fist flying up and down on his hard shaft – the guy was intensely turned on simply because his massive foot was stomping me like a bug. His breathing was now so hard that I could actually feel wafts of what seemed like hot air blowing against my back as he exhaled – and his head was over six feet from my body. He was a bull blowing steam while it charged. The pressure from his foot was beyond unbearable. I could feel my body starting to be compressed into something that would eventually be unrecognizable. Pain seemed to be taking over every part of my being – even the pieces that weren’t under being crushed. “I . . . unh . . . unh . . . could so . . . oh fuck . . . squish you . . . unh . . . unh . . . like a . . . fucking . . . ant!” My back began to make crackling sounds like some kind of children’s cereal. I was ready for total submission – the dreaded ending - and then the intense pressure suddenly stopped. My body still ached unbelievably but I could tell that something important had caused the big man to pull his foot slightly away. That’s when I heard and felt the spattering of something thick and warm hitting my back, neck, ass, and head. The huge dude was shooting off like some large gaudy fountain in a Roman piazza. I felt like I was caught in a torrential thunderstorm where huge hot raindrops were smacking hard – everywhere - around me and on me. The loud howl released from the giant beast, coupled with the waterfall of cum, caused me to suddenly shoot off like a cannon, as well. My weakened body was not too destroyed to blast out an eruption to match that of the dominator above me. My ass shot up off the floor as my stomach sucked powerfully inward so my cock could spew forth a tsunami of thick juice. I cried out forcefully, as well, but my animalistic growl sounded like a purring kitten compared to the big man’s ear-splitting orgasmic moan. Pellets of his dense-as-a-milkshake cum continued to whack down around me long after my body finished ejaculating. It seemed that even this man’s semen was much more robust than mine – as if orgasms were proof of our size difference, as well. Finally, the bull’s breathing returned to something close to normal – for a beast as big as him, that is - and his giant foot nudged my side roughly. “Go get yourself cleaned up, punk. It’s your lucky day. I spared your weak little bones the fate of being crushed into fine dust. I’m feeling generous.” I kind of painfully half-slithered half-crawled to the bathroom down the hall – and washed off my abused body, amazed at the amount of dried he-man paste that plastered my back. The semen seemed hard as cement as I tried to scrub it off – another bizarre testimony to the man’s virility. I could see bruises starting to form across my chest, ribcage, and back. I also knew I’d be sore for a few weeks. When I came back into the living room the big dude was already chugging down his third beer – still standing huge and nude at the bar, which snaked proudly from a corner of the room. He was one of the biggest and thickest thugs I’d ever seen – with arms that resembled beer kegs and a chest with enough hard meat that I was only able to get my arms halfway around his body when we hugged. He turned his face toward me as I walked in and I was again struck by the fact that the guy was brutishly handsome – in the same way some people found pit bulls cute. When he spoke it was louder than he needed to be – as if he couldn’t control his voice the same way he couldn’t control his muscles. “How much do I owe you?” “A thousand.” “You are worth every penny, dude. You’re simply amazing.” “I told you you’d like the foot thing, big man. I knew it would get you off.” “How do you know me so well?” “It’s my job to know what makes my clients happy.” “I wish you’d let me be your only client. You know I don’t like sharing you.” “Not this again, bruiser. You know I hate it when you start talking this way.” I was over by the chair now – using it for balancing as I put on my shoes. He was staring at me in that puppy dog way I knew so well and was absent-mindedly stroking his still semi-hard cock, probably re-living the intense fun we had just had in this very room. “Can I see you again tomorrow, honey?” “I don’t know, big man. I’m starting to think you’re getting obsessed.” Suddenly, he was on the floor in front of me – down on his knees with his big hands latched around my now loafered feet and he was kissing both shoes wildly. I rolled my eyes at what had come to be a regular post-ejaculation plea. “Oh please. I’ll do anything. I’ll pay anything. I’ve never gotten off this much in my entire life. You make me the happiest guy in the world. I need you, man. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t see you. If I’m obsessed it’s only because you’re the hottest thing ever. Please say yes to tomorrow night. We can go to dinner anywhere you want. I’ll even send the car to pick you up. I need you so much.” The beast at my feet was one of the strongest men in the world. It was official. He had trophies along one wall of this room in his penthouse to prove it. I’d watched him lift cars and big round stones, pull big trucks, hoist huge logs above his head, and a lot more on television numerous times. He’d always text me to let me know when he would be ‘performing just for me’ – as he liked to put it - and then he’d sign off by sending five or six smiling faces blowing kisses. He also told me to watch for when he’d reach down and blatantly adjust his big package – that was his secret message just for me and he did it every time he competed. This was his way of saying hello. I usually got quizzed about it after the show had aired – as if he were checking to make sure I had been watching. Some of the announcers on sports channels had started calling this particular moment ‘The Grab’ and many bloggers had started posting gifs of the big guy doing it over and over. This action seemed to make him more popular than any other strongman in history. “Get up off the floor. It’s unflattering. You’re acting like a love-struck elementary schoolgirl. You can pull sixteen wheelers the length of football fields, for goodness sake. We’ve talked about how unbecoming this is. If you want me to keep coming over, big man, you’ve got to get ahold of yourself. You need to act like the huge man you are.” “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m so scared of losing you.” He stood up and towered over me. His thick body oozed strength and masculinity and, yet, he was head-over-heels in love with me and that fact seemed to zap every ounce of testosterone that existed in bulging muscles. I had been able to get him to play a certain part when we were roleplaying during sex – and he had gotten really good at it – but most of the time he frantically worried that I might stop caring for him. I had tried to get him to act like the back breaking, foot stomping dominator all the time, but he couldn’t do it. He wanted to be that guy who opened doors for me, showered me with gifts, held my hand in public, and even begged me to wear matching shirts. It was a little disconcerting seeing such a behemoth cowering at your feet. I needed his attitude to match the outside package – even if just for a few minutes. “Flex for me.” He shot his huge arms immediately into a double biceps pose. My wilted cock rocketed hard in my jeans as quickly as his thick guns sprang upward with what could only be called menacing power. The dude was simply huge behind comprehension. Even his hands were massive to the point where people always said they were morphed in pictures – and yet there had been absolutely no alteration. I took him through a litany of memorized esteem boosters – a praxis of muscledom, if you will, to help him be the man I wanted him to be. “Who are you?” “I’m your colossal beast.” “And what do you do?” “Anything I want to.” “And who am I?” “My plaything.” These statements were not emitted in the bone-chilling growl he used mere minutes ago when he showered me with his cum – an eruption produced simply because he could have destroyed me with one foot. No, these answers were spoken as if he were a child trying to please a teacher. The tone of his voice and his internal demeanor was in direct conflict to the enormous guns flexing powerfully beside his much-higher-than-my head. I marveled for a few seconds at the disconnect – here was a man that could snap me in two with little effort, actually break my bones into little pieces, but his eyes and his aura were groveling for my affirmation. He was desperate for my approval - my love. I stared at his gorgeous massive body and was tempted to entice him back into a brief sexual scene where he’d dutifully play the role of a pornographic Hercules ready to rip me apart with no more energy than what is used for an afterthought. It was so tempting to have him become monster again – just to please me. There were, however, other tricks to be had that evening. There was more money to be made. “At ease, beast, at ease. I’ll let you know about tomorrow night. Maybe I can squeeze a couple of hours in with you – that is, if you promise to not throw down all this wimpy ‘I need you’ crap. Can’t you try to be the beast even when we’re not roleplaying?” “I . . . I want to . . . for you, man, but . . . it’s just too difficult. I really do need you. I . . . I love you.” “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What have I told you about letting that phrase flow across your lips so easily? You’d have us checking out china patterns tomorrow morning if it was your decision. That phrase is a sure sign it’s time for me to go. I’ll text you tomorrow afternoon, big guy. And do not – I repeat – do not start sending me love messages the second I step out of this condo. I mean it. You wait for me to text you tomorrow afternoon. That will be your sign that I am awake and ready to respond to all your bullshit. You understand me, beast?” “Yes . . . sir. Can I . . . ask . . . uh . . . one favor, though. Will you . . . um, please text me that you’ve gotten home safely?” I stood there dumbfounded by the fact that a guy who could probably smash through thin concrete walls if he really wanted to would be sheepishly asking me to let him know I had driven a short fifteen minutes on one-in-the-morning empty streets. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d probably see two more guys before the sun came up, so I did what I always did. I placated the guy. “Okay, I’ll text you when I’m home – but you’re only allowed one ‘sweet dreams’ reply after that. I mean it. You hear me, beast?” He nodded his head. I was at the door but he beat me opening it – as he always did. His need to please me, to take care of me was even more powerful than all of his huge muscles combined. He had now fallen into a ‘what will I do without you for the next twenty hours’ silence, which I had gotten used to. I stepped into the hallway and turned to look toward him. I needed my last image to be that of the Beast, not the love-sick puppy.. “Right arm” He immediately flexed the humongous gun hard – as if his life depended on it. It was a magnificent display of masculinity and strength. I shook my head a little. I was baffled by the fact that someone who could toss my entire body around as easily as most people bounced a beach ball in their hand could be so desperate for my affection. His arm clearly looked like it should – like it possessed the power I knew it did. It was wild to know that his strong gun could easily break my bones into tiny fragments and, yet, it would never ever cross this guy’s mind to actually hurt me. He simply played a role because I ordered it, because I knew it would help him get off. I turned and walked toward the elevator, knowing the massive beast-puppy was following – like a giant shadow thrown behind me by the bright lamp in the hallway.
  13. HerrDoom

    A Friend's Confession

    So, I was talking with my friend the other day. She is a very direct girl, who doesn’t hold any secrets - perfectly blunt, in every way - and she is like that when she approaches men. She can afford to be because she is 26 years old, average height for a girl, intelligent, funny and hot - the full package. I will not name her here. One day, at a gym that she frequents with her boyfriend, with whom she is in an open relationship, she decides to approach this incredibly handsome guy, who also is a devoted gym-goer. He too seemed oh-so-very much like a good deal. Young, witty, but also very tall (198 cm, or 6'6 in retard units) and, clearly, quite strong. Through her telling, my friend recalled the ease with which he did pull-ups. This is his Instagram pic, I was told. At some point my friend started up conversations with the guy, whose name is Philip, she tells me, and through the weeks of getting together at the gym and through Facebook comments, she saw that she has a lot in common with Philip, especially when it comes to their preferences for genres in movies and books. She also noticed that he is into her. One day, they decide to get together after the gym. With my friend there is no beating around the bush. They went straight to his place - no dates, no romantic walks. She had already learned his humor, likes and dislikes. She wanted to know his primal side now. What is he like when passion takes hold of him? She got more than she bargained for. “Can you imagine what he must’ve looked like after the gym that evening? All that testosterone brimming inside him…” my friend recalled. She remembered him being larger than ever before due to the pump he was having. Veins were jumping out of him. Probably looked like this other pic from his Insta account. When they got into his bedroom, my friend couldn’t help but marvel at how the entire place was well organised and tidy. The bedroom was spacious, so he had set up a pull-up bar and a heavy-looking punching bag. There were also quite a number of large mirrors, which made the room appear bigger than it actually is. Another set of mirrors was near the bed - one on the wall on the side of it, and the other stuck to the sealing above the bed. By the time they got to the bed, their clothes were shed. This is, by the way, where she finally got a good look at his beautifully shaped ass. At first, he was being very gentle with her as they were starting foreplay and kissing. However, at some point, my friend said that she started to goad him, so that he would become more rough with her. I think she likes it that way. After a slap here, a wicked laugh there, he grew increasingly - and visibly - annoyed… He wasn’t amused at all. He grabbed her by her arms and forcefully picked her up with great ease, as if to correct her behaviour. Then, he laid her back onto the bed with some frustration. She described his face as barely containing anger and remembers his loud breathing. He got up, nude, with every muscle and every vein visible on his large tight body, and he walked furiously across the room in circles. The muscle mass on him, combined with his imposing height, makes him weigh at around 115 kilos - nearly twice her weight. His steps were booming. He then took a sturdy metal chair from a corner of the room and placed it in front of the bed. Still annoyed, he said to her “come here.” She could tell from his tone that he was in no mood for hesitation, so she got up from the bed and walked up to the chair. He impatiently turned her away from himself and picked her up off the floor onto the seat, so that her behind would face him. It looked to her that this was his version of foreplay, so she was still looking forward to what may come out of this all. He entered her vagina with his decent-sized dick and thrusted strong enough that her knees were no longer touching the chair, which was there to support them in the first place. It felt good, albeit a little violent. While she was moaning, she looked up into the mirror by the bed and saw that Philip was focused solely onto himself in the reflection. She said that she thought at the time “Fuck, I’d be looking at myself if I were as gorgeous as him”. He was staring into his own eyes and into the glistening muscles of his own large and powerful body while practically holding her 60 kilos constantly in the air. He was going like that for several minutes. When he finally turned his focus to the girl he was thrusting, she felt that he was getting a bit flaccid. Not too much, for he was still a clear presence inside of her. Philip leaned over her back and stretched his arm down, next to her head. He was again gazing at their reflection in the mirror, but now he had a renewed hardness to his dick. My friend said that she was enjoying the feel of his strength imposed on her, and said that it was even more than she had hoped for. He certainly knew how to move down there, not just simple thrusts. She was genuinely enjoying it, but she was still able to see that Philip was actually focusing now on the monstrous size of his own arm when put next to her significantly smaller body. He flexed it so that the peak of his bicep would be right next to her head. She remembered how she rubbed her head against his bicep and feeling that rock-like hardness. Then, she told me, something unexpected happened. He got out of her, then proceeded to put her back on the bed. He placed the chair on the bed too, so that it was above her head. Now he was above her, and she was facing him, and their sex organs reunited. He was straddling her like a mighty lion, and he appeared inhumanly large above her. All she could see were his stone-hard abs and huge pecs as they were thrusting up and down, along with her entire body. Here comes the weird part. He looks down into her eyes. She was feeling a mixture of ecstasy and fear in that moment. He was insanely hot, even in this moment of bestial mindlessness, yet everything that was going on escaped even her wildest fantasies, and I can tell you, my friend has some wild imagination. It was in that moment when he grabbed ahold of the chair and, while looking into my friend’s eyes, proceeded to crush it! It was here that fear completely took over in my friend’s mind. Crushing that chair is no small feat. According to my friend, it had a steel frame with elements of hard wood and was quite heavy and solid. Philip squeezed it with his powerful hands while relentlessly looking into my friend’s eyes. Soon, the chair’s frame gave way to his pressure and started to grind and crack loudly. By this point my friend was petrified with terror at what she was seeing. Philip was practically turning from a prince into a savage monster before her very eyes. He groaned with his deep and booming voice as he was distorting and destroying the chair. He was looking with his cold unyielding eyes deep into her while he was doing it. He pinned the frame of the chair next to the girl’s petrified naked body and ripped the bars towards himself. She could do nothing but watch silently this monstrous display of power because she was helpless. The strength that was needed to pull and rip the steel outward was bordering inhuman. Looking at those dark, cruel eyes of his, she was actually afraid… that he was going to switch the chair with her at some point. Philip got off of her and violently launched the remains of what used to be a chair onto the wall, shattering it into bits that scattered on the floor. His wrath wasn’t subsiding, though. He then furiously launched hits at his punching bag. The whole building was shaking at the shockwaves that his punching produced. His precise movement and enormous strength with which he was hitting made it evident that had the bag been human, there would be no more life left in it. During this unbelievably intense moment, my friend’s wits came back to her, and she thought of a way to prevent things from escalating. She got off the bed to her feet and silently said his name in a calm manner. “Philip?”, in response to which he stopped his punching and looked at her. His chest was heaving from deep breaths, and his pumped up muscles were covered with sweat. She approached him carefully, barely containing her shivering, knowing full well that he might lunge at her. This time, however, she had gotten to know him a bit. She took his large hand and brought him to one of the mirrors. The blood was coming back to his cock at the sight of his own reflection. In that moment, he was a personification of power - a god of strength and beauty. Every muscle fiber was bursting on him. He was enormous, bigger than life. He wanted to turn around towards her, but she stopped him from doing that, lest he get some new ideas. She stood behind him so that his frame would completely eclipse her from the mirror. Only her hands were visible because she was caressing his muscles gently. He realised that it felt good that his god-like body is finally receiving some worshiping. His dick was insanely hard now. He looked at himself as the petit female hands were passing over the massive landscape of his sculpted V-shaped torso. He flexed his arms and allowed my friend to feel the enormity of power emanating from his hard lats, triceps, and biceps. He knew that nothing could stop him in this moment if he went on a rampage, but getting some love and appreciation for the body he had painstakingly built over the years felt much more rewarding. He could no longer contain himself. His breathing and his twitching stiff cock became a signal of the fact that he could no longer fight his sexual urges. My friend realised that, so she jerked him off. When he laid down on the bed, she gladly sucked him because she was relieved. He came in a torrent of sperm. My friend told me about this with clear fear and disbelief at the events she was describing, but I, for whatever reason, felt like it was the sexiest thing I had ever heard. She says that they are still friends, and I still see his comments on her posts, but she said that that day’s experience is something she is not eager to repeat… I barely contained my breathing as she was describing all of this to me. What did you feel? This is based on true events that happened more than half a year ago. Here is another picture of “Philip”. I hear that he finally understood what a beauty he is, so now he took to modelling.
  14. losewin22

    Nailed It (Justin Bieber x Zac Efron)

    Back in 2012, Justin Bieber decided to start to go to a gym in LA, he wanted to workout and to be muscular, his boyish appeal wasn't supposed to work for him anymore, he need to be masculine to be a star He found Zac Efron in the same gym, Zac is generally a pretty nice guy, but when he found the skinny kid trying to lift small weights he couldn't help but make fun of it Z: "-Look at it, the boy can't lift even two pounds" J: "-I'm just starting" Z: "When I started I lifted more than that, I'm pretty sure" Efron harrassment keeps going on and on, untill some day that Bieber didn't show up anymore... Then some years later, in 2017, Efron was working out his chest in bench press, when his exercise was over, a guy show up and just put more ten pounds in the bar It was Justin... Bieber didn't want to humiliate Zac with words, he wanted the situation to speak for itself, he wanted to say "look I can lift more than you do now" Zac keeps looking in hope that something would went wrong, but it didn't happened Bieber lifted the weights with such ease, he didn't moaned as much as Zac At this point Efron still had the best biceps, but anyone could notice Bieber's abs, chest and ass gave Zac a run for his money. Even at the biceps department.. Efron starts to get threatened Efron pretended that he never bullied Bieber, if he didn't mention it, it didn't happened, anyway he could say he was just trying to motivate him Constantly and daily Bieber looked at Efron with death stares that make him tremble his legs Bieber didn't was physically imponent or intimidating, but was enough for Zac to don't want trouble with him, not to say he was used to train fight and wrestling, something that Zac wasn't used to do But they remain friendly to each other Constantly comparing their muscles, Zac run from strength challenges (like arm wrestling), but muscle size is still arguable at this point Bieber was trying to lay the groundwork for a wrestling match / MMA combat Something is pretty clear, Zac wouldn’t fight in front of everyone but for sure would fight “hidden”, this kid Bieber is a douchebag and he needs a lesson, everyone knows that, and he wouldn’t waste the chance to beat the shit out of him Bieber thought that him would make that challenge, but Efron did it first, invitating him to a match at his house Bieber appear at Efron’s home, ready to fight, and tried to make an agreement over the results, he wants sex after the fight, and the loser will bottom, Zac gets angry, he thinks “why is he trying to do this?”, but suddenly he realizes Bieber wants to disconcert him and accept the challenge Before the fight, they played mercy, Zac is confident, he puts a lot of his strength as he bends Bieber with ease, then Bieber get on his knees and Efron is about to win… but Efron suddenly stops, he don’t know what is going on but Bieber’s arms turns unbendable. Bieber was just toying, playing with his expectations: “if the guy is so easy, I don’t need to put too much effort”. But Zac didn’t know he needed to put all of himself into it, so when Bieber take control, it was very hard for Zac to recover In a smart and fast move Bieber choke Efron into his armpits J: yeah suck my nasty, sweaty pits, this is your place Efron is in despair but suddenly he starts to choke Bieber’s neck with his legs, Bieber have no choice but release his face Now Zac is in control, it’s hard to escape a leg hold and Zac just enjoy… Zac starts to move around with Bieber trapped on his legs, moving Bieber around, move him for the left, them move him for the right Then Bieber gets on his knees, still trapped, but he have a way out He holds Efron’s legs with his arms and start to push Efron to the wall, drag Efron by the ground, Efron releases him and now it’s time for a fast move Bieber choke Efron on his pits again, but now he does it violently, pressing Zac’s face against the ground just to take off his breathe Then he starts to get up, with Efron trapped on his arms, he basically pull Zac’s off by the neck, and starts to walk, Zac is with his legs bent, crawling, he can’t escape Bieber orders J: Lick my pits, now I’m talking seriously Efron moans Bieber chokes hard and screams LICK IT! Efron lick the pits, Bieber just hold a little because Efron couldn’t stop licking, Bieber let it happen because he wanted to enjoy the taste to be in control Bieber releases Efron who got off with a hard moan, falling on his knees Bieber go to the scoreboard: 1X0 Zac is pissed off, but he don’t let himself to be defeated, all the situation just fuels his anger 2nd round starts Zac just hold Bieber in another strength competition, now he’s more ready, he won’t let Bieber fool him, playing mercy again, now there’s nothing that Bieber can do, he’s giving it all but Zac still bend him, put Bieber on the ground Suddenly Zac pulls Bieber by the legs, thrown the legs, sit on Bieber’s chest, kneeling on the ground, puts Bieber’s arms ander his legs and start to torture him, pinching and twitching his nipples, then punching his chest and finally pulling Bieber by his hair to rub Bieber’s face on his dick Still in control Zac flex his muscles over Bieber, but decided to still have some fun He pull Bieber’s face, again, and rub on his dick, and keep rubbing and rubbing while Bieber moans, pull with one hand while flex the other arm, laugh When he’s about to release Bieber he just get his balls and press it hard, don’t underestimate Zac ballbusting powers, Bieber about to cry starts to fight Efron’s hand, but of course Zac fights back and keeps destroying his balls, then Zac squeeze and punch Bieber’s chest, repeatedly When Bieber looks over Efron lift him, and give him a bearhug, make Bieber feel like his back would be crushed, and squeeze, squeeze him so hard, Bieber thinks “at some point he will get tired, I’m not that light to carry” but Zac never get tired and the situation comes to unbearable Bieber taps, it’s over, Efron won that round, Efron is dangerous, Bieber learned that he’s a destroying machine when he’s angry, and he can do everything to win “if Efron cheats I’m going to cheat to take the upper hand too” 1X1 3rd round starts, they hold each other and start to push, very hard, Bieber used this as a distraction and kick Efron in the balls suddenly putting Efron on the ground, he just starts to beat Efron over him Bieber uses his armpits (again) to suffocate, he choke Efron a little bit then lift him, holding him by the legs and neck, put Efron upside his shoulders and start a torture rack Bieber stretch Efron out, that screams loudly when Bieber looks into a mirror to proudly look at the monster he took control, he notes Efron is with an indecent boner popping out of his singlet... Bieber quickly thinks “I will take advantage of this” J: Its 2X1 for me now, isn’t it? Bieber says with Efron on his shoulders He goes to the scoreboard and change the score J: I didn’t finished it yet Bieber starts to move Zefron, puts him in a reverse inverted bearhug, hold him hard, Efron moans, Bieber starts to take him down, till Zac’s face get in front of his dick, puts Zac’s face inside the speedo J: Learn something man, you wanted to teach me a lesson and maybe I deserve one… but unfortunately it’s not one of your movies where the good guy wins, this is real life… maybe someone needs to teach me something.. but needs to be someone better than you.. now you know what you have to do Upside down, Efron starts to suck Bieber’s dick, he’s upside down, with a boner so embarrassing on his own speedo and of course Bieber took advantage of this also While Zac sucks him, Bieber starts to masturbate Zac, he does it so softly, and found amusing to see Efron’s body spasms everytime he stops Bieber make Zac jizz all over his speedo, right after Bieber jizz on Zac’s face, lift Zac’s up and thrown him on the ground Zac is destroyed, with his face full of Bieber’s cum, his speedo full of his own cum, he could fight back but is afraid to get another beatdown, it’s embarrassing to see an almost 30 years old man submitting so shamefully to a 22 years old boy but he did it anyway Bieber pulls Efron by the hair and make Efron kiss every block of his abs, so Efron give Bieber 8 kisses on his belly, while Bieber pull him over J: Remember what we agreed to Z: You don’t get tired to abuse me like this? J: no I don’t, now get in position Zac gets in position to be fucked in the ass like a bitch, he’s too humiliated to fight back and too humiliated to don’t be humiliated a little bit more
  15. elysiumfields

    m/m Mardi Gras Muscle Pt3

    Mardi Gras Muscle PART THREE I stood in shock at the sight of the hulking jock looming before me. He was already the type of devestatingly gorgeous guy that would have instantly got my cock leaking at a simple first glance,yet now he was so much more than that and i had to try very hard not to literally orgasm in my underwear just from being close to his enhanced masculinity. The hunks height had not advanced from his 6ft, but it was his massive muscles that simply overpowered me,.and even after witnessing Bens muscle growth, i still had that feeling of overwhelming awe. And it seemed that this sexy American jock had not even finished growing yet.. I failed not to stare at his pecs,.already beefy and meaty..now expanding gradually into huge heaving slabs of raw power straining against the mesh fabric of his varsity jersey. My mouth watered and my cock throbbed into an ever stiffening erection as the hunk grew very noticeably before my very eyes. "So dude,you got the hots for me,ain't ya..!". He raised an arm to tweak and tease his prominant nipple poking under his tightening jersey,the thick muscles of his sinewy arm flexing and gradually expanding as i tried my best not to blow my load right there and then."Yeah, i know you're getting off on my buff jock bod,dude". My legs felt a little weak and my cock throbbed even more achingly erect as the hunky jock moved closer to me,radiating his manly sweat like some aphrodisiac that made me swoon even more. He glared down at me and eyed me with a hungry look on his handsome face,and then like a performing stripper,reached down his massive thickening arms and slowly and very erotically,peeled up his varsity jersey revealing his powerfully muscled torso in all its glory for me,knowing that i would find it an irresistable draw. A solid wall of rippling abs came into view,a sensuous trail of dark hair running in between the crunching brick like muscles like rough low grass along the crack of a winding ravine and spreading out into a pubic patch peaking above the waistband of his jeans.that bulged obscenely to contain a massive oversized cock and heavy balls. Up went the shirt,slow and deliberate,revealing more of his hard rocky 8 pack abs that flexed as he purposefully swayed his hips to the sound of some unknown rythem,all the while conscious that i was very definately getting off on this fine display of college muscle,and creaming pre-cum in my underwear and my mouth watering at the sheer masculinity of it all. The jocks thick bulging lats flared out as he pulled his jersey up higher,revealing their beefy mass,still engorging preceptively but less so with size,and his obliques rippling with every sway of his tight hips. I could now drink in the impossible wideness of his barn-door lats and how his torso tapered down to an impossibly narrow waspish waistline that kinda reminded me of a sleek cheetah on the plains of Africa. When the low swollen mass of his pecs began to be revealed,i literally drooled and felt my balls tighten with impending orgasm. Everything around me felt as if it had dulled out and the sounds muffled as all my attention was fixated on the college musclehunk. The growing of his muscles had stopped but still he was incredibly huge as he bared his meaty pecs for me. Heavy bulging mounds swollen with mass that would of made bodybuilder Sagi Kalevs meaty pecs look miniscule in comparison,and lightly dusted with sparse dark hair,capped with big juicy thimble sized nipples just begging to be suckled..And the cleft between his burgeoning pecs was like a deep sweaty crevasse that i was picturing myself burying my face in..but probably run the risk of being suffocated!. The jock was now pulling the jersey over his head,giving me cock stiffening whiff of his funky sparsely haired armpit sweat.I made a conscious effort to fight off the urge not to lick his bared pit.. His arms were revealed next,..thick hard delts,thick bulging triceps heavy with muscle,and his huge monster biceps swollen like bowling balls and striated with cord-like veins..Thats it, i could'nt hold back and i came in wet squirts into my underwear,shuddering with the effort of my orgasm and feeling weakness in my legs. The massive hunk pulled off his jersey and slung it on to the floor just as i felt faint with lust.He reached down and lifted me off the floor with no effort at all and held me to his hot sweat glistened herculean torso,smiling ruefully that he had conquered me and revealing my desires for him. "I just knew you could'nt resist my totally awesome muscle bod,dude." My face was against his hard meaty pecs and i gave in to my desires. "So hows about i take you back to my hotel room and you can worship hot frat boy stud muffin all you want,my little Brit dude." I nodded silently,not knowing what to say as he released and guided me through the packed bar,one hand firmly groping my hard little butt and causing me to once again get a hard-on,not helped by the sights of musclemen all around me,assaulting my senses and even now causing me to catch my breath,especially when i saw that ALL four of my mates had grown into these massive sex mad muscle hunks too.. It did not matter to me that i had not changed as i had always seen myself as the submissive bottom of any gay relationship and very definately got off on other good looking studs becoming huge musclemen,and now i was going to act out one of my great homo fantasies, being a massively muscled American College Jocks fag-bitch.and i was already rising to another orgasm just thinking about it! .......THE END........
  16. Bearbo

    Derrick and Me - Chapter 3: Yours

    Well, this took me a while. Hey, guys! Sorry, it took me so long to actually get this up onto Muscle Growth. Just a warning: I'm still editing some parts of the chapter. It's not perfect, after all. But, while I'm editing, I'm going to try to work on a sort of side chapter that goes alongside this one, and maybe some other works that I want to play around with. If you guys have any ideas or requests on things that you want me to write about, post them in the comment section and i'll consider! But, for now, Enjoy! ------------------------------------------- Chapters 0-2: Chapter 3: Yours As he guided me towards where the shower stalls were, told me about the things that he’ll do to me. I was like a dog to him – a dog that was getting disciplined for pissing all over his owners’ floor. The things he told me… All I could do was confirm my submission to his will as he dragged me along by my hand, and I loved every second of it. I was a bit bigger than Elliot, but the power and the dominance that emitted from his presence beat me and chained me down. I couldn’t find it within myself to fight back against him. But, even if I could, I don’t think that I really would have. After all, for me to pass up being destroyed by this stocky, cocky man and to be able to stare deep into his light blue eyes while he fucked me would be foolish. Possibly even a sin. Once we approached the shower stalls, Elliot playfully pushed me inside one of them. He forced me up onto a wall and leaned himself up against my back, gently kissing my neck as I groaned softly. I encouraged him to continue, as he started to nibble my ear. “Get started on washing, and we can take this a step further” Elliot said. His kisses started to get softer, and soon he took his lips away from mine. He turned to the shower faucet and set it to release a warm stream of water “Clean yourself” Elliot said bluntly as he leaned himself against the wall nearest to him. He stared intently at me, a smirk forming on his face, as he motioned me to the soap. I stared at him for a few moment – admiring the formation of his upper body and the length of his dick. My mind slowly started to go blank, until I released that we forgot out rags. “Elliot…” I said hesitantly. “What is the matter” Elliot said, the cocky smirk being replaced with a look of confusion. “Do you mind getting me my rag?” I said, chuckling a bit to hide my embarrassment. At that moment, a wave of embarrassment fell across his face. He got himself off the wall and started walking towards the stalls entrance. “Aww, shit” Elliot said as he made his way out of the shower. “Where was my mind? Please, Give me a few seconds, babe”. Elliot rushed out of the shower stall, but not before giving my ass a nice slap. I silently wished that he would stay and keep doing that, as I got off easily from things like that. He was out of the shower fast, though, so all I could have done at that moment was just lay myself against the wall and fantasize about how Elliot will fuck me, stroking my cock while thinking of such. “Shit…” I heard Elliot say from outside the shower. “Hey, what’s happening out there?” I asked as I opened the shower curtain. As soon as I pulled away the shower curtain, my face became pale. Me and my fiancé – both of our dicks dangling and erect- standing in front of Derrick, who seemed to have started to get ready for a shower himself. Derrick stared at both of us, his eyes just darting between me and Elliot. “The actual fuck are you guys doing?” Derrick said in a quite manor, caught in the middle of being afraid and surprised. I just stood there, contemplating why god thrusted us in this position. I looked at Elliot to see how he would handle this situation, as my mind was blanking out. All Elliot did was stand there, looking dumbfounded at Derrick. It became just the three of us staring at each other, not moving or speaking in any way. This continued for a good few seconds, until Derrick decided to break the silence. “I guess what Elroy said was true” Derrick said, as he wrapped his towel tighter around his waist. I stared down to notice that a bulge was forming under Derricks towel but didn’t stare long enough for Derrick to realize what I was doing. I became a bit more flustered from what I saw, which caused my boner to get a bit larger – large enough for Derrick to notice. “I think I’m going to leave” Derrick said as he tried to get his stuff ready. “Woah, woah, there Derrick…” Elliot said quickly. “You sure you don’t want to join us?”. At that moment, my whole world froze. It was like that one sentence was enough to halt the flow of this worlds reality. I was wondering if Elliot had lost his mind when he said that, especially when it’s so that he’s asking Derrick out of all the people in the world. I was about to scream at Elliot to get his clothes back on, but I stared down and saw that Derricks boner was getting significantly bigger, to the point where even the towel was forming a tent over it. “Come on, dude! I see the bulge. This could be our little secret” Elliot coaxed Derrick as he started to approach him. Derrick didn’t even move an inch, but instead started staring straight at Elliot’s dangling dick. “I mean…I would think that this would be a bit much for the first day on the job, don’t you think, Elliot?” Derrick said, as he unwrapped his towel, exposing his throbbing member to me and my fiancé. It was decorated in veins and looked a bit larger than what I had ever imagined. As soon as Elliot was in front of Derrick, the both looked down at the packages that they had. Both seemed impressed with what the other got, and I was just standing in the shower, wondering about the hell was about to happen - if it was going to be so that I was going to have sex with both Derrick and my fiancé. I just kept silent as I watched this all play out. “Ha, well, you guys are really giving me really something hard to turn down. You guys look pretty good, but I’m afraid that I’m going to have to pass. Feeling tired from my workout, and I need to get home to start unpacking again.” Derrick said while laughing. I could still detect that he was a bit bothered, but he did try his best to hide it. “I got to go take a shower, though. Don’t let me disturb you guys. But just keep it down, yeah” Derrick said, weirdly winking at both of us. He picked his towel up and slung it across his back. He walked away, but in a fashion that made it so that he was presenting his ass to both of us. “What the actual fuck was that?” I thought to myself as I saw Derrick walk away from us. Elliot chuckled to himself as he watched Derrick walk into one of the shower stalls. It didn’t take him that long to brush off what happened and resume getting the rag that he promised me that he would get. But, for me, the whole event was still playing on loop in my mind. How Derrick saw both of us naked, how he showed us his dick, and how he practically teased us as he walked away just kept haunting me….it was all too surreal. “Got it now, babe. Took a while, right?” Elliot said as he came walking back into my bathroom stall. He still had the same smirk that he had with Derrick plastered across his face. “Okay, wait, Elliot, what the hell was that? Why did you…” I asked. But before I could have finished my questions, I was cut off by Elliot’s lips enveloping mine. I struggled with him a bit, but I soon became putty in his hands when he started playing with my nipples again. “Do it” Elliot demanded. “Yes, sir” I conceded. Elliot took back up his position against the wall, and I started to clean myself up for the fucking that was going to be unleashed on me. I presented my ass to my fiancé as I washed it down, and he came up to me and cupped the entire package. “Here, let me help you with that” Elliot said as he took the rag from me. I didn’t say anything, but I leaned myself against the bathroom wall and popped my ass out for him. “Good boy…” Elliot said as he delivered a quick slap onto my ass. He placed some extra soap on the rag and started rubbing it against me. He massaged both of my cheeks, causing me to quietly groan to myself. “You like that don’t you? Want me to go a bit farther” Elliot leaned over me and whispered in my ear. “Please. Keep going” I said, wanting this moment to keep going for as long as possible. Elliot then took the rag and placed a single finger under it. He placed more soap on it, rubbed it in, and then leaned himself over me, placing his lips close to my ear breathing softly. He then slid the rag in between my butt cheeks and started teasing my asshole. “Ahh, fuck, dude” I groaned a bit louder as he slowly penetrated me with his fingers. He pushed his fingers in and out of me, with each time causing me to groan even louder. Then, he pushed his fingers deep into me, and started swirling them around. “Aww, fuck, man! Please, just fuck me!” I begged Elliot as I screamed out in pleasure. “Not yet…” Elliot said as he pushed his fingers further down inside me. He continued to swirl and push his fingers around, specifically looking for something – my prostate. It only took him a few more seconds to finally locate it, and, once he did, he pressed softly on it. I arched my head back, and let out a quick yelp, only to find myself losing all the feeling in my body. I slumped up on the wall - my legs more spread then how it was before. “Please…please…” I said every time he hit that spot. “Please…what?” Elliot said, as he ravished my prostate without restraint. I started to blank out from the amount of pleasure that I felt when he did that, only to be tapped on the back of my head by Elliot. “Please what?” Elliot asked again. “Please, sir. Please, fuck me. Please…” I begged the dominant as the thoughts that bounced around in my mind was drowned out by the pleasure I was feeling and the sound of Elliot’s breathing. “You want this? C’mere” Elliot said as he took my hips into his hands and pulled me closer to him. I propped my ass up for him a bit more, and he thanked me by delivering a nice slap onto them. It was only a few seconds after that quick sensation that I started feeling something hard grind in between my butt cheek – shaking and pulsating like a rod energized with electricity. I participated in this – rubbing my butt against his cock as he grinded himself against me. After a while, he moved himself away from me. I tried to look over to where he was to see why he stopped, but, before I could have even turned my head, I felt the head of his cock right on my asshole. I froze for a moment, but then melted as his cock got slowly pushed into me. The feeling was so intense – the emotional, the mental, the physical. “There we go.” Elliot dragged out as he placed himself deep in my ass. He had it lay in there for a good few seconds, but then decided to start what I was waiting for. He pulled a bit out, and then, with great force, thrusted his entire cock right in me – hitting my prostate with great force. “AW, SHIT!” I screamed, forgetting the fact that Derrick was a few stalls away from us. I didn’t care however. How I didn’t care, as the feeling was just too much to keep within me. “Yeah, that’s what I want. Fucking scream for me, baby” Elliot demanded as he repeatedly pounded me. His thrusts became faster every time he heard me scream from him hitting my prostate. He was relentless – slapping my ass and pounding me while cursing to himself under his breath. “Hit me harder, dude! Fuck my ass up, Elliot!” I screamed to Elliot as I pushed my ass onto his crotch every time he re-entered. Elliot’s thrusts became more powerful as time went on, but he soon became bored of the position that he was using to fuck me. After a few more moments, he completely took his cock out of me walked over to the wall behind us. He sat down on the shower floor, leaning his back against the wall while motioning me to come over. I remained silent as I followed him to where he was, as I knew exactly what he wanted. I soon found myself standing over him, taking a somewhat dominant position before I ended up submitting myself again to Elliot. Before I could have knelt, Elliot quickly placed his mouth where my cock was, and took it all into his mouth. I just stood there, silent and frozen as a statue, as I looked and watched him pleasure me with his mouth. He continued to do this until I felt an orgasm coming my way, which, at that point caused me to push his head off me. “Shit, I’m about to cum” I said softly, gripping my dick to prevent myself from orgasming too early. “You better get down here then” Elliot said as he looked up at me with pleading eyes. I didn’t hesitate to do what he said. I knelt and placed my ass above his hardened dick, which was throbbing harder than ever before. I helped position his dick to where my hole was located, and gently lowered myself down on it. I kept lowering myself to the point where his penis head was touching my hole, where, at that moment, I just took his whole dick in without issue. Sitting myself on top of my fiancé, I started jumping up and down on him. “Yeah, like that, babe! Don’t stop…” Elliot cheered me on as he took in all the pleasure that he was receiving. He soon became putty in my hands as I started to dominate him. “Suck my nipples” I demanded. Just like how I gave in to his demands without waver, he did so with me. He leaned his head over and took my entire right nipple into his mouth, while flicking, rubbing, and pulling the other. The pleasure from the nipple play and the prostate massage made me lose my mind, and I ended up bouncing up and down on his dick like there was no tomorrow. “I’m about to cum” we both said in Unison as my nipples were getting played with and while his dick was getting worked. Both of what we were doing got more intense, and the pleasure just kept on increasing with each passing moment. I felt my orgasm quickly coming up, and, with a final thrust of my hips, I let all the fluid that I kept inside of me drain all over the face and hairy chest of my fiancé. I let out a large scream, a scream that could possibly heard from miles away. I kept thrusting my hips as I did this, and it didn’t take long after I ejaculated for Elliot to do the same. “Goddamn” Elliot said as he delivered a final thrust into me. I felt his dick filling my ass up with his own cum, and I let out a low grown to express my pleasure with it. I jumped on his dick a few more times to help drain him out, and, after I felt that he was done cumming, I took his dick out of me and leaned in deliver a passionate kiss onto him.
  17. Thomas can feel his back, delts, traps, and shoulders ballooning, stretching and popping in more places than he can count as the chair begins creaking. He is testing the restraints now as a couple of the seams on the straps tear ever so slightly. His arms have surpassed 23” and his biceps and triceps are gloriously humungous. They are bunched up on the back of the chair as he has to hunch over to handle the mass that is forming on his frame. His pecs are still growing as they stretch the shirt fabric to its limits. There is a massive gap beneath them as he can no longer see the monstrous eight slabs beneath his huge furry mantits. He loves the way they look as his nipples and areolas thicken and double in size nearly perfectly on the corners. They are almost entirely visible from outside his shirt. He understands why the shirt was so loose now, but he wants to destroy it without having to use his hands. He is now staring at the two men in front of him and realizes that they are nearly nude. He is not the same Thomas they remember at all anymore. His eyes and face still resemble the old Thomas, but he isn’t nearly as shy, but that was to be expected of course. His lower half is nearly done growing as they walk up to him seeing that the transition is nearly complete. Arliss and Cliff motion for the medical staff to leave so they can spend some one-on-one time with the huge young hulk. They both take turns rubbing his 35” quads and 23” calves which are sending shivers up and down the Canadian’s massive back. Cliff doesn’t even say anything before he reaches down to run his tongue along the huge, even larger 13” shaft, tasting the thick cockhead and guzzling its contents. Arliss massages his lower body making Thomas feel every sensation. He is yelling in delight and wants desperately to ravage both men. A few more tears are made on his arm and leg straps as he flexes his legs and arms. The volume in his upper arm is too much for the shirt now as the seams rip in half, exposing his gigantic ball-shaped veiny shoulders. His expanding lats are busting through as well as they destroy the sides of the shirt and flare out to the point that they are messing with the chair’s arms. His eyes are fixed on Cliff mostly, as he stares at the big hunk, breathing deeply and sounding like a giant bear, as his mentor continues to worship his monster cock, toying with his swollen cockhead. Arliss decides to fuck Cliff so he slides his thong off to push his huge cock inside the big man. Cliff gulps on Thomas’s cock for a few minutes before he stops to allow Arliss to push himself all the way in to pound him and blast his cum inside. The older top pulls out and backs off to get up and put his thong back on. He appears to be done knowing that Cliff should be able to handle the rest. “FUCK Cliff, that was way too fun. *looks at Thomas and swoons* You are a fucking beautiful man now young man. Well I should say, beastly man. I will be back in a few minutes to help clean this up.” Arliss departs as Cliff goes back to pleasuring Thomas, who is obviously far from being done. His muscles are swollen and throbbing. His shirt is hanging halfway off his body and his engorged pecs are begging for freedom. His mentor wants to put him over the edge and thinks he can do it, so he starts toying with his client even further. “I want you to fucking try and get free Thomas. I know you can do it, I can see how much the straps are fraying now. The raw power that is emanating from you is intoxicating and I am positive that shirt will do what that puny pair of shorts did earlier. Fucking grow a bit more and destroy that shirt.” Thomas is so wound now that he is straining and flexing even harder than before. Incredibly still with the needles in his arms, although they are nearly invisible inside his engorged veins now, the force he is exerting makes his arms swell another inch from top to bottom. He is ripping the straps now as Cliff looks on in amazement as the material rips in an even pattern. When they finally give way, the massive Canadian grins at Cliff and puffs his chest out to make his shirt shred as his chest becomes more visible. He has developed a gargantuan 65” chest with an uneven eight pack. He continues to smile as he shows Cliff one of his fat fingers and reaches up to slowly tug on the material. He moans feeling the remaining seams tear off realizing that it feels like a feather being lifted off of his massive frame. He is fully grown now it seems. He looks at both of his arms, noticing that there are two tiny needles that are barely inside his garden-hose sized veins and plucks them out and over the side of the chair. Cliff is stunned that Thomas has managed to get free from his restraints. He gets up off the ground and moves back a few inches. The Canadian hulk never takes his eyes off of Cliff. He is reveling in his size and deep down realizes that this feeling was always there. He flexes his vascular lats and makes them bust the arm rests off the chair as they tumble over to the sides. He is ready to get up now as security guards start moving through the side doors. Cliff motions for them to leave. “No guys, we are good. I think he just needs some attention. He has been waiting for this for his entire life, and I think so have I.” The giant hulk stumbles a bit as he gets to his feet, trying to figure out how much weight he needs to put on them since this is a completely new experience for him. He jumps on to Cliff and they fall to the ground. He is grunting and growling as he looks into Cliff’s eyes. He feels completely reborn and has no qualms about forcing himself onto other men. He leans over to whisper into his mentor’s ear. “You are right Cliff. This is exactly who I am and what I am destined to be. The old Thomas is still inside me, but he probably won’t be making another appearance ever again. All I can think about right now is plowing you for hours on end and feeling our bodies rub against each other forever. I want to taste you and fill you up until you burst. *feels Cliff tremble a bit* Eh? I have never seen you like this before. I want to be in control okay? *Cliff shakes his head yes multiple times* MMM, let’s do it gorgeous.” After making Cliff hornier than he has ever felt, with one finger again, Thomas snaps his mentor’s thong off and looks at his partner’s shaft spurting precum everywhere. He smiles before moving down to swallow it. He purposefully sucks it in rapid succession to put Cliff over the edge. The stunned man yells as Thomas pulls it out of his mouth to watch it blast cum all over his massive 345 pound frame. He goes back down on it again to gulp several ropes of cum and moans deeply closing his eyes to savor the sweet taste. He laughs as he pulls it out of his mouth again. Cliff pulls on his thick black beard and motions for him to kiss him. “Ohh? What makes you think I want to kiss you Cliff? *smiles which makes Cliff swoon* Are you going to beg me then?” “Oh my god Thomas. Where have you been all of my life? You are the alpha that I need, barking orders when needed. Please kiss me. I need to feel your lips on mine.” The huge hairy hulk gets back up and is a couple of inches taller than his mentor. His massive pecs are pressing up against Cliff’s pec shelf as he reaches around to caress his partner’s head. He pulls him in quickly to lock lips and holds him against him. There is an instant connection as both men moan deeply. This lasts for several minutes as they both massage each other’s chests with their hands. Thomas lifts him up to bury his face into Cliff’s chest and starts exploring his partner with his mouth. The smitten hunk submits to his new partner, but Thomas stops to say something to him. “You don’t have to let me do all of the work Cliff. *looks down at his massive pecs and furry eight-pack* I need this tension in my pecs to be released. You think you can help me with that?” Cliff’s eyes enlarge when he tells him this. “Then I suggest you make me feel it gorgeous. I feel like I can produce several gallons of cum just by having my pecs played with. SHIT, I want you to do it so bad.” He shoves Cliff’s head into them as the eager hunk immediately starts to lick them. After several hard punches and smacks, he can tell that Thomas loves every moment of it. “Fucking nurse me Cliff, I want you to abuse my nipples. They are the gateway to salvation, I can feel it.” The horned up hunk lightly blows on both of them, causing them to get fully erect. Thomas bounces both of them each time his partner tries to suck on them, grinning from ear to ear. Cliff is totally infatuated with this man now. He loves his demeanor and how he knows what he wants from him. Once Thomas finally stops toying with him, he lets his partner rub his tongue on both nipples, getting them sopping wet as he treats them with the same respect he has for Thomas’s giant tool. The huge hairy hulk feels every sensation through his entire body. His cock is bouncing ferociously now, leaking a long strand of precum onto the floor beneath them. He is intoxicated with the feeling of having his giant tits ravaged and bounces his pecs again to keep Cliff focused. “Bite and suck them hard Cliff, then I think I can feed you so much cum you won’t ever have to be with another man ever again.” Cliff tugs and chews on both nipples while rubbing his partner’s huge abdominal slabs, running his fingers between each one of them and marveling at their crazy symmetry. He is driving Thomas insane with his constant stimulation. His cock continues to spill thick precum everywhere as he rubs his horny partner’s back and shoulders with his sweaty hands. After a few more minutes of oral stimulation, the huge muscle giant can feel something new happening in his chest. He can hear Cliff moaning deeply as he sniffs the male teet he is working on. It is emitting the same aroma that comes from his crotch normally. Somehow, Thomas’s massive tits have started to leak precum from the pores in his areolas. Cliff runs his tongue along both of them and is in absolute heaven as he tastes the fluids seeping through them. His giant partner has his head arched back and is laughing at this new addition to his already incredible frame. He starts mumbling to himself, but the words are too low for Cliff to understand at first. He finally tells his partner to stop for a few moments so he can take a breather and say a few things to him. His ballsac is being stretched to its limits by the two heaving grapefruits that have been stimulated by more than one area of his body. “Heh…..oh my gawd Cliff. This is more than I ever imagined would happen to me. That serum your people have given to me feels like it has given me two more cocks, only they are two huge gorgeous melons.” His nipples are slowly dripping fluid down Cliff’s arms as he feels both pecs being caressed. His mentor keeps petting them and rubbing his fingers on the areolas. His breathing increases every time this is done. “Ohh fuck….oh fuck…..stop stop stop Cliff. Mmmm, it is as if the cum is being transferred through both my cock and my pecs now. This feels so much more satisfying than just having my cock sucked .” He bounces his pecs again and feels his balls contract as his cum manages to travel all the way up to his chest. He grabs Cliff’s head and presses it on top of his left nipple. It is obvious that something strange is about to happen because both tits look as if they are about to explode. Both men are stunned by what is transpiring and it makes Cliff latch on to his partner’s teet again. His precum stops oozing as Thomas yells in delight feeling his tits shooting thick jizz out of their holes. Both men are feeling euphoric as the huge young hulk top starts spurting cum out of his cock as well. He grabs Cliff’s body and slides him on top of his giant pole, spreading his hole wider than he has ever felt before. Cliff feels Thomas filling him up from both ends, but it doesn’t stop him from continuing to worship his young master. The muscle giant grabs his right pec and toys with his nipple, spraying its contents all over the room they are in. This lasts for about two minutes before he finally stops and he slows his breathing. Cliff quits sucking on his left pec and falls over. Thomas grabs him first though and slides his wet cock out of his partner’s hole to hold him. The medical staff rushes out to take him away from the muscle giant as they try to keep him stabilized. He is drowning in Thomas’s juices, something that should concern the behemoth, but he is surprisingly calm now as Arliss comes back out to attend to the muscle giant. “I think we are done here, you gorgeous stud. Once they get Cliff back to where he should be, he will come see you again. For now, let’s get you cleaned up and get you to bed. You will need a massive amount of rest after this. You are a complete original Thomas and I can’t wait to see where we go next with the others.” Thomas lifts him up to kiss him on the lips and puts him back down on the ground. Arliss is amazed at how affectionate Thomas can be despite the overwhelming changes. “Uhh wow, there may still be a small part of the old Thomas in there. He seemed like a really touchy-feely type, am I right?” The huge beast grins and shakes his head yes. “Mmm yes, he is still in here boss man. I am quickly figuring out how to manage everything in my mind though. You will find out that I am not a complete douchebag.” They leave the area as Thomas walks with him completely nude as his pecs and cock continue to slowly leak fluids onto the floor. Arliss is unconcerned and knows that he can’t touch the hulk without making him react again. They pass other men who have been watching on the monitors and they are totally in awe. They pass Steve who is sitting in one of the side rooms, he waves and smiles. “Is that man getting this treatment too Arliss?” “Ohh yeah he will Thomas. He came here with another man, but he wasn’t cooperating.” “What about Jessie? I really like him. Will he be getting the same serum?” They stop walking. “No, Jessie’s formula is different. He doesn’t need the initial serum because his body is already jump started due to his gym routine. You had to start from square one and your body drank it up. The second serum you received turned you into a completely new beast.” He stares at Thomas’s sweaty pecs and wants to touch them. The muscle giant notices and shoves them in his face. Arliss leans in to taste both of them and grunts. The initial load that shot from them has subsided and it will require more stimulation to make them react again. They are standing between several men and notice that a lot of them have their cocks hanging freely outside their pants. They want another show, but time is starting to get away from the organizers and this can’t be postponed. Arliss motions for Thomas to go down the hall into the shower area and he will be there shortly. He tells the others to get back into their rooms and behave themselves. This was just the first client, what will be in store for the others? End of Part 6 Mastering the Formula: Motivating the Mind: Marking His Territory:
  18. sexyscottishboy

    Worship me bigger

    6 months in to the gym and I was doing pretty well, I went from being a complete twig - and I mean a twig to someone who at least could flex their arm and a ball of muscle would appear, but I was plateauing. I was eating 4000 calories a day which worked well at the start but now all that was doing was maintaining what I had already and I was struggling to eat any more. I was chuffed with looking like I had something but I always wanted so much more. I was out during the week, local gay bar with some pals, wearing a muscle t - OK I wasn't big big, but I wanted to show off what I had and I'm a decent enough looking guy, the night went on though and no one was really peaking interest, well, no one was peaking my interest who would give me the time of day. "Rum and coke please" I said to the barman. "Can I get that for you?". I turned around and there was this young twink. I didn't used to be in to twinks but since I had bulked up a bit, I enjoyed the size difference, made me feel bigger than I was. And not to mention. This guy was pretty cute. "Go on then" I said back, grateful at least that someone half decent was taking an interest. "That t-shirt looks great on you by the way!" - Score! I thought to myself, it's always a risk a muscle t, if you aren't muscled you can look stupid. "Thanks man, compliments and a drink, where have you been all night?" We actually got on pretty well, chatting away, I noticed he kept looking at my chest and arms, it felt good and eventually I said. "Want to come back to mine? For a night cap?" "Oh really?" He cried. "Yea man sounds great!" "Come on then!" We got back to mine shortly after and one drink later, we were making out on the couch. I could feel him rubbing his hands all over my body, squeezing my chest, feeling my biceps. Not feeling my abs because sadly when bulking, it's hard to maintain abs, but he seemed to be enjoying it. "Can I ask you something? I don't know if you'll be in to it..." he said, breaking away from me" "Yea, go one.." I said sceptically. I hope he's not in to like urine or something. "Would you take your top off and flex for me. You just have such an amazing body!" This caught me by surprise. I'd always wanted to be worshipped, but it was usually the really big guys that got worshipped, my mediocre biceps didn't usually draw THAT kind of attention. "Yea, sure" I said, smiling "Really!" he cried, looking excited. I took my top off and posed. It felt a bit embarrassing at first, I didn't think I was big enough to be doing this poses, but he loved it. Soon I got in to it, he ran his hands over my flexed biceps, I flexed my chest. He loved the chest and I loved that he loved it. Then I felt it, I was getting so turned on by this. I am a big guy, he knows it, I know it. I could feel a warmth running through my body, through my muscles. My flexed arm looked bigger than it had before. Maybe I wasn't giving myself enough credit before. Couldn't think about that now, it was time to show this little guy what these muscles could do. The next morning we woke up, he looked even more twink like today. "Woah!" he said when he woke. "I don't think you were this big last night, or I was drinking too much" "Haha, you really were getting in to the muscles weren't you!" I flexed for him again and he rubbed his hands over it, taking it all in and that warm feeling spread through me again. "Careful," I said. "You're getting me turned on again and I'm already running late for work." "You sure you can't call in late?" he asked, pleadingly. Man he looked so cute but I'm not that type of guy who just calls in sick. "Nah, sorry. I really do have to make a move but let's definitely meet again, for round 2!" "I'd like that," he said. He got ready surprisingly fast, brownie points that he didn't just hang around unnecessarily and then we were saying goodbye at the door. "How would you like one more flex before you go?" I said looking down at him, he definitely seemed smaller than last night. "Yea go on!" he laughed. Running his hands over my chest, shoulders, back. I felt a warm glow go through me for the third time and felt amazing. This guy was certainly giving me an ego boost. We kissed goodbye and I went in to the bathroom to start getting ready, that's when I actually caught my reflection in the mirror - I looked good. At first I was thanking the guy for giving me an ego boost and making me feel better about my size but as I looked closer, it wasn't just my ego. I was bigger. I flexed, for myself this time and my bicep looked a few inches larger, my shoulders were more defined and my chest was certainly rounder. I think I looked slightly taller too. What was going on? I wasn't complaining, I looked great, but people don't grow that fast! I thought back to last night, thinking about him, did he do something to me. Then I remembered that feeling when he was worshipping me, every time he did it, I felt bigger, more confident, what if I actually was bigger each time. Well, there's only one way to find out. Time for round 2! To be continued.....
  19. CardiMuscleman

    role-reversal The Student and the Coach

    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.
  20. Herald

    theft The Flexorcist (27)

    Twenty-seven Tomas awoke from his deep and peaceful sleep. He stretched his 40 pound lighter body and mentally ordered his pet to come to his room. He then focused his attention on Connor but only found a blank, resting mind. “He must be sleeping after his fight with Alex”, he said to himself and got up from the bed. He put on his clothes and turned around as the door opened. Anton barged into the room and quizzically stared down at his master. “Are you smaller?”, he asked. “I gave 40 pounds of muscle to Connor to fight Alex”, Tomas replied in a bored tone. “Oh man. Now his bigger than me. Why didn’t you give me those extra muscles? I would have dominated everyone”, Anton said like a toddler being denied a new toy. “SILENCE!”, Tomas bellowed and snapped his fingers. Instantly, Anton’s 580 pound body left the floor and floated in the air. “You’re in no position to question my actions, my pet. You, like everyone else, are at my mercy. I can easily drain your muscles away and cast you in the darkest depths of Hell!”, Tomas said coldly, “Would you like to end like those runts Sean and Keith? Weak, skeleton-like boys without any strength?”. Tomas raised his left hand and lightning shot from his fingertips, hitting the ceiling inches away from Anton’s face. “No. No, I’m sorry”, Anton answered quickly. “I thought so”, Tomas said, “you have a special place in the upcoming ritual, my pet. Since you’re the first beast I’ve created, you’re central in the events at hand. Connor’s only job is to make sure he fulfills his destiny. Now, let’s get to the library and make things ready for the ritual”. Anton crashed down as Tomas ended his spell. He quickly got up and followed his master stepping through the mirror into the library. Aaron had given his keys to Alex and watched as the football player knocked Connor out cold and carried him off to his van. He walked through the now deserted wrestle hall and entered the locker room. He opened his locker but looked up as a big shadow fell over him. Before he could react two strong hands spun him around, grabbed hold of his singlet and lifted him up as his back was slammed against the lockers. Kurt stared the 110 pound lighter wrestler in the eye as he effortlessly held him up. “Where’s Connor,”, he snarled. Aaron squirmed in the bigger man’s grasp, his feet dangling in the air. “Where’s Connor, worm?”, Kurt repeated angrily and smacked the wrestler’s back hard against the metal lockers. “Augh”, Aaron grunted as his back dented the cold metal lockers, “He’s out. Please don’t hurt me”. Kurt groaned in anger; he had looked forward to worshipping Connor’s huge body. His cock hardened at the thought. Might as well have some fun, he thought and dropped the wrestler. “Suck me off”, he said as he ripped off his speedos. Aaron slumped to his knees and stared up at the thickly muscled swimmer looming over him. He knew he was no match for the way bigger athlete and moved in on the hard 8 incher smacking against the steroid bloated eight-pack in front of him. “For every round your cock shall blast, 10 pounds of muscle to me shall be past”, he mumbled softly. These words had just popped up in his mind and it seemed natural to speak them out loud. Kurt looked down and saw the wrestler open his mouth. He rammed his fully engorged 8 incher in it as the other athlete said something. Aaron gagged as the roided up swimmer’s cock invaded his mouth while he spoke the hellish formula. His tongue rubbed along the hard shaft as the last word escaped his mouth. “Yeaughn”, Kurt moaned as his cock exploded the second it made contact with the wrestler’s tongue. He didn’t even have time to blink as the intense pleasure of the most powerful orgasm he’d ever had rolled over his 280 pound body. Aaron eagerly sucked the salty cum away, gulping down every drop of it. Warmth was already spreading through his body and he grabbed hold of the swimmer’s thick quads for support. Kurt closed his eyes and let the feelings overwhelm him completely. His left hand grabbed the back of the wrestler’s head and he began shoving his cock back and forth in the other athlete’s mouth. Aaron answered Kurt’s enthusiasm by sucking his 8 incher even harder. He felt his singlet getting tighter and tighter as his muscles began feeding on the swimmer’s size. His delts bulged with new mass, doubling in size as they swelled outward. He looked at his growing biceps atop his thickening arms that held onto the swimmer’s deflating quads. “Yeaughn”, Kurt moaned once more, in a slightly higher voice. The swimmer was totally lost in pleasure as the wrestler gave him the blowjob of a lifetime. He stopped trusting his hips as his quads burned like they did after a long, hard workout. The mild burning sensation mixed with the electric bliss coursing through his shrinking frame. Aaron’s muscles kept beefing up on his growing frame. He felt his calves swelling with hard meat against his hardening hamstrings. His naturally strong quads thickened and began ripping his singlet. His six-pack bulged outward against the overstretched fabric, making tears appear all over it as they swelled to the size of coke cans. His muscular pecs began protruding more and more from his chest, pushing his hard nipples through the now paper-thin fabric of his singlet. His strong hands found more room on the swimmer’s ever shrinking quads. He intensified his sucking on the now 7 incher in his mouth. Incoherent sounds escaped Kurt’s mouth and drool dripped from his lips as various sensations overwhelmed his mind. Pleasure, exhaustion, the mild burning sensation that spread to more and more of his muscles, a tingle of what felt like weakness; it all mixed together into the most intense orgasm he’d ever had. Aaron gazed up at the swimmer and a faint smile formed on his lips: his once steroid bloated abs now looked like a runner’s 4-pack; the formerly protruding pecs no longer blocked his view of the swimmer’s face and kept receding into his chest; the deflating quads felt like weak sponges in his swelling hands, his long fingers were almost touching around the shrinking legs; the cock in his mouth was now well below 5 inches and kept shriveling down as it released more loads down his hungry throat. A burning sensation spread in Kurt’s balls as they began protesting from being drained so much. It quickly turned into a stabbing pain that overcame the pleasure of his ongoing orgasm. A loud snapping sound made him open his eyes and look down. His mouth fell open in disbelief: it looked like the hulk was sucking him off. Aaron’s swelling muscles had won the fight against the elastic singlet. The straps snapped and shot loose as the rising traps grew higher and higher, the inflating pecs kept pushing the singlet further and further away from the wrestler’s chest, his thickening and widening lats pulled the fabric backward and outward. The shattered remains draped around his still growing frame as sweat made them stick against and highlight his huge muscles. Kurt stared at the bulging and swelling mounds of muscle on the wrestler’s widening back. He looked down and gasped as he realized where the wrestler’s new size came from: his once majestic, 290 pound body was now a mere 160 and shrinking. He pulled his 4.5 incher from the hungry mouth. Or tried to. Aaron felt the now 150 pound swimmer pulling back his cock. He hardened his hold on the other athlete’s legs, his fingers easily touching around the meager sticks and digging into the now soft muscle, and lifted him off the floor. His tongue effortlessly overpowered the still hard 4 incher and milked out some more cum. Kurt squirmed with all the might left in his weakened body but the huge wrestler’s grip held him in place. His shrinking balls protested with hard, painful, burning stabs as they were emptied from their last, watery drops. He gasped as he noticed that the wrestler’s arms were twice the size of his own legs. His vision went dark and he sank away in unconsciousness as his once hulking body settled in at 90 pounds. Aaron felt the swimmer go limp in his grip. He licked the last drip from the now pathetic cock in his mouth and tossed the once intimidating swimmer aside. The limp, frail body flew across the locker room and crashed down against the furthest row of lockers, failing to dent them on impact. The now 7 feet, 380 pound Aaron stood up and grinned as his big paws roamed the hot surface of his newly grown, hard muscles on his chest. He flexed the protruding rack of beef, making it bounce under his right hand. His left paw explored his eight-pack, tracing in and out the deep ridges separating the strong abs. Sean, Keith and Logan were getting ready to pick up Matt at the hospital as Logan’s phone rang. “Hello?”, he said. … “I thought we could pick him up tonight, doctor?” … “Okay. Tell him we’ll come visit him first thing in the morning. Bye.” Sean and Keith looked at the fallen quarterback. “The hospital”, Logan said, “They have to do some more tests to see if Matt has recovered completely. It will take a few more days before he can leave the hospital.” “I suggest we still leave campus tonight”, Sean stated, “Once Mike and Paul are back from the gym we can take our stuff and move into a hotel room. We have to avoid making contact with Tomas or his gang of muscle freaks.” “Let’s start packing our bags then”, Keith replied and began emptying the closet. Sean and Logan followed his example and soon enough they were packed and ready to go. Tomas and Anton stepped through the large mirror and entered the library. Anton always wondered how his master was able to create these passages. “Just a small proof of my ever-increasing powers, my pet”, Tomas replied to the unspoken question. A faint noise made them look at the center of the vast reading room. A huge, muscled creature was awaiting them at what looked like an altar. “Connor”, Anton said eagerly, excited to discover his new massive size and marched toward the muscle beast his master had grown past his own huge dimensions. “Guess again”, the creature said and turned around. “Alex!”, Anton spat out angrily. Anton noticed how his own muscles clearly outsized Alex’ ones and charged at him. Tomas just stared at the scene and saw his pet storming at the other beast before he could react. “What did you do to Connor?”, Anton bellowed deeply, his voice echoing against the high walls of the vast reading room. He jumped up in the air and launched himself at his adversary. “You’re about to find out”, Alex replied coolly. He made a fist, pulled back his monstrous, 55 inch right arm and threw a punch with all his force. Anton saw the big fist coming at him but couldn’t dodge it as he was mere inches away from his opponent. A loud, sickening, cracking sound sounded as Alex concrete-hard fist collided with Anton’s nose. The 580 pound behemoth flew backward and crashed down several feet away, blood flowing from his flattened nose, knocked out cold by his 500 pound enemy. “Put him on the altar!” Alex looked away from his battered opponent and faced Tomas. He nodded, grabbed Anton, threw him onto his beastly left shoulder and carried him over to the altar. He tossed the 580 pound beast with his back onto the stone altar and stepped back, awaiting further instructions. “Chain him!” Alex squatted down and put the heavy, metal chains around Anton’s wrists and ankles, securing the 580 pound beast firmly atop the altar. “Rip off his clothes!” Alex stood up, his massive quads bulging in the process, and effortlessly ripped off Anton’s skintight clothes, exposing his huge frame. He stared in admiration at the hard masses of beef that protruded from Anton’s body and at the cock, 15 inches of soft meat, that lay over his big bull-sized balls atop the altar. “Have you taken care of the football team?” Tomas’ question pulled Alex from his awe and he faced his master. “I’ve drained Logan’s muscles to get huge myself. I’ve trashed the others during practice. Matt’s still in the hospital and Mike and Paul know who’s boss”, he said. “Not good enough”, Tomas reacted, “I have to be sure they won’t interfere with the ritual. You’re the champion from Hell mentioned in the ancient manuscript. You’ve taken down several men despite them out sizing you, even when I had beefed up Connor some more…” “It just felt natural to take him on”, Alex interrupted, “ The instant he entered my room I just felt an urge to prove I could take him. I didn’t…” Tomas shut him up with a sign from his hand. “No need to apologize, champion”, Tomas said, “I hadn’t read the entire manuscript until then. I thought that Anton was the champion of Hell ‘cause he had defeated Sean and Keith. I already had my doubts when he said that Connor had beaten him in arm wrestling. The true champion would never lose a physical challenge, not even something silly as a arm wrestling. When Connor mentioned your name, I dove into your mind and saw the incredible amount of aggressiveness waiting to break free. I discovered you had always bullied other kids despite your puny size. So I decided to give you the body to match that aggressiveness.” “But why did you make Connor grow after our first fight?”, Alex asked, “You knew I was the champ”. “I wanted a final test to be sure”, Tomas replied with a grin, “I knew that if you could take down a 100 pound bigger opponent, no one would be able to stop you. Why did Aaron revealed Connor’s weak spot, you think? Some infernal inspiration I put into his mind at that time. You’ve trashed Connor three times: in the locker room, in the shower zone and finally in the wrestle hall. And now, you’ve knocked out my pet with one blow.” The smug grin on Alex’ face got wider and wider as he listened to Tomas. “Now that I’ve decrypted the manuscript completely, everything has become clear to me”, Tomas continued, “Sean and Keith aren’t necessary for the ritual: Anton has absorbed their muscles. He’s the ultimate sacrifice needed to set things in motion at the stroke of midnight.” “And what about Connor?”, Alex asked. “You may keep him, champ”, Tomas answered, “I’ve seen you put him in Aaron’s van and know what you and Aaron are up to. Soon I’ll command the armies of Hell and hordes of infernal creatures will carry out every order I give. Until then, I have one final assignment for you. Matt is in room 302 of the hospital. Go and do what must be done. Aaron will take care off Mike and Paul. Then you guys may go to the south and live your life. But be aware: there might be a day when I call you, champ, and Aaron back in action. Now go!” Alex nodded and exited the library, heading toward the hospital for his final assignment. Aaron ended his self worship. The same voice that had ordered him to reveal Connor’s weakness to Alex during their fight, now ordered him turn around. Aaron turned his head and noticed the sound of running water. He hadn’t noticed it before, being focused on sucking off Kurt and then worshipping his own, beefed up frame. He swaggered over to the shower zone and the sound of two voices mixed in with that of the running water. He entered the actual shower area and discovered two heavily muscled football players under the showers at the furthest wall. Mike and Paul were enjoying a long, hot shower after their grueling workout. “Man, doesn’t it feel great being back in the gym”, Mike said to his buddy. “Yeah”, Paul replied, “the pump’s incredible after a week off. I’ve never been this hard after training since my first workout in high school. Feels like I could explode right here.” Mike glanced aside and saw his 275 pound teammate’s rock hard, 10 inch cock pointing straight at the tilled wall they were facing as he soaped his pumped muscles. “You horny dog”, he said laughingly and gently stroked his own semi-hard cock as he let the hot water rain down on his 263 pound frame. “Alpha dog, you mean”, Paul answered grinningly, “biggest, strongest, most muscular and horniest man on the team.” His untouched 10 incher throbbed as he spoke. “We’re gonna ace those practice tests”, Mike stated and kept stroking his own, further hardening cock A shadow fell over them. A big, strong hand grabbed onto their round shoulders and span them around. Before they could react, the strong hand pressed against their protruding chests and pushed their backs against the tilled wall. Mike and Paul stared at the massive, black man in front of them: he outsized them by at least 100 pounds of rock hard muscle that had ripped his singlet to pieces. They felt like deer caught in a headlight and didn’t budge. “For every round your cocks shall blast, 10 pounds of muscle shall be past” Paul’s already throbbing 10 incher exploded instantly and blasted load after load of cum onto the wrestler’s abdomen. Mike’s cock followed this lead and jolted to complete hardness in his hand. After Paul’s fourth load, it began shooting his own man juice onto the abs in front of him. “YEAGH!” Aaron boomed in triumph, closed his eyes and tilted back his head. He heard the football player’s cum splatter against his eight-pack and felt the heat spreading through his 7 feet, 380 pound body. Paul’s horned up body kept blasting out cum at an incredible rate: for every load Mike’s 8 incher shot, his 10 incher produced three. He and Mike stared at their cum drenching the hard abs in front of them while orgasm raced through them. Aaron’s eight-pack was completely covered by the massive amount of sticky cum the football players kept pumping out. Not a single drop of it slid down onto the floor, though. The cum quickly absorbed into his frame, spreading into his muscles to feed them. The warmth throughout his 380 pound body kept increasing, announcing an even more impressive growth than in the locker room. “Augh”, Aaron grunted as his body began its growth into pure godhood. Mike and Paul gaped at the lengthening wrestler in front of them. Their eyes widened as they felt their bodies being stretched upward: the wrestler’s hands pushed them against the wall and slowly travelled upward, pulling both their 263 and 275 pound bodies along on his way toward the ceiling. The football player’s calves flexed into hard, diamond-shaped mounds as they were forced to stand on their toes to accord to the wrestler’s rising. The whole time their still stubbornly hard cocks kept splattering cum against the abdomen wrapped in ripped remains of the singlet. Aaron felt his lengthening slowing down: his body stopped going upward as it reached 9 feet. The warmth shifted from his bones and made its way into the wrestler’s still unchanged, yet already huge muscles. Pleasure wrote itself all across Aaron’s handsome, square and masculinity-screaming face. “Muugh. Yeah!”, he grunted between his clenched teeth as the next phase of his growth began. Paul and Mike noticed and recognized the look of pure ecstasy on the wrestler’s face. They gulped, their tongues scraping in their dry mouths, as they saw the huge muscles on the towering frame in front of them bulging with new mass. By now their balls were completely dry and the infernal spell was transforming their hard earned muscles into cum that escaped their diminishing frames through their blasting cocks. Paul’s 10 incher maintained its higher frequency but since his balls were way bigger than Mike’s, his muscles began shrinking at about the same time as Mike’s. The football players didn’t notice their own decrease as they were still overcome by the feeling of orgasm coursing through them and the impressive sight before them. “YEAGH!” Aaron’s huge muscles soaked up the warmth like sponges. His calves exploded from the back of his long legs as the diamond-shaped muscle doubled in size; his nicely round ass ballooned outward as his hamstrings swelled with rock-hard mass; his kneecaps looked ridiculously tiny and were totally obscured by the prominent and large teardrop-shape that bulged at the edges of his quads; cuts, striations and veins pushed against the paper-thin skin as the cords of muscle in his quads inflated outwards, thickening his long legs beyond the size of a normal tree. Mike and Paul couldn’t believe what they were seeing. A mixture of weakness and fatigue began dominating the orgasm exploding through them. An increasing burn spread painfully in their flexed calves. Mike broke his gaze from the broadening beast and looked down. He inhaled sharply as he discovered his own diminishing frame: his once huge, 263 pound body was now well beyond 200 pounds and going down even further. The wrestler’s big paw now covered his chest almost completely and he could feel the increasing strength as it pushed him harder and harder against the tilled wall. He looked aside and saw that Paul was undergoing the same changes and looked already smaller than him. “Paul! Paul!”, he said to his buddy. Paul didn’t react. His big balls and naturally through-the-roof level of testosterone combined with the insane pump and horned-up state from his workout intensified his trance. He’d been on the verge of orgasm under the shower before Aaron appeared and that had made him very susceptible to the infernal spell. The muscles on his once 275, now 175 pound body were pulled into his balls, transformed into cum and blasted out at high speed as the orgasm of a lifetime overwhelmed him completely. Mike saw the pleasure-filled expression on his buddy’s face and knew he was totally off. He tried punching Paul with his left arm but couldn’t reach him: the wrestler holding them was broadening and pulled them further apart. “MORE” Aaron groaned in pleasure, tilting back his head further and keeping his eyes closed as he savored in the pleasure and warmth of the growth. This felt so much better than his first growth in the locker room. His huge torso followed the example of his legs and grew to godlike dimensions. His cum-drenched abdomen swelled harder and bigger, turning from eight-pack into a 12-pack; the canyons separating the large, cobblestone-sized muscles were at least an inch deep; all the while, they kept absorbing the cum and turning it into fuel for his growth; his half-watermelon-sized pecs, inflated with more rock-hard mass as they turned into and then surpassed the size of whole watermelons; the thick, striated, vein-infested slabs of beef protruded from his chest, looking like two broad pillows shoved underneath the paper-thin, black skin; his round, broad delts pumped up with meat like two balloons being inflated; they swelled larger than cannonballs, the separations between the individual heads of the muscles clearly visible, capping his broader-than-two-wide-doors shoulders with perfectly round, globes of beef. Mike felt his body go weaker and weaker as more of his muscles escaped him through his cock. He knew there was no way he could reach his buddy anymore. He would have to break free from the giant’s hold as soon as possible if he wanted to maintain some of his muscles. The fear of being drained down completely fought with the pleasure in his mind and he felt the cursed orgasm beginning to cool down. The loads of cum blasted less frequently from his cock. He bit on his tongue hard and the pain overpowered the lessened orgasm. His cock began deflating instantly and an agonizing pain stabbed in his drained balls. The second his cock stopped blasting out cum, the hand on his chest released its grip and he slumped down on the tilled floor. Mike summoned every ounce of strength left in his fatigued, 140 pound body and slowly crept toward the exit. Before leaving the shower zone, he looked back and saw Paul’s feet leaving the floor as he shriveled down further in the growing giant’s grip. Aaron had sensed Mike’s spent orgasm and had released him instantly: he didn’t want to lose any time on a dried source. He focused his entire attention on the other football player and kept his eyes shut as he concentrated on the pleasure of his growth. Atop his now beastly shoulders, his traps swelled into pillars of meat that doubled his strong neck in size; the thick vein travelling from the top of his pillow-sized chest over his larger-than-cannonballs-sized delts aside his biceps, began pumping warmth and energy into his arms; his thick, low-hanging triceps jolted lower at the back of his arms, doubling them in size as the horseshoe-sized muscles beefed up with steely hard mass; his biceps simply shot upward, swelling into vein-covered bowling balls of raw power; it seemed like someone was pouring hard concrete into them as they turned into 60 inch orbs of ripped meat; his forearms, now effortlessly holding onto the pathetic football player, tripled in size as the cable-like cords of muscles wove themselves thicker and broader along his long forearms; his paws grew accordingly and half of his right hand now covered Paul’s chest completely. Paul’s incredible orgasm wore down and he opened his eyes. He felt totally disorientated and weak. He could feel his feet dangling in the air and something was pressing hard into his chest and shoving him against the tilled wall. He gasped loudly, a high pitch escaping his mouth, as he saw the huge paw that looked as large as his now pathetic torso. His gaze followed the impossibly wide forearm, marveling at the thick veins feeding the cords of muscle, travelled upward to the mountain-like, yet relaxed bicep, licking his lips in awe, and finally looked up into the face of the god that held him. When the final tingle of growth subsided in his now 9 feet, 700 pound godlike body, Aaron opened his eyes and stared straight into the diminished football player’s eyes. He pulled him closer to his body, his massive 60 inch arm not even bulging: the 75 pound fallen jock felt like a feather in his grasp. Paul shivered in the god’s paw: never before had he felt this weak. Fear filled his mind as he realized that he was completely in the grasp of the muscle god; the man could break him by simply clenching his fist. Fear mixed with lust as his eyes roamed the bulging mounds of hard, striated beef that fought for room on the wrestler’s incredible physique. The god’s deep dark, paper-thin skin highlighted the huge muscles beyond anything he’d ever seen. His now feeble 2 inch cock hardened at the sight. “So, you called yourself an alpha dog”, Aaron boomed. The rich, deeper-than-a-subwoofer baritone echoed across the shower zone, engulfed Paul and vibrated deeply in his body. “Ughn”, he peeped in his now high-pitched, girly voice as his 2 incher pumped a final load from his pee-sized balls and shot it from his shaft. Aaron saw the smaller-than-a-water-drop load coming and caught it on his tongue. “Ah, a final coat”, he said as he felt the effect instantly on his body. “So, mister alpha dog”, he said as he turned his attention back to Paul, “you look more like a weak kitten to me. A bug in my grasp, ready to be crushed.” “No, please”, Paul peeped, “I’ll do anything you say”. Aaron didn’t listen. He simply clenched his fist, breaking every bone in Paul’s pathetic body and tossed the lifeless football player in the furthest corner of the shower zone. He swaggered over into the locker room and marveled as he pulled on his former clothes and they magically adjusted to his new frame. In the library Tomas had everything ready for the upcoming ritual. He had followed the action in the shower zone through the mirror and was very pleased: soon all of his threats would have been dealt with and nothing would stop him from ruling the earth. He looked aside as he heard the sound of rattling chains. Anton regained consciousness after the hard blow to his face. A severe pain pounded in his nose on the rhythm of his heartbeat. He tried touching his battered nose but heavy chains held his arms in place. “Shit, Alex has tied me down”, he thought as he saw Tomas appear next to him. “Ah, you’re awake, my pet”, Tomas said to Anton, “just in time for the ritual”. “Let me go, Tomas”, Aton pleaded, “Alex could be back any minute”. “Alex won’t be back”, Tomas replied, “he’s carrying out his assignment as we speak. He secured you like I ordered him to do.” “What? You ordered him? Why?”, Anton yelled in disbelief and rattled his chains more violently. “You have a special place in the upcoming ritual, my pet”, Tomas answered, “Since you’ve absorbed muscles from both Keith and Sean, you can easily take their place.” “Take their place? How?”, Anton asked while trying to get free, flexing his huge muscles in the process. “Don’t you get it? You’re the sacrifice that will initiate the ritual! Image the supreme honor you have!”, Tomas replied. “Sacrifice?...”, Anton yelled but froze mid-phrase as Tomas rammed his cock into his ass. “Yes, my pet”, Tomas grunted in between violent trusts, “you’re the counterweight that’ll let me open the gates of Hell!”. He shoved his engorged 15 incher back and forth in his pet’s tight ass and groped his thick, bulging rack of pecs. “But… I’ve protected you from that priest. Helped you take down Sean and Keith.”, Anton pleaded, pulling at the chains with all his might. “Yeah, flex those muscles”, Tomas grunted, his 15 incher exploded in his pet’s ass as he felt the incredibly dense pecs harden into concrete-like slabs of beef under his touch. “You’ve served me very well and you know… I’m gonna miss the feeling of my cock jammed up your tight, muscular ass. But your time has come to fulfill your destiny: sink into the darkest depths of Hell to open its gates for my armies of evil!”, Tomas said and pulled his cock from his pet’s ass and went over to the corner of the reading room to get some rest before the ritual, leaving Anton fighting against the chains in vain. “Please, let me go. I’ll do anything you say”, Anton begged in vain. At the hospital, Alex had effortlessly discovered the fire exit like Tomas had explained. He quickly mounted the iron stairs to the third floor and moved to the second window on his left. He glanced through it and smiled as he saw Matt lying on his bed. He silently opened the window and stepped into the room. Matt was actually enjoying his stay in the hospital. He was safe here and the nurses were very kind, especially that 20-something blonde that had helped him this morning. It had begun with her gently washing his battered torso, groping his muscular chest with her frail hands and him flexing them under her touch. By the time she had reached his abs, both of them had been breathing fast and he’d seen the lust in her eyes. He’d gotten up, locked the door and positioned her against the wall and fucked her right there. The light touch of her delicate hands and the excited noises she’d whispered in his ear, he’d sent him over the edge in record time. She’d even came back in the afternoon to ‘check on his condition’. The thought of her made his cock harden, making a tent under the sheets. Suddenly, the sheets were pulled violently away. “Excited to see me?” Matt recognized the deep voice and shivers of fear crossed his 255 pound body. He reached up to grab the alarm but a large paw pressed down hard on his chest. Pain exploded through him as his broken ribs protested against the harsh treatment. Alex grabbed the alarm above Matt’s head and simply yanked it from the wall before tossing it across the room. “HELP! HELP!”, Matt yelled in panic, struggling against his tormentor. Alex grabbed a sheet and shoved it into Matt’s open mouth, silencing his screams. “For every round you’re cock shall blast, 10 pounds of muscle shall be past!” Before Matt could react, his rigid cock jolted to full hardness and throbbed in the air. He tried holding back his orgasm, but as his rock-hard 8 incher was engulfed by the wet hotness of Alex’ mouth, he lost it. His balls churned and began pumping away his mass into the already massive beast looming over him. Alex smiled as he swallowed load after load of cum, his own cock rock-hard in his pants from excitement. He sucked with all his force, teasing and overpowering the shaft with his tongue to force out as much as possible. His growth began instantly. His body sprang upward until it settled in at just over 9 feet. His legs exploded with mass: his diamond shaped calves simply doubled in size, his hamstrings amassing more hard mass below his juicy, rock-hard ass that ballooned into two perfectly round bowling balls of beef, his already tree-sized quads bulged menacingly as the thick cords of muscle forming them, jolted outward with more mass; his tight pants stretched and stretched and adapted to his new size as Tomas had promised. He could see the titanic mass of hard, striated, vein-infested meat through his pants; he flexed his quads, making the outlines and cuts of the hard muscles dance underneath the skintight fabric. Matt tried fighting against the growing beast that was sucking him dry. He felt more and more muscle disappear from his well-trained physique and a great weakness spreading through his body. He squirmed and budged, ignoring the sharp pain from his protesting ribs. Alex did no longer notice the weakening attempts to break free in his own empowering grip. He focused on the pleasure of his growth and let his muscles swell him straight into godhood. His strong 12-pack stretched and beefed up as the cobblestone-sized muscles hardened, deepening the canyons between them even more; his huge pecs pumped up with mass, making his nipples point straight down to the ground and protruding threateningly from his chest, casting shadows over the top half of his armor-like abs; striations, outlined against his protesting yet adapting, skintight shirt, rippled across the wide surface as he breathed in and out. Energy left Matt’s body as it sank below 150 pounds. His struggle in Alex’ grip didn’t even budge the beast’s fingers anymore and the swelling hand atop his battered torso felt heavier and heavier with every passing second and now covered his flattening chest completely and even part of his vanishing abs. Meanwhile, Alex’ inflating monster dick had freed itself from his skintight jeans. It escaped from its fabric prison, pulsing with power as it pointed straight forward along the bottom of the hospital bed. The lengthening and thickening shaft grew past its impressive 20 inches as fat veins pumped more mass into it. It strengthened further with every inch it grew and began pushing against the bottom of the bed, lifting it slowly as the throbbing shaft amassed even more length and girth. Matt tried kicking the giant in the ribs, but his weak kicks bounced off the growing god’s muscular flanks. He gave up the fight and let tears roll over his cheeks as he watched his own body shrivel down to skeleton-like skinniness and felt his bed undulating on the rhythm of the beast’s inflating monster cock. The weak kicks felt like a tingle against his strong obliques and Alex simply intensified his sucking on the shrinking dick in his mouth. His boulder-like shoulders widened further as his hard delts swelled with mass; their perfect roundness dwarfed cannonballs, passed into and just beyond the size of large bowling balls and accentuated his already incredible v-taper further. His body knew his love for his oversized biceps and the epitome of Alex’ growth concentrated on his majestic arms. They had been swelling steadily alongside the instant growth of his other muscles, but now that those had reached their new dimensions, their growth kicked into overdrive. Matt sank away deeper and deeper as his vital energy kept being drained away. He was now well below 80 pounds and every visible muscle had already evaporated from his body. It even took a great effort to keep his eyes open. Black dots danced at the edges of his field of vision as he stared at the swelling god sucking on his now nearly disappeared cock. Alex felt the intense growth of his arms and upped his sucking on the tiny dick; the head of the pencil-thin cock barely made it past his own lips anymore. His triceps beefed up at the back of his arms; low hanging cords of beef that easily withstood the pull of gravity, that screamed power by the cuts and veins decorating them, the size of 10 horseshoes forged together; his biceps mounded upward as rock-hard meat found its way into the orbs, turning them into hideously large, beach ball-sized mountains crisscrossed with river-like veins that outsized Alex’ head as he flexed his left arm to check his canons. He relaxed his arm, grabbed Matt’s puny balls and clenched them hard. A faint grunt, no louder than the sound of a fly, escaped between Matt’s frail lips. The last energy was forced from his body as the god’s paw crushed his balls. Matt passed out, nothing more than a dry mummy, at the same time the god’s 30 inch, monster cock throbbed violently and tipped over his bed as it exploded violently, coating the room with his superior cum. Alex got up breathing hard, put his slowly deflating cock in his skintight pants and headed for the window. Realizing he would no longer fit through it, he hit the wall with his right shoulder, busting right through it and disappeared into the night. Back at Orchid university, Tomas began his incantations at the altar in the library. “Penates meorum, spirites infernae, audite precationam meam! Accipite hanc victima! Da mei imperium exerciti infernae!” Anton put every ounce of strength he could summon of his huge muscles into his struggle against the rusty chains. He wiggled and tore, striations and veins exploding over his immense body in the process, but the hellish irons easily held his 580 pounds in place. He pleaded in panic but his master didn’t listen. Tears began flowing over his cheeks as he felt the altar begin to shudder. “Bestia mea victima est! Fortia per potentia! Aperte portas infernae!” Howling, hideous bats suddenly appeared and circled above the sacrifice on the altar. Anton shivered in fear as the beasts dove to him, evading his majestic body by altering their flight at the very last moment. He screamed in horror as the black bats crapped all over his torso: the stinking fluid burned into him and seemed to pull him into the stone altar. The last thing he saw was his master looking down on him and then the altar gave away and he felt his 580 pounds of muscle plummet into the unfathomable depths of Hell. A deafening thunder rolled over Orchid university, shaking the majestic buildings violently as Anton disappeared into Hell. A shinning, red vortex emerged were the altar had been and hordes of dark, hideously deformed, soldier like creatures jumped from it. They kneeled in front of Tomas, awaiting his orders. “Bring me world domination”, Tomas bellowed loudly. The creatures jumped up and scattered off to all directions; new soldiers jumping from the vortex as the others left the library. Sean, Keith and Logan wondered what took Mike and Paul and headed to the gym to find their buddies. The loud thunder made them jump up and look at each other. “Tomas must have began the ritual”, Keith said, “Let’s hurry and find Mike and Paul and disappear from campus!”. The three fallen athletes rushed over to the gym. They looked around the deserted room and barged into the locker room. The deflated, now 120 pound Mike looked up as he heard the door from the gym open. He weakly extended his skinny arm in the direction of his friends. Sean, Keith and Logan recognized their formerly very well muscled buddy and fear filled them. “What happened and where’s Paul?”, Logan asked as he kneeled down by his teammate. “Aaron stole our size under the shower. He killed Paul. Crushed him in his grip”, Mike muttered weakly, tears flowing from his eyes. Before Sean, Keith or Logan could react, the door of the locker room flew open and several howling creatures threw themselves on them. The weak boys were no match for the hellish legions in Tomas’ command: unhesitatingly the hideous soldiers slaughtered the four buddies and continued their invasion of the university. Alex and Aaron hadn’t lost a single second: once Aaron had drained Mike and Paul, he’d returned to his van, had knocked out the slowly awaking Connor and had driven off. He’d picked up the now humongous Alex at the back of the hospital and they had left town at full speed. A few hours later, they had reached a luxurious villa hidden in the mountains of northern Mexico. “Tomas has rewarded us well”, Aaron said appreciatively as he scanned the outside of the immense villa. “Ah, you have arrived!” Aaron and Alex turned to the car and saw Tomas’ face in one of the windows. “I’ve arranged everything, my champs”, Tomas said, “There are two blind servants awaiting you inside.” “Why blind ones?”, Aaron asked. “They will keep contact with the outside world when they go shopping. They will be unable to reveal your incredible size since they cannot see you. Enjoy your reward but remember that I can call you guys in action any minute. Don’t keep me waiting then or you’ll suffer the fate of my enemies!” Alex and Aaron stared at their own reflections in the car window as Tomas’ face disappeared from it. The two muscle gods entered their new home and grinned as they scanned the room. Alex ordered their two servants to go shopping for huge quantities of food and sent them off. “I’m gonna take a dive in the pool. You take care off Connor”, Alex said and swaggered outside toward the pool. Aaron looked at his fellow muscle god, seeing him strip and dive into the pool. He returned to the van, pulled out the still knocked out Connor, threw the 600 pound wrestler on his beastly, perfectly round, bowling ball-sized shoulder and walked back into the villa. A sudden illumination hit his mind and Aaron strutted toward the basement. As he left the stairs behind, he walked through a large wrestle room, the walls entirely covered with mirrors from floor the ceiling. He lowered Connor from his shoulder and tossed him down on the mats in the center of the room. He continued walking and smiled broadly as he opened the door at the back of the wrestle room: a fully equipped gym with impossible amounts of weights. He left the door open, ripped off his shirt, loaded the bar above one of the benches and began bench pressing 500 pounds, blood pumping into his massive pecs as he blasted out rep after rep. He racked the bar as he heard a faint sound and got up from the bench. Connor regained consciousness and looked around. Disorientation and a slight headache filled his mind as he scanned the room. He got up slowly, realizing he was in a wrestle room but didn’t know where he was. “Good! You’re awake.” The deep, rich, thunder-like baritone that filled the room and rattled the mirrors made him turn around. Connor looked up in awe and surprise at the titanic, shirtless beast entering the room and coming toward him. His eyes roamed the humongous, ripped muscles highlighted by the giant’s paper-thin, black skin. His mouth fell open in disbelief as he gazed up at the strong and squared jaw line, covered by a stubbly beard on the masculinity oozing face. “God”, he muttered as his brain recognized the black teammate he’d tossed around the wrestle hall back at university earlier that day. “That’s the right way to address me: GOD!,” Aaron boomed as he stopped in front of Connor. He grinned as he saw the wrestler scanning the huge mounds of muscle on his godlike frame. “Funny how quickly things can change”, Aaron said, “this morning you’ve ridiculed me in the gym in front of the entire wrestle team…” “I’m sorry”, Connor said in his deep voice, realizing how high-pitched it sounded next to Aaron’s baritone rumble, “I didn’t…” “Then you’ve trashed me in the wrestle hall”, Aaron continued, drowning Connor’s voice in his thunder-like baritone, “I want a rematch”. Connor gulped at these words. He looked up at the one foot taller muscle god’s face. Aaron saw the look of fear in the wrestler’s eyes and smirked. “You were more than twice my weight this morning. I only outweigh ya by a 100 pounds. And you’re already dressed for it. Let’s do this!”, he said coolly. Connor looked down and discovered he was still wearing his ripped singlet. He realized there was no escaping this fight, inhaled deeply and took his starting position in front of the muscle god, trying to ignore how the god’s impossibly wide shoulders eclipsed his own insanely broad ones. “Ready when you are, boy”, Aaron said. Connor’s wrestle instincts knew he had to take this beast by surprise and he jolted into action. He shot forward and grabbed hold of his opponent’s thick, muscular neck with his left hand while his right hand shot upward. Aaron anticipated this move and copied it: the instant Connor’s hand positioned itself atop his neck, his own left paw grabbed the wrestler’s neck, covering it easily; his right paw interlocked with the wrestler’s big, right hand, engulfing it completely. Connor tried to ignore how the muscle god dwarfed him and focused back on the match. He knew his surprise attack had failed and tapped onto his own devastating strength. He pulled with all his might on his opponent’s thickly muscled neck, his 50 inch bicep bulging with power and the cords of muscles on his broad forearms swelling from the effort. Aaron smiled as he saw the 600 pound wrestler’s face turn red from the immense effort. He slightly flexed his legs, making his monster quads harden a bit but easily withstood the superhuman force. Connor grunted from the effort, feeling the warmth spreading through his reddening face. The large paw on his neck forced him to look down as it began overpowering his strong traps and he gasped as he noticed the slowly flexing quads of the god in front of him. He pulled even harder on his opponent’s neck, his 50 inch arm shaking from the effort, but the muscle god didn’t budge. “Oh! You’ve already begun”, Aaron said mockingly and put some tension on his own 60 inch arm, making his paw sink into the flexed traps atop the wrestler’s neck. Connor responded to the attack by fully flexing his titanic quads. The huge muscle bulged outward as the thick cords of rock hard beef swelled into incredible hardness. Panic flickered through his mind as his huge, 600 pound body was slowly dragged toward the muscle god despite his efforts. Aaron grinned as he saw the struggle and efforts turning the wrestler’s face into a beat red, mask of pain. He tapped onto the full force of his 60 inch arm and pulled the giant in his grasp swiftly toward him. Connor didn’t know what happened: one moment he was struggling with all his might to maintain his ground, the next his face slammed into the protruding slabs of concrete-hard, hot meat that protruded from the god’s chest. The huge paw engulfing his own right hand released its hold and instantly a forearm, thicker than a young tree, wrapped itself around his broad lower back like a huge snake across a prey; a hard, cannonball-sized bicep dug into his strong obliques. The paw digging into his neck, slid upward, grabbed the back of his head and pushed him into the deep canyon separating the protruding pecs. Aaron enjoyed overpowering the giant that had played with him a few hours earlier. “Coach was always yakking about technique, but nothings beats the feeling of simply dominating an opponent with raw strength”, Aaron said into Connor’s ear and hardened his hold. Connor tried resisting the muscle god, but his strength could not be denied. He was smacked even harder against the hot masses of hard meat covering the 9 feet frame. His nose was filled with the masculine scent of sweat and musk deep inside the canyon between the muscle god’s pecs. His tongue traced the contours of the striated, pillow-sized muscles, filling his mouth with the salty taste of male sweat as it found the bottom of the deep canyon. Aaron felt the tickly sensation of the slick tongue between his pecs and pulled the 600 pound wrestler harder into his own humongous frame as he flexed his chest. Connor felt the protruding slabs of meat harden, nearly braking his nose by the sheer force they produced. The tip of his tongue disappeared into the deepened striations it snaked along. His hands roamed the impossibly wide back, discovering hard, prominent mounds of beef that bulged from the effort and fought for space on the broad surface. His long cock hardened against the hard mass of the muscle god’s left quad. Aaron felt the hardening snake of meat swelling against his beastly quad. He flexed his leg, overpowering and trapping the inflating cock between his own quad and the wrestler’s one. He felt his own majestic, monster cock going plump. He released his hold and pushed the wrestler down. “Suck off your god, boy”, he said as he ripped off his own pants to free his growing monster. Connor sank to his knees as the muscle god pushed him down. He marveled at the lengthy, black snake hardening quickly between the bigger-than-a-tree-sized quads. His own 20 incher was rock-hard as his hand made contact with the god’s cock. He couldn’t close his big hand around the growing cock’s girth. He tried denting it by clenching his strong fist, but the swelling snake resisted and even pried open his grip as it kept inflating. Aaron shivered as he felt the steely grip clenching around his hardening dick, his divine muscles flexing slightly in the process. “Too weak, boy”, he said as his cock overpowered the strong grip. Connor released the thick cock and it smacked him hard in the face as it jolted upward to stick out straight from the muscle god’s body. He gasped as he stared directly at the 35 inch, thick, black snake crisscrossed with veins. He opened his mouth as widely as possible and took in the cone apple-sized head. Aaron grunted in pleasure as the hot slickness of the giant’s mouth engulfed the head of his monster cock. He grabbed the back of the wrestler’s head and pushed his cock deeper into his mouth. Connor’s strong jaws protested painfully as his mouth was forced wide open to adjust to the thick snake invading it. He gagged as the thick head hit the back of his throat. Less than half of the muscle god’s cock was inside his mouth. He couldn’t even suck the thick, black snake as it completely filled his mouth and pried open his jaws. His legs were suddenly lifted up as two strong paws grabbed onto his quads. He grunted in pain as a hot, broad rod invaded his ass. “Not letting you have all the fun”, Alex said to Aaron as he pushed his 30 incher into Connor’s muscular ass. Aaron felt Connor grunt against his monster cock and shoved it in even deeper; now that Connor was held upright by Alex he could push his dick through his throat and into his esophagus. Connor grabbed hold of the muscle god’s juicy ass for support, his own 20 incher throbbing wildly in the air as his nose was shoved against the black man’s pubes and he felt Alex pubes rubbing against his own ass, impaling him on their monster cocks. Alex and Aaron stared at each other, lusting over and admiring the incredible size they had grown into. They felt pleasure flood their bodies and began fucking the 600 pound muscle beast with full force. Pain mixed with pleasure as the two gods ravaged his body. Connor’s 20 incher exploded onto the wrestle mats as orgasm rolled over him like a tsunami of electrical jolts shooting through his body. His huge muscles contracted and he would have bucked violently but Aaron’s firm body and Alex’ steely grip easily held him in place. The muscle beast’s orgasm sent the two muscle gods over the edge. Alex’ balls contracted and his 30 incher shot load after load of superior cum up the muscular ass it was devastating and right into the wrestler’s intestines. Aaron’s thick 35 inch snake spew its salty load past the muscle beast’s throat, injecting it straight into his stomach. Connor’s own orgasm cooled down after a few minutes but the gods kept filling him with their juices. His strong 12-pack began bloating and his stomach protested as the massive amount of cum inflated it further and further. Cum poured from his ass alongside Alex’ 30 incher as it was shoved in and out; cum flowed from the corners of his mouth dripping against the thick, black snake Aaron was pounding his mouth with. As he felt like he was going to explode, the gods withdrew from his ass and mouth and let him fall down onto the mats covered in his own cum. Connor stared up at the muscle gods towering over him, realizing he had been reduced to their 600 pound boy toy… Meanwhile, the hideous creatures of Tomas’ infernal army were flooding the town were Orchid university was located. Police officers tried in vain to resist the hordes of undead soldiers but were overrun by the continuous stream of hellish legions. Within three hours, Tomas was in full command of the city and sent his armies swarming out all over the state, slaying any resistance they met.
  21. Check out the previous four parts here: Part 5: The Changes Are Everywhere “No…..no…..stop moving…..I will have to kill you…..I warned you…..uhhhh” Before the dream goes any further, Valentin always wakes up. He has had to revisit it over and over again for weeks, maybe even months at a time. Those few crazy weeks from a couple of years ago where he had to vanquish Domino, Carlos, and a few others keeps being replayed in his mind for some reason and he can’t quite figure out why. He is breathing heavily from where the dream ends and has once again soaked the bed in Bulgarian sweat. A cool breeze is flowing through his Canadian apartment but it isn’t enough to stop the steam emanating from his naked olive skin. He jumps to his feet and walks over to the bathroom light to turn it on. He stares into the mirror and places his right hand over top of the scars he received from that day. Sometimes he wonders if having an immunity to all were viruses is a curse rather than a blessing. He hasn’t spoken to his wishmaster in several years and thinks that maybe he should go visit him in the near future to show him what has resulted from the gift he gave him. For now though, he needs to focus all of his energy on not only stopping the new lycanthrope invasion, but also to build himself up physically. He is scanning his hairy wet body with his hazel-colored eyes and is noticing how much bigger he is now compared to where he was before he started taking the serum. It was formulated for him by Dr. Genesis, a man he met last year after making the move to Canada. The man was given a book that was found at the company where the original lycanthrope massacre occurred. It was discovered by Nathan and Roman after most of the dead bodies were taken to the morgue in a false wall. It appeared that Domino and the organization he worked for were trying to hide their scientific secrets from the Bulgarians fearing that it would end up in the hands of someone in Sofia. The three men managed to get out the facility before the emergency personnel got there. At the time, nobody could understand why the van was completely destroyed, but later on they would get their answer. They ended up having to hide in a nearby storage facility by breaking into one of the units. They stayed there until morning when Valentin told the other two men that they needed to find a way out of the city before they would be sought by the authorities. They agreed and went their separate ways from the Bulgarian. That would be the last time he would see them. He also thought it would be a good idea to keep a low profile for a while so he disappeared. He however also realized after that ordeal that he would need to focus more on matching up with his opponents and not letting them overtake him anymore. He immediately started a new training program shortly after in solitude. He was decently built from when he had to deal with Domino’s wolfy side since he knew that he would probably have to protect himself if something were to go wrong through their interactions. He is now rubbing his left hand along each of the other scars he has earned since the massacre located on his thick, furry pecs and the huge slabs beneath them. He is amazed that he has been able to transform himself into the man that he is now. “I am still learning more about myself every day it appears. I wonder how much further I can go with this serum.” He takes his right hand off of his wide neck to do a few flexes in the mirror with his arms. He leans in to stare at the huge garden hoses bulging from his softball-sized forearms as they stretch all the way up to his furry bloated shoulders. He stops flexing to look down at the sink and picks up a vial full of a clear fluid. He unscrews the dropper from the top and sticks it up to his mouth. He opens and lifts his tongue to place two drops of the fluid underneath before closing his mouth and screwing the dropper back on to the top of the vial. He puts it down back to where it was sitting and stands back about a foot from the mirror. He is completely nude as he turns to his side and then turns slightly to take a look at his backside as it is aimed at the mirror. He starts flexing again, this time to make his back flare outward. He still can’t fathom how he got this big so quickly. He has seen a few bodybuilders up in Canada pose like this so he wanted to know how it felt since he is getting to their level. He can feel his lats pushing his arms out even further to his sides as his delts and traps swell even bigger than before he took the serum just now. He can feel the hormones starting to flow through him and it is making his cock expand and lengthen as a result. Before he started taking the serum several months ago, he was never able to precum, but that all changed after just a couple of doses. A small ribbon of the sticky goo is slowly rolling down the side of his shaft and it is coating his swollen golf-ball sized testicles. He is feeling pretty good now. He is now flexing his furry quads and hamstrings, watching the thick striations in both legs ripple and glisten in the light. The layer of dark-colored Bulgarian fur is much thicker than he remembers, but he loves that he is able to cover what used to be barren areas of his body. The sensations from the serum are now traveling from his crotch all the way down to his feet. He loves the way the serum makes him feel after having a stressful dream, and it is more pleasurable than using his own hand on his cock. He is proud of growing his huge ass from all of those grueling squats he has endured over the past several months as well. He rubs both glutes with his hands and caresses the fur that is over top of them. He checks his anus and makes it wink a couple of times and chuckles to himself. He found out that he preferred being a bottom back when he was with Domino, but with his thicker frame now, it has opened the door to new possibilities including overpowering bigger lovers. He grunts feeling his balls filling up with fresh cum and it is now making his ass ache. He really needs to be with someone at that moment that can put him over the edge and not let it be a complete waste of time. Posing in front of a mirror is nice once in a while, but he is feeling pumped and exceptionally horny after taking this dose for some reason. He knows exactly who he needs to call. He stops staring at himself and leaves the bathroom to go find his cell phone. His hard 9-inch cock is slapping his hairy six slabs of granite with each leap he makes through the room making them contract as they sling precum through each abdominal gap all the way up to the underside of his meaty pecs. He takes one of his fingers to lap up a bit of it and places it on his tongue. He sighs briefly before reaching down to get the phone from his end table and dials up a close Canadian friend that he knows. “Lenny…..what is wrong? For you to call me at this hour, it has to be important eh?” “You could say that Wilson, I am feeling the need for some company. If you know what I mean baby?” The Canadian grunts a few times and laughs. “Ohh, I know exactly what you are telling me. I will be there in a bit, don’t you dare spill any of that cum while I am not there. It is always better to share, right?” Val’s entire body is glistening with sweat as he hangs up the phone and puts it back on the end table beside his bed. His balls are swelling now making his ballsac stretch and hang further down in between his immense legs. He can feel his asshole pulsing in anticipation of being penetrated. He decides to walk over and stand beside his apartment door to wait for Wilson. He is rubbing his hands on his massively veiny 22-inch guns and flexes his giant horseshoe triceps to trace his fingers on them. He can’t remember the last time he has been entranced so much by his own body as he continues to preoccupy himself. He remembers that Wilson hasn’t seen him for a while and will be surprised to see how much bigger he has grown since their last outing together. After ten minutes of standing there entertaining himself and leaking a puddle of pre on the floor, there is a heavy knock on the door. An incredibly deep masculine voice rumbles a few words on the other side. “Your savior is here man. Let this beast in and we can get the show started, don’t you agree?” His voice alone sends sensations up and down Valentin’s well-muscled back as he cracks the door open just enough to take a look at the Canadian lumberjack, who has his enormous left arm sitting on the door frame and his right boot is tapping the ground. Wilson is even bigger than he remembers him. He is wearing a plaid top with just three buttons on the top of it, beneath the longest mane of hair Val has seen on a man. He can tell that the top button is undone and quite frankly it would have been launched airborne anyway if it had in fact been buttoned. His chest is so wide that the two other buttons are struggling to stay intact. His breathing is labored which isn’t unusual for him because he has a tendency to make “errs” and “rrraahhhs”, even when he isn’t talking. He again notices how well-groomed the Canadian’s mane is and how it stretches halfway down his bloated pecs and thick muscle gut. Wilson immediately notices that Valentin has cracked the door open and is laughing. He walks over to him and reaches in with his right arm, where his bloated right bicep is literally starting to break the chain on the door. He is petting the wet Bulgarian’s huge ass and sighs in his ridiculously deep Canadian accent. “EEERRRRMMMMM, I will break this door down Val to get to you. You are making me FUCKING HARD as a tree trunk right now. RRRRAAAAHHHH!” Wilson feels the right sleeve on his shirt rip all the way up to his traps and he loves every second of it. Other tenants are now opening their doors to see what is going on. The volume of the big hulk’s voice is attracting unwanted attention now. He turns to look at all of them with a mean look on his face. “Go back into your rooms. This has nothing to do with any of you. Me and the gentleman are together, you got it?” The latch on the door finally gives way as it flings open. Wilson’s beautiful green eyes enlarge seeing Valentin and his even more incredibly huge muscular body. He walks in and quickly closes the door before locking it behind him. He then reaches down with his bloated right hand and starts slowly ripping his shirt off. The Bulgarian knows how much his Canadian friend loves to savor his power and why clothing is no match for him. It only takes a few seconds before he manages to tear it completely off his insanely huge, hairy, hulking upper body. He motions for Valentin to come to him. “Come over here and let’s compare. I want to know what it feels like to have our chests pressed up against each other.” Val wastes no time as he walks over to him and tries to line up his pecs with his Canadian counterpart’s. Their erect nipples are pretty close in alignment barring a few pounds of course since Wilson’s chest is probably a few inches larger. The nips meet a few times sending ripples through both hulk’s bodies. The Canadian moans deeply feeling their pecs pressing up against each other feeling their heartbeats align as he marvels at how much his friend has grown since the last time he saw him. Their faces are nearly a foot apart and it is really starting to heat Wilson up. “FFFUUUCCCKKK! ERRMMM….” He looks down and notices how tight his pants are and wonders how much longer they can withstand the beast throbbing within them. His cock is being coaxed by his partner’s, which is touching the flap that leads to his zipper. He smirks a little and looks back up at Val. “I would tear these pants off right now, but I rather like them. It isn’t easy to find comfortable clothing to wear over top of these giant logs, you know?” He slowly undoes his well-worn pair of jeans to make his beastly monster flop out to smack the Bulgarian’s own meaty tool. He then pulls them down below his thick ass and hamstrings, while at the same time, kicking his boots off into different directions, before finally tossing them to the side. He moves back up into the same position again and is rubbing his 11-inch rod up against Val’s slightly smaller one. He lets out a grunt as a stream of pre shoots out of his slit and runs down both of their cocks. The sensation on Valentin’s cock is enough for him to spill a bit too as they begin mixing fluids together making both of them moan deeply. “I haven’t been this turned out in months Lenny. Let’s not waste another moment eh?” He immediately reaches down to pick up his partner around the waist with a giant bearhug and has to stabilize his back a bit to adjust to Val’s noticeable weight difference. The excited Bulgarian lets out a loud sigh which makes his Canadian counterpart respond with a deep growl. They are staring into each other’s eyes while Wilson moves his giant hands down to Val’s immense ass to cup both glutes. “RRRRAHHH! You are FUCKING beautiful Valentin, never more so than at this very moment.” For a few seconds, the huge musclebear feels a bit lightheaded from the extreme rush he is experiencing and realizes that the beast inside him is probably trying to surface so he closes his eyes to try and keep from showing his anxiety. “OHH SHIT…..I can’t let him out right now. I will end up destroying…..” Valentin stops him from continuing his train of thought long enough to slide himself over top of the Canadian behemoth’s bloated cock, teasing it along his hole for a few seconds, making the big hulk grunt deeply, before slowly pushing it inside his aching hole. He gasps feeling the raging power of the beast swelling inside him as he tries desperately to get the behemoth to stop worrying. He reaches up to yank on Wilson’s thick brown mane and stares directly into his big green eyes. “Focus on ravaging me, you big hunky bear, and he won’t come out. I can handle anything you do to me now, but you are right, the inner beast probably would hurt a lot of people if he decided to make an unexpected entrance.” After making several deep growls, Wilson quickly wraps Valentin’s legs around his mammoth torso and begins to deeply thrust inside him. Their eyes remain transfixed on each other as they move their way over to the bed. The Bulgarian turns his head around to look at it and smirks. “I don’t really want to buy another bed again beast, it will cost me…..” “SHUT UP Lenny, I will get you another one, okay?” Wilson quickly hops onto the bed as it crashes to the ground before getting down on his knees still holding his partner. He positions Val’s lower body to sit on his heaving chest while he continues to pound his lover into oblivion. The energy is intensifying now that they are finally in a place where they can concentrate on pleasuring each other, even though Valentin wants to be able to feel Wilson’s muscles. The lusty bottom looks up at him and wants to feel his partner’s face, but he can’t reach it in that position, so he motions for the Canadian to lean down to plant a kiss on his lips. “I would kiss you Lenny if I could, but I can’t reach your mouth. *laughs deeply* However, I can compensate by pumping you full of so much cum that you won’t be hungry for days. Does that sound like a good alternative, eh?” He decides to slow his rhythm down so he can keep pulling out to watch Val’s gaping hole pulse and his own power tool throb wildly. The synchronicity between them is almost trancelike as this continues for what seems like eons. He has finally found another man that can keep up with his endurance and he doesn’t want to waste it so he keeps promising that he will cum soon only to make his partner moan again when he plugs him for several more jabs. He finally feels the flood moving from inside his balls to his shaft after about thirty heart-pounding minutes of power fucking. Val own cock is a deep purple and it is making him lose his mind from the abuse his prostate has been enduring. Wilson yells out a few “rrraaahhhs” before shoving his thick rod as far in as he can possible go. The volume of his cum floods Valentin’s insides and makes the equally impressive bottom spray himself with his own violent load. They are both absolutely spent from this session as both of the behemoths lie in place breathing heavily as they remain locked together. The bald-headed Canadian starts to pull his cock out, but Val stops him. “No, leave it in there beast. It will keep the other you from trying to come out. You remember the last time we had a round like this don’t you?” Wilson’s thick mane and veiny head is lying on his own heaving pecs as he starts laughing and grunting at the same time. “HA HA HA! You have a point there stud. *has trouble catching his breath* I have to stand back up though Lenny. I’m sorry. I wish I could sit here for a while longer, but I am having so much difficulty with my breathing that I need to get up.” He quickly pulls out of his partner’s hole and tries to lift himself off the ground on his own accord, but fails. Now both of the hulks are trying to help each other up to their feet, flexing their arms to balance their weight so they can get up at the same time. After about a minute of struggling, they finally manage to get up and rub each other down a few times. Their eyes lock on each other once again. “Pick me up big lug so we can finally kiss. I have wanted to lock my lips on yours since I have seen you tonight. I know we don’t have much time if you are feeling “him” coming along.” Wilson grins and his eyes widen as he wraps his arms around Val’s thick and veiny waist and lifts him just above his pec shelf. They lean in to each other and match up with each other’s mouths, which is more difficult than you would imagine. The Bulgarian has to part a few strands of hair in the Canadian’s bushy beard before he can do so. The beastly man shoves his tongue down his partner’s throat as they finally kiss each other. It is a passionate and rewarding kiss as they both moan deeply into each other; while holding each other’s heads with one hand and their other hand on each other’s pumped necks. This lasts for about another two minutes before Val finally motions for Wilson to let go so he can climb down off of the hairy behemoth. “I have missed you beast. I had to show you what the serum has done for me over the past few months and I knew that you would approve once you got a look at my results.” Wilson is still sweating like a fiend despite the fact that the room has cooled even further from when he got there. Valentin has seen his partner do this more than once and knows what will happen if the Canadian doesn’t get out of there soon. “It is FUCKING awesome what it is doing for you baby, I want to see you BLOW UP into something that barely resembles a human. Don’t you want that, eh? I mean…..you might actually get there if you continue with these treatments. We really need you to get as MASSIVE as possible because we need you badly in the were community.” He can now feel “him” at the pit of his stomach as he reaches down to clutch his wet, hairy, distended eight-pack. Val quickly rushes over to open the doors to the balcony so he can get his partner outside. The air is even colder now as they both make their way to the edge of the bannister on the seventh floor. Wilson is gripping the rail with his huge hands as he leans his head over towards the ground. Val has positioned himself to be about three feet away from him to keep his distance in case there is a problem. He can hear his friend growling under his breath, and in a weird way, it is exciting him. The Canadian hulk is looking over at him and shakes his head a few times. “I sometimes wonder if the real reason why you are so interested in me is because of the other me. *shakes his head and does a few more “errs”* SSHHIITT….. *stomps his big feet a few times* It shouldn’t feel like I am about to have a full body orgasm, but it does…..” Val’s cock is bouncing up and down because it can sense the changes that are about to commence inside the Canadian behemoth’s body. He is aware how dangerous Wilson will be once the transformation is complete, but he also hopes that his massive lover can rein in the beast better than in previous instances. He has been attempting to merge with the monster from within his skin for quite some time, and hopefully this time it will happen without his friends getting hurt in the process. Wilson’s beard is gradually falling off his face now as his hands and feet start cracking and popping loudly. He is growling and groaning yanking on the balcony railing until it nearly comes off its hinges. Valentin is transfixed on what is happening to them as his partner’s fingers and toes are being broken off his body as four dark, hulking, paws quickly push forward to replace them. He is in agony, but still manages to get a few words out. “RRRRAAAAHHHH FFFUUUCCCKKK! Ahhh, I don’t even feel pain anymore Lenny. I don’t want to look at them…..I know it has to be a FUCKING mess, eh? I felt all of them break off and yet I didn’t…..” He stops moving to arch his huge back as vast amounts of dark brown fur start to accumulate just beneath his skin. He almost laughs as his already immense muscles in his back begin growing even larger as they start to double up on each other. He is trying to brace himself feeling the werebear taking over his entire body. He is still staring at his lover, frothing at the mouth now as it struggles to stay in its human form. His teeth are breaking off revealing his growing incisors and fangs as they tear his face apart. His flesh is being decimated as all of his muscles are barely visible beneath his new covering. The crunching and stretching of his gigantic muscles is making the balcony unstable as his human form finally surrenders to the more ferocious beast emerging. His new paws have grown to twice their original size now as the skin that is remaining on his body completely rips completely off, exposing the newly formed brown carpet that is now covering his entire gigantic growing frame. The huge cock that was dangling between his legs has been completely covered over by a thick sheath that now resides beneath the hulking bear gut he is growing. His thickly muscled paws are growing claws that probably measure nearly two feet long. The shape of his skull is the final area that is changing as it cracks and pops several times to make room for his newly formed ears and the thick muzzle that is growing outward to accommodate the giant teeth that now reside within his mouth. He has never stopped looking at Valentin throughout the entire process which has made the mesmerized Bulgarian both terrified and horny. The balcony’s bannister is breaking off under the weight of were Wilson’s giant bear legs as it falls down to the sidewalk underneath them. There is barely anything that is even remotely human about the Canadian now, as he tries to stand up on two of his four monstrously huge hulking tree trunks that have just finished transforming. Val is quite dazed after seeing his partner change from being a giant hairy hulk into a larger, furrier, and much more dangerous version of his self. He can still see Wilson’s beautiful green eyes from inside the beast’s head, which does give the Bulgarian some pause because he doesn’t remember that ever happening before. He moans feeling a giant load in his balls building up as the massive, 12-foot, 1,500 pound behemoth that is in front of him attempts to lunge for his body with its claws. He jumps out of the way though and lands back inside the apartment as the werebear loses its footing and goes over the edge of the balcony and falls onto the ground beneath them. Val spills his load all over the floor and loses consciousness as the sounds of cars being smashed to pieces and sirens going off in the distance are heard everywhere throughout the city. End of Part 5
  22. “Ehh…..it feels really weird, is that supposed to happen?” Thomas looks at the medical assistant as they pull the syringe out of the opening to the needle that is in his left arm. He looks like he is going to be sick as he starts sweating a bit. Arliss turns back around in his chair and tells Cliff that he better get back in there because he can tell that Thom is going to have a bad reaction to the serum. The mentor jumps from his seat and rushes back into the medical area to stay with his young client. Arliss starts talking to Steve again. “I sent Cliff back in there because sometimes the serums can make the guys sick. It almost always happens to the smaller ones. Thomas’s body is not able to handle the rapid muscle tearing so he will probably vomit a few times before he gets used to the whole process. Don’t worry he will be okay, he just needs a little bit of reassurance from Cliff.” Steve seems okay with the whole scenario as Arliss stands up and turns to look at the guys in the back. “Guys, I need all of you to leave the area and go watch this in the viewing room. I know some of you will be critical of him and I don’t want him to get overworked any more than he already has. His body is going to obviously take quite a beating so be courteous.” There are several groans as the men stand up and shuffle out and into the viewing area located just a few feet away. Arliss sits back down with Steve as they watch Cliff retrieves a bucket from one of the medical assistants to put it in front of Thomas’s face and torso. It is obvious now that the young man is going to lose whatever he ate earlier that morning. He looks at his mentor and is very scared. “I feel like I am going to die Cliff. Are you sure this is safe?” “You will be sick for a few minutes Thomas. This is normal. Your body has not experienced something this extreme before. You will get through this and after the first dosage kicks in, you will be feeling a lot different.” One of the medical assistants attaches the IV bag back to Thomas’s right arm again to make sure he is hydrated after he vomits. After a few minutes, he throws up twice and is feeling a bit weak. Cliff rubs his back and can tell that the young man’s body is getting ready to change. Leathery sounds are heard coming from Thom’s body as he tries to relax for a few seconds. Cliff runs his hands along his client’s sensitive muscle fibers down his back as they slowly swell beneath his skin. His breathing is a bit compromised but he is starting to feel a bit better. “You’re right Cliff. I am feeling better although I can’t seem to feel my arms and legs anymore.” The hunky personal coach notices that Thomas’s arms are twitching and are involuntarily flexing as well. He seems to be unaware of the loud popping that is radiating from his biceps and triceps as they lose the flat look that they used to have before the serum was introduced. The veins and muscles in his forearms are starting to bulge just ever so slightly as the growth moves down to his quads and calves as well. Cliff’s eyes immediate lock on to Thom’s crotch as he watches his client’s cock stretch down his left leg. The shy young man can certainly feel what is happening in that area because he is gripping the arm rests tightly. It is a surprisingly large bulge as it stops halfway down his fairly-developed calf, which has veins and a nice dusting a hair that he previously didn’t have before. It leaves a small wet spot at the end of his cockhead as Cliff takes one of his hands and places it just underneath it. Thomas’s face is looking a bit firmer as two well-pronounced dimples form in his cheeks. His glasses are now slightly stretched as his head expands a couple of inches. His flat chest has miraculously formed two very firm pectoral muscles that seems like they came out of nowhere to fill in a bit of the gap that was in the sides of his tank top. His abs do the same from the inside his body everyone can now see the indentations of an eight-pack in his midsection from underneath the top. Thomas is looking at Cliff and looks as if he is a bit drunk from the formula’s dosage. His mentor smiles back at him, while rubbing his back with one hand and caressing the cockhead in his pants with the other. “It appears to be working Thomas. You look like you have been working out quite a bit now. That was just the first dosage as well because this was supposed to jumpstart your muscles.” The medical assistant that injected the first dosage into him is now checking both of the needles to see if they need to be moved around or not because it appears as if his upper body is absorbing the solution more than his calves and quads are. His 15” biceps keep tensing which is creating a slight issue. Cliff is aware that Thomas is starting to enjoy what is happening to him because he keeps leaning his head over to the sides to rub his stubbly face on his bigger round shoulders. At the moment, Thomas has probably grown to around a very athletic 165-175 pound range and that is only after the first dose. After a couple of adjustments to the needles in his arms, the serum bag is removed and the medical assistant is ready to put the second serum in. Before they do though, the man from earlier gets on to speak through the intercom system. “Congratulations Mr. Mangold on getting through the hardest part of your transformation. Your body is now prepared for the more appropriate doses it will be exposed to. The body you have now is normally where our clients begin in their metamorphosis. We anticipate that you will probably gain a fair amount of muscle in the next cycle so you will probably be feeling a considerable amount of pressure coming from every square inch of your frame. Mr. Byutov, I will need you to set up the bigger chair that is found in our primary medical area and then have the young man get up from the one he is in. Mr. Mangold, your mentor will help you over to the big boy seat because you are going to need it. Our medical personnel will follow you over there so don’t worry about the needles leaving your arms.” The previously shy Canadian man is now bouncing his cock in his pants as it drips precum down his leg and onto the floor. “I am now craving it Cliff. I didn’t feel this way just a couple of minutes ago, but now it is all I think about.” “Try to keep your emotions in check Thomas. We have had some issues in the past with a few guys who ended up completely losing their minds over this. They eventually calmed down after the transformations were complete, but it was very scary at first. I will need to leave for a few minutes so try to behave yourself.” He points over Thomas’s right shoulder to show him where it is and leaves. As Cliff does, Arliss gets up from his seat and tells Steve to follow the other men into the back area so he can watch on the monitors. They don’t want there to be any major distractions since it appears that this is going to be a more complicated procedure. He walks into the medical area and watches as the medical personnel undo his grips and hold on to the tubes attached to his syringes as he is helped up by the huge supervisor. Arliss wraps his right arm around the young stud’s waist and lifts him up slowly to get him out of the chair. The formerly gawky nerd is now looking a bit better with the extra bulk. There are veins pulsing in his head against his stretched glasses. The older man is now trying to move him over to the chair fairly quickly to keep the entire process moving along. He helps him up into the chair where Cliff is setting the straps up to be wrapped around the horny muscle nerd’s arms and legs so he is tightly secured without any kind of movement. The medical personnel that are with him are now setting his IV syringes in place. The stronger serum is going to be administered strictly to his right arm this time. He will be fed an IV solution into his left arm because his body is going to need considerably more nutrients when the process is completed. Arliss is now standing in front of the fit man and is watching him closely. His cock is peeking out the bottom of his shorts now. Thomas sighs as he relaxes his body in the chair and leans back. The sweat is pouring profusely from all of his orifices now. He looks at Arliss and seems to be in a really good mood now. Cliff is wrapping the straps around Thomas’s arms and legs and making sure they are as tight as possible. The serum hasn’t even been administered to him yet and yet the veins in his body are already looking as if they are going to blow up. Now Cliff is standing with Arliss in front of the stressed muscle nerd. “Look at me Thomas. Stay relaxed and let the serum consume you. Your body is craving it so much that I am afraid you might stop breathing or your heart will stop.” Cliff looks at Arliss for assistance. “I think he will be fine actually. This is probably going to be an incredible success when it is all said and done. I wonder if we should remove his glasses or not? *smirks at Cliff* Hmm, maybe not. I may actually cum in my pants watching him destroy them.” Both men nod their heads at the medical doctors as they attach the serum to his right arm. It starts to flow into his body after a few seconds. He is gripping the chair tightly, feeling it reach his mind as his breathing gets noticeably heavier. His cock is spilling even more precum now. Thomas is moaning as the serum starts to expand his cock. The huge vein that is visible from beneath his shorts is swelling to the point that it is slowly starting to rip the fabric. Cliff and Arliss look on in amazement. Their cocks are bouncing wildly in their pants now. Thomas was already quite endowed to begin with, but the fact that it has expanded even further especially when it is powerful enough to tear through fabric is shocking the men that have already went through the same process. Cliff decides to speak to Thomas to see if he is coherent enough to talk. “Uhh…..How are you doing Thomas? *tries not to look at his huge 12” shaft* I think you are enjoying yourself immensely, am I right?” Thomas laughs as his voice goes down about two more octaves. He notices the difference immediately as his eyes dilate and he feels his balls destroying his underwear. They are now stretching the front of his shorts to its limits. He is close to shooting a load already since he has never felt such sheer ecstasy in his entire life. “Mmm god Cliff, I thought I would hate this, but I was stupid for ever thinking otherwise. Mmm yes……YES…..I can feel my muscles begging for it. AHHH…..can’t…..talk…..anymore…..I must feel EVERY…..SINGLE…..FIBER…..GROWING……” The young Canadian begins grunting as his legs and torso are now reacting to the serum. His shorts are struggling to stay intact as his quads and glutes begin to separate the seams. Arliss is staring at Thomas’s growing toes as the arches of his feet elongate and thicken. His calves are squeaking as they widen and part to form hardened upside-down hearts. The fur on his legs is also thickening to create a cover for his swelling lower half. Once his shorts surrender to the power that is emerging from within them, his cock and balls flop a few times. He shoots a few ropes of cum into the air and it hits Cliff in the face. The shocked man rubs his fingers on his face and slowly licks them. The taste is so good, that he feels it surge through his body. His cock reacts as it spills a load of its own down his legs. At the same time, Thomas can feel his arms reacting to the serum as he feels an incredible amount of pressure welling up from inside both forearms. He can’t take his eyes off of them as the muscles from within stretch and swell, expanding beneath the straps and fighting to break free. The young Canadian is smiling as his eyes scan past his arms midpoint and as he watches his biceps and triceps swelling and bulging bigger than he ever imagined possible on his formerly small frame. The glasses on his face are unable to take anymore as the rims snap off his face and fall into his lap. The veins swell and bulge even more than before as the hair on top of his head falls off. He is growing a thick beard on his chin and it feels amazing to him. He doesn’t know where to look next as he looks down to watch his pecs and abs transform beneath his white tee. The sensations coming from all over his body is making him produce more testosterone which naturally results in more cum being spilled as he launches a few more jets in front of him. Both Cliff and Arliss are beyond boned as they both try to catch his spunk on their faces, laughing in the process. Since it is full of extra charged hormones, they are feeling it hit their own crotches, prompting more spillage. They look at each other and decide to strip down to just their thongs, which is not distracting Thomas at all. Arliss is grunting feeling a huge load building up in his ballsac while Cliff caresses his thickly-muscled hairy body with his hands and is dripping onto the floor through his thong. End of Part 5
  23. muscleaddict

    Charlie's Secret

    This is a story I wrote years ago for my "Muscle Addicts Inc" blog. I've been going over it and making a few tweaks here and there and thought I'd share it here as I work on it. It's far from perfect but some of you guys might like it, or parts of it anyway! CHARLIE’S SECRET One My name is Charlie Steatham and I have a secret. It’s not a secret because it’s something I’m ashamed of. On the contrary, it’s something I love having. A part of me I wouldn’t ever want to change. It’s just not the kind of thing that would really be appropriate to tell a person in most given situations, or the kind of thing the majority of people would really understand even if I did. Let me tell you how I came to discover I even had this secret to keep. It was one Saturday afternoon back in England. I was home alone and innocently flicking through a magazine my parents bought weekly, which specialised in, of all things, radio and television listings. I wasn’t really reading it, just half heartedly turning the pages, stopping every now and then to linger on the odd thing which caught my attention, unbeknownst to me that I was about to stumble on to something which would have the strangest, and most incredible effect on me. An effect like nothing had ever had on me before. Something which would lead me to a world I never even knew existed. I remember feeling my eyes physically widening when I first saw the picture, and how it felt like my heart actually stopped beating for just a millisecond of time. Staring at it, I couldn’t quite get my head around what I was seeing, and why it seemed to have me so completely transfixed. Staring up at me from the page, was the most grotesquely muscular man I had ever seen. Every single one of his body parts was enormous. From the neck up he just looked like an ordinary man, he was handsome for sure, with nothing particularly special about his features, except for the fact his skin was a dark bronzed colour with an oily shine, but from the neck down, his whole body was a mass of gigantically huge, almost cartoon-like balloons of hard, smooth, muscle, bulging so much they looked as if they were about to burst. Every muscle was deeply separated, and most had a number of thick, wiry veins running across them. I had seen muscular guys before. Movie stars and athletes with six packs and tight, hard toned bodies, but the man in this image was something else entirely. He didn’t even look like a human being. He looked like a new superior species of the human race. A sick experiment gone wrong. Some kind of otherworldly creature, computer generated for a superhero film. As this monstrously massive muscle freak of nature, completely naked except for a small, shiny, green pouch covering his genitals, his hands resting on the top of his enormously thick legs, biting down on his lower lip and his face contorted into an almost arrogant but hugely proud expression, like he was having a whale of a time simply just possessing that freakishly huge, anatomy chart like body, stared up at me from the pages of this incredibly ordinary magazine in the living room of my parents incredibly ordinary house, I was completely and utterly hypnotised. My heart was pounding, my mind was racing, and for some reason, my penis was rock hard, twitching and pushing against the material of my boxers and jeans which were now struggling to contain it. This thing which had unexpectedly intruded on me from another world seemed to have this incredible hold and power over me, and I had now idea why. It didn’t feel wrong, but I knew that whatever this effect it was having on me was, it definitely wasn’t of the ordinary. After staring at the image for what seemed like hours, I forced myself out of my muscle obsessed trance, and tried to focus my mind on something else, but I couldn’t. My mind had been invaded, and my thoughts completely taken over by the image of that freakishly huge mountain of enormous muscle. I needed to see it again. I took the magazine into my bedroom and lay on my side on the bed, my upper body perched up by my elbow, the magazine next to me, flat on the bed. I flicked through the pages to try and find the image, and when I did, it was like I was seeing it for the first time all over again. I had no idea what was happening to me, all I knew was that in front of me was something so amazing and special. I had never desired anything more than this specimen of extreme muscle mass. This huge, hulking mountain of thick, superhuman muscle with his air of incredible power, extreme arrogance and hyper masculinity was the most beautiful and sexually provocative thing I had ever laid eyes on. I reached for my throbbing hard on, bulging and straining through my jeans, gently squeezed and started tugging. Soon enough I was popping open the buttons of my jeans and my white cotton boxer encased hard on was sticking out. I tugged and wanked, all the time staring at the muscle freak before me. Staring at the huge mounds of croquet ball shaped muscles which popped from his arms and fought for space with his perfectly smooth and insatiably thick chest, which looked like it was made of marble, but had tiny, wiry veins spread across the upper half. Staring at how his deeply carved shoulders ballooned like two watermelons trapped under bronzed tinted skin, which tightly stretched across the enormous, smooth muscle and looked unhealthily thin. Staring at his six beautifully shaped stomach muscles which looked like they had been carved with a knife. Staring at the incredible mass of lines and ripples etched into his tremendously large, hard looking leg muscles, and while staring at this presumably once ordinary sized man who’d built and moulded his entire body to extreme proportions and made himself look like a member of an entirely new, superior species, who looked up at me from my bed with an expression of complete and utter self satisfaction, and his air of incredible power and arrogance, my entire body seemingly shook, the most pleasurable sensation I’d ever had consumed my entire body, I let out a loud groan of ecstasy and my boxers filled up with a wet creamy liquid. Staring at a picture of, who I later found out was one of the top professional American bodybuilders of the time, hitting a most muscular pose on stage at a bodybuilding competition in probably the best condition of his career, I’d masturbated and made myself cum for the first time in my life. From that moment on, I’ve been completely obsessed with huge, freaky muscle. Nothing turns me on more than the image of competition ready, monstrously muscular, indecently shredded bodybuilders who live and breathe for being huge, who love nothing more than to climb into small, brightly coloured posing trunks, made of the shiniest material imaginable, and to stand in front of a camera, or an audience, and flex, tense and squeeze their cartoonishly big, deliciously carved, deeply separated balloons of thick, hardcore muscle mass, looking both impossibly beautiful and inhumanly grotesque in equal measures, loving every single moment of showing off their phenomenally built, superhero-worthy, circus sideshow freak-like bodies. As one can imagine, it’s a fantasy that stubbornly stays at that; a fantasy. How many ripped and peeled competitive bodybuilders sporting biceps bigger than the size of the average man’s head do you see walking round your local supermarket? None. And how many jacked and shredded muscle freaks one week away from competing at their fourth bodybuilding show of the year do you see on a Friday night at the local pub? Absolutely zero. Of course, there have been some very rare, and exceptionally brilliant moments where I’ve encountered fairly big guys sporting some pretty decently sized muscle, one or two of whom could have easily stepped onto a bodybuilding stage at some point, at various places, and of course, those moments will probably be forever etched into my memory, but for the most part, genuinely huge muscle guys, and certainly bodybuilders like the one in the magazine I found all those years ago, and the ones I have spent countless hours watching and viewing ever since, still remain an extremely elusive and rare breed. The world of extreme bodybuilding is an exceptionally small one, to which I have no ties or belonging to. Except for finding the courage to attend a bodybuilding show which I’ve yet to do, it’s a world I didn’t think there was much chance I would ever step into. That was, until today. Or to be more precise, two Tuesday’s ago, when Professor Walsh (officially my favourite lecturer from the university in California I’m temporarily studying at for a term) presented myself and my fellow students from my Video and Audio Production Techniques class with a list of the options for the first, one day work experience placement of the semester. This is a day where every student on the course has the opportunity to participate in the filming of various types of film, television and video productions. Every student has to select three options, and the Professor tries her best to assign the student to one of their choices. This is not always possible though because, as you can imagine, some of the options are more popular than others and there are only so many students allowed on each placement. Some of the students, usually the louder, more extroverted ones, were intent on getting the big gigs like production on the set of a film, and popular television talk shows. Personally, I was happy with anything that would give me some experience. Copies of the list were passed around to raised voices and excited chatter. I scanned the list to see, sure enough, a well known television talk show, work on an independent film, the set of a fairly well known cop show from cable who were filming in the area, work for a local news television station, and some more fairly obscure productions. Although nothing was particularly standing out as something I had a real desire to do, it all sounded pretty exciting. And then, as my eyes steered down to the bottom of the page, they suddenly widened, my heart leaped into my throat, and I almost couldn’t believe what I saw written on the last line, as the very last option; Filming Backstage at a Local Bodybuilding Competition. My head was spinning. Was this really happening? Was the universe finally providing me with an entry into this world I never thought I would enter? I kept checking the list, looking at the words again, just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating, and sure enough, there it was. My opportunity to be at, and take part in the filming of an actual bodybuilding competition. I suddenly pictured myself backstage at a bodybuilding competition, in a space packed full of massive, bronzed painted muscle men wearing nothing but tiny sized, thinly strapped posing trunks, each pair shinier and brighter than the next. Every single superhuman muscle brute of a man intensely pumping up his shockingly huge muscles, grunting and huffing with every lift as their huge slabs of man meat strain and bulge through their completely hairless, drum tight skin, and me, standing next to a cameraman, closely filming every single pump of a massive, competition conditioned All American muscle freak, mere inches away from his blown up balloons of bulging, rippling muscle. The fact that I was looking at the opportunity to be in the presence of the kind of muscle bulls I’d been wanking off over for years and to see their enormous, freaky muscle up close in person was mind blowing. However, it terrified me just as much as it excited me. The two days which followed were spent agonising over what to do with this opportunity I’d been unexpectedly faced with. My mind was completely split in half. It felt like two voices had invaded my head, one voice saying, “You have to do this. This is a rare, once in a lifetime opportunity and you will never get this again. It will absolutely amazing, it will blow your mind and you’ll get to see real life, genuine muscle freaks pumping, flexing and posing close up. Deep down you know you want to do this, and if you don’t, you will always regret it.” Meanwhile, the other voice was shouting, “Don’t be stupid, you can’t do this. You will make a fool of yourself. You will feel uncomfortable and nervous. People will look at you and think you are strange. And how will you explain your reason for wanting to do this to your classmates, and Professor Walsh?” One minute, a certain voice would sound clearer than the other, and I would make what I thought was my final decision. But then, out of nowhere, the other voice would suddenly shout up again, and I’d start to doubt my decision again. Even on the day of handing in our choices, sitting in Professor Walsh’s class, with five minutes to spare before the lesson came to a close, I still hadn’t made my final decision. I also knew that if I selected the bodybuilding competition, there was a very good chance I would get the placement. I couldn’t say for definite, but I knew it was fairly unlikely that any of my other classmates would select it as an option. There were a couple of guys in my class with a little bit of muscle on them who clearly went to the gym, but I would have been highly surprised if any of them had a genuine interest in bodybuilding. It was, without a doubt, one of those obscure placements to make up the numbers which nobody wanted to end up on. Well, almost nobody. Professor Walsh was wrapping up the lesson. “OK, class, you might have noticed this red box at the front of my desk.” This was it. My time was up. “By now I presume you’ve all made your three choices for next weekend’s work experience placement,” Professor Walsh continued. “If you’d like to place your completed sheets into the box as you leave. Please keep in mind, you are not guaranteed a place on any of your choices. We will do our best to assign you to one of your choices, but due to limited spaces on each placement, in some cases this will not be possible.” My classmates had started to shift and while everyone was getting out their sheets and gathering their bags in order to leave, I was staring at my sheet with my pen anxiously hovering over it. Two of my choices had been ticked, which just left one. The words “Bodybuilding Competition” leered up at me, testing my every nerve and ounce of bravery. My pen was wavering from the tick box next to it, to the box next to the option of “Production on a Music Video.” The voices in my head both clearer and more frantic than ever, one in battle with the other. Bodybuilding Competition Charlie, you HAVE to do this! Music Video Don’t be stupid. You will make a fool of yourself. Bodybuilding Competition Just imagine it! Real life, genuine muscle freaks pumping, flexing and posing close up! Music Video You will feel uncomfortable and nervous. People will look at you, and think you are strange! Bodybuilding Competition Deep down you know you want to do this, and if you don’t, you know you will ALWAYS regret it! And with one quick motion, I ticked the box next to my third and final option, and my fate was sealed. My heart was pounding as I approached the box on Professor Walsh’s desk, and my hands were shaking slightly as I dropped the sheet in. The second after, I glanced up to see Professor Walsh looking at me behind her desk. A friendly smile was trying to mask an expression of curiosity and slight confusion. She had clearly noticed my anxiety and I felt a sharp, brief pinch that I might have been rumbled. The incident quickly faded from memory, and as I left the classroom and walked along the corridor, the strongest emotion of elation, sheer pride and an overwhelming feeling that I had just done something amazing came over me. I had just taken one step closer to that crazy, amazing world of huge, freaky muscle I never thought I would ever be able to enter.
  24. You can find the first three parts here: Part 4: After several minutes, Brice gets up from the table and walks into the nearby hallway. He is still a bit woozy from the ordeal he just experienced, but for the first time in years, he feels as if he is going to be alright on the inside. He is still nude and is unconsciously rubbing the thick grayish skin on his chest and legs feeling the new textures of his fresh hardened skin. It makes his cock jump a few times as it dribbles a few drops of precum onto the floor beneath him. He is looking around at his surroundings and is noticing things he hasn’t seen for the first time since he has been there. There are several rooms on both sides of the corridor he is standing in. Each one of them has a red shield with square boxes around them, flames are superimposed on top of the shields, and they are in numerical order. The east hall is where he was before in the cages and the west hall, which looks as if it is nearly a mile away down the aisle, is where a door is open. It appears to be where the doctor’s exam rooms and offices are located. Brice quickly realizes that he is in an unmarked area of the property and which makes him shake his head a few times. This is obviously a much bigger operation than he previously anticipated. Dr. Cain Darkori opens a door approximately ten feet away from him and walks through it. He is glistening with sweat and appears to be a bit winded. He spots Brice and walks down the hall to see him. He smiles and puts his thick and powerful hands on the gray-skinned man’s shoulders and squeezes them. Brice lightly winces but feels a sense of warmth run through him. “Are you feeling a bit better now Brice? I managed to get Owen down for a long nap I think. You won’t have to worry about Damien for a while either. He went and got his frustrations out on another one of our patients.” Brice looks into the huge hulking red doctor’s eyes and is quite smitten with him. Cain immediately notices this and wraps his huge hairy veiny arms around the gray man’s waist to lift him up into his embrace. Brice’s swollen gray cock is finding its way inside the doctor’s lab coat and it is resting on his furry black chest, rubbing its sticky goo on him. Cain smiles, showing off his perfectly formed white teeth and fangs. They are noticeably longer now than he remembers and it feels like he is heating up as his breathing starts to get a bit heavier. It is a side that Brice has not really seen of him before other than what he saw happening in the exam room. He is moving his hands up and down Brice’s back to comfort him. “Mmm, I have to say that you do turn me on a bit Brice. You are more my type now that you have transitioned to this look. Our bigger halves are getting a bit more acquainted judging by how we are responding to each other.” He also realizes that maybe it is a bit too soon to be fraternizing with someone that just recently returned back to their human form. He carries Brice down the hall and into an extremely large shower area where the two stop for a moment or two. The huge hairy red-skinned doctor turns on the cold water in front of one of the showerheads in hopes of cooling them both off. The cascading of the water as it hits Cain does little to keep Brice’s eyes from wandering up and down the huge man’s thick frame as it completely soaks his lab coat and pants. The immense muscles in his hairy chest are now entirely visible underneath the fabric. He continues to breathe heavily as his gray partner leans in to smell the incredible stench being emitted from the horny doctor’s pulsing neck and scruffy face. “Doctor, I can’t seem to control myself despite your efforts to cool me off. I am being compelled to pleasure you from whatever is residing inside my body.” Brice’s cock and balls are now swelling as they rub against the doctor’s thick abs as his growing rod reaches the underside of his meaty pecs. It is squirting precum, coating the area between both of the doctor’s huge chest mountains. His gray partner starts licking his swollen neck which is bringing him to the point of no return. He can feel his own power tool expanding to the point that it is ready to explode out of his pants. “UHHH BRICE…..*feels numerous waves of adrenaline flowing through him*. MMMMM FUCK…..*a few popping sounds come from his neck*. I haven’t been this hot for someone in…..” He is huffing now feeling his pants creaking now that they are literally painted to his body. The giant bulge that has been torturing his zipper for several minutes finally bursts its way out as the doctor’s massive, veiny cock continues to grow. He is about to let himself go as he feels Brice groaning, feeling his partner’s entire body stretching, swelling, growing against him and in his hands. His own hands do the same as his nails elongate and become sharper. It appears that they are both doing so in sync with each other. The cold water that was supposed to diffuse the situation has failed to prevent the transformation process from commencing. Cain can feel the seams on his pants being pulled apart by the colossal mass that is emerging from them both from behind and along both sides of his lower half. He shoves his thick demonic fingers in between the two growing bloated gray globes to prepare them for what they will have to endure shortly. Brice’s swelling tits are pressing up against his lover as he moans deeply feeling his hole being massaged. He is humping Cain’s swelling fingers as they slowly stretch his anus. The doctor’s eyes have turned to a shade of black now and his upper body and arms are entirely glued to his lab coat. He can feel his partner’s bloated foot-long rod and grapefruit-sized balls being compressed along his own swelling pec shelf as he roars feeling his massive back muscles tear through the puny lab coat fabric. A thick covering of black fur has formed along the ridges of his cavernous delts and traps. Brice’s own eyes have turned a milky gray and his tongue has changed shape. He is finding his way to Cain’s mouth as he slides it inside making a lustful journey down to his partner’s throat. They continue to expand up against each other as Brice reaches his thick 22” pythons around to sluff the remaining fabric off of his partner’s swollen back. The horny red-skinned muscle demon slides his thick sausage fingers out of his gray-skinned partner’s wet hole to let his bloated precum spurting 13x8 rod take over as it quickly arches towards Brice’s gaping cavern. They seem destined for each other as they both meet with each other head on. The hungry bottom moans deeply feeling the massive tool pushing itself all the way inside. The two demons have found their way over to the shower wall where a few of the tiles have broken due to the force they caused by slamming up against them. After a couple of minutes of intense kissing and tonsil hockey with each other’s thick tongues, Cain starts pounding Brice relentlessly growling and roaring in delight. It is definitely getting the attention of others that are in the same part of the complex. Damien can sense the excitement coming from both of them as he stands in the doorway that leads into the shower area. He is surprisingly calm, probably due to the fact that he himself just had a session with a fuck buddy and it has drained him and his other half, at least for the time being. He is quite amazed though at how primal Cain is getting with Brice. The gray-skinned demon bottom has somehow sprouted a tail while he is being ravaged. It is finding its way underneath his partner’s huge heaving balls and is caressing both of them slowly sending shockwaves through Cain’s entire body. The massive muscle demon can feel them ballooning even bigger because of the milking as Brice’s thick hose-sized tail travels up along his horny top’s giant ass smacking both cheeks, prompting an even louder roar each time he does it. It is obvious that Cain has never been played with in this way because he is digging his claws into Brice’s bulging back and lats, but he is not trying to hurt him. The intense pressure in his huge grapefruit-sized balls is driving him insane as his partner’s gray tail slowly slithers its way up to his ass lips to part them and before sliding inside to start raping his anal walls. Cain nearly loses all of his bearings on his demonic self, barely holding on to his humanity as he feels himself being pleasured by Brice’s thick appendage. It is the most satisfying feeling he has ever experienced from another being. He is tilting his head back with his mouth open exposing his fangs as he to be fucked slowly and methodically. This is making him want to cum more than ever as he tries to pump Brice at the same rate. Damien is getting noticeably turned on by this, but he is trying to keep his composure despite what he is seeing in front of him. He feels compelled to join them, but knows that Cain would probably not like that since he obviously is developing a strong bond with Brice. Earlier while the gray beast was resting, the larger brother lectured him about interrupting the regression process in which he was interfering with. It led to what Brice ended up looking like now, which at first was considered a negative. Now though, it appears that Cain has completely changed his mind about it and is becoming totally infatuated with him. Feeling his own body warming up again, Damien decides it is time for him to go visit Owen down the hall before he transforms into his bigger self once again. As a response to being pleasured by Brice, Cain’s impressive red-skinned garden-hosed sized tail has emerged from his back and is trying to reach his lover’s milky gray rocket and ballsac to return the favor. Realizing it isn’t going to be long enough, he musters enough strength to stretch his tail another few feet as loud leathery sounds can be heard coming from within the muscular demon’s lower half. It reaches its destination and wraps itself around Brice’s swollen balls and squeezes them tightly to make him spray a few ropes of sticky precum all over Cain’s massive upper body. Both of the horny beasts have been edging each other for quite some time and are in need of release. As a way of determining who will do so first, they begin to tussle with each other to see which demon is going to win the challenge. Deep down, Brice knows he isn’t going to win against the larger demon daddy, but still wants to show that he also has a great deal of power so he attempts to get free from his grasp. Still stuffed inside his partner; however, Cain slams him down to the shower floor causing several tiles to break beneath them as he tries to show how dominant he is. They both roar with delight as the slightly smaller gray-skinned hulk submits to him after a couple of minutes of writhing and grinding against each other’s monstrous chests and gigantic legs. Feeling the white flood leaving his huge balls, Cain lifts his partner’s lower half up into the air to push his beastly rod up against Brice’s swollen prostate. He arches his massive demonic back as he unloads inside Brice’s starving insides. The rush of the powerful river involuntarily makes the bottom flex his entire frame as he feels every muscle fiber in his body start to expand once again. He grows rapidly as Cain looks on in amazement. He can still feel Brice’s massive expanding tail throbbing inside his asshole as it stretches him even further. At the same time, this is causing the red-skinned demonic beast to make more cum inside his ballsac as he feels more flow out of his raging shaft and into the excited gray behemoth. After cumming inside the gray giant once again, he manages to pull out of the demonic hulk’s swollen cunt hole and let’s go of Brice’s 16” power tool, which was still being squeezed by his huge tail. He is breathing heavily as he lies down on the shower floor. The showerhead they are lying under is still on and it is starting to flood the entire area they are in. Brice has now grown to over 400 pounds and his skin has been stretched to its limits as marks are appearing all over his massive body. He is crawling over to his exhausted top and is towering over him. His cock has started to mate with Cain’s again as they rub together and mix their fluids. They stare into each other’s eyes as the huge red-skinned demon’s tail explores the massive muscle beast’s entire frame once again feeling how much bigger he is compared to where he was just a few minutes prior. It is obvious what the man creature wants from Cain as he reaches down to place the red hulk’s bloated veiny tail on top of his gargantuan leaky cock. Once again, the red demon wraps his appendage around his partner’s ballsac and squeezes them tightly. A few thick jets of precum go flying into the air and coat the doctor’s vascular legs and torso before the slit is plugged by the end of Brice’s tail. The sensation of feeling something entering his cock makes the beast moan deeply. Cain grins as he pushes his tail further down inside the cock making Brice’s shaft swell even larger to contain the invader within. The gray monster reaches down and digs his claws into his partner’s enormous cannons as he anticipates the wild ride he is about to experience. The huge doctor continues raping his dick until he can see that Brice is about to lose control, judging by the wild look on his face. He can feel his partner’s balls contracting as he slowly slides his tail upward and out. When he finally does manage to get the entire appendage free, he is drowned by the largest white volcano he has ever felt in his entire life. The intensity of the orgasm is so incredible that the gray demon loses consciousness and falls over to the side. With each ribbon of cum being released from his bloated body, Brice slowly reverts back to where this whole sequence started in the first place. He has completely covered his red-skinned partner with his seed almost to the point that Cain’s own skin color is nearly invisible. The thick demonic hulk is laughing in his extremely deep demonic tone as he reaches up to his face with his claws to wipe the flood out of his black eyes. He is beginning to calm down now as he starts to shrink back down to his human form. He is tired but he is still manages to sit up long enough to move over to tend to his gray partner. He can sense that Brice is not breathing well and starts to do a few chest compressions on him. He then gets a few breaths in to his lungs before his weakened partner starts coughing and spits a bit of cum into his face. They are both back to their normal sizes once again. Cain smacks his face a few times to get him to open his eyes so he can look at him. It works as they stare at each other for a few seconds before the doctor says something to him. “Well, that was quite an experience, wasn’t it Brice?” They both laugh a couple of times which is followed by Brice coughing to his side as he tries to get a few words out. Cain covers his mouth though to tell him not to speak. “You don’t have to say anything hunky boy. You are far too weak to do anything so we can talk more when you are rested up, okay?” He leans down to kiss him and plunges his tongue down Brice’s throat and embraces him with his huge thick arms. His gray-skinned partner does the same as they lie there together in the milky-colored water. During the last few minutes of their exchange, they were both unaware that they were being watched by Damien and Owen, who were standing in the doorway, completely nude, and smiling while leaning against each other. They both walk into the flooded area to start cleaning up the mess that the two lovers just caused. Owen is told to shut the showerhead off and to clear out the drains of the milky cum that has accumulated so they can get the room fixed for later patients. Damien gets his brother up off the ground and takes him in to one of the exam rooms to lay him down on the table. He immediately dozes off once his brother walks back down the hall to do the same with Brice. Once he gets the gray man into another room, he wanders back into the shower area and starts helping Owen clean up the rest of the damaged facility. He stops the spectacled man long enough to say something funny to him. “Why can’t you do that with me Owen? I’m sure we can generate the same kind of intensity those two have created, don’t you think?” After a few eye rolls from his assistant, they go back to what they are doing.
  25. idealmuscle

    growth Genie Jafar

    Some of you may have come across this story within the ideas part of the forum. Giganticbeast gave the okay for people to expand this story. I love the character. Jafars lust for power was never truly captured in the film. Let's carry on Gigantic beasts work by carryong on the growth. Why not introduce other gods? Or savor in the growth a little longer. The Genie has more Power than you'll EVER HAVE! He gave you your power and he can take it away!" Aladdin said with a sneer, the young man playing this last hail marry struggling to outthink this powerful sorcerer. The genie and half drowned Jasmine stared in terror at this suggestion! Why would he suggest this powermad monster could gain MORE power!? "You're right...the genie's power DOES exceed that of my own.." the sorceror thought aloud, his serpent form snaking around the struggling street rat. His eyes lit up "That's it! Genie I have my FINAL wish!" He said, abandoning the giant snake form, returning to his former slender self, freezing Aladdin in place with a single wave of his hand. Aladdin sighed, watching the hourglass fill with sand, the poor princess Jasmine struggling for a breath, as Aladdin prayed this mad man would make his last wish already! The Genie tried to talk him out of it "hold on sir, mister megalomaniacal psychopath if you could just stop with the wishes that'd be greaaaaat" the blue genie adjusting his tie and fixing his glasses while standing beside a suddenly conjured cubicle wall. Another wave of the magicians hand obliterated the office space, and the sorcer wished "NOW Genie I wish to become an ALL POWERFUL-" taking a breath while Aladdin smirked, his cocky grin sickening the lithe old man, clearly the street rat THOUGHT he had a plan, what a fool! "ALL POWERFUL GOD" The man bellowed at the top of his lungs! Aladdin cockily dropping from the old man's spell as a blast of magic hit Jafar square in the chest! "Aren't you forgetting something Jafar? A genie has oh...wait...god!?" The Genie struggled to complete this wish, his energy draining as he continued to blast the old man, magic wracking through Jafar's lean body as he started to moan and groan from the increase in energies! "OH YES! you FOOL you think I would want to be a GENIE!? Why be a GENIE when one can be a GOD!" He doubled, losing focus enough to let Aladdin free. The youth freed Jasmine and dashed towards Jafar, scooping up a scimitar as he leaped through the air! Closing the distance and swinging the scimitar downward the blade was halted as if it stuck a block of steel! Aladdin opened his eyes nervously and stared at the thick muscled hand that now gripped the base of that blade showing no sign of harm! "OHHH YES....I can FEEL IT! Ohh the POWER! the fucking absolute POWER" he grunted as his twig of a forearm BULGED with rippling power, both Jafar and Aladdin watched the wave of growth rush over him! Travelling up his arm as his sleeve burst off! Individual rippling fibers of muscle swelling and BULGING with power as veins snaked up and down the dark toned skin! The old man standing and rising up and UP growing taller as his robes started to fray and stretch across his thickening form! Aladdin took a swing and another and ANOTHER, but the blade just bounced off the growing gods torso, cutting the stretched robe off, showing his skin changing to a deep red hue! "GO AHEAD and SWING street rat! OHHH Swing while you can! You FOOL! You fucking OHHHH GOD! WITLESS WASTE OF LIFE!" His shoulders bulging and swelling as he doubled in height lurching taller, his growth out of control and forcing his body to jerk and flex without any sign of stopping! His arms stretching down past his knees as he watched his body swell and grow like never before! thickening as his chest and lats continued to heave with every deep intensely pleasurable gasp of breath! The youth ran to the princesses side, watching as the man grew into the world's newest god! "OH THE UNIVERSE ITSELF WILL BOW BEFORE ME! MY IMMENSE MUSCLES CAN REND THE VERY FABRIC OF REALITY!" he grunted as a single flex of his pecs caused the princesses' clothes to literally vanish! He turned and threw his arms up into a double Bi pose, as his monstrous peaks bulged, Aladdin let out a shriek of pain shrinking in size and shape until he was nothing more than a baby! The towering, still growing god's grunts were only getting louder and more powerful by the second as the genie completed the ultimate wish! His blue form literally fading out of existence as his powers were completely drained! "WELL PRINCESS LOOKS LIKE YOUR REAL MAN IS NOTHING MORE THAN A MERE CHILD! AS I WARNED YOU!" He laughed his voice dropping so deep as his shredded rags of robes finally exploded off the towering muscle man's 15ft frame! The orgasmic feeling of this growth was so intense even HE was caught off guard! Jasmine let out a gasp watching his thick legs slowly dissipate, the muscled tree trunks becoming more ethereal as the transformation was progressing just out of control! The hulking behemoths shoulders bulged once again larger, swelling up against his ears as his jaw grew more square and pecs heaved upwards pressing against the base of his chin, almost swallowing his head! A loud CRASH echoed as the red skinned GOD grew right up against the brass domed ceiling! "YOU CANNOT STOP A GOD YOU FOOLS! THIS WORLD IS MINE! ALL POWERFUL! UNSTOPPABLY HUGE! I CAN'T FUCKING STOP GROWING!" He grunted, his body from the waist down merely a swirling maelstrom of gas and cloud until the lusty ever growing beast reached downward and simply started stroking the air itself. The red clouds of aether started to swirl and grow, stretching from his waist into the form of a monstrous cock! Thickening and growing between his hands, soon bigger than his own arm and growing more massive by the second! "YES PRINCESS I BET YOU WISHED YOU MARRIED ME NOW DIDN'T YOU?!" he asked as he pushed up through the roof of the palace, his cock growing to his pecs! "YOU ARE RIGHT THOUGH I'M NOT A REAL MAN, I"M A GOD! A GROWING ALL POWERFUL GOD!" he moaned as merely GAZING upon him sent the princess into a furious orgasm crumpled up as the all powerful Jafar continued to grow! Rising up from the ruins of the palace he continued to swell and GROW into the cool night sky! his moans echoing so loudly as he watched the once great city shrink below him! "TO THINK I MERELY WANTED TO RULE THIS CITY! I NOW RULE ALL OF EXISTENCE! A TRUE GOD! AN ALL POWERFUL MUSCLEBOUND GOD!" he laughed his deep voice booming so loudly the earth quaked and the sandy ground cracked open and swallowed up entire houses in the city! People staring upwards as the night sky was FILLED with this hulking flexing monstrosity! He smiled a wicked grin as his cock bulged against his monstrous pecs "GO AHEAD YOU PITIFUL MORTALS WORSHIP ME, CUM ALL OF YOU! NOW" he barked and with a single thought drove every human on earth into a simultaneous orgasm. It's only fair given the dark terrible things he planned on doing to them all...