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  1. One Jason heard the rumbling sounds coming from his brother's room. "Can't he just do anything quiet", he said to himself and returned to the book he was reading. He had been granted a full academic scholarship to the prestigious university a few blocks away from his house. He was all too happy he would get a top degree and could do it from the comfort of his own room. Brett, Jason's brother, was throwing his clothes atop his bed and putting them into the two large bags on the floor. He was eager to leave for Orchid University and was going to enjoy living on campus. His athletic skills had earned him a football scholarship and he just knew that professional football was his future. Jason was washing his hands when his brother entered the bathroom. He rolled his eyes as he saw that his brother was walking around shirtless once again. Despite the fact they were twins, their brown hair and dark eyes was their only resemblance. At 5'8 and weighing 155 pounds, Jason was a typical nerd: a smart guy, always buried in books, shy and somewhat clumsy. His triangular face and the absence of any beard whatsoever made him look more like a 15 year old. Brett on the other hand was a tad taller (5'9) but weighed an impressive 212 pounds of mostly muscle. He was a pure jock: when not out on the football field, he was pumping iron in the gym, didn't miss an opportunity to ditch his shirt to show off his muscular torso. His strong jaw line and five o'clock beard made him appear a few years older than 18. "Ya done here, little bro?", Brett asked in his deep baritone. "I was born first. That makes me the big brother technically", Jason replied in his higher voice. "You? The big brother? Think again", Brett said and flexed his right arm, "18 inches of power". "Muscle won't take you everywhere in life", Jason shot back. "I'll take brawn over brain every day, bro. How many chicks did your big brain get you so far?", Brett asked and caressed his six-pack, "My muscles got me every girl I wanted. Now be a good little boy and let me shower in peace". Jason shook his head and hurried away from the bathroom as his brother didn't even wait for his reaction to pull down his own pants. He heard the water turn on as he headed back to his room. "One day he's going to get what he deserves", he mumbled to himself. He entered his room and found a parcel on his desk. He opened the little box and discovered an old looking book. A small note fell from the book as he lifted it from the box. He retrieved it and read off the message: A small gift for someone greatly interested in books. Congratulations on year scholarship and good luck in university. Grandpa Jason opened the book and noticed it was some kind of ancient spell book. He knew his grandpa had a great collection of rare books. He had spent hours and hours with him in his library, fascinated by the tales his grandpa had told. Unfortunately, his grandparents lived on the other side of the country and visits had become very rare. He dove onto his bed and began reading the curious book. The next morning Brett took one of his signature long showers. Everyone in the house knowing what he was doing from the loud moans escaping the bathroom. He appeared bright and shining at the breakfast table, a skintight shirt hugging his torso. "Gotta feed this body", he mumbled with a full mouth as he took a fourth serving of pancakes. "Makes us proud, son", his father said, "Maintain the athletic heritage from our family". "Don't worry", Brett replied and gulped down a protein shake, "I will take the field by storm". He gulped down another shake, patted his six-pack and burped. "Fine. Let's get you off to Orchid university then", his father said and get up. "Jason, honey", his mother yelled, "we're off to take your brother to his campus. We'll be back tomorrow. There's plenty of food in the fridge." "Always with his head in the books", his father said while he shook his head and followed his wife and son to the car. Jason watched from the window in his room and saw his parents and his brother drive away. He went to the bathroom and headed into the long walk-in shower. He grinned as he noticed the traces of his brother's morning ritual on the tilled wall: several sticky stains of cum glistened on the dark tiles as they were slowly sliding down. "Luckily Brett always shoots his loads as high as possible up the wall", he said to himself. He pulled a fresh hanky from his pocket and let it soak up as much cum as possible. When he was done, he returned to his room and put the soaked fabric on his desk. He wrote the formula from the book on a piece of paper, according to the instructions. He then proceeded to reading the formula out loud: "Let the body of he who's fluids shall cover this page bond with mine. Let my body fourfold gain whatever mass he should obtain". He grabbed the hanky and rubbed it along the page, smearing his brother's cum onto the paper. In the car, a sudden wave of dizziness hit Brett. His vision went dark for a split second but then returned to normal. In his room, Jason felt an analogue sensation shoot through his own body. He hid the paper inside his desk. And then, the semester got underway. ------------------------------------------------------------ One month later. Brett indeed did well on the football team. He was among the best of the freshmen and everyone agreed that he could lead the team one day. He had become friends with most of the 'big five': the five biggest guys on the team, the group of seniors that dominated their part of the game. Four of them had invited him over for a drink after his first month on the team. The fifth, Mike, the star quarterback who led the team hadn't bothered. He didn't hang out with anyone on the team: his rich parents had rented him a flat off campus and his natural arrogance made him a first class jerk. But his skills on the football field combined with his 240 pounds of muscle made him an almost unstoppable force on the field. Even in the locker room his teammates moved away when he came in. The competitive spirit on the team drove Brett to the gym every day combined with his practice out on the field. Jason eased through his classes with little effort, studying punctually and avoiding the jocks. He didn't have any real friends as he kept to himself in the back of most classes and always returned home. The curse he'd cast on his brother did have positive effects: he'd put on 20 pound of pure muscle since the start of the academic year. At 175 pounds of defined muscle, he looked more like a fitness model when he took off his shirt. Even his face now looked more like that of an 18 year old with a more squared jaw line and the hint of a beard. He kept his new physique well hidden underneath baggy shirts he took from his brother's closet. Only back at home, he went into his brother's room, took off the baggy shirt and admired the new mass on his torso. Brett didn't understand why his body wasn't reacting to his training regime. He decided to up the intensity of his training: he doubled his daily workouts and upped his protein consumption drastically, gulping down shakes whenever he could. During his new early morning workouts, he frequently bumped into Mike in the otherwise deserted gym. The huge star player only nodded to him as he went through his workout. The effects of his brother's increased training were quickly visible on Jason's body. During the next two weeks, he put on another 20 pounds of muscle. His new weight (195 pounds) and muscular arms (17 inches) made him look like a very well muscled fitness model. The once baggy shirts from his brother's closet now hugged his torso nicely and he no longer hid his physique. More heads turned his way as he passed to his classes and even his dad made proud comments. He began drinking protein shakes from the tubes left in his brother's room. One day he even decided to join the local gym. A bit nervous he stepped in and went to the front desk. "What can I do for you?", the guy behind the desk asked. "I'm new here", Jason said, "I would like to join this gym." "You're obviously used to working out", the guy stated as he took in Jason's body, "I'll let you try out for free and we'll discuss the possibilities after you training. Locker room's over there." "Thanks", Jason said. He went into the locker room, changed and entered the gym. Three other guys were working out as he entered. They nodded to him as he went to the bench press. His body seemed to know what to do and the next hour, Jason eased through a good workout. By the end, his pecs and triceps were pumped. He showered quickly and went to the bar to order a shake. The same guy from the desk made him a protein shake. "Had a good workout I see", the guy said and motioned to Jason's pumped arms. "Yeah", Jason replied, "I think I'll join this gym." "Good", the guy stated, "Membership for a month? Or a year?" "Make it a year", Jason answered, "And I'll have another shake too." "There you go", the guy said, "All done. Hope to see you again soon." Jason gulped down his second protein shake and went home. It was the first of his daily visits to the gym. As the semester went on and got near the end, Brett's performance on the field began waning. His body lacked its usual level of energy, during practice he went from being the best among the freshmen to a good top five and in the gym most of his lifts were off. He still looked muscular but hadn't gained one single pound since arriving at Orchid University despite his grueling workout regime and the vast amount of protein he was ingesting. He was probably close to overtraining for once was happy that exams were coming up so he would have a break from training. --------------------------------------------------------------------- At the end of the semester Brett had passed his exams reasonably and was happy to return home for the holidays. He took a train home and arrived mid-afternoon. He entered the house and found his brother lying on the couch. "You're home early", Jason said as he sat up. Brett noticed his brother's deepened voice and blinked as he recognized the shirt. "Are you wearing one of my shirts?", he asked. "Yea", Jason replied, "Mine don't fit anymore since my recent growth spurt. Yours are fine. Bit tight though." Brett didn't respond but took in how the shirt clung to his formerly bony brother's torso. "Huh", he said as he noticed his brother was speaking. "I asked if ya want to go hit the gym. It's time for my workout", Jason repeated while he stood up. "You work out?", Brett asked incredulously. Despite feeling far from okay, he couldn't resist the chance of showing his grown brother who was the alpha. "Fine", he said, "I'll go change and I'll show ya how a real man trains, little bro." A few minutes later, Jason drove both of them to the gym in his new car. None of them spoke a word, the tension between the two brothers hanging in the air: Jason eager to show what his new muscles could do and Brett determined to highlight his dominance. They continued their silence as Jason parked the car and they walked into the gym. "Yo Sam", Jason said to the guy behind the desk, "Brought my bro today. Ya mind if he joins me?". "Bro, I used to train here. I'm a member. Still have my card", Brett interjected and handed his card to Sam. "Yar membership isn't active if ya didn't pay", Jason answered. "Card is no longer active", Sam read from the computer screen, "Do you want to reactivate you membership?". "He's only here for a week. Ya mind if he trains with me for free?", Jason asked. "No problem, J. I'll arrange it", Sam replied. "J?", Brett asked as they entered the locker room. "The guys around here call me J", Jason said and tossed his bag into the locker, "Let's toss some weight around". Brett followed his brother into the deserted gym up to the rack of dumbbells. "Friday is back", Jason said as he grabbed a pair of heavy dumbbells and began doing rows. Brett followed reluctantly: his back wasn't his strong point and his old level of energy was still lacking. He couldn't believe how easy his brother handled the heavy dumbbells. The guy kept cranking out reps when his back was burning from the effort and he dropped the dumbbells. The next hour Jason cruised through his workout while Brett struggled to keep up. Whenever Jason saw his brother grab a weight, he made sure to grab a heavier one and pump out more reps. "Something wrong, bro?", he asked as he saw Brett trying to catch his breath. "Feeling a bit tired from my trip home", Brett muttered in between deep breaths, "We're done yet?". "One more exercise, bro", Jason said and walked over to the pull up station. He grabbed the bar and performed 50 perfect reps. Brett looked at his brother in disbelief, watching the muscles on his wide back work. He nodded 'no' as his brother motioned him to start. "Come on, bro. Thought ya were gonna show me how a real man trains", Jason said smugly and folded his arms in front of his chest to emphasize the new thickness of his biceps. "Fine", Brett replied to maintain some of his old dominant pose. He grabbed the bar and pulled himself up. He tried to ignore how little fluent the motion looked compared to his brother. He reached 15 reps before his grip faltered and he jumped down. He avoided his brother's gaze while he sat down on a nearby bench. "I'm done", he mumbled exhaustedly. Jason just grinned and performed three more long sets of pull ups. "Let's call it a day, bro", he said and walked out of the gym, enjoying how his pumped lats pushed his arms out from his sides and added wideness to his posture. "Prepare me a shake for after my shower, Sam", he said as he passed the bar. Brett followed his brother, marveled at the formerly shy guy's new dominant attitude and the wideness of his frame. As they entered the locker room and begin stripping down, he felt like saying something to excuse his lame work out if he wanted to keep his dominant position in the family. "You're lucky I'm tired from my trip, Jason", he said, "If not you would have begged for mercy". The lack of conviction in his tone only emphasized the hollowness of his words and only diminished his dominance. "Tired. Right, bro", Jason added sarcastically. Savoring how his brother tried to ignore their new statuses. He didn't even bother to look aside and kept stripping down. Brett entered the shower first and went to the furthest shower head in the right corner. He faced the wall as he turned on the water. His mind still trying to process the new reality. A few moments later he heard another shower turning on and he cautiously turned his head a bit. He saw his brother standing under the shower in the center of the left wall. Jason wasn't facing the wall as he showered. Ever since he'd grown he didn't miss an opportunity to display his body. Brett glanced from the corner of his eyes, blinking when he saw his brother's biceps twitch as the guy washed his hair. He quickly turned his head back to the wall when his brother opened his eyes. "I'm gonna have my shake, bro. Don't take too long, I wanna get home for dinner. Gotta feed my body", Jason said and left the shower. A few minutes later Brett showed up in the bar. His brother was gulping down a second protein shake based on the other empty glass on the bar. "Yeah, up to 215 since last week", he heard Jason say to Sam as he approached. "Ya pay these shakes, bro. I got ya in for free. See ya tomorrow, Sam", Jason said and stood up. Brett quickly paid his brother's shakes and followed Jason to his car. Back home, Brett was greeted by his parents and the family enjoyed their first family dinner in months. Unlike before he'd left to Orchid University, Brett wasn't being served first. Jason took the biggest steak and the largest serving of potatoes. After the first serving, Jason and Brett reached for the steak that was left. A quick glance and a slight flex of his brother's right arm made Brett retreat his fork and he watched his brother devour the juicy steak. Just three months ago there would have been no question to whom would eat the last steak. Somehow his once lanky brother had become more dominant while Brett had been at Orchid University. As his brother helped himself to his third serving of potatoes, Brett excused himself and mumbled an excuse of being fatigued from his trip. "Hope ya're feeling better tomorrow for our work out, bro", Jason said with a full mouth. The next morning Brett did feel better when he got up. He went down and found his brother dressed in his workout gear at the table. "Feeling fresh, bro?", Jason asked and gulped down a protein shake. "Let's hit the gym and I'll show you", Brett spat back and made himself a shake too. "Can't wait", Jason replied with a grin. Just minutes later the two brothers drove off to the gym, greeted Sam and entered the weight room. "Arm day, Jason", Brett said and grabbed a 80 pound bar. This time he was going to make his brother follow his lead. He cranked out reps, enjoying the feeling of his biceps pumping. Brett just grinned and grabbed the 90 pound barbell as a warm up. He made sure to pump out 5 reps more than his brother. "Time for the real work", Brett stated and grabbed the 150 pound bar. He groaned and his face reddened instantly as he managed 8 reps. He dropped the bar and looked aside with a grin. The grin froze on his face as he saw his brother curling the 170 pound bar. Unlike him, his brother even managed three sets. "What's up next, bro?", Jason asked matter-off-factly. "Hammer curls", Brett said angrily and grabbed a pair of 80 pound dumbbells. After two reps the familiar feeling of fatigue and weakness began spreading in his biceps. At his sixth rep his biceps were burning painfully and he had to drop the weight. Jason shook his head, grabbed the 100 pound dumbbells and began pumping out reps casually. "…3,4,5,6,7,8…", he counted out loud to stress his new strength. He managed 12 nice reps before gently lowering the weight. Brett didn't want to go down without a fight and grabbed the 80 pounders again. This time the painful burning filled his biceps at the first reps. His arms shook, his body trembled as hoisted the dumbbells up. After three lousy reps, his grip gave out and the weights crashed down on the floor. "Watch it, bro. Sam doesn't like weights being thrown down. Show some respect.", Jason said while he began his second set. He once more performed 12 perfectly controlled reps before ending his set. "Next one", Brett said as he racked his dumbbells. "Not done just yet, bro", Jason replied and performed a third and fourth set just to show off his new position. It felt like he was getting more dominant with every rep he did. "Now we're done", he said after his fourth set. "Preacher curls", Brett muttered and stepped over to the machine. He selected a 100 pounds and began pumping out reps. Jason sat down on the adjacent machine, selected 200 pounds and followed his brother's lead. The competition was on and neither one wanted to quit first. After 20 reps, Brett's arms cramped up completely and he had to stop. His body felt completely drained. He looked aside and his eyes widened in disbelief as he saw his brother continuing his grueling set. Jason felt totally energized. His body fed on the energy of his brother that pushed him beyond his limits. "…35,36,37…38…39…40", he groaned and ended his set. The pump in his biceps was unreal. "That was fun, bro. Let's hit triceps now", he said and stood up. "Wh…what?", Brett blurred out in total disbelief. Jason grinned at his brother's reaction. "Sure thing, bro. Biceps are just half the work on arm day", he said and returned to the dumbbells. "Or are ya tired again?", he added. Brett followed his brother but didn't train anymore. He just handed him the weights he demanded. He felt his once dominant position weaken with every rep his brother performed and even handed him his towel when he asked for it. He simply watched After an hour, Jason finally decided that their workout was over. His arms were fully engorged, his biceps and triceps pumped after the torture he had put them through. "Can't even flex from the pump", he said as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. "Fine. Let's hit the shower. And bring my towel, bro", he stated and left. Brett grabbed his brother's towel and followed the guy. He gazed at the defined, hard triceps that jutted out from the back of his meaty arms. "Thanks, bro", Jason said as he grabbed the towel from his brother's hand and ripped his shirt off. "Can't get it over my head. My arms are too pumped", he said as he saw the shocked expression on his brother's face. "When ya train like a real man, ya swill feel this too", he added and strutted into the showers. Brett followed a few minutes later. He entered the shower zone and saw his brother standing in the center of the left wall, his body on full display for everyone. He looked away quickly when his brother made eye contact. He retreated to the furthest shower on the opposite wall and face the wall like the day before. Now and then, he turned his head slightly to peak at his brother. The way his biceps swelled as his brother massaged his hair made a faint 'wow' escape his mouth. He quickly turned his head back to the wall when his brother opened his eyes again. "Time for my shake. Don't make me wait, bro", Jason said while he left. Brett inhaled deeply when he was alone in the shower zone. The second training with his brother had made another deep dent in his once unquestionable dominant position. Deep down he knew he wasn't the alpha anymore but his brain refused to accept the new reality. He turned off the shower, got dressed and went to the bar. He blinked as he saw Sam feeling his brother's left arm. Jason noticed his brother. "Now ya know what a real arms feels like, Sam", he said and gulped down his second protein shake. He got up, winked to Sam and left. Brett wanted to follow his brother but was asked to pay for the shakes again. He did and followed his brother to his car. On the ride home, he took short glances at his brother's arms, watching the corded muscles on his forearms tense as he shifted gears. Back home he rushed into his room and didn't come out until dinner. As it was Christmas the next day, the gym was closed and Brett was relieved not having to join his brother again. At noon the family gathered for their traditional feast. The food was delicious and most of it ended up on Jason's plate. Everyone watched, the parents lovingly and Brett in disbelief, as Jason wolfed down serving after serving. "Ya done, bro?", he asked and took the half serving of meat lying on Brett's plate. When every dish was emptied, he patted his tight six-pack happily. "Gotta feed my body", he said, "Fuelling up for our workout tomorrow. Can't wait for it, bro". "Me too", Brett said unconvincingly. "I'm so glad you two finally share an interest and spent some time together. I'm proud of both of you", their father said. The next morning Brett found his brother once again waiting for him at the breakfast table. Minutes later they were driving toward the gym. As the previous times none of the brothers spoke a word and the tension hanging in the air was like a thunderstorm ready to explode. Both of them knew it would be a decisive moment: Brett was fighting to maintain his former dominance over his brother and Jason was ready to finally claim the top position as alpha of the family. They maintained their silence until they entered the weight room. "Let's smash chest", Jason said. He put on his usual warm up weight and cranked out 20 quick reps. "I'll show ya how it's done, bro", Brett said smugly and cranked out 20 equally fast reps. He knew that his chest was his best muscle group and he wasn't going to step down from the confrontation today. Jason added some weight to the bar and did his first working set of 12 solid reps. Brett followed suit. Jason continued adding weight to the bar after each set. After their third set Brett's chest was beginning to feel fatigued. He'd even one rep less than his brother. "Fourth set", Jason groaned as he pushed up the bar and cranked out another 8 reps. Brett got under the bar, pushed it up and felt his arms shake. He got to 5 reps before his pecs gave out and he re-racked the bar. He stood up, trying to catch his breath and felt his face turn red. "Not so strong after all", Jason said smugly. He added two more plates to the bar and got another solid 7 reps. "Put on some more weight, bro", he said as he laid down on the bar. Brett did as he was told and watched in disbelief as his brother pumped out 5 reps with the heavy bar. It was 30 pounds more than his own max. He felt his once undisputed position slipping away. "Dumbbell presses", Jason said as he stood up from the bench press and wandered over to the free weights. He grabbed the third heaviest pair and began his exercise. Brett followed suit but took a pair of considerably lighter dumbbells. "A bit over trained from football", he mumbled to his brother. Even with the lighter weights he couldn't pump out the reps of his brother. He dropped the weights to the floor and looked in disbelief as his brother grabbed the heaviest dumbbells. "Don't hurt yourself, bro. I never managed that weight", he said. Jason grinned and cranked out 8 solid reps, enjoying the feeling of the pump spreading through his chest. "Too bad they don't have any heavier dumbbells", he grunted as he did three more sets. He sat up, racked the dumbbells and went to the dipping station. "You go first, bro", he said, "ya had time to catch yar breath while I was still dumbbell pressing." Brett grabbed the handles and began dipping. He got 12 nice reps before his arms began shaking. He managed two more reps before jumping down. Jason grabbed the handles and copied his brother's movement. On his twelfth rep, he intentionally made his arms tremble. Then, he continued dipping. Brett's eyes widened as his brother passed the 30 rep point with perfect form. He felt the balance of dominance between them shift with every passing set. "50", Jason groaned and stepped down from the dipping station, "You're up, bro." Brett reluctantly grabbed the handles again. By now his chest felt totally exhausted but he couldn't give up just like that. He only got to 6 reps before his form faltered completely. Jason went through his second set, getting to another solid 40 reps. He stepped down and looked at his brother. Brett simply shook 'no' and pretended to suffer from cramp. His mind on the verge of accepting he had been knocked down by his once lanky brother. Jason blasted through three more sets of 35 dips. He inhaled deeply as he stepped down from the dipping station, his stretched tank top protesting with some tearing sounds as his pumped pecs inflated further. "Pec deck is up next, bro", he said. From that point on Brett simply followed his brother through the gym and watched as he pushed out rep after rep, and feeling him get more dominant with every rep. An hour after they'd arrived, Jason finished his fifth set of pushups and got up. His sweat-drenched tank top was glued to his pumped torso. "Enough for today", he grunted and walked toward the locker room, not even looking at his brother. None of the brothers spoke a word when they began stripping off their workout gear in the locker room. Both of them knowing that the balance of dominance had shifted completely and definitively. Brett's mind was still processing the acceptance of being taken down a notch and Jason was savoring in his new position. "Someone pumped his pecs today." Brett turned around at the remark and saw Sam entering the locker room and admiring his brother's chest. His eyes widened as the guy stepped up to his brother and groped the pumped mass of muscle atop his chest. "Ya like feeling a real chest, don't ya", Jason asked while he let the smaller guy worship his pecs. "Come on. Flex 'em, J.", Sam pleaded. Brett just stared at the unbelievable scene in front of him. Jason grinned and flexed his chest, making striations explode under the smaller guy's touch. "Ya know what to do, Sam", he said casually while he stared right into his brother's eyes. Brett's eyes widened when the smaller guy kneeled, slid down his brother's pants to reveal his plump cock and took it in his mouth. He couldn't believe what was happening right there in the center of the locker room. It was as if he wasn't there for those two guys and his brother kept staring directly into his eyes with a smug expression on his face. Within seconds Jason spilled his load into Sam's eager mouth. When his orgasm wore off, he pulled his cock from the guy's mouth and walked to the shower zone. "Don't ya need a shower, bro?", he asked as he passed his brother. Brett watched Sam stand up and disappear and followed his brother's example. The next morning Brett awoke late. His parents had already left for work and his brother was apparently still in his room as he walked into the bathroom. He ditched his boxers and entered the long walk-in shower. He turned on the shower and enjoyed the hot water cascading down on his body. A grin formed on his face as he thought back at the countless times he'd jerked off against the tilled wall. Lately even his morning wood seemed less hard than at the end of summer. A faint noise caught his attention and he turned off the water. He turned around and a yelp escaped his mouth as he saw his fully nude brother standing at the entrance of the walk-in shower. "What the fuck, Jason", he said angrily while he put his hands in front of his cock. "I asked if ya were done here, little bro", Jason replied grinningly. His deepened baritone easily rivaling his brother's deep voice. Brett didn't react to the 'little bro'. He just stared at his brother's grown body. Standing just a few feet away, his brother looked truly intimidating. Just a few months earlier no one would have told they were brothers: he outsized Jason by a good 60 pounds. Now the tables had turned. Despite being close to his brother's weight, Brett's 212 pounds seemed way less intimidating than Jason's 215 pounds. Brett's muscles seemed a bit saggy: his pecs hung slightly as if their weight pulled them down and his shoulders hunched forward making his posture lack his once usual aura of strength and confidence. Jason on the other hand radiated power: his pecs protruded firmly from his chest and his wide shoulders formed a strong line capped with his rounded delts. His now squared face added to his masculine look. The guy seemed to ooze power and confidence. Jason grinned smugly while his brother scanned his torso. "Miring my bod like after all our workouts in the gym shower, little bro?", he asked casually. Brett tore his gaze from the ripped six-pack and focused on his brother's eyes. He blinked when he realized he had to look up slightly to stare Jason in the eye. "I'm no longer just technically the bigger brother", Jason said, "How big are yar arms?". "18 inches", Brett replied and tensed his right arm to show off his size. "18.5 inches cold", Jason replied. He raised his arms and threw a double bicep pose to emphasize his point. Brett could only stare as his brother displayed his superior form. Ever since their workout the balance of dominance had shifted entirely in favor of his brother and now Brett felt how Jason was imposing his alpha-status completely. "What does half an inch really mean", he muttered unconvincingly. Jason hardened his flex some more in reply to his brother's remark. "We both know what it means, little bro", he groaned and relaxed his pose. "Besides, I'm bigger everywhere", he added. "Huh?", Brett muttered as he pretended not to know what his brother meant. Jason stepped closer while he casually stroked his cock, grabbed his brother's ass and pulled him in. Their hard cocks brushed against each other. "See what I mean, little bro?", he asked. Brett followed his brother's gaze down and inhaled sharply: his brother's cock pressed into his the base below his cock while his own cock lay atop his brother's dick without touching his brother's groin and didn't rival his brother's one in girth either. "See, little bro. Mine's longer and thicker than yours. I'm bigger everywhere!", Jason boomed and savored his new dominant status. His erection jolted underneath his brother's hard dick. Brett broke from his brother's grasp and took a step back. "How did you do it, Jason?", he asked, "you were a runt before I left and now you're…". "The bigger man, ya mean", Jason rumbled, "I cast a curse. When you train, my body gains the size you would have gained. The more ya train, the bigger I get. And ya can't stop training or ya'll lose yar scholarship. So, ya will only make me bigger and bigger, little bro." "Cursed me?", Brett let out, "You're just on steroids. Now get lost so I can shower in peace." "Ya're in no position to tell me what to do, little bro", Jason said, "How many times did ya storm in here when I was showering and told me to leave? Flexing yar arms to intimidate me? Mocking me with yar brawn being superior to me brain? Guess what, little bro: I have brains and brawn now. I'm the new alpha here. Ya should now yar new place." Brett retreated some more, his back pressing against the tilled wall. He had never felt this intimidated before and his once runty brother was doing it to him. He saw his brother come closer and reaching for him. He tried resisting but his weakened body was no match for his now buff brother. Jason easily pushed his brother's arms aside and grabbed his armpits. He turned his brother around and made him face the tilled wall. His 8,5 incher pointed straight at his brother's meaty ass. Brett put his hands against the tilled wall and tried pushing his body away from the wall but his brother held on to his armpits firmly. "Let me go, Jason. you can shower in peace", he mumbled. The words died on his lips as he felt the head of his brother's cock brush against his ass. "No", he mumbled. Jason ignored his brother's cries and shoved his dick into the tight hole. He moaned in pleasure as he busted through the clenched defenses and felt the ass clamp against his cock. "Please….", Brett pleaded in vain. Pain exploded through his body as his brother rammed his cock entirely into his ass. His hands clawed against the tilled walls and a high painful shriek escaped his mouth. "Ya're the little bro now. I'm the new alpha here", Jason moaned, grabbed hold of his brother's hips and began pumping his cock in and out of his brother's clenching ass. Tears leaked from Brett's eyes as his brother installed his total dominance. He felt humiliated beyond anything he'd ever felt. He felt his brother's hot breath against his neck and his brother's deep moans rumbled in his right ear with every thrust of the cock in his ass. His arms trembled and his entire body rocked on the rhythm of his brother's fucking. He looked down and to his horror he noticed that his own cock was at full mast and throbbing. Jason heard his brother's painful shrieks and they only excited him more. He was quickly getting close to orgasm and he felt his balls churning while he ravaged the ass of the brother who had physically dominated the family for years. The slow process of destroying his brother's dominance during their workouts and gradually stripping him of his old alphaness now culminated into fucking him into his new role while he assumed Brett's former position at the top of the family hierarchy. He pulled back his cock almost completely and then rammed it with full force into the clenching ass. "YEAH", he roared loudly as he exploded deep inside his brother. Brett shivered as his brother's spunk filled him with liquid heat and the violence of Jason's orgasm shook his own body violently. He felt spurt after spurt after spurt shoot inside him. At the same time his own cock exploded against the tilled wall. "Ughn", he grunted as his balls blasted out four loads of cum. His own moan drowning in the noise of his brother's deeper moans. Unlike before he didn't feel all-powerful as he came inside the shower, this time he felt nothing but shame. When his blasts stopped, his brother kept squirting his load into him. He felt the sticky juice slide along his legs while his body continued shaking on the rhythm of his brother's thrusts. After eight loads Jason's orgasm finally wore off and he pulled his dick from his brother's ass. "I don't expect to see ya in the gym today, little bro", he grunted and left his humiliated brother in the shower. Brett crashed down, his body destroyed from the fucking by his brother and cried inside the shower that had once made him feel untouchable.
  2. Pardon the tags... what I've written so far is mostly set up at the moment. I'd like to get some constructive feedback before I continue. Please refrain from calling out my punctuation mistakes. Otherwise let me know if I should continue. I understand that so far this plot has been done like a million different times...but honestly nowadays what plot hasn't? Hopefully you can find something unique to my story. Please let me know what you think. Also apologies for the chapters being so short...it looks longer on Microsoft. Chapter 1 I pulled into my driveway and pushed the clicker on my garage opener. As the door slowly slid open I couldn’t help but crack a smile. Suddenly a rough day at work didn’t seem so terrible. My boyfriend of eight years was finally home after a two month work assignment back east. After shutting down the car and grabbing my gym bag I opened the door to my house… and the lights were off. Of course. I could hear the sounds of battle coming from upstairs. I don’t know why I expected him to be waiting for me by the door when I got home… he’s an avid player of this sword and magic computer game he plays with his friends, and the game released an expansion three days before he got home. Of course he didn’t have his gaming computer with him so he had to wait… which I know drove him nuts. I set my bag down by the washing machine and trudged up the stairs to our bedroom. I guided myself by the light blue light coming from my partner’s computer screen in the bedroom. I entered the room quietly. His back was to me and he had his headset on. He was frantically pushing buttons and shouting commands into his mic. “Stack! Stack! Over here…. Ok fast rez this pug over here… never mind we’ll get him later. Drop your A O E and push!” I still can’t translate all his gamer jargon. I waited a couple minutes while he finished his fight. Before he could find a new bad guy to go destroy I turned the lights on. Startled, he quickly turned to face me. His face lit up. Then he turned back to his screen. “Sorry guys, I have to go, Frizzle can you command? Thanks, see ya.” He shut down his game, tossed his headset down, and then proceeded to jump right into my arms. “Oh my god, I missed you so much… my family is terrible!” he exclaimed between kisses. “I missed you too babe,” I replied. “Looks like you managed to find some shopping at least.” He pulled back from our embrace and gave me his goofy smile. God I loved him so much. I set him down so he could parade what he got. “Yeah… so you won’t believe this,” he said excitedly. “I went to this specialty big and tall store and found these!” He pointed to his feet. He was wearing an enormous pair of sneakers. They were at least a few sizes larger than my own size 15 shoes. “check ‘em out… size 20! I never thought I’d find a store that carried them!” I laughed. “You could always try Amazon you know.” Still smiling, he quickly shot me that not-amused look that I knew all too well. “You can’t see them in real life on Amazon before you buy them,” he said pointedly. “You know I like to shop for shoes.” Still laughing I shot back “yeah, well you have no problem special ordering other clothes online.” He reached up and lightly tapped me on the chest. “That’s different… Speaking of which, I got a package today that had this in it,” he said, pointing to the oversized muscle-tank he looked like he was practically drowning in. “Oh, and these.” He lifted up his shirt revealing a pair of workout shorts that looked like pants on him, and untied the waist. The large shorts fell to the floor revealing a jockstrap with a gigantic pouch. The straps hung loosely around his legs and the waist was tied to hold it on his body. He was excited, in more than one way, but of course his thin 5.5 inch cock didn’t fill the giant pouch he had literally tied around his waist. He looked back up at me grinning ear to ear. At that moment he reminded me of a puppy that knew he had done well and was waiting for a treat. “Damn dude!” I told him, playing to his fantasy. “You’re gonna be huge when you grow into those!” “Damn right!” he shot back, smiling. I knew full well there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever fit those clothes. I’ve heard of people gaining an extra inch or two of height in their early to mid-twenties… but at 30 years old, even if by some miracle he had a growth spurt, there was no way my 5’4”, 130 lb stud with a size 8 shoe would fill this outfit out. Still, I entertained his fantasy because I love him. As long as I’ve known him he’s been fascinated with everything big. Big height, big muscle, big cock. That’s his motto. That’s why he fell for me so quickly. At 6’5” I’m a tall drink of water, and I’m pretty proud of my bodybuilder physique (it’s so much tougher for us tall guys). With those two traits when he first saw me he went weak in the knees... but when I got him home and he got his eyes on my thick 8.5” piece of meat deal was done. He decided right then and there he was gonna keep me. I must have zoned out just thinking about how I met my man, and how much I loved him and all his quirks all these years later. Because next thing I knew he was waving at me: “Hey…hey… earth to Aaron. Are you going to stand there and stare at me all evening? I love you, but I haven’t had sex in two months. I need your ass.” As was typical when he was wearing his bigger clothes he was the top that night. Chapter 2 He really was a horny little bastard. He shot 4 loads before pulling out, and then still got a fifth off all over my face before collapsing next to me. He leaned over to the nightstand and handed me a rag. “That’s gonna feel so much better when I’m bigger,” he said nonchalantly--still coming down off his orgasm. “I’m gonna open you up like you do me…and it’s going to be awesome when I go to the gym. I’ll walk around the locker room naked with my dick swinging back and forth and everyone will want it. I’ll be buff with pecs like yours and people will ask to feel my arms too. It’ll be awesome to have you be the little spoon for once.” “I can be your little spoon now,” I reassured him. He laughed. “Haha…yeah…but no. I mean I like holding you… but I can’t sleep like that, you’re too wide I can’t reach all the way around you like I’d like to yet. I want to be able to hold you like you hold me.” “But when you’re big, how am I going to keep the other guys off you? Who’s to say that you won’t find a guy that likes your size as much as you like mine? You might not want to keep me then” I teased. He sat up and looked me in the eye: “Aaron, you’re like a shoe that fits me perfectly… I’ll never outgrow you.” He stated seriously. “A shoe? Seriously?” I scolded playfully. “Patrick… I love you but you’re a dork.” I rolled out of bed. “All right big guy, let’s shower and get to bed… you’ve got to be jetlagged.” Chapter 3 The next few weeks went by fairly routinely. That is until one Saturday morning while I was cooking breakfast Patrick shouted down from the bedroom, “Aaron, Aaron come quick!” I hurried up the stairs to see what was the matter. Patrick was absent mindedly stroking his cock with one hand while scrolling down a browser with the other. “What’s up?” I asked. “You’ve got to read this” was his reply. I began scanning the screen. It was the results of a two year research study investigating a compound that was supposed to interact with the endocrine system, inducing height and muscular changes. “This is it… I’m finally going to get big!” Patrick exclaimed. “Wait…what?” I stuttered, trying to run through the page before he got too far ahead of me. “I finally found what I need to get big like you! I told you! I told you I’m gonna get huge like you!” I finished reading the synopsis. “Hold on a sec, guy… this says the study was discontinued early because the compound didn’t have an effect on enough participants. It’s been 3 years. Even then the best case scenario is an “increase of 1-3 inches in height as well as increased musculature, penis size and rigidity”. I quoted. “Honey, you can’t get more rigid… and is 1-3 inches worth any risk?” “Like you said, it’s been 3 years, I’m sure they’ve done more research,” he countered quickly, “and yes…1-3” would be worth it.” He gazed into my eyes with such sincerity and need that I quickly gave in. “If you think it’s what you need to do I’m with you 110%... remember though its 4 injections over the course of a year, so it’s not like you can change your mind.” I said. “I’ll think about it… but I won’t change my mind. I promise.” Chapter 4 Over the next several days I became concerned. Each night when I got home from work Patrick would be upstairs on his computer. Though instead of the usual video game chatter. I’d arrive to silence. I’d wander upstairs, and Patrick would be sprawled out by his desk, head phones in, scrawling through page after page of research. He sit there in his size 20 sneakers and oversized jock, every once in a while moving enough to make a bookmark, and every few hours I’d make him stop and walk downstairs to either eat or get some water. Or anything really…just something to let me know he was still alive. One night I was sitting downstairs watching the latest episode of Gotham when he came downstairs and sat beside me. He snuggled up next to me and after a few minutes simply said “I’m ready.” Patrick managed to book an initial intake appointment a few weeks later. He was nervous, and asked that I go with him. We drove from the suburbs to the address provided, which turned out to be an historic tire warehouse building that had been converted into a laboratory. The outside didn’t look too impressive. Just faded signs painted on the walls probably 80 years ago, a Starbucks on the ground floor, and two purposefully rusty-looking doors with a buzzer and keypad to the right of them. I pressed the buzzer and a voice quickly answered, asking Patrick to confirm his appointment. He did and the door clicked allowing us entry. The interior of the building was markedly different from the outside. It was very brightly lit. Very sterile looking. At the center of the room was a large white circular desk. A young twinkish man who looked like he was maybe a freshman in college sat at the desk. As we approached the desk he checked us both out. Very obviously. He smirked at Patrick, then glanced me over and then fumbled with some paperwork on his desk as we got near. “Hello,” he said. “You must be Patrick. Thank you for coming. Dr. Stevens will be with you shortly.” He turned to me. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name, and I don’t see another appointment at this time.” “Oh no, I’m just here with him,” I replied. The twink gave us a knowing look. “Oh ok, that’s cool. Make yourself comfortable. We have a few chairs and some reading material. Do you need anything to drink?” “Not at the moment. Thank you,” I responded. Patrick finished his questionnaire and we sat down. A few minutes later I saw a man with a clipboard walk down the stairs. He was about 6’2”, with a nice athletic build and short, jet black hair. He was wearing a blue button down shirt and black denim jeans. “Howdy… Patrick?” he asked. Patrick looked up from the fitness magazine he had started to read. Introductions were made and the doctor invited us upstairs. Chapter 5 Dr. Stevens’s office was fairly nondescript. It consisted of a large oak desk, a couple chairs, a computer, a lamp, and a large bookcase full of books and knickknacks. In the center of the bookcase was an urn, next to the urn sat a tiny little barbell and a photo of a child in a wheelchair. I couldn’t tell you the kid’s age. His head too large for his body, which seemed to have little to no musculature at all. He was short, though his hands looked large. Despite all this I couldn’t help but be entertained by the kid’s beaming smile. Whoever was taking the photo obviously meant the world to this young man and you couldn’t look at this photo without seeing it in his expression. “mgm-hmm,” Dr. Stevens coughed. We all took a seat around the desk. “My secretary says you’re quite persistant, Mr.” “Patrick,” my boyfriend chimed in, “and this is my partner Aaron.” “Nice to meet you both, so what can I help you with.” Patrick looked at me for reassurance. I gave him a nod, and he began grinning ear to ear and scooted to the edge of his seat. This seemed to make the doctor uncomfortable for a moment as he shifted in his chair and shot a glance to the urn on his bookshelf. “Sir, three years ago you lead a study on the effects of a certain compound on the endocrine system,” Patrick started. “That study ended early,” the doctor interrupted. “The compound was deemed ineffective on human systems.” Patrick’s grin faded. “Yes, but it wasn’t…” “Wasn’t what?” The doctor was obviously agitated. “If you’d done your research you would have realized that the compound you speak of was only effective in less than 1% of the sample. Even then the effects were insufficient for continued funding. I’m a busy man, do you have a reason for hounding my assistant for days to get an appointment or did you just want me to read the conclusion of my paper for you?” Feeling intimidated, Patrick slouched back into his chair momentarily before standing up and walking towards the door. He was doing his best to fight back tears. I stood to join him, my heart felt heavy looking at my lover’s dejected demeanor. I could see his hope…his dream… falling to pieces in front of me. “It wasn’t a failure,” I said softly while looking straight at Patrick. “You had results. Sure, they weren’t as much as hoped for… but they were results. My partner…my boyfriend…has taken time off work, and has driven over 50 miles for an hour of your time. Sure, it’s a long shot. But from where he’s standing it’s his best shot of attaining the one thing he’s wanted for as long as he could breathe. The entire reason we’re here-- the reason he’s blown up your secretary’s phone and email. Is because he wants… he needs… to explore this opportunity.” Patrick wiped a tear from his cheek, his eyes lit up. He had his fire back. “Sir,” he stated. “Aaron’s right. The study wasn’t a failure. Please give me a chance. Even if it’s a small chance” He looked the doctor squarely in the eye. He spoke with sincerity. With need. “Someday I’m going to be big… like you and Aaron. I know it. I just need help getting there. Please help me.” Dr. Stevens didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. He stared at Patrick as though he’d seen a ghost. Finally he began fiddling with a pen. Squeezing it until his knuckles turned white then releasing it, over and over. He stood up and walked over to the bookcase. Standing in front of the urn with his back to us he finally spoke: “You don’t just stop and start studies willy-nilly. That’s not how professional research works,” he began. “But?” Patrick said quietly. “But,” the doctor turned, “my research has never really stopped to be honest. No, I don’t have any current “subjects” or “trials”, but the scientist in me still looks for the answers I know are out there. I didn’t have enough subjects to truly test out the compound I developed, and funding dried up. My old company blamed faulty research, but it wasn’t. The formula is just very specific. It only affects a fraction of a fraction of the human population—and I have developed a hypothesis that that’s because it affects a specific hormonal genetic marker that only one in several million people have. I don’t have the resources I’d need to prove or disprove that any longer.” “What happens if you get the injection and you don’t have the marker,” I asked. “Nothing,” the doctor sighed. “If it doesn’t work, you may as well have been injected with saline.” “Do… do you still have access to your old formula?” Patrick asked carefully. The doctor looked at him skeptically. “I do.” “Then may I try it?” He continued quickly, “If it doesn’t work, we’ve lost nothing. If it does, we have everything to gain. I’ll sign whatever legal papers I need to absolve you of any liability. I’ll pay you. Please. What can I offer to get your help? I'll do anything.” The pleading look in his eyes spoke louder than words. The doctor sat back down and put his head between his hands. After a few moments he looked up. “I may very well lose my license over this, but I’ll do it. You remind me so much of my brother I’d be ashamed if I said no.” Patrick was so excited his legs gave out. As he sunk to his knees tears streamed down his face. I hurried over to hold him. I’d never seen him so excited. He was shaking. “Oh my god… oh my god,” he kept repeated. “It’s gonna happen! It’s finally gonna happen!” Dr. Stevens took some Kleenex out of his desk drawer. He then picked up the phone and told his assistant to clear his schedule for the evening. He took a couple and handed them to us. He gave us a few minutes for Patrick to collect himself before speaking again. “Ada…I mean Patrick. Now since I’ve agreed to assist you and provide you with the compound, we need to discuss terms. We are going to approach this scientifically. Before we administer the first injection, I need to have you sign some disclosure and consent forms. Also, I want to run a full blood work up on you. I’m certain you won’t be allergic to the formula, I’d just like to have a baseline for your hormone levels. Also, I’m going to need to run a complete physical—including height, weight, musculature, and sexual function. Once that’s complete I can administer the injection. If you react, you should begin to notice some changes within the next three to four days. I ask that you email me if you feel any changes. In the meantime, I will provide you with a diet and exercise plan that you must follow daily. We will schedule a follow up appointment one week from today. If you’re not reacting to the formula no need to come in. If you do have a reaction we will continue to the next phase. Keep in mind that once you receive the injection it’s irreversible.” Patrick looked at me once again for approval. I nodded. “I understand,” Patrick said. “How much do I owe you?” Dr. Stephens smiled. “We’re going to do this right. For this first visit there will be no payment. If you react to the formula, each week I will provide to you a stipend to cover the full cost of anything study related.” “I thought you didn’t have funding.” I said, stunned by his generous offer. “The one exception I’m making for this project is that this particular trial will be paid out of a very special trust fund, if it should be successful” the doctor replied, again glancing at the urn. “Thank you sir,” Patrick said. “Where do I sign?”
  3. * FINALLY FINISHED * "Ah, so you're JP's big brother," Andrew realized, once he heard the caller's name. "It's good to meet you man: verbally at least." "It's good to meet you too Andrew," Ryan replied, fully aware that his former coach could hear them. He didn't give voice to his thoughts: I don't want to be known as JP's brother; I'm my own man! "Once Tyler told me all about you, I looked you up on that new YouTube site and saw all your videos. You're an awesome football player man, and you'll have no trouble getting a full ride to any school you want!" "Thanks man," Andrew said, pleased that Ryan had told him how he had found out all about him. "I'm glad to have one fan at least." "Much more than just one, considering all the views your videos got," Ryan assured him sincerely. "That's part of the reason my college coach wanted me to call Coach Palmer and arrange this phone call. My coach told me to tell you that he's going to arrange an Unofficial Recruiting Visit down here for you the next time you're in Virginia." "That's very flattering man; thank him for me," Andrew said. "I'll have to give you the contact information for my high school football coach back in Orillia. He can coordinate with your college football coach to arrange everything for the visit." "It wasn't just your online videos that put you on his radar Andrew," Ryan informed him. "He also took note of your impressive performance at the football camps you attended this spring." "Well I'm glad I wasn't easy to miss," Andrew said seriously. "After all, I was among dozens of other high school football players at those camps, and I think I was the only Canadian there." "You're impossible to miss Andrew," Ryan assured him . "My coach told me that when he saw you in March, you weighed 275 pounds and stood 6 foot 7 inches tall." "Those were my old stats," Andrew said with a cocky smirk. He noticed Coach Palmer edging away to give him some privacy and added, "I'm bigger now." "How much do you weigh now Andrew?" Ryan asked him, sounding a little nervous. "305 pounds of solid muscle," Andrew replied, having detected a hint of fear in Ryan's voice. "It was a great day when I reached the average weight of an NFL lineman." "That's awesome man; I'm really happy for you," Ryan said sincerely. "Coach Palmer's no longer in hearing range Ryan; tell me how you really feel," Andrew said, just to test him. "I have been man," Ryan said seriously, hearing the slight hint of menace in Andrew's voice. I'm going to have to watch myself with him, he thought to himself. He sounds like he's just as smart as my little brother! "My coach told me that your performance at the spring football camps led to you getting offers for Unofficial Recruiting Visits throughout the Midwest." "Starting with Ohio State tomorrow," Andrew said, deliberately dropping the name of JP's hopeful college. "When do I get to meet you in person Ryan?" "You'll have to wait until your Unofficial Recruiting Visit at Virginia Tech," Ryan replied. "My coach asked me if I would be willing to be your campus guide, and I'd be glad to do it." "Thanks man," Andrew said gratefully, getting the feeling that Ryan was a really great guy under his cocky jock exterior. "You know, I just thought of a way we can see each other face-to-face even if we're probably dozens of miles apart." "You're right man, I'm in Harrisonburg off I-81 right now," Ryan agreed. "How can we see each other face-to-face without being in the same room?" he asked. "On Skype man," Andrew replied. "I have it on my laptop. Do you have it on yours?" "Sure I do man," Ryan replied with a big grin, getting excited at the notion of seeing just how big and muscular Andrew truly was. "Do you want to talk later once you get back to your hotel room?" "That sounds like a great idea," Andrew replied, anxious to see what the famous Ryan Maloney looked like. "It's a much better way for two new friends to chat long distance than on Instant Messenger." He heard a long silence on the other end of the line and hastily added, "If you want to be friends, that is." "That's fine with me Andrew," Ryan agreed eagerly. "It would be great to get to know you better and find out how you got so big and strong. Coach told me that you can bench 700 pounds for reps!" "Yeah, that's only because I couldn't find enough weight plates in your home gym to get to my max of 800 pounds tonight," Andrew said cockily. "Hopefully the gym at Virginia Tech has enough weight plates to challenge me." "Wow!" Ryan shouted in astonishment after another long silence. "You're insanely strong man; I bet you can bust through any defensive line effortlessly!" "Yeah I can man, but I always help the other players up afterwards to be a good sport," Andrew said seriously. "No sense being a sore winner." "I've heard of sore losers, but what's a sore winner?" Ryan asked curiously. "A sore winner is someone who gloats about his victory, acting cocky and arrogant as he rubs his success in other people's faces," Andrew replied. He decided to be completely honest with Ryan about his younger brother and added, "Kind of like how JP was during his last workout with you this spring." "So he told you about that, did he?" Ryan asked angrily. "No, I kind of tricked it out of him," Andrew replied. "I'll tell you more when we chat on Skype tonight, but I'd better text you my contact information on Skype now." "Don't forget your cell phone number Andrew, and ask Coach Palmer for mine," Ryan reminded him. "Thanks man," Andrew said gratefully, pleased that he and Ryan could keep in touch. "You know, it might be hard for you to confirm you got the text while you're on the phone with me," he suddenly realized. "Do you have a notepad you can write on instead?" "Good idea man; yeah I do," Ryan replied. After a few seconds, he said, "Go ahead Big Guy, I'm ready." Andrew quickly gave him all the required information and then Ryan returned the favour, once Andrew pulled out his cell phone. "I've got all your contact information Ryan," Andrew said. "I'll text you when I get back to my hotel and then we can meet face-to-face on Skype." "I look forward to it Andrew," Ryan said sincerely. "Get Coach Palmer back on the phone. I want to thank him for arranging this cell phone call with you this evening." "That's a good idea Ryan," Andrew said, signalling Coach Palmer to come closer. Once Coach Palmer stepped up beside him, Andrew added, "It was great talking to you man; I'll see you on Skype later tonight." "Goodbye Andrew," Ryan said, before Andrew handed Coach Palmer's cell phone back to him. Andrew waited patiently while Ryan filled Coach Palmer in on all that he had discussed with Andrew. Once the call was over, Coach Palmer turned to Andrew and said, "Very good Andrew: now you have another Unofficial Recruiting Visit lined up for this summer, hosted by one of my best players no less! Ryan thinks a lot of you and he'll be very happy to host a big man like you on campus!" "Yeah, and I'll enjoy being hosted by the Big Man on Campus," Andrew said with a big grin. "Very funny Andrew, making a play on my words like that!" Coach Palmer chuckled. "Hey, I don't just have brawn, I actually have brains as well!" Andrew reminded him with a cocky smirk. "I know that now Andrew," Coach Palmer assured him with an indulgent smile. "But since we're standing on the football field, how about you show me just how skilled you are at using your brawn. I can see that you're already prepared, since you're holding your football." He noticed Andrew's cocky smirk morph into a confident grin and added, "I'll use my digital camera to capture your performance on the field and then I can send that video to Ryan's college coach." Andrew nodded in agreement and slowly took off his football jacket. "Would you mind putting my jacket on the fence behind you Coach? I don't want it to get dirty." "You just want to leave the back of your Varsity Jacket free for a Provincial Championship patch, don't you?" Coach Palmer realized with a big grin. When Andrew nodded, he added, "Then you'd better take off your t-shirt as well, then you won't get it dirty either." Andrew grinned with excitement at the prospect of showing off his huge muscles and slowly began to peel off his skin-tight t-shirt, disguising the effort to make it look like a show for the coach. Coach Palmer's eyes widened in astonishment and more than a little fear at Andrew's massive shoulders, huge pecs, enormous biceps and eight-pack abs. "Uhhh... that's great Andrew, now jog across the field to the other end zone so that I can throw you the ball," Coach Palmer stammered. "You can catch a hundred yard pass, can't you?" "If you can throw the ball that far Coach," Andrew teased him. "I certainly can Andrew; I just hope you can run that far," Palmer said, taking the Miami Football out of Andrew's hands. "Move it Mister: that's an order!" "Yes Sir!" Andrew shouted eagerly, running down the field with huge strong strides. Coach Palmer cocked his arm back, marshalled all his strength and threw the football as high and as far as he could. He followed the flight of the ball as it arced through the air and had to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun in the west. He finally saw Andrew catch the football at the opposite end zone and he realized at that moment that none of the videos he had seen of Andrew's performance on the football field had been exaggerated. ================================================================================================================================================= Meanwhile, in a hotel room in Harrisonburg, Virginia, off Interstate 81, a strikingly handsome jock with jet black hair and piercing green eyes stood up from the couch by the window and grinned. Perfect, Ryan Maloney thought to himself. I'll be able to learn from my new friend Andrew Pearson how to get really huge and strong. With any luck, he'll pick my school over Ohio State and then we can be right beside each other on the Offensive Line. Ryan frowned as he suddenly realized something. Once I get big enough that the coach lets me play, of course. But then he grinned again when he realized that he had found the perfect reason to give Andrew for why he wanted to get bigger and stronger. He'll never know that I just want to get big enough that my little dweeb brother can never get close to beating me in anything ever again! "Who were you talking to out here Ryan?" Luke asked, stepping out of the washroom after his shower. "One of my brother's friends man," Ryan replied, turning to face his smaller friend with a smug grin on his face. "Is he a dorky band geek like your brother?" Luke asked with a sneer. "No man, in fact he's big enough to make you look like a runt," Ryan replied with a slight glare. He maximized the YouTube Video he had been watching of Andrew before Coach Palmer had texted him. "See for yourself man; keep an eye on number 3: Andrew Pearson," he said, as he sat back down on the couch. Luke and Ryan watched the highlight video of the 2004 Provincial Championship game between Andrew's team, the ODCVI Blues from Orillia, and the Eastview Wildcats from Barrie. "Wow man!" Luke shouted in astonishment once the video had ended. "You've got to convince your coach at Tech to get Andrew down there for an Unofficial Recruiting Visit this summer." "Already done man, after Tyler told me all about him," Ryan said with a cocky smirk. "And guess who gets to host him for his visit!" "You mean, you're going to be the host?" Luke asked him in surprise. "Of course man, who else?" Ryan scoffed. "Who better to host an incoming freshman than a current freshman?" He left out the part where his Tech coach had reminded him that all Redshirt Freshmen had to act as student hosts for incoming freshman prospects. "Once I showed this video to Coach, he told me to call my high school coach and set up a phone call with Andrew. And thanks to Coach Palmer calling Coach Graves, who called my dad, JP ended up bringing Andrew over to Central High School this evening. Once he got Andrew alone, Coach Palmer texted me and I called him and got to speak to Andrew. He's a really great football player, as you could see from the highlight videos." "Hey maybe you and Andrew can become teammates on the Offensive Line next fall and win a college football championship," Luke suggested. "Yeah, and maybe Andrew can show me how to get as huge and ripped as he is!" Ryan shouted in excitement, flexing his massive biceps. "Then I can leave that little dweeb brother of mine in the dust once and for all!" "That would be awesome man!" Luke shouted in excitement. "Then when you go home for Christmas you can give that brother of yours the worst present he's ever had!" "Yeah, the present of my awesome presence!" Ryan shouted, proving that Andrew wasn't the only smart guy in the state. "How will you convince Andrew to help you get bigger without revealing the real reason?" Luke suddenly asked. "Easy, I'll just tell him the truth: my coach at Tech won't let me play until I'm a lot bigger and stronger," Ryan said smugly. "Andrew will never realize that I just want to get huge to dominate my little brother so completely that he'll shrivel up and rot just like a little raisin!" "Sounds like you've got it all figured out," Luke realized. "So, enough talk; you want to head out and see what kind of summer parties JMU has to offer?" "Sure man, and maybe I can find a hot chick who wants a piece of me," Ryan sneered with a suggestive smirk. "I'll keep my cell on vibrate so that when Andrew texts me, I can get back here and see him on Skype." "You want me to come back with you?" Luke asked, as they headed out the door. "Naw man, I want to see him alone," Ryan replied. "If he sees two of us, he might think something's up when I ask him if he'll help me get bigger like him." Luke nodded in agreement as they headed down the hall. Ryan breathed a silent sigh of relief, relieved that Luke hadn't figured out the true reason that Ryan wanted to speak to Andrew alone: so that no one could horn in on the new friendship that he was hoping to form with JP's new mentor. ================================================================================================================================================= Andrew had been showing off his football skills for ten minutes, so neither he nor Coach Palmer noticed JP coming out of the high school gym. Andrew threw his football from the far end of the field to Coach Palmer, but he threw it too far and it hit JP in the chest before he could catch it. "Are you okay JP?" Palmer asked as JP fell onto his back. But then he grinned as JP rolled through the fall and back to his feet. "I guess you are okay," he realized, noticing the cocky smirk on JP's face. "Sure I am Coach; it will take a lot more than a 120 yard pass to hurt me," JP assured him; relieved that his high pain tolerance had allowed him to withstand the impact of the football. "That's the furthest I've ever seen anyone throw a football though; even Clark Kent on Smallville last season restricted himself to 60 yard passes!" "Andrew outweighs Clark by at least 80 pounds of solid muscle," Palmer said, grinning at JP's huge friend as he jogged shirtless across the field towards them. His jaw dropped in astonishment as Andrew stopped in front of him and he could only stare in awe at the sweat glistening on the body of the hulking muscle god in front of him. "Uh, very good job Andrew: your football skills are very impressive," he managed to stammer out. He turned to JP, whose eyes were as wide as his own and asked, "What did you think of Andrew's performance on the field tonight?" "It was amazing Coach; I can see why you wanted to see him tonight," JP realized. He noticed the digital camera in Palmer's hands and added, "It looks like you got a lot of good footage of Andrew's football skills. Which school are you going to send it to?" Coach Palmer and Andrew looked at each other uncertainly, unsure how to answer JP's question without making him mad. "Are you going to tell him Coach, or should I?" Andrew finally asked Coach Palmer. "Tell me what?" JP snapped, guessing that there could only be one reason why they so reluctant to name the school. "It's Virginia Tech JP," Coach Palmer replied, gambling that his position as Head Football Coach would keep him safe from JP's wrath. He was right, because all JP did was narrow his eyes slightly in anger. "I'll let Andrew tell you all about it; I've got everything I need," he added, holding up his digital camera. "See you later JP and nice meeting you Andrew." With that, Coach Palmer beat a hasty retreat into the high school, leaving Andrew alone to face JP. Andrew looked over cautiously at JP, who was glaring at him with a look of fury on his face. "Go ahead JP; let me have it for talking to your brother and then I can explain how it happened," Andrew sighed. "I ought to punch you in the face for even talking to Ryan, knowing how much I hate him!" JP snapped. "Fine, do it if you think it 'll make you feel better!" Andrew snapped back. "It won't make any difference to me; I probably won't feel it anyway!" JP roared in fury and lunged at Andrew, his right fist leading the way. SMACK! JP punched Andrew in the face with all his strength. To make his smaller friend feel better, Andrew let his head snap around from the blow, even though he didn't feel a thing. Encouraged by thinking that he had actually hurt Andrew, JP kept punching Andrew in the face, making his big friend's head rock back and forth. Andrew didn't even stumble or flinch though, and eventually JP got tired. He stopped punching Andrew in the face and settled for kneeing him in the gut instead. Soon JP's hands began to ache from punching Andrew's tough jaw and his knees felt like they had impacted a concrete wall. JP ignored the pain for a couple more minutes and kept hitting Andrew in the abs until he finally tired out and he was no longer mad. "Feel better now JP?" Andrew asked, breathing a sigh of relief that JP had stopped attacking him. Hopefully he got some of the rage at his brother out of his system by attacking me! "You look tired." "Yeah I am Andrew," JP replied, smiling when he noticed Andrew rubbing his chin with one hand and his abs with the other. As he tried to catch his breath, he added, "I'm glad I was able to hurt you a bit; that means that I'll be able to wipe the floor with Ryan the next time I see him!" "Good JP, can we go now?" Andrew asked him impatiently. "Or did you want to throw my football around for a while on an actual football field?" "That would be great Andrew," JP said excitedly. "You always know what to say to make me feel better." "And apparently I know what to do as well, since letting you punch me several times calmed you down," Andrew realized with a gentle smile. "What do you mean by 'letting' me?" JP asked him in surprise. "I mean that I could have caught all your punches if I had wanted to," Andrew replied, crossing his massive arms with a smug grin. Then he noticed JP frowning, so he decided to cheer him up. "But I figured that it would make you feel better if I acted as your human punching bag. Anytime you want to let out your frustrations by doing it again, just let me know man. Or don't; it won't matter to me because I barely felt anything anyway." "Thanks a lot Andrew; now you've made me feel worse!" JP snapped at him. "Sorry about that man, but you punched me, not the other way around," Andrew reminded him with a cocky grin. "But you don't hear me complaining about it!" "That's because you just admitted that I barely hurt you!" JP snapped in fury. "That's because I'm almost twice your size JP," Andrew reminded him. When JP glared at him, Andrew sighed and added, "But if it makes you feel any better, you did hurt me a little bit." "Not enough Andrew!" JP yelled in fury. "How am I supposed to take Ryan down if I can't even make you wince when I punch you?" "I outweigh Ryan by almost a hundred pounds," Andrew reminded him, having to clench his fists to keep from snapping back at JP. JP grinned: suddenly feeling better and Andrew grinned back at him. "Now can I tell you how I ended up talking with Ryan over the phone?" "Yes Andrew," JP replied, suddenly realizing how lucky he was that he hadn't made his huge friend mad. Andrew told him the whole story and concluded by telling JP that he would show Ryan just how big he was on Skype later that night. Then he and JP finally got to throw the football around on the field for about an hour. Andrew showed JP some of the football drills he went through as an Offensive Lineman at ODCVI. JP smiled to himself, really happy that Andrew was playing football with him: something Ryan had never done. Once they were done, it was 10 pm and getting dark. The lights around the field came on and Andrew had an idea. He stood under the uprights near his car and said, "So this is what the Friday Night Lights look like." "It's Tuesday night Andrew," JP teased him with a smirk. "Funny man JP; it was a figure of speech and you know it!" Andrew laughed. "Speaking of figures, you certainly make an imposing one with the lights behind you," JP suddenly realized, a trace of fear showing up on his face. "Then take a picture of me with my game face on," Andrew ordered him, getting down into his three point stance with one hand holding his football. Andrew glared up at the camera as if he was about to take down his opponent and JP quickly took the picture, feeling very afraid of his huge friend at that moment. "Okay Andrew, how about we try one with you smiling?" JP suggested, trying unsuccessfully to keep the fear out of his voice. "Sorry about that JP; I didn't mean to scare you," Andrew apologized. He grinned up at JP, who took another picture, and then stood up to his full height of six feet and seven inches. "There now JP: we've played football, taken some pictures, met your wrestling coach and you've used me as a human punching bag. Are you ready to go home now?" "Yeah Andrew, and I'm really excited about tomorrow's recruiting visit to Ohio State," JP said with a big grin on his face. "The Ohio State JP," Andrew teased him, finally putting his t-shirt back on. He noticed JP mock-glaring at him and laughed. "Don't look at me like that man; you're the one who corrected me about that earlier today!" "You're right Andrew," JP realized, as they headed to Andrew's truck with their Varsity Jackets slung over their shoulders. As they reached Andrew's truck, he asked, "So what are you going to do when you get back to your hotel with Carrie and Mike?" "I'm going to call Ryan on-" Andrew began, before having to catch JP's fist in mid-punch. "Don't try that again JP: you've hit me enough for one night," Andrew growled in fury. He gave JP's fist a slight squeeze until JP winced in pain. "Do you get the point now man? I can catch your punches anytime I want to!" "Yes Andrew, I've got it!" JP gasped in pain. "Can you let me go now?" "Sure man; I've made my point," Andrew replied, releasing his iron grip on JP's fist. JP massaged his sore hand and Andrew said, "Why do you insist on asking questions that you don't want to hear the answer to?" "I don't know Andrew," JP replied, as they got into Andrew's truck. "I guess I'm just too curious for my own good." "Yeah, you seem to have forgotten that cautionary tale about the cat who was too curious," Andrew realized. "Don't even joke about that Andrew!" JP begged him. Andrew looked over and a look of concern came over his face when he saw how scared JP looked. "Aroused, your great physical strength could kill! And I only felt a tiny sample of it when you squeezed my fist!" "I'm sorry about that man, but you made me mad for a moment there," Andrew informed him. "I was in a really bad mood all last fall and the results weren't pretty." "Why was that Andrew?" JP asked, as Andrew started driving them back to JP's house. "My grandpa had a stroke last fall, just after I graduated Basic Reserves Training," Andrew replied. "I was really worried about him during football season, since he was confined to a wheelchair and could barely speak. Fortunately, my parents were able to bring him to every game, but then my nemesis David Harrington insulted him and I just lost it and punched him in the face, giving him a bloody nose. The next punch knocked him out. If Steve, Darrel and Mike hadn't pulled me away, I would have killed him with my bare hands!" JP just stared at Andrew in speechless terror as his big friend's face turned red with fury and his hands turned white on the steering wheel. Andrew looked over at JP, still furious from the bad memories, and saw the look of terror on his face. He started taking a few deep breaths to calm down and was relieved to see the normal look of confidence return to JP's face. JP wisely decided to wait until Andrew had calmed down completely before he asked, "What happened next Andrew?" "Coach Everson suspended me for two games and my parents chewed me out hard when we got back home," Andrew remembered, looking embarrassed. "I actually stayed in a hotel that weekend, not wanting to deal with anyone. Then when I got home from school on Monday evening, my dad informed me that my Grandpa (his dad, not my mom's) had suffered another massive stroke and was now confined to a hospital bed. I could see in his eyes that my dad blamed me for that, since Grandpa Pearson had attended the game where I took David out for insulting him. I felt really bad and I visited Grandpa every weekend after that, now that I had seen the damage my bad temper had caused." "It wasn't your fault Andrew," JP tried to assure his big friend. "It was probably just a coincidence that your grandpa had another stroke around the same time that you were punching David." "That's not true JP; he had the stroke at the game right after I attacked David!" Andrew shouted in frustration. "My rage stressed him out so badly that it caused his second stroke and put him in that hospital bed!" JP just stared at his big friend in sympathy, not having a clue what to say when he realized what an incredible burden of guilt Andrew had been carrying around for almost a year. Andrew sighed as a tear ran down his cheek and he and JP just drove in silence for a few minutes while he tried to compose himself. "What happened next Andrew?" JP asked his huge friend gently. "Coach Everson let me play in the Semi-Final and then the Provincial Championship Game," Andrew replied. "Unfortunately, the O-Line had learned some new plays under the back-up Center that I wasn't familiar with and we lost the Provincial Championship Game in the last second due to a missed field goal because David deflected it. I managed to control my temper about that but I broke down in my grandpa's hospital room as I told him a day later. He couldn't say a word, but he did reach over with his one good arm to grab my hand. I promised him that I would win the next Provincial Championship for him and he smiled. Then he fell asleep and I went home. We got the news the next morning that he had passed away during the night." "So you were the last person to see him and he went to heaven happy," JP guessed. "Yeah man," Andrew said with a gentle smile. "And now you know everything about last season and why I'm not really a cocky jock anymore." JP nodded in understanding. "You're the only one who knows everything I've told you, besides Carrie of course, and I want it to stay that way." JP nodded in understanding, realizing how much Andrew thought of him that he would reveal his innermost secrets. "Do you have anything else to tell me Andrew, or is that it?" JP asked. "That's it JP," Andrew replied, glancing over at his friend with a gentle smile. "I think we're even now, since you told me everything about you and Ryan earlier this evening." JP tried to keep the anger he felt at hearing the name of his big brother from showing on his face, because he remembered how easily Andrew had shut down his attempt to punch him earlier. I'd better be on my best behavior with Andrew; he could crush me with one hand tied behind his back! JP realized in sudden fear. Then he thought of something that made him smile. "Getting excited about the trip to the Ohio State tomorrow JP?" Andrew asked him. "Yeah Andrew," JP replied, not letting his huge friend know that he was actually thinking of how scared Ryan would be when he saw how big Andrew was. "I'm really grateful that you're taking me to see the school I hope to wrestle at in my college years." "No problem JP; Mark did it for me, so I'm returning the favour in a deflected manner," Andrew informed him. When JP looked at him with confusion, Andrew explained that his first protégé Mark Stevenson had invited Andrew along on his Official Recruiting Visits during the previous football season. "So in a way, Ohio State is already aware of me, because I went there with Mark on his Official Recruiting Visit almost one year ago," Andrew explained to JP. "Did you mentor him just so you could get early exposure to the NCAA?" JP teased him. Andrew glared over at him in mock fury, but a slight grin betrayed his true feelings. "Just joking Big Guy." "Hey, I told you before, you call me 'Huge Guy' JP!" Andrew roared, unable to keep a cocky grin from appearing on his face. JP laughed and the two of them continued joking around until they got back to JP's house. Once they got to JP's house, they parked in the driveway and Andrew turned to JP. "Thanks a lot for listening to everything I told you about last season without judgement JP," Andrew said gratefully. "You're a great friend." "Thanks Andrew; you are too," JP said, as his parents came out of the house. As he and Andrew got out of Andrew's truck, he said, "Coach Graves got in touch with all the wrestling coaches at each school we're going to, so I'll be having my own early Unofficial Recruiting Visits while you have yours." "Good job man; taking a page out of my book I see," Andrew said with a smug grin. He turned to his friends, who had come out of the house after JP's parents and asked them, "Did you guys have lots of fun with Matt and JP's parents while we were gone?" "Yeah man," Mike replied. "JP's parents were bragging about him while he was gone, showing us his wrestling photos, newspaper articles, trophies and his District Finalist Medal from last season." "I hope we can see a State Championship Medal from you next season JP," Mr. Maloney said with a frown. "You will Dad," JP assured him, trying to make his determination show on his face. "But in the meantime, I will have to show off my District Finalist Medal to the Ohio State Wrestling Coaches tomorrow." "Yeah, when I called Coach Graves and told him which schools Andrew was taking you to, he said that he would get in touch with the wrestling coaches at those schools," Mr. Maloney said proudly. "Yeah he showed me all the emails from them, in which they expressed their hope that I would talk to them while I'm on campus this week," JP said with a cocky smirk. "So I told Coach to say 'Yes, he'll be glad to meet you there' and he added my cell phone number to the email replies. Then the coaches can text me with the details." "And all this wouldn't have happened if Andrew hadn't offered to take you with him on his recruiting visits," Mrs. Maloney said, reaching up to put a hand on Andrew's massive shoulder. Andrew looked very embarrassed as JP's parents ushered Andrew inside to talk to him some more. "Where's your mom Matt?" JP asked, finally noticing that she was missing from the group. "She already went home, after leaving a packed suitcase here for me," Matt replied. "What did you and Andrew do at the high school?" JP ushered him into the house so that they could talk, leaving Mike and Carrie standing outside on the front walk. "Do you feel that we've been forgotten by Andrew over the last couple of days?" Mike asked Carrie. "No more than the past three years when Andrew spent a lot of time mentoring his current teammates," Carrie reminded him. "He didn't have to mentor you of course; your big brother Matt did a lot of that, as well as training Andrew for football before high school." "Yeah, Matt's mentoring of me and Andrew got us ready for high school football so that we played on the Varsity Team even during our Freshman Year," Mike remembered. "Of course, Coach Everson had Andrew be the back-up to Carl, the Centre, that year. Then Carl left for Miami and Andrew took over at Centre in Grade Ten." "Good thing too, because the college recruiting started just last year: Andrew's second season as Centre," Carrie reminded him. Mike grinned and nodded, and Carrie added, "I'm a little surprised that no college coaches have recruited me for Girl's Hockey yet." "Ask to meet the Girl's Hockey coaches at each school we visit and you'll find lots of recruiters visiting you this fall," Mike predicted. Carrie grinned at Mike: pleased that for all his big muscles, he hadn't lost any of the intelligence that had let him tutor Andrew and Phil in exchange for weight training years ago. Carrie and Mike chatted outside for a few more minutes and then went into the Maloney house, where they found almost everyone talking in the living room. As Carrie looked around, she noticed that Andrew and JP were not there. "Where are Andrew and JP?" she asked Mr. Maloney. "JP took Andrew up to his room to show off all his wrestling newspaper stories and trophies," Paul replied proudly. Carrie nodded in understanding: pleased that Andrew had found another protégé after not having one the previous year. Up in his bedroom, JP was proudly showing Andrew all the newspaper clippings and trophies from his high school wrestling career. "This is very impressive JP; you have really achieved great athletic success in only two years," Andrew congratulated him. "And you're a District Finalist as well." "Probably nothing compared to what you've achieved Andrew; you actually won the District Title." "Yeah, but this coming wrestling season, you'll win the State Title JP," Andrew predicted with an encouraging smile. JP smiled as Andrew had once again made him feel better. "What did you want to do now Andrew?" "Help you pack for the college road trip that starts next week, but perhaps I should see Ryan's room first." "What for Andrew?" JP asked with an angry look on his face. "I want an objective view of the kind of guy he is," Andrew replied. "A look in his room is the best glance I will get at his character since he probably decorated it himself." "Fine, let's get it over with so that we can plan our trip," JP agreed reluctantly. He led Andrew to Ryan's room and opened the door, revealing all the posters of scantily-clad women all over the walls. "Well, that certainly reveals Ryan's true character with one look," Andrew realized. "On my walls at home, I have football players banging heads on the field." "So now you see how different you and Ryan are, which explains why I think of you as my big brother instead of him," JP explained, closing Ryan's door again. Andrew nodded and followed JP back to his room to help him pack for the road trip. About an hour later, Andrew and his two friends said goodbye to JP and his family and headed back to their hotel. Once there, Andrew told Carrie that he wanted to talk to JP's brother on Skype. "Okay Andrew, I'll just go have a shower before bed," Carrie said. "Have fun talking to your new friend." Andrew had told her all about his talk with Ryan earlier that evening. "I will Carrie, and I'm going to wear my ODCVI football t-shirt so that he can see just how big and strong I am," Andrew said with a smirk. "Fine, have fun playing 'Who's the Alpha' with Ryan," Carrie laughed. "See you later Big Man," "That's 'Huge Man' to you 'Little Girl'," Andrew teased her with a mock glare. Carrie laughed and headed into the bathroom to have her shower. Andrew pulled out his Motorola Razor and texted Ryan. Then he activated Skype and waited. ================================================================================================================================================= Meanwhile, at a club in Harrisonburg, Virginia, Ryan's cell phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket with a frown. "Sorry babe, I've been expecting this text," he apologized to the hot girl he was in the middle of kissing. He read the text and grinned when he realized that Andrew was ready to start their Skype Chat. "I'm going to talk to my new friend, and he'll show me how to get even bigger and stronger for you next time," he promised her emptily. Ryan stepped back and quickly found Luke so that he could tell him where he was going. Then he headed out of the club, after promising to pick Luke up later, and drove back to their hotel to talk to Andrew. Perfect, Ryan thought to himself as he drove. Andrew will teach me how to become really big and strong so that I can give the girls more pleasure than they've ever dreamed of! And I'll be big enough to smash that dweeb brother of mine into pieces, as well as all opposing players in the games this season! Ryan was still grinning about his foolproof strategy to get Andrew's help when he pulled into the hotel parking lot. He stepped out of his car, put on his best arrogant jock face, and sauntered into the lobby, grinning like a cat at all the pretty girls he passed by. But this time, he didn't talk to any of them, he was too eager to see his new friend Andrew face-to-face. Once he got up to his hotel room, he went inside, opened up his laptop and activated Skype. As the image on the screen resolved into focus, Ryan's jaw dropped as he saw what was on the screen. ================================================================================================================================================ Andrew smirked as he saw the look of shock on the face of the black-haired, green-eyed jock on his laptop screen. "Ryan Maloney?" Andrew asked, just to make sure he was talking to the right person. The big guy on the screen nodded silently; still too shocked to speak. "I'm JP's new friend Andrew Pearson." He waited for almost a minute before Ryan got up his nerve to finally say something. "How are you man?" "Oh just fine; I had lots of fun on the Central High football field showing off my football skills for Coach Palmer," Andrew said with a cocky smirk. Part of him realized he probably shouldn't act so cocky, but then he realized that he had finally found someone who would approve of him acting like an arrogant jock. "I threw a pass that went the entire length of the field and knocked JP off his feet when he tried to catch it!" Ryan's look of shock intensified and then a fleeting look of concern appeared on his face. It was quickly erased by an arrogant smirk, however. "Did that little dweeb run home and cry to Mommy about it?" he sneered. "Be careful Ryan; that's my new protégé you're talking about," Andrew warned him, his protective instincts flaring up. "And he told me how he was once yours." "Yeah he was," Ryan said, remembering his last workout with JP less than fondly. "Sorry about that Andrew; my brother and I just don't get along anymore." "Did you want to talk about it Ryan?" Andrew asked. "It won't go any further than the two of us, since my girlfriend isn't in here with me." "Okay Andrew, and then we can talk about more exciting things: like your upcoming recruiting visit to Virginia Tech," Ryan agreed. "And I will email you the video that Coach Palmer emailed me of my exploits on the Central High School football field," Andrew offered. "Then you can forward it to your football coach at Tech." "Good thinking Andrew," Ryan agreed. He began telling Andrew about how his little brother JP had followed him around everywhere all his life and then started bugging him about working out when he got to high school. So Ryan began teaching him how to work out, but he never imagined JP would take to it so well and get close to surpassing him. So Ryan gradually removed himself from his brother's workouts, especially after the events of three months before, and their relationship was practically non-existent since then. "That sounds rough man," Andrew said sympathetically, realizing that JP felt the same way. "I went through something similar with one of my good friends about seven years ago." "Tell me about it Andrew; I can listen while I watch the video you sent me," Ryan said, opening up the email attachment. So Andrew told Ryan all about his failed friendship with Steve, basically repeating word-for-word the same things he had told JP the night before. Like JP before him, Ryan was amazed at how similar his experiences were to Andrew's. "So what do you think Ryan?" Andrew asked, once he had finished telling Ryan everything. "That's an amazing story Andrew, and I can see that we have a lot more in common than just being great football players," Ryan replied sincerely. All thoughts of acting like an arrogant jock in front of Andrew were gone, and he felt that he could finally be himself with his new friend, which was a great relief for him. "Your video is amazing as well, and my coach at Tech will be really excited to see it." "More excited than you are Ryan?" Andrew teased him, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah man," Ryan replied with a big grin. "But I'm excited to meet you in person as well, and I'll talk to Coach and get an Unofficial Recruiting Visit set up for you at Tech later this summer." "Thanks man," Andrew said gratefully, sensing that their conversation was wrapping up. "Well, I look forward to it, but right now, I'm going to have a shower and go to bed. Do you want me to say hi to JP for you when I see him again tomorrow morning?" "No Andrew, I will when I see him again," Ryan replied seriously. "And do me a favour." "What's that Ryan?" Andrew asked him. "Don't talk about my brother anymore with me unless I ask you about him," Ryan said. "No problem Ryan," Andrew agreed. "Text me later if you want to have another Skype chat." "I will man; just email me your travel plans so I know where you'll be tomorrow night," Ryan said. "Sure thing man; talk to you later," Andrew said, preparing to sign off. "See you Andrew," Ryan said, just before he ended the conversation. Andrew sat back in his desk chair and stared at the blank screen for a moment: thinking hard. Hopefully one day I'll be there when Ryan and JP have fixed their relationship and then I won't have to choose which one to be friends with, he thought to himself. Then he heard Carrie calling him from the bathroom. "Andrew, I'm ready to have another shower: this time with you!" Andrew grinned, stood up, and headed into the bathroom, looking forward to having lots of fun with his girlfriend before they went to bed. * FINALLY FINISHED * COMING SOON: - The Road Trip to Ohio State - The Ohio State Recruiting Visit itself - JP gets a head start on his own college recruiting process thanks to Andrew My website page for this chapter: http://seanspictures.webs.com has a picture from Google of what I imagine Ryan would look like. Just click on the link for Chapter 5 and go halfway down to see it.
  4. This is the first of a two part story. I had written this back in October as a story to amuse myself. I never thought I would put it out there for the world to read... but since you have all have welcomed my other stories so kindly... here it is!!! I rewrote some of it to give it better flow, etc. The second part is a little crazier... involving more transformation, muscle, destruction, etc. If you aren't into that... let this part be what you read and that is it. This has an ending. If you are into stuff a little wilder... I'll post Part 2 soon!! I hope you enjoy it!!!! Comments and suggestions always welcome!! Tell Me You’re Mine PART ONE I watched as Richard tried once again to fight against the ties that bound him to the leather/wooden cross. I couldn’t deny that he looked hot naked, handcuffed, and with a ball gag in his mouth. No, I scolded myself!! Don’t look at him. Don’t think about him. He’s a means to an end and that is all!!! I leaned once again over the smoke coming from the silver bowl and inhaled... the sharp odour calming my nerves. Soon this would all be over. Soon I would have what I desired. This wasn’t how it originally started. I had gotten home from the gym, horny as fuck with the knowledge that tonight was the night I had been waiting and preparing for for years. I hopped on the hook-up app I often used for quick fucks, hoping he would be on... and I wasn’t disappointed. There he was... Richard from the gym... built, young, cocky, and obviously out for NSA fun. It had been a while since I had seen him at the gym, but perhaps that had been for the best. My pic on my profile was recent, but the lighting might have made me look a little buffer and a little younger then I really was. As I began sending a message to Richard, three guys hit me up at once. Quickly looking at their profiles… one of them was passable and might be an option... but no... only Richard would do. I sent my message and waited to hear back. It wasn’t long before he had taken the bait. I was older then Richard by about ten years, but my picture shows me at my best: an athletic man with black hair and ice blue eyes. Our initial conversation went well, so I decided to simply go for it and asked him if he wanted to play. Sending my location, Richard was glad to know my home was only six blocks away from his own... a fact I already knew. Yeah, this had all the makings of a perfect quick hook-up for him... we could each get off and he would have plenty of time to meet-up with some friends. When I showed him my dick pic... that sealed the deal. He would be over in ten. When Richard arrived, he commented on the slight silver at my temples and stated that it was a sexy addition, and one he approved off. I took his coat, offered him a glass of very fine red wine, and then we began kissing on the couch. Now, my body is not as muscular as Richard’s, and I’m not as tall as he is, but I do have a tight runners build that was obvious, by the bulge in his pants, that he respected. Also, once we had stripped out of our clothes and were naked, I was able to prove, to his eager mouth, that I truly was sporting an XL endowment. After nearly fifteen minutes of kissing... deep and passionately, Richard wanted to move it to the bedroom, but I let him know I had other plans. How adventurous was Richard feeling? Sure I could easily fuck him... but why not put a little handcuff play into the action... I could see the wheels in his head spinning behind his eyes. No, Richard, he was thinking. That’s how guys get killed… I hardly know this guy. But, the leaking of his cock was screaming: Yes!!!! This guy is totally normal!! His cock won out. Richard took a gulp of his wine, texted a friend where he was just in case he disappeared… always a smart move, and followed me down the hallway. The room, the prize of my house, was a large conservatory that I had converted into a personal library with shelves and shelves of hardback books, some intricately bound and other centuries old. They were the result of my decades of research, and I knew each one practically by heart. The ceiling is over thirty-five feet high, and the sun can easily be blocked out with shades that moved electronically. I knew he was impressed by the sheer size of the room, joking it was bigger then three of his apartments. What really took Richard’s attention were the tools of my play: masks, hoods, gags, handcuffs, dildos of all sizes, and a multitude of paddles and whips. The collection was lit by several dim pin lights, but my prize was what took centre stage: an imposingly large wooden cross padded with leather, raised up on its own circular platform. Nervous, but ultimately turned on as well, Richard took in the entire room in awe. His laughter echoing in the enormous room, he said he had never read 50 Shades of Grey... or seen the film... but he had heard of the ‘Red Room’ and imagined it had to be something like this. I told him I hoped mine was a little classier then Christian Grey’s. Quietly I came up behind him and began to gently kiss his neck, my arms wrapped around him, my hands stroking his abs. ⁃ I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m usually pretty vanilla. ⁃ We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable. ⁃ No! No... I want to. ⁃ Are you sure? I want everything to be totally consensual. Richard lowered my hand down to the his hard cock signalling the affirmation of his desires. I turned Richard around and pulled him toward me, our bodies pressing together while we passionately kissed. Within moments and with expert hands, I was exploring every inch of his body, traveling my tongue over every muscle. Richard’s cock began to leak pre-cum again as his excitement mounted. Lapping it up with my tongue, I succeeded in taking Richard’s entire cock in my mouth, deep throating him like a champ. Richard placed his hands on the back of my head and began to massage my scalp, tremors of ecstasy running through him. ⁃ Let me worship your body. It’s so beautiful, so built. I want to lick every inch of it. ⁃ Do it!! I looked into Richard’s eyes and pushed him toward the cross. Willingly, Richard allowed his arms to be placed on the cross bars, and he let out a low moan as I grabbed his hands and locked them swiftly and dominantly into the handcuffs. I did the same at his feet. Then, to make the picture complete, I covered his eyes with a leather mask. As promised, I worshiped, licked, and sucked every inch of Richard’s quivering and flexing body. My tongue traveled into crevices no tongue had ever reached, and Richard bucked his pelvis uncontrollably as an orgasm appeared on the horizon. I wrapped my mouth around Richard’s cock and brought him closer and closer to explosion. Seconds away from coming in my mouth, I pulled back and looked up at Richard. ⁃ You like that? ⁃ Yeah!!! ⁃ Want me to finish you off? ⁃ Oh yeah!!! ⁃ Tell me you’re mine. ⁃ What? ⁃ Tell me you’re mine. ⁃ Fuck!! I’m yours! Do it!!!! I attached myself to Richard’s cock again, and with my hand began to massage his balls. Unable to hold on much longer and entirely under my sway, Richard felt his balls rise up in his sack. ⁃ I’m gonna... I’m... I removed my mouth seconds before Richard shot and captured his release in a small silver bowl I had hidden near the base of the cross. Using my hand, I milked more and more cum from his balls until Richard cried out that he couldn’t take anymore. Beginning to already go soft, Richard’s masked face looked down at me and smiled. ⁃ Fuck, man!!! Richard chuckled as he shook his head. I stood up, took off the mask, looked at Richard, and kissed him once again. His cock started to get hard again, but playtime was over. Richard watched in silence as I walked to the side of the room and opened a cabinet. Inside was a large copper bowl. Removing it, I walked back over to Richard. Placing the bowl on the floor, I looked up at him with a grin and quickly bound Richard’s waist to the cross with thick rope that had been lying on the floor, hidden in the shadows. When that was complete, I removed a sponge from the bowl, and starting with Richard’s feet, began to wash him with the mixture of goat milk and other herbs I had prepared the night before. The mixture was warm to the touch and had a spicy smell emanating from it. ⁃ Damn that smells good. Very sexy. What are you doing, man? I looked up at him, his cock hard and throbbing, a grin on his face. ⁃ I’m cleansing you. ⁃ What? ⁃ Cleansing you. Preparing you. ⁃ For what? ⁃ For the ritual. You will be the soul I give in place of mine. Richard laughed, believing that I was joking, but when he looked in my eyes, he knew I was totally serious. He attempted to free himself as I began to wash him again, covering his softening penis with the sponge. ⁃ You’re fucking with me… right man? You’re totally fucking with me!!!! Silence. I began to wash Richard’s abs. Richard was attempting to loosen himself from his binds but found it was virtually impossible. Panicking, I could hear his heart racing in his chest. He tried to reason with me as I began to cover his pecs with the milky substance. ⁃ Please let me go man. ⁃ You gave yourself to me. ⁃ We were fucking around!! You know we were! I didn’t give you anything! ⁃ I asked and you responded. You even gave me your seed. You are mine. ⁃ HELP!!! SOMEONE!!! HELP!!! ⁃ No one can hear you. Believe me. But if you’re going to be difficult... I walked to the opposite wall and pulled a ball gag from its place. Upon my return, Richard attempted to move his head from side to side, but in my position now I was a little stronger and a lot faster. Eventually, Richard was gagged. Screaming over the ball was useless, and trying to move his head away from me proved futile as I concluded the cleansing by covering his neck and face with the milk. When he was completely covered, I took the bowl and poured the remaining over Richard’s head, cascading over his hair and dripping down his muscular body. Swiftly, knowing time was of the essence, I moved to another cabinet, removed red and black candles and began to place them strategically around the room. When that was completed and all 36 were lit, I returned to Richard with a pot of black paint and a paintbrush. With expert hand, I began to use Richard’s body as a canvas, covering it with intricate symbols that only a very few could read. These were runes forged at the beginning of time, instructions of how to carry out my desires. Richard tried to cry out again, but I found he was becoming weaker over time with fear. It took nearly thirty minutes, but with my expert hand, the job was complete and Richard’s entire body was covered in markings. I moved away and stared at my work admiringly. For so long I had prepared for this... for years... and now it would actually be happening. I left the room for a moment and returned with a large brass bowl filed with kindling. Placing this down in front of Richard, I struck a match and lit it. From a shelf on one of the bookcases, I returned with both a silver bowl and a silver knife. Walking up to Richard, I began to chant the invocation under my breath while moving the knife in elaborately choreographed movements. Trailing the knife in patterns on his chest, Richard barely felt the moment when I cut him just below his left pec. As the blood flowed, I captured it in the silver bowl. It was by no means a mortal wound nor one that might leave a scar. Even if it had been mortal, in a few minutes it wouldn’t matter to Richard. Nothing would matter to Richard. As the blood continued to drip, I captured some on my hand. With this, I began to stroke Richard’s penis again. Despite being in total fear for his life, Richard’s cock was hard once again. Stroking him faster and faster until he came a second time, I allowed his ejaculation to merge with his blood in the silver bowl. From the first bowl, the bowl with his first ejaculation, I used his semen to pain the last symbol, the one that would let Astaroth know that Richard was mine. When finished, I poured the rest of the ejaculation into the other bowl and sat myself on the floor behind the open flames. Placing the silver bowl on top of the burning wood, I began the Invocation, calling the most powerful of all demons to me. The incense and herbs I threw into the silver bowl began to float on the air. My volume was raised as I became more and more frantic, wrapped up in the incantation I was weaving. I could feel the energy in the room changing; I could feel that he was here. He simply just needed to show himself. Finally, after waving the silver knife in different directions, I stood up, and raising the bowl over my head, I screamed the demon’s name. Over and over I called for him... ⁃ Astaroth!!! Astaroth... most powerful... even more powerful then his father, Lucifer! Astaroth… hear your servant!!! Astaroth... receive my gift... Astaroth… find me worthy!!! Astaroth!!! Fill me with your power!!!... Over and over again I repeated this chant until the room grew cold, there was a great wind, and the candles all blew out simultaneously. A moment passed... then two... when suddenly all of the candles were lit once again by some supernatural hand. I kneeled down on the floor and began the invocation once again with even more passion and fervour. He was close… so close… this was the furthest I had ever gotten before. A pillar of smoke began to rise from the silver bowl, growing thicker and thicker, filling up the room, until a long clawed hand shot out from within it. I watched in anticipation as a face made entirely of fire emerged from the smoke. On top of the demon’s head were thick ram horns the curled upward. Pulling its way out of the smoke, the creature emerged fully formed. The smell that came with the creature, a mixture of rotten eggs and death, made me feel both physically ill and excited at the same time. I had prepped for this moment... and now it was here. The concept that this was actually happening hit me again as Astaroth moved toward Richard. As it walked, it left behind burnt hoof prints in the stone floor. Still existing on two planes, the creature looked to be created from both flesh as well as the thick smoke that trailed behind it. Eventually, as it gained strength, it succeeded in fully crossing over into our realm. Once the flames that had covered its body disappeared, it’s skin looked horribly burnt, but the longer it remained in this world, the more like human flesh began to appear. It wasn’t tall... maybe 5’6, and walked on black hoofed feet. It’s legs were entirely covered in long jet black hair, but this didn’t hide the immense penis that erupted from its crotch. It’s chest was also covered in hair, but it was quite muscular, a tight firm body any man would have wanted. The only difference was that it had a human eyeball in place of each nipple. These eyes looked independently around the room, leaking tears of flame. It’s face... perhaps at one time had been human, but now most of the flesh had been burnt away revealing a skull that appeared more wolf or jackal then human. It’s eyes glowed blood red and were reptile-like. From its snout, sharp long fangs emerged, and instead of a tongue, a living snake. What remained of its hair was long and black, and traveled from its head down its back. Finally, it dragged behind it a powerful serpent tail that left a trail of ooze wherever it lay. Moving toward Richard it sniffed him before moving its claws over the patterns that I had drawn there. After taking the time to read what I had placed on Richard’s body, it turned to me and spoke. ⁃ Egnahcxe ni tseuqer uoy od tahw? The creatures voice was serpentine yet quite deep, with smoke emerging as it spoke. Expecting this, I held a large mirror high above my head. From within the glass, smoke began to blossom until it exploded outward repeating Astaroth’s words: ⁃ What do you request in exchange? ⁃ I want power. ⁃ Elaborate. ⁃ Make over my body. Sculpt it as mighty as can be. Form my sex into a colossal tower. Let me stand above the masses, forever young, forever virile, forever healthy, preaching our master’s name. In exchange, I give you my slave. ⁃ And he comes willingly? ⁃ He is mine... proclaimed so by his own words and deeds. It was his seed that called you. It moved up to Richard and smelled him again. Too frightened to move, Richard allowed the serpent tongue to travel over his face, down his neck, and over his pecs. It was obvious the demon was examining him... but would he accept him in trade? ⁃ Yes... it is writ that he is yours to exchange. Richard tried to cry out, to deny that he was mine, but the gag made it impossible. Astaroth looked from me to Richard. The gag, the rope, and the handcuffs were suddenly released, and he was free. Wasting no time, Richard tried to run for the door, but Astaroth was too fast. In a split second, he had leaped onto Richard’s back and brought him down to the floor. Richard screamed out as Astaroth opened its mouth and began to insert Richard’s head in. Like a vacuum, it swallowed his shoulders, then his chest, his torso, his legs, and finally his feet. Within moments, Richard was gone. Throughout time, history rewrote itself, and Richard ceased to ever have lived... ever have existed... remembered by only me. His soul was now hell bound, sent in exchange of mine. Once Richard had been ingested, Astaroth turned its head to look directly at me. ⁃ The deal has been made, and the payment received!! Young and virile you forever will remain. Tall and mighty your body shall become, and a monument to our master your sex will be. Smoke flowed out of the silver bowl and slowly began to swirl and wrap itself around my body. My heart began to beat faster as my fate lay before me. What would Astaroth make of my instructions. What was I to become? What I had written on Richard’s body... was that possible? Could a human grow so massive... so tall... so powerful? For a second I feared what I had written. This room I stood in... my sanctuary would be like a dollhouse. Was this what I wanted??? Oh yes, I thought with a grin!!!! Yes!!!!!! As the smoke wove around my body faster and faster, an unholy cry began to pierce my head. ⁃ Screams! I hear screams! ⁃ Yes!!! It is the energy of the thousands of souls preparing to power your body. My penis got hard thinking about the power I was soon to possess, the smoke swirling around every inch of my cock. The smoke began to pick up speed until it was like a storm wrapping itself around my body. Lightening burst from the smoke and began to strike my body over and over again. I embraced the power invading me. I had never felt anything so incredible. The sound of the smoke storm was now so loud that I could barely hear myself think. Above the storm, even louder, were the screams of thousands of tortured souls crying out from hell. ⁃ You are willing to accept what gift I give you? ⁃ Yes!!! Fill me with ultimate power!! Make me mighty!! ⁃ As you request, so I do!!! The storm sped up even faster, covering me in a shroud of pure darkness. Suddenly and without warning a smoke tentacle broke away from the source and shot itself into my face, forcing its way into my body. Following its lead, more and more of the smoke storm rocketed its way into every inch of me. I welcomed it, trying to digest it all. Eventually, I had swallowed the entire thing, and those souls had taken up residency within me. ⁃ Yes!!! I can feel them within me!! I feel them changing me... altering me... so much power!! I never expected so much power!!! ⁃ But a taste. Now I complete you!! Astaroth released a jet of fire from its mouth, and once again it wrapped itself around me, this time with even more force then before. I wanted to shield my eyes from the bright flames swirling around my body, but it was impossible to not watch. This was the power that would change my body... my world forever!!! ⁃ Yes!!!! Give me even more power then I can imagine!!! The flame shot up in the air and then down into my open mouth. I wanted to scream out in ecstasy as my whole being quaked as it filled with what the demon had gifted me. What felt like an eternity lasted a few minutes as what had entered took root. Suddenly I was afraid of what I felt... I was afraid yet turned on by my desires. ⁃ I... I can feel my humanity being stripped away... I’m.... no... no... I’m no longer human... am I? ⁃ No. ⁃ What am I becoming? ⁃ Exactly what you requested. The earth will soon quake beneath your feet. The world will shudder when it sees you. Never has there been a more beautiful... more monstrous creature then you. All I could hear in the room was my own breathing and the thousands of souls preparing to power my transformation. No longer was I human. I had been stripped of that by this creature, but did I care... perhaps for a moment but that was all. I was too eager for my conversion to start. I breathed several times in and out... The power was welling up inside of me, ripping through my body and altering every cell. Uncontrollable spasms hit my body over and over again as the power prepared me... burning through me. Unexpectedly, the creature released a jet of fire from its mouth once again, this one longer then the first, and again it shot directly into my mouth. Screaming out, the onslaught forced me to the ground. What was this creature doing to me?! So much power existed inside my body now… much more then I had asked for. I was unable to control my limbs as I flailed on the ground receiving more energy then a nuclear bomb!! When the smoke cleared, the room was illuminated only from the red glow coming from... yes... coming from my eyes!! My eyes no longer saw as a human saw... but what was I becoming? When I spoke next, my voice was filled with steel. ⁃ Fifty thousand souls are prepared to fuel my transformation... to make me power incarnate!!! Shakily, my body still spasming over and over from this onslaught, I rose to my feet and faced off with the creature. Sporadically, flames would erupt from my body and a howling emerged from my mouth when I opened it. I was intoxicated by what I felt. This had far surpassed what I had imagined it would be like... yet like every addict, I knew what I wanted and that Astaroth had more to give. On shaking legs, I approached it. ⁃ Be careful what you ask for. ⁃ I need it all!!!! ⁃ Then take it!!! The creature smiled, flexing its muscles for me. Yes. He was the well from which I had to drink. I had the power of fifty thousand of souls in me prepared to fuel my metamorphosis, but I needed more!! Falling to my knees in front of it, I took my hand and placed it on the creature’s mighty shaft. Stroking it, it quickly rose to a swollen 15”, flames dripping from the head. As I nervously licked the head, one drop touched my tongue... my brain exploded as I witnessed in one second all of the power Astaroth held. Needing more, I wrapped my mouth around the mighty head and began to suck it, taking as much of the shaft down my throat as I could. Minutes passed. Astaroth’s claws dug into the back of my head forcing me to take much more of its cock then I thought I ever could. I could feel my body quaking with power as I mined for more. I sucked and stroked the shaft demanding it give me what I deserved. Eventually, Astaroth began to grunt and groan, breathing heavily due to my expert mouth. ⁃ Turn back now, human... while you can!!! This warning only caused me to suck and stroke harder until finally the creature reached orgasm, and unloaded its powerful load inside of me. As he deposited it in my stomach, I felt like I was being electrocuted. I no longer could control my body as I convulsed from the onslaught of what was being bestowed upon me. I continued to suck on its shaft, determined to drain it all… until with one mighty blow it threw me off its cock and to the middle of the room. I tried to stand but couldn’t. I had ingested too much power and my body was unprepared to digest it all. My whole body was pulsating with life. My entire body began to shift, to throb.. my skin began to bubble. This tapped force was attempting to surge out of my body, seeping my pores, releasing flames when it ruptured. My entire being had overdosed on power and was being ravaged by it. I felt lightheaded and sick to my stomach at the same time. I put my head in my hands and felt my face and skull give way as it pressed and merged around my hands. Never had I felt anything like this onslaught of power, and it was it was getting more powerful by the second. As I tried to stand again, my entire being began to smoke as if I were burning from within. I could only chuckle at what I was going to become, and knowing it was about to happen at any moment made my 8” cock go hard. From the reflection of the glass on the ceiling, I could see my eyes were shining a bright blue now. Soon… I could feel the power rising up within me as if my whole body was about to cum. It was getting stronger and stronger. A sudden burst of laughter erupted from my throat as I realised my time as Darren was over and that a new creature was going to take my place. ⁃ I will be the mightiest creature to walk this Earth!!! I will take what is rightfully mine!!!! I will exist at the top of the food chain!!! Nothing... will ever... stop me... AGAIN!!!!!!! My whole body suddenly stopped fluctuating and tensed up, my back muscles beginning to cramp. It felt as if hundreds of hot nails were being hammered into my traps at once. I released a scream that bounced around the room and was echoed by the thousands of souls within me. As I screamed, I could feel my back beginning to swell with muscle. Larger and more defined it became, and still it continued to grow. My collarbone and scapula made gruesome cracking noises as they fractured and then expanded, growing wider… my arms moving further away from my body. The pain was agonising but welcome. This is exactly how I had wanted it. My body was being tortured to make me even more mighty. For what seemed like hours, but was only minutes, my shoulders extended, becoming wider then any door, and showed no sign of slowing its growth. As the bones continued to stretch longer and thicker, my shoulder muscles began to join in the development of my traps. I was determined to stand, but the orgasmic rush of growth proved too much for me, and I fell once again to my knees. ⁃ My shoulders... my delts getting so round and thick!!! My whole upper body stretching wider and wider... my upper back... so filled with muscle and strength... my traps getting so concentrated... my... ARGH!!!! My upper body surged even wider. There would be no way possible that I could ever walk through a normal door again, my shoulders were simply too wide. My traps were riding higher and rounder on my shoulders giving me the look of a bull that I had always longed for. With a sudden eruption, my lats began to swell, pushing my arms even further from from my body. I couldn’t believe how quickly my upper back, shoulders and traps had become mountainous, and far from the realm of human possibility. With all of this muscle, it was as if four bodybuilders had been fused together to create my upper back, and still I continued to bulge and grow. ⁃ More!!! My hunger is insatiable. Make me bigger!! Make this body a monument to your strength!!! I cried out in orgasmic lust as my neck began to swell into a Grecian column of muscle. I tried to feel it with my hands, but they were now too far away and too short to even reach my neck!! Moving my head with ever growing difficulty, I could feel that it was so dense and muscle bound that it must look more like a quad then a neck!! As my traps continued to rise up higher and higher and started to fuse with my neck, my lats continued to widen until, to my joy, my upper back resembled that of a immense morphed cobra head. The horrific sound of cracking filled the room even louder then before as my arms and hands began to lengthen. ⁃ Fuck!!! Look at these arms??!! They’re getting longer then my legs!!! How big am I gonna be??!! ⁃ Monstrous. The creature hadn’t spoken until now, but simply watched with glee as my body was racked with pain and the birth of what I was becoming. I looked up when it spoke in shock, awe, and desire. ⁃ Freakish. Never on Earth will there have been one to rival your size or mastery. ⁃ Yes!!!!!!! Grow me!!! Stretch me!!! Don’t stop!!! Ever!!! Hearing my plea, my legs and feet began to lengthen along with my arms and hands. Although still top heavy, I could finally stand! My legs were so long and wobbly that I must have resembled a newborn pony. Standing for the first time, I was shocked at how tall I was, yet even more surprised when my hands dragged on the floor. The ceilings in the refurbished conservatory were over 35 feet high, and here I was standing a little above what I estimated at ten feet. I couldn’t help but laugh as I took in my new view of the world. ⁃ Look at me... towering above you... towering above everything!! I continued to get taller, my inhumanly wide and muscular back began to resemble a flesh-like shell, it was so mountainous with peaks and valleys of muscle. The thickness of my neck and traps made it virtually impossible to turn my head, and I found I had to turn my whole body if I needed to look around. I was being hit by the impracticalities of my new size, but I didn’t care. I revelled in them and I wanted more. I ceased to care about a normal life and wanted to exist purely as a creature of brute strength and muscle. I lifted my growing hand and marvelled at the sheer size of it. Each finger was much longer then my own head and thicker then three or four of my old fingers put together. My palm... fuck... that is where I gaped at the size... the palm of my hand was growing to become nearly as large as my own chest!!! As I continued hurling into my metamorphosis, I could feel this energy burning up inside of me. ⁃ The screaming in my head is getting louder... all of this dark energy erupting inside of me... fuelling me!!!! My torso soon joined in with my arms and legs, and loudly begun to elongate. The snapping and pulling of my body was soon so excruciating that my own screams merged with the moans of the souls erupting from me to create a symphony of terror. As my body developed taller and longer, I laughed through my pain thinking that I must resemble the urban legend of Slenderman made flesh. As the ground fell further away and the ceiling came closer, I tried to rationalise how tall I was becoming. Was I nearly fifteen feet tall now? The more my torso stretched, the quicker my arms and hands, legs and feet finally began to look in proportion to my body... but my own body was so out of proportion to every human on earth!!! Stumbling, I moved around the room on my stick legs, my enormous feet rocking the very foundation of my house. I’ll never be able to get out of this room without tearing the whole thing apart, I thought with excitement. How tall am I now?! The ceiling is getting so much closer!! I reached up my arm and found that I it wasn’t as far away as I thought it was!! Soon I would be able to easily touch it with the tips of my finger!!! Fuck!!! The ceiling that was too tall for a ladder, and soon I would touch it with my own hand... and still I grew. Contemplating how much larger I was to become, I felt an itching beginning to rise in both of my pecs. The itching became an irritation, and then the irritation became stabbing bolts of pain. I screamed out, a sound the whole neighbourhood must have heard as my pecs began to explode with size. Like two massive inflatable rafts attaching themselves to my body, my pectorals simply blossomed, quickly getting firmer and rounder. The sensation of feeling my blood engorged muscles grow made my head spin. Looking down as much as my neck would allow, I saw these massive globes coming to life, taking over the top half of my chest. I rubbed my hand over the right one, and nearly collapsed as my hand brushed over my nipple. My nipples had never been sensitive before, and I never understood nipple play, but now... fuck!!! Now I could!! With each beat of my heart, my pecs swelled larger and larger. Using both of my hands, I grabbed my nipples and I squeezed them. Colours formed in front of my eyes and my head spun with ecstasy. I squeezed them again and twisted them at the same time, releasing a low moan from my throat. They were the most sensitive things I had ever felt. As if they were trying to enrapture me to play with them more, they both suddenly began to get larger and thicker, the areola getting wider and browner, and the nipple bursting with size until they both were nearly the length of a human finger. My pecs, fuelled by my intense nipple play grew even mightier, extending feet from my chest. The sensation of feeling my blood engorged pecs grow fuller made me want to roar. I looked down at Astaroth who appeared so tiny now compared to me. ⁃ Look at my pecs... getting so full... so heavy with muscle. I can’t wait till my whole body feels this way... weighing thousands of pounds of muscle!!! ⁃ Thousands of pounds? Too small!! Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of pounds!! Your muscle mass making the very earth tremble!! No scale ever strong enough to weigh how heavy you really are. His words swam in my head as I watched my pecs beginning to find more room to grow on my body, rising up while being forced down at the same time. The gap between my pecs was so deep, but it also grew tighter as they took up more space. I took my hand and placed it down into the gap, and felt the pressure being forced on it by these two powerful masses. Soon I would be able to crumble boulders between my pecs, or splinter trees just from flexing them together. Never have pecs been so mighty My abs and lower back began to burst with muscle at the same time to prevent my upper body from collapsing down upon it. My back, lats, and traps were still gaining mass, and I could just imagine how I looked. My traps rose up to near my ears, now giving me the guise of either having no neck at all or one so massive that it rose simply from my back. My abs exploded one by one, but there was to be no simple six-pack for this body. With my hands I felt, since I couldn’t see anymore below my pecs, that my own body was mutating and I now possessed a twelve pac!! With my knowledge of the male anatomy, I was aware that most humans have, at most, eight muscle bellies making up their ab muscle, but here I was with my abdomen divided in 6, with each becoming thick and as dense as cinder blocks. Fuck!!! How I wanted a mirror in this room!! ⁃ As you command. Vanished were the walls of bookshelves and toys, my chamber was now composed entirely of mirrors. Every surface… every wall… even the floor and ceiling were mirrors. There wasn’t even a door anymore!! Everywhere I looked I saw me, and what I saw freaked and thrilled me!! Astaroth watched as I took in my half formed body. The first thing I noticed was my head. It had only grown a small amount with the rest of my body, and my eyes still glowed a bright blue with no pupils at all. My head was tightly wrapped in between my immense traps, which now rose mightily past my ears. My neck, larger then my waist, was barely visible, as my pecs and deltoids simply covered it up. Finally, my lats caused my upper body to curve away from my body but then taper back in. How wide was I? I had no way of knowing in inches or feet how big I was, but at this size, it simply didn’t matter. My upper body had to be larger and wider then a car... and still I grew!! My lower torso... my abs... a brick wall didn’t do it justice!!! Each ab alone was a testimonial to muscle, and jointly created a pure work of mastery. Each crevice in the wall of abs, along with my newly forming Adonis belt was so deep... so so dark. My waist... no matter how thick, as it had to be over 50 inches, was firm compared to my massiveness of my chest giving me the ultimate wasp waist. I smiled at my reflection, and looked down at the Astaroth. ⁃ The birth of a monster. ⁃ Only the beginning... My legs began to tremble and quake as my feet began to grow longer and to thicken with muscle. Stretching upward, both my calf muscles began to take on mammoth proportions. They swelled up so thick that, the diamond shape of the two heads began to expand outward on all sides and take up more room over my ankle until it appeared that my foot formed right from my calf. My calf muscles stretched upward toward my kneecaps, but a titanic rumbling sound announced the birth of my new elephantine quads. I cried out in exhilaration as each muscle simply erupted in size. I could only drool over how massive they quickly were becoming. The lateral and medial muscles of my quads immediately became so swollen that I had to widen my stance. Each time I did, and created a little more room for my balls, they would quickly take up all available space. In no time at all the rectus emerged as two massive teardrops that dipped over my kneecaps and required me into a bow legged and crouched position for comfort. I was resigned that for the rest of my existence I would be forced to walk this way, and it made me supremely happy. By the fifth time I had spread my legs, this time as far as they could possibly go, I heard a familiar cracking noise and knew it was my pelvis breaking to enlargen my stance. This caused my waist to broaden as well, which only forced my upper body to grow more as well to keep my tapered look. As I felt my gluteus grow, I cried out. I had been growing for nearly thirty minutes now, and with each change and alteration to my body, the more orgasmic it felt. I moved my hands to try and feel my swelling ass since even with the mirrors I had trouble seeing it, but with my widening lats, I had difficulty moving my arms to even touch it. ⁃ My body... how did I ever exist in anything but this body you are forming for me!!! I am indeed becoming monstrous as you said. ⁃ And you shall remain this way for all eternity... immortal as you requested. ⁃ Fuck!!! I had forgotten that... ⁃ Never ageing... never sickening... never dying... existing as you are for eternity... pure power!!! I clenched my jaw and grit my teeth as I felt the agony of my pelvis bone breaking and growing again, extending my waist more and causing my stance to become far more unnaturally bowlegged. My legs were now so muscle bound, so massive, and so engorged, that some might say they bordered on the grotesque, but I only cried out for more. Every time I stepped now, the entire house shook and the stone floor beneath me cracked and shattered to dust from my insurmountable weight. In no time at all, I knew this entire house would come down around me simply due to my very existence, and that had me begging for more size and mass. As best as I could, I lifted my arms above my head and found that with some manoeuvring I could easily place my palms against the mirrored ceiling. By this time, I was over twenty feet tall, no doubt nearing twenty-five. My deltoids had grown so dense with muscle that it wasn’t easy to lift my arms above my head, but at this time it was still a possibility. My arms began to shudder and ignite with a blissful burning sensation as I finally felt my upper arms join the rest of my body in its symphony of growth. Flexing my upper arm, I watched as it quickly bloated with power, my biceps and triceps becoming thick and dense as stone. I wanted to scream out as my clavicle fractured and enlarged to create more room for upper body growth. The prominence of my upper arms made it difficult to bend my arms, forcing them down off of the ceiling. So much strength were in these arms now. I could easily rip apart a tree or a boulder with my bare hands, and my strength only increased as my forearms surged with size. My hands... fuck... the muscles of my hands expanded until I knew that by the time I had broken out of this house, I would be able to crush coal into diamonds and diamonds into dust. I glanced at myself in the mirror again, a creature of pure muscle. I saw myself as the world might see me: I was nightmarish, I was a mutant of muscle, I was freakish... I was beautiful!!! A beast of pure strength and power. I did a full body flex, and watched as my whole body became even more grotesque as it surged larger. When I released the flex, my body maintained the pump I had gained. Until this moment, my head had remained the same size as when I had first begun this journey, but with an unanticipated flash of pure torment, the bones that formed my entire cranium began to split and re-fuse larger. I tried to keep my eyes open to watch this happen but it was truthfully a frightening sight. My skull swelled and grew first until my head resembled an immense light bulb. My neck muscle continued to thicken to support the added weight of my new head. Soon my eye sockets expanded, as did my eyes. I had thought I understood pain with my last growth, but this surpassed even that. As my eyes doubled and tripled in size, I was afraid they were going to explode. My upper head looked alien, but as my cheekbones and nose began to grow as well, I could see that very soon I would look like me again... just a leviathan version of myself. My chin grew and squared off at the same time my brow ridge became more prominent. Fuck!!! This was now the head of a true Brobdingnagian!!!! My traps, afraid of being left behind, soon grew more immense and once again fused above my ears. I felt a peculiar feeling in my abdominal wall, and looked gain at myself in the mirror. It was odd to know I would never truly see my lower half again due to my immense pecs, but that only made me smile with happiness. That was how I wanted to live. My abdominal muscles were growing larger... lengthier... stretching down like thick tentacles toward my pubis. This was it, I thought. This was the moment I had been waiting for, and my body was preparing itself for it!!! I thought my body was evolving my pubis to be more muscular in order to hold the massive cock I was soon to have, but I was only partially correct. The tentacles of muscle forced their way into my penis and I could only cry out as the greatest surge of ecstasy hit me. Further and further this tentacle of muscle invaded my penis, starting at the base... forcing it to grow longer and thicker, transforming it from tissue into a shaft of pure muscle. My cock was becoming as the rest of my body was... nothing but bulging, pulsating, throbbing muscle!!! I whimpered as this metamorphosis occurred, as my cock was inundated with muscle to become this hard and thick shaft. My muscle cock, because what else could I call it, grew tremendous, nearly as thick as my own forearm, and just as my body continued to grow more massive with muscle, so did my cock. I wrapped my hand around what had once been my old cock, and instantly felt the difference. My muscle cock was no longer pliable with a soft feel but hard as the rest of my body was. I stroked it and felt it flex for the first time, growing even more tremendous in my hand. It was more sensitive then my original flesh cock, as my body evolved to have thousands more nerve endings imbedded throughout it. I could only drool as wave after wave of pleasure besieged my body as I stroked this new muscle cock, watching it grow even more colossal. The tentacles of muscle eventually reached the head, and I watched as this too was transformed into muscle, more bulbous and wider then ever before, the slit a vast open cavern. This was exactly the cock I had wanted, and watched as it expanded and lengthened until it grew even larger then my arm, the head mushrooming even fatter until it was thicker then my fist. I roared... I actually roared as my balls began to widen. I could feel the testosterone in my body being forced into overdrive, as my evolved testicles became a power plant to fuel my last metamorphosis into a being of total size and total masculinity. My head spun as my evolution went wonderfully out of control. As my balls grew immense and sent out shockwaves of testosterone fuelled by the hundreds of thousands of souls within me, I grew even faster, adding on hundreds of pounds of muscle each minute. Hair erupted all over my body, growing quicker and thicker on my face and chest. My hair growth was so out of control that where one follicle would once have grown, I know had five or six, making my newly grown beard thick and dark. Within minutes, I had a full beard that lengthened as I grew taller, my head nearing the thirty foot ceiling. My pecs were covered in a pure pelt of jet black hair, but no matter how thick the hair on me was, it couldn’t hide the musculature beneath it. The hairs on my arms and legs lengthened, trailing down onto my hands and feet, and my underarms had a forest of long jet black hair. My pubes grew denser as well as they covered my pubic mound and ever expanding balls. Thick hose like veins rose up all over my body feeding my musculature. New veins and arteries were formed doubling and then tripling the amount the human body had. My body needed this larger amount so my massive heart would be able to pump the required power throughout my body. My cock muscle, now nearing the length of my leg, grew even thicker as pipe-like veins took root, crisscrossing the entire surface and feeding this monster. The head... ugh!!! The head grew even larger, nearly the size of my cranium. My cock was indeed more then simply a devise for reproduction. It was a monument to all things muscle, all things strength, and all things masculine. Leaking a constant flow of precum, my entire body began emitting the most intense musk... sexual and masculine. Still the world spun around me as my whole being went into overdrive. ⁃ Changing... becoming... something else... all of my senses are becoming heightened... becoming... my voice...so deep... more like a rumble of thunder then a voice...yes...becoming even stronger... becoming... yes... a being of pure instinct... I feel as if I am transforming into something more animalistic the more masculine I become. ⁃ This is what you wanted. ⁃ Was it...??? ⁃ You wanted to be the alpha.. reign supreme over everything.., I am giving you that... ⁃ Yes... The largest surge of power shot through my entire body and I let out a massive roar, which shattered the walls of mirrors. This new evolution was wanted... asked for... but unexpected. I didn’t truly realise what it was I had desired, and now I was receiving it. ⁃ What is happening now... I’m... I’m becoming smarter... my intellect doubling... no tripling... Ha!!! Quadrupling!!! I’m smarter then any man alive!!! How is this happening??!! My brain... taking in so much information at once...YES!!!! Smarter then any human!!!! More powerful then any human... more supreme then any human!!! I am indeed the ALPHA!!! I breathe in and I can smell everything around me... every person, every creature. I am now the apex predator!!!! I have evolved past humanity into what humanity wishes it was!!! About to crash through this ceiling... soon I will be forced to reveal myself to the world... their superior... their ruler... and yet... can I say it... YES... I want more!!! My head smashed into the ceiling, the mirror and metal shattering and falling apart around me. As my growth surged one last time, my head appeared over the roof of my house, my shoulders where the mirrored ceiling had been. I had broken free of my womb and now planed to enjoy the playground that lay before me. The wind of my new world blew through my long black hair and caused my titanic nipples to harden. At one time I would have been embarrassed for the world to see me naked, but now that was the only way the world should see me!! How else would they bask in my magnificence? Worship their... could I say it? Could I speak the word?? YES!!!! Worship their new god!!!
  5. "Too big,” they’d said. Lose about 25 lbs and you’d place a lot higher. Tighten it up and come in smaller and more toned, and you’d have a good shot at winning. Those were the judges critiques at last year’s Olympia. It was a shame that women’s bodybuilding was so...so.... lame? Wasn’t the point of bodybuilding to get BIGGER muscles? Why have a heavyweight division if they’re only going to say I’m TOO BIG? Wasn’t that why they created bikini and physique? For those cute little muscle Barbies? Not for us musclebound women intent on being the best. And oh boy, do I intend on being the BEST, the BIGGEST, the MOST MUSCULAR woman alive... Screw the IFBB and everyone at the Olympia. I don’t need them or their contests to know who I am. “Too big.” You’re damn straight. They had no idea just how right they were.. I’ll show them too big alright, just wait until they get a load of this bulky muscle monster now! When I placed at that very bottom last year, I admit...I became deeply depressed. All the hard work, all the blood sweat and tears for naught. Did the judges not know how hard I lifted? How insanely strict my diet was? Did they not appreciate my time and dedication? So much of my life was devoted to winning, only to find out that I was the absolute worst competitor in their eyes? Well screw them! I built muscle so easily. I’d always tried to my hardest to be lean and well proportioned. But screw that, not anymore! My new goal is to gain as much muscle as possible. And let me tell ya, nobody packs it on like me! I am a muscle-building MACHINE! Heck, at 18 years old I had 18 inch biceps, 20 inches at 21, and at last year’s Olympia my arms were 23 inches. I was 33 then...I’ll be turning 34 the day before the next Olympia. Trust me when I say, my arms will be AT LEAST 34 inches. But is that my ultimate goal? NAH! My goals are so much loftier now than they have ever been- impossible for any other man or woman, even with drugs. Am I insane? Am I insane to want this, to add so much muscle? Yes. Yes I am. My entire life has been a balance between my family and my passion for bodybuilding. My husband and daughter are my number one priority. And they always will be. They both could see how devastated I was. I didn’t eat right, or lift at all for 3 months. I was sleeping 15 hours a day. My husband told me to do whatever it takes to feel myself again. Whatever it takes to get my revenge. Thank God for that man. He is so supportive (although we all know he's a muscle-lover so it's a win win for him). I won’t let them down. It was 3 months ago I decided to get absolutely massive. It only took a month to get back to where I was before the loss. Another month to get to my current 350 lbs of rock hard muscle. Like I said, I gain muscle so easily. I still have 6 months before the next Olympia. Over the course of 1 month I went from 200 lbs to 220 lbs. I went from 220 lbs to 350 lbs in the span of 2 months. And still 6 more months to go? Yikes. They said I was too big. Just wait. It was 3 months out from Olympia when my husband purposed steroids. I've never done drugs in my life. Hell, I barley even drank alcohol. We both shared a passion for a healthy lifestyle. I scoffed initially, but kept the idea in the back of my mind. Would it really be so bad if started doping? Everyone else did it, and it was a point of pride for me that I never did. But this was about revenge. This was about getting even, settling the score. Showing them JUST how big TOO BIG really was... Two months out. Last week I had broke the smith machine in my house. I'd been doing seated military presses, just some volume work, light weight- high reps, when my daughter snuck up behind me and started tickling me. I inadvertently pressed up on the 500 lbs too quickly and bent the whole machine. When my husband came running in to investigate the awful noise, I just shrugged my gargantuan basketball-sized shoulders and grinned sheepishly. There really wasn't enough weight in my home gym to challenge me anymore, so no biggie! My brother was in the Navy and had managed to procure some anchor chains from a battleship. An early birthday present he'd said. I was initially nervous, I didn't want him to get in trouble! But he just pretended to zip his lips and rolled his eyes. He's a goofball but I love him. Ironically he did end up in trouble when he returned back to his ship. His superiors weren't happy when he told them he broke three ribs in a "fight." I might have hugged him a tad too tightly. Anyway...back to my workouts. My husband had found an old warehouse his company owned, and combined with the chains and some construction equipment we bought, I was really able to let loose! What were already unheard of gains were now well past inhuman, and they were only increasing more and more. My body was a temple of pure muscle mass and strength. I'd also started pills and injections. An old friend who was a doctor had moved to Brazil, and he’d designed a new muscle-building cocktail specifically tailored to my genetic profile. No negative side-effects: no hair-growth, no acne, no voice changes or facial changes of any kind. It did however greatly increase my aggression. One day, a neighbor had come snooping around to investigate why there was loud banging and rumbling coming from a supposedly-abandoned warehouse. I had barreled across the warehouse, knocking over equipment and flinging anything in my path. My neck veins popped as I ripped the door right off its hinges and tore it in half, spit flying in his face as I roared at him for interrupting. Luckily my husband was there to calm me down. Because I was about to run straight through the concrete wall and go tear the guys house off its foundation. Rampage adverted! Today is the day. The day I take revenge on those ignorant judges. The day I take my rightful place as the best bodybuilder the world has ever know. I entered the auditorium from the rear, just as all the puny contestants were being called out. The main door would attract to much attention...not that I was worried about THAT, I just wanted to scare everyone at once. The fire exit was locked, but I made quick work of it with one quick inward push from my 42 inch forearms. The door was much too narrow- my traps alone wouldn't fit through the standard 32-inch width door. The crowd was cheering so loud they must not have heard the noise as I barged straight through the wall with my obscenely muscle-packed delts. Or the noise and shaking as I rumbled down the hallway. I had been wider than I was tall for weeks. Not hard when you're only 5'3". My 8 foot wide shoulders smashed up against either side. My legs were so massively thick, pumped and musclebound that I had to swing my whole body around to move, causing my shoulders and arms to gouge into the walls and absolutely demolish them. When I got to the stage entrance, a big burly security guard spotted me and tried to stop me. Now, a 6'6" 300 lbs man's size would normally intimidate most people. Haha! I was double his weight...TWO MONTHS AGO. I was easily tipping 950 lbs at this point and growing every minute. Those roids had done wonders! Doing one arm curls with a multi-hundred pound anchor chain attached to a Ford Escort had pushed my arms well beyond 120" and they were freakishly cut and vascular. When the guard put his hand on my chest to stop me, I simply lost it. Anger turned to pure rage as I started clenching my fists- how dare he try and stop me, the ULTIMATE beefcake from her destiny. Freaky veins turned nightmarish as all the steroids began to mix with my hatred for all things Olympia. The 300lb man didn't stand a chance as I walked right through him. The impact of my bulldozer-benching pectorals effortlessly sent the guard flying 15 feet out onto the brightly lit stage. He landed on top of the contestants, knocking a few to their feet. The commotion silenced the cheering crowd. As the MC turned to see the disturbance he nearly fainted at the sight of my giga-mass. My extreme tan contrasted perfectly with my bright white Nike Shox, red bikini top and booty shorts. I looked like a UFC ring-girl who absorbed the Hulk and then overdosed on Human Growth Hormone. Contestants eyed me with both awe and fear. The judges called for more security- two men similar to the first came rushing towards me. Something primal in me snapped as I grabbed each man by the throat and quickly threw them into the crowd below me. I stomped to the edge of the stage and leered down at the judges with a sadistic grin and evil glint in my smoky eyes. My heart began to race as steroid-filled blood coursed through my veins, compounding with my intense rage for the biggest pump of my life. "Look at me now! Am I too big for you now?" I roared, cranking down into THE most muscular pose. I reached down a hoisted up two of the judges by their shirt collars. Spit flying in their faces, I roared, "Look at the monster you've created, this is all thanks to you!" I obsessively began doing bicep curls with their pathetic bodies, pumping my biceps faster and faster. Their weight was far too light and only added to my intense need to make them feel my wrath! Both judges wet their pants and lost consciousness. Angered even more, I hurled the two bodies out into the stands, the impact surely crippling the judges. Seeing them lying their motionless fueled my lust for revenge, for more dominance and violence! Glaring out at the world over my multi-foot deep pectoral cleavage, I grabbed the microphone stand next to me and pulled from either end. The stretched metal sheared in half from the brute power and strength of my bare hands. Audience members and contestants screamed and ran. "Yes! Run! Be scared! Be VERY SCARED!!! You are about to witness the rise of a goddess! The rise of a MUSCLE MONSTER! I am a massively pumped-up muscle building powerhouse, and I. WILL. HAVE. MY. REVENGE!" Swinging my behemoth body I hurled the twisted metal shards at the rear exits, shattering windows and creating more chaos in the audience as they struggled to exit. With an earthshaking rumble, I leaped down from the stage- my now 1,200+ lbs weight cracking the concrete floor like egg shells and sending tremors that registered on the Richter scale. With an animalistic grunt, I overturned the judges table like it was cardboard, sending it careening end over end. Eyeing the carnage and destruction with equal parts glee and fury, my attention fell on my ultimate prize: the stage. Who knows how heavy a full stage is? No seriously...I want to know. There had to have been at least a full ton just in the weight of the dozen or so competitors still on stage. Punching my hands through the wood paneling, I found grip on a metal I-beam running the length of the stage. Roaring like a possessed demon, I began to lift the stage. Nothing. How dare this sorry excuse of human engineering defy me! Tensing my monolithic arms, shoulders and legs, I funneled even more horrific power into my insane musclebound body and began to heave up on the structure. Ever so slowly, more and more cracking could be heard and I redoubled my efforts- pouring even MORE god-shaming , titanic, monstrous strength into my incredibly pumped and still-growing muscles. "You thought I was too big before? HA!!! You think I'm big now? Well just wait, I'm only getting started! Mama Pump is here to show you all true power and mass!" With a horrible shearing noise, a large piece of stage splintered and broke off in my hands. After all, it wasn't built to be picked up in one piece...even if someone was actually strong enough to do so. "Pathetic! So weak!" With a maniacal laugh I beat my chest like King Kong and screamed at the futility of fragile steel. My muscles bloating and expanding and pumping bigger and bigger with every huff and puff. Fleeing audience members tripped as the auditoriums foundation shook from the force of my massively overpowered arms slamming into my wrecking-ball sized pecs. They had said I was too big. There was no such thing. A monster had been born, and I was going to keep pumping and growing until every single one of them regretted ever crossing me.
  6. First time posting content on this forum... Thad this story floating around on other sites for a few years now. It’s still relatively short because I don’t often have the motivation to WRITE erotica, if you know what I mean CH. 1 "Graaarrr, I need to grow BIGGGEERR!" CLASH. Two 500 lbs dumbbells flew across the fully stocked basement gym, cracking the concrete walls. "Get in here NOW babe," bellows Meghan as she slowly raises her massive 750 lbs muscled bulk off a now busted bench. Her husband Nate rushes down the reinforced concrete and steel staircase, carrying a tray of hypodermic needles. Steroids. Lots and lots of steroids. No sooner did he reach his wife, when she flexed a massive most muscular pose, roaring like a lioness as her enormous upper body exploded, her mass swelling to three times it's 'relaxed' state. Meghan's outburst had its desired effect, as her husband's erection grew. "Hurry up and inject me Natey poo, your giga-huge muscle monster of a wife needs her juice if she wants to GROW even more MASSSIVVEEE!" Nate grins, and begins the injections, one in each muscle group. As the highest quality anabolic drugs flood his wife's blood stream, Nate asks, "Do you think you've gained any inches on your arms since earlier?" Turning to the full length mirror behind her, the former Sports Illustrated bikini model appraised her muscle bound physique. Smirking, she slowly lifts her muscle bound arms to vertical, her exercise ball shoulders crushing her ears. Even unflexed, her thick, meaty, golden tanned triceps dipped 2 whole feet below her elbow. Without bending her arms, Meghan clenches her dainty, feminine fists, causing her ripped, bulging masses of pure female muscle to rise into arms 85" around. Meghan purrs in sexual delight, warning Nate of the impending erotic explosion of flesh. Like a crane, she gradually cranks her arms up, every inch her fists move upwards causing a half doze inches of solid beefy bicep to rise. Her rugby sized forearms finally collide with her biceps at a 60 degree angle. Over 3 feet of brawny bicep, combined with her massive triceps make her majestic arms 6 feet tall, far above his 5'8" wife’s head. "Measure them now sweetie!" Nate rushes to get a step ladder and measuring tape, his erection ready to burst. Standing on the ladder, Nate can't help but feel tiny next to the beastly mass of Meg. Standing 6'1, at 275lbs, Nate is no small man. A bodybuilder himself, the former college lacrosse player, and current U.S Marine Colonel was used to being in control. Placing his large tough hands on his wife’s surprisingly smooth silky skin, and feeling the steel underneath sent his control out the window. Your arms are 230" baby girl! "That it she says?" Meg pouts her luscious lips, and shakes her head causing her long golden locks to become messy. "I can't look small for my man. Just look at my pathetic little chicken wings, I'm withering away for christ sake. Hold on, let me pump some." As the uber buff Meghan walks to her weight rack, her near half-ton weight cracks the floor, each step a mini-quake. Falling to the floor from the ladder, Nate looks up at the 7 ft wide back of his goddess wife. Unable to turn her head, Meg blows him a kiss in the mirror, flashing a sultry, movie star smile. "Want to watch me GROW?...." CH. 2 In 2013, Meghan Wakefield was a sophomore marine biology major at UNC Chapel Hill. A bright young woman, with devastating beauty, and a bombshell body, she was a true southern belle, at the top of the world. She was captain of the cheering team and Class President. Her long blonde hair, perky C breasts, big bright green eyes, and long athletic legs easily got her a modeling career with Sports Illustrated. She ended u meeting Nate over Spring break 2014, in Florida. Nate, a handsome country boy, and a Harvard law student, was in town for his lacrosse teams championship. Little did they know that they're lives would be forever changed. CH. 3 Laying on the floor of his custom built basement gym, Nate had the perfect view of his perfect woman. Not four feet from him was the most massively muscular, most insanely jacked female. Make that the most muscular HUMAN ever. Only two years ago, Meg had been a fit, long legged bikini model; what stood before him now was a monstrous musclebound goddess, of giga-proportions. At a mere 5'8" tall Meg was at least 11 feet wide from exercise ball sized shoulder to exercise ball sized shoulder. Her aircraft carrier back alone was 7 feet wide. "Honeybuuun, whatchya doin?" drawled Meghan. "Quit daydreaming and pay attention. Y'all don't want to miss the show do you?" Taking slow, deliberate and quaking steps, Meg went to the far end of her dumbbell rack, her oversized oil drum thighs forcing her to waddle. "Let's see, those light 500 lbs single arm bicep curls barely warmed me up. I got to go REALLY heavy to impress my big strong Marine." Picking up a 700 lbs dumbbell in each hand, Meg turns toward the mirror and starts repping out alternating hammer curls at a blistering pace. "Oh yeah baby, ohhh yeah! LOOK AT ME! Have you ever seen arms this fucking huge? Oh god am I hot, like I AM SOOO MASSIVE I FRIGGEN LOVE HOW THICK I AM!" Rarrrrrrg! With a ear spitting roar, Meg rips out 1 more curl and with massive power hurls the quarter ton weights at the wall, embedding the steel two feet into the concrete walls."I am THE MUSCLE GODDESS! Look at these biceps, they must weigh 150lbs each! Your muscle freak wifey gained 50lbs in the last 15 minutes alone!" With a coy grin, knowing it will rial his wife up, Nate says, "Babe your arms are pretty big, but your chest and legs look a little small..." With a smoldering look in her gorgeous green eyes, the 800 lbs female behemoth growled, "I'm just getting started." CH. 4-6 So swole. So thick, so wide, so meaty. So...fucking. Sexy. Meghan was staring vainly at herself in the mirror waiting for her husband to come back with her next round of steroids. God I love juice, thought Meghan, almost as much as I love muscles. Hearing the basement door, she quickly clenched her glutes, giving Nate a spectacular view of her ass. Each cheek was the size of medicine ball. "Bet you could bounce a quarter off this ass huh babe." "You could bounce a bowling ball off that butt Meg," smiled Nate, as he began injecting the steroids into his wife's glutes, hamstrings, and calves. As Nate bent down to inject her calves, Meg suddenly raised up on her dainty feet. Nate had always been a leg man. Meghan had legs alright. Flexing down hard, Meg's calf kept getting thicker and thicker, until it was easily bigger than a basket ball, bulging a foot and a half from the back of her leg, and so wide that even with her legs spread, her calves rubbed against each other. Knowing she had him now, Meg cooed, "Just wait until I actually do some lifting before you cum all over my beyond huge calve." " But let me pump up my sexy little quads first okay pumpkin?" The mere act of dropping back down to her feet caused a massive shudder to rattle the gym. Walking to the squat rack was more difficult than it should have been, given the insane mass of her planet shaking quads. "Ohhh wow does that feel good. I just love knowing my weight alone cracks reinforced concrete. Imagine what would happen if I actually tried, imagine the POWER I posses. Taking her place in the squat rack, Meg unracked the bar and raised it to her shoulders. She was so wide that Nate had to specially build the entire set up, and the bar was made of 4" diameter titanium. Every inch of the bar was filled with 200 lbs weights, bending the super strong bar. 20 plates total plus the 200 lbs bar meant Meg was about to squat 4200 lbs...Jeesh, thats as much as my truck Nate realized. "Hey stud, get a load of this." Meg was so built, she couldn't even reach proper form, her ultra huge hamstrings and ass slamming into her lower legs preventing her from going lower. "2 tons is sooo taxing on my tiny little legs Nate. Can you 'cum' spot me pleeasse." As he went behind her, Meg yelled, Never mind, just kidding! And proceeded to push the weight up over her head, holding it there, and with a massive grunt, heaved the entire 4200 pound bar up, sending it through the ceiling and into the next story of the house. "Dammit, there is no weight in this house capable of quenching my thirst for pump. There is no weight on EARTH that my genetically superior mega muscle won't lift. I am UNSTOPPABLE!" Nate was worried now, he'd never seen her this way. "Baby I am the strongest woman in the universe!" "Just think about my power, my strength. All I want is MORE MASS. MORE POWER. MORE MUSCLE! Measure my legs before I work my beastly chest!" Slightly unnerved at the dominating tone, Nate grabbed the tape.He literally couldn't fir his hand between Meg's thighs, there was just that much beef. Each redwood thigh was 5 feet wide and almost as thick as he was. " 270" quads must be a record hun!" "Hey babe. Measure my calves before I squish you like a pancake between these record breakers." "115" calves! Holy shit!" From his knees, Nate looked up to try and see his wife's expression, but could only see her chest. Meghan suddenly laughed, her entire body swelling with new found beef as she inhaled more and more air. "The power the strength, the mass! What a rush!" she screams as she plows a fist into wall. Nate falls on his back, now afraid. His wife just put a 3 foot deep crater into walls built to survive a nuclear explosion. Lifting her foot, Megan slams it down between Nate's legs, sending cement flying with a massive boom as her leg is buried to her knee. "Take a good look at this monster leg you skinny little runt. See the size difference? You are NOTHING compared to me! I could tear you to shreds!" Meg strides to the weight rack again, sinking deep into the floor with every step."This will blow your mind!" Bending over, she grabs the rack, and LIFTS THE ENTIRE THING UP TO HER WAIST. "See my power? Just think what 300" arms can do! No, watch what they can do!" With an orgasmic roar, Meg begins curling the 3 ton rack to her chest. Her now uber pumped biceps only manage 6" before they meet her now truck tire forearms. "You think this is heavy? You think this is as big as I can get? You think I'm fucking big now ?" " Well I'm going to school you in the personification of ENORMOUS!" Taking a deep breath that expands her mass by 50%, she violently throws the rack into the wall, causing massive destruction and shacking the entire foundation. Flexing a jaw dropping crab pose, Meg orders Nate to get the rest of her steroid supply."Got to get bigger bae, the only thing I want is pure mass. Pure muscle. I must weigh 1,000 lbs, but the body you see before you now is a 90 lbs weakling compared to whats next." Throwing her head back in ecstasy , Meg roars, "I WILL GROW EVEN BIGGER!" Shit, shit, shit, Nate mutters to himself as he sprints up the basement stairs at a break neck pace. Bursting into the kitchen, he races towards the double door fridge where Meghan's steroids are kept. Might as well grab it all, he says to himself, as he picks up 22 syringes of a secret, experimental steroid designed by the DOD. Nate cringes as he here's more concrete crack; knowing the bill to repair today's damage will put a decent dent in his savings. I guess that's the price to pay for having the worlds hottest wife. Turning to the door he looks down toward the end of the hall where the dust is still settling from a 4,200 lbs weight shooting through the floor. Nate almost falls down the stairs as the entire house rumbles and shakes. "Rarrgggg! HAH, puny steel! Feel the power of my super pumped muscles!" Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Nate sees Meghan flexing over what was previously the dumbbell rack, only now it looks like an accordion, shoved deep into the foundation. Dear lord, it took 6 of my men to to lug that down here last month... "Honey bunches! Oh look, more juice! Is that for me? Ohh, you shouldn't have!" "Look honey, look at that pathetic piece of crap you call steel. Weaker than butter if you ask me Get to the injections, I just love how I feel right now. Like, I'm literally 4 times the size of you! My strength is superhero shaming, but my size is the real turn on." Raising her arms out like the goddess she is, Meg whispered, "Make me grow my king." Nate's more than happy to oblige. Five minutes later, he takes a step back, stepping around the now empty syringes, kind of looks like a heroin addict lives here, he thinks. Almost like she could read his mind, Meg coos, "I'm a muscle obsessed, steroid junkie addicted to getting bigger, gaining more and more massive muscles is all I think about. I'm by far the largest bodybuilder history has ever known. My bicep alone is bigger than Jay Cutler's entire body. And just think babe, I'm not done. No. Not even close. In fact, look at this." Stepping on the heavy duty scale in the corner; that he'd bought from the local zoo (to weigh elephants, rhinos etc...), she sent the numbers on the screen reeling. 700lbs. 850lbs. 1000lbs. 1200lbs. Good lord, Nate mumbles. Finally, the readout stops at 2050 pounds."Just think Nate. Your mega massive muscle wifey weighs over a TON! And I just took even more roids! Grrrg! Roooaaar! More! Yeeeess, I can feel myself growing, I can feel myself getting heavier! Just flexing is adding serious mass. I AM POWER! LOOK AT ME NATEY POO, I JUST GAINED 100 LBS FROM FLEXING MY ARMS! You better run for your life, because this house is comin down y'all." CH. 7 It was approaching dawn when the entire gated community of Orchard Heights shook to its foundations. Raaaarrggg! Mother fucker get bigger!!!! Megan bellowed as she again slammed the mangled remains of Nate’s trucks together. She’d been repeating this motion for well over 4 hours now, trying to work her monstrosity of a chest. Meghan was getting angrier and angrier with ever “rep” as each 10 foot wide pectoral would swell immensely and crash into each other with enough force to create a sonic boom. Her chest stuck out 14 feet in front her so it was impossible to do a normal bench press. That and her biceps which were each pushing 6 feet WIDE and even thicker. Her bicep alone was almost 200” flexed. Her tricep was 2/3 bigger!!!! Her muscles were not ripped, or shredded, or any other word that could describe a human being. She’d long surpassed that species. The definition between muscle groups was insane. Sickening. Her shoulders were so jacked that when she raised them a mere 6 inches, her head was at risk of being sheared right off. She liked the pressure though. It wouldn’t be impossible to create diamonds if you placed a lump of coal between her striations. In her hands, she had taken two military hummers of Nate’s, grabbing the bumper of each one and swinging them in together to simulate the pec deck motion. Only she was single handled swinging a 7,700 lb armored vehicle by its bumper. (The US Army took some pride in that engineering marvel) Nate had once seen a strong man take one end of an Olympic barbell and raise it straight out in front of him. He held it horizontally with one hand for maybe minute before his arm shook and he dropped it. The exercise worked stabilizers and forearms etc.. Meghan was doing a similar movement. With 8 plus tons. Meg’s bright white and pink, size 6 Nike Shoxs and thick pink hooters slouch socks were planted firmly on the pavement, which itself was no longer very firm, considering a woman who weighed more than an African elephant was pressing down on it with immense strength and power. Her insanely tight white yoga pants that could cover a circus tent, despite barley serving on her, were stretched so tight that her deeply tanned skin shown through completely. The military had wanted to design a new material similar to Spandex, that would be bullet proof and tear resistant. When Nate had heard about it, he figured Meg would be the perfect test for the material. Her monster quads and hamstrings were slowly but surely bulging so massively that the thread was coming unstitched. So much for that, better luck next time DOD. Freakishly inhumanly thick traps throbbed far above her head, they peaked more than a yard above her hair. Her shoulders, pecs, and traps already enveloping her head, each rep smooshing her almost to point of strangulation and blocking her entire view. All she could see when her arms were raised was her own musculature... and as far as she was concerned, there simply wasn’t enough of it. With her arms straight out holding the trucks, her triceps dipped low. Hanging like a side of beef was incorrect...her triceps were bigger than the whole cow! Hanging so low they merged with her “wide as a barn door back. Once again, misleading because her back was bigger than a whole barn! Much bigger! Her back was pushing 30 feet wide at this point. That’s 360 inches. 914 cm. Bigger than an entire Mr. Olympia lineup combined. And then multiplied by two! With her biceps peaking over her head and her triceps dropping so low they hit her knees (they literally pressed down into her massively exaggerated wide hips and quads) she would take a deep breath and then tense her enormous chest muscles, bringing her arms as close together as possible and really squeezing her pecs. The sight was ridiculous. The noise was deafening. The air sizzled with the heat of her raw sexual, beastly power and mind warping size. Sweat glistened and dripped flowing down the huge cuts in the chest muscles, turning to steam in the brisk morning air of New England. Pure raw power. Pure sex. Pure MUSCLE. The quiet gated suburb of Orchard Heights was alive with the sound, sights and smells of Meghan Wakefield erotically pumping her massive muscles. Held in her deceptively dainty well manicured hands were two military humvees weighing 4 tons each. “Fucking look at me and tremble you scrawny bitches, look at this power this size! MY power! MY size! Im unstoppable!” I AM POWER! I AM MUSCLE! I’m the most insanely pumped up, super humanly strong, mega-ultra-super-heavy weight bodybuilder! I am the most muscular living thing to ever exist or ever will! Worship me as I obsessively pump myself even more massive!” Meghan roared, to nobody in particular, but yet for all the world to here. Of course, the neighborhood had been evacuated hours ago when the “earthquake” struck. Or at least that was what the news was calling it. Technically, there WAS an earthquake, or better yet, a “Megha-quake” if you will. After destroying the basement, Meghan’s roid- induced mania and wild, driven desire to bulk up went into overdrive. Against Nates adamant pleas to calm down, Meg had pulverized the entire basement and house when she tried to exit the basement. Walking up the stairs proved unsuccessful as her giga-weight was so heavy she completely crushed the heavily reinforced concrete and steel stairs when she stepped on them. The futility of the construction had enraged Meghan and she hulk smashed the stairs into crumbling bits. With hellfire in her eyes, Meghan had turned full on to Nate and flexed an ab and thigh pose so huge that her quads and chest actually knocked him over. Roaring with spit flying, she’d proceeded to crank her arms up and down over and over again, squeezing and flexing her monolithic traps and shoulders until they were bright red. Then she spied the old weight rack in the corner where Nate kept his weights. Giggling like a crazed school girl, Meg pounded her way to the rack and proceeded to upend it with one arm. Maneuvering her other arm into position, she hurled it across the room like a soccer player might do with a ball. A steal I-beam floor hoist was torn from the ceiling and sparked another idea. “Babe, I’ve always hated that you built this house with such roomy ceilings, it really makes me feel short. But I think I know how to even the score. Watch my fucking power babe! Meg ripped the I beam the rest of the way out of the ceiling and started swinging it over her head like a club, tearing through the floor and utterly demolishing the rest of the house. Nate cowered in the corner to avoid being hit by all of his nice things that were now falling hazardously around him from upstairs. To say he was scared shitless at this point was an understatement. Meg had gone completely off the rails and was a literal ton of roid-raging muscle and fury. (If not more). Who are we kidding, it was way, way WAY more. At some point Nate must have lost consciousness from fear/arousal because when he woke up, he was covered in concrete dust surrounded by remnants of what was once his beautiful home. Meghan was no where in sight but he could hear her animalistic, predatory grunts from the front yard. Nate quickly pulled out his phone to contact his security team at the Pentagon. Things were going bad fast. Worriedly wondering why Meg was grunting, he’d no sooner heard his office secretary answer when the quake hit. Knowing better, Nate wobbled over to the massive hole in the basement wall to see Meghan standing in the driveway with his Porsche flattened at her feet. She’d managed to jump (who knows how high) and came down like the hand of god on his prized 911. Still on the phone, his secretary was going crazy, “Oh my God, Sir, are you okay what’s going on omg!” “Wake up SecDef and alert Homeland and the President... not sure how this will end. And I want this area under an immediate mandatory evacuation order.” Now recovered from his shock, Nate was beginning to get royally pissed. His million dollar home was destroyed. His $150 super-charged Porsche was now a candy apple red pancake and he was pretty sure his insurance didn’t cover “acts of enraged muscle monster?” “Meghan Marie, calm down right now!” Nate bellowed her middle name in anger. (Maybe yelling at your girlfriend who weighs more than your HOUSE was a bad idea in hindsight.) Not bothering to turn around, Meghan’s voice effortlessly boomed, “you are an insignificant RUNT compared to my awesome godly power and I could literally rip you into pieces. I won’t because I love you obviously but it would be this easy.” She picked up the flattened Porsche and ripped it in half like paper, her biceps and forearms bulging and growing and thickening even further. “To make it up to your goddess you will worship at my feet and tell me how huge I am.” It had been around that time that Marines from Nate’s unit arrived and evacuated the street. The neighbors were being debriefed and fed the official story of “just an earthquake.” Of course, 2.0 earthquakes weren’t totally uncommon in New England but still.
  7. neuheimeer

    A New Voyage

    Ok!!! The time has come, and for many forumers, this is my first story. Its so complex, that I decided to buld that in phases. So, let's start with that: A NEW VOYAGE Introduction Andreas Baumgartner is a 19 yo student in his gymnasium, ending his basic general studies (and preparing for uni). He was some kind of a nerd who was a love for science and a secret desire for muscles, a thing that no one knew in his home. His notes and grades were the best in the course (ok, except PE that was aceptable, pretty average but no so good as his classmates) as a result of a hard-work ethic teached in his family. Sadly his dad was a drunk-aggressive guy that betrays his own mom and brothers, having Little money as a result of this, living with permanent conflicts, until the last day of high school. During nights he was dreaming with comming out with superheroes helping him to escape from this hell from his home. In recent times was suffering with depression, although he managed to mantain his grades, having the best grade, and receiving his high school certificate in flying colors. But in this last day of high school, the time bomb from his family exploded in all the intensity he didn´t even knew; in this moment his dad screamed out to him: ‘Get out of the house, YOU FUCKING BURDEN-DOUCHEBAG!’ and attacked him with punchs and knocks, so strong that hit him on the floor, leaving it unconsciously of the facts occuring at the hall of the high school and causing an pathetic mayhem that need to evacuate him to the Heidelberger Universitätsklinikum. Shortly after, one of the teachers called to the police commenting the circunstances occurring at that moment. Inside the hospital, the doctors did the clinical exams to check and diagnose him about his situation, because he also suffered from migraines needing to ingest pills in the nights in order to sleep in a correct way to respond his studies and his family (giving him a lot of pressure to cope). In his dreams, he was seeing a lot of muscle men giving him help and guiding to a new stage, living with them in a special palace in the middle of the alps with a secret bunker where the men live inside, having a huge gym, remembering the mythical Golden Gym in California or the Cammel crew Gym in Kuwait, a library that contains millions of books, magazines and Works realized by these men and from the outside world; a special room that contains laboratories making scientific studies in many areas (including sport and muscle, obviously), bedrooms where the men sleep, and many features. The palace was located near to river Rot in Switzerland, above a hill, being built in a late-gothical style, with a tower at its centre, and four Little ones, each one in different directions, surrounded by wáter in artificial channels developed in the late middle age. In one of the sides, there was stairs, that connects the castle with the outside square in front of the artificial cannel barrier, being used ocassionally on weekends. At the other side, there was the barracks, being used as wineries, libraries and laboratories, only accesible by a secret door to subterranean floors. In one of the dreams, inside of the room in the hospital, he saw one of the men looking at him with concerns about his health and his lifepath, quenstioning him what are he doing there, and he didn´t know what to answer. He felt that the doctors planned to move him to the social protection unit because of his personal and family record considering that he is in risk state, according to reports sending there about that. But he didn’t understand what was really happening until he wake up two days after the incident that he Heard from one of his Friends what was really happening, but the pathway that he must take to his new life is long and full of difficulties to cope and handle with positive results…… and big surprises. But before, we must take a retrospective Chapter 1 - A secret in the house ‘Damm it, I have problems with Harz-III’ screamed Günther, Andreas’s dad when looked the tax acquittance he recived from the regional tax direction. His social payment to cope with the general Budget have been cut off and the family hadn’t a good year. That was 2001, a complicated year for many German households. Even for the Baumgartners, who have been a pretty typical Baden-Würtembergische low middle-class family with social and internal problems this was a very difficult moment to live for. At those days, arguments were a common thing every morning, with both parents screaming against each other in front of their children. Andreas was the second of three sons, all men, but with dificulties in every day life, as many other teens, being an average teen with 1,56 m measuring height, short light-browny hair, gray eyes, greek classical nose and a very skinny body with a relative-long torso and long legs and arms, specially for a 13-year-old boy. He was a nerdy boy who liked of comics, specially Superman, that considered his model and inspiration, being a frequent reader of this while doing his schoolwork at the library. His days was passing literally beetwen the Gymnasium, the library and home, when continue problems are waiting inside the door. At his academic activities he was one of the best students out there, with a (very posible) brilliant future if it wasn’t for his family, that became his main obstacle beetwen him and his future profesional career. But, speaking abhout having Friends, there was another story, because he didn´t have much of this. His best friend was also a good student who spares time with. At free times, when we has Reading comics, he was fantasising about muscle men who were saving his life from the nightmare that became his own home and his studies. But at the same time, he was starting to feel atractions to the sports magazines because of the hunks posted at the front covers. At the same time, he started to work on weekends at a restaurant for tourists wit the objective of obtaining some money for him, because of the –then– current situation, giving him a posibility to continue with his studies without major financial conflicts. After Günther recived the dead-line notice from the tax authority, he decided to talk to his family about the situation. Günther wasn’t a good speaker either, specially when he had been in financial troubles since 2 years before when he was sacked from his position as a designer from an important electronics company. After that, he was incorpored into Media Markt, working as a salesman from the Mannheim store, but earning less money than in his last position, forcing to the whole family into a new dinamic but with continue problems. The conversation started with the explanations about the situation and the notices that had been reciving in the last months before, a situation that put him in an uncomfortable position. In this time, he was lying to his family about what was really happening with him, with the intention of mantaining a normal family life. His wife, Maria, was suspecting about his doubble life for the last 5 years before that moment. The tension was really captable at first sight, with him feeling nerviously at one side, and his wife and children with the other, with her sreaming out at him: ‘You are a big fail and the biggest mistke of my life, you were lying to me hiding the notices’. He need to explain the whole truth to his family. He couldn’t hide the problem for so much time without a break-up and long arguments, the truth was hitting his own door feeling overwhelmed to him, who couldn’t sleep in days. He returned to her an strange explanation of what he was doing with the money, something that didn’t conviced to the family, and the nighmare have just begun. He said that he invested the money in a special fund for crisis moments, and that they were living with the profits he was obtaining with ‘this’. ‘And if I didn’t do that we just couldn´t live in a well level’, he said in a laconic tone. That was enough for his wife that said: ‘Wha were you doing with our money Günther?, Do you have really any idea of what are you doing and the risks?’ ‘First, you lost the job, I knew that last week, and now you came with that theatrical version that you wasted the money we earned with years of hard work, specially for me that I sacrified all that I liked just for you?’ ‘Honey, I’m feeling very sorry for our realtionship and for our family, so just please forgive me!’ He said in response, crying. ‘But you are lying the whole time, that I don’t even know who reallyy you are, our family needs a real change for good’, she said, also crying but being angry from what she Heard. The children were standing quiet, no one tried to talk. The parents said to them: ‘Go out to the garden while we talk’. The rest of the fight is history, the coupple decided to take a few days in the summer to think about their future, while their children come to the summer camp. It wasn’t an esay one, after many discussions, arguments and fights beetwen tham, that have been affecting to all, even for Maria, a sales manager in a regional car store. Maria, who were 3 years minor from his husband, married with high expectations, that couldn’t be reached. She was really frustated about her marriage life and her job itself, dreaming of becoming a schlager-singer, because of her soft-velvet voice, that become more rough as she was having Günther’s sons and frequent smashes with him. Sometimes, she was chatting at him with his cousin, Markus, a truck-driver that resembles of Franz Meersdonk from Auf Achse. One of the three sons, Ingo, the major, was really the son of this relationship. At the same time, Günther was dating out with his workmate, Gisela Reichmann-Bauer, becoming even more than just Friends, and he didn’t know that his wife was also cheating him. Gisela was a blond woman with beautiful emmerald-green eyes and a perky skin that was looking for a new space in the city, because she was a newcomer from Heilbronn. He offered her a bedroom into his house, but he didn’t even know also that his wife spied his handy and discovered the romance. That was the main reason for the discussion, but there are more surprises. Gunther was also involved in a money-laundering scheme that permited him and his family live with a good standard, providing him with some extra money for the months to come.In the last days, he was thinking of get out of that mafia, but the financial pressure forced to took another decision instead. At those days, the relationship with Gisela was getting too strong to continue without any anger from his wife. At the same time, Gisela was expecting to start a new life with her, so she proposed to him to be a new marriage, but he wasn’t able to say ‘Yes’. He had to take a decision, right now, at the hurricane: Was it posible to break-up his marriage to go with her? Or, does he really need to recover his marriage, even with the posibility to continue being unhappy for the next years? This was the beginning of a new crossroad for him. In this case, he took a special one, instead: Going out of the house, and search a motel to stay there for a coupple days before returning home.
  8. Back to the first part of this chapter.... "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match Finally, another chapter.....a group of the boys are heading off for muscle worship in LA! Part 1. Sorry it has taken me so long to continue. ENJOY! Comments welcome... Updated 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 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 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 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match Casey and Abdul shook hands and almost immediately crashed into each other like sumo wrestlers. Moving with confident skill, Abdul wrapped his arms around Casey’s chest and slid them up underneath his armpits. He gained leverage, letting out a massive grunt as he heaved the big muscleboy up off his feet. Casey moaned as Abdul slammed him down to the mat. “Awesome,” breathed Lang. “That was fast,” said Waring. “He’s not done yet,” said Alvarez. The men leaned in to watch closer. The wrestlers’ gigantic muscles rippled with pumping, vascular power on the mat. Casey managed to break free for a second, but found himself in Abdul’s guard. Abdul was already going for a triangle choke. Casey was slippery enough to wiggle free for a moment, but Abdul climbed onto his back and sunk in a chokehold, rocking Casey backwards as he tried to shove his hands underneath his rippling forearm. It was no use. Superior experience took the moment from Casey. Abdul reached behind him and grabbed Casey’s asscheeks. “Let’s keep it clean, keep it clean,” said Moster, circling. “Think you’re tough, punk?” Abdul snarled into Casey’s ear. “I know I am,” said Casey. He struggled to wriggle himself free. Sweat began to pour down his body, further drenching the mat. Abdul stretched him out as the other guys watched. They slid in the growing pool of oil and sweat. As he dug his hands in, he caught Casey’s posers with his heel. Casey could feel them sliding down his quads the harder he squeezed. The elastic band stretched until is slipped under the pouch. For a flash, Casey felt humiliated and helpless, almost half naked and groaning as Abdul dominated him. Then he retaliated. Snapping one hand onto Abdul’s pecs, he managed to push him back and deliver a powerful backhand blow across Abdul’s face. Abdul’s face whipped to one side. “Fuck Turkish rules. Keep the posers on,” Casey snarled. Moster said nothing. Mouths dropped open. Abdul released the posers, smiled back, as Casey pulled them back into place. Casey looked back at him, and Abdul smiled - and returned a powerful backhand blow of his own across Casey’s face. Casey’s head whipped to the right. He looked back slowly and nodded. “We’re even.” Welts began to appear on the faces of both men. All of sudden, Abdul shot out, gutwrenching Casey’s face into his lap. “No. Now we’re even.” He tried to shoot a takedown, but Casey suddenly sprawled flat, flipped him, and got a tight front headlock on Abdul. He went down on one knee and flipped him over with a fireman’s carry. Before Abdul knew what hit him, he was on his back. Casey felt his arm between his legs as he attempted a cradle. He was close to scoring. Abdul, his face now puffing up, struggled in the sweaty pool of muscle. Casey locked up his hands and rocked him back. The tide of battle changed. Somehow Abdul got to his feet, grabbing hold of Casey’s hips and now shooting for a second takedown, bending over him now and reaching down his broad back. Casey, surprised, tried to sprawl but Abdul guided his hands up again toward the straps of his posers and made him almost sit on his hands. Casey tried to bridge, but Abdul clamped onto him. Saliva sprayed from his mouth and onto the back of Casey’s neck. Abdul flipped him, crashed onto him with his full body weight. It was no use. Casey gave up and collapsed. Sweat poured off Abdul’s face right into Casey’s eyes. Casey slapped the mat to make it stop and Abdul let him go. Body odor wafted from sweaty armpits as the men applauded Abdul’s round one victory over Casey. “Want to go again?” Abdul asked. He was breathing hard. In spite of his win, the kid had been a lot tougher than he anticipated. His eye was swelling shut and his mouth was bleeding a little. “I can take it,” said Casey. His thin skin was red with mat burns, head was throbbing. Was this really him? It was as if he couldn’t control the truth coming out of his mouth. It all felt right. He could take it. He loved the pain, in fact. Loved it. But didn't really want to think about it for the moment. Abdul nodded, stepped back, retired to the corner of the ring. Pedro was there, pouring more oil. “Don’t need that. Massage my shoulders.” Pedro looked at him a little helplessly, his light kitchen fingers not nearly meaty enough to knead the dense muscle mass that was Abdul’s traps, but he tried. After a few seconds, Abdul brushed him away, irritated. “Never mind,” he barked. Pedro’s eyes flashed hurt, and Abdul brought himself up to smile at him slightly. “You tried.” He patted the handsome boy’s face heavily with thick oily fingers, leaving a gleaming handprint on Pedro’s cheek. Pedro beamed ecstatically. He so hoped he could suck his god’s cock later, but didn’t dare to ask. Abdul turned back into the ring. He called to Schumacher. "Get your ass over here and massage my shoulders," Schumacher grunted and went to work on him, kneading the bunched masses with his thick, powerful fingers. Casey was still center, dancing from foot to foot, not caring that his massive tool was bobbing out of his posers. “Lookin’ good, Case,” yelled Obatu from the sidelines. He turned to Washington, sitting next to him. “Know him from Raw Weight.” “Yeah, Miles’ place. Gotta get there again soon.” “Good workouts.” He winked. “A little cash to be made, too.” “Yeah? Doin’ what?” “You know. Trainin’. Getting’ big. Growing. Flexing. Getting your dick sucked. You know.” “Oh, yeah.” Casey didn't know. But he forgot about it in a moment. The whistle blew. “Round two!” announced Moster. Casey and Abdul stepped towards each other, circled, each more wary. On the sidelines, Alvarez glanced over at Lang. Lang’s pants were open, his zipper down, his cock tumbling out of his khakis. He happily worked his long, extra-thick shaft. He glanced up at Alvarez and shrugged. “It’s hot,” he said. Alvarez had to acknowledge it was. “So why not?” Alvarez nodded agreement, opened his fly, with some difficulty pulled out his own already-stiff, mammoth member, and began to chug up and down the shaft with practiced, heavily calloused fingers. Lang looked down, grinned, licked his lips, winked at Alvarez. “Pose and approve later?” “We’ll see.” Lang knew there would be. This was too hot not to follow up with a long pose and approve session and some good butt fucking. But for now, both musclemen turned back to the match and standing side by side, together worked their cocks in silent unison. Their fists plunging up and down. A moment later, Waring, Duncan, and McIntyre had joined them. “Oh, yeah,” said McIntyre. squish squish squish squish squish squish squish squish And a moment after that, Hension, Chad, Meyer and Gunst had pulled their heavy cocks from their khakis and were applying basic spank the monkey techniques. squish squish squish squish squish squish squish squish Moster heard the squishing sounds of numerous big cocks being worked by powerful, pumping fists, looked up, glancing askance at the group. “Begging your pardon sir!” yelled out Hension. “We’re masturbating, sir!” “And why not?” said Moster, but he kept his cock in his pants. Still, out it poled. “Bring it, bitch!” yelled Casey as the two faced off in the center of the mat. “C’mon dude, we wrestlin’ or dancin’? Take a shot!” Abdul taunted. Both men seemed either oblivious to or uninterested in the fact that all around them, every man on the muscle squad was now actively jerking off. Casey shot out a lightning fast single leg. Abdul hopped over it and tried to pivot as Casey dove in, wrapped meaty arms around Abdul’s waist, and brought him violently down to the mat. Somehow Abdul flipped to his belly and Casey applied a painful hammerlock with one hand as he grabbed the back of his head with the other and rubbed his face in the mat. “How’s that mat taste?” Casey asked as Abdul grunted, struggling to turn his head to the side. On the sidelines, Pedro was frantic, seeing his big man suddenly so disgraced, however momentarily. Abdul tried to get off his stomach, but Casey slid his bulging quads down inside Abdul’s and drove his arm underneath his chin. Casey rolled onto his side and poured on the pressure. “Arrgghhhh!” Abdul groaned as Casey stretched him out. Pedro looked on, helpless with worry. “Ya like that, tough guy? Want some more?” Casey murmured between clenched teeth said as he pulled up harder on his chin, Casey totally wrapped around him. Abdul was completely immobilized. He groaned. “C’mon Abdul, you can take this!” Schumacher yelled. He too was now playing with himself freely. Lang, firing away on his stiff-as-iron cock, was laughing. “Put him on his back, Case! Finish him off.” Casey’s posers crept deep into his ass crack as he locked his legs around Abdul’s left leg. His rock hard glutes squeezed together as he wore the huge Turk down. Abdul tried to get free of Casey’s chin lock, but it was no use. He panted and groaned as Casey pulled his head down. “Got some lube?” asked Chad from the second row. The source was surprising. “Here,” said Schumacher, passing around tubes of the prime VALHALLA LABS signature cock-pumping oil. “Gift from the house.” “When did we start making this stuff?” asked Hension, looking down at the tube as he squeezed the warm lubricant onto his thick cockshaft. “Shut the fuck up,” said Lefevre, but he grinned good-naturedly, clapping Hension lightly on the back of the head. On the mat, Abdul suddenly switched it all out. He pried Casey’s hands from the chin lock and sank his arm around Casey’s neck, pulling him down to the mat and now choking him out. His drove his ankles down deep into Casey’s quads and he began to constrict his hold around his neck. Sweat poured off both men. The strong smells of perspiration, olive oil and butt wafted up into the overhead lights. It was now Casey’s turn again to groan in pain. Abdul’s powerful forearm was wrapped around his thick neck. Moster jumped into the ring, sticking his head into his face and asked Casey if he was ready to give up. Casey was grunting and struggling to breathe. Casey was unable to say the words I give. “Too soon,” he breathed out from under Abdul’s body mass. “Loosen up, man,” Moster said to Abdul, who nodded. Abdul loosened the hold so Casey could breathe, but he wasn’t done. Casey tried to get up, but Abdul still was controlling him. Then Abdul reached down and once again slid his hand down into Casey’s now-ripped posers. Casey looked angered as Abdul grabbed onto his thick cock. He handed off the poser to his foot, and peeled Casey’s poser down revealing the muscleboy’s huge penis. “In Turkish oil wrestling rules, the match is now over,” muttered Gunst from the sidelines, watching the mass of slippery muscle tumble on the mats. He rubbed the bulge in his pants, and glanced down. Straight up and out, past the belt line, up into his t-shirt, poling up above his belly. He unzipped and released his mass. “We done?” breathed Abdul. “No!” yelled Casey, now naked. “Naw, it’s way better than Turkish wrestling,” whispered Blankenship, now fondling his own stiff penis, still sheathed in khaki. Gunst looked him quizzically. “I like how it feels in my pants.” “Oh. Oh, yeah. Me too. Sometimes.” Gunst began pumping. “But not now.” Around the ring, all cocks were pumped a little more fiercely as the match intensified. “Okay then. We go for a pin.” Abdul moved his hand up to Casey’s head, rubbing it in his hair to get some sweat for lubricant. Then he came back rubbing Casey’s cock until it was rock solid. Out it poled, 12 inches and more. “Whatcha gonna do about it this time?” he sneered. The 17 bodybuilders were now all leaning in and pumping hard cocks, watching the sweaty jumble of muscle on the mat. Even Schumacher was now pumping furiously. As was Tiffany. For once the self-possessed little muscleboy let his guard down. He worked his cock ferociously, watching the dark match. “They’re pretty even,” said Warning. “Yeah,” said Chad. Next to him on the left, Obatu and Washington looked as if they were about to get up. A light flickered in Lang’s eye. Hension looked wildly around him. He was going to cum soon. Moster directed them all warningly, knowing where they were likely to go next. “Stay where you are, gents. No cumming. Men can hold it.” General moans. The men did as they were told. The wrestling room was silent except for the grunts of Casey and Abdul, the near-silent whirring of Dr. Irving’s video cam, the blue-balled moans and groans of the fleet of masturbating muscle giants, with the squeaky wet regular tattoo of lubricated palms working big cocks. Squish squish squish GRUNT GROANNNN squish squish squish squish squish squish “I SAID, DO NOT CUM!” Moster shouted suddenly. All jumped in their seats. “A man can withstand it!” All sat. 17 monster muscle cocks with nowhere to go but into calloused palms. For now. Up and down. Up and down. “Hey, Chad!” whispered Bogarde loudly. “Squeeze my nips!” Chad reached over to his right with his free hand (the other feverishly pumping his cock) and began violently tweaking Bogarde’s huge, downward-pointing think nipples. “Yeah, make me hurt, man!” Bogarde pleaded, working his cock. “You got it, man.” Squish squish squish UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. squish squish squish squish squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. Suddenly Abdul flipped, keeping his hold on Casey, who squirmed below. Casey was on his back now with Abdul on top, now in the north-south position. All Casey could see was Abdul’s bulging balls and the red singlet outline of his rigid cockshaft. Abdul lowered his balls onto Casey’s face and caught his head in between his legs. But Casey somehow spread his legs and reclamped behind Abdul’s neck. The two muscle monsters squeezed each other tight, rubbing crotches in each other’s face. Casey’s enormous penis brushed Abdul’s scratchy beard. “Ouch!” Casey cried. Finally Abdul broke the hold and swung around to face Casey, getting him in one of his killer headlocks. Once again, Casey was in trouble. But he managed to dig an elbow into Abdul’s groin. Abdul shouted and Casey pried himself free, stood, and turned. He lunged full weight at Abdul. Abdul was ready for him, grabbing his shoulders and shoving Casey’s face right into his and applying a submission hold. For a moment, they looked into each other’s eyes. Then Abdul drove Casey’s shoulders into the mat. “Ughhhh,” Casey moaned. Abdul had mounted him and was driving his elbow into his head. It was momentary. Casey flopped in his own sweat a moment, and then, with surprising swiftness, changed course, wrapping his hands behind Abdul’s neck and pulling him in toward his chest. He wrapped his legs tight around Abdul’s body and grunted as he started to gain control. Abdul and Casey slid around the mat, slipping out of each other holds as they tried desperately to get a submission out of each other. Suddenly, Casey managed to climb on Abdul’s back and slip his arm under his chin. His stiff cock slapped against his abs. “Shit!” Abdul yelled as Casey secured the choke. Casey squeezed harder. Suddenly Abdul was struggling to breathe. His face was beet red. And suddenly, it was over. Abdul slapped the mat furiously and Casey released his grip. He let out a whoop. He grabbed Abdul by the hair and lifted his head up, using his other arm to flex his biceps. Fast as a flash, Abdul grabbed his hand and twisted his wrist, ensuring Casey’s victory was a brief one – but it was too late. The image had been captured in the men’s brains. “Aweesummmm,” breathed Hension, once again, and to no one in particular. “Wait till I call it!” yelled Moster. “Fuck you,” said Abdul. He hunched back on his knees and locked Casey up in a kneeling position, pressing his slippery forehead into his and looking into his eyes. They panted for breath. Once again, as if alerted by a bugle charge, both suddenly sprang once again into action. Abdul managed to get a headlock on Casey and threw him to the mat. His cock slapped against his leg as Casey tried to turn to avoid getting pinned. Both were so sweaty and slick with the now hot oil that neither could get a good hold. The mat was an ocean of steaming sweat and oil, both men sliding in the mass of liquid. In the circle of chairs around the wrestling ring, the bodybuilders pumped their blood-engorged cocks feverishly. On the mat, Casey freed a hand and ripped Abdul’s singlet wide open. The Turk was enraged. His cock spilled onto the mat. Pedro leaned forward now openly licking his lips. “Please let us cum, sir!” pleaded Hension. “Okay…..guess I’ll play, too,” said Moster, studiedly lazily. He advanced into the center of the ring where the two muscle monsters lay, locked in sinew, sweat, and bronzed oil, their huge cocks flailing openly. “Men, why don’t you join me?” Moster smiled. He only had to ask once. In a heartbeat the 17 bodybuilders bolted from the chairs, clambering over one another and the rings to get to the center of the ring. Still, they waited breathlessly, cocks in hand, no one daring to make a further move. Abdul shot a look of helpless rage up to Moster, but Casey was holding him firm. Neither man could budge. squish squish squish squish GOOSH squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. And Moster unzipped. The largest black cock in the world poured out of his pants, flopping down to his knees. FLOPppp… In a second it was poled high, reaching nipple level. Moster grabbed it with his fist and slid his hands down it just three times. squish squish squish squish GOOSH squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. “I’m ready,” he said quietly. The bodybuilders circled the wrestlers, side by side. Casey stared at the huge, pendulous looming cocks above him, heavy dew drops of precum beginning to drip, oozing into the mass of mat liquid in which the two musclemen lolled in their struggles. It was as if it was the first time he had even noticed what the men were up to. “What are they doing??” he cried out to Moster. “What’s it look like, punk?” growled Abdul in his ear. Moster ignored him. “Pedro,” Moster invited graciously, “why don’t you get over here and join us?” Pedro didn’t have to be asked twice. He scampered gleefully into the circle, a little beautiful brown spot of handsome teenhood amidst a turbulent ocean of masturbating musclemen. He pulled out his own pretty little cock and began to pump fiercely, gleefully, staring hungrily at the huge muscle and looming penises all around him. After only a moment, he couldn’t stand being surrounded by the sea of cock without getting to his knees and starting to suck his way around the circle, feverishly. He started with Gunst, his pretty little mouth enveloping the massive organ. From the sidelines Dr. Irving began to walk rapidly behind the circle of men, panning his cam across the landscape of their solid glutes, huge, hard and round, squeezing and relaxing in tense, pumping cannonballs of butt muscle as they pumped their cocks feverishly. Backs of heads. Batwing lat spreads of knitted boulders of muscle. Delts touching. Hamstrings pounding with thick rivers of veins. Butts pumping. Irving got it all on cam. Someday he knew this video would be worth thousands….hundreds of thousands. He captured it all. From the mat below, Casey gazed up, exhausted and confused, bewildered and amazed at a sea of musclecock held high above him. Abdul merely growled. In a few seconds the waterfalls of cum would begin. He couldn’t admit to himself that he had wanted something like this to happen. “What’re they gonna do?” asked Casey, fearfully, muffled. Hmmmm, thought Moster as he pumped his organ. The white cap is wearing off. Probably from the match. If it was still in him, he’d have no problem. Still, it didn’t stop anything. The bodybuilders were groaning loudly now, pumping and flexing, rocking ball-toe-heel, their magnificently bodies undulating rhythmically. “Let ‘er rip!” Moster, now pumping furiously, looked to Dr. Irving, who had never stopped the video, nor moved. “You getting it all?” “Of course,” said Irving, irritated, shocked, perplexed and baffled as always - but never daring to shut down the cam. He could never understand what all this had to do with science, but never mind. He was well paid. “Muthafucker!” Hension screamed. “You boys about ready to shoot?” Moster asked. “Hang on. They ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” said Abdul. He squeezed Casey’s head as hard as he could. It wasn’t too long before Casey wriggled out of it and was on his hands and knees facing him. He came in at Abdul and tried to push him over onto his back, but the muscle Turk reached behind him and sunk his fingers right into Casey’s exposed anus. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Casey cried as Abdul used his rectum as a handle to flip him over. He slammed on his back on the mat. An ocean spray of sweat and oil sloshed into the air. And around them the squishing sounds of muscle jerking grew more frantic. “Oh, maaaaa—aaaan,” said Hension. “Hold off, men!” shouted Moster. "Santa mierda de Dios,” breathed Pedro, now frantically licking Obatu’s cock up and down its 12-inch length. Obatu’s pumping fist was punching him repeatedly in the nose. He didn’t care. He held the cock between his lips and sucked hard. Precum began to spurt down his throat. Squish squish squish UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. GOOOsh squish squish GOOOsh groannnn Ugh unnnghh squish squish squish squish squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. Casey and Abdul were in a mad final scramble now. Both knew the match was coming to an end. Abdul was enraged he somehow didn’t have the conditioning to go a full hour with Casey; it had only been 12 to 15 minutes in the ring, and no more – and he was wiped out. For his part, Casey was panting deeply and hot as a furnace, pushed to the max. And yet. And yet. Abdul knew Casey could outlast him. Casey, however much he might be forever on the bottom tonight, yet had a couple of hours of strength to go. It was only that he lacked the fighting technique Abdul had hard earned over the years. And this enraged the Turk. Abdul got behind Casey and sunk his arms between his legs, locking onto his other arm and driving his biceps into Casey’s balls. Abdul’s forearm pressed painfully against his thick penis. Casey couldn’t take it. He had to move, giving him enough space to maneuver. Dirty Turkish wrestling. Casey managed to get a “Fuck you”, but he was outclassed, totally helpless and defeated. “I gotta suck cock!” Lang shouted, and dove down in front of Alvarez. In a flash Alvarez’s meat was in his mouth, sluicing juicily down his throat. “Me too,” muttered Hension, who dropped down in front of Gunst. He bobbed and weaved with the mighty strokes Gunst was applying to his huge cock, ducking his head, trying to get his mouth around it. “Shit,” said Gunst. With his right hand he backhandedly smacked Hension’s face hard, grabbed the back of his head, clenched a handful of hair; with his left hand he clutched his cock and rammed it down Hension’s throat. Hension began to violently suck muscle giant’s firehouse cock while working his own and never taking his eyes off the grappling musclemen on the mat. Abdul had Casey’s legs now, lifting him up so Casey was upside down, sliding down Abdul’s back till his head hit the mat and he was facing his ass. His nose went right into Abdul’s exposed ass crack for a minute while the Turk kept tilting his head back to put pressure on Casey’s balls. But Casey rallied. Groaning, straining, working hard, he trapped Abdul’s head in a figure 4, squeezing his face right into his balls as he pinned him. “Yer so eager to see my cock, so get an eyeful of it now,” he hissed. Abdul tried to snarl back, but he could only groan. He was getting tired. And the muscleboy had hours of energy ahead of him. He could feel it. Moster had a hard time seeing if the Turk was pinned or not, the men were so wrapped up in an oily mass of muscled quads, rippling traps, batwing lats, boulder biceps, brick-like abs, pounding glutes, pounding feet, pounding fists, and bulging balls. But it wasn’t looking so good for the Turk. UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. The squad, now in deep sex frenzy, was by now beyond observing the details of combat. Blankenship and Waring had each dropped to their knees, sucking the heavy, veiny cocks of Chad and Washington. Schumacher grabbed Meyer, flipped him around, pulled down his khakis, and plunged his cock mercilessly into his welcoming butthole as the handsome deaf mute played gleefully with his engorged manhood. He began to fuck him with deep and powerful strokes. Meyer smiling ecstatically and waved his mighty butt under the cock blows. He reached back and pried his buttcheeks wide. His asshole was as open as he could get it. He spread his legs. Schumacher’s thick cock was in action, driving, pounding, fucking. Squish squish squish fuckfuckfuck UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. Moster could see where it was headed on the mat. Abdul had taken the first two pins. But Casey was just getting started. He was mad now. The effect of the white caps was weaving in and out, true, and Casey was responding as if he was on mushrooms. But his huge muscles were gleaming with power. Every vein was bursting. Sweat was pouring off both men. And Abdul was breathing hard. But he still had the upper hand. Still, Moster pumped harder. He had to admit: this was pretty hot. Pedro looked at him adoringly, moved to take Moster’s cock in his mouth. Moster pushed him back roughly. “Get away, son,” he barked. Pedro looked frightened and abashed. Moster smiled slightly, an eyebrow arched. “You being a bad boy? Might have to tan your hide later,” he murmured. Pedro looked hopeful but the fear still glistened slightly. He glanced down at Moster’s powerful fist, now stroking his massive meat up and down, up and down. “Your hand could kill my butt!” he squeaked. “Not your butt, little boy. Not yours. Now get out of my way. Go suck Private Duncan’s cock.” Moster tossed a glance at Duncan, who was busily working his dick. Pedro scampered away, ran to Duncan, and knelt before him. “The C.O. says I have to suck your cock,” he cried out, and gathered the mighty pole into his mouth. Duncan was startled. “Okay,” he said. “Don’t mind.” Pedro knelt and went right to work on Duncan’s massive tool. He was particularly excited by the latticework of heavy veins surrounding the muscleman’s member. He began to trace his finger along the thick rivers of vascularity as he sucked. Duncan spread his legs wide. He grabbed Pedro’s black hair in his fist and began to steadily pump his hips into the boy’s face. On the mat, more spent than he wanted to admit, Casey stared up at the circle of musclemen above and around him. Four of the musclemen were sucking musclecock now. The little Mexican teenager was scampering about sucking musclecocks as they were freed up. Schumacher was fucking the cute little muscleguy’s awesome glutes. The other 7 musclemen were straddling the mat edges now, massive quads akimbo, pumping serious cock. And the CO Sergeant Moster had his cock out, too. It was the biggest penis Casey had ever seen in his life. Even bigger than his own. Which was huge. As he stared, he lost focus. And in a flash, Abdul had flipped him again and was straddling his pecs with his own huge body and pressing for an advantage. Casey couldn’t move. The sounds of musclesex filled the wrestling room. On the sidelines, Dr. Irving was capturing it all on video. GOOOsh squish slurp suck suck slurp squish GOOOsh groannnn SUCKSUCK LICK SLURP fuckkkk Casey grunted. A surge of energy hit him. He tried a duck under, but Abdul kept the upper hand. As he went down to his knees on the mat, Casey kept his left arm welded to the Turk’s shoulder, pulling out to his side and anchoring his right hand deep in his anus. “Turkish rules, right?” Casey snarled into Abdul’s ear, beginning to chew on the lobe. He was back in control again. The Turk let out a short gasp as he felt Casey’s index finger work up into his asshole, a big grin on his face. Abdul wanted to smash those perfect teeth in, but he was too busy trying to pry the muscle giant kid’s finger out of his butthole. With a sudden rush of White Cap adrenaline, Casey moved his right arm around Abdul’s waist, mounted him and broke him down so his belly was flat on the mat. He managed a gut wrench and turned him over once, but he was too tough and was able to counter Casey’s leverage with his strength. Moster knew he had to step in. He couldn’t afford to have Abdul so badly defeated. Not yet. Not at the outset of Casey’s career. Sure, Casey Rockland was a muscle outlier. There may never have been a muscleman like him before, and there may not be another again. But it was too soon for the legend to emerge. For the good of the program, Casey had to lose tonight. And it didn’t look as if he was going to. So Moster did the one thing he could do, to save Abdul’s neck. Moster blew the whistle and reached in. He grabbed them both by the scruffs of their necks and powerfully brought them up to their knees. Casey was stunned, dizzy, swirling with confusion and excitement and pain and frenzy all at once. Abdul’s rage was huge but not huge enough to allow his own massive tool to go limp. Both muscle monsters were sporting huge erections. And the men around them were pumping and sucking and fucking furiously. Ugh unnnghh groan moan slurp suck squish squish squish slurp suck suck squish squish squish AH AHH AHHHHHH yeah yeah yeah UNNNGHHHH AAAAHHHHHH!!!! Moster stepped forward, grabbed his mighty cock, knelt down next to the knotted figures of muscle, and began to shoot cum in the Turk’s face. SPURT! BLAST!! AAAHHH YEAH!!! Gallons of gobs of white creamy cum shot maniacally from his deeply creased piss slit. And the biggest cock in the world, on the biggest bodybuilder in the world, began to throb and spurt hot liquid rivers of jism onto the Turk’s face. “FUCKING HELL!” roared Abdul. ‘GODDAMN YOU MOSTER!!!” And the cum spilled, coating his roaring face, filling his mouth and nostrils, dripping down his chin. Moster was aiming it, like a firehose. “On the Turk, men!” he shouted. And with that…all hell let loose.
  9. Ncgazza

    Simply Winning

    Below is my new story. I've been quite busy so it's taken me a little while to get this out... but here you go. It is my own take on the Bully revenge story... with a twist. I got the idea when a friend of mine visited an herbalist to assist with his low sperm count. The rest I just imagined after working out. Hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think!! Thanks. Simply Winning Justin has seen the storefront hundreds of times on Charing Cross Road, but had never thought about entering it until the downpour of rain made it a requirement. It had been pissing down all week, a common March occurrence in London, and one that Justin was usually always prepared for. He just never had expected Gavin to take the umbrella right from his hand and stroll away. Justin had worked for the same accounting firm for the past fifteen years, and although he found it possibly the most boring of careers, it fit who he was. Maybe Justin was not the most exciting person, and maybe he might follow the same routine day in and day art, but he was a good person and had a big heart. When Gavin joined the firm last year, Justin saw his whole world change, and not for the better. The younger, larger, and more boisterous man appeared to enjoy making Justin’s life hell. It started small: pens would disappear from his desk, files were moved, his rubbish bin would be tipped over, and salt would be put in his tea if he walked away from it. They were all harmless, and no one would admit it was Gavin, but Justin knew it was. Then the attack’s got worst: clients would be given to Gavin when they were rightfully Justin’s, the personal assistant that they had once shared soon became Gavin’s alone, the hard drive on his computer had been wiped clean three times, and now today, Gavin was given the promotion to partner that was rightfully Justin’s. When Justin had confronted Mr. Webber, the founder, the excuse he had been given was that Gavin was a much more self confident man, and that impressed clients. They felt assured in his presence. Sure, Justin was great and they were happy with his work, but Gavin just brought something extra... more confidence... a spark. Justin couldn’t argue with this. In fact, He agreed with this description. Gavin was more confidant then Justin. He did have a spark. He should!! Gavin had an athletic build where Justin was slender... Gavin had thick brown hair where Justin was thinning on top, going grey, and couldn’t grow a beard at 40... Gavin was tall where Justin was short, and Gavin exuded sex appeal where Justin has none. The two men just couldn’t compare. Justin knew Gavin would always win; that was the way the world worked. These were the thoughts spiralling through Justin’s head as he opened his umbrella to go grab lunch. He usually brought his lunch everyday, but he had woken up late and forgot it as he ran for the bus, so today he would just have to treat himself. It had been raining all day, and it appeared to be coming down harder now then ever. He was just about to head out into the downpour when a hand grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. He looked up to see Gavin standing next to him. ⁃ I’ve got a lunch date, mate. Justin just stared at him wondering what that had to do with him. He realised what when Gavin grabbed the umbrella and began walking down the street with it. ⁃ Thanks, mate! He called back to Justin with a small wave, leaving him alone. Justin thought about going back to his desk and not having anything for lunch, but he was so angry, and didn’t want to give Gavin the satisfaction of seeing him run back inside. Also, he did need to buy another umbrella... Justin’s short walk up Charing Cross Road on his quest for lunch and an umbrella couldn’t have been more miserable. The rain proceeded to come down harder and harder, and the wind was blowing it all in his face. Of course, a bus roared down the street, throwing water and mud onto him, soaking his shoes and trousers. Each block that he walked got him wetter until Justin simply couldn’t take it anymore, and ducked into what he thought was a used bookstore. Instead, it was the Chinese herbalists Justin passed by everyday. As the water puddled around him, Justin looked at the many posters that cluttered the wall advertising a better life through reflexology, or medicinal tea, or acupuncture. Among the many claims were pictures of the human body and how their ailments could be cured easily. The most impressive object in the whole place, undoubtedly, was the immense wall stacked with drawers, labels announcing the many herbs that were hidden inside. ⁃ Can I help you? A man of around 60 or 70 entered from a back room-with a teacup. He looked Justin up and down and smiled. ⁃ Trying to get out of the rain? ⁃ Yeah... I...kind of lost my umbrella. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I’m sorry... I’m drenching your floor. ⁃ Easily dried! Come. Take a seat. I just made some tea. ⁃ No really... that’s okay... ⁃ Sit!! Sit!! I’ll be right back. The older man ducked into the back room and began fumbling around for a second teacup as Justin sat on the white hard-back chair. Within moments, he was back and had deposited the cup in Justin’s hands. The tea smelt spicy and refreshing and after a sip, Justin knew this was exactly what he needed to make him feel human again. God, he thought... I really am English if a simple cuppa could cure all of my problems. Not realising it, Justin smiled at the man. ⁃ What? ⁃ No... Nothing. Thank you so much for this, Mister... ⁃ Huang. ⁃ Huang. I really appreciate it. It’s been a rough day. ⁃ I understand completely. ⁃ This is really very good... your own blend? ⁃ Fortnum and Mason. ⁃ Right. Jason and Mr. Huang sat in silence for a few minutes drinking their tea. As was custom, and to keep his hands busy, Mr Huang began sorting some of the herbs that sat on the desk into paper packets. ⁃ So, those herbs are better then Western medicine? ⁃ Much better. Western medicine has learned a lot from the east, but unfortunately don’t give us the credit we deserve. ⁃ It must be healthier... being all natural. ⁃ Much better for you, much better for the environment, and much better using what the Earth created for us. You take vitamin every day? ⁃ Yes. ⁃ This here... this combination is much better then any vitamin you find in a store. Take it. ⁃ I couldn’t. ⁃ Take it! It’s a present. ⁃ Thank you. How do you... ⁃ Dissolve one packet in warm water each morning and drink. ⁃ I’ll try it. I never like taking tablets anyway. ⁃ Cure all of your problems. ⁃ I wish!! ⁃ You never know. What ails you? Maybe I can help. ⁃ You’ve helped enough already. This tea was perfect. Now, I really should be getting back to work. Justin stood and handed the teacup to Mr. Huang. ⁃ Thank you for the vitamins. ⁃ My pleasure. Are you sure there isn’t anything else you need? ⁃ Unless you could give me a complete over haul, I’m happy with this... and the name of the tea. This time Mr. Huang smiled. ⁃ Ginger and Sicilian Lemon Infusion. ⁃ Wonderful. I’ll need to stop in and get some. Have a great day, Mr. Huang. ⁃ And you. Justin opened the door, but stopped when Mr. Huang called out to him. ⁃ How much of a complete overhaul do you need? ⁃ Believe me! I need everything done. The small man quickly ran around the desk and closed the door before Justin could open it further. ⁃ Sit down. Sit down. Let’s talk. ⁃ I really need to be going. ⁃ You want an overhaul... I can give you an overhaul. Now, what do you need? Mr Huang sat down, removed a pad and paper, and began writing. ⁃ Honestly, I probably just need a psychiatrist. ⁃ That can help...yes... ⁃ I’m bothered by this guy at work. He took my promotion. ⁃ I see. ⁃ Maybe he deserved it... I don’t know. ⁃ Big jerk? ⁃ Everyone loves him. ⁃ Everyone except you. ⁃ Exactly. I think he’s an asshole. ⁃ Right. ⁃ He’s perfect. He’s athletic, has great hair, straight teeth, perfect completion... ⁃ Right... As Justin spoke Mr. Huang began writing more and more on the pad. ⁃ What else? Go on. ⁃ He’s just simply perfect. That’s it. That’s all I can say. ⁃ And you’re not. ⁃ Please!! ⁃ If you could have what you want... what would it be? ⁃ I don’t think you can give me a new body. ⁃ Humor me. Justin looked at the man and finally took him in. Mr Huang was just as slight as he was. Mr Huang wasn’t balding, but was grey haired. Mr Huang didn’t have a very muscular built. Maybe he would understand. ⁃ I just want to win, Mr. Huang. One day I’d just love to win. ⁃ I can do that. ⁃ Can you? Mr. Huang put down his pen and looked at Justin. ⁃ My wife and I have been married for 48 years. ⁃ Congratulations. ⁃ For the first five, we tried to have children. No luck. We tried and tried. Nothing. She went to the doctor and had many tests. She was healthy as a horse. I went to the doctor and discovered I was the cause of our problems. Low sperm count. I cried to my father who was an herbalist before me. He made me a tea that solved all of my problems... maybe too well. Mr. Huang stood up and in front of Justin grabbed the large penis that lay hidden in his trousers. ⁃ In one day I grew six inches, and my testicles were as strong as an oxen. Four weeks later, my wife was pregnant with our first child. ⁃ Wow. ⁃ I have eight total. ⁃ Wow!!! You really are a stud! ⁃ My wife can’t keep her hands off it. ⁃ Well, I’d definitely want one of those!! ⁃ Of course!!! Mr. Huang went back to writing, sure that his story had opened a door. A few moments later, he knew that it had. ⁃ All my life I just wanted to be big. Muscular. Hairy. A real mans man. You know those guys. ⁃ Of course. ⁃ They ooze testosterone and walk with a swagger and get every guy or girl in the room, ⁃ Guy? ⁃ I’m gay. ⁃ And you have a partner? ⁃ No, but I’d love one. And with that between my legs I bet I’d have a lot of them. Both men laughed. ⁃ Seriously, if you could give me just that, I’d be happy. ⁃ A partner? ⁃ No. A bigger penis! ⁃ Ah! Right! Of course! Describe your ideal man. ⁃ Tall... hairy... muscular... self-assured, simply takes up the room. ⁃ That’s what you’d want for yourself? ⁃ For me? I thought you meant for a partner. ⁃ No. If you could build the perfect you, what would it be? Humour me. ⁃ Honestly, all that and more. Not just tall, really tall. Not just muscular, huge. Not just big down there... simply massive. ⁃ I think I understand. Mr Huang got up and for the next ten minutes, Justin watched as he removed herbs from different drawers, measured them, put some in a packet, and put the rest away. Everything he did was so precise and with such thought. Several times, he would stop, think, look at Justin, and then run and grab some additional herbs from another box. When he was nearly finished, he stopped what he was doing. ⁃ When you heat water to make tea, how do you do it at your house? ⁃ In an electric kettle. ⁃ Okay. I just need to factor that electricity into how potent this mixture is. Mr. Huang added more of one herb to the packet and removed a little of another. When he was finished, he approached Justin with what looked like a large tea bag. ⁃ Now...this is very simple. After work, you will go home. You will get undressed. You will heat a mug full of water in your electric kettle and you will bring it to a complete boil. You will place this sachet into the mug and pour the boiling water over it leaving only a pinch of room. You will set the timer on your phone for three minutes. In three minutes, you will remove the tea bag. Do not ring it out. Just remove. Then you will drink the tea while it is still hot. Do not drink it cold. Drink it all down. I promise it will taste awful. Tomorrow morning you come back here and tell me how it went. ⁃ That’s it? ⁃ That’s it. ⁃ And this should... ⁃ It will. I promise. ⁃ How much do I owe you? ⁃ Come back tomorrow and tell me how much it was worth. That’s what you’ll pay me. ⁃ Thank you so much... for everything. Even if this doesn’t work, you don’t know how much I appreciate your kindness. ⁃ It will work. Have faith. For once you are going to win. Despite the rain, Justin walked back to work with a smile and a spring in his step. Perhaps what Mr. Huang had proposed could be the answer to all of his problems. He did say his cock had grown six inches just from drinking a tea, and what reason would he have to lie? He hadn’t asked for any money, and he had been nothing but nice since the moment Justin had walked in his door. No. Justin had faith in the old man. Taking the plastic bag Mr. Huang had placed the large teabag in from his coat pocket, Justin smiled thinking of all that his future could hold for him. Opening up the plastic bag, Justin smelled it. It smelt sharp and earthy. It was a good smell. A strong smell. This is how Gavin must smell after a hard workout, he thought, taking another deep inhalation. Makes me want to lick his pits... his chest... Justin found he was getting hard simply from aroma of the teabag. I’m going to win, he thought. Justin was beginning to grow impatient with his watch as the time moved slowly to 4:00 pm. Soon, he thought. One more hour and I can go home and see if this works how I imagine. Justin smelled the inside of the baggie again and couldn’t help getting hard from the aroma. ⁃ Justin... Mr. Webber would like to see you in his office regarding the Cuan audit scheduled for next week. ⁃ Thanks, Angela. I’ll be right in. Justin grabbed the files and his laptop and spent the next hour and fifteen minutes going over the most boring and mundane of audits. It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter that his life was boring. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t gotten the promotion. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t bought an umbrella and would have to walk to his bus in the rain. No, what mattered is that tonight he would drink that tea and tomorrow he would be the man he always wanted to be. With a slight skip in his step, he walked back to his desk, set the laptop and files down, and felt all of the colour drain from his face as he realised the baggie was gone. Frantically looking in his coat pocket, under his desk, and in the drawers, Justin began to panic. Where could it be? His phone rang. ⁃ Hello? ⁃ Can I see you in my new office, Justin? It was Gavin. ⁃ I don’t think... ⁃ Now. ⁃ Of course. Justin felt a cold dread as he walked down the silent hall to Gavin’s office. It was after five and most of the staff had gone home. ⁃ Come in and close the door. Justin did as he was told. Gavin stared at him with a smile on his face, and before him sat a mug. No... it wasn’t a mug. It was bigger then that... enough to hold two cups of tea. ⁃ Have a seat. Justin did. ⁃ I felt it was important to talk about your future... under me. I... one second. I’m suddenly quite parched. Gavin lifted the huge mug in his hand. ⁃ One of the first things I need for you to do is order teabags. It seems we’re all out. ⁃ Wait! ⁃ What? ⁃ Please don’t do this. ⁃ Do what? ⁃ Don’t drink that. ⁃ Drink this? Gavin looked at the mug in his hand and then at Justin. ⁃ I’m doing this to make a point, Justin. You’ve kept me waiting nearly an hour since I made it. Can you believe that this tea has sat for nearly 55 minutes... but I’m a patient man. I knew sooner or later we would sit down and chat... I waited so long. In fact, by the time you got out of your meeting...this cheap teabag had completely disintegrated leaving loose tea behind, but it doesn’t matter. No. What matters is the point. See, Webber felt pity when you cried on his shoulder, and he wants me to mentor you... groom you to assist me. Can you imagine that? You assisting me? I don’t need any assistance... well Angela did assist me in microwaving this to make it good as new, and now... now I’m ready to finally make my point. I don’t need any assistance... SIP ⁃ You should start looking for another position as soon as possible... SIP ⁃ God, This tastes like shit!!! I don’t need losers on my team. SIP ⁃ I will always get what I want. Always!! Justin watched in horror as Gavin lifted the large mug to his lips, and in eight huge gulps, drank the entirety of what closely resembled sludge down. Gavin even went so far as licking the entire mug clean, swallowing any residual herbs that might have remained. Smiling at Justin with a cocky grin, he proceeded to pick bits of herb out of his teeth. ⁃ Do you understand, Justin?? Do you understand the point I just made? Gavin stood up and crossed over to the window. As Gavin walked, Justin could hear the tea sloshing in his stomach. ⁃ That was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted, mate. I fuckin hate herbal tea. It’s for fuckin pansies. Next time bring in some Earl Grey. Fuck!! Gavin opened the window and leaned his head against it, breathing in the cool rainy air. ⁃ Are you okay? ⁃ I’m fine!! Just drank that shit too fast. It was still hot. Gavin belched and belched again. Scratching his face, Gavin turned around, faced Justin, and benched a third time. ⁃ Much better!! Exactly what I needed! ⁃ I think I should go. ⁃ Don’t be ridiculous. We’re just getting to know each other!! Gavin scratched his face again, and then his stomach. ⁃ I want you to take tomorrow off. Tell Webber you’re ill. You might as well take home all of your shit since you actually won’t be coming back. Gavin scratched his right arm, then his left, and then his stomach again. As he continued to speak, he intermittently continued to scratch himself. ⁃ On Monday, you’ll tell Webber that it will probably be for the best if you didn’t return. I’ll tell him that you deserve a six month severance package... for all that you’ve contributed... which I’m sure he’ll agree to. I’ll... I’ll... Gavin stumbled a little and proceeded to lean against the desk. ⁃ …rooms spinning... Justin jumped up from his chair and went over to Gavin. ⁃ Maybe you should sit down... ⁃ GET YOUR FUCKIN HANDS OFF OF ME!! Justin could only watch in awe as hair began to erupt from Gavin’s face until he had the darkest five o’clock shadow he had ever seen. Gavin began to scratch even more now, pacing around the office. ⁃ FUCK!! It feels like someone’s sticking needles in my entire body. What the fuck are you looking at? ⁃ You’re... You’re face... ⁃ What about it? Gavin moved his hand to his face, and for the first time recognised that he had suddenly grown more then a days growth of hair. It was more like three days of growth... and as he crossed and looked at his reflection in the window... four days. Gavin moved closer to the window and took in a giant gulp of air, watching as slowly the hair growing on his face was gaining length and body. He rubbed his hands through the growth and Justin could only believe he was marvelling at how it felt. In less then five minutes, Gavin Costa had the beginnings of a beard growing on his face. Looking down at his hands, Gavin saw that they were also getting a covering of dark hair. Panicking, Gavin ripped off his shirt and tie and stood half naked in front of Justin. Gavin could only look on in shock as his chest, stomach, and arms also joined in on the sudden influx of hair growth. Gavin continued itching himself like crazy, but Justin suddenly realised he didn’t look angry anymore. It was obvious to Justin that it itched like crazy as it grew in, but apparently, Gavin couldn’t be happier. In fact, Gavin had a wide grin plastered on his face. Within minutes, his five o’clock shadow had developed into a proper three weeks worth of growth. Gavin could now run his hands through the beard and tug at it! His chest also had a thick pelt growing on it, traveling down to his crotch. ⁃ What was in that tea? ⁃ I... ummm... I.., ⁃ What the FUCK was in that tea???!!! ⁃ It was from this herbalist… ⁃ It’s supposed to be doing this? ⁃ I guess… ⁃ You guess??? ⁃ I just... Gavin grabbed Justin by his suit jacket and began to roughly shake him. ⁃ What was in that tea??!! ⁃ It was supposed to make me more of a man. ⁃ Really??!! What the fuck is it gonna do to me?? Gavin threw Justin back into the chair and continued wandering around the room. Justin did wonder what it was going to do to Gavin. He had broken so many rules already, and it had been made specifically for him... not someone who was already the epitome of a man. Gavin kicked his shoes and socks off, and pulled off his pants to admire his newly hairy legs and the treasure trail that was going down to an excessively hairy crotch. ⁃ I always wanted more hair on my body!! Guess my wish came true!! He looks amazing, Justin thought. Maybe a little too much hair now, but he could always trim or shave what he didn’t like. What did matter to Justin was that it looked like Gavin now had even more testosterone pumping through his body then ever before. Gavin lifted his arm to flex his bicep, admiring the thick and black underarm hair that had grown in. ⁃ Bet you’re enjoying the view. Like how I look? ⁃ I.... ⁃ If it was supposed to make you more of a man... and it’s already done this... tell me what else is its gonna do? ⁃ I don’t know... taller, more muscular... a bigger penis... ⁃ Fuck yeah!!! I think today just turned out to be the best day of my life!! Imagine this cock even bigger! It’s already pretty large already! Gavin was strutting in front of Justin when it appeared like the wind had been knocked out of him... as if a mule had kicked him squarely in the stomach. He quickly leaned on the desk for support. Through gritted teeth Gavin asked, ⁃ What the fuck is happening now? As the kicks and the spasms continued, Justin could make out the fine outline of abs beginning to protrude under Gavin’s skin. With each punch, Gavin’s abs became larger and thicker, taking on serious size. Running his hands over his spasming abdominals, it was obvious Gavin loved the way the cobblestones felt with a layer of hair over them. He couldn’t stop feeling them, and soon he was putting one finger in the crevices between each ab, then two, then three. Gavin’s waist became thicker, straining the briefs he was wearing, but he was also becoming leaner as well as any fat that had once settled over his abs disintegrated to allow more room for muscular growth. Fingering the fractures between each abdominal muscle began turning Gavin on as Justin saw his cock begin to get hard in his ripped black briefs. ⁃ My body looks insane with such abdominal definition!! If that shit is doing this to my core... fuck me!!! I’m gonna be a beast!! Fuck!! He spoke out loud as he felt his own hairy stomach and slowly massaged the head of his cock through his briefs. From his shit-eating grin, it was obvious to Justin that Gavin loved the feel of all of this size just above his cock. Even a deep Adonis belt, which had never existed before, began to form on his body. Gavin cried out as he felt another jolt, but this one came from lower down. He stopped stroking his cock head and moved his hand down to the bulge below that was slowly increasing size. Wanting to see for himself what was happening, Gavin swiftly tore the half ripped black briefs from his body and threw them in the corner of his office. ⁃ Balls starting to grow... you can’t imagine how good this feels... Letting out wave after wave of testosterone... I feel light headed... too much happening at once... Justin didn’t know how large Gavin’s testicles had started that morning, but as he watched Gavin orgasmically feel himself up, it was obvious that they were beginning to look much larger in his tightening sack then a minute prior. Within minutes, Gavin’s balls had doubled in size. As his testicles swelled and erupted, and as the feeling of pure pleasure began to expand around Gavin’s whole body, he began to moan, quiet at first but growing in fervour. ⁃ My body feels so fuckin alive!! I feel like I’m hooked up to some supernatural power source and it’s just getting stronger and stronger!! FUCK!!! You can’t believe how I feel!! I can’t even describe it... I’m... I’m becoming the epitome of a man!! No one will understand what I’m going through!!! It’s almost getting too strong!! ⁃ Maybe we should get a doctor! ⁃ Are you fuckin crazy?! And have them possibly stop this?? ⁃ It’s just... you broke a lot of the rules. The tea bag was only supposed to be in for three minutes... you weren’t supposed to microwave it... who knows what could... ⁃ ARGH!!!!! Fuck!!!! My balls!!! ...giving off so much heat... balls feel like they’re burning... Fuck!!! They’re on fuckin fire!!! Gavin’s balls had continue to swell and were now the size of two large oranges, and still growing larger. Gavin placed his hands on his ball sack, but it looked to Justin like he could barely touch them. ⁃ So much testosterone building up in these balls now!!! When it’s released... FUCK!!!! Gavin’s balls continued to swell, and it wasn’t long before his sack began to stretch, giving more room for growth. As Gavin was reviling in the ecstasy of his growing balls, he soon became aware that his quads were beginning to both swell. ⁃ Oh, fuck yeah!!! Look at my quads blow up!! Before, his legs had been those of an avid football and rugby player. Now they were both beginning to take on that muscular look that comes with year of serious lifting in the gym. Within a few minutes, both were so thick with muscle that he had to widen his stance in order not to crush his balls between them. ⁃ My quads are nearly the size of my waist and still growing!!! Justin... my man... when this is done... I think Im gonna be a fuckin beast!!! Come on!!! Grow bigger!!! BIGGER!!! Gavin was nearly screaming at the top of his lungs for more growth when both calves began to swell as well. ⁃ What do you think of these legs, Justin? So huge and powerful and all fuckin muscle!!! I can feel it spreading to the rest of my body, now! The rest of me’s gonna grow to... match... my... legs... ARGGGHH. Gavin reached up and grabbed his neck. Justin was concerned that something had gone seriously wrong since it looked as if Gavin was having trouble breathing, but realised fairly quickly that it was simply his neck joining his legs and exploding with muscle. Quickly his shoulders and deltoid muscles joined in and began to expand, growing rounder and more dense. Gavin’s shoulders looked to Justin that they were getting both broader and thicker, and in no time at all they were definitely nearing the width of a door. Justin’s penis was painfully hard as he watched Gavin going through his remarkable transformation. Gavin’s own cock was hard as well and had started leaking pre-cum. His hands were traveling all over his body, massaging, caressing, and worshipping himself. ⁃ I’m like a power plant getting ready to explode!! When Gavin spoke now, his voice was deeper, more commanding, and oozed sexuality. His hands kept returning to his cock and huge balls, slowly stroking himself, enjoying the feel of his own body. Looking directly in Justin’s eyes, Gavin wiped the head of his cock with his fingers, brought it to his face, smelled them, and then licked them clean. ⁃ Taste so fuckin good!!!! Was his voice even deeper then a moment ago? It couldn’t possibly be, but Justin was sure that it was. How long has this been going on, he wondered... and when will it end? How will it end?? Gavin began to massage and squeeze his nipples as his pecs began to swell. ⁃ Oh yeah... that’s it... No amount of hair could hide the musculature of Gavin’s blossoming body. His pecs, easily classified as merely athletic before now pulsed their way into the epitome of power. Each pec grew so immense so quickly that Justin wasn’t sure if Gavin could even see his feet anymore. The crevice in between those mountains of manhood was so deep and so dark with hair that it looked to go on forever. His nipples, grown large and virile, feeling the weight of being attached to such mass, were forced to point down toward his abs. Gavin panted in delight as his muscles continued to grow. With the birth of his colossal chest, his arms proceeded to become engorged with muscle as well. Justin watched in awe as Gavin’s biceps and triceps ballooned in his arms until they were nearly as large as his own head... and still they grew. Gavin’s forearms became as thick as his calves had once been, and as he flexed his upper arm, he began to run his tongue up and down the peaks. Enamoured by his own growth, Gavin could only whimper as the growth of his lats forced his arms further and further from his side. Although his waist was thick with muscle from his abs, his upper torso proceeded to widen until Gavin had an indefinable wasp waist! As every muscle in his entire body continued to swell with more and more growth, thick hose-like veins began to erupt over every inch of his body. To Justin, Gavin’s skin looked paper thin and threatened to easily split if any more mass was added to his body. Veins traveling down his abs wove there way over his pubis and down into his penis. Gavin could barely speak as his cock proceeded to thicken, being engorged further and further with blood. Gavin did his best to grab onto it and stroke it, but the thickness proved to be a challenge for his average sized hands. No sooner had it become thicker then a pint glass when it began to lengthen, a flesh anaconda replacing the admirable penis he had once had. Using both hands, Gavin proceeded to stroke himself, gaining speed and fervour, his moans bellowing throughout the room. ⁃ Look at me!!! Every inch so massive... so strong... so masculine... I feel... I feel... FUCK!!!!!! I feel like a fuckin... ARGHHH!!!!! Gavin’s penis head swelled even larger and proceeded to erupt everywhere. Gavin, lost to his immense orgasm let go of his cock, allowing it to shoot cum all over the walls... all over the windows, and all over Justin. When he finished after continually cumming for nearly three minutes, Gavin collapsed against the desk, forcing it to slide into the wall and causing an immense hole. A minute later, unable to handle his muscle mass, the wooden desk disintegrated beneath him. The only thing Gavin could do as he fell to the floor was laugh. ⁃ What do you think of me? Gavin’s voice floated on the air, filling the entire office, and oozing sex and virility. ⁃ Incredible... ⁃ That’s all you can say? Gavin has some trouble getting up from the floor, but Justin didn’t help him since he knew there was no way he could assist in lifting such weight. Eventually, Gavin was able to manoeuvre himself into a sitting position, hoist himself onto his knees, and then stand. His shadow completely covered Justin as he moved toward him, his entire body involuntarily flexing as he walked. ⁃ There are no words to describe what I’ve become!! I always led the pack, but now I am the epitome of the alpha male. Look at this cock!! It’s longer and thicker then your arm!!! Gavin stood inches away from Justin, his immense body radiating heat and masculinity. His cock was hard once again and leaking onto the floor. ⁃ Lick it. You know you want to. ⁃ I can’t. ⁃ DO IT!!! Gavin placed his hand on Justin’s shoulder and forced him to the floor. On his knees, Justin looked up at Gavin’s cock defying gravity by sticking straight up. ⁃ Try and put your mouth around the head... now... Nervously, Justin placed one hand and then another on Gavin’s penis, feeling it pulsate and breathe beneath his hands. Through the veins, Justin could feel the gallons of blood being pumped in and out to keep it as rigidly hard as it was. I’ve never felt anything like this before… its so hard yet feels so smooth… it practically feels alive… Even with both hands he couldn’t encircle it. The veins that crisscrossed the entire length were thicker then Justin’s own fingers. ⁃ Suck me. Justin tried to pull the cock down to on level with his own face, but discovered he wasn’t strong enough. ⁃ Let me give you a hand. Gavin took his own hands and proceeded to force his cock down till it was parallel with the floor. Justin opened his mouth, and as he got closer to the head, knew there was no way he would ever get it in his mouth. ⁃ Lick it. Justin did as he was told, running his tongue over every inch of the head. Gavin kept one hand on his cock but placed the other behind Justin’s head so he could manipulate him wherever he wanted his tongue to go. With his tongue, he began to work the sensitive area right under the glans. Gavin breathed in and out, his cock proceeding to leak even more. ⁃ Tongue fuck the slit. ⁃ What? ⁃ Stick your tongue in the slit. Justin moved his tongue to the massive mouth-like slit of Gavin’s penis head and began to lick it. ⁃ Stuck it in! Justin forced his tongue to enter Gavin’s slit. ⁃ Deeper! Tongue fuck this cock!! Justin felt Gavin’s hand force his head forward till he had no choice but to put his tongue deeper into the slit. Pre was leaking all over his face as Gavin forced him in further. ⁃ Oh yeah. That’s it. Tongue fuck that cock. Fuck yeah!!! Feels so good!! Imagine if... this had... been you?! You bursting with... with... all of this muscle... and power!! Your body covered in hair... reeking of sweat and testosterone. Your balls... your balls... don’t stop, Justin... I... I... Fuck... I’m... Fuck.... As Gavin was talking, Justin began to hear a cracking sound coming from in front of him and behind him. Focused on what he was doing, he didn’t pay it much heed till it proceeded to get louder and louder. ⁃ ... I’m fuckin growing!!! My whole body getting taller!! My fingers getting longer... my hands swelling... Justin could feel Gavin’s hand that was on the back of his head getting longer and thicker, covering more and more space each second. Justin looked down and realised that Gavin’s feet must have doubled in size and were continuing to grow. ⁃ ... growth so strong... every part of me getting bigger... taller... thicker... stronger... Within a few minutes Justin could no longer kneel any longer and had to stand to reach Gavin’s cock. Looking up, he saw the behemoth in ecstasy as he stretched taller and wider and gained more and more muscle mass. ⁃ Almost too much... so much growth... getting so tall... muscles expanding... nearing the ceiling... need it to stop... becoming a freak… do I realy want this… NO!!! I don’t want it to stop... so massive... Justin only comes up to my abs now... even the hair on my head is getting longer now... how much do I weigh... can’t see below my pecs anymore... my head’s gonna hit the ceiling... so much power... I’m gonna cum... oh fuck... of fuck... OH FUCK!!!!!! Gavin screamed at the top of his lungs as his colossal penis began to ejaculate again. As his cock spasmed, it hit Justin in the face and sent him flying to the floor. As he looked up, all Justin could think of when he saw Gavin was Goliath. He was simply that massive... his shoulders so broad, his torso like a marble sculpture, his arms and legs so thick, and he was nearly as tall as the ceiling. What else could the Biblical giant have on Gavin? ⁃ I need to get out of here! I need to show this body to the world. Gavin began to move toward the office door, but Justin was quicker and blocked his path. ⁃ We need to get you some clothes first... you could get arrested if... ⁃ I doubt I’ll ever wear clothes again!! Who would want me to??!! As if he were swatting a pesky fly, Gavin easily moved Justin to the side. When he opened the office door, Gavin ripped it right off its hinges and held it in his hand. Admiring his own strength, Gavin took his other hand and began to fold the metal door in on itself. Once he had folded the length in half, he placed it on the floor and proceeded to fold the top into the bottom. Pre was flowing from Gavin’s cock as he took the metal square that had once been a door and simply crinkled it into a ball and threw it into the corner with a bang. Gavin looked down at Justin and grinned. ⁃ I thought that would test me, but it was too easy... barely felt anything. I have to be the strongest man on Earth!! With his hands, Gavin ripped the metal doorframe from the wall to try and make it easier for him to get through, but he was still too tall and too wide. Finally, he simply pushed his way out of the hole that had once been a door, rubble falling down onto him, the dust coating parts of his sweaty body. Even his ass is pure muscle, Justin thought as he followed the behemoth lumbering down the hallway, trying unsuccessfully to make his way to the main room without taking down all the walls. In his dreams, he had never imagined a creature as muscular and as sex filled as what Gavin had become. A scream from one of the remaining PA’s greeted Gavin as he finally made his way into the core of the building. ⁃ Not the reaction I expected... but I like it!! Several remaining employees, including Mr. Webber ran into the room to see what the commotion was about. They were greeted by a grinning and flexing eleven foot, 1,500 pound, hairy, and hard version of their coworker. Mr. Webber was the first to speak. ⁃ What the hell happened to you? ⁃ My appearance finally matches what I always was inside. ⁃ ...how??? ⁃ You wanted an Alpha to lead your firm into the 21st Century... and that’s what you got!! Justin could see that several of the employees were turned on by Gavin’s new size, but Mr. Webber wasn’t having any of it. ⁃ Get out of this building before you take the whole thing down with you! I’ve never seen such a disgusting display of... ⁃ You call this disgusting?? Gavin flexed his entire body for the onlookers. ⁃ GET OUT!! ⁃ You’re just jealous, old man!! Gavin reaches down and easily lifted Mr. Webber up till hey were eye to eye. Urine quickly fell onto the floor from where Mr Webber had relieved himself. As he spoke, Gavin shook Mr. Webber so forcibly that Justin worried that he could easily kill him without even realising it. ⁃ I am the future!!! I think from now on there’s no need for you ever to come in again!! I run this firm now!! I make all of the decisions!! Don’t you agree with me, Lionel?? ⁃ I...I... ⁃ I CAN’T HEAR YOU!!!! ⁃ I do... it’s all yours... ⁃ That’s what I... what I... Gavin stumbled backward and threw Mr. Webber to the floor. ⁃ Happening again... power welling up inside my body... even... FUCK... even stronger then before... Justin could only watch in astonishment as Gavin proceeded to commence growing again, this time even faster then before. ⁃ I was always meant for more... ALWAYS... always meant for greatness... and now... now... FUCK!!!! Getting even stronger!!!! The remaining employees ran outside to get away from what would certainly bring the entire building down around him. Justin remained rooted to his spot, knowing he had to see it through to the end. ⁃ How can it keep getting stronger... but it is!!! Never felt this kind of power before... this kind of strength... Gavin’s head slammed into the ceiling. Justin ran into the foyer to avoid the rubble that was falling down around Gavin. None of this seemed to bother Gavin as Justin heard his bass laugh echoing around the entire building. From the foyer, Justin could only see Gavin’s massive feet and his buttress-sized legs. No... they surpassed mere buttresses. They were thicker then that... thicker then redwoods... massive, muscular, and hairy behemoth legs that were now beyond description. The entire building shook and began to fall apart around Justin. Not prepared to die watching Gavin grow even larger, Justin ran outside to join the mass of people on the street gawking at the immense form as it forced its way out of the building, taking it down with him. Gavin smiled, as he looked down at the world around him, his massive cock leaving puddles of pre on the street. The hair on his head was even longer now, down past his shoulders, and his thick beard cascaded over his pecs and down to his abs. His testicles, simply enormous, and audibly churning inside producing an endless supply of sperm and testosterone. Gavin, who had once been athletically handsome before now appeared far more primal, his eyes deep set, his eyebrows bushier, and his body covered in hair. For fun, Gavin gyrated his hips and watched his cock knock down an entire building. The moment after he had accomplished this feat, he began to moan and shot cannon fire of sperm onto the street and the onlookers below. Once his orgasms had finished, Gavin moved into the street to have more room to stand. Trying to get away from the monster invading Charing Cross, a bus and two cars ran into his legs. The automobiles were destroyed, but there was barely a scratch left on Gavin. Kicking the bus to the side, he took down further buildings around him causing panic and chaos, which only appeared to turn him on more. Lifting a car that had been abandoned by its driver, Gavin effortlessly raised it up to his head to stare at it, then grinned, formed a ball out of it with his hands, threw it up in the air a few times, and then hurled it into The London Eye. ⁃ Always hated that fuckin eyesore!! Police arrived on the scene, uselessly staring up at the mega man. His growth had finally stopped, but he now towered over the world 35 feet in the air. As before, any movement caused nearly every muscle in his body to flex, sending what appeared like currents of pleasure through him. As he stood there admiring the view, he stroked his cock, an appendage that was now longer then his own arm. ⁃ Have you ever seen anything like me??!! Look at me and know that there is no one more powerful then I am!! I declare myself King of England!! Try and stop me and you’ll see nothing but destruction. Worship me, and I might let you live!!!! Gavin laughed and licked his own pre covered hand. ⁃ None of you will ever know how intoxicating this feels!! I have no peers... no equal... I am the greatest, most beautiful thing to have ever lived!!! Justin... if you’re down there... find that guy and get more if what you gave me!! I’m gonna want a mate soon!!! Justin tried to hide his face from the crowd so they wouldn’t recognise it was he who had assisted in creating this magnificent abomination. In the back of his mind, he wanted to be Gavin’s mate... feel him take control and fill his ass with his cock. Fuck... he thought!! He is so beautiful!!! ⁃ Can you smell me down there? My own scent is turning me on!! Here, let me help you smell me!! Gavin reached down and picked up an onlooker from the street. The man began to scream as Gavin raised him up off of the ground and brought him to his right hairy pit. ⁃ Lick my pit!! Smell me!!! You’ll never be as much of a man as I am!! The man did begin to lick Gavin’s pit, nervous at first, but then with more and more passion. ⁃ Good boy!! Maybe I’ll let you worship my cock later. Gavin lowered the man to the ground who just lay there, convulsing in orgasmic lust. ⁃ All of this growth has made me hungry. Bring me food!!! Lots of it!! And Guinness! I want barrels of Guinness!! Bring me this and I’ll... YES!!!! Gavin’s voice was suddenly even deeper and filled with more lust for power then ever before. Justin watched Gavin sway on his feet and recognised what was about to happen again. ⁃ Too late!!!! It’s building up inside me again... each time even more powerful then the last!!! Soon you’ll be nothing but ants beneath my feet... unimportant... Justin covered his ears as Gavin let out a deafening roar. His body was once again pulsating with power, swelling and growing larger with growth. Gavin’s quads had gotten bigger then ever before, resulting in a loud crack of his pelvis snapping and then repairing itself to enable more room for growth. Several buildings were demolished as Gavin stumbled around trying to maintain his footing. His pecs were so mountainous now that they totally prevented him from seeing what lay below them. Justin watched as his co-worker flexed for the crowd beneath him, long resolved to being the god he was quickly becoming. As his feet became larger then the cars below him, Gavin intentionally leaned over and swiped at any building in his way that prevented him from standing on solid ground. The police forced the crowd to safety, away from the falling debris. As he was moved all he could hear were the shouts from Gavin above, loving what he had become. ⁃ YES!!! RUN!!!! THIS GROWTH IS STRONGER THEN ANYTHING I’VE FELT PRIOR… MY MUSCLES EXPLODING WITH MORE AND MORE SIZE… MY COCK BIGGER THEN SOME BUILDINGS!!!! GETTING SO TALL… SO MIGHTY!!! THIS IS WHAT I WAS ALWAYS MEANT TO BE!!!! IM THE MOST POWERFUL CREATURE ON THIS PLANET!!! NO ONE EQUALS ME!!!! NO ONE!!!!! Gavin rocketed up further, his size quickly multiplying. Cum fell onto the street like rain as he ejaculated over and over again. Justin kept an eye on him as he ran up Charing Cross Road. Surely, Mr. Huang would help him if he claimed to be doing it to help the city. Someone had to stop this monster... He would say anything to get what he wanted. He knew that now. Once he had the teabag, he would let it sit in a giant mug for over an hour, microwave it, and swallow it all, including the herbs. This time he would win... he would join Gavin… and together they would get what they deserved. Yes… today he would win.
  10. This is my first story. It's going to have bite sized chapters and very regular updates (most likely daily). This is a m/m superhero romance. The first two chapters are mostly set up, but after that every chapter has plenty of sexy muscle and feats of strength, so please stick with it! Chapter 1 It began as all the best love stories do: with terrorism. The 24th of March 2013 is much like any other day. Hugo Chavez recently died, triggering what would go on to become an economic crisis in Venezuela, the UN security council has just slammed North Korea with harsh new sanctions, Justin Timberlake is topping the charts with ‘Mirrors’, protestors are waving signs outside Parliament, protesting about something, pigeons are shitting, rain is pouring, and I'm on my way to work. The newly opened Shard is difficult to miss. It towers over London’s skyline, jutting into the clouds like the lair of a comic book villain. I make my way inside, flashing my ID as I go. ‘Jake Langley’, it says in large capital letters, along with an employee number and my date of birth. I only show it as a courtesy - the security guards have all memorised my face by now. I sometimes wonder what they think of me. Am I ‘that cute, fresh faced little pastry chef with the dimples’ or do they just see me as a child straight out of college, coasting by on boyish looks, with no clue what he’s doing? I’d like to think it was the former. I’d like to. But I don’t. I wish I was the kind of guy who had the guts to ask. The kind who knows he's good enough, who knows he's not going to be rejected or shut down. But even if I wasn't gay, I will never be that kind of guy. It's not in my nature. I'm not assertive or domineering. I smile, wave, and make pastry. That's my nature. I slip by in this hyper masculine world by being too small for anyone to see as a threat. And for the most part, it works. The kitchens still shine like the day they were installed, which wasn't that long ago. Most kitchens are crowded, starkly lit places where you can barely move an inch without bumping into someone or knocking something over, but not this one. Natural light pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows, treating us to a view of London that millions of people would kill for. But I'm not here for the views. Okay, maybe a little bit. But mostly, I'm here to do my job. I find my little corner and start preparing for the day’s guests. It's a Sunday, so we're expecting a lot of traffic. There isn’t an overpaid banker in London who doesn’t salivate over the idea of lunch at the Shard. Russian oligarchs, Saudi oil barons, British royalty, Colombian drug lords - we serve them all. I don’t care who they are or what they do. It's none of my business. It sounds like a simple, boring job - making pastry. You’d be surprised at how much there is to it. There’s a reason they have pastry chefs – this is a difficult thing to get right. It's always come easily to me. I find something calming about rolling out a sheet of puff, spreading on the butter, folding it over, and rolling it out again. There's a rhythm to it. My movements soon become mechanical and I can feel myself floating away into a distant world where I'm someone interesting, somewhere interesting, doing something interesting. The kitchen hums around me as the first orders come in. Pans clink, hobs fizzle, water gurgles as it boils. I can barely hear the orders being barked over it all. But I'm not really paying attention. Boom. I can feel a wave of pressure pass through my feet, up to my head, and down again. Everything is shaking; the walls, the floor, the windows. Pots rattle above my head on their hooks. I turn to see the kitchen staff frozen, eyeing one another with pointed glares. I don't think I've ever seen this room so quiet. “What was that?” I hear one of them whisper, his voice carrying clear across the room. No one answers. Was it an earthquake? It couldn’t be. Earthquakes aren’t instantaneous, they're gradual. Then it comes again, much louder. BOOM. I don’t know if it's the ringing in my ears or the shaking beneath my feat, but I'm suddenly hunched over a table, flour covering my hands, gasping for breath. I don't know how long I spend there, trying to comprehend what's going on. It must be a minute or two, at least. My daze is broken as an alarm whirrs into life, high pitched and screaming. Red lights flash. All at once, the shock turns to chaos. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. They're coming faster now, from all over the building. I can feel them in my bones. While others run for the doors, I huddled under my table. What the hell is going on? My eyes drift to the windows, where black smoke is billowing up past our floor, carrying dust and paper. Fuck. I watched 9/11 unfold on live TV and I was here when they locked down London during the 7/7 attacks. It's impossible to ignore the reality of what's going on. This is a terrorist attack. I can see dark shapes floating past outside, just beyond the smoke. Choppers. News choppers. When I had dreamed of appearing on TV, I was thinking more along the lines of Deal or No Deal, not this. Anything but this. I'm now alone in the kitchen. I don't know when that happened. I presume everyone else has fled. My gaze flickers to the open door as I try to decide what to do. Maybe if I run now, I could get out before the building collapses. Or maybe the lower floors are experiencing the worst of it, and I'm best waiting up here while the blaze is brought under control. Is there anything here I could turn into a parachute? No, I scold myself. That’s pointless and stupid. I’d never break through those windows anyway. Turning on my phone, I check the BBC. The first result is a live video of the Shard, burning in a dozen places. The news anchors are speaking but I can’t hear a word of it. I watch the screen in horror as the fire begins to creep outward from the explosion sites. One of them is pretty close to this kitchen. Placing my hands on the ground, I feel warmth. There’s a rumbling sensation. Something is crackling not far from our door. As fast as I can, I slam it shut, backing away with a hiss as the handle burns my skin, leaving it red and blotchy. Now there’s smoke trickling in through the vents and the air is getting hazy. Pulling a wet cloth over my mouth, I run around the kitchen and turn on all the taps and block all the drains. They overflow one by one, spilling out onto the floor until there’s a pool of water an inch deep. This won’t save me, but it might slow the spread. It’s getting seriously hot in here. I clutch my burned hands around the wet cloth, which eases the pain, but nothing can stop the coughing fits. There’s soot clogging my lungs and in my eyes, causing them to water uncontrollably. The air is so thick now that I can barely see from one end of the room to the other. My only sign that the door has buckled is the red tongues of flame licking at the ceiling. At the same time, I’m hit by a wave of heat so overwhelming that my only option is to curl up on the floor and cover my face as I feel the skin of my back start to blister. Then something astonishing happens. Something so unusual that I wonder if I’m hallucinating. There's a silhouette visible through the smoke. A man. He's enormous, and seems completely unphased by the fire caressing every inch of his body. His eyes find me on the floor, and a look of relief flits across his face. I blink, and he’s suddenly leaning over me. How did he move so fast? I open my mouth to ask, but only a ragged cough comes out. Two huge arms gently scoop me up. I press my face into his chest to escape the heat. Somehow even in the middle of a burning skyscraper, his touch makes me feel safe. Protected. Isn’t that strange? I hear the sound of shattering glass, feel a rush of cold air on my neck. The arms wrap more tightly around me. The lurching in my stomach tells me we’re moving, and I try to look around, but one hand on the back of my head keeps me locked to his chest. As the adrenaline fades, my body starts to scream in pain. I’ve never felt such agony. It’s only a matter of time before blackness is creeping into my vision, clouding my mind. And then I’m gone.
  11. We are now coming to the end of this story. I have actually written the conclusion, but am rewriting some of it. Thanks to everyone for the PM's with comments and ideas. I've really enjoyed writing this story, but it is time to complete it. I've loved writing for Declan, a villain who just wants ultimate power!! Who can't be seduced by that!!! The Test Chapter Seven: Zeus Since the coming of the age of Cronus, the world had gone insane. Many tried to flee London where he/they first appeared, but as their word stated, Cronus could be everywhere at once, and reveled in the power they now possessed. Still conscious within Cronus, Declan insisted on being the God he now was, and found more and more joy watching existence teeter out of control by his whims. For the first few days there was mayhem, but Cronus intervened by smiting millions dead and assimilating their matter, growing even larger. Falling in line, and fearing for their lives, the rest of the Earth’s population became priests, accolades, and celebrants to the God. To forever keep an eye on their unruly subjects... The New Mount Olympus materialized in the sky, viewable from every point on earth. Within, where he resided, Cronus was forever awake...always watching. Jacob would never forget the day Cronus had manifested himself to the people, growing more massive by the second, speaking to each individual at once, proclaiming their own mastery over all creation. Running, but finding it nearly impossible to concentrate with Cronus’ words ringing in his mind, Jacob fought his way into the Bath House. Oddly immune to what was happening outside its doors, Eros lay on the floor being worshipped continually by hundreds of men. Getting closer to the source of Eros’ scent... Jacob found it difficult to concentrate, forgetting why he was so panicked and out of breath. Pushing masses of men out of his way, Jacob forced his way next to Eros’ side. Enjoying each moment of ecstasy his worshipers brought him too, Eros moaned and grinned, constantly leaking cum. Realising that Jacob was near to him, Eros reaches his arm over his considerable chest, and effortlessly lifted him up and started to kiss him deeply. The taste of Eros’ lips was so appealing, so warm and welcoming that all that was happening outside was forgotten. As they kissed, Jacob could feel his friends passion growing, his tongue diving deeper into his mouth. ⁃ I need to fuck you, Jacob. Right now. In front of everyone. ⁃ I can’t. It would be impossible. ⁃ Nothings impossible anymore. Jacob felt his clothing beginning to disintegrate until he was entirely naked. Moving his thick fingers to Jacob’s ass, Eros began to massage it gently, then with more force. In a state of anxiety mixed with ecstasy, Jacob looked up into his friend’s eyes and found they were now glowing a vibrant blue colour that was virtually impossible to look at. ⁃ I need to fuck you so badly, Jacob. Now!!! I need you now!!! A strong invisible force tossed Jacob to the floor. As he tried to stand up, he found he was being pinned like a butterfly to a board. Eros rose to his feet, crudely tossing all of the other men away, and stared down at what he required. His eyes still glowing, Eros began to will Jacob’s rectum to open wider and wider. The pain was excruciating as unseen hands forcefully stretched him beyond any level of comfort. ⁃ Please don’t, Chad!! I’m not ready!! ⁃ I have to!! I need to breed you right now!! Jacobs’s asshole stretched further until he thought it would tear, but some supernatural force was preventing this from happening. When he thought he was ready, Eros grabbed Jacob with his mighty hands, lifted him up, and with one swift motion, impaled him on his column sized cock. Jacob screamed out and Eros roared as he forced the entirety of the head in. Pushing down on Jacob like a rag doll, Eros continued to plunge his self- lubricated cock deeper. When all of the head and a few inches of the shaft were in, Eros proceeded to savagely fuck him. ⁃ Take it.... Jacob!! Take all of me!! Faster and deeper Eros fucked Jacob, attempting to bury himself in as deep as possible. Jacob tried not to scream out in anguish as he watched the hundreds of worshipers jerking off to the sight of what was happening. All Jacob could think of was how Chad could do this to him. Even a God should know how to control himself... but perhaps as Eros, he no longer could. The longer he was Eros, the less and less like Chad he became. Could he be loosing himself in this transformation? With one final monumental thrust, Eros shot his massive load into Jacob. The pressure threatened to push Jacob off, but Eros held onto him by the shoulders so that he could empty every last drop into him. After convulsing for several minutes, Eros finally finished cumming and removed Jacob from his impalement. With no strength left in his body, Jacob lay on the floor, the worshipers coating him and Eros with their own ejaculations. Eros, his eyes ceasing to glow and returning to normal, shook his head as if he had just come out of a fifteen minute slumber. As all of the men continued to deposit their seed on Jacob, the roof of the Bath House was ripped off the building by the colossal hand of Cronus, and thrown into the Thames. Cronus laughed hysterically as pandemonium ensued, naked men trying to escape the newly born God’s wrath. Enjoying the sight of the bugs running in fear bellow him, Cronus smiled and sent lightening bolts shooting from his eyes into each man, killing them all until only Eros and Jacob remained. Eros was too small to attack the 90 foot giant, but made his best effort of trying to protect Jacob by placing his body in front him. ⁃ Finally we come face to face, Eros. So much fuss over such a small insignificant abomination. With a single glance, Cronus threw Eros across the room, slamming him into the wall. Slowly standing back up, Eros questioned what he could do to get Jacob out of the building and to safety. Eros knew that he couldn’t be killed by the God, but Jacob easily could be. Making the quick decision to grab Jacob and disappear, Eros began to run as fast as he could across the room, but crashed into an invisible barrier that separated them. ⁃ Stay!!! With one word, Eros was unable to move, though he could still hear and see everything around him. ⁃ Jacob??!! Is that you??!! Its so hard to see you from this distance!!!!! Cronus laughed some more as he destroyed several walls of the building attempting to get closer. Extending his neck beyond the realm of possibility, Cronus brought his head down to where Jacob lay, his eye larger then the man at his mercy. ⁃ Do you not recognize us?? It’s you we have to thank!! You freed us and enabled us to reach Godhood. Now we reign supreme over everything. Everything!!!! ⁃ What are you?? ⁃ We’re your God, Jacob, and you will respect us!! Now... what to do with you?? How do We thank you?? With a cunning grin he looked directly at Jacob, and then turned his head to face Eros. ⁃ We know!!! We need to thank your boyfriend!! It was he who began to free us from our prison... wasn’t he?? Eros!! Our way of thanking you is to kill you!! Jacob screamed as Cronus proceeded to shoot fire repeatedly from his mouth into Eros. Jacob stood up and tried and get to him, but the invisible barrier put a stop to this. After several minutes of constant fire blast, Cronus ceased his attack. When the smoke cleared, Jacob could finally see Eros, sprawled on the floor, exhausted and soot covered, yet alive. ⁃ Unfortunately , We set into the fabric of the universe that a God could never be killed at another’s hand... except in only one way... Will you give us everything We desire, Eros? ⁃ NEVER!!! ⁃ We thought that would be your answer. Therefore, it’s eternal torture!! Now what can it be??? What befits a God such as you? Cronus’ neck slithered his head back into position on his shoulders. Stroking his beard, acting as if he was in deep contemplation, Cronus smiles a wicked smile. ⁃ Yes... yes... We think that is a brilliant idea!! So be it!! Torment befitting the God of Lust!!! Cronus had barely uttered his last word when Jacob saw Eros’ sprawled body be pulled like a marionette to his feet. Now able to control his arms and legs again, Eros attempted to struggle, but that proved fruitless; Cronus was merely too strong. Once he was standing erect, Jacob could only watch in horror as invisible hands began to clutch at the hair on Eros’ head and forcibly rip it out. Simultaneously, hands pulled at his beard, chest, body and pubic hair, enforcing the same punishment. Eros cried out as the attack persisted, a deep echoing chuckle emanating from the God watching above. It took several minutes for Eros’ body to become hairless, his beautiful black locks littering the floor at his feet. Even though he knew that wouldn’t be all, Jacob still jumped when he heard the cracking sound, and watched as Eros’ head was pulled further and further back till he was forced to look up. With a loud snap, his entire head shifted even more until it lay impossibly on his shoulders with his mouth facing the sky. Eros’ tried his best to reach his arm out to Jacob, but was prevented when his head slowly began to swell. Larger and larger his head expanded, quickly becoming an oddly formed mass balancing on his neck. Eros’ head was so out of proportion that his eyes were mere skits, and his nose had been stretched until it disappeared. As his head continued to inflate and reshape, his mouth began to stretch longer until it appeared to split his head in half, eventually repositioning itself in a permanent oblong shape. Jacob could see that Eros’ breathing had accelerated and that he was obviously panicking. His head was now so large and so disfigured that it didn’t resemble Eros at all. His head as actually starting too… Suddenly Jacob knew what was happening. Cronus was transforming Eros into a enormous cock!! Experiencing agonizing pain, Eros’ attempted to have his hands to clutch onto his cock and balls, but the flesh melted, slipped through his fingers and filling in the gap between his legs, down to his feet. All muscle mass on his body was rapidly beginning to waste away, and his skin was starting to loosen and wrinkle. Eros attempted to speak, to cry out to Jacob, but all that came from his mouth was a thick clear liquid that flowed down his body. The bones of his arms completely faded and hung lifeless against his body. Jacob could just stare open mouthed as the flesh that had was once been Eros’ arms commenced turning a bluish colour. His fingers burrowed into his side until they were buried in his skin past his wrists, the rest of his arms fastening to his body, transforming into the massive veins required to feed this colossal cock. Looking back up at Eros’ face, his eyes were completely gone, and his neck had become thicker, nearly as large as his head. What was once his head was enormous, with a mushroom-head ridge going around it. With blood now feeding it, Eros began to elongate, becoming thicker and longer, until he stood at attention like the massive errect cock he had become. Cronus’ reached out and took Eros in his hand. ⁃ Now he truly is a magnificent specimen. The perfect addition to add to our collection. Cronus’ own penis shifted to the right as he thrust Eros’ shaft into his pubis until it was fully attached. Smiling with glee, Cronus stood there stoking the erect cock that had once been Eros, massive drops of pre flowing from his mouth and onto the floor like rain. ⁃ Do you want to know the best part, Jacob? He still knows what he is... or rather... was. He’s fully conscious... existing forever as an addition of us... something he should forever be grateful for. Cronus closed his eyes and willed two additional testicles to form below Eros, completing the transformation. Jacob could only stars in horror at what Eros had become... and what the insane God had planned for him. ⁃ Now... this will be my favorite part of the day... your death!! I couldn’t kill Eros, but I can easily kill you!!!! Before Jacob could even think to move, Cronus’ right hand which doubling as his scythe came down in a mighty arc to bisect him. The sound of metal shattering into millions of pieces could be heard in several different universes as the scythe came in contact with Jacob’s body. No one saw the look of shock cross Cronus’ face, but the Earth felt his growing anger as the entire globe began to tremble. Buildings began to fall and mountains tumbled as the God cried out: ⁃ No!!!!!! This couldn’t be?!! How could a mortal destroy a piece of Cronus? Cronus willed the scythe to regrow twice as strong, and found that nothing would form on the broken stump. Jacob stood and began to back away from the God. He wasn’t sure what had happened, what had saved his life, but he did know it was best to get away since it might not happen again. As he ran for the door, fire rained down on him, igniting the walls and floor around him, but leaving his body without a mark. Ice that flowed next did nothing to harm Jacob, and neither did the lava that erupted from the cracks in the ground. Nothing Cronus conjured could touch him. Both God and mortal questioned what was keeping him alive? ⁃ May it be known on this world and every world that whoever is found feeding this man shall instantly die. Giving water, shelter, or any form of help or comfort shall result in instant death!! Run, Jacob!!! Run!!! I may not be able to destroy you right now, but you aren’t immortal!! You can die! It may take a while, but you will die!! I can wait!! I’m eternal!!! RUN!!! With no plan or direction, Jacob ran naked through the streets. Following the command of their God, no one came to his aid. No one would help. Each person acted as if he didn’t exist, and after several days of this... Jacob began to wonder if he did. Running away from the city and into the countryside, existing only by eating fruit he found growing on a trees. For the first couple of weeks this was a difficult but bearable existence, until one day Cronus decided to torture him more by having all fruit wither and rot the moment it touched Jacob’s hand. The same thing happened to any liquid that might quench his thirst; it simply evaporated as it came near his mouth. He may not be able to kill me directly, but this will indeed do it in time, Jacob thought. Further and further he walked, growing hungrier, thirstier, and exhausted. On the fortieth day of his exile, he came to a large Oak tree in the middle of a field. Lying beneath it, Jacob welcomed death. He could think of no better location for a final resting place then right there. As he began to fall into unconsciousness, Jacob could feel his hair and brow being stroked. Trying to open his eyes, all he could see was the blurry bearded face of a man... his eyes glowing a bright blue. Somehow, he had taken Jacob’s head in his lap and was now stroking it and gently speaking to him. ⁃ It is here where you must take up arms... where you must find it within you to reclaim all that is yours. I’ve returned... and together we will triumph. Zeus looked down at and watched as Jacob’s eyes began to glow, matching his own. * Cronus paced around the infinite halls of Mount Olympus, anger flowing off of him in lightning that continuously struck the earth. Over and over He had willed his right hand to regrow, but all that had formed was a misshapen appendage, virtually unusable. The essence that had once been Declan questioned Cronus what had saved Jacob, why his hand refused to grow back, but Cronus remained silent. Anger made Declan’s will grow even stronger, and Cronus found it more and more difficult to match him in supremacy. As the days past and Cronus refused to answer him, Declan fought a war within himself forcing the old God to begin to fade into the background. Declan wanted complete control over Cronus, and what had begun as joint power began to fall in the ex-mortals favor. As Declan began to win the battle for supremacy, streaks of jet black hair began to appear mixed with the white on his head, face, and chest. As the weeks passed, Declan questioned Cronus incessantly until one day, all Cronus would whisper was one word… a word and an existence that had been kept hidden from Declan: Zeus. ⁃ Surly we must be more powerful then our son!!! We are Cronus!!! We are the first God!! In answer, a memory replayed. First there was nothing but a swirling mist of absolute power and consciousness. This being... called Ouranos was the beginning and the end. It desired matter to exist, for only it could create and destroy such a thing. Light was birthed from its design, it expanded, and all life began. Ouranos existed and controlled everything... for there was only Ouranos. Desiring to never be alone, it split like an ameba, creating two forms of consciousness, Cronus, and Zeus. Together they were meant to rule, brother and brother... equal sides of the scale. They were yin and yang... Alpha and Omega. The part of Cronus that remained Declan saw this and understood. Ouranos had once been total absolute power... his consciousness had been everything... but with the creation of Zeus, that power had been diluted. Zeus had overthrown Cronus, locking him away until now. ⁃ Where is Zeus?? Declan questioned Cronus.. questioned himself... and was surprised when they didn’t know. Zeus was concealed. - If we merge with Zeus... what will we become? ⁃ We must not... ⁃ If we merge with Zeus... what will we become? ⁃ We will be as we were before... total absolute power. We are everything. We exist as everything simultaneously. We are limitless. We are beyond power. What we were... you can never comprehend. Cronus looked down at his withered hand. God should not be injured. God should be ultimate power... The longer he remained merged with Cronus, the stronger Declan found he was becoming. The original God, although formidable was old and tired, easily confused by this modern age. Cronus wished to return to a simpler time, but Declan denied him this. This was becoming Declan’s time... his epoch. To be able to create and destroy matter... to be everything at once... to be supreme power... to actually be all of existence...this was what Declan craved and Cronus feared. With such power... I could reform existence in my image... I could reverse the clock and start again... I will be everything!!! ⁃ Tell me, what lays beyond... what created you? ⁃ That we can not see. ⁃ Power greater then even what you once were? ⁃ Far greater. Far... far greater... * Yes... Zeus thought... as he began to merge with Jacob...his pecs inflating and his abs becoming an army of steel plates. Remember what we once were Cronus. Remember the first spark that brought us into being. The beginning will finally be our end. We are ancient... it is time for us to sleep forever... it is time for a new existence to rise. Jacob moaned as he lay on the ground. Every tree, every animal, and every piece of plant life happy to give up its matter so that it could reform him in Zeus’ image. We must be prepared, Jacob. We must be ready. Soon... everything will change. Jacob lay in a crater 10 miles wide... concealed by Zeus from Cronus as the merging continued... Jacob’s body exploding with new life. The rebirth of Zeus had begun.
  12. For your reading pleasure. Thanks for being an awesome space. “You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.” The thought runs through my head like a mantra as I climb the stairs. I find myself at the door to his loft before I realize I'm there. I clench my fingers into a fist in a final effort to steel myself and raise my hand to knock. The door rattles noisily as it slides open. His eyes widen in surprise at my hand in front of his face, still poised to rap on the door. “Whoa – that was quick. People don't usually make it up the four flights that fast.” I look at him and shrug, doing my best to act non-chalant. “What's wrong, out of breath?” He grins toothily at me and gestures to come in. “Not yet.” Well yes, but not from the stairs. Fucked if I was going to let on how he has me panting and terrified at the same time. Of course, he had answered the door in nothing but shorts. We were the same height at 5' 10”, probably even the same foot size, but everything else was different. He was clearly the bulkier one. His profile listed him at 175 but he looked a little bigger in person. He was carrying a little extra bulk from the winter but that did nothing to hide the thickly muscled core underneath. The dark hair dusted across his chest trailed down his abdomen thickening above those shorts that did everything to accentuate the reason we were here today. The fabric outlined the meaty shape of his dick so clearly, he had to be going commando. “This isn't going to be much fun if I'm the only one who's getting naked.” He slides the door shut behind me, audibly sliding the pin in to lock it. “I've got the heat cranked so we don't have to worry about any extra...shrinkage. Bathroom's to your left if you're shy to start.” I ditch my shoes and head left, closing the bathroom door most of the way behind me. I manage socks and pants first, only getting tangled in my own clothes once. I turn to face the mirror and start unbuttoning my shirt, getting halfway down before my hands start to tremble. Cursing inwardly I stare at my hands, willing them to stop while I slow my breathing to help focus. My head snaps up at the sound of wood creaking behind me. There he was, right arm raised and bent to brace himself in the doorway leading to his bedroom. I didn't even notice the other door in my distraction. He looks me over slowly, feet to head, finally making eye contact in the mirror and before approaching from behind. “Hey.” He turns me toward him and rests his forehead against mine. “Here..” He slowly grips my hands to steady them. Together, we finish undoing the buttons. He pulls the shirt off my arms, hanging it off a door handle. It was unexpectedly intimate and incredibly kind. “Do you forget how to undress yourself often?” His smile colour the words softer than they would have been. “Well, no, I just-” Fuck. The heat rising in my cheeks means I'm blushing, something I don't do often. I hate blushing. “I may be a little nervous. You?” “Terrified.” “But you're not even-” “Home turf advantage” I groan. So corny. “And we both know I'm going to win.” “Oh, yeah?” I step back from him then, raising my gaze defiantly. “You remember the rules, right?” He steps back and crosses his arms. I swear he's flexing to make sure I notice the taught balls of muscle that swell. “Oh I remember, all right. Looks like someone's been hitting the stair-master to draw out the inevitable as much as possible.” I preen at the comment. Once we decided to get together and compare in-person instead of online, I had upped my cardio and tightened my diet. I had meant to drop the weight for a while and this real life meeting gave me the extra inspiration to finally do it. I was a lean 152 pounds now, down from the 160 my profile listed. A simple run over my lower body with clippers meant things everything was trim and neat. My upper body was bare until a triangular stripe of dark blonde flaring down below the navel. I also have the sense to wear briefs that flatter my average endowment in the front and really show off the work I put into my ass. “ I just wanted to accentuate the difference as much as possible, you know?” I'm smiling now, finally finding the vibe that prompted us to agree to this in the first place. “It. Worked.” At that he drops his shorts and steps out from them, fondling his sack gently after he does. About four and a half inches flaccid, his ample cock is forced forward to drape over his thick, heavy sack. The balls are a quite a bit tighter against him than I'm used to seeing them on cam; maybe he was telling the truth about being nervous. I raise an eyebrow at him and hook my thumbs in the band of my briefs. Slowly drawing them down, I watch his eyes widen as the material cleared my soft cock. His lips part slightly and his breath hitches as I finish sliding them over my feet and stand up for him to appraise. I barely clear three inches soft. It looks bigger because I took the time to trim, but a quick glance down at himself re-affirms that, while I'm almost textbook average, he, quite clearly, is more. Hips forward, he takes an involuntary step toward me, ready to compare the two together. Blood is already starting to redirect itself toward his thickening member. I clear my throat and he steps back again, imploring me with his eyes. “The Rules, remember?” “But we could just-” he starts to protest. “Trust me?” He sighs and nods before turning around to lead me through his bedroom and back into the open space of the loft. The furniture is all moved to the sides and a large mat covers the empty floor. He has the shades drawn down so the neighbours won't be getting a free show. Every light is on, lending the space a garish arena-like feel. I make special note of the island counter that separates kitchen area from the rest of the space – it could be of special use later, depending on exactly how this night plays out. “Wow. Do I even want to know why you happen to have a wrestling mat this size? Where would you even keep this?” That gets a chuckle but he stops just past the bedroom door and gestures with his chin to the other side of the room. I pad past him to turn to face him, legs bent and ready to spring. “That's quite the bed you just led me by. Pretty big, even for you, isn't it.” I smirk to drive the barb home. “Custom-order.” His voice is a little rougher now. We're both almost ready for the chase. “Guess you need something custom to hold the gigantic fucking weight of your sack. I mean, really, are you even strong enough to lift that thing up when you have to take a piss? I think you might have to start doing some extra curls to handle it.” We're quickly heading full dark, no stars now; just our symbiotic kinks centred on his glorious endowment. He quickly rises to the bait. Literally. His cock rapidly approaches full mast, the skin stretching tight around the tip. It's so damn pretty. He glares and crouches down a bit to lunge at me. He gets a bit of a glazed look, clearly plotting what he's going to do if he fully wins. To win though, he has to catch and pin me first. His lip curl into a sneer and he bonafide growls at me,”I. Am going. To own. You.” “You bet your sweet fucking ass you are.” The words come out as a taunt, even though I'm already saluting his victory. It's on then. The temperature in the space rises noticeably as the chase begins. He isn't slow, but he doesn't stand a chance with all the cardio I've put in. Leg day is my favourite and, while I might not squat several hundred pounds, I have put in more than enough hours to add quite a bit of extra bounce to my step. I only have to outpace him for ten minutes for me to be the one to choose how I get to worship him tonight. I tease him through every sprint, every jump, every panting breath. He tries to banter back about my inadequacy but, really, we're here to 'talk' about him and we both know it. “Careful you don't throw out a hip with that thing!” “Awww, is your big thick dick slowing you down? Too much resistance keeping you from getting enough speed to catch me?” “Shut. Up. Pissant.” “Muffin.” Like that's going to happen. The rules specify he wants to know how big he is and for me to mock him about it. I'm not about to forfeit any time soon. The whole experience is like a football drill crossed with an intense zumba class all from somewhere in special-hell. We're both covered in a sheen of sweat and breathing hard from the constant exertion. He went flaccid right after the start – all the movement quickly solving any erection distraction problems that may have occurred. The flopping up, down, and side-to-side of his endowment could be comical if it wasn't so mesmerizing. We're closing on six minutes now – maybe I'm better at this than I thought? “Does any body else hear a helicopter? I swear I hear a helicopter....” Past eight minutes and approaching nine. The idea that I might call the shots is a little shocking. I had every expectation that I would lose. “What kind of host are you, leaving your mammoth cock out on the floor like that? Shouldn't that be draped on a couch before I trip on it or something?” And then 'or something' happens – kind of. I technically trip. There's a sensation of my foot connecting with something warm, soft, and heavy but when I look, there is nothing there. I tumble face-first to the mat, confused, and flip myself over onto my back. He's already there, looming over me with a face-splitting grin. He drops into full straddle and his splayed hand pushes hard on my chest, pinning me to the mat firmly. “Gotcha.” I squirm uselessly. “You have any other tricks to try or are you ready to call it?” I relax and then try a sudden lunge forward but he already anticipated that. He slams me back to the mat, this time pinning my shoulders down and keeping my legs from bracing against the floor for any leverage. I feel somewhat like a pretzel and seriously turned on. “You win.” He leaps to his feet instantly but with a hand extended to help me up as well. I gladly accept and the heady sensation of someone pulling me to my feet causes me to stumble against him. He catches me easily, holding my arms at my sides while keeping me flush against him. The heat of him is sublime, the aromas from our mutual exertion sending a lightning rod to my groin. We're the same height so it's awkward... for me. The weight of his larger equipment forces my struggling cock straight down. I try to wiggle out of his grip but he holds me still, mouth curled up in a slight smile. “Anything wrong?” “I can't, uh” “You can't what?” “I can't get it around....” “Oh? Does something have you pinned?” He's totally gloating. It makes me harder than I thought possible. “Hnnnhnn” “Maybe you need to do some curls.” “Dick curls? That's not a thing.” I was getting pretty desperate. “Bet you it is. What do you want to bet?” He sounds very confident, like he has a dick-curling-guideline page bookmarked on his laptop or something. “Or maybe we should make sure you stay the bigger man?” “I have no doubt about that. You ready for this?” “Fuck. Please?” I'm practically begging and he hears it. It's not like he's fully soft against me and he's starting to fill even more of the limited room down there. He finally lets me take the smallest step back, freeing my hard-on to spring up at it's full size, just brushing his skin. It's a pretty average five-and-a-half inches long and the same around. We both stare down as he expands freely between us now, his bigger rod gobbling up the new space. His bobbing cock knocks mine aside and under itself as he thickens and lengthens more, taking over the gap to accommodate its superiority. I can feel his slick tip straining against my skin - the sensation is sublime as his foreskin drags itself even wider around the head. “You might, mmmm, want to move back a bit. I'm not. Done. Yet.” He finally lets go of my arms and poses with them behind his head. His cock stretches inexorably toward me as it continues to increase in size. He has to be getting close to his full seven-and-a-half inches. He's wider than me as well and my smaller cock is totally eclipsed; I can only see it if I glance from the side. The moist tip makes contact with my pubic bone again and I can't help letting out a moan. I rock ever so slightly against it, sure that he's done but I'm wrong. It pulses back and widens just a bit more. I am absurdly close to cumming. “You were right about the Chase. I don't think I have ever been this hard. Your smart mouth might even make me harder than seven-and-a-half. What do think about that?” “Fuck. Me.” He smirks at that. Not like my response was unexpected. “If you're lucky. Guess I closed the gap...again. Fuck, just look at me.” And I do, of course. There is no denying my absolute worship as I take in the flexed frame of his arms, his heaving chest, the spectacular trail down his abs, and, finally, the monolithic main event pushing against me between his meaty quads. It's physically digging into my pelvis now, ever harder and precious like diamond. He flexes his hips just slightly against me and the unbelievable happens. I stumble back and fall on my ass. The view is godlike, looking up at him like this and I moan again. His eyes go glassy and wide with unbridled lust – he just knocked a person to the ground with the size and strength of his fucking manhood. His first volley catches us both by surprise. It launches over my head almost entirely, a little of the trailing end catches me on the cheek. My mouth reflexively opens wide in shock and anticipation. He grips his cock for the second volley – he has excellent aim and now I've presented him with with an obvious target. It splashes against my lips and into my open mouth. That's more than enough for me to release my own shot up at him. I spray against his legs a few times as he lets loose at me with the rest of what he's got. The third makes contact against my chin spilling upward into my mouth again. Number four and five paint my chest and torso. He pushes out a sixth load and soaks my balls and cock. Seven is finally a dribble but even that makes its way onto my left ankle and heel. “Wow.” He finally manages to pant out. “Yeah. Wow, alright.” I have to lick my lips and wipe my face clear before I'm able to reply. I slowly get to my feet and cup my softening dick in my hands. The smell of him is everywhere - I have never been so thoroughly and utterly marked. “Um, you need to get over here.” There's an edge of fear in his voice. “Hey, I'm right here.” I finish clearing what I can from my face as I come closer. “Good, 'cause you, uh, you need to see this....” He's still holding his hard cock firmly in one hand and it isn't softening. The head of it is pulsing, the skin drawn taught and engorged with blood. The pulsing isn't just that though. His dick swells more, inching it's way ever closer to me with each second. It broadens in his hand, forcing the fingers apart. He starts making a low keening sound in the back of his throat and his eyes begin to flutter like he's cumming again. I brace him by the shoulders as his cock spools out inhumanly between us – when is it going to stop? His body gives a final tremble and his eyes widen as he glances down. He now has more than twice the cock I do – it might be obscene if I wasn't so hard from it. He touches the tips of our cocks together and the size disparity is comically overwhelming. His face breaks out into the largest smile. “I don't know what you did, but thanks? Like the upgrade? Wanna touch it?” I barely get a finger on the fat, meaty shaft before I'm cumming again against his tip. It's more of a dribble this close to my last one but he takes the obvious appreciation in stride and pulls me for a hug. “I'll take that as a yes.” The hug is a little strange with his gigantic erection pressed up between us. It's only a momentary reprieve. We start to feel his dick pushing upward between us and rush to take a step apart. “Umm, you're not quite done yet?” And that's when I notice it. It isn't his cock getting bigger, it's him. His eyes have already risen so I'm looking just below them, then his nose comes into my line of sight, then my gaze falls to his mouth as he continues to grow, and then, at last the top of his chin fills my field of vision. I have to tilt my head back to see his eyes now. “Fuck. Yesssss.” He closes his eyes in bliss as his body starts to gain mass next. The winter bulk melts inward so his already significant muscle mass stands out sharper relief beneath a thinner layer of flesh. His traps rise up a bit and the delts round out significantly to cap his frame. His already ample chest broadens further and the serratus start to pop into view down the sides. The biceps swell into higher, broader peaks in balance to the horseshoe expansion of the triceps. His lats flare out deliciously down to the taper of his waist while his abdomen sculpts itself into a gorgeous six pack. His quads are even more corded now and the calves have a diamond pattern below the skin. The growth ebbs to a halt leaving him a comic-book super-porn version of the already attractive man he was. I reach out in wonder to turn him around but he tackles me to the floor without warning. He straddles me again, this time with his knees pinning down my shoulders. His new-and-improved mammoth tool finally softening directly in front of my face. “Kiss it.” Fuck did I want to. I close my eyes for what feels less than a second. Would that even be safe right now? What if he grew more, while on top of me? Would he just crush me into the floor? My panic must have been unmistakable because I hear his voice prompting me back to reality again, just like with the shirt before this began. “Hey, get out of your head. Open your eyes aaaaand, there you go. Not that tough, right? I don't think it'll bite. And really, you kissing my big dick is totally the kind of thing we've role-played online 500 times. Now there's just, more of it. So, here.” He leans down a bit to make it as easy as possible in my pinned state and my lips meet that gorgeous, swollen glans. The skin in scorching and salty. I tease the tip of it with my tongue milking out some remaining semen. He takes a sharp breath in and I feel his cock stretch into my mouth. He pulls back quickly and leans back on his haunches. “Easy there, I don't think we're ready for what might happen if you do that yet. You remember what I said earlier?” Huh?” I'm entranced by his heavy, pendulous endowment swaying with each movement. “Eyes up here.” He grips my jaw and moves my head so I look him in the face. “Who owns you?” “What?” This wasn't exactly my brightest moment. “I said, Who. Owns. You?” He's growling again. “You do. You won.” It was a theme we often used. My final submission to his superiority – thank fuck he wasn't an asshole. It seemed even more fitting now that he was, well, this new version of himself. “That's right, you're mine.” With that he leans back on his heels, grips my by the chest and stands up with me in his hands. “Hmm, that was easier than I thought.” “Easier than you....?” I limp over to the island to steady myself. “Did you even look at yourself to see what you look like?” “Not...really? It's not like there's a mirror in here or anything.” He's right of course, but shouldn't he have been able to see some of it? “Bathroom. Now.” I start toward the door without waiting to see if he follows. “Mmhmm?” “Stop weighing your junk from hand to hand like a slinky and come look at yourself.” “Yeah, but it's soooo heavy.” He shoots me the dopiest grin. “So's the rest of you.” “Is that a fat joke?” “Just get in here, you dork.” “Fine.” I hear his heavier footfalls approaching the door. He steps into the room and really looks at all of himself in the mirror. “Is that all me?” “Uh-huh.” “Holy fuck! Really?” “Well it sure as shit isn't me, so, yeah.” “That sass though. You sure that's such a great idea right now?” He flexes an arm into a curl in my direction, pitifully failing at a scowl. “Seriously? Get on your scale. We have to see this. Do you have a tape measure anywhere? Bedroom maybe?” He hustles to get on it, I have his full attention now with the numbers. “Right there, top drawer.” Of course he kept in his bathroom. I fish it out while he steps gingerly onto the scale. “I can't. Fuck. I'm...I'm 260 pounds....” “Mmmm. Sweet daddy fuckballs!” “Did you just say sweet daddy fuckballs?” “Shut. It. Stand straight against the wall.” He complies, silently for once. He's taller than I thought – this could be a bit of a challenge. “Need a stool?” He teases. “You'd like that, wouldn't you?” I look around the room for something to make a mark with. “...Maybe.... I mean, I'm already this big so what's a bit more?” Bullseye! Tweezers would do to scratch the paint the tiniest bit. “Okay step out from the wall.” He hovers over me as I stretch the tape from the floor to my mark. I suck in an audible gasp. “Well, what is it?” I turn to look at him, shock and awe apparent. “Six feet, four inches.” His giant dick is coming to life now. “Holy fuck! That's like six inches more I was!” Up and out his member comes. Fuck that thing gets huge. “And 260 lbs.” Full on cock surge from him now. “That's like half a foot taller than you. And 110 pounds heavier.” He eyes me up and down, calculating something while he gently strokes himself harder. I am positive it will be something devious. I also don't fail to notice the switch from inches to feet to describe how much bigger he is than me. “I'm measuring that next, aren't I.” “Mmmhmm” He smirks and keeps stroking. I hold my breath as I do it. I don't think I would be able to stop fondling it if I were breathing normally. It was hot, thick, heavy, the skin blissfully silky to touch. Pulling the tape against it causes a final surge to its magnificent size. The flesh is unyielding as I wrap the tape around his giant fucking hard-on. It takes conscious effort to let out the breath I forget I was holding. I look up at him in full, mindless reverence. “You're 11 inches long and 7.8 inches around. I can't...I can't even....” He leans forward and grips my ass with his larger hand. Lifting me up onto my tip-toes so he doesn't have to lean down as much, he places his lips next to my ear to whisper. “I don't know what happened tonight but, you know what?” His voice is lower, throaty, indescribably sexy. I quiver at the sensation of the sound and breath against my ear. “Um, yes...no...I don't know?” Fuck. Words were not going well again. He was holding me so tight to himself that I felt the corners of his mouth raise into a smile. “I. Want. More.” I was so fucked. Was beyond so fucked because I knew what was coming next. “You want to help me get more, right?”
  13. Links to other chapters: Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 M/M "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" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets Chapter 23 Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, And Makes a New Friend February 10th, 2022 2110 Hours Casey knew he could trust Ensign Victor. Sam was, after all, a muscle worshipper. And Casey was close to the best there was. Casey had long dreamed of his very own muscle worshipper. The legend that bodybuilders are aloof and don’t want to be worshipped? Bullshit. Bodybuilders wanted their very own private worshippers just as much as muscle schmoes wanted bodybuilders. If Casey knew anything at all, he knew that. He’d learned it in LA. And now he was going to tell Sam all about it. And then tell Sam that he knew just exactly what he was. And Sam, of course, was all ears, all solicitation and comfort. Even as he felt his own excitement growing. He felt his cock, too, burgeoning in his trousers, until he didn’t think he could stand it much more. But of course, he’d have to stand it. At least until Casey was finished talking. And so, Sam listened. Patiently, as it happened. And Casey talked and talked. As Sam’s cock got stiffer and stiffer. “So talk about something else. Do you have friends?” “Well. The guys from the cadet dorm, I guess. But I don’t see them anymore. Guess I don’t get out as much as I’d like.” “No friends outside the compound?” “Naw.” “Are the men of The Twenty your friends?” “Well, I’m one of them….” Casey seemed uncomfortable, so Sam moved on. “Family?” Casey looked down, then looked back at Sam. “The Twenty are my family,” he said after a moment. He paused. ‘Guess we seem to be some kind of crazy cult, hunh?” “Kind of, yes.” Casey seemed to want to ask something. Sam half smiled, waiting. Finally he prompted. “Yes?” Casey was clearly embarrassed, but Sam could see determination in his eyes. “It’ll wait. What else?” “Well, how strong are you?” “Pretty strong. Maybe a little stronger than the others. I can bench 800 pounds. Easy. Curl 350. I run really, really fast, too. Oh, and I’m a good diver. I don’t know how that happened, but I am. I can do anything on a diving board. Don’t even think about it. And I look awesome in a Speedo. But I’m not as strong as Moster. Or Abdul. No one is. They could snap me in two.” Casey didn’t mention the Turkish wrestling night when they got covered in oil and he beat Karim Abdul. No sense in scaring Sam by acknowledging that maybe, yeah, just maybe, he was the strongest man there – and just 19. “I don’t believe that.” “Well, maybe not in two. But he could fuck me up pretty good if he wanted to. He’s an extreme fighter.” “I thought you were, too.” “Well, yeah…. .” “You got thrown out of school for fighting.” “Only once. I only fought once,” he said. “Some guy pissed you off?” Casey smiled. “18 guys pissed me off.” “Wow.” “Yeah, wow. I got ‘em all good, though.” “One after the other?” “All at once.” Casey grinned cockily. “I beat the shit out of all of them.” “Why?” “I got tired of them making fun of me.” “They made fun of you? Sounds dangerous.” “I wasn’t as big then.” “No, of course not. Why were they making fun of you?” Casey looked hard at Sam, and bit his lip. Then he shrugged his shoulders as if determined. He stood up, towering over the table. Sam watched him evenly. Casey reached down and unzipped the steel fly of his pants. He reached his hand in and pulled out his enormous, limp cock. He squatted so that his hips were even with the tabletop. It flopped heavily and noisily on the surface. Thwack. "…. And, boom… there it is,” said Casey. “There it is.” He looked up, shrugged and smiled shyly. “Yes, there it is.” “See, it’s really, really big.” Sam took in the tool’s impossible size for a moment, and whistled. “Yes, I see that. Nice,” he said sweetly. “It’s very big.” “It’s huge,” said Casey, with a sweet blend of sadness and pride. “It’s more than a 15 inches long. It’s like a fucking snake with a life of it’s own. I get hard all the time. I could never hide it in anything I wore. The kids at the home used to laugh at me, call me freak.” “They were jealous, no doubt.” “Probably, yeah, maybe, but fuck. But I got so sick of it.” He started to stuff it back into his jeans. “So one night, I beat them all up.” Sam reached out and lightly touched Casey’s hand. “It’s okay. Keep it out.” Casey looked up, hopefully. “You like it?” “I do.” Casey looked hard at him. He was suddenly shy. He wanted to tell Sam about the field trips for worship, and there was a lot more to tell, too. But he wasn’t certain how it would sound. Sam wanted to help him. “Was there a first time you were worshipped by ‘investors’? By a group of men you didn’t know before?” “Yeah…” “For money?” Pause. “Uh hunh.” Casey was clearly now afraid Sam would judge him. “A lot of money?” Casey didn’t quite know how to tell him exactly how much. “I’m not a prostitute.” “No, I know that. You’re not,” said Sam, looking pensively at Casey’s huge penis extending out of his open fly, lying quietly on the tabletop. “What you are is an uncommonly huge, sexual, handsome 19-year old bodybuilder with a need to show … what you have.” Casey looked at him gratefully. Now he knew he was falling in love with the calm young Navy officer. But even here, in the relative safety of his quarters at Valhalla Labs, and with the gym and training rooms and all the other men so close by, and especially after that wacky muscleshow earlier in the evening to the military brass, the sweet-natured muscle giant was suddenly seized with nervousness. But Sam seemed okay with it. And, indeed, he was. “And…how was it? The first time you were worshipped by strangers?” “Okay. I guess it was okay.” He paused, and his eyes flickered a bit. With excitement, at the memory. “Who were they?” “Some Hollywood dudes.” Sam suddenly recalled. Was that last year in LA the night that…? Oh, God! YES. It was briefly in the TMZ reports late last year, the latest conservative blast against the Hollywood Liberal Elite, some big party night that went south and required some hospitalizations and a lot of huge money. And then – silence on it. All stories withdrawn. No word on it. He’d googled it a few times. Nothing. But Casey remembered. In fact, it was incredible – all those fat old rich men schmoes, and then his new friend Mike later on privately swooning, licking his pecs and swooning over his big biceps and with his sweet little face in his hard butt and then closely inspecting with awe his mighty machine…. But he wasn’t quite sure about how all this would sound to Sam. There was a pause. Sam gazed at the muscle monster boy evenly a moment. “You can tell me all about it. I’m not here to judge.” Casey remembered the night. And his new friend, Mike. “I wonder how I’m gonna tell Sam about Mike?” he worried to himself. After a brief pause, Casey made his decision, and manfully, went on with his story. December 5th, 2021 Los Angeles: 2100 Hours The bus pulled up the drive at 9 PM, the first stop of the evening. It was a large cliff side home high in the Hollywood Hills, lavish and dark, with a glimmering Olympic-sized pool in the back and fountains quietly spraying gallons of illegal water. Beyond and far below, the glittering lights of LA shone in the far distance. Zaftig’s longtime off campus associate, the puny weasel Dr. Shaft, would be waiting inside, in attendance with a group of 9 investors, all quite anxious to see the young gods in action. The bodybuilders filed off the bus in the dark. “Golly, who lives here?” asked Hension, awestruck by the size of the house. “Some Hollywood dude movie producer,” muttered Lang. “Who cares? Time to FLEX.” Casey barely noticed. He was eager, for soon he’d be headed back to his private muscle planet, the place he first visited on the morning his cadet buddies came to say goodbye and stayed a little to admire his muscles. He was all ready to flex for these dudes. He neither knew nor cared who they were. Sergeant Moster, who had gotten off the bus first, quietly barked orders in the large circular drive. Moster, who had gotten off the bus first, quietly barked orders in the large circular drive. “Inspection. Strip down, men,” he commanded. “I don’t want to keep our hosts waiting.” The ten musclemen hopped and danced in the half light, removing slacks, baggies, t-shirts, jeans, shorts, underwear, jock straps, thongs, and boots as poor long-suffering Dr. Irving ran from man to man, frantically gathering up discarded clothing, quickly organizing as to owner, and distributing the proper poser to the proper man. Each poser was personally assigned, custom-tailored to cut across inches south of the lower abs, reveal generous slices of meaty glutes in back, and with frontal sag sufficient to generously reveal the top six inches of root and thick, plunging shaft of each man. The side straps, while thin, were sufficiently strong to hold even at top erection. “Oil up, men.” Bottles of mineral oil were passed around, and the men dutifully applied slathers of oil to their muscles. Finally they were ready, their muscles gleaming in the night. “Line up, squad,” said Moster. “Adjust your posers. When you pull your pants down, I want these dudes to see your top six inches of root and cockshaft.” He had stripped down himself and was now rubbing his own oil in to his mountainous black muscles. “I know with some of you that still leaves another 6 inches or more covered up. Right, Casey?” “More,” said Casey. Still, in the dark Casey turned deep red, still immediately shamed by the thoughts of his huge, unhideable cock. He still wasn’t quite over those years of taunting. Which always flashed his thoughts quickly to Tiffany. Good thing the ginger-haired terror wasn’t with them tonight. Casey always performed better when that boy was nowhere near. “Waring, get over here and do my back.” Waring went to Moster, dutifully pouring oil onto his calloused palms, mixing them back and forth as if he was tossing a muscle salad, and smacked Moster’s broad back hard, rubbing thick oil deep into Moster’s wide lats. The Sergeant felt the man’s rough blisters on his back and smiled. “You’ve been working, Private.” “Yes, sir, I sure have, sir.” The men fell into line, and awaited inspection. Moster paced in front of the muscle lineup and critically appraised his special forces team: Alvarez, Lang, Hension, Schumacher, and Waring. Washington, Abdul, Obatu, Gunst and Rockland. Muscle gods all. He nodded his satisfaction. “Line up according to height. Shortest man first. Private Hension, that’s you.” Hension was pushed to the head of the line. “Put the pretty boy first,” guffawed Obatu. Hension colored deeply, embarrassed as always to be referred to as the group ‘pretty boy’, but obeyed orders. “Dr. Irving, distribute White Caps,” Moster ordered. Irving passed the ration of capsules to the group. “It’s going that be that kind of showing, hunh?” chuckled Obatu. He popped a capsule and within seconds began to envision his powerful sexual fantasies come to life. He tugged slightly on his poser and glanced down to make sure the prominent, pulsing thick veins of his mighty dipping cockshaft were showing. He nudged Washington. “Check it out,” he said. Washington nodded. “Suckable,” he said, busily squeezing his own nipples into pointy hardness. Moster crossed behind the men and walked along, surveyed the lineup of rolling, hard, powerful glutes. He nodded. Huge mountains of gleaming, perfect, rock hard butt. “Butthole inspection,” he announced. Corporal Karim wished he had his butt plug with him, but didn’t betray himself with even a flicker across his stern face. He scowled, but even so Moster knew what the man wanted. He glanced down at Karim’s achingly firm glutes. “You clean, Corporal?” he asked. “Yes, sir.” “Good.” Moster knelt, lowered the man’s posers for a moment to quad height, and quickly inserted his thick fist deeply up inside the man’s butthole, up to his wrist. Karim never flinched. Moster rotated his fist, and just as quickly withdrew, with a butthole POP!, noting to his satisfaction that the Corporal was indeed clean. “Keep your concentration.” He wiped his fist with anti-bacterial lube and moved on to the next man. Hension was looking apprehensive. Moster approached him. “Any women inside?” Hension asked nervously. “Why do you ask, Private?” “Sir, for my best performance, sir, I like to get my face slapped first. And during. By a pretty girl with muscles.” “Not here tonight,” said Moster. “Bend over.” “Yes, sir!” Hension bent over, showing his twin glutes of extreme hardness, shape and striation. Moster lowered the muscleboy’s posers, made a fist, and once again plunged his fist up to his wrist up Hension’s taut butthole, twisting, probing and turning. Like Abdul, Hension never even raised an eyebrow as his welcoming rosebud enveloped the powerful fist. He was excited about lay ahead. His cock began its 12-inch journey to solid stiffness. He pulled his posers back up with some difficulty and wrapped the taut cloth as best he could around his growing engine. Alvarez appeared serene. He knew a good Pose and Approve session was ahead. Lang glanced at him and smiled. Alvarez was best with an audience. An admiring audience. His cock twitched in anticipation. Moster was quick with Alvarez, nodding approval, quickly inserting a probing fist, and moving on to Lang, doing the same. Up the drive at the house, a curtain fluttered. Someone was watching. Alvarez nudged Lang. “What?” asked Lang, clueless. “You see that?” “See what?” Alvarez smiled. “This is gonna be fun.” He stood “Let’s see those biceps, Gunst,” Moster commanded. Gunst complied, and flexed his meaty guns. “26 inches this morning, sir.” “Excellent. Turn around and bend over.” Gunst complied and Moster’s fist entered his butthole. He nodded satisfaction. Moster continued down the line of musclemen, inspecting pecs, nipples, hard abs, and ending with each man by inserting a giant fist up an eager butthole. Finally it was Casey’s turn. “Ever been fisted before?” Moster asked crisply. Casey had to admit it. “Yes, sir.” He turned around and bent over, his perfect butt now in Moster’s face, his fists buried in his obliques, jutting out his butt. It was an incredible ass. Two round globes of muscular golden flesh, perfect, hard-as-nails ovals of sleek construction. Powerful, huge, an incredible human loading dock of rounded power. Inside the darkened buttcrack Moster could see close-up the throbbing, inviting deep of Casey’s perfect butthole. Moster plunged his fist in, and turned it, pulling it out again after a minute. Clean as a whistle. “Good work, Rockland. “ Casey stood, turned and smiled. “I think you’re ready.” He turned to the driver, standing by the bus, impassively staring. “Ferdinand, Dr. Irving, come back in an hour. We should be done by then.” Then, quietly, he asked Irving, “Did the money come in yet?” “This afternoon, sir,” answered Irving. “$35,000.” “Good.” Moster took his place at the end of the line. “Shaft here yet?” “Inside, Sir.” Dr. Irving fiddled with his phone, getting frantic texts from Dr. Shaft. “Good. Give the men back their clothes. Men, get dressed.” Much fumbling and hopping about in the dark. Then - “Move out, men.” The musclemen marched into the entranceway of the one-story cliff side glass house and, single file, marched into the brightly lit living room. Inside, nine manicured, pampered, plumpish Hollywood movie execs, dressed in expensive Italian suits, ties down, were draped around the room, propped up on large plush sofas, drinks in hand, cellphones and Blackberries at the ready, waiting inside. Two or three were handsome enough to gain Alvarez’s slight interest. The smell of marijuana wafted through the air. They’d been drinking. And smoking. And snorting lines of coke. In fact, they all appeared smashed. And ready to see serious muscle. The tenth, a slender young man, sat separately, almost shyly, by himself, across the room on a smaller sofa, right before the vast picture window with the lights of LA twinkling in the distance. “Fucking finally! Bring on the talent!” one of the fat schmoes yelled as the men entered. But as the musclemen got into the room and turned, facing their clients, at full attention, the movie dudes were stunned into silence. “Holy shit…look at them!” "Fuckin' A..." For their part, the musclemen were themselves stunned into a moment silence by the lavishness of the room that extended before them, and the extraordinary view of the city through the plate glass windows, far, far below. The drapes had been opened. The moon shone full in the sky. “Wow,” breathed Lang. “Where the fuck are we?” "Fuckin' A is right," whispered Hension. There were a few moments on silence while everyone was amazed, albeit for different reasons. Sergeant Moster was first to retain his composure. "Gentlemen, thank you for inviting us for the evening. We think we have quite a show ready for your personal delectation..." Dr. Shaft rose from a white sofa. Even as familiar with the muscle in the room as he was, he was never less than stunned each time he saw more than three of the bodybuilders together. The sight of ten of them, including the impossibly giant Sergeant Moster, was enough to momentarily knock the air out of him. “Yes, thank you, and good evening, Sergeant Moster. Good evening, men.” He whispered to Moster. "I'll handle this." Dr. Shaft was excited. The men had not only arrived on time, they all looked….well, incredible. Beyond incredible, in fact. Unreal. Inhuman. The years of P-21 meshed with hardcore raw training had built magnificent muscle specimens unlike the world had ever seen before. No bodybuilding contest – and Shaft had attended hundreds – ever had the kind of raw muscular development that stood before them now. It was as if every muscle on every man had a muscle. Heaped pounds of raw lean man beef. It was staggering. Moster hid his irritation, already planning the next black eye he'd happily plaster on Shaft's face in their next private. “Good evening, Dr. Shaft. Men, you all know ....Dr. Shaft.” Hi, yeah, sure, hello, uh hunh, yeah we see him, etc etc, came from the musclemen. “May I introduce the men to their hosts?” asked Dr. Shaft ceremoniously And the lineup of musclemen turned to their agog clients. Hands at their sides, fists clenched, veins popping, tight white shirts wrapped around massive physiques. Legs spread wide. Quads bursting out of slacks. Biceps about to tear shirt sleeves. Fly bulges loomed to the floor. And the clients, schmoes all, stared back. Breathing. Panting. Disbelieving the universe of muscle they were seeing. Alvarez, Lang, Hension, Schumacher, and Waring. Washington, Abdul, Obatu, Gunst. And Casey Rockland. Team leader, the massive Sergeant Moster. The muscle team was here at last. The clients, schmoes all, stared back. Breathing. Panting. “Fuck, man. They’re fucking huge,” said one of the fattest men. He gulped. “Whatta they gonna do to us?” “You mean…what are they going to do for you,” said Sergeant Moster. “May I present…. nine of the most muscular men on the planet today.” He paused, glanced at his watch. “You have two hours.” He turned to the men. “Men, you may go to work.” The men moved into a line, first marching single file and then fanning out towards the edge of the broad staircase leading down to the sunken living room. At the top step they stopped, stood still, and displayed themselves proudly. Below them, the room of wealthy Hollywood elite schmoes fell into shocked silence, turned their heads, and stared agog at the massive muscle before them. The schmoes were seated together, as if for protection, on a heavy plush creamy white sofa, overloaded with soft, luxurious pillows, extending twenty-five feet across the room from the large picture window. It was a perfect setting for bodybuilder muscle worship. And there they stood. Calm. Blank faced. Each man handsomer than the next. Perfect tanned skin. Waistlines no larger than 32 inches on men each weighing up to 300 pounds – and more. It was going to be a insane night of muscle worship. And a profitable one, too. Shaft had been circulating rumors inside the Hollywood mill for years about this army of ungodly huge and handsome musclemen, and finally had assembled just the sample group of mega-rich movers and shakers that he needed for the initial private presentation. This meant big bucks in the future for Valhalla Labs. Sergeant Moster had delivered as promised, in spite of Dr Zaftig’s worry and misgivings back at the Valhalla Lab. But Shaft had faith. He knew these musclemen. He’d had too many private sessions to not know a little about them all by now. As long as they all behaved, that is, and no one got seriously hurt. They were hard to control, he knew, once they really started flexing and posing and showing it all off with feats of ungodly strength and their insatiable need to dominate. He knew all about his own tendency to wind up in the San Jose ER after particularly enthusiastic sessions with Moster. But, damn, he just couldn’t help it. Shaft had to admit the fantasy of Moster’s (relatively speaking) lightly damaging face punches and the spirited butt spankings he received as punishment for his own poor cock and body and his lame cocksucking was, well, just what he deserved, being the worm he was. And the fantasy memory of all that abuse kept him masturbating feverishly for months after. He hoped his Hollywood schmoes might fare a little lighter punishment than the stuff that he was now addicted to – unless of course they wanted the same treatment? But then, it might get picked up as a tasty little news item, all over TMZ. That couldn’t happen. Could it? It could rock the Hollywood establishment. Top studio heads beaten by massive, crazed bodybuilders in bizarre Hollywood Hills muscle showdown. No. That wouldn’t do. It was all pretty dangerous, but, what the hell. Shaft licked his lips with drooling anticipation and inspected the astounding male muscle display that confronted them all. The ten magnificent young men, plus the-even-huger-still Sergeant Moster, were now lined up, beefy shoulder to shoulder, round and perfect tri-headed delts touching massive delts. They stood in a perfect lineup of muscle on the steps leading from the 20’ ceilinged foyer down into the sunken living room. The entry way was a perfect dais for display, more than 40’ long, roomy enough for a panorama of beautiful beef and rippling vascularity unlike anything the staring schmoes down below had ever seen, or even imagined, before. And even fully dressed in tight, tight t-shirts and ferociously clinging tan slacks, the men were an unbelievable sight to behold. As if carefully posed, men all stood casually with their hands planted on powerful hips, legs spread wide. Muscles gleamed and bulged. Physiques rippled enticingly, displayed for delectation in the clinging super-wide white spandex t-shirts. Every vein, every muscular bulge, every pound of sinew, every cut, every hard-packed slab of fatless lean and bulging male beef was on display for the stunned, wealthy Hollywood insiders. “Jesus fucking Christ,” someone mumbled. “Look at them. They’re not human.” Muscle worship was what these muscle giants lived for. Shaft knew that. Well, it was one of the things they lived for. He was fairly certain they also lived for training, lifting, eating, sex with each other and as many partners, male or female, that they could find. And – of course- getting huger every day. But Shaft couldn’t be sure that muscle worship might not be even more important. And of course, it made sense. After all, weren’t they all getting bigger, handsomer, stronger, more muscular, and more aggressive just so they could be worshipped? It hardly mattered, no more than the original intent of Dr. Zaftig all those years ago when he first started research on creating the ultimate team of massive male bodybuilders. For there they were, eleven muscle gods, still and easy, unmoving, posed, both tense and calm, showcasing magnificent, perfect male muscularity. And there were nine others, just as huge, handsome, and hung as the men before them, back at the lab. The atmosphere in the room crackled. And Shaft could feel it now, could even see the musclemen’s eager anticipation of the impeding worship of their physiques. Their excitement was just beginning to show, starting to loom now, like a faint musky aroma, getting stronger, seeping into the room. They seemed to be getting bigger, to be growing before them. They were certainly measurably heavier in their tight slacks, their flies just beginning to bulge forward and droop down with pointed pushing, with throbbing penis weight, their erections about to bloom and show and push out and forward and up inside their tightening pants. And considering the price tag of upwards of $85,000 the Hollywood elite schmoes had laid out for this private muscle show, inwardly he was relieved that it had all started out without the slightest hitch. And the new man, Casey Whatever His Name was, was there, too, there on the end. The handsomest of all? Shaft wasn’t sure. And, per Zaftig’s regular reports, on his way to being the biggest? And only 19 years old, too. The promise that lay ahead. He’d better be, at a price tag of $15,000 just for his appearance. That shorter man was also improbably handsome. Shaft studied the impressively beautiful Chris Hension, with his perpetual half erection always looming in his pants, thick masculine dark brown nipples, devilish smile and darting eyes; he was certainly a square-jawed piece of eye candy. And then there was Alvarez, always with the thick-lipped handsome Lang nearby – moist lips, always slightly shiny, always recently licked, lips that Shaft just knew glided lightly and lovingly up and down, root to head, over the long, thick penis shaft of his muscle husband Alvarez during their after-hours Pose and Approve sessions. And the scary hairy Karim Abdul, glowering in the middle of the lineup, with the shorter beefslab hardass Schumacher right next to him – weren’t they each other’s nemesis? Maybe they got hard posing together? And that giant Gunst, he of the amazing nearly 28 inch biceps. Shaft hurried over to Moster, just stepping down into the sunken living room, extending a wet hand. “Sergeant Moster, we’re so glad to see you -- ” He was suddenly cut off. Suddenly, from that muscle dais above, came an outraged roar. “Are you who the fuck I think you are?!!!” It was Gunst. He was shouting now, pointing down at someone in the room, at one of the waiting shmoes. All stopped and turned, stunned into silence. On the sofa was sprawled a fat, unshaved, tall mass of slob schmoe, who looked up from his phone, startled and scared. “Yeah, YOU, You FUCKING ASSHOLE!” “Do I know you…?” the schmoe blubbered. “I know you! You fucking asshole! I know you! You preyed on my sister!” Gunst was roaring now. “Get that worthless worm over here!” Waring and Lang stepped down, as if on cue, striding manfully into the room, heading to the creamy white sofa, then grabbing and holding down the particularly fat and ugly Hollywood former studio head, now sprawling agog, to prevent him from bolting. “Never mind, I’ll fuck him up myself…. ” Striding forward, every muscle in his massive frame now quivering with rage, Gunst pushed past Waring and Lang and into the room. The man was an impressive, fearful sight, his veins throbbing, ripped muscle on a mission, his huge pecs roiling and bursting in his tight t-shirt, his piston-thick arms slabs of disciplined beef, his fists clenched and ready to do damage. Casey was stunned. His mouth open, agape. He’d never heard the normally gentle giant Gunst so angry before, never even envisioned it. And he seemed crazed, pointing down at the terrified schmoe, accusing, now standing wide-legged and in full aggressive mode. “You don’t know me!” he screamed. “I don’t know you, either! What is this??? Dr. Shaft??” Shaft came forward, frightened but trying to maintain control. “Corporal Gunst?...” he started. He suddenly felt Moster’s hand on his shoulders, stopping him, pulling him back. Shaft tripped and fell on the carpet. Moster helped him up, shot him a quick look and a little smile, and putting a finger to his lips, shook his head. He mouthed, “No no.” He smiled. Shaft froze and, regaining his balance, stepped back, and did as he was told. Gunst was now standing above the cowering, terrified schmoe, roaring, his legs spread wide, his thick fists plunged into his obliques, ripped intercostals bulging like bricks, htting a powerful front lat spread. He rotated on his heels to show his lats at different angles. His pecs soared to the ceiling, his nipples went taut and pointed downward to the floor, bulging in his t-shirt, the luscious brown areola outlined. “You wanna see muscles, you fucking asshole?? check out these muscles!!! FUCKING WORTHLESS WORM!!! I’M GONNA SHOW YOU WHAT THESE BIG MUSCLES CAN REALLY DO!!!” From the facing sofa by the picture window, the small pipsqueak pencil neck schmoe was seemingly ignoring it all. Transfixing, he was staring directly at Casey now, seemingly unaware of the threatening Gunst, who was apparently on the verge of beating the fat schmoe to death right across the room from him. Casey, ever sensitive, knew he was being stared at. He turned his head slightly and returned the pencilneck’s gaze. He smiled. The pencilneck smiled back, tentative, shy. Casey began to do a slow, subtle, bubbling pec dance in his t-shirt, his mammoth chest bouncing slightly, right to left, left to right, his nipples taut and pushing powerfully into the tight fabric. He smiled a little more broadly. “You like that?” he mouthed. The pencilneck stared and nodded slightly. He did like it. Gunst was now in full flex fury mode. He glided from his threatening front lat spread into an equally threatening front double biceps. POW! he shouted, Just Look at these fucking guns! BOOM! His monster biceps broiled with iron packed sinew, laced with mammoth, pulsing cephalic veins. BAM!!! he added, extending his meaty arms to their full length, working the fingers of his powerful fists before clenching them into furious fist-weapons. “These are muscles, asshole!” he shouted. “And they’re comin’ to get YOU!” And then he bent, slowly, inexorably, coming closer, this huge mass of muscle and rage, smashing his fist in his meaty palm, and grabbed the schmoe by the shirt front, pulling his terrified ugly face up to his spitting, furious mouth. “I’m gonna FUCK YOU UP. I’m gonna beat the shit out of you, and I’m not even gonna touch you with THESE fists. I’m JUST gonna do it with my pecs. And then with my dick. I’m gonna beat your face bloody with my pecs and my dick!” The schmoe was blubbering now. Casey regarded it all somewhat calmly. He’d seen such behavior before at the Home, of course, and the Twenty were always wild and crazy like this on the gym floor, particularly during White Cap workout nights. They often beat the shit out of each other, bounding back for more. Nothing new here. What’s more, he figured it was probably all an act. Gunst was probably being paid for this interesting little muscle play. It was all working, of course, because none of the other musclemen had moved, as if they knew what was coming. And if there had been any serious, real danger, Karim Abdul and Moster, whose combined strength couldn’t even be gauged, would have stepped in to pull Gunst back and subdue him. More to the point, now he realized he recognized the schmoe from online. Something about how he had abused women for 30 years or more, and was now out of the studio, nationally shamed. Some big fat slob who ruined women’s careers if they didn’t fuck him. But he was still super rich, and he’d profited off of his exploitation and cruelty. Now set adrift in the Hollywood community and unable to work ever again, he was still worth several hundred million, and was not feeling any pain. Until tonight, of course. Now he was gonna get what he deserved. Still, Casey was more interested in his potential new friend, who seemed sober, quiet, respectful, and agog at the size of his muscles. That was just the way Casey figured he’d like them. Quiet and worshipful. As he walked over to the distant sofa, his cock twitched heavily, rolled in his pants, and began to point and grow. His new little fan seemed to be the exception in the room. He sat alone on his sofa across the room, maybe 20 feet away from the group of fat schmoes on the long couch. He was just staring at Casey, longingly, neither talking nor texting. Standing before him now not six feet away, Casey smiled in a friendly way. The pipsqueak smiled back, staring at Casey’s physique and handsome face and his ever-growing crotch bulge, blooming in his tight slacks. Tentative, nervous, a little frightened, shaking. “Hi,” said Casey, friendly. He got closer and extended a huge paw. “I’m Casey.” “I know. I’m….I’m Mike.” Mike reached up to shake hands, frightened and brave, his soft little hand covered by Casey’s enormous mitt. He stared at the pumping forearms as Casey gently shook his hand. He was very careful not to crush the little guy’s fingers. The fat slob was screaming now. “Hey, I’m just here to see a little muscle! You want money? I got a lot of money! I'll give it to you. Leave me alone!! Don't hurt me!!!” Gunst laughed nastily. “You just wanted to see a little muscle??? How about FUCKING HUGE MUSCLE??” He started slapping the man lightly across the face, back and forth, little humiliating stinging slaps that popped and smacked in echoes bouncing across the vast living room. “Ouch. Ouch! Leave me alone….!” “You belong to ME, asshole.” Gunst scooped the fat man (who must have weighed 300 pounds or more) up from the deep, sheltering confines of the plush sofa cushions. Effortlessly swinging the screaming man wide above his head, the man’s legs and feet flying in a circle around the work, Gunst swept the slob high above his head and held him there. Carrying him from the room, he yelled back to Waring and Lang, “You boys can join me later when you’ve finished with this group. But for now - he’s mine!” He turned his head up to the impotently squirming producer and lowered him down to meet his face. He spat his words. “Come to think of it, I’m gonna start you out nice and easy. You like glutes? How about some world-class musclebutt? I sure hope so. Casue I’m gonna sit on your face for the next 45 minutes. You’ll get to see my muscleass up close and personal….” And then they were gone, down the corridor. Silence. The schmoes staring, transfixed. “What was all that about? Who is that guy?” Hension whispered loudly to Obatu. Obatu shrugged. “Some movie producer.” “So why did Gunst go off on him like that?” “Maybe he didn’t like his movies.” “Private client,” said Alvarez. “It’s a put-up job. Extra money.” “This guy is paying Gunst to park his muscle ass on him for 45 minutes?” “No.” Alvarez smiled and whispered back. “The dude’s wife. Extra credit for public humiliation.” “Are the bedrooms through here?” Gunst asked, in the distance, his voice now conversational. “Noooooo…!” screamed the fat man. Down the hall they could hear a door opened. “Would in here be good for you?” Gunst asked calmly. “It’s good for me.” The schmoe’s screams continued for a moment, even after the door was closed. And then, they stopped. Very suddenly. Replaced by another sound, that could only be described as “mmmmpppphhhllllfffffffff…!!!... ..uuummmmm…” Presumably Gunst had undone his belt, lowered his slacks, squatted down his naked perfect butt, and was now getting comfortable on the man’s face. “Let me know if you have trouble breathing,” they heard him say, as if he was asking to pass the salt. Mike had watched in silence, his face surprisingly unexpressive. Unfrightened by Gunst’s outrage. That was interesting. He was clearly more nervous about Casey’s unanticipated friendliness. Casey turned back to the roomful of rich Hollywood schmoes, now numbering eight. For schmoes was what they were, and now, Casey had a pretty good gut level understanding of what a schmoe actually was. A schmoe was a creepy, ugly, fat, rich guy who was clueless, mean, selfish, liked musclemen, and was willing to pay his pleasure, and assumed money was all he needed. That was a schmoe. Casey’s lip curled in contempt. And far from frightened or intimated by the display of alpha male dominance Gunst had just performed, effortlessly carrying a kicking and screaming man over his head and out of the room, the schmoes were now quietly giggling, texting, snorting coke and toking up. They seemed to have enjoyed what they just witnessed. Nasty fuckers, thought Casey. He turned back to little Mike. “You’re not like those other guys.” “No.” “Why are you here, then?” “…..well….it’s my house.” Holy Shit. The Jackpot. That was fast. “Really? This is your place?” Mike nodded. “Yes.” Casey went to the point. “You like big muscles?” Casey asked, excited now. No sense in wasting time with pleasantries, although truth to be told, Casey probably had never heard the word before. “Yes, I do.” “Okay, then, watch this. All for you.” Casey moved fast into a front lat spread, rotating from side to side. “See these fucking pecs? They’re huge. You like this?” Casey’s shirt stretched and seemingly groaned from the strain. “….Golly….” Mike was breathing heavily. “Will ya look at that…?” His hand involuntarily moved to his crotch. Casey winked at him, nodding and smiling, reeling off his obvious talents. “Obliques, intercostals, abs like bricks, pecs like cannonballs, all hard and solid. And that’s just for starters. Here’s a most muscular crab shot.” His shirt fabric began to tear as his muscles exploded with sinew, mass and popping veins. “How about big guns?” he asked, flexing his brutal biceps. “26 inches,” he whispered proudly. “These guns measure 26 inches. You wanna touch ‘em?” Mike nodded, dumbly, reached out with tentative fingers, as Casey bent down to offer a closer view of his huge guns. “Touch ‘em! Go ahead and feel ‘em. Stroke ‘em. Ever felt anything so hard?” Mike’s fingers lightly caressed Casey’s 26 inch right biceps. “Wow,” he breathed, and stared up into Casey’s eyes. “I got great glutes, too,” he said conspiratorially, bringing his face now close to Mike. “It’s the ass of death. You’ll see. You can see them later. Really awesome.” Hey, he thought. This guy was kinda good-looking. Maybe he only weighed about 135, but he was cute. And probably really rich. Casey got even closer, flexed that powerful biceps right under Mike’s nose. “See that vein? It’s like a snake, watch it now…go ahead, lick it. Yeah. That’s right. Lick…” “Casey,” warned Moster. “Not yet.” Casey turned back, straightened up. “Yes, sir,” Casey said. “Join us,” said Moster. Casey looked at Moster, nodded, “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” And then returned to look down at Mike for a second. “Just a moment. I’ll be right back. He wants us to flex for your buddies. Don’t be scared. It’s just an act.” Mike was nodding feverishly. Casey could see his fly was bulging, and the bulge was not bad. Not bad at all. Maybe he was hung a little? He hoped so. “Well, you shouldn’t be scared,” Casey added. “The guys may beat up those other assholes a little, but I’ll protect you. I’m strong. You won’t get too hurt. And I’ll flex for you, and you can suck my dick awhile, and play with my glutes, and I’ll suck your dick, too, and maybe I’ll even fuck you, if you can take it. You can fuck me! Your butthole big enough? We all good?” Mike nodded, breathless, staring. “Great!” Casey was excited. This was going to be fun. “I like being worshipped! It’ll be dope. Hang on. This’ll only take a second. You wait.” The words came in a rush. “I…can wait….sure.” “Awesome. I’ll be right back.” Casey bounded back and rejoined the team. He readied himself, changed his face, scowled, and looked mean. Moster hid his smile. He was mightily amused. He should have foreseen that Casey would somehow ferret out the one dude who was signing the checks. The other men of the Twenty were, at the end of the day, too narcissistic to note personalities, character, differences, subtleties. For them, it was only about dominating, posing, flexing, showing off muscle. And the schmoes? Like any muscle lovers who lived closeted, rich, narrow, spoiled lives, they were only in it for themselves. But Casey definitely had possibilities. Moster made a mental note. He must remember not to mention this to Dr. Zaftig. Then he spoke, and his voice brooked no dissent. “Gentlemen, you will now silence your devices. Per the agreement in our mutual contract, there are to be no pictures taken, no recorded video, no texting, no emails, Instagram, Facebook or tweets.” There was a pause. Mike pulled his phone from his pocket and switched it off, looked up at Casey, and smiled. The schmoes stared up at Moster, not moving. “I’m waiting.” Still nothing. “Boys?....” said Moster quietly. Together with Casey, the nine muscle giants took a step towards the big sofa, alert, ready hands at their sides. There was a tense pause. “I didn’t sign any agreement…” one of the schmoes started to protest.
  14. 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.
  15. First Chapter: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1131-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-one/ Previous Chapter: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12351-transformation-part-i-mutation-chapter-fourteen/ Author’s note: This is the final chapter of Part 1. Waaayyyyy late. As a reminder, the story takes place in 2011 with flashbacks to 2001. CHAPTER FIFTEEN The air was thick with nervous anticipation as the rumble of the low-flying passenger jet faded. I wondered if Manhattan had ever been so quiet. If it was maintaining the same direction we had observed, it flew south along Fifth Avenue. I wondered how long it would take it to reach 34th Street and then how long the sound of the feared impact would take to return to Sheep Meadow. I felt Matt looking at me and turned to face him. His face was completely white. “Now,” he said without emotion … and right on cue, echoing up the canyons of Fifth and Sixth Avenues, rolled the distorted, metallic and seemingly inevitable … BOOM. Cries. Shrieks. Disbelief. Confusion. Already I have failed to protect them. I watched as the vast and closely packed mass of people grew restless. Some turned to me, I assumed for direction or to see how I would respond. Others were pushing toward the east, presumably to look southward on Fifth for visual confirmation of what we all feared. Matt was furiously poking at his iPhone. I still had no idea what to do and looked at Hank. “If they start to panic, you gotta shut ‘em down,” he said as if sensing my need for direction. “People will get trampled,” I said. He nodded slowly. “You worried ‘bout that?” His question almost hurt. “Of course I am,” I said defensively. “I’m probably the most compassionate person you know.” “Not when that switch flips in your head.” He was right but I had no answer for him. I ignored his observation and had decided to make my way over to Fifth Avenue when Matt announced what everyone had most feared. His face twisted with desperation, he held up his iPhone so that I could see the screen and looked at me. “It hit the Empire State Building.” Thousands of voices filled the air as people began shoving in all directions. …the air filled with screams and shrieks. A woman very near me was yelling “Oh my god! Oh my god!” repeatedly. I felt the ground vibrate and turned my head to the left in time to see the South Tower collapsing in on itself with a thunderous roar. I stared at it, eyes wide, refusing to believe what I was seeing. As it fell it transformed into an immense cloud of billowing dust and debris that expanded rapidly in our direction. I could see the leading edge of a roiling tsunami of debris rushing toward me yet I remained locked in place, frozen like a deer caught in headlights. Two people fleeing the angry cloud bumped into me before Hank seized my hand… Although I wasn’t moving, I realized that I was panicking as well. “Jamal,” Hank prodded. “NOW.” I took a deep breath as I raised my tremendous arms toward the sky. “YOU WILL STOP AND REMAIN CALM!” I bellowed as loudly as I thought those near me could bear. Then as quickly as the cacophony of voices began, it faded. The crowd was still. And the rumble of an approaching jet drifted down from the north. Not fucking again. “YOU WILL CALMLY RETURN TO YOUR HOMES,” I ordered before turning back to Hank and Matt. “Except you two.” Once again, everyone seemed to obey me, although mindfully rather than as the zombies they had appeared to be earlier. People were again moving in all directions, but now in an orderly and deliberate manner. Despite their obedience, I was extremely frustrated. “All this power and I can’t do shit to stop an airplane,” I complained. “Have you tried flying?” Hank asked. I scowled. “Do I look like Superman?” “You look like you could totally kick his ass.” “I can’t fly, Hank.” I looked at Matt, whose expression became thoughtful. “Have you tried?” he asked. As ridiculous as it sounded, I had to admit that I hadn’t tried, so I squatted down on the turf and extending my legs with all my might, thrust upward with the hope of launching myself into the air. Instead, my feet plowed down into the earth with such force that a huge cloud of dirt and grass erupted skyward and outward. I rose maybe fifty feet into the air and then slammed into the ground again as the cloud of dirt rained down around me. I found myself face down in a crater of my own making. “I guess that settles that,” I said. I pushed myself up and looked around. Both Hank and Matt were covered with dirt. The roar of the jet grew closer. “What kind of god are you, anyway?” Hank asked impatiently as he brushed himself off with his uninjured hand. “A god that can’t fly,” I said as I climbed to my feet. The approaching jet grew louder. I looked at my loyal companions. Suddenly, I knew what to do. “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” I told them. “Hank needs medical attention,” Matt said. “We’ll catch up with you later.” I briefly froze, ashamed and angry with myself for forgetting about Hank’s right hand. They were already turning away from me. “Wait!” I said. They turned back to face me. “If Terry is right, my cum should heal your hand.” “There’s no time!” Matt called out. “Deal with that plane and we’ll meet you at home!” “Let’s find Terry,” Hank suggested as they disappeared into the crowd. I sprang into action. Thrusting a bit more carefully with only my left leg, I leapt toward Central Park West. If I couldn’t fly, I could at least cover the few hundred yards to the avenue very rapidly. Right, left, right, left. In a matter of seconds, I reached the street, which was backed up southbound as far as I could see, and found a vehicle that would do. A heavy tow truck sat trapped in traffic in the left-hand lane. I bolted for the cab, pulled the door off and dropped it. “Sorry, I need to borrow your truck,” I said to the slack-jawed driver as I reached in and pulled him from his seat. The jet roared overhead at perhaps a thousand feet as I set him down. There was no doubt. It was heading directly toward the World Trade Center. “Please stand back,” I warned as I tilted the vehicle onto its right wheels just enough to reach the undercarriage. Seizing the frame, I lifted the truck overhead and tilted it back until I could see the jet. Carefully, for I didn’t want to apply so much force to the frame that the truck would tear itself apart, I placed one foot well ahead of the other, stretched my arms back as far as I could without falling backward, and hurled it toward the rapidly disappearing jet with all my might. The sound and force of the sonic boom created by the truck’s rapid acceleration took me by surprise and I instinctively winced as windows in all directions shattered. The asphalt beneath me also shattered and deformed as the power of my throw drove my bare feet several inches back and down into the pavement. I looked up and to the south to see the truck quickly overtake the jet. It slammed into the starboard engine, most of which tore free from the wing in an explosion of ignited fuel. A rain of machinery, large and small, fell across what must have been Hell’s Kitchen. What did I just do? What if this was a coincidence? What if its flight path was totally innocent? The new tower isn’t even to full height yet, why would it be a target? I wished Matt were with me. Somehow, he would know. The jet was beginning to veer toward the west when it disappeared behind the buildings to the south. The now familiar feeling of helplessness returned. I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea what to do next. I was in no way prepared to lead or protect anyone. Car alarms were going off right and left. The wail of sirens pierced the air. I looked around. I was standing in the middle of the street, buck naked, with my flaccid penis hanging down to my knees. Even with my feet driven six or so inches into the pavement, I was at least seven feet tall and towered over most of the people who had gathered around me. To my relief, they weren’t being submissive. Though certainly in awe of me, they were also shocked and curious. It was the truck driver who spoke first. “Wha … what was that?” He said. “I thought that plane was heading for the World Trade Center,” I explained. “I wanted to take it down.” “You threw that tow truck like it was a baseball, man!” A teenage boy said. “You’re like Superman but super swole!” I stepped out of the hole I had made in the street. Everyone backed away a few steps. A few did fall to their knees. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt anyone.” At least not intentionally. “I’m here to….” I hesitated, uncertain of what to say. I’m here to rule the world? I’m here to clean up the mess we’ve made? “I’m here to protect you. Protect the Earth.” “Like Superman!” The teenager said excitedly. I furrowed my brow. “I can’t fly,” I said as if it were a failing. The situation was very surreal. I was having an almost casual conversation with a group of strangers. No one was worshipping, as they had been only moments earlier. Most weren’t bowing down before me in deference as they had been all week. They were simply acting like … people. Although I did enjoy being worshipped, at least at times, I realized that I didn’t expect or need it. I found I liked this dynamic much better. “Who are you?” A male voice asked. Then everyone was speaking, both talking amongst themselves and asking me questions. “What are you?” I heard a different man ask. “You’re the guy everyone has been talking about,” a woman this time. “The muscle guy on YouTube!” “Damn, he’s even bigger now.” “The Empire State Building has been hit by a plane!” I heard a woman scream. “He keeps growing.” “Check out his dick man! Talk about the dick of death!” I looked around me again. So many people were talking and gathering and gawking that I couldn’t make out what they were saying. This wasn’t getting anyone anywhere. I held up my arms. “Everyone!” I said. The crowd fell silent. “I want you all to go home and wait for instructions from the city. There could be more attacks.” And I’m going to do my best to stop them. They may not have been worshipping me, but they were completely obedient. As the crowd dispersed, I considered running down to 34th Street to see if I could help. Then I stopped in the middle of the traffic-snarled street and looked down. My massive chest filled my vision, blocking my view of the rest of me below it. My cock was soft, hanging, nestled in front of my giant quads where I couldn’t see it. I looked back up and blinked. Somehow, for the first time in a week, I felt completely at home in my radically changed body, as if I were just Jamal. “One thing has ended,” I said softly. “And something new begins.” Late afternoon had given way to evening. Hank kept hold of my hand as we continued down West Broadway toward Ground Zero. I didn’t understand why. He had never wanted to hold hands when we were together. Of course, I was holding his hand as well and I didn’t know why I was doing that either. It felt nice. I still loved him. I missed him. It was an odd form of torture. I assumed that he was taking me down town to Church and Barclay, where we had first met, where we saw the south tower fall, where our journey together had begun, in some misguided attempt to observe our anniversary, such as it was. I hadn’t been this close to the World Trade Center site since that day and as we approached, my anxiety grew. It was more than the location of thousands of lost and destroyed lives. It was the scar left by religious fanatics – terrorists. It was a demonstration of the danger of radicalization. It was yet another example of the horrors that we as humans are capable of. We stood at the crosswalk across Chambers and waited for the light to change. I felt as if we had entered some kind of negative energy field of anger and grief, vengeance and hate, and worst of all, failure. My failure. I didn’t want to go closer. My palms grew sweaty. I could feel Hank staring at me. He tapped my forehead gently. “What’s goin’ on in there?” he asked. “What’s wrong?” “This is really hard,” I said. “Being so close. It makes me … I don’t know … I guess I’m scared.” “Scared,” he said doubtfully. “You climb around on I-beams like a monkey all day while hundreds of feet in the air and you’re scared.” I didn’t reply. The light changed. Hank continued holding my hand as we walked the few remaining blocks to our destination. He stopped in front of a parking garage. The parking garage. I was angry and confused. I had almost died here. Karen had died here. “This is it,” he said. My temper flared. “Why are we here?” I said crossly. “Why…” But Hank put his finger over my mouth. “Shhhhhhhhh,” he said gently. “It’s okay. I brought you here to thank you.” I looked inside the brightly lit entrance to where I had carried Karen, where we had been found. “Thank me for what?” “You’re wrong, Jamal. You didn’t fail Karen. You helped her,” his voice broke and his eyes glistened with gathering tears. “You found her injured and scared and brought her here. What was the last thing she said to you?” I remembered it so clearly. I felt her kiss me on the cheek. “Thank you,” she managed to whisper in my ear... “Thank you,” I said, looking down at the sidewalk. “She said, ‘thank you.’” “Yeah. Exactly. You rescued her and made her feel safe. She fell asleep and died feeling safe.” Tears were streaming down his face. I had never seen Hank cry before and I suddenly felt very selfish for blaming myself for so long. He smiled through the tears. “So I wanna thank you too,” he said as he continued looking into my eyes. I was at a loss for a moment but before my throat tightened too much, I managed to croak “you’re welcome.” Then I was on all fours, draining a year’s worth of pain onto the indifferent concrete in the form of heavy tears. * * * A few hours and several drinks later, Hank and I stumbled out of an upscale bar on West Houston Street and into the night. Traffic on the one-way street was light but the sidewalks were alive with a surprising number of pedestrians. We headed back to my flat. He had his huge arm around my shoulders as we walked, oblivious to the wake we created as people were forced around us. “Thanks for doing this today,” I said. “I feel a lot better.” Hank smiled and looked at me. “One thing’s ended,” he slurred. “An’ somethin’ new begins.” I didn’t know what the future held for us, but I was confident that we could at least be friends. Most importantly, I felt optimistic for the first time in a year. I ran south on 10th Avenue as fast as I could without destroying everything in my path. Propelling myself down the middle of the street at highway speeds without colliding with oncoming cars or pedestrians in crosswalks was challenging, but so far, I’d managed to run several blocks without causing any serious damage. I quickly learned just how much force to apply with my legs to leap over a car versus a truck or bus. Someone with a radio had reported that a plane had crash-landed near the Pier 51 playground and fallen into the river. I knew exactly where the playground was. It was only blocks from my apartment. As I raced down the avenue through Hell’s Kitchen, I again second-guessed my actions. The new tower was designed and built to survive the impact of a jumbo jet. Any damage caused by ramming an airliner into the building would be limited. I knew guys who were working on it. I had worked with many of them before. Some were second or third generation ironworkers whose fathers had built the Twin Towers or even whose grandfathers had built the Empire State Building. In fact, I didn’t apply to work on the project because I didn’t want to displace a man who had earned the right to place and connect those I-beams. It was sacred. And though I didn’t participate, I was familiar with its design and it would take much more than an aircraft impact to bring that building down. Of course, 1WTC wasn’t the only possible target. It was certainly the most symbolic, but perhaps the terrorists had set their sights on another building. Or perhaps it was something else that I hadn’t considered. Or perhaps there wasn’t another target at all. Had I saved a skyscraper from destruction at the hands of terrorists or knocked an aircraft with hundreds of innocent passengers out of the sky for no reason? I raced by the location of the Hudson train yard and by the time I had left it far behind, I became convinced that I had overreacted. But then I was there. The Meatpacking District. Gansevoort Street. An American Airlines 777 that was halfway into the river nose first. The pilot had tried to land on the highway, but in the process took out a few cars, traffic lights, trees, and streetlights as it slid partially into the river. Traffic was backed up in all directions and a growing crowd of people was gathering in a semi-circle starting around 100 feet away from the aircraft’s tail. No emergency vehicles had arrived yet. There probably weren’t any available. I leapt over the crowd so that I was between them and the jet and turned to face the now even-more-shocked faces. “I NEED EVERYONE TO BACK AWAY,” I announced in what Matt had called my “god voice” before turning to face the jet and evaluate the situation. Most of the starboard engine was missing of course, but surprisingly, at least to me, there was no fuel leaking from the wing nor was there any sign of fire. Equally strange was that all of the exit doors remained closed. The passengers weren’t being evacuated. But answers to those mysteries would have to wait until I got it out of the water. The nose of the aircraft was mostly submerged, the tail far overhead and out of my reach. I needed to pull it out by the rear landing gear, preferably both sets at the same time. If only I had an extra heavy chain… And there it was – to my right, along the edge of the sanitation department’s pier, was a chain of massive iron links. It was perhaps 50 yards long and threaded through a long line of steel posts. In no time I had pulled it free of the posts and snapped it in half. Wrapping one end of each segment around the two landing gear struts, I twisted the foot-long links together with my hands, essentially welding the loops closed. Only a few minutes after my arrival, I had the free ends of the two chains in my hands and was pulling them taut. The aircraft groaned. The pressure of my feet against the concrete pavement caused it to fracture. I slowly pulled it backward and as the aircraft began to move, I wondered how much weight I was dealing with. Each of the two chains must have been several tons, and the aircraft itself? Hundreds of tons? But its weight wasn’t important, for even as the fuselage of the jet dragged against the concrete and the nose lifted out of the water, even as the front landing strut snapped off as it encountered the edge of the embankment, I barely noticed any resistance at all. It was like pulling my little red wagon as a child when it was empty – effortless. I had just sprinted a few miles in minutes. I was filled with anxiety and guilt. I should have been awash in sweat and adrenaline but was not. My heart, or whatever was pulsing in my chest, did so calmly and slowly. My body had transformed into something seemingly indestructible, but my mind was as human as ever. The jet was completely out of the water. Stripped of its front landing gear, the nose of the aircraft rested on the embankment. I leapt up onto the starboard wing and sinking my fingers into the aluminum skin of the cabin, pulled one of the doors free and tossed it aside. My eyes adjusted instantly as I peered inside. The aircraft was empty. There were no passengers. There were not even any seats. Instead, two rows of large unmarked boxes, each a cube perhaps 6 feet in all three dimensions, stretched down the center from front to back for roughly half the length of the fuselage. I stepped all the way in and turned to the right with the intention of checking the cockpit. What looked like four parachute packs hung in the cabin a short distance away. “Freeze!” A male voice barked from behind. “Do not move!” I turned around. “I said DO NOT MOVE!” There were two men in dark blue military uniforms that I didn’t recognize, each with what appeared to be an automatic weapon trained on me. They were perhaps 50 feet away and wore masks of some kind. I couldn’t see their faces, but their skin was white. I briefly wondered if their weapons could harm me but it seemed unlikely. “Are you the pilots?” I said. “What’s in these…” “SHUT UP!” The man on the right, presumably the one in charge, yelled. “Do not move!” he repeated. I found myself wishing I knew how to control my ability to force submission but I could no more consciously turn it on as I could turn it off. I began walking toward them. “FREEZE!” The lead barked again. “One more step and I’ll fire!” “No!” his companion whispered in earnest. “You’ll kill us both.” Both men sounded as American as I or Hank or Matt. I paused for a moment. Something was very wrong. The aircraft was painted in the livery of American Airlines, yet the interior was completely generic. No logos, no flags, no markings of any kind. The men’s uniforms were equally generic and devoid of insignia. I listened as they continued to talk in what they believed to be tones I could not hear. If anyone else were standing at this distance they would have been correct, but I could understand them perfectly. Though impatient, I remained still as ordered. “Whoever this freak is just pulled this aircraft out of the river single-handedly,” the lead said. “We have to neutralize him or get him off this jet.” “What if the bullets bounce off of him and detonate the cargo?” The other man asked. Detonate the cargo? The lead scoffed. “Are you an idiot?” He looked at me. “Step out onto the wing,” he ordered, but I had run out of patience. “How about you put your toys down,” I said as I resumed walking toward them. The lead man immediately fired dozens of rounds from his weapon, which hit my chest and except for a few that somehow lodged in my chest hair, indeed did bounce off in various directions. As I drew nearer though, his hands began shaking and he dropped to his knees without a word. “That’s better,” I said calmly as I continued to approach. “Now tell me about your mission.” Then, in a moment of unexpected self-control, he turned his gun toward one of the cargo containers to my right and fired into it. At the same time, his subordinate, who had fallen next to him, cried “NO!” as he tried to reach for the weapon. But it was too late. The echo of his plea had not even diminished when the container exploded. The last thing I saw as the force of the blast propelled me toward the vaporizing fuselage and into the early afternoon sun was the detonation of the surrounding containers. * * * The sound and sensation of water flowing around me nudged me to consciousness and I opened my eyes. I was on my back in the fountain in Austin J. Tobin Plaza, gazing up at the vertically striped white towers of the World Trade Center, which soared forever upward into a deep blue sky – the South Tower to my left, the North Tower to my right. The cool water from the fountain ran gently around my shoulders and arms. I remained there for some time, staring into the cloudless sky. I could hear only the wind and water, feel only the sun, breeze, and gentle current. I couldn’t remember feeling so relaxed. There were no voices, no sounds of traffic, no airplanes… “Jamal!” Hank’s voice called. No airplanes. I bolted upright, my heart pounding against my ribcage. “Jamal!” Hank called again. “You hafta stop the plane!” I leapt to my feet and quickly surveyed the plaza. It was completely empty. No one was in sight. “Hank?” I called out. I felt a tap on my right shoulder and spun around to face the fountain. Hank was standing directly in front of me, looking exactly as he had when we met. The wind was at my back and blew around me, lifting his long, copper hair as if he were facing into a fan. I looked up into his eyes, which were unusually large and smoky again. “Where did you come from?” I asked, completely confused. He was his 2001 self, as was I. Hank didn’t speak but instead pointed toward the sky. I looked up, following his gesture just as a white aircraft passed above the Twin Towers and exploded, generating a blinding flash of heat and light. “There’s one more jet,” Hank said, as a rapidly expanding fireball enveloped the towers and raced toward us. “You have to stop it or everyone will die.” “What?” I asked, even more confused. “Flex, Jamal,” he said. “Flex everything! NOW!” * * * Several, perhaps dozens of tons of whatever material had been in the cargo containers, were exploding and in that instant, I realized that my sense of time had changed. Everything appeared to move in slow motion. As I drifted up and away from the rapidly evaporating jet, I could somehow see each container erupt and disintegrate, the individual blasts expand outward at enormous yet easily traceable speeds, even as I was enveloped in a maelstrom of flame and intersecting shockwaves. I was perhaps 100 yards away from where I had been standing on the plane. The fireball was probably 300 yards in diameter. Flex, Hank had said. So, I did. I flexed my arms and my traps and my pecs, my lats and my abs and my glutes, my quads and my hamstrings and my calves. I flexed everything, squeezing as hard as I could, for I knew why I was doing it. The only way to stop the explosion was to absorb it. * * * I felt a torrent of water gushing against my back and opened my eyes. I was on my back, looking at a partly-cloudy afternoon sky. Immediately to my right, a damaged fire hydrant lay on its side. I had landed on it and taken it out. There’s one more jet. Everyone will die, Hank said. I sprang to my feet and briefly surveyed my surroundings. I was again taller, which meant I was again bigger and stronger, but despite the resulting twitch of my cock I pushed that from my mind. I had something larger than my growing cock to deal with. I was near Gansevoort and Tenth Avenue. Across the street toward the river, nothing remained of the aircraft. The facades of the buildings facing the Hudson were scorched, but apart from that the damage seemed limited to shattered windows. People were likely killed or injured in the blast before I was able to absorb it, but I couldn’t help them. I had to figure out how to stop another aircraft without killing more people. Somehow, I needed to reach it. I could run to the West 30th Street heliport and hope that a helicopter and pilot were available, but that didn’t seem workable. At best, the jet pilot would only avoid the helicopter. If I can throw a tow truck a few thousand feet I can certainly jump high enough to reach a low-flying aircraft. That was the answer. I just needed a solid enough surface to leap from in a central location. Rat Rock. I had to return to Central Park. This time, I ran up Eighth Avenue, soaring between the US Post Office and Penn Station. What did Hank mean, everyone will die? Everyone on the aircraft? Everyone in the target building? Everyone in lower Manhattan? I felt ineffectual, lost. I had become so accustomed to having Hank and Matt around, so dependent on their insight and advice, that I felt incomplete without them. I tried not to imagine the scene at the Empire State Building. For now, I pushed my friends from my mind. It might be difficult for me to find them, but I knew how to make it easy for them to find me. At roughly one block per stride, it took only a few minutes for me to cover the distance to Columbus Circle. The streets of Manhattan, at least south of the park, seemed to be gridlocked. A logjam of buses, cars, and trucks surrounded the monument to Christopher Columbus, filling the roundabout. I leapt to avoid them… …and landed atop Rat Rock, a roughly circular outcropping of schist 50 or 60 feet in diameter and twice my height, shattering a thin layer of the gray stone around my feet. No one seemed to be around, and I began to scan the sky, relaxing my eyes so that I could see through the trees and surrounding buildings. The X-ray-like, false color view of the universe returned, revealing a storm of color and patterns that I had no idea how to interpret. I spent a few minutes changing the focus of my eyes, wondering if I could consciously determine which wavelengths I could detect, to see if I could filter out what I didn’t need at the moment. A few objects moved in slow, steady arcs around me. Satellites, I assumed. Most everything else seemed to be stationary until an object approaching from the west caught my attention. Something that was glowing with a harsh blue-white light like the reactors at the Indian Point power plant. Was this the plane that Hank had warned me of or a missile with a nuclear warhead? I couldn’t determine its speed or distance or angle of approach, but it seemed at least a few minutes away. I continued to focus on the approaching object. I tried to zoom in, Steve Austin-like, without luck. I tried examining the radiation source at varying frequencies mostly because it gave me something to do. Then something slammed into my back and exploded. The force of the impact and explosion thrust me forward into a group of trees and I landed on the ground face down. As I climbed to my feet again, a projectile from the opposite direction hit my chest and exploded. And another. And another. “GOD DAMMIT THIS ISN’T A GOOD TIME!” I roared. The grove of trees was in flames as I stood and began searching the sky again, trying to get my bearings. There were now multiple objects moving in the afternoon sky. Several small aircraft circled my location. I could see through the trees and flames and smoke that they were unmanned drones, which might have been helpful except that they were a bit late and targeting the wrong thing. I counted four, a few hundred feet overhead. Then I found the blue-white light of the radiation source. It was close enough for me to see that it was clearly a jet aircraft. I remained at the center of the fire, tracking my target as it approached. It seemed the drones couldn’t get a fix on me while I was engulfed in flames. I would wait as long as I could before I jumped back onto Rat Rock and launched myself at the air. Or would the presence of the drones cause the jet to change course? I hopped back onto the rock outcropping and snapped off a small boulder. The drones immediately changed their courses as I broke the boulder into smaller chunks and began hurling them at the unmanned aircraft. Four direct hits sent them falling to the ground. I felt oddly pleased with myself. At least there was no doubt about my aim. I could now clearly see and hear the approaching jet. It was higher than the others, maybe at 2000 feet, and though it had begun banking to the right, would still pass close enough that I was certain I could reach it. Nearby, the trees continued to burn. I wondered if I could blow them out and began to inhale. For around 30 seconds, I drew air into my lungs. When I felt like I had enough, I turned toward the trees and blew as hard as I could, as if they were candles on a birthday cake. Naturally, I flew backward off the rock and landed in the sand of the Hecksher Playground. I sighed and again climbed to my feet, but at least the fire was out. You’re clumsy, but not completely useless after all, I thought to myself. Nearly an hour must have passed since the Empire State Building had been hit, but other than the drone swarm, which was clearly targeting me, there had been no response from the military. What the hell is going on? Where are our fighter jets? Then I heard the sound of dozens of boots approaching from multiple directions. In seconds I was surrounded by what seemed to be military troops of some kind at a distance of perhaps 50 feet. They had already taken aim. “Jamal Al-Bakri,” an authoritative male voice called out. “You will surrender and come with us. Cooperate or we will fire.” “What?” I said, incredulous. “We don’t have time for this. There’s a third jet…” I looked into the early afternoon sun and pointed. “RIGHT THERE! I believe this one is carrying a nuclear weapon. Now stand aside so I can stop it.” I hopped back onto Rat Rack and was squatting down when I heard the man call “fire!” and I was showered with bullets. I rolled my eyes and stood. “YOU WILL CEASE FIRING.” I commanded. But incredibly, nothing changed. Scores of bullets bounced off of me but also continued to collect in the hair covering my immense pectorals. Some lodged in my beard. I pulled at one and noticed that it had actually wrapped itself around a single thick black hair. I pulled it off, popped it into my mouth, and swallowed. The hair remained attached to my skin. I hopped down and began to walk forward. Occasionally a few of the bullets would strike my penis. They felt good. They feel good, I could do this all day. My cock began to grow and harden. The magnificent beast was awake. I brought my hands up, my epic, bulging forearms, biceps, and pecs competing for space, and began to crush the thickening layer of ammunition against the impossibly massive, striated muscle of my chest, melting and spreading it across the expanse of my pecs, feeling how much broader and thicker they had become, then down my deeply separated eight-pack to my cock, which was now fully erect. It pounded, throbbing visibly as I covered it with molten steel and lead, squeezing it as hard as I could, the pleasure becoming so intense that for a moment I forgot where I was but not what – a being so powerful and masculine and glorious that all would beg to worship me. As my tremendous cock throbbed madly, thrusting nearly a yard before me, my loins burning for release, I brought my arms up, arms which could surely rend the planet in two, and flexed. I closed my eyes and reveled in the immeasurable power of my body, turning my face up to the sky, lost in bliss as my indestructible form was caressed by thousands of rounds of ammunition, which suddenly ceased. The echoes of dozens of automatic weapons faded, revealing only the whine of two jet engines. I opened my eyes to see every soldier silently weeping while either kneeling or bent forward, faces to the ground. Better. I looked up. The jet was about as close as it was going to get. It was also unmarked, at least as far as I could tell. Unlike the others, both of which were painted in the livery of American Airlines, this was simply a plain white twin engine passenger jet. I jumped back onto Rat Rock and quickly wiped most of the metal from my torso and cock. As I squatted down, I wondered how much force my enormous legs could generate. When I threw the wrecker, I simple hurled it as hard as I could. But I didn’t want to fly through the plane. I needed to reach it and stop. Grab hold and tear my way in perhaps. It was moving further away. I launched myself into the air. As I soared toward it, I did feel as if I were flying. The sensation of air rushing by at a few hundred miles per hour – against my skin, around my still-erect cock – was exhilarating. But I was a projectile, subject to the friction of air and the gravity of the Earth, unable to alter course. Still, I was rapidly approaching the aircraft and as I passed through the plume of smoke from the remains of the Empire State Building, I realized I had to somehow grasp the port wing as I passed it at roughly 50 mph. Time seemed to slow. I became aware of two things. One, I was going to miss by a few yards. I was going slightly too fast. Two, I could somehow see the turbulence of the air as the jet cut through it. I could also see the aircraft’s interior to some extent. The harsh blue-white glow of the uranium was near the center of aircraft, its radiation detectable through the casing. The jet was configured to carry cargo. Most of the interior was empty, while the cockpit appeared standard – at least to my layman’s eye – two seats, some equipment, and a door. But, it was empty. No one was flying the plane. I was closing in from below and of course from behind. I held out my arms to reduce my speed, alternately bringing them in and out a bit to fine tune my approach. The port engine was immediately to my right as I passed it – I could have reached out and touched it – but I waited until I could grab the wing’s leading edge. Although I could see the air being drawn into the engine, it was too late – I wasn’t able to adjust my speed to avoid being sucked in without missing the jet entirely. My legs were pulled into the engine fans, which shattered before the bulk of my upper legs and cock forced the engine shaft to stop spinning entirely. Jet fuel accumulated for a second or two – I recognized the smell – before exploding and then burning out. I climbed out of the damaged engine pod and clawed my way along the wing, digging my fingers into the aluminum to keep from being blown off. On reaching the fuselage, I simply tore my way into the cabin, which was dimly lit. The warhead was a cone well over a yard long, which was strapped vertically to a truss that ran from the floor of the cabin to the top. A cable ran from the cone up the truss to a box about a foot on each side with a keypad and a few controls. A digital LED displayed the number 10. As I looked around, I noticed several cameras. I was probably being watched, but of course, I had no idea how to disarm it or even if it were possible. I fantasized about flying it into space. Or maybe I can pilot the jet out over the ocean. I had turned and started toward the cockpit when I heard a quick, soft beep beep. I returned to the truss. The 10 on the control box was now 06 and continued to count down. Only seconds before I had been completely fearless. For all practical purposes I was infinitely strong and completely indestructible. But now I was terrified, and I pulled the cone free of its straps and wrapped myself around it, covering as much of its surface as I could. Hank was down there. Matt was down there. Terry. Carlos. Nearly everyone I cared about plus a million or so others were only a few thousand feet below me. 04 … 03 … maybe I could crush it? I leaned back so that the bulk of my body was between the ground and the warhead and began to squeeze, which collapsed the casing and… It began so small. A perfectly white sphere of plasma only a few yards in diameter replaced the warhead, which was instantaneously vaporized into ionized gas at 100 million degrees. A fraction of a second later, the entire aircraft had been vaporized. By the time I had begun flexing every muscle I could think of, a full second had passed and a fireball a few hundred yards wide had appeared over lower Manhattan with me suspended at its center. I flexed, reveling in the sensation of the enormous energy released by the weapon flowing into my titanic, growing muscles. I had noticed over the past few days that the hotter something was, the better it felt, the more pleasure I experienced. Having a nuclear weapon detonate immediately against my chest bathed me in ecstasy beyond comprehension and I could both see and feel my surging cock grow in both size and hardness, the pressure in my loins mounting to a degree greater even than that of the blast I was containing. I looked down at my unimaginably powerful pecs, watching as the thick black hair that covered them waved and floated in the inferno. One hundred million degrees and not even my hair was singed. I am truly indestructible. My huge cock and balls, stimulated beyond imagination by the extreme heat and pressure, growing and throbbing uncontrollably, unleashed my most powerful orgasm yet, and I aimed my cum cannon toward the sky as it spewed thousands of gallons through the raging inferno surrounding me, soaring up into the atmosphere for miles. I continued to flex as hard as I could, absorbing as much of the escaping heat and energy as possible, canceling out the pressure wave which would have destroyed much of Manhattan. I will become infinitely powerful. I knew this. Hank was right. The universe was creating its own god and the ecstasy this knowledge brought me was overwhelming. I was drunk with my own magnificence. I will have eternal and absolute dominance over all things. I will enslave this universe. A brief shudder of abject terror washed over me, penetrating my ecstasy. No. That is not what I want. But I could feel my consciousness shifting again. Jamal! It was Hank’s voice. “Hank?” Jamal, that’s not you. Hank’s voice was somehow clear through the thunderous roar of the firestorm. You’ve got to resist it. I could feel the pressure increase. Even as the feeling of dread swept through me, the desire to embrace a dark yet infinite pleasure mounted. “What do you mean?” I asked out loud. It wants you. DON’T LET IT IN. Hank said desperately. FIGHT IT! All I could sense was an intense need for conquest. A limitless hunger. Everything must be mastered and enslaved and drained. But that isn't who I am, I replied. * * * Earlier that day, in another place… There are things older than the universe. Ancient things from universes far older than our own or that no longer exist. It was one of those things. Its home universe collapsed a trillion years ago, but it had learned long before of methods to slip between the universes, to navigate from one universe to another. As long as a universe’s physical constants were compatible, it was able enter. For an eternity, it searched through a universe of universes, methodically, deliberately, conserving its energy, maintaining just enough awareness to test a target universe’s physics, just enough awareness to be. It had once enjoyed a seemingly endless torrent of energy drawn over tens of billions of years from all the stars, all the galaxies, all the life of its long-dead home, but its reserves dwindled as the eons passed, as it sought something that appeared increasingly unlikely. Millions of years would pass between finding compatible universes or universes with life, billions of years between finding universes that were compatible and held life, and thus far, a trillion years without finding a compatible universe with life that it could use. It was now barely a cloud of molecules, a fading wisp of organized information that knew little more than a tortured emptiness and an all-consuming hunger. A hunger that had been growing for countless billions of years. A hunger that finally, just as it had resigned itself to oblivion, detected a life form that it could use.
  16. 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.
  17. Disclaimers: It’s my first story so criticism is welcome While there is not much of it in this episode, there will be A LOT of violence in future installments. You have been warned. The Police Brute – Episode I Life is meant celebrated, to be enjoyed, to be lived. It is the constant pursuit of happiness, the search for a greater purpose, which keeps us going everyday. But what if you don’t believe there is any greater purpose for you, if you don’t think there is any happiness to be found in your life? Then you end up like me. A short, single and skinny gay police man with no friends, who spends his free time thinking about ways of killing himself. I wasn’t always like this. My life used be close to perfect, until I turned 14. That is when I realized I was gay. From there on it was all downhill. First my parents disowned me and kicked me out of the house, when I came out to them on my 17th birthday. After taking one glance at my parents, everyone could have guessed that this ultra-conservative couple would not tolerate a gay son, but I foolishly thought that they would change their views for me, their only son. Being young, dumb and broke I did what I could to survive, even if it meant doing the unspeakable. It started as a job on the side, once every two weeks, but it quickly turned into a daily affair and I have to tell you, being a young gay prostitute was not easy. I got mistreated, abused or just flat out robbed. When I turned 21, I decided it had been enough. The almost four years of hard, dirty work were finally over. I took all the money I had saved during that time and started college. College was another beast which I had to tame, but after what I had endured it seemed like a walk in park. Still I had problems connecting with people, especially men. Sadly college was over before I could learn how to get over my anxiety. Next up was the police academy. The experiences I had made on the street, had made me want to fight the grave injustices of this world. That was another foolish idea of mine. After 20 weeks I finally got my dream job and it was the shittiest thing in the world. I got overworked, underpaid and after some time I even forgot my original goal. That brings me to a day, that started like any other. I got to the station and waited for my partner, so we could start our patrol. He was late so I slowly got bored and started thinking of ways to end my miserable life. In the end I came to the conclusion that I would chicken out of it like usual. After what felt like an eternity, my boss, Alex came over to me and I thought he was going to tell me my partner called in sick or something, but he just stood there for a few moments until he finally muttered:” Pete...he-he got into a car accident last night. He didn’t make it.” I knew I was supposed feel sad or something, but truth is I didn’t really care for him that much. Alex let me go home to mourn for the weekend. Instead of mourning I watched old comedies on Netflix. When I walked into the station on Monday, I unknowingly began a new life. The first sign came when Lenny, our secretary handed me an XXXL uniform. “Um, I didn’t ask for a new uniform. Besides this one is kind of oversized,” I told him, as I tried to hand back the uniform. “The uniform isn’t for you. It’s for your new partner,” he replied. “Not to fat shame, but don’t people need to meet certain health standards to work here?” I asked. “You’re gonna be surprised,” he smirked. “Your new partner is waiting for you in your office, but first Alex wants to see you. In his office” That was the second odd thing that happened, because Alex barley ever let people into his office. A working theory was that he was secretly a cam-guy, but I believed he was just hiding the fact that he doesn’t do any actual work around here. Turns out I was right. But after arriving in his office I was too preoccupied by other things to realize that. Alex was sitting at his desk, his face plain as if he’d just seen a ghost. Or to be more precise, he was sitting in front of what used to be his desk. Now it was split in half, with dents all over it, looking like someone had broken it in half using their bare hands. I took a seat and instantly felt that something heavy had sat in the chair before me. “John I know these past few days have been hard for you with the passing of Pete, but we have already found a replacement,” he whispered, visibly shaken. “Good,” I replied. “Is there anything wrong?” “Your new partner is...intimidating,” Alex muttered. “He insisted on getting you as a partner, because of a...em...special quality of yours.” With those words he escorted me out of the room without saying anything more. Now I was confused. I approached my office with caution, breathing heavily, scared of what awaited me. Once I arrived at the door, I pulled down the handle and slowly started to push it open. Suddenly a deep, masculine and sensual voice came from inside the office. “You don’t have to be scared. I don’t bite,” he shouted. I stepped inside, only to witness a behemoth of a man who was stripped down to his underwear sitting on my chair. He stood up, so that I could see him in his full glory. The 260lbs man had a face that would give most models a run for their money. Lush black hair, sparkling blue eyes, beautiful lips, a sexy five o’clock and the most gorgeous jaw in the history of man kind. It only got better from there. His neck was as thick as some peoples thighs, with veins snaking over his boulder like shoulders, to his biceps. But calling them biceps was gravely downplaying their monstrosity. They were at least 23 inches with peaks worthy of the Mr. Olympia Stage. I was already drooling before I had even seen the best part. His chest was made of two globes, throbbing at every breath, threatening to explode out of their own skin. Hiding underneath the two balloons were eight stone hard bricks. You would think a man this big would have a huge gut, but no. He was ripped to the shreds with veins protruding out of his abs. Then I looked below his waist, a waist that was no wider than my own, and dropped the oversized uniform I was holding in my hands. Between his two mighty legs, which were almost as thick as my body, was an unbelievably huge bulge, almost visible through the giants thinly stretched underwear. He walked up to me, until I was in arms reach of his body. He lifted his left bicep and flexed it, at which point I let out a slight scream. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a faggot,” he said, as a devilish smile crept over his face.
  18. Here is the fourth chapter of The Test. This took me a while to write as life kept getting in the way along with some serious workouts!!! This muscle growth/transformation scene would probably be me if i was confronted by the power of the gem. Sure, I would want to be cool like Chaos, but I'm just a big brute... so I know what I would become!!! Enjoy, and if you have any ideas for further mythical transformations/muscle growth... let me know!! The Test Chapter Four Vengeance Elliott Wade got out of the taxi in front of UEL research building. His flight had landed two hours ago, and once he had gotten through customs, he ran to catch a taxi. Thankfully, the skinny, bearded man only had a backpack and didn’t need to wait for any luggage and therefore beat the crowd to the taxi stand. He would have gotten an Uber but didn’t want to risk the waiting time it might take just for a cheaper fare. He needed to get to Jacob and he needed to get to him now. Ever since he had found that gem, there had been trouble. Putting the pieces together may have taken a little while, but now that he thought he might know what was going on, he was in a race against time. First, there was the day he found the stone. It hadn’t seemed odd at first, but why had the other guys who were excavating in his section both come down with a stomach flu on the same day? They all ate in the same canteen, but only Elliot hadn’t gotten sick. Then there was the strange obsession that had flooded over him when he unearthed the gem. He never would have kept such a significant find to himself, yet something told him to hide it and keep it a secret. Then there was the night of the thunderstorm when the gem had disappeared completely. He hadn’t realized it was gone until the next day. Elliott had seen it the night before when he hid it away in the coffee can, so that’s exactly where it should have been the next day; yet it wasn’t He couldn’t have the other men search for it since no one knew he had it. Finally, there was the blank email to Jacob with the attachment he couldn’t open. It all would have remained a mystery if it had not been for the scroll found in the earthen pot. Inside was a crude drawing of some sort of creature pulling itself out of the earth. Human men and creatures of a variety of assortment surrounded the hole it was crawling out of. A gem emitting a ray of light was hanging over he creature, lighting it’s path as it burst from the ground. When he had shown it to the other men, they had all agreed with each other that it was a fable of some kind that obviously translated into destruction brought about by greed. Elliott knew it had to mean more since he had seen the very gem from the drawing with his own eyes, but once again how could he talk about the gem without telling about his part. Not knowing who to turn to for confession, Elliot decided to call his ex; Jacob, but his phone was out of service. His phone at the University continually went to voicemail, and every email Elliot sent to him bounced back. It was as if Jacob has single handedly been removed from this earth... at least for when it meant Elliot getting in contact with him. Concerned what was going on with Jacob as well as remembering the strange email sent to him from Elliot’s own account with the attachment he couldn’t open, Jacob decided to get the next flight to London and see if everything was alright. Heavy winds, severe rain and lightning threw the plane around the sky like a child’s toy. A couple of times Elliot swore they were going down, but the skill of the pilot get them safely to Stanstead Airport. He caught a taxi quickly and gave the driver Jacob’s address. The taxi had barely traveled for three minutes when a text appeared on his phone. Elliot took a quick look at it thinking it would only be from his excavation partner, but noticed that it was from Jacob. It was a picture of the gem, glowing a deep amber colour. The text: ‘I think I know what it is,’ fell right underneath it. Realizing that Jacob was at the universities research building and obviously in more danger then he originally thought, Elliott gave the driver the address of his new destination. How did Jacob have the gem? What did he mean he now knew what it was? Why was it now glowing amber when it had been emerald when he found it? Eliot felt sick. Something was very wrong. Now as he stood before the large stone building, Eliot realized the storm he thought he had left behind had followed him as the wind began to pick up and lightening illuminated the dark sky. It was 3 am, so he didn’t expect to find any professors or students swarming around the building, but as he unlocked the door and stepped into the foyer, the building felt deathly quiet. All of power was off in the building so he had to cling the stairs up to fourth floor only by the light of his cell phone. Slowly he entered Jacobs research lab. He called out Jacob’s name, but the silence at his words up. It was dark, so he could only make out a shadowy apparatus taking up most of the centre of the room. On a pedestal stood the gem glowing a deep amber. Elliott races over to it, but just as he got close, the gem disappeared . ⁃ Looking for something? Elliott turned quickly around and found himself standing across the room from an incredibly handsome blonde man. It was dark in the room, but Elliot was able to see the man perfectly as if he were glowing from within. dressed in khaki pants and a tight vest that showed off each of the taut firm muscles that made up his body. The man looked perhaps 20 or 25, no more, but Eliot sensed he was older then that... much older. Elliott opened his mouth to speak, to question the man why he was in Jacobs room, when a bolt of lightning kept from his fingers and into Elliott’s chest. ⁃ Quiet!! The bolt threw him backward, but Elliott never hit the ground. Instead, he floated in midair, immobile, and unable to speak. Although he knew he should be afraid of the man, he suddenly realized that he wasn’t. Something was drawing Elliott to him... seducing him as he walked gracefully toward him. ⁃ Your mortal world has only three more days before I am released. Three days before I feed. Many worlds have I come to, and many worlds have I stripped barren. I know what you are, Elliot. That is why I called you. Everyone believes Elliot to be so kind, so helpful, such a great guy... but I know better. Oh, Elliott. We are going to do wonderful things together. Trust me. You’ll never be the same again. ************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************** Two men stood before the semi-detached house on Queensbridge Drive. Both were tall and muscular, one all in black, the other bearded, and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a long brown coat that fell nearly to his thick calves. They would never have seemed out of place in the hipster community if it weren’t for the fact that the one in brown was barefoot and wearing sunglasses at three in the morning. They quietly spoke to each other for a moment, and then the one in brown walked away from the house, positioning himself about 50 feet away. The man in Black walked toward the door, and as he did, he began to change. His whole body got shorter and lost most of its muscle tone, surrendering itself to age and fat. His long hair appeared to retract into his head, and turned grey and thin in some areas. An energy of power still revolves around him, but it was partially hidden by a skin he despised... a skin of mediocrity, Placing his hand in his right outer coat pocket, he discovered his keys, just where he had left them last night. He also found an object that had been given to him for safe keeping, told he would know what to do with it when the time came. Chaos... or rather... Declan fingered the gem which caused his penis to plump up a little. Soon... he thought. Soon. Declan opened the door and stepped into his sons flat. Shoes lay in the foyer, and coats were flung haphazardly on the coatrack. Never one for housekeeping, it was actually neater then his son usually kept it. Declan considered his 34 year old son Brendan a complete failure. Given every opportunity, he still succeed in doing nothing with his life. He floated from job to job, never lasting with one career for very long, and never having much direction in life. If it wasn’t for his ex-wives money, he didn’t know how Brendan would have survived. She paid the rent in this flat and transferred thousands of pounds a month into his Lloyd’s again. To Declan, Brendan had only one thing... anger... and that anger was definitely going to help his father out now. From the foyer, Declan could here the TV on in the sitting room. It was no surprise that he found his son asleep, surrounded by some empty bottles of Guinness, and a lone wine bottle. Looking down at his sleeping son, he felt disgust mixed with a surge of adrenaline. Finally, he was going to be of use for something. Over and over again Declan kicked the couch Brendan was asleep on. ⁃ Brendan!! Wake Up!! Get your ass up, Brendan!! I need to talk with you. Awaking from what he thought could only be a nightmare, he realized was only his reality as he came face to face with his father. ⁃ What are you doing here? ⁃ We need to talk. ⁃ We have nothing to talk about, this is my flat. Get the fuck out! Brendan stood up to confront his father. Even though he was a good head higher then his dad, it never seemed to help since he always made him feel so small. Now with the power of liquor still in his system, he was going to throw the man he despised out. ⁃ You’ll listen to me, Brendan or I’ll make you listen to me, and you won’t like that. ⁃ Please just get the fuck out, Dad. We have nothing more to talk about. Yes, I was fired... yes I asked Mum for more money. It has nothing to do with you. I thought you were going away, anyway. ⁃ Something happened to me today, Brendan. Something that has changed everything, and even though I hate to admit it, you have a part to play. ⁃ I think you’re drunker then I am. Just get the fuck out. Brendan walked through the dim room, and ran smack into a walk... or at least he thought it was a wall. Destruction, still uncomfortably disguised in the skin of a hipster, grabbed Brendan by the arm and shirtfront and lifted him into the air. Brendan struggled against the attack. He swung his arms and legs trying to somehow unbalance the hipster so he could run away, but he only succeeded in knocking off his sunglasses. In shock, Brendan stopped moving when he noticed the brute only had flesh where his eyes should have been.... nothing else. ⁃ Shit move, mate. The flesh on the brutes forehead began to pulse and flow with life. Within moments, the flesh parted and a giant red eye appeared in the centre of his forehead. Brendan screamed. What evil had his father gotten himself involved in? Angrily, Destruction lifted Brendon higher and with one quick move he threw him down into a pile on the floor. ⁃ I think our father was talking. With the wind still knocked out of Brendan, Destruction lifted him up by the neck and held him four feet in the air. ⁃ Don’t kill him just yet, Destruction. No matter how much I hate to say it, we need him. Moments away from blacking out, Brendan was lowered to the floor, but still remained held in the large mans grip. His father approached him smiling. With a swift movement, Declan punched Brendan in the stomach. As he continued to speak, he repeated this action over and over again. ⁃ When I say I need to speak with you, I need to speak with you. I didn’t want it to come to this, but you forced my hand, Brendan. Why does everyone force my hand!! Declan kneed Brendan in the balls, causing him to fall to his knees. The brute standing behind him picked him up again, prepping him for more blows from his father. ⁃ I was given a gift today, Brendan, a gift I shared with your new brother behind you, and a gift I wanted to share with you, but you always make it so difficult. Punch! Punch!! ⁃ I wanted your anger to fuel you into what I knew you would become, finally being of some use to me, but now you are to be prepared for something more. Punch!! ⁃ My creator needs a place to hide something precious to him, and although I wish it could be me, I can’t do everything!! As he spoke, the figure before Brendan began to change till his father stood before him, but looking a thousand times crueler, and a thousand times more powerful. Age had been stripped away from him, and in his place stood the man Brendan knew his father always wanted to be. Brendan pissed himself as massive wings burst from his back, and an enormous scorpion tail erupted from the place above his ass. ⁃ A taste, Brendan, of the power I now possess. I can tell from your reaction you find me as remarkable as I feel. I would show you my true form, but I don’t think you could handle it at the moment. ⁃ Enough time has been wasted, Chaos. Give the boy to me. Another man appeared from the shadows. This one was blonde and muscular, and looked even younger then Brendan. With his right hand, Chaos removed the gem from his coat pocket and held up the glowing amber item. Gently the blonde man took the gem from his father and held it for Brendan to see. ⁃ Look at it, Brendan. Look at the power it holds. The anger you embrace inside of you is going to evolve you into something beautiful. Never should one like you get near something like this that holds such power, that magnified such inner desires. Your father, a psychopath, got a hold of it, and look at him. You will make the perfect soldier, but I need something more for you. My enemies have come for this, and I need to hide it someplace where they’ll never look. That’s where you come in. As the man held the gem closer to Brendan, it began to glow even brighter. ⁃ Delicious all consuming vengeance fuels your soul, Brendan. You hide it deep down in your soul. Let’s show the world, shall we? With his right hand, the man reached forward and pressed against Brendan’s chest. If he had been able to scream out, he would have screamed bloody murder as he felt the powerful hands tip through his clothing and enter his skin. Further the man’s hand went until he was buried up to his wrist in Brendan’s chest. It was inconceivable that Brendan wasn’t bleeding out onto the floor, but not one drop fell. A coldness entered Brendan’s soul as the man found what he desired, and with a quick tug, ripped out Brendan’s heart. The organ was still beating as it rest in his hand. With hunger in his eyes, the man’s mouth opened to reveal razor sharp teeth. His mouth opened wider and wider till it was an all consuming hole. With one quick movement, the man dropped the heart in its mouth and began to chew. When his meal was complete, he licked his lips and smiled. A spasm went through the man and every muscle in his body began to swell and grow. Pound upon pound was added to his frame until he must have gained at least 20 lbs. Just as quickly as the growth started, it ended. ⁃ Delicious, but sadly not enough for my liking. I’ll have plenty more to feed on, won’t I , Brendan? You’ll bring them to me, won’t you? Brendan tried to speak, but he found an all consuming cold had overtaken his body as if the frozen North had taken root ⁃ Awww... feeling empty are we? You’ll bring them to me when the time comes, won’t you, Brendan? When the time comes you will betray your kind and let me feed on them... won’t you? If you say yes, I’ll make all the emptiness go away. ⁃ Yes.... yes. Anything. Tears began to fall from Brendan’s eyes. As he looked down, he could see the massive hole the man had made. He was truly empty. The man, who was now nearly bursting out of his white shirt, raised the amber gem up to Brendan again. ⁃ Let’s fill you up, shall we? The man took the gem and brought it closer to Brendan’s chest. Suddenly, it started beating of its own accord. Slowly, the man began to bury it deep in his chest. ⁃ Think of all the world owes you, Brendan. Think of every wrong ever caused to you by everyone you know. Think of the vengeance you will herald. Brendan could hear the beating of the gem deep within his chest. Soon the cold and emptiness was disappearing and was being replaced by warmth. The warmth felt good, the warmth felt so welcoming.... the warmth was all consuming. From a spark, an ember was formed in his chest, then a flame, then a roaring fire. Brendan could feel it completely engulfing him. He was now filled with the fire of ten thousands suns. ⁃ Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord!!! Suddenly the man turned to vapor and disappeared. The power Eros, Chaos, and Destruction had felt was only a mere whisper to what was passing through Brendan. Every molecule of his being was on fire, fuelling itself for the transformation that was set to occur. The gem, finally having found the perfect host cracked open. Tentacles emerged from the center, and slithered their way around his core until they latched onto his brain and reproductive organs. The gem, used to granting and magnifying deep desires, quickly extracted Brandan’s desire for vengeance. The picture it created of what Brendan wished to become terrified him. ⁃ No!! That isn’t me!! Brendan screamed... but the gem knew he was lying. Why had Chaos and Eros been the only truthful ones, the sentiment gem wondered. That was why they were polar opposites, always destined to be at war; foundation and annihilation. As Brendan tried to fight the changes that were about to occur, the gem pulsed, forcing his lats and pecs to erupt in size, and tearing to pieces the button-up shirt he was wearing. As Brendan’s chest and wing-span continued to grow out of control, his small puny arms were being held away from his sides. As his wing span grew even wider, his shoulder muscles and traps began growing larger and higher, preventing him from turning his head at all. Soon they had completely engulfed the sides of it, nearly swallowing his head completely. His pecs persisted to swell, becoming plumper and broader. In seconds Brendan’s chest had been enhanced by hundreds of pounds, and didn’t look as if it intended on stopping soon. Just as his traps struggled to engulf the side of his head, his ever enlarging pecs tried to smother him from below. Higher and higher, he raised his head until he was nearly looking completely up, and his pecs lay just below his chin. I’m going to be smothered by my own body, he began to panic. I need to get out of here, he thought and began to try and move toward the door, but his own body fought him. As he moved forward, his father grabbed him and held him in place. ⁃ Just let go, Brendan. Be the man you always should have been. Don’t disappoint me again. ⁃ Yes Brendan... listen to your father. The gem spoke quietly to Brendon in a voice that was close to singing. ⁃ Listen to his voice and let it enrage you. Let me take that rage and let me magnify it ten- fold. Let me keep magnifying it till you become your father’s worst nightmare. Let me enable you to have the power to one day destroy him... when the time is right... The gem could feel the resentment beginning to simmer inside of Brendan, breaching the wall. To sway him further, the gem reached down and started magnifying the amount of testosterone produced in his body. Each testicle began to inflate like a balloon being crammed with water. As his testicles started to grow, the gem flashed images of every injustice his father had ever inflicted on his family. Running like a film in his mind, Brendan could see the belittling, the snubbing, the smacks, and the punches. Played repeatedly were the times that Bendan witnessed Declan hitting his mother. Each memory got increasingly graphic and violent as Brendan attempted to fight it. Larger and larger, the gem continued growing his testicles... more and more testosterone flooded his system. They amplified until there was no room in his trousers to grow in comfort. That didn’t stop the gem as it willed them to keep developing, keep magnifying their power. Brendan’s zipper started to bend and warp as his immense balls continued to grow. As his balls gushed with testosterone and his brain crammed with the images of everything he despised, Brendan looked up into his father’s eyes. Suddenly Brendan felt angry. No... Brendan wasn’t angry. Brendan was furious... The gem flashed more and more images as it raised his testosterone level to near astronomical levels. This was happening because of his father. Everything happened because of his father! The world wasn’t safe with someone like his father in the world!! The weed needed to be destroyed!!! The gem whispered so only he could hear: ⁃ Soon. Soon we will take vengeance on your father and all on this globe like him. When the time is right, I promise. Let me set you free, and together we wash this world clean. Brendan stared one last time at his father and Chaos made his first mistake: Chaos smiled. ⁃ I’m going to make you proud, Dad. Watch me grow!! Brendan released himself... emancipated the gem to wreck havoc on his body. Brendan’s pants finally ripped, releasing his mammoth testicles. Still bound in his boxer briefs, it wasn’t long before the compression became insurmountable and his testicles won the battle, releasing themselves from the binding fabric. As the power courses through him, his whole body began to quake violently. Chaos expected to see agony flash over his face, but instead he saw pleasure... he saw ecstasy… he saw desire. Perhaps Brendan really was his son! As Brendan cried out, his voice dropped five octaves, and his legs commenced growing. ⁃ The power!! The fucking power flooding through me, altering every cell in my body! It’s Changing me completely. Do it! I grant you free reign!! Change me!! Make me mighty! Make me powerful!! Make me completely unrecognizable. Make me monstrous!!! Brendan started to stand as his quads and calves blew up, getting grander and more superior. The trousers legs that he was still wearing entirely disintegrated with the rapid influx of growth. His pelvis snapped to permit his legs to stand further and further apart. ⁃ More!! His quads detonated with size again becoming broader, becoming thicker, filling more and more with impossible muscle. Just when it was virtually impossible for his quads to develop any more, his pelvis snapped and extended again giving him more room for further inches to pack on. His waist was incredibly wide now, around 40” in diameter and still growing, even though there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Brendan was becoming a human completely made of muscle. Even his abdominal muscles defied description. They were practically as thick as bricks, and had at least five inches of depth between every one. His belly button was entirely buried among the masses of muscles, and would never be seen again. Chaos watched as his son tried to stand on the legs that were being formed for him. The muscles that now enveloped his legs were practically unimaginable by human understand. One would say they were larger then redwood trees… but that would even be underestimating their size. Each leg had to weigh nearly 400 lbs. alone, and still they grew. ⁃ Bigger!! Make me mightier!!!! Let me finally make my father proud!! As his quads and calves overflowed further with muscle… Brendan started getting taller. It was just in time, thought Chaos, or he had run the serious risk of becoming immobile. His feet burst out of his trainers with an explosion that sent the leather flying to several parts of the room. All Brendan could do was laugh as more and more of his desires came true. ⁃ Look at me, Dad!! Going up!!! Along with his feet, Brendan’s hands began getting lengthier, and each finger getting thicker with muscle. Brendan curled his hand into a fist as he admired the massive hands he now had. From his hands, the muscle began moving up his forearms, amplifying them to tree trunk proportions in order to be able to hold the dinner plate sized hands he now possessed. As his lower arm augmented beyond even the dream of any body builder, his bicep and triceps began swelling so large that Brendan had some trouble bending them. The chest that connected these two buttresses of power had never stopped expanding and enlarging and now had to be wider then Brendan was tall, and still he continued to grow up and out. ⁃ Why did I ever deny myself this??!! What was I ever afraid of?? It is the world that should be afraid of me! To Destruction, Brendan he was becoming a monstrous spectacle of pure muscle. He was swelling so large, packing on so much muscle that it was becoming beyond any rational thought of what a man should be. His back was so wide, his arms so immense, his legs so colossal. Where would it all end? Brendan’s neck, having fallen behind the surge of growth quickly made up for it as it thickened and extended. No longer lodged between his immense traps, his neck surged with power, looking as mighty as his arms or his legs. The elongated muscles of his neck expanding and pulsing every single time he moved his head. Brendan laughed again loudly as he saw his father’s staring at him. ⁃ Look at you, Dad!! I know exactly what you’re think! What is he becoming?? What does he need all of this muscle for? Just you wait, Dad! It’s going to be a beauty. Brendan’s last words were caught in a grimace of pain. ⁃ My feet! Look at my feet! The flesh on Brendan’s massive feet began to move around of it’s own accord. Soon flesh began to cover the spaces in-between his toes until they no longer resembled human feet. Brendan screamed out as both of his broke in half shattered at the same time, forcing him to stand on what looked like tip-toe. The lower half of his foot began to harden into what could only be described as two immense hooves. Stomping around the room on hooves that continued to enlarge, Brendan had never felt more alive. Pound upon pound of muscle filled his body unrelentingly as he continued getting taller, bigger and more immense. He was nearing the ceiling of his home now, and deep down he knew he had only started his transformation. Thick brown hair began to sprout over his pecs, and traveled down to his abs. His arms also began to be covered with hair, but it was his crotch and legs where the hair changed texture and consistency. Unlike his chest hair, the hair on his legs was longer, straight, dense, and quickly filling every available space of flesh. Soon his entire bottom half was concealed by brown hair, and not an inch of skin could be seen. The loudest cracking of bones was heard by Chaos, and he looked up from his son’s monstrously hairy legs to his face. The entire skeletal structure of his face was being altered. First his nose became flatter and more prominent, filling up the whole center of his face. Then his cranial area became wider and his mandibular region began to get thinner. Through it all, Brendan cried out in both pain and ecstasy. He was finally becoming the creature he was always born to be. On either side of his head, two mounds began to develop. Pulsating on their own, they finally erupted, and the thickest bullhorns imaginable emerged. Long and impressive, the horns grew and then twisted and grew longer again. Lifting his head, Brendan slammed his horns against the ceiling and a large portion of it caved in. The power coursing through his body was so addictive that he wanted more and more… never wanting it to end. The mighty Minotaur stood before Chaos in all of its glory. Brendan roared, and the sound filled the entire house. His stomping destroyed the flooring, and his immeasurable muscle mass threatened to take down the walls as he moved. ⁃ Feel the house quake with my power, Dad!!! The voice coming from the Minotaur no longer even closely resembled Brendan’s voice. The dominance and supremacy that he now commanded with his simple words made everyone take heed. Brendan’s bull cock began to grow to match his body. When unsheathed, it had to be nearly twenty-five inches in length and ten inches around. Veins crisscrossed the entire circumference feeding each inch with more blood so that it could pump even larger and more superior. Instead of pointing straight out, Brendan’s cock curved up, and he could finally see it passed his pecs when it grew far enough out and up. Pre-cum was continually flowing from his cock, powered by the immense objects that could only be called testicles, although they were so much more. Brendan stroked himself, and his whole body prickled with a mix of power and sexual excitement. Sudden movement to his right made him look over, and there was the one eyed freak with his own double cocks out, masturbating and drooling at the sight of him. Worship me, he thought. You are nothing compared to me. ⁃ More!!! I need more!!! The Minotaur once known as Brendan snarled and scraped around the room, the gem imbedded in his chest continuing to fill him with its might. As he moved around, the Minotaur was forced to walk with his limbs further apart as his leg muscles grew even mightier. Soon forced into a partial squat his quads grew even more monstrous. As his back erupted further with muscle, the Minotaur roared in ecstasy. At the same time the vertebrae of his backbone burst through the skin of his upper back until he had seven foot-long bony yet razor sharp protrusions traveling up to his neck. The beast lifted its hands up as best as it could and watched as his fingernails grew lengthier and sharper, transforming into black claws. The black flowed quickly from his nails like ink onto his hands and up his arms creating two sleeves of tribal tattoos. The cartilage of his nose sprouted like a thick tentacle out his right nostril, and rounded upward until it impaled itself in his left nostril. The bone quickly turned a gold colour until it resembled a large nose ring. The skin from both of his nipples proceeded to do the same until he had two substantial nipple rings. The beast’s cock head had continue to swell and grow, dripping continually with pre until the whole room smelled of sex. Its hand went down and began slowly stoning his magnificent shaft. As he did, a thick tentacle of skin shot out of his cock head and curved under until it pierced itself into the space where his shaft ended and his head began. The flesh thickened and hardened becoming another piercing to adorn his body. As the transformation continued out of control, Destruction found himself more and more turned on by the beast’s muscle. Shedding his human guise, he transformed himself back into his true form till he stood before the Minotaur completely naked, and stroking his two immense penises, longing to worship the new born god. Sensing the desire emanating off of Destruction, the beast turned and walked up to him. With one quick movement, it was behind Destruction holding him in a headlock. Destruction made no indication to fight, in fact he welcomed the attack. Licking Destructions neck with his long fat bull tongue, it slathered the dripping pre onto its mammoth cock and Destructions quivering hole. Lining the humongous head up with its entry point, and with a roar, Vengeance impaled Destruction onto its cock, balls deep. As Vengeance animalistically fucked Destruction, he lifted both of his sharp claws and savagely impaired them in Destructions back, drawing them down. Instead of the blood that Chaos expected to pour out of Destruction, a metal flesh-like material began to ooze out of the incisions. The silver flesh slowly crept up onto Vengeance, completely coating his fingers and hands, and then began twisting corkscrew-like up his fore arms and then upper arms creating silver bands. At first Chaos believed that the supernatural flesh was making some sort of a bizarre shell on the beast that was once his son, but he was only partially true. As Chaos watched further, he saw that where the silver ran up Vengeance’s arms, his flesh became pure metal, tattoos and all. This was no armour. The silver liquid was completely merging with Vengeances’s own flesh and turning areas of the beasts body into pure living metal. The metal quickly continued it’s journey around Vengeance’s body. The backbone protrusions were soon completely covered, and the thick pointy boney masses began to thicken further and glow. They soon began to take on a silver sheen as the living armour began to cover them. The metal continued to drip down Vengeance’s back and wrap around his immense chest creating a breastplate of impenetrable armour. Even Vengeance’s chest hair turned to metal as it continued traveling over his body Soon the metal forged its way down Vengeance’s mammoth arms until they too were covered with metal weaving. He’s becoming part animal, part machine Chaos thought. He’s covering his body with metal creating a tank like covering. The liquid metal traveled up from his back and covered most of the column like neck. It moved up the Minotaur’s face till it was covering Its eminence horns, and they were both completely made of metal and sharp as blades. Vengeance continued riding Destruction harder and harder, pulling further and further out, and slamming his cock all the way back in. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the breaking point. Once he saw Destruction shooting his load all over the ceiling, wall, and floor, he pulled out and continued roughly pumping his enormous cock. The metal continued down to flow. Each ab muscle became thick metallic blocks of steel, warm to the touch, but harder then any metal known to ma. Soon the silver flowed down and coated his mammoth prick creating a phallus of pure metal skin. Revealing in the monster he had become, Vengeance began to shoot his load. As his seed hit the walls and floor, the acidic nature of its liquid began eating through the material. As he continued to revel in his orgasm, a thick black tail began to form on his ass. Larger and fatter it grew, rising off of the floor, swaying and pulsating with a rhythm all its own. Unlike the body it had sprung from, the tail was black hairless. In fact, it looked more like scales then skin. Higher and faster it grew till it finally cracked and split into three separate branches all attached to one thick root. These branches swiftly pealed opened, and to both Destruction and Chaos’ awe saw that the tail was composed of three cobras. Still he continued to cum more and more feeling one last change overcome him. With a mighty roar, Vengeance shot flames from his mouth and snout, and lightning shot from his eyes. The gem had given him pure power to control. Lifting his hand, he willed the air to become a massive fireball. Taking a quick glance at his father, he threw it, nearly missing his head... a deliberate error. Vengeance bellowed in his deep gruff voice, words becoming difficult for him to speak with his bull mouth filled with its thick tongue and sharp teeth. ⁃ I am pure power!!! I am a creature birthed from the fire and the will of the heart that now lays within me. I have supreme power!! From the shadows, the blonde Asarualimnunna chuckled, his form taking on more substance as he slipped onto the fourth realm. Soon his growing armies would fetch the worshipers to him, and he could feed. As Vengeance continued to bask in his own unlimited power, his eyes turned bright red, and as he willed hit himself, lightning shot unceasingly through the roof of the building and continuously into Vengeance's body. The electrical power seemed to add hundreds of pounds more of muscle mass to his already bloated frame. Once again, his massive silver cock began shooting load after load of its acidic seed. Vengeance roared with laughter, reveling in the mighty creature he had become. For the first time, Chaos was afraid... and it was of his own son.
  19. 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.
  20. Please give me feedback! It will mean a lot! This growing superbeing thing is really different from my usual type of story (I still found this kind of hot when writing it) Part 1: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1556-my-dad-is-a-big-boy-re-post/ Part 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1560-my-dads-boy-is-a-big-boy/ Part 3: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1569-my-dads-boy-is-a-man/ Part 4: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1595-my-dad-is-a-secret-holder/ Part 5: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1596-my-dad-is-a-cum-fountain/ Part 6: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/1606-my-dad-is-a-room-wrecker/ Part 7: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/5895-my-dad-is-a-psychic/ My Dad is a Genius I scratched my brain as I tried to collect the proper formula on the Chemistry homework he’d been given as work over spring break. I couldn’t decide which was the more confusing equation. The ones I’d been asked to form and solve both on paper and in a physical model or the fact that I’d been given homework on Spring Break in the first place. Of course, it was a pretty simple calculation when the homework was coming from Professor Halt. He’d been a hard ass all semester, giving a barrage of tests and project assessments as if he was never really sure how many knew the material. I was typically on the upper side of the class but not because I was really a brilliant mind or anything. Years of having to studying without help from my parent got me god studying skills to pass tests even when I didn’t understand something. Most people would call it abusing the American educational system but I called it survival. That rang just as true when against Professor Halt. Still, it was a | | night with me on the massive couch in the large mansion, my ears stuffed with loud music that was making it tough to really make many coherent thoughts. I was the kind who needed peace and quiet to really collect my thoughts. Some asshole on the internet had convinced me Mozart was good for stimulating the brain but what I was beginning to realize was the article didn’t indicate what volume you were supposed to listen at. My ears were blaring with violins and brass that blurred my numbers together like a Sudoku puzzle. No one would put themselves through torture like that unless it was to block out something. For some, its loud family members. For others, loud neighbors or sex noises. For me, it was all of the above tenfold. What does “tenfold” mean? Well, after dad discovered he was gaining powers, he and Jeff began playing around and trying to figure out what dad was able to do. His growing pains persisted but they began to show new things in exchange for size. When it began, Dad was able to hold almost as much weight as he could with his own hands and hover over the ground for a rough 3-5 minutes before he had a head ache each. But after only three days, he’d gained the power to lift tons of weight for more than 2 hours and fly several feet without using his telekinesis for another 4 hours! Thing is, after gaining powers like that, dad started getting inventive with his….. sexual desires. I’d generally come to accept that he and Jeff were growing men with desires I couldn’t fathom being bu a fraction of either of their sizes. But in exchange for that understanding, they took it as a sign that I’d be ok with whatever they did. At first, when dad was starting to get hungry for sex, he’d give Jeff a subtle look warning him and then they’d try to play it off. After dad’s powers grew, though, they started to get more feral and beastial with their mind blowing sex. Dad would do things at the dinner table like stuff one of his massive turkey legs into his mouth and tear at it like a beast while eyeing Jeff, who was receiving it approvingly. Since I was the shortest now among the three of us, it was very impossible for them to hide their horniness since I could see that, though they were across from each other on the far ends of the dinner table, they were rubbing at enormous crotch balloons that only pumped bigger as the dinner went on before they finally excused themselves. Their kind gestures began to loosen and leak out their true intentions as time went on as Dad grew. Jeff, having not purchased new clothes in a while, had begin to really strain the fabric and was bulging every which way. Just last night, we were eating dinner and Dad was carving into more food like the bottomless pit he was becoming when a loud RIP reached over the table and grabbed his attention. Jeff grinned as dad would pay attention and notice his pectoral had finally burst from the polo he’d worn to the dinner table. His beefy chest muscle filled the gap and more as it continued to tear when he grinned and flexed it. “Guess I’m going to have to order some clothes again” he said as he flexed a bicep and popped a sleeve. Dad was staring mid chew with focused, dilated eyes. It wasn’t hard to figure what happened next when the two suddenly stood up and abruptly ran out of the room. That entire night, I could hear screams and cries of sexual pleasure across the house that made it nearly impossible to fall into my dreams. I was hard but frustrated as I tried to block out the shouts that shook the walls thanks to dad’s stronger and heavier voice. Can’t get much worse right? Just raise the volume on a soft song, right? Problem solved? Yeah, it would be if you subtract dad’s powers. I wasn’t listening to Mozart on a blaring volume for kicks. The walls were shaking around me as I sat on the tall couch with its tall table. Dad and Jeff were at it again, this time harder than ever. Since last night, Jeff had told me how Dad was starting to get even more powerful and he wasn’t kidding. The walls were shaking as though a continuous earthquake were moving through the house. Walls creaked as dad was most certainly pounding Jeff like a jack hammer against the wall of their apartment….. in midair. Jef’s story telling about his escapades with dad were very detailed. It was still pretty weird hearing my brother talk about how dad was ripping him a new one with his supernatural flying, strength, and sexuality but I got by. I shuffled my body on the couch as best I could to try and stop my hard cock from pressing into my zipper but it was tough. I was my father’s son after all. My 11 inches of cock bounced in their confines thinking of what those two were doing and I hated every minute of it. I’m not fucking turned on by my dad, I tried to say as I pushed my hard on down to continue studying. The chemistry book I had bounced and fell off the living room table unnoticed as I focused solely on the papers before me. I was putting all my efforts into ignoring my dad and brother as they continued breaking in the wall. “Those two shouldn’t get a fucking room, they should get a fucking hotel” I grumbled as I adjusted my headphones and continued trying to solve this same equation after 20 minutes of staring at it. I was so absorbed in my own little world that I didn’t notice the shaking stop and the pictures on the wall stop shivering and hanging onto their nails as best as they could. Ten minutes later of mind numbing number cruching that got me nowhere with a boner stabbing my pants again, I wasn’t prepared for the giant shadow made by the large being in front of one of the living room lamps. “Whatcha workin’ on, Squirt?” came a deep baritone filled voice over me. I jumped in my seat and nearly fell the 5 feet distance from the seat of the couch to the floor but caught myself. I was so shocked from my own movement, I had to take a second to take in Dad’s form. His pecs were getting so perky and powerful looking that they were going to block our view on each other on this angle pretty soon. His body was covered in sweat that trickled down the grooves in his muscles like rivers of perspiration. I had to appreciate how lean dad was now, his muscles starting to show veins even when he wasn’t pumped. His short hair was matted on his forehead and looked as if he had been through a thunder storm. His powerful brow showed thick eyebrows that gave his face more masculinity than even Jeff or I expected of him. Dad’s face had a 5 o’clock shadow even though Jeff had shaved him in the massive bathroom after their…. morning escapades. Wearing nothing but a straining pair of tailored briefs that we’d customed ordered but were already straining, his muscles bulged with might. “Uh, nothing dad..” I mumbled. Dad grinned at me as if thinking about something. “Can I help you with nothing?” he asked with a fatherly grin. I raised an eyebrow as he asked that. Dad had tried helping us in high school because he’d met my highschool friends’ parents and how they had introduced themselves as the best parents ever, helping their kinds with their homework thanks to their knowledge from doctorate degrees. Dad had tried this and me, being the guilt ridden son that I was, tried to let him. Dad’s learning abilities were pretty shot after high school (or pretty much during for that matter). So helping wasn’t all that great. “Um…. Sure, dad. I’m working on my chemistry homework.” “Chemistry?! Ha! Lemme see!” he said as he came at me for the paper playfully. A 17 foot giant coming at you playfully was almost scary as I feared I’d get crushed by an avalanche of dad muscle. I shielded myself pathetically with my arms preparing to be crushed when I felt the paper leave my hand and my hair get ruffled, I opened my eyes just to see a big chin eclipse my vision before dad backed. “I haven’ seen you cringe like tha’ in years, squirt! Yar abou’ as teeny tiny to me as ya were back when you and ya brother were just toddlers. I swear I have to be careful or I could break that little shape!” I looked away frustrated as he looked at my homework. I didn’t realize it till he said it now but I really was shrinking in his eyes. I was a puny little thing to him that he called his son but in reality, besides the hair and eyes, I could have been anyone else’s child. And Jeff was just following his footsteps. I was shrinking and becoming a speck of human man like everyone else. Would Jeff get this big? Would I get this turned on by him? Would he gain powers? I was so in my own mind that I wasn’t watching as dad picked up my chemistry book in a puzzled fashion. He looked back and forth from the paper for a few minutes before setting down the paper and looking at the book, flipping pages. I grabbed my composure and grew a cocky grin. “Yeah, it’s pretty tough. It took me a day or so to figure out the formula and calculate it. You want to crack at it later?” I said in the most innocent way that I could. I was just happy that dad still needed me this much. He and Jeff were the big and super powerful ones but I’d get to be the smart one. I looked over at dad, his mouth unmoving but his eyes darting over the pages “Where’s Jeff?” I wondered as he read. “He’s on his bad. Poor kid is laying on his stomach and snoring hard. Tried to get him to stand but he just wasn’t able. He’ll have trouble walking for a bit” I was grinning to try and ease him out of the homework like I used to as I barely registered the information but something was different. The pages….. they were zipping by. Dad was flipping the pages practically every 5 seconds, giving them a rapid look and then moving to the next one like he’d memorized the pages. My eyes widened as I discovered what dad was doing. Dad suddenly hit the last page of the 300 page book with a thud and looked back at me. “Sorry, squirt. You waitin’ on me to solve the problem?” he said. I only looked shocked and handed him the paper. “Dad….?” I tried to say but Dad wasn’t listening. Dad took the paper and grabbed my pencil, snapping it. “Fuck” he said before taking one of my pens and confidently writing in the blank for the equation. His fingers zipped over the page, numbers, equal signs, and other things chasing his hand rapidly. I couldn’t decide if dad was destroying my paper or if he was…… Dad handed the paper back to me after 20 seconds and grinned. “How’s that?” he asked with raised brows as though his concern was more to be helpful than to be correct. I grabbed the paper with shaking hands and scanned it with wide eyes. Everything was… “Right” I said aloud. Dad grinned as he heard the word and his perfect white teeth shone. I looked at him shocked and almost horrified. “Dad…. You just read that book fast” “Whatcha mean? I read for about 2 hours like usual, right?” “No…..it was probably about 4 or 5 minutes…” It was Dad’s turn to widen his eyes as he realized what I was saying. He looked at the book confused. “It just came so easy. The book just made sense.” Dad looked at me with an excited grin and saw my open bookbag carrying several other books. “Hand me those books!” he said with an outstretched hand. I looked at the books as though they were gold I didn’t want to hand over. Dad had just proved his powers were still growing, and fast! I knew if I gave him the books I had, he couldn’t go back to being dumb old lovable dad. I didn’t want him to change anymore than he already did but I didn’t want to hold him back for something so petty. I grabbed the books in my hands and raised them over dad’s big hand. His hands were now wide enough to reach the ends of the covers from the end of his middle finger to his palm. I watched shocked as he read the 7 books I gave him, his eyes flashing over the pages at 10 seconds per page. First he passed through my statistics book, then my calculus book I’d bought ahead of next year. Then he passed over U.S. History and even my art History book, all thick 400-700 page books that he’d finished in roughly 30 minutes. By the end of it, there was a huge grin on his face and his eyes seemed to look at something far away. “Dad?” I said worriedly as he looked at the papers on my table and quickly grabbed the pen by him. My jaw dropped as I watched dad cut through any homework or projects I had like they were coloring book pages before he neatly stacked them onto the table again. “Shit” he said as he looked at the papers and then at his hands. I could see the gears move through his head as he tried to understand what had happened. “I….helped you with your homework. All of it….” I looked at the papers on the table and felt my stomach sink and my jaw go along with it as I was coming to an agreement on his statement. Everything was right and correct and showed work where it was needed. Each page was the equivalent to a perfect 100. Even when he crossed into high level calculus! I didn’t have time to sulk as dad suddenly stood up. When something as big as him stood up, you noticed it pretty easily. “Dad? Are you ok? You just solved all of my college level homework and finished it after reading all my books in under an hour!” Dad didn’t seem to totally hear me as he focused in on something as though he were looking through the wall. “Son” he said. I sat up as though he’d just given me a command as his deep voice sounded dumbfoundingly serious. He was like a large ferocious beast suddenly. Was it his actual size or was it his presence? Something had changed completely. “Warn your brother. We’re gonna be in trouble soon.” To Be Continued…….
  21. Calling Adrianna Stone a phenomenon simply did not do her body justice. She has completely and effortlessly dwarfed even the most muscular and freaky male heavyweight bodybuilders for the last 25 years. She was hulked to the max, sitting at around 400lbs in the offseason. There were multiple men, mainly strongmen competitors, who weighed the same or more than she did. But they were all also usually at least 6" taller, and her 6 foot tall body was much, MUCH more musclebound and better proportioned. She was gaining more mass every year, losing maybe only 20 pounds during her competition prep, always retaining her muscular gains.Every muscle in her body was overstuffed and straining for more growth- and so was her clit. At 8 inches long, it was bigger than some men's penises. Adrianna was a cougar personified. At 50 years old, she spent many nights after her competitions having the young studs and muscle-barbies she'd demolished try to please her insane libido. She was a massive, ultra-muscular behemoth of strength and size, and the entire world looked upon her in awe and lust. The entire human race worshiped the ground she walked on, with a tinge of fear. Tonight though, she was earnestly worshipping the monstrous muscles of the sole exception to that rule. Julia Ingrisano has turned 18 last month. She was beautiful without comparison; sparkling mischief-filled green eyes, silky smooth firey red hair, a dazzling white smile, high, rosy cheeks and kissable, red bee-stung lips. All perfectly placed on her angelic face. Her complexion was near perfect, her Irish and Italian heritages giving her a skin a healthy, soft golden glow, along with freckles dotted around her cute button nose. She fit the expression "face painted by God," to a tee. Julia was also a monster. Despite being just over 5 feet tall, this gorgeous beauty queen carried more than three times Adrianna's already unbelievable mass. Today was leg day, and Julia was doing back squats. She had borrowed a bulldozer from a construction site, and had it balanced across shoulders that were almost twice as wide as she was tall. Adrianna couldn't fit her arms around even one of Julia's gargantuan calf muscles, let alone her thighs. Thighs that swelled larger by inches with every strained rep that Julia pumped out. Erotic, lust filled moans filled the air around the construction site. Every sound from the mega-muscled teen distracting the workers from their jobs as they all stopped to watch this behemoth bulk her muscles up to an even larger more massive size. Adrianna's hands were desperately fondling Julia's monolithic wall of abs. They withered crazily with every breath. Even this freak's individually sliced obliques made Adrianna's gigantic pecs look malnourished. "Get bigger ," breathlessly whispered Adrianna. Julia was shaking from effort. At the apex of her final squat, she let out a high pitched shriek as she powered the machine up over head and began shoulder pressing the bulldozer again and again. Before Adrianna's adoring eyes, this super-human teen muscle-goddess began to add even more breadth to her delts, and lats. Her medicine ball sized pecs eclipsed her face completely, swelling to the size of bean bag chairs. Her traps and shoulders had long since risen above her head, squeezing around it with every press. "Fuuuck." Adrianna had tears and mascara running down her face as she watched this impossible muscle-goddess swell even larger. "I want you even bigger," Adrianna breathed. "You'll never be too massive for me. Grow for me..."Julia let out a earthshaking grunt as her pussy squirted her love juices with a terrifying force that forced Adrianna to her knees. She could have filled a bathtub with her juices. The scent of her musk sending the construction workers into a frenzy, more than a few fell into a lust-fueled coma. Adrianna had an orgasm as well. With her record-setting muscle, and giant fake tits, she was a well known porn-star- but barley worth mentioning next to Julia's titanic size, tremendous beauty and cosmic sexual energy.Julia kept military-pressing the giant bulldozer through her seemingly endless string of continuous orgasms. Her model shaming face twisted in a mix of pain and pleasure, her eyes rolling back in her head as her juices flowed down massive jutting quads and hamstrings.After several minutes, her pussy-lips stopped throbbing, just a little. She shifted the bulldozer into just her right hand, and continued pressing it. Mind-blowing shoulders creaked even broader and higher, her head now smooshed up against them even at the bottom of the reps. Julia was grimacing- or grinning? "Can't stop growing," she whispered softly. Her flood gates opened again, a pool of cum now forming around Adrianna who had fallen unconscious at the sight of such overwhelming size. "What a pity," thought Julia. "I'm just starting to feel the pump." The absurdly muscular beast that was Julia Ingrisano was only just getting started. *This is an adapted shorty story from @powerfulbodies (now deactivated) tumbler account. All credit for the plot is his!
  22. "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."
  23. Hello all. Found this story on an old computer. If I remember correctly, it was inspired by a story about the wrestler Scott Steiner taking on a bodybuilder from the 80’s. I can picture the bodybuilder, but for the life of me I can’t remember his name. Anyway, here’s my story inspired by the theme. It’s way over the top and fantastical. It’s unfinished so feel free to add (and share) your own ending. Wrestler vs. Bodybuilder Scott Samson made his way to the ring with his trademarked air of utter confidence. Standing in the ring, shaking himself out, the renowned professional wrestler glared at the entryway, awaiting his opponent as he removed his robe to reveal skin tight, mid thigh length black lycra shorts. The man was massive. His fans roared their approval when he unveiled his hugely muscular physique. They could hardly wait for the spectacle of this huge man flexing and posing. His signature post introduction routine always drove his fans into a frenzy. This special exhibition match was going to be unique. Samson, arguably the greatest wrestler ever to prowl the squared circle, would be taking on one Matthew Robert Horn. Horn was bodybuilding's current Mister Olympia and had won that title consecutively more than any man in history. To make things even more interesting, The massive Mr. Horn was fresh off winning one of the year's major grand champion titles in Mixed Martial Arts, the first professional bodybuilder ever to do so. Horn appeared and a stunning sight he was. He appeared to be in the best shape a human specimen could be in, even bigger than most fans remembered. He wore black and yellow striped, square-cut posers and nothing else aside from a black, rubber wrist band with the slogan “No such thing as too big!” printed in yellow letters. Almost as wide as he was tall, the first thing that dropped jaws was the size of his upper arms. He had an enormous overall build, but his arms stuck out in particular, the triceps and biceps bulging out without even flexing them. His signature single biceps pose was so awe inspiring that it had earned him the nickname “Matterhorn” in the elite professional bodybuilding circles. Horn stepped into the ring and the two opponents glared at each other as the ring announcer made the introductions. Samson raised both his arms in a double biceps pose and as he’d expected, the fans roared their approval as the two guns peaked into their full physical majesty. Horn didn't flinch. He slowly raised his right arm and flexed his own massive biceps. A hush came over the crowd as the mass of his biceps and the thickness of the triceps combined to make an unbelievable sight. Horn smirked at Samson for having the nerve to keep flexing in the face of such sheer muscle size and power. Horn moved his forearm back and forth, accentuating his muscle and turning his wrist to add to the definition, expanding that massive forearm in the process. Samson continued flexing and the ref appeared in the ring, a tape measure trailing behind him. "Looks like these two have something to prove.” The fans loved this and roared with approval, the prospect of these two behemoths engaged in a flex off prodded them out of the stupor that the shock of Horn’s sheer size had put them into. The ref placed the tape measure around Horn's right bicep. The big bodybuilder steadied his flex at maximum so that the ref could get an accurate reading. The referee’s eyes went wide with shock. After a moment of being struck speechless, he managed to read the measurement aloud: “Twenty-four inches”. These were wrestling fans. Samson was their guy, but the sheer mass of Horn’s biceps stunned the crowed. Many were shaking their heads in disbelief. The silence was broken by Samson. He said nothing, merely clapping his hands slowly in mock applause as he smirked at Horn. The big blond wrestler then raised his left arm but rather than flex that massive biceps right away, he merely snapped his fingers to get the ref’s attention. Tearing his attention from Horn, the ref moved to measure Samson's left biceps which loomed huge even relaxed. Samson turned his wrist in and his forearm bulged huge with thick veins everywhere. He brought his wrist out straight and then flexed that muscle up high and huge. The ref wrapped the tape around the wrestler’s bulging upper arm and carefully took its measure. “I don’t believe it Ladies and gentlemen, Twenty-four huge inches!”, the referee shouted. “The Matterhorn has met his match!”. The crowd erupted in a frenzy of cheers and applause! Samson merely raised an eyebrow as he directed his gaze from his flexing biceps to Horn who was gaping at Samson's arm, then back at his own. “I-It’s as big as mine?!” Horn stammered, clearly shocked that a mere wrestler had been able to match him. “A tie”. He said, absolutely stunned. Samson’s expression changed to a slight knowing grin. “Nah, ties are boring.” Bearing down, Samson forced his biceps to bulge still larger. The tape measure slipped in the ref’s fingers from twenty-four to twenty-four and one quarter! Twenty-four and one half! Twenty-four and three quarters! When that awesome arm reached Twenty-five massive inches, Horn's jaw dropped. He slowly lowered his own arm, no longer eager to see the enormous muscle he’d spent years sweating for in the gym get ever more dwarfed in comparison to Samson’s As the wrestler’s biceps just continued to bulge larger, Horn shook his head in abject disbelief. “You’re...HUGE!” Blurted the big bodybuilder. He then glanced around, embarrassed that in his shock he’d exclaimed his awe aloud. Samson smirked at Horn’s dumbfounded remark and brought his right arm up, going into a double biceps pose. “Matterhorn, say hello to a couple of Mount Everests.” He laughed with smug satisfaction as he continued pumping those mountainous muscles larger, the tape measure reading inexorably increasing as Samson flexed. Twenty-five and one quarter! Twenty-five and one half! Twenty-five and three quarters! Twenty-six! Samson’s mighty arm was utterly dwarfing that of an Olympia class bodybuilder! Its sheer mass was making Horn feel queasy. He felt himself sway unsteadily on his feet. He had to concentrate to maintain his balance as he wiped at the cold sweat that had broken out on his brow. Samson smiled as he surveyed the massive peak that was straining the referee’s measuring tape . “Think I’ll stop right there. Looks like I'm making the muscleman go a little bit green around the gills, wouldn't want to make him faint dead away before the match even starts”. Deafening cheers drowned out the announcer who was attempting to call the measurements. The announcer moved for the mic. "And your winner, Scott Samson with 26 inches!” The crowd went wild as the announcer continued, "We know who's bigger now, how's about we find out who’s stronger”. Through his astonishment, an explanation for Samson’s impossible mass suddenly occurred to Horn. He'd seen it all in his career, the myriad of ways unscrupulous competitors used artificial shortcuts to achieve fake gains. Samson must have cheated his way to such implausible massiveness. Whether it was implants or some kind of injectable, Horn didn't know. The technique might have been flawless but faking size was one thing, strength was a different story. Horn was determined to crush Samson’s superficial bulk, arm to arm. He'd show this preening faker the power within true, hard earned muscle. The crowd roared their approval. The ref had an armwrestling table brought into the ring. As soon as it was set up the two muscle gods charged the table and crashed their mighty guns together. Samson pressed ahead three inches and Horn pushed him back to center. Horn tried an offensive thrust but Samson didn't budge, a big smile on his face as he held Horn, at bay. Horn sneered. “Get ready to have that stupid smile wiped off your face. I'm gonna give you until the count of three, then I’m going to snap this puny, puffed up arm of yours like the little twig it really is!” Samson smirked. “Not sure a muscle-head like you can count that high, so allow me.” Samson began to count aloud. "One", he called and he pressed Horn’s gigantic arm four inches past the neutral position. Horn’s mighty arm flexed to new heights as he struggled to regain lost ground but he couldn’t budge Samson’s enormous arm. "Two", Samson took Horn down 4 more inches, four inches closer to defeat, like the other man wasn’t even there, even as he increased his mighty effort to resist Samson’s powerful onslaught. Horn’s arm began to tremble, every vein and fiber of muscle present on the big bodybuilder’s arm was visibly straining in an all out effort to resist Samson. At that instant, Horn’s biceps seemed beyond the size that any human muscle should be able to attain. But Samson’s big, rock-steady, mountain of a muscle totally absorbed all the incredible power Horn’s massive, straining biceps could muster. Samson grinned cooly. Then, he flexed his mighty biceps up to new heights. The sheer size of it was astounding and the move demonstrated that he had been able to drive Horn to the verge of defeat with only a fraction of his biceps true power. Horn’s biceps quivered and quaked with strain as it was utterly dwarfed by Samson’s even larger muscle. Eyes wide, Horn could only shake his head in disbelief. In all his years of bodybuilding, he had never seen an arm so huge. He'd been sure such size couldn't be real. But the wrestler’s strength was all too real. He knew what was coming. “Three.” Samson declared and with almost casual ease, he finished Horn off, slamming his arm to the table with a loud thud that seemed to reverberate throughout the stadium. Samson’s huge biceps had put Matt`s massive peak down for the count, literally. "Your winner…..Scott Samson!" The ref lifted Samson's arm in Victory for the crowd’s approval. Humiliated, Horn hurled the table aside and charged. He was going to enjoy taking this smug bastard apart with his peerless MMA abilities. The two opponents started trading blows. And not just any blows. These were mountain crushing roundhouse rights that came fast and furious, each opponent alternately delivering one to the other. First Samson’s massive, balled fist plowed into Horn’s thick chest with a resounding thump. Then Horn let fly in return with his own haymaker that landed against Samson’s chiseled abs with a teeth rattling thud. A huge one from Samson pummeled Horn’s abs in return. Horn shook it off with a grunt and his careening fist pounded Samson’s bulging pecs with a sound like a sonic boom. Feeling his battle lust rise, Samson laughed heartily as his powerful body shrugged off Horn’s punches. He focused attention on that perfectly developed bodybuilder chest of Horn’s, wanting to pit himself against the muscleman’s strongest attribute. The two titans continued to take each other’s measures with probing punches, testing for weaknesses that could be exploited. Horn decided that it was time to take the wind out of Samson’s sails. Clasping both hands together into a club-like double-fist, he brought down a devastating blow just above Samson’s solar plexus. The plan was to stagger his opponent with the devastating hit, then follow up by pounding his vulnerable midsection, reducing him to a breathless sitting duck to be finished off at Horn’s leisure. Instead, Horn’s opening punch merely bounced off Samson’s chest as the wrestler anticipated Horn, flexing his pecs into the incoming punch. Those granite-hard muscles deflected Horn’s fists, the recoil causing the bodybuilder to stagger backwards. Horn struggled and managed to recover his balance enough to follow up with his planned assault on Samson’s exposed eight-pack but the way all his power had just bounced off Samson’s thick pecs unsettled Horn. The wrestler had to be putting up a front. No one could absorb such a blow without feeling it. Horn roared with fury as his powerful right found its mark, pounding Samson’s abs. Still roaring, Horn pressed his assault, landing one devastating punch after another against Samson’s gut. It was like punching a brick wall, but given enough time, Horn knew that even a brick wall would crumble before the titanic muscular power he’d worked so hard in the gym to acquire. Horn looked up to make sure Samson didn’t slip in a lucky punch and interrupt the rhythm of his onslaught. Horn expected to see Samson’s face contorted with pain, his limbs flailing uncontrollably as he was battered so relentlessly. To his shock, he was met by a big grin of amusement as Samson stood tall, bouncing massive pecs that made even Horn’s renowned chest development suffer by comparison. “Careful there Matt. Ya never know when I might decide to flex the old beer gut. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” Horn struggled not to show his shock at Samson’s imperviousness to his punches. ‘Beer gut?’ Samson was mocking him, he may have been a mere wrestler but the man had abs that could hold their own on any bodybuilding contest stage in the world. And what did he mean ‘might decide to flex’, Horn wondered as he reluctantly marveled at Samson’s mid-section. Those abs...those obliques, the way his fists were beginning to throb with pain as his mightiest punches bounced impotently off them....Samson had to be at full flex. “Not...gonna psych me out. No way you can take much more of this.” Horn growled as he intensified his attack, strengthening his punches and increasing the speed with which they came. Samson's face changed, the grin was gone, replaced by cold glare. “Not calling me a liar now, are ya Matt?” When Horn drew back for his next punch, Samson put both massive arms behind his head and with a sneer of contempt at Horn’s puny punches, he crunched down hard, flexing his abs into super-defined columns of muscle that looked like a wall of cinder blocks. But cinder blocks would have yielded more beneath Horn’s fist. Horn’s battle roar transmuted to a howl of pain as his hand nearly shattered against Samson’s abs. Horn clutched his battered fist as Samson held his pose, flexing his impervious abs. The cocky wrestler even gyrated his hips, taunting Horn. “Why are you stopping muscleman? Thought you said this ole boy’s Bud belly couldn't take it. Surely you’re not gonna wimp out just because of a few bruised knuckles.” Horn gulped at the diamond hard cuts of muscle undulating powerfully over every inch of Samson’s midsection. He fumed at the patronizing way Samson kept using phrases like beer gut and Bud belly to describe abs that put Horn’s own to shame. “Or maybe you’re just mulling over some advice to give me; help me whip this gut into shape like you muscle show boys do.” The bodybuilder’s face burned red at the wrestler’s condescension. Even though Horn was currently in peak contest condition, his hyper-trained abs looked soft and barely defined compared to Samson’s astoundingly ripped abdominal display. Horn was becoming almost mesmerized by the wrestler’s undulating abs and obliques. The crowd was going wild. Samson seemed as though the cheers were a charge of electricity. He landed one of his own punches and Horn flailed back. “Snap out of it, boy, you're starting to drool.” Horn drew back to retaliate but Samson swatted away the punch with ease. His name was being shouted from the entire arena. He landed two quick, easy jabs, one to the right side of Horn’s square jaw and followed up by a left, the perfectly executed hits whipped Horn's head from one side to the other. Horn's arms fell to his sides. “Down goes your guard.” Samson narrated with a smirk and two more jabs that left Horn's body swaying unsteadily. “And there goes your balance.” Samson’s precise jabs seemed effortless, as though designed only to demonstrate his precision. But their power devastated Horn. “I could knock you out cold with these little love taps but I'm guessing this crowd wants me to show off a little.” Samson decided to put more raw power into a punch. “Let’s see how them mighty pecs stand up to a punch with a little more oomph.” Stomping the canvas like an enraged bull might paw at the dirt, he charged at Horn and let him have a haymaker of a right directly to the bodybuilder’s muscular, prize winning chest. The sheer power of it lifted Horn off his feet, catapulting his big frame into the ropes. The big bodybuilder struggled not to pass out from the devastating concussive force. He had never imagined that his mightily muscled body could be hurled through the air with such ease by one single blow. How could this buffoonish wrestler turn out to be so impossibly powerful. In perfectly timed anticipation, as if to confirm Horn’s fear of being out of his league, Samson planted his feet, put his hands behind his back and flexed his chest and abs into a wall of rippling muscle. The ropes had slingshotted the hapless Horn back toward the waiting wrestler and the big bodybuilder thumped into Samson’s muscles as he flexed them. Incredibly, Horn bounced off that wall of flexing muscles and back toward the ropes. His ears ringing and his vision blurring from the force of the impact. Samson charged closer and when the helpless, disoriented Horn careened off the ropes once more, he was again driven into Samson, who again flexed his pecs, bouncing Horn back into the ropes. Samson now stood toe to toe with Horn hemming him in against the ropes and with nothing more than the flexing of his mighty pecs and an expert sense of timing, Samson was pec-bouncing Horn senseless, hammering the bodybuilder into the ropes only to have them rebound Horn back against his flexing pecs over and over. Complete chaos erupted in the stands as the huge muscleman was bounced back and forth with each of Samson’s flexes like Horn was little more than a plastic ping pong ball. Being pummeled helpless by the immense power generated by the mere flexing of Samson’s thick pulsating pecs broke Horn’s will. “H-how can he be doing this to me? He’s gonna pound me to pulp...just by f-flexing”. There could be no doubt. The wrestler had him powerfully, even frighteningly outmanned, overpowered and outmuscled. Horn knew he had to get the ref’s attention, he had to concede before Samson killed him. But he was at the mercy of the wrestler’s mighty flexing pecs. Samson was watching Horn’s eyes closely as he effortlessly and repeatedly bounced the big bodybuilder off his pecs. When he saw the look of defeat there, Samson clamped a bearhug onto Horn on his next impact. He stepped back toward center ring with the dazed muscleman as he spoke close to his ear in order to be heard over the crowd. “Thinking about tapping out, muscleman? You wimp out on me and I’m gonna find you after the bout and I’m gonna stretch out on my back and instead of bouncing you off the ropes I'm gonna bounce you into the stratosphere, then into orbit.” As if to prove he could do it, Samson performed a slowly building flex of his pecs as he spoke that made Horn’s eyes go huge with disbelief. “Y-yer pecs…” Horn wheezed. “...crushing...me.” “Aw, I’m barely flexing, runt. Now man up and pay attention. Stay in the match and you stay alive. Got it? Otherwise I show you what happens when I flex these pecs for real.” Eyes wide with fear and awe, Horn nodded his obedience. “J-just please...stop f-flexing.” “Good boy.” Samson grinned and as a reward he briefly relaxed those dominating pecs. “Now, where were we? You made me lose count.” He released Horn but immediately pulse flexed his pecs, hurling the stunned bodybuilder across the ring into the ropes yet again, then bolted after him. The ropes stretched to an an almost cartoonish degree as the sheer power of Samson’s flexing chest drove Horn’s body into them with such force that the turnbuckles groaned with the strain. Unfortunately for Horn, the ring held together and the ropes snapped back, whipping him violently back toward center ring. He could see Samson sprint to a stop, halting his hugely muscled frame on a dime at the edge of the ring with a frightening degree of controlled athleticism for such a massive man. Clasping his hands behind his waist, Samson arched his back and presented those massive pecs as he waited for the impact of the hapless bodybuilder against them, a devilish smirk on his face just barely visible over the huge muscular display. “NO!” Pleaded the world renowned bodybuilder in the split second before, with practiced precision, Samson flexed into Horn’s impact. The thick torsos of the two men slammed together. Horn’s pecs slammed into Samson’s, flattening against the wrestler’s thicker, broader chest muscles which were expanding toward him. That explosive muscular expansion hammered Horn through the air like a baseball being blasted off the bat of a hall of fame slugger. Grinning, Samson alternately flexed each pec in an intimidating, rapid fire display as he watched the terrified, barely conscious bodybuilder ricochet off the ropes and hurtle back toward him. Samson bounced the Multiple Olympia title winner until Horn began to lose consciousness. "Gotta say Matt, I'm a little disappointed here." Samson sighed, as the repeated impacts of Horn against his unyielding pecs failed to even register as perturbations in his voice. "Didn't think I would have you this out-manned." Samson stopped bouncing his pecs, then with a big grin, flexed into a double biceps pose as Horn thudded to a stop against his chest and then crashed to the mat in front of him like a collapsing building. "Ohhhh!" groaned the announcer as he vicariously absorbed the punishment that Horn was receiving. You couldn't hear anything in that arena because of the sonic boom roar from the crowd and Samson's name being called out from every corner. The announcer tried to shout a commentary over the pandemonium but failing to be amplified over the thunderous ovation, gave up. Fans were even posing in a mock-Samson pose in the stands as well as giving Samson the applause of his life. Horn, meanwhile, breathed in the grit of the canvas as his face was ground into the mat from his massive frame crashing down. He couldn’t believe the power of Samson. Horn was arguably the most muscular bodybuilder on the planet, but Samson had pummeled him senseless just by flexing. As if to confirm his muscular superiority, Samson was hitting a flawless side-biceps pose as the ref ran around the ring pushing photographers away who had climbed up on the ring apron. Horn manage to sit up. Samson noticed and decided that he’d had enough posing. He moved to Horn and reached down for a handful of Horn's hair which he used as a handle to raise his dazed opponent to his feet. Horn returned his gaze with an open mouth and glassy eyes. “You’re tougher than I thought.” Releasing his hair, Samson held Horn’s eyes with a confident glare as the bodybuilder swayed unsteadily on his feet. Samson bounced the pecs he’d just used to devastate the big bodybuilder. “What I just did to you by bouncing these big boys was just a warm up, though. Ready for the main event?” Samson struck that unmatchable double biceps pose he was famous for. Horn swooned as those biceps towered over him. His eyes rolled back and his trembling body crashed back to the mat, his face eating dust again. Samson turned to the audience, giving them the best possible view of his unmatchable guns. “Guess I got too much muscle for the muscleman, huh.” He flashed a white-toothed grin as the crowd roared anew. The ref took to the center ring with his mic, trying to restore order. "I think Horn has had it, ladies and gentleman. Samson has, so far, out-muscled and out-gunned Horn!", shouted the announcer, relieved at being heard again over the din. "I've never seen Horn look like that! Samson is just too much for him!" The fans were in agreement as they shouted in approval. Samson agreed as well, and he continued flexing for the cheering crowd. Horn was showing signs of consciousness again. Again, Samson assisted the groggy Horn to his feet wasting no time, he sent him careening into the ropes. Planting his feet squarely in the center of the ring as he’d done when bouncing the muscleman off his pecs earlier, he waited as Horn rebounded. This time Samson raised his thick 26" gun, flexed quickly, then charged the oncoming Horn. The massive Samson arm clotheslined Horn and he flipped him into the air where he spun through 360 degrees! Samson kept his arm in the clothesline position and Horn fell from the air to land, draped across it with the giant biceps peak driving into his gut. Samson bent his arm at the elbow and flexed. In defense, Horn flexed his abdomen against the motion, abs against biceps. Biceps won. As his overmatched abs collapsed, Horn feared he was about to be snapped in half by Samson’s bulging arm. But Samson whipped the gasping man around into a bearhug. As he’d done with his abs, Horn desperately flexed his pecs against Samson’s chest to defend against their crushing mass. Samson smirked at Horn’s puny effort. He slowly increased the flexing of his unstoppable pecs as he spoke. “We already know you don’t stand a chance against a real man’s chest, don’t we runt?” Samson’s point was reinforced by the relentless way his bulging pecs were flattening Horn’s chest, considered one of the greatest in the sport of bodybuilding, but totally outclassed by the mighty wrestler. “I said ‘don’t we runt’!” Samson shouted, ramping up the bulging expansion of his pecs. Horn felt his torso being deformed painfully as it conformed to the rock-hard curves of Samson’s burgeoning chest. “Y-yes,” gurgled Horn. “please...y-your chest. Can’t...breath…” Samson laughed. “Well, well, well. I guess it’s time for the best chest in bodybuilding, to say hi to the best biceps in wrestling.” Relaxing his mighty flexing pecs, the wrestler rotated the bodybuilder in his bearhug so that Samson’s right biceps was bulging directly against the center of Horn’s battered pecs. “Flex ‘em up, boy.” Samson goaded as he began to tense his right biceps against Horn’s chest. “But your b-biceps, I...I can’t win.” Duval virtually groveled. “You're...too much…” But he flexed down as hard as he ever had in his life, afraid of defying Samson’s command. His thick pecs bunched up into a rock-hard shield against the slowly flexing peak of Samson’s impossibly massive right biceps. “Tell ya what, wimp, I’m gonna give you a fighting chance here. Not gonna squeeze ya, just gonna drive my fist into my palm and flex. All you gotta do is contend with a little bit of bulging from the flexing of my biceps.” Horn gulped with something like relief as he felt Samson’s bearhug go slack. With a glimmer of hope, he flexed his chest even harder, maybe he could still show Samson what a world class bodybuilder was made of. Neither the relief nor the hope lasted very long. Samson tensed both biceps and Horn’s eyes opened wide in sheer awe. The wrestler’s left biceps expanded at his back. It felt like being pressed against a giant unyielding anvil. The hammer was Samson’s massively peaked right biceps. The iron of Horn’s desperately flexing pecs was overwhelmed instantly. Horn managed a desperate, breathless groan of pain as he was slowly crushed between those impossibly hard, huge biceps. “What’s the matter Matt? Stuck between a rock…” Somehow Samson flexed his guns even larger, “...and a hard place?” Horn felt his ribs all but fracture, but he couldn’t make a sound at this point. As Horn began to pass out, Samson relented. “Yeah! Biceps win, huh, Matt?” He cradled the swooning bodybuilder in his left arm as he flexed up his right in a single biceps pose. He then draped Horn over his flexing arm again and began to pulse flex the giant muscle up and down. Horn’s entire body rose and fell along with Samson’s flexes. Samson noted Horn’s silence. “What, not convinced? You wanna try again?” The idea of that terrified the gasping bodybuilder. He shook his head desperately and finally managed to speak. “Buh-Biceps...w-win.” He concurred. “Biceps...win.” He repeated to make absolutely sure his surrender was understood. “YEAH they do.” Samson crowed, nodding his head. He seemed to be saying "Oh, I’m not through toying with this wimp." Plucking Horn From his flexing biceps, he slung the huge man over his shoulder and then pressed him overhead, using the massive bodybuilder like an exercise barbell, Samson pumped him up and down with absolute ease. Manhandling Horn’s mass with no sign of strain, Samson brought the bodybuilding champion around in front of his chest and, maintaining his grips at Horn’s left knee joint and neck, Samson started curling him for rep after rep. Samson never showed the slightest sign of slowing or tiring, but the motion alone was enough to make his 26 inch biceps pump up to their unbelievable max. Samson seemed to grow frustrated with the lack of challenge presented by curling Horn like an oversized dumbbell. “C’mon Matt, you need to put on some real muscle. It’s like curling with a toothpick .” Samson hoisted Horn high overhead with one arm and then slammed him bodily to the mat like a discarded paper cup. The impact bounced the ref off the canvas. He managed to come down on his feet but he had to steady himself on the ropes. Samson scooped up Horn like a ragdoll. He wedged the struggling man’s head between his left biceps and forearm, then climbed to the second rope at one corner of the ring. Samson stood balancing against the top rope and suspended Horn over the crowd by hitting a single biceps pose and dangling the muscleman with his head still trapped by that flexing biceps. Horn clawed at Samsons steely arm, trying to free his head as his feet flailed in the air. “Aww, that big mean ole muscle too hard on your poor noggin?” Samson teased. He grabbed Horn by the neck and held the man high, showing him off like a trophy. When the cheering this induced died down, the wrestler flexed his mighty right biceps once again. The crowd cheered more. They never seemed to get enough of those god-like arms. Then Samson folded Horn almost gently over his flexed arm. With a mighty grunt of effort he flexed his right biceps with such speed and power that the explosively expanding muscle catapulted the defeated bodybuilder high into the air. Laughing, Samson watched Horn fall back toward him. He flexed up his left biceps and twisted at the waist so that Horn crashed back down onto that mass of bulging muscle. “Gotcha!” Samson called out as Horn’s big frame slammed into the even bigger muscle, where the bodybuilder once again lay limp, folded over the wrestlers arm. The feat stunned the crowd to silence. It didn’t seem possible to be so far above other men in sheer size and strength. There was a single sound that could be heard in the awed silence. “No...m-more.” Pleaded Horn as he slapped weakly at the wrestler’s huge biceps. “S-someone...someone...help me.” Samson laughed. “Who’s gonna help you, runt? One of yer muscleman pals?” The wrestler flexed his left biceps again with unimaginable speed and force. The bodybuilder was hurled high again almost to the ceiling of the facility before plummeting back down to thump bodily against the wrestlers insanely powerful flexing right biceps. “Bring ‘em on, I say. The more the merrier.” They watched in awe as Samson flexed again and again, bouncing an Olympia worthy bodybuilder from one mighty biceps to the other like a child toying with a rubber ball. “Might be fun pumpin’ these big ole biceps like this, only juggling you and Priest and Wheeler and Yates. HAW HAW, now THAT might even be a challenge. See how many of you Olympia types I can keep in the air at once.” At this point the crowd was actually starting to flee the arena out of fear. The ref was watching Horn bounce off Samson’s biceps repeatedly in a stunned trance, oblivious to the pleading, half conscious looks the helpless bodybuilder managed to affect after each impact with one of those omnipotent muscles just before being heaved skyward to new heights by the next unstoppable flex. Finally, Horn slammed into the multi story high roof of the arena after one of Samson’s phenomenal biceps flexes. “Oops.” said Samson with an almost sheepish grin. “As tempting as blasting you through the roof might be,” Samson explained as Horn’s huge but limp body slammed back down onto his massively peaked left biceps. “the owner is a pal of mine.” “P-please…” Horn managed, gasping for breath. “I’ll do...anything. Just...no more.” Samson laughed, flexing his left biceps larger and sending Horn higher. “I think it’s safe to say that I got the muscle to make you do what I want, with or without your cooperation.” He reached with his free arm and grabbed Horn, wrapping a thick, powerful hand around the traumatized bodybuilder’s neck and lifting him off that mountainous biceps. Samson wrapped his arms around Horn and pulled him against his bulging chest. “So your offer don't mean much, does it?” Horn was in no position to argue the point. At his back, forearms like sequoia pinned him against the impossibly huge, muscular expanse that was Samson’s pecs, while on either side of him, like massive planets poised to collide, the wrestler’s gargantuan biceps threatened to pulp him between them with the merest flex. “Please.” Horn pleaded, gasping. He was aware of his powerfully developed chest rising and falling as he struggled to catch his breath. The mere sight of this never failed to elicit slack-jawed stares of awe in the gym after an intense session. But against Samson’s vastly thicker, denser pecs, his frantically heaving chest was like the beating of butterfly wings against the steel hull of a battleship. “Your muscles...you’re super...human. I never...had a chance.” Samson tensed his pecs ever so slightly. Horn’s body was compressed between those two burgeoning slabs of muscle. “Guess you shouldn’t have challenged me then, huh muscleboy?” Horn struggled futilely to free himself, but Samson responded to the big bodybuilder’s efforts by flexing those awesome pecs to such massive proportions that Horn’s entire torso began to be wedged into the cleavage between them. “NO! God no! I'm...stuck between...you gotta stop.” Horn pounded futilely against the surging, titanic slabs of muscle that were Samson’s unstoppable pecs. “You...can’t keep flexing bigger...you’ll flatten me!” Laughing, Samson released the bearhug and placed his hands on his hips, holding Horn in place between his pecs with nothing more than the crushing force of his flexing chest. “Flatten you? Such a drama queen for one of the mightiest pro muscle dudes on the planet.” Samson grinned wickedly as he continued flexing those mountainous pecs slowly larger. “
  24. Host: Hello everyone and welcome to another season of "Gainers". I am your host Freddi Fit and you may remember me from becoming the muscle alpha I am today on our very first season just three years ago. *Freddi Fit raises a double bicep flex, stretching his button down short sleeves to their limit. "After all, who can forgot that glorious moment when I was voted to steal everything from Hank The Tank who had been growing massive all season. It was a major upset and the audience was ready to see a new alpha show that brute a lesson. Since then I've been living the dreams as America's hunkiest bodybuilder. Well tonight this dream begins once again with 8 brand new contestants. After twelve weeks, one of them will be left with a hulking body while the others leave smaller than they came. And like always, every week you the audience will decide who gets what. Now let's not waste any time here and meet our contestants. Screen switches to contestant video number one. A nineteen year old college wrestler named Cam. "Hey everyone! The name is Cameron, or Cam for short. I've been wrestling for six years and I can't wait to show the other men who the real jock is gonna be. Maybe if you're lucky you might even see me put some of them in headlocks and drain the muscle from them." Screen switches to contestant video number two. A 39 year old college professor who has been working out for many years. "Hello everyone, it Max here. I've been a health science teach for about 10 years and have always wanted more in life. I'm hoping to win and become the next leading model for muscle god magazine. Either way, I'm hoping to teach the other men a thing or two about what it means to be blessed with muscle." Screen switches to contestant number 3. A 24 year old ex fire fighter who recently begun a modeling career. "If you thought fighting fires was hot, wait till you see me on nothing but my suspenders. Hey everyone my names chad. Make sure you vote for me this season so I can become the muscular flame that makes you sweat." Screen switches to contestant number 4. A 31 year old cop from NYC. "Hey. It's Stu. I've been lifting ever since becoming a cop, but to keep the streets safe, I'm going to need your help to grow my guns and have the fire power needed to intimidate the bad guys and fight crime." Screen switches to contestant number 5. A 27 year old businessman. "Hello everyone, being a businessman keeps me quite busy. So I'm going to need your help building these muscles as big as they can get so I can really fill out my suites nicely! By the way, the name is Dominique." Screen switches to contestant number 6. A 42 year old father. "Hello everyone. My name Ken. Before I had children I was in pretty good shape. However since then I've begun to get out of shape. I need your help to be bigger and better than I was when I was younger." Screen switches to contestant number 7. A 21 year old college graduated pursuing a career in acting. "Hey y'all. Zac here. I've been trying to make it big as an actor but you know they are looking for muscular guys these days. Help me become a jacked up actor." Screen switches to contestant number 8. A 25 year old man living in his parents house. "Hi everyone. I'm Tony, and I've been having a really hard time finding a job. Can you help me you help me out and give me the chance to pursue a career in fitness and get the hell out of my parents house. They'd really appreciate it as well!" Tony is clearly the smallest guy. Although he still has slight hints of muscle, there isn't much for the others to take. Host: "Well don't we just have a great batch this year. The group will be entering the growth cell now where they will spend the next 12 weeks changing. Go online now to vote for your top 4 favorite guys who will receive a special serum boost tomorrow night to start off the game. And don't forget to send in your nicknames for each dude. The most votes will decide what we call each contestant from here on. Anyways. Goodnight Gainer fans! Freddi Fit signing off!" *Freddie fit solutes the camera and transitions in to an archer pose as the credits roll.*
  25. Hi all, this is my first story - please let me know if you have any feedback, or if you want to see more. ----- I feel like I’d been staring at the monitor for hours. I traced out the equation on the screen with my pencil, then tapped the pencil’s eraser against my nose. Everything looked correct. I’d tested the formula on mice, run it through various computer simulations, and mapped out the worst-case scenario, over and over, for nearly a year. Since I was 15, I’d worked on my dream project, certain it would give me everything I wanted. “Ted! Are you coming to bed?”, Jenna asked. Jenna already knew the answer, but this was part of our nightly routine. She got in bed at 11, called for me at 11:30, I said “Five more minutes!”, and I worked on the computer until 2. But this time, I was done. I was sure of it. She wasn’t exactly sure what I was working on, but thought it was for work. Otherwise, why would I have three computers, two printers, a 3-D printer, and on and on in my office? It was most certainly not for work, of course. When I was 15, I’d gotten hooked on muscles. Having them, that is. Being huge. Going to the gym was boring, slow, and incredibly unsatisfying. But, ah, if there was a way to chemically force my body to grow muscle, then that would be the most efficient route. I didn’t really think stuff like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was real, but maybe the human body just needed the instructions to induce actual drastic physical change. All you needed was software and something to power it. So I taught myself biology, chemistry, anatomy, biochemistry, DNA, physics, programming, etc. etc. – and actually netted myself a doctorate in the process. Now 27, I’d dedicated 12 years to this fantasy, but there was a nice side product – I might actually have a working formula. A formula produced a solution that jump-started a chemical process in the body that built muscle consistently and steadily, over time. With a daily dose every morning, I’d be a mass of muscle in just a few months. Computer simulations suggested it would work, but the mouse trials that produced big, aggressive, strong mice – that was really something. I had started shopping for speedos and man-thongs online, and found myself masturbating or forcing myself on Jenna constantly. She didn’t understand why I wanted to fuck at 2am, but I wouldn’t take no for an answer. I hit the switch on my computer to start synthesizing a dose for the morning, and headed to bed. I pulled the covers back, and climbed on top of Jenna. “Ted, come on - I have a big day tomorrow.” “I‘m finishing a big night right now.” She sighed and let me peel her pajama pants off. I pulled her panties aside, and pushed right in with no warning, pumping away. In anticipation of having the muscle to totally dominate her in a few months, I was a little rougher than usual, squeezing her shoulders, and her ass. “Ow! What is with you? I gave you some ass.” “Just loving my little Jenna.” She looked annoyed, but played along. --- The next morning, I got up an hour early just to down my dose. I had a little coffee machine-type device I’d rigged up years ago that could create any type of liquid concoction you might want from a variety of ingredients, liquid, powder, or what have you. I even had orange Gatorade added for flavor. I quickly picked up the dose – a small quarter cup of translucent green fluid – and swallowed it. It didn’t really have much of a taste – maybe a faint copper flavor. I immediately got an erection, but I chalked that up to excitement. For the next week, I took my morning dose, and found myself jerking off non-stop, and I even began jumping on Jenna as she came in the door. I peeled off her clothes at the front door and pounded her on the couch. During the week, I weighed myself, measured my body parts, and did visual checks, even taking nude selfies. I should have seen minor muscle growth evenly across my body, including penis growth (yes, I added that in). I’m a pretty average guy – 5’9, slender, but no real muscle tone. Dick … average? Around 6 inches or so, but I was going for a pussy-splitter. Something in the neighborhood of ten inches. I wanted to hit …. maybe 6’4, 6’5? And the body needed to be massive. Wide shoulders, big pecs, the whole thing. I had a computer layout of my body measurements and how to chart them until they hit world-class bodybuilder dimensions. But after doing measurements on day 7, I saw no changes. Nothing. After 7 whole days, I saw no difference whatsoever. Nada. I didn’t get discouraged; after all, some medications needed time to build up in your system before having an effect. Okay, maybe I was a little discouraged. No more constant hard-ons. Jenna was fine with this; she had started to get pissed whenever I started grabbing her ass or pulling at her clothes. “Oh, I get a night off? Great. Maybe you should lay off the porn. Or look at it more. The opposite of what you’ve been doing.” I didn’t even bother to respond – I was curious why I hadn’t seen any gains. The next morning, I took my dose downstairs, and dumped it into a glass of orange juice. I started to butter an English muffin, and reached for the glass, only to feel someone’s pajama pants. Jenna? I turned, and she was finishing my orange juice. “Sorry, chief. That was the last of the OJ, and you were supposed to buy more.” I stared, slack-jawed. “You know you were on grocery duty. Don’t give me that look.” I slammed down my knife. “God DAMMIT! That was fucking mine! What the fuck-“ She was taken aback, unsure why I was spazzing out over orange juice. I cut myself off mid-swear and marched upstairs. I checked to see how long it would take to synthesize another dose – 4 hours. I heard Jenna slam the front door as I hit the start button. --- When I got home that evening, I went straight to my office and gulped down the dose. Then I started making dinner. Jenna came in as I was boiling noodles. “So… what was this morning all about?”, she asked. “I was being a jerk and I have no excuse so I’m cooking dinner and hoping you’ll forgive me for orange juice,” I replied. “Are you feeling okay? You were all despondent last night. No computer work, no begging for sex, nothing. A girl starts to wonder if she still has her charms,” Jenna looked at me quizzically. “Oh, just stressed out about a timeline for work, and I was a giant baby about it to you.” I wasn’t being honest, but I couldn’t tell her the truth. The more I thought about it – I wondered… should I tell her? She drank a potentially body-altering chemical that could- no, she had one dose, and her body will dump it. If nothing happened to me in a week, nothing is going to happen to her. We watched a movie and snuggled on the couch before going to bed. The next morning, we both woke up together slightly early. Jenna felt around for my cock, and started stroking – that wasn’t like her. She was very much about her routine in the morning. Then again, we were up early. “Hey Ted. How’s little Ted? I mean, how’s Big Ted? Or Medium Ted? Does he even have a name?” Jenna reached inside my boxers. “Good morning to you too,” I offered. I put my hand under her shirt to touch her stomach. Jenna had a very average girl-next-door body, with no real muscle to speak of – but my hand was touching some… muscle? She was usually so soft, but this was firm. Jenna pulled her shirt off and mounted me, and we had a quick morning session before getting dressed. She certainly looked different. Just a little. Could the formula have affected her? As I got dressed, I looked at the morning’s dose. I took it downstairs, and dumped it into a glass of orange juice. Jenna came down right behind me. “Here, kiddo – have some juice,” I said, holding out my glass. “After yesterday? Nuh uh, I’ll just walk around outside with my mouth open until it rains,” she started to reach for the fridge. I put my hand on her shoulder. “As the man who was wrong and a giant man-baby and should apologize to his beautiful girlfriend much more than he does, I beg you to drink this peace offering.” I held the glass up like a fancy bauble to Indiana Jones. Jenna smiled and took the glass. I figured I could rig up another dose later that day; I needed to see if Jenna was actually benefitting from the formula. Over the next week, I kept up the orange juice gag – and it became a part of her routine. I had my dose in the afternoon, she in the morning. And, god damn it – she was growing. I noticed that her softness was giving way to more firmness, everywhere. Her shoulders seemed wider. Her hands seemed a little bigger. Her thighs, thicker. Her legs had always been fairly pencil-y, but she was starting to show tiny calves. Calves. Over the next 2 weeks, she grew – slowly, but surely, she was getting bigger. I, on the other hand, was exactly the same. I tried mixing my dosage with orange juice, I tried eating what Jenna ate, sleeping when she slept, everything she did. Nothing. I went back and checked the equations, reviewed my math, reviewed the science – I was back to staying up until 2am. My work was just fine. So what was the fucking problem? Later that night, I was jolted awake. “Ted?” I rubbed my eyes. Jenna had been patting my face harder and harder until I woke up. “Huh?” I made eye contact with Jenna. She turned on the lights, pulled the sheets back, and climbed on top of me. “Jenna, it’s…. what time is it?” She started to pull my boxers down, but I put my hand on her wrist to stop her. She didn’t even make eye contact as she swatted my hand away. We wrestled back and forth until she just reached through my fly and started beating me off. My cock responded to the attention, but I was getting mad. It had been… a month? I’d been trying this muscle experiment for a month after doing over a decade of research, and I had nothing to show for it. My girlfriend, all 5’5” slender build of her, was getting bigger. Growing muscle. Getting stronger. Getting more aggressive. Hornier. More dominant. Well, that was stopping. I tried to push her off, which only succeeded in pissing her off. “So when you want some ass, the store is always open. When I’m in the mood, the shop is closed? That’s how it is?” She was definitely pissed. “Jenna, I need sleep-“ I was not in the mood. I was about to get her off of me when she slapped me. It wasn’t hard, but enough to catch me off-guard. I expected her to storm off and sleep downstairs – but instead, she grabbed my cock, and inserted it into herself, and started going to town. Before I could start to protest, she already had my wrists held down, with her knees at my hips, pinning me in place. She leaned down and bit my lip to keep me from talking. --- The next morning was a Saturday, so I expected to sleep in. I found myself, however, being nudged by Jenna. “Ted, go get my orange juice. And breakfast.” Before I could argue, she reached into my boxers, and started fondling my dick. I was awake now. I took the morning dose down with me, and dumped it into a glass of orange juice as I got some English muffins ready. Wait, what was I doing? I just told myself I was cutting her off. I stared at the glass of juice. “Ted! What’s the ETA on that juice?” I supposed, at this point, I should keep the trial going, and see how she progresses. Right? Plus, the sex was great, and I had time to see what was wrong with my formula. I took the food and drink upstairs. She downed them right away. “Oh, that’s it? I was thinking maybe some fruit, too.” She did the puppy dog eyes. “Yeah, maybe – I’d have to go out.” “Great. I need to eat better for the next few days for my physical next week.” She started to adjust her pajama shirt. “Then again, I’ve been feeling great lately, and my yoga class on Wednesday is really paying off. I’m seeing some muscles pop up.” Physical? What physical? That might be a problem – she might have elevated testosterone levels. Was this for work? Hmmm. Interestingly enough, this is the first time she’d acknowledged her body’s changes. “What physical?” I asked. “Oh, that once-a-year thing at work where they do blood pressure and bloodwork to raise awareness about … I’m not sure. But everyone skips junk food for a week. Why?” She didn’t make eye contact – she was too busy rubbing her hand back and forth across her newly-appeared ab muscles, which she just seemed to have discovered. I shrugged as I realized I was getting hard watching her explore her new body. “How ‘bout that fruit, champ?” --- As I browsed the Safeway for … fruit, I thought over the formula in my head. Maybe Jenna was exposed to something at work. Maybe something in my genes was blocking the chemical reaction. I wasn’t on medication, and neither was Jenna, except birth control. But now, this physical, that was a problem. Could it get her fired? Maybe I should tell her. Up until now, this whole thing had been… unethical, at best. What had I done? I came in with two big paper bags full of enough fruit to fill a grocery cart. Jenna was waiting in the kitchen, and started eating the bananas. “Jenna, can we talk?” “Sure. Is this about more fruit in the car?” “No. This is about your physical.” She didn’t make eye contact. She’d fit the entire banana in her mouth, and was rummaging through the bag until she got a peach. “You may have something in your system that might come back on a blood test,” I started. “I don’t think your jizz will come back on a blood test,” she said, pulling an apple out of the bag. “No, not that. A few weeks ago, you drank my orange juice, and I got upset… because I’d put some medication in there for me,” I was looking at the ground. “Well, if it was a one-time thing, I’m sure it’s out of my system, but now I know why you blew up over juice, so hey,” she nodded to the side. “It wasn’t medicine. It was an experimental… drug. For me. To build muscle automatically. And I’d been taking it, and still am, with no success. But you grew muscle right away, and you’ve been on it for the last month. And that’s why you have abs and muscle, and why your pants don’t really fit. And why you’re hornier.” I looked up. She was looking right at me with a blank stare. She put the finished apple on the counter. “Excuse me?” she asked. I shrugged. “It was wrong, and I’m sorry, but … I had to see if it wor-“ I never finished the sentence. Jenna had balled up her hand into a fist, and driven it into my cheek. I went to the floor. “What the… FUCK…. is the matter with you? I could be eating poison. I could have cancer. What the … shit?!” She ran upstairs. I could tell she was pulling a suitcase out of the closet and stuffing it. She came down the stairs a few minutes later, with a half-zipped rolling suitcase, a shirt poking out. I tried to block her path to the front door, and it became another fight like last night. Again, I thought I had my foot down firm, and was sure I wasn’t budging; we pushed back and forth until she shoved me aside. I tried to grab her arm, but she just swung wildly with her fists, landing a few punches on my shoulder and back. I tried to pick her up, when I felt my feet leave the floor – she had picked me up! She flung me to the side, and stormed out the door. That went about as badly as it could have, I guessed. I cleaned up the furniture we’d knocked over, and put a bag of frozen peas on my cheek. I couldn’t tell if it was going to bruise. I tried calling Jenna’s phone. Straight to voicemail. I spent the rest of the day sitting on the couch, staring at the TV, which I didn’t bother to turn on. I still took my afternoon dose. I went to bed at 11, and looked out the window for any sign of Jenna. I thought about driving around to friends’ houses, hotels, or who knows what, but I was pretty sure she didn’t want to see me. --- I was jolted awake by someone rubbing my shoulder. “Huh? I turned on the light by the bed. It was Jenna. “I understand why you did it.” She took off her clothes except for her underwear and bra, and climbed into bed, spooning me as the big spoon. I had no idea what to say. An hour later, she woke me up again by grabbing my cock, lightly slapping my cheek. “Let’s go, mama needs.” “Huh?” I was so out of it and confused. She didn’t wait for an answer. She held one hand on my chest while she worked my cock with the other. As soon as I was hard (it didn’t take long), she started pounding away. “I want you to keep giving me the drug.” "But I thought you-“ she held her hand over my mouth. --- Over the next two weeks, I kept up the drug for both of us, with only her seeing results. She started to show real muscle definition, especially in her quads and back. Her energy levels kept going up – she started jogging in the evening, just to burn off her excess energy. We had sex as soon as she got back, and again in the middle of the night, every night. She had me order a cock sheath online just as a back-up in case I was ever too tired to fuck. She also had me get Viagra, dildos, and so on and so on. The evening sex was very much a relationship-type couple fuck session – but the middle of the night was not. As time went on, she got bigger and stronger, and the sex got rougher and more painful. Every morning I found new bruises in the mirror, mostly on my shoulders and waist. I had some big ones on my ass where she squeezed me too hard. Once, she bit my tongue too hard – as I started to make a noise, she clamped her mouth over mine, and squeezed my shoulder like her hand was a pincer, giving me worse pain somewhere else as a distraction. The night sex was clearly all Jenna taking control. I was, at this point, a dildo named Ted. I enjoyed it, except for the bruises and stuff in the morning. We had reached the point where I could no longer physically stop Jenna from doing what she wanted; fighting her just meant more bruises, possibly on the face. It was just easier to give in. In the meantime, I hadn’t discovered why the formula wasn’t working for me. I was ready to start testing the coffee or something at Jenna’s office. As for her physical, Jenna simply called out sick that day. Jenna was, under her clothes, ripped. Her work clothes pretty much hid everything. She had thick arms and her thighs stuck out. Chun-Li would’ve been impressed. She ate like a high school football player, and had become mostly impatient and demanding. Most of our interaction that wasn’t about sex or food involved her giving me commands by placing her hand(s) on my shoulder or ass to push me in the desired direction. I had started taking a daily regimen of aspirin to cope with the sore back, hips, shoulder, neck, and legs. I felt like I’d just crawled out of a car accident. Sex had become a writhing beating where Jenna pummeled me into the mattress. It was starting to become a painful chore. I’d realized that I couldn’t stop Jenna when she decided it was time to fuck. As we both got ready for the morning in the bathroom, she pushed me out of the way to use the toilet. Then she pulled me out of the shower so she could get in first. Then she shoved me aside so she could use the mirror. That’s when I realized she had gotten taller. She had been 5’5”, and I was 5’9” – but we were nearly even in height. Son of a bitch. I came downstairs for a Saturday morning cup of coffee. Jenna was at her laptop. “You didn’t get stuff for breakfast. No coffee for Ted until you come back with food.” she said without looking up. “After I have coffee,” I said as I walked into the kitchen. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Ted,” she said. I stopped. Should I joke my way out of it, or just ignore it? I opened the cupboard for a coffee cup. “Don’t fucking dare, Teddo. Grocery store,” she repeated. I ignored her and pulled out a red mug. She got up and I instinctively braced myself. She put her hand on my shoulder and started to pull. I couldn’t resist. She didn’t budge a millimeter when I tried to push her back. “You know the rules.” I tried to put a hand in her face, but that was slapped away, and followed with a firm slap to the cheek. I tried to swat at her hand, and was slapped again. She shoved the car keys into my mouth and clutched my junk. “You be a good Ted and come back with Jenna-food, and little Ted gets to play.” “Ted is tired and needs coffee,” I said as I pulled the keys out of my mouth. I tried to squirm out of her grasp, but she wasn’t having it. It was like trying to move the Statue of Liberty. “Look, if your muscle formula dealy worked on you, you could have coffee, but it didn’t, so you can’t. Go get food before I get pissed. Do you really want to ruin the weekend?” I did not. --- As I filled a shopping cart with food, I wondered if I could just cut her off. She’d probably notice the muscle loss, but wouldn’t be as aggressive. Was it worth the gamble? She was pretty smart, and she wouldn’t lose the muscle for a while. It would be a few months before I could physically defend myself. All the ‘what ifs’ went through my head: it was entirely possible the effects might be permanent. Taking her off the drug cold turkey might put her into withdrawal. She might get angry enough to break an arm. Or worse. When I went home, I decided the best plan was to talk. When I walked in the door, I heard her rummaging upstairs. I put the food away, and went up to talk. As I walked in the bedroom, I was treated to the sight of my overly muscled girlfriend abusing a giant blue dildo. I was dumbfounded. She finished and took a shower, ignoring me completely. When she got out, I tried again. “Jenna-“ “Ted bring food?!” she mimed gorilla-like movements. “Yes, but first, we should talk,” I started. “Okay…” “I think you can recognize that you’ve become bigger, much bigger, stronger, and more aggressive than the old Jenna. I’m a little concerned, because, well, you’re basically raping me every night, and treating me like a slave. I think we should try to wean you off the drug.” I waited for her reaction. She was still naked, but had no reaction. She pulled on a thong and a sports bra. Her breasts had grown, not to a ridiculous size, but definitely a large C, supported by growing pectorals. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “Ted, I think you’d admit I’m a girl of routine, and I’m pretty sharp. Yes?” she put her hands on her hips. “… yeah…” “Every morning, I meticulously weigh and measure myself, and have tracked a steady rate of growth. If that changes or stops, there will be trouble. I have never felt this good about myself, felt more in control, or felt more like a … a… I don’t know what. But a few months ago, you did whatever the hell you wanted, whenever you wanted, and I was fine with it. Now I’m in charge. I’m bigger, stronger, whatever. I get to eat, fuck, choose furniture, decide our bedtime, pick a TV show, choose our vacation, or whatever. I do. Me. I’m in charge. Me.” She took a step toward me. I realized she was between me and any sort of exit. Fuck. “I’m not saying you’re my bitch or slave or servant, or anything like that. But I’m in charge. Do you understand?” I nodded. “Good. What do you think will happen if I notice I stop growing?” I looked at the floor. “Do you need an idea of what will happen?” I didn’t answer. I started to feel hot all over, sweating. “Answer me, Ted.” I looked up. She was almost nose to nose with me. I realized, unfortunately, that she was slightly taller than me. Her shoulders were wider. Her arms had veins. Her forearms were thick with muscle. I knew if I moved even a little bit, she was going to swing at me, or something. “Um,” I was stalling. I couldn’t really run. She held my chin with her finger and thumb. “What do you think is going to happen if you screw me?” “You’d be upset.” “Yes, I would. What would I do to you?” “Probably hurt me.” “How would I do it?” “I don’t know.” “I am going to give you a sample.” I froze up and my stomach started to twist. She was going to cross a line, but I hadn’t done anything! She quickly shoved me up against the wall and punched the wall repeatedly, leaving a hole. My feet were off the floor. “You are going to keep me growing. If that changes, I will break something. Should I break something now as a warning?” I shook my head. “Good. You’re going to get back on your computer, and you’re going to stop looking for a way to grow Ted muscles, and instead, grow a bigger Ted dick. Do you understand?” I.. what? “Dick. Bigger. Grow one. Do you understand?” I nodded weakly. “Good. You have two weeks.” “Two weeks? I can’t-“ “Two weeks, Ted, or I break something. The first break will be something you can still work with, like the arm you don’t use. After that, I’ll start breaking stuff you need. Got it?” She let me slump to my knees and she stomped out of the bedroom and down the stairs, undoubtedly to forage for food. Jesus Christ, I hoped there was food downstairs. --- I took the next two weeks off from work to dedicate to the dick formula. But I also kept working on a muscle formula for me. Maybe I could come up with something that would work overnight, and I’d be able to overcome Jenna. Jenna had reached bodybuilder proportions. Like, stupid 80s steroid-sized proportions. People in public stared and made hushed comments. She was up to 6’1”, I think, and had Arnold-esque arms. She had broken the bedframe from sex, and we (well, she) placed the mattress on the floor. She had started hitting me during sex, usually slapping, and sometimes she squeezed me so hard from cumming that I nearly passed out from the pain. The last day of the two weeks had arrived, and I was no closer to finding a dick-growing solution. “You know, if this doesn’t come through, I’m going to have to find a better lay at the gym. You really can’t take it any more,” she gloated. That night, I stared at the computer screen. Nothing was wrong. So what was I missing? I decided to check my email when it hit me – this computer had an internet connection. I went through my logs to see what record there was of any external connections – sure enough, an IP I didn’t recognize popped up a few months ago. Son of a bitch… was I hacked? I started over from scratch, and redid my formula, working through the night, capturing a few things I could change to speed up my muscle growth, and seeing if anything had been changed. Sure enough, something in the code made an almost-unnoticeable change that altered the formula. Digging deeper, I realized it needed a special set of circumstances to work – basically, the formula would only work on a female. I hadn’t seen it before, I reasoned, because I was simply double-checking what I thought was my own work. God dammit. I unplugged the Ethernet cable and finished up. By the time Jenna woke up, the doses were being produced. “So you did it?” she asked? “Yeah, worked up until the deadline.” “Good for you and your little dick!” she exclaimed. I rolled my eyes. Once they were both ready, she downed her dose but stopped me from drinking mine. “First, we need a before and after.” She ripped my jeans in half and cupped my balls. She held out my cock and measured out the three soft inches. “How much are we going? Six inches added on? Eight?” she asked. I shrugged. “I didn’t have a chance to test it, but my math suggests about 5 to 8 inches. It shouldn’t take long.” I replied. “Good, because I can’t live on this nub anymore. Let’s get some photos,” she used her iPhone to take a few dick pictures. She clutched my cock in a death grip and tugged. “Let’s grow already!” She grabbed me by the throat and pushed me down to my knees. She squeezed my face to hold my mouth open and poured the dose in, then clamped her hand over my mouth. She fondled my cock, expecting the process to be automatic. “Well?” she looked at me skeptically. “I probably need food.” I choked out. She let me up, and I snacked on a few things. After an hour, nothing had happened. My heart dropped. Jenna held my junk in her hands and looked at the clock. “Looks like your new cock is a no-show. I guess I’m going to have to beat the shit out of you to teach you a lesson, then I’m going cock-shopping at the gym.” My stomach started to hurt, when I felt a cold rush moving down. Was I seriously going to shit myself in fear? I looked towards the bathroom, just a few feet away. “I gotta go!” I yelped. “Yeah, you’re going to go meet the nice folks at the ER.” She slapped me in the balls, and I doubled over in pain. She held my wrist in a pincer grip. “Get up. You can suck on my clit before I break your arm.” I tried to push her off and reach for the bathroom door, but she didn’t move. My entire body felt hot, then it felt like my back started to… peel. I wanted to scream, but couldn’t. Jenna let go of my wrist as I straightened out and stood up. Her face was all shock. “What the … fuck?” I caught my reflection in the microwave door glass. I was… huge? It worked! I was huge. HUGE! I realized I now had several inches in height on Jenna, and was much, much wider. Jenna was frozen in place. I made a show out of cracking my knuckles. My turn. I moved forward as Jenna tried what she’d gotten used to doing over the last several weeks: swinging at me. I easily caught her hands, and scooped her up in a bear hug. She writhed back and forth to try and get free, but I was too strong. I slowly squeezed as I walked up the stairs. I dropped her on the mattress. She looked unsure what to do as I ripped off what used to be a pair of shorts, letting out a painfully hard cock. She started to scoot backwards, but I grabbed her shoulders, and pulled her face-first towards my cock. She was able to take most of it, but I pulled her off, and held her down as I drove my dick into her unwilling pussy. I used my hips to pound her, payback for her angry sex with me. She tried to push me off with no success as I unloaded weeks’ worth of frustration. I let her punch me in the chest, but she might as well have been punching a brick wall. I felt myself ready to cum, and pulled out, pushing my cock head into her mouth as she struggled. She couldn’t pull away as I pumped round after round of jizz into her mouth. My cock reached the back of her throat, thick enough to give her no choice but to swallow the entire load. I wondered if I’d gone too far, but then, she grabbed my still-hard cock. She was actually enjoying it. She pulled me back inside of her, and we went again and again. Each time, we wrestled and abused each other with slaps, punches, choking, and whatever we could do to try and hurt each other – but neither of us seemed able to actually be hurt by it. I still had the size and strength advantage. She took another load down her throat, and accepted me forcing her to take it. She rolled over and pulled her sheet up. My cock was actually going soft for the first time, worn out by hours of hard fucking. Laying next to Jenna, it was like having an arm or a front-hanging tail nestled up against her. She was asleep, but I still cozied up as a big spoon behind her. I wondered what she’d do when she woke up – would she attack me, destroy my computer and equipment, run away, or what? I wrapped my arms around her, clasping my hands, reasoning that she’d break free of any type of binding I might find, and fell asleep. --- I woke up first, as luck would have it. Sunlight was starting to peek through the sides of the curtains. My arms were still around Jenna, but my hands were no longer clasped together – I guess that was bound to happen. But as I looked closer, Jenna’s shoulders seemed… wider? … fuck. I carefully pulled the sheet back. She was bigger, all right. She’d grown during the night. I guess that made sense, she’d had a dose yesterday. She was nearly my size, but it still looked like I had an inch of height on her. She must’ve felt the cool air with the sheet off, and began to stir. Now what would I do? She stretched, and rolled over to make eye contact. “Well, yesterday was something. I guess I was kind of a bitch, but you deserved it,” she started reaching for my cock. “Me? What did I do?” “Uh, hello? You treated me like a guinea pig. I guess it worked out, though. All of you grew, and you ended up being a lot of fun,” she started tugging. As she looked me up and down, she paused. “Did I grow?” She jumped up, and started pulling on my arm. “Am I bigger?” She started looking both of our bodies up and down, sticking her leg out to try and compare calves. “No, I’m still bigger,” I said. “For now,” she retorted. “Let’s get me another dose.” “No fucking way. You tried to break my arm,” I got up, and looked around for something to put on. I wasn’t really in the mood to fuck, even if my body was starting to get in the mood. “You’re fine. And I wasn’t really going to do anything,” she said. “That’s not how it sounded. We’re both done with that stuff.” “Says the guy who’s bigger and stronger.” I found a box of speedos I’d ordered when I had anticipated muscle growth, and put it on. “So you’re cutting me off. What the fuck.” I didn’t reply, but she walked over and reached into my speedo pouch, pulling out my quickly hardening cock. She got on her knees. “Well, feed me something.” I jerked off and quickly spurted several large loads into her mouth. That was interesting; she’d never liked swallowing before. Throughout the day, we just fucked and argued about the drug. She swallowed me each time, insisting on stopping and pulling my cock into her mouth for me to finish. She was really pushy about it. I eventually had enough, and just bent her over to keep her from getting her way. She tried to fight out of it, and I ended up putting her through the wall. We fell asleep in bed together again. In the morning, we had to get ready for work. Luckily, we’d ordered clothes online, so we had things to wear to work. We wouldn’t really be able to hide our growth, though. I had no idea how I was going to explain my body – Jenna’s growth had been gradual, even if unnatural. I decided I could work remotely until I figured something out, though I had no idea what that might be. While I was deep in thought, Jenna had rolled over and put her mouth on my cock. I tried to pull her up to meet face to face, but she wouldn’t budge. Huh. I thought I had the advantage. I was able to stop her from working my cock, and she moved up towards me until she was completely on top of me. She quickly moved to hold my wrists down, before I realized it. I struggled, but her position gave her the advantage. Then I realized we were the same size. Son of a bitch. She noticed it too. She used her knees to push my legs apart, and managed to slide on to my dick. She was in control. We seemed to be even, but her position made the difference. “Well, well. Looks like I’m still growing. You might be in trouble soon.” How was she still growing? She hadn’t received a dose. I spent the fuck session worrying about tomorrow, but my dong did all the work. Jenna got off and went about her routine to get ready for work. I worked on my computer while simultaneously looking over the formula. The code looked like it had changed. The introduction of a certain thing would cause a female who’d received a dose to grow. That thing looked like… semen. How the hell had someone changed it? My head swirled with questions, but I was able to come up with a solution for work. With a few minor changes, I created a formula that would give me the ability to instantly change back and forth from old 5’9” lazy Ted to muscle freak Ted. After thinking about it, I made up two doses, with one for Jenna. Just to be safe, I thought, I made a separate formula that would reverse the recipient to normal, putting it into an empty tube marked “Rash Relief”, and put it on the bathroom counter. I drank the concoction, and waited. After an hour, I had intense stomach pain, and headed to the bathroom. I spent the next hour vomiting. When I got to my feet, I was … Ted again. I was a very pale, sickly-looking version of the old me, that was for sure. My clothes hung off of me, no longer being stretched out by swollen, veiny muscle. I looked down – it was the old dick, too. I kind of wished I’d kept the monster cock, but I could always fix that later. I went back to work and waited for Jenna to get home. I wondered how she’d react to my, uh, shrinkage. --- Jenna came in that evening with a few bags of groceries. I waited upstairs as she started cooking dinner. I could feel my heartbeat pounding through my chest. Why was I so worried?, I wondered. I could grow again if Jenna came after me. But I realized that might be the end of our relationship if she really turned out to be a monster. I started down the stairs. “Ted, do you want-“ she froze as she saw me come down the stairs, pale and slight. I stood there waiting for her to say something, but we just stared at each other for what felt like forever. “Hi,” I started. “What … happened?” she had been holding a baking sheet, about to layer it with foil, and was now clutching it. I tugged at my shirt, several sizes too large. “I’m not sure why I look like someone who’s been stranded on and island.” “Ted, you looked that way before you grew. You didn’t really eat and you didn’t go outside.” she was looking at the floor now. “I was … kind of rough on you.” She stepped toward me, and pulled on the shoulders of the shirt. “Are you okay? Did the formula wear off or something?” “No, I did this. I decided it’d been enough, and just reversed the entire thing,” I pulled a small vial with a top out of my pocket. “I have one for you, and… we can just go back to the way things were.” She took the vial between her index finger and her thumb, and walked into the kitchen without saying a word. She unscrewed the top, and promptly dumped the whole thing down the sink drain. “Wh-what… what are you-“ Before I could finish, she stomped back over to me, and drove her fist into my stomach. It lifted me off my feet, and dropped me to my knees. I was out of breath and in piercing pain. I landed on my knees, and immediately took a upwards punch to my chin. Another shot struck my right cheek, followed by one to my left that kept me from falling over. It all happened so fast I couldn’t see it. Jenna grabbed me by my hair and dragged me into the living room. Repeated hard slaps to my left cheek left my skin stinging. A fist came in hard at my shoulder driving, pushing me to the ground, followed by several more. I held back tears and cries; my shoulder was overloaded with sensations of pain. “Fuck… you!” Jenna lifted me with her hands under my shoulders, like a small child. She held me up with one hand, while her other pulled my shorts waistband back. She was looking at my now-normal junk. “You didn’t even keep the dick. You asshole. I was worried for a moment you were sick from the formula, but no – you just wanted to put me back at – at being the little woman you can push around. Well, fuck you.” She dropped me to my knees, which were now hot with pain from being thrown and dropped. I tried to push her away, to no avail. As I got to my feet, she punched me – right in the balls. I was curled up in agony on the floor, trying to keep myself together. I could feel her footsteps moving towards the stairs as I tried to figure out if I she’d crushed my balls. She stomped up the stairs, going for… my office? Then I heard crashing and metal scraping noises. She was destroying everything. My computer, the equipment, the formula processor, everything. A few moments later, she was back. “That guarantees you’re tiny Ted from now on,” she said, starting to reach for me as I instinctively recoiled. I thought about changing, growing, to stop this. I wasn’t even sure if it’d work. Or, if it did work, what if I only grew a little at a time? I figured it wasn’t worth the risk in front of Jenna. “Jenna, I spent years working on that. Why would you do this?” She pulled me to my feet. “No more questions. Go get the monster cock sheath. After you’re done taking care of me, you can finish dinner.” I went upstairs as she watched, arms folded. At the top of the stairs, I could see the mess of computer parts and holes in the wall in my office. I went into our bedroom, and pulled a 10-inch rubber cock out of a bedside table drawer. As I walked by the bathroom by the top of the stairs, I could see a small plastic tube marked “Rash Relief” was still there. So I had a back-up plan. I finished cooking the dinner Jenna started, but she ate all of it. Every time I reached for something she would grab my wrist, and take it first. “You can just eat some Saltines,” she said. I went to the bathroom just to get a break. As I pulled the elastic waistband of my shorts down, she opened the door, and quickly grabbed my dick. She squeezed, hard. “You know, if I want to, I can stop you from pissing. You need to ask me for permission.” “What? That’s insane. Leave me alone, Jenna.” She squeezed harder, somehow, and my dick felt like it was going to pop. The pressure was unbearable. “Okay, okay, please stop, please!” She let me go. “Go clean up, then you can rub some body cream on me. Then maybe you can piss.” She watched as I cleaned the kitchen. I rubbed her body down, which was fun, but I had to fucking piss. “Can I go now?” I pleaded. She opened the fridge, and pulled out a jug of water. “Start drinking,” she said, smiling. I knew any answer but obedience would be a severe beating. I drank as much as I could. I didn’t bother trying to stall – she’d probably force the entire thing down my throat. I got about a third of the way through the jug. “That’s all I can do,” I said, panting. “You can piss when you finish the whole thing.” I wanted to cry, but held it together. I tried to move toward the bathroom, but she blocked the kitchen exit, and tipped the jug toward my mouth with her hand. “I can’t do this, I have to go!” I pleaded. “If you can’t finish it, then just piss yourself.” I had no choice. I just let it go, and the wet stain on my pants grew, and began to drip on the floor. “Oh Jesus, just go.” she said. I hurried to the bathroom. As I finished up, I had to see if I had the ability to change on command. I wasn’t exactly sure how to do it, but … I had to do something. I balled up my fists and looked myself in the mirror. I tensed up. What should I do to make the change, exactly? That wasn’t something I could exactly program. I looked at myself closely in the mirror, and pulled off my baggy shirt. I pictured my body growing to gigantic, muscular proportions. “Ted, what’s taking so long? You need to clean up your mess.” I felt a burning sensation in my lower back, and my skin felt like it was peeling, quickly, almost like ripping. I could see my arms swelling, shoulders spreading out, and my chest pushing out. Veins began to pop out here and there. My stomach started to show separations in my abdominals. My forearms swelled. My cheekbones pushed out. My hands widened. I tensed again, and looked myself over in the mirror. Was I as big as I was before? It was hard to tell. Maybe I should be a little bigger. As I thought that, I grew again. My shorts were concealing an inhuman bulge of cock and balls. My thighs had ripped my short legs. Looking down, my calves jutted out. I guesstimated how big I was compared to Jenna. I should have a few inches on her, but thought I could use a few more. I looked in the mirror and saw myself get wider, taller, thicker. I looked like I could push the house over with one hand. I had to be near seven feet tall, and … Jesus, I couldn’t imagine how much all of this weighed. “Ted?” I smiled. “Shut the fuck up, Jenna.” “What did you say?!” I heard her stomp towards the bathroom door. As she pulled on the knob, I pushed it open, and I could feel her stumble back. She had a fist in the air when she saw what I’d become. I had a good six inches and over a hundred pounds on her. I quickly took a step forward, and covered her fist completely with my hand. I realized the pain in my shoulder and cheeks were gone. Huh. She struggled to pull away from me with no success. I trapped her in a mock hug, and smiled. “We need to talk.” ----- *** To Be Continued ***
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