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  1. Here is a new story from a friend featuring one of my favorite subjects. Big muscle daddies . I'd been talking about a story like this with my friend and they decided to write a story on it. Just to be clear, this is not an incest story. And it follows in a similar genre as my Elongro and Performance Incentive stories. So there may be elements of domination, humiliation, cucking, etc. Again, just to be clear, I did not write this, but was given permission by the author to share it here. Enjoy! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Chapter 1 - Dr. Tait Holden, MD, Ph.D. sat in his office at 345 Park Avenue Manhattan dictating another report. It had been an exhausting few months. Since he attended the college football championship game in January there had only been a few days that he had been home. Travel all over the nation, living in hotel after hotel after hotel. Dozens upon dozens of days long interviews with clients. Just as many or more consultant meetings and video conferences each week. Having to attend gladhand receptions and dinners with the more hands-on owners when he would much rather have been home. But the end of the yearly ritual was within sight. It was now early May. He was back in his Manhattan loft full time, and, at last, the busiest part of his work year was almost over. That was not to say Tait actually liked New York City. It was just a necessary evil. At least the Spring weather was nice here. He just had too much Nebraska in him to ever feel comfortable in a two bedroom - two bath top floor loft in Chelsea that he bought strictly for its vaulted ceilings or in a suit in the corporate offices. In fact, he often mused about the size of the mansion he could have bought back in Omaha for what he spent on 1200 square feet here. But, as much as he did not like Manhattan, at least he wasn’t always on an airplane living out of a suitcase. He could get some fresh air on the roof of his building after his morning run with a cup of coffee and a quick hot tub boil to relax his quads and calves before work. Cramped, crowded subway commutes were never fun for him, but having his own kitchen each night made sticking to his new workout and gym goals much easier. Those had been KILLER to maintain on the road to be sure. But, he never turned down a challenge. Besides, he thought he had progressed quite nicely on those goals over travel season, all things considered. Just a few more weeks. A few more weeks of reports and these meetings and he would finally be able to close the Chelsea loft for the summer and take some vacation time at his Montana cabin. In the remote wilderness with just himself, the animals, and his private gym, he could really focus on his training undisturbed until fall. Sure there would be some work between the first day of training camp and week one, but that would be the exception, not the rule. Tait was reciting long lines of dry medical jargon into his headset, when an unexpected buzz brought him out of his notes. He pressed pause on the mic control, and the main switchboard operator’s voice sounded. “Doctor Holden. Sean Foley from the PGA is on 7-2788 for you.” Tait smiled to himself as he told the operator to transfer the call to him. Sean was one of the best professional golf coaches on the planet, counting players the likes of Tiger Woods and Justin Rose among his clients. Getting this type of call would be unheard of for most doctors, but for Tait, it was run of the mill. He was, after all, one of the preeminent sports psychiatrists/psychologists in the United States. Tait flipped another switch on his mic to change from the computer dictation program to the phone lines, and a button on his desk phone connected the call. “Sean. It’s been quite a while. How are you man?” “I’m good, Tait. Covid took a toll on business, but what didn’t it take a toll on. How are you?” the man replied. “Trust me, I understand that. As for me - rough part of my season winding down and craving a vacation,” Tait said. “So, what can I do for you? You finally want to cash in that favor I owe you? If so, I know this perfect spot just off the coast of Miami. Private island, warm–” The voice on the phone quipped. “No way. Having you on the hook for a favor is too valuable to give up on just anything.” Then the voice became earnest. “Listen, Tait, this is - rather personal. Well, more personal for you I dare say. I don’t know if it is my business to tell you or if you already know. But you're a friend, and I have to say something. “Something is very wrong, Tait. Have you talked to Kane lately?” Tait’s jovial mood changed instantly. “Not for months, Sean. Between the rush for the draft and - well - you know - Kane being Kane. Thought it best to give him some space and let him call me. What's –” The voice interrupted. “That fits, Tait. But this is different. Fuck, Tait. I'm worried. Let me explain.” *** In Mountain View, California, a twenty-five year old man sat watching the sun rise in a quiet upper middle class neighborhood in which anyone could be happy. Except that the young man wasn’t happy. He hadn’t been happy for months. Not since that day at the gym. Since then, even his fiancé, who at one time made him unconsciously smile just being in her presence, couldn't rouse him from his preoccupied doldrums. It all started after that guy – no, he couldn't face it. It was too – Suddenly, his cellphone rang. The iPhone played a ringtone he had not heard in ages - Ozzy Osborne's “Patient Number 9.” The young man literally groaned as he picked up the phone to see *RESTRICTED NUMBER* as the caller. That ringtone was no accident then… Why now? He thought. Why now? Of all people on earth. With what happened, why him? The universe must hate me…. But the young man knew there was no way to ignore the call or the caller. No way to resist the inevitable. No one ever resisted this caller. Not in all the years he had known him. It was like trying to resist the gravity of a black hole. The only way to avoid it was to go around it and never interact with it. But now, he had to. The young man took a long breath and blew it out. Time to face reality. He clicked on the answer icon. “Hi Dad.” “Hi, Son. How are you?” a deep voice replied from the box. “OK. Just the usual,” the young man lied. “What’s up?” “I'm going to be flying into San Francisco tomorrow night and staying all next week. I would like to speak with you and meet Lacey while I am there. I know it is kind of hard for you to bring the girl home to “meet the parents” so to speak. But while I’m there, I thought it might be a good time. It is way past time I met my future daughter-in-law. “Are you both available for lunch Thursday? Say Hog Island Oyster Company at 12:30? It's a bit of overkill I know, but I want to make a good first impression on my new family. And I really want to see how you are. My treat, of course.” Oh fuck, the young man thought. Not just interacting but flying straight into orbit of the black hole. Then, he calmed a bit. Dad has to meet Lacey sometime though. Maybe it can just be lunch if he is working. I hope so. I can't be exposed to hi- The young man banished the thought he was about to have before he fully had it. It was too creepy to ever contemplate. It was wrong too. But it came again. And again. And again… The young man tried to clear his head. He yelled out so that it could be heard by the deep voiced man. “Lacey, do you have time Thursday afternoon for lunch? Dad is on the phone.” In response, a beautiful young woman came around the hallway from the bedroom into the living room. Her face was beaming at the prospect. Their marriage will become much more real after finally meeting her future father-in-law in person. She immediately agreed. “Lacey said it’s fine Dad, so I guess so.” “Great. I am staying at the Four Seasons for work. So, I will meet you both at the restaurant. Just ask for my reservation. I am really looking forward to it, Son. It has been far too long.” As the phone disconnected, the two men on opposite ends of the country - and from the same but opposite worlds - each breathed a sigh. In New York, Tait hated lying to his son. He could count on one hand how many times he had, and some of those had been misdirections about Christmas presents. He had finished in California weeks ago. But something was wrong, and his son needed him. In California, Kane Holden's stomach tied into a knot. He loved his dad, but his father was more of a force of nature than a man. Tait Holden was… His god of a father was coming. And after the dude at the gym, the universe really did hate him. *** When Kyle and Barbara Holden welcomed their fifth child and last child - their first son after four daughters - into the world in 1978 it was a dream come true. Every man dreams of having a son, and that was especially true of the Nebraska cattle rancher. He was not only from a long line of cattlemen, but also a long line of athletes. He himself had been a full scholarship O-line player at the University of Nebraska. His brother had been on the 1968 Olympic wrestling team. And before he settled onto his own ranch, his father had played for twelve seasons with the Phillies and the Dodgers through the 1950’s. His father’s two World Series rings sat proudly in the office at his ranch to that very day. But, at that moment in Creighton Memorial St. Joseph’s Hospital, no one grasped that the infant they named after his two grandpa’s, Tait Michael Holden, would tower over every accomplishment anyone in their families ever had. From the start, it was obvious that Tait was a special baby. First sign was that he was big for a newborn, being 8 pounds 12 ounces. But that big baby would only become BIGGER. Beyond that, Tait was speaking basic sentences at a year old. Reading basic stories at 3. When most little guys were only interested in Sesame Street or GI Joe cartoons, Tait was voraciously learning anything, showing a curiosity in everything from the classroom to snakes and prairie dogs on the ranch to how the cattle were managed for market. By the age of 12, Tait had raised and sold his first steer after winning first place with him at the State Fair. And then another, and then two, and then four. By the time he had graduated high school, Tait had well over eighty thousand dollars in savings from selling his Fair animals and prize money. Tait would have been an incredible rancher if that had been his destiny - but his academic and farm accomplishments were mirrored by his physicality and sports performance. Like all the Holden men, Tait inherited tremendous physical and athletic potential, and in Nebraska countryside tradition, Kyle started his son playing flag football as soon as he was of age. Tait took to the sport like a duck to water. By the time he was a high school freshman, Tait was already playing varsity as a hulking 6’4” terror of a tight end. At high school graduation, he had won every football award possible for high schoolers in the state of Nebraska and more individual player awards than any athlete in Nebraska state history to that point. Of course, Tait was recruited by practically every single division one athletic program that had even the smallest hope of landing him. The only thing that disappointed Kyle at the end was his son’s final decision of where to commit. Instead of one of the highly visible national programs, Tait chose Stanford. He explained that he wanted to develop his mind as well as his football skills, just in case he were injured and couldn’t play and Stanford could certainly do that. Besides, he reasoned, no matter the team’s record, as long as he played his very best game and learned under legendary Stanford head coach Bill Walsh - the NFL scouts would come to him. And come they did as Tait became a once in a generation position player. When Tait’s body finally stopped growing, he was just a fraction under 6’9” tall, and the strength coaching and nutrition staff transformed him into a 315 pound gridiron titan. And it was by no means a flabby 300 pounds. Tait was obsessive in the gym and with diet, so much so that the layer of fat so many tall footballers had simply wasn't there. Tait’s genetics would have allowed him to become a pro bodybuilder if he was not a football player. His body and strikingly good looks made him into what would one day be called the poster child of “aesthetics.” Tait had a 61 inch chest, 22 inch biceps, with a wasp waist of 32 inches that was the same size as each quad. He looked to literally be carved from rock, more like a giant Frank Zane on the field than a Junior Seau. Of course, any college footballer who was 6’9” and more than 300 pounds was tried out on the line and Tait played magnificently there. But, his true skills were at tight end. His gigantic hands made it next to impossible for a quarterback to miss him when called upon to make a catch. And Tait was extremely good at making up for bad throws so that they still wound up in his mitts. His massive legs could push that body at incredible speed for his size, and compared to defensive secondary players who were 100 pounds lighter than him - trying to tackle him was like trying to stop a freight train. And when Tait was called on to make a block for a running back, those who were unfortunate enough to be targeted felt like they had been plowed over by a Union Pacific locomotive. The nickname stuck - so that when the “Freight Train” made a play, the Stanford student section would start chanting lyrics, singing along to a new song by Metallica that was first sung just a few miles away in San Francisco playing over the stadium speakers - No Leaf Clover - “Then it comes to be that the soothing light / At the end of your tunnel / Is just a freight train coming your way / Here it comes.” Tait’s physical gifts were built right along with his mental skill on the field. Under Walsh and his position coaches, Tait had also become an incredible football mind. He absorbed every lesson Walsh and the coaches taught - from how plays unfold across the whole field, to how his own position operated in various schemes to how plays themselves were drawn, even how the players' workouts augmented play making. Tait employed these skills relentlessly. He might have been a freight train in one play but in the next he could work with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel. That versatility made him almost impossible for opposing teams to defend against, Tait was one of the few players on the college level Walsh ever trusted to have the quarterback or center make audibles in an instant based on the defense. What generational greats like Peyton Manning was to Tennessee or Charles Woodson was to Michigan, Tait Holden was at Stanford. After four seasons, when Tait finally declared for the NFL draft, he was a Stanford team captain, a 4-time First Team Academic and on the field All-American. It was rumored that Tait was the inspiration for the creation of the Mackey Trophy to recognize the best tight end in college football since he never won a Heisman. Nevertheless, he was an easy top ten first round pick. Tait spent 8 years in the NFL during the 2000s, amassing 2 Superbowl rings, 7 consecutive selections for the pro bowl, and 4 first team all pro rankings. It was argued in NFL circles that if he had continued playing, he would have been tied with Jason Witten and Tony Gonzalez as the greatest tight ends of the modern NFL. He was definitely heading for the Hall of Fame. But, unexpectedly, at the age of 30, Tait retired from professional sports. The official reason Tait gave was that he wanted to make sure he maintained his health from possible injury or concussion disorder. CTE was becoming more and more popular in the discussion of player health and Tait was a massively hard tackler. But the real reason was very different. Social media barely existed at the end of Tait’s career, and at that time the press barely covered player families unless they were famous beforehand. No one ever spoke of the players' children. So, few outside his team and fewer true friend’s knew about Tait’s wife. Her name was Jess Walker. Tait met her at a party when he was a Stanford freshman. Next to Tait, she was tiny at 5’1” and 105 pounds. But she was perfect for her spot on the gymnastics team. And she had gotten involved in a new sport from a gymnastics coach in Santa Cruz that he called “Crossfit.” For the first time in his life, Tait was thunderstruck by a girl. He was awestruck that such a petite girl could be so fit and strong and do the things she could do. But it was every single conversation with Jess that pulled Tait in. He could just lie on a couch and hold her and talk with her for days on end it seemed. They soon began exclusive dating and became quite the item on campus. But, as sometimes happens, in their junior year, Jess retired from team sports as she was pregnant and soon gave birth to a baby boy - Matthew Kane Holden. Although Tait wasn't religious, he had been raised with salt of the earth, mid-western values. So his first inclination was to marry Jess, stop football, and go to work. But, both Jess and her parents would not hear of it. They refused to allow Tait to give up his career and his future, even with a child on the way. Eventually, Tait agreed, but he and his family would provide everything Jess and Kane needed while waiting for him to go to the NFL. The Holden's lived up to every word - with Jess completing an MBA while waiting. Finally, in Tait's second year in the League, he and Jess married in a tiny ceremony in the prairie church in Nebraska where his family had married for generations. Tait deeply loved Jess and his boy. Though his looks and body made him a virtual pin up model with the expected continual offers of sex when he was on the road with the team - and sometimes right in front of Jess - he was absolutely faithful to them. They seemed to be on the road to long term happiness. But then the phone call came - There had been an accident on the freeway. Jess’s petite body stood no chance in the force of the impact, and she had passed from her injuries. Luckily Kane had been with his grandparents so he was unharmed. But Jess was gone. He was widowed at 30 years old. Tait was devastated. He decided at that moment to do everything he could to provide family and stability for his son, and to not risk his body again. Tait retired from football less than a month later. And rather than live on his well-invested football money - he had been paid over 38 million dollars in his career which had already almost doubled through wise investment - or become a coach, Tait decided to use some of his money to go back to his alma mater - Stanford. Tait was easily accepted into Stanford Medical School, graduating as a single dad with an MD and a PhD in what was then a new and upcoming field called Sports Psychology. After four years of residency at The University of Pennsylvania, Tait became a licensed sports psychiatrist. He was specifically approached and accepted a job offer from the NFL corporate offices in New York. He was commissioned to begin a new mental health services division under the contract that had just been negotiated between the Player’s Union and the League. Tait provided psychological services to any team organization, from mental health seminars and how to develop mind-body connection to interviewing potential draft prospects for teams from a psychological perspective. When Tait made that call to Kane, he was 44 years old. He had gone on to become the manager of behavioral health practitioners for the League and an incredibly respected NFL representative. He showed favoritism to no one, not even his old coaches and teams and teammates. And, as a former player, he was in particularly high demand to supplement mental health services and team doctors. Through it all, Tait saw to any need his parents, sisters, and son had that they could not meet for themselves. Tait was the man his father and grandfather taught him to be - a man who takes care of his own, protects his own, and provides for his own. Physical Giant, Retired NFL All-Pro, MD from Stanford – Tait really was an Alpha male force of nature. Given the man he was, as soon as he got a hint that his son may be in trouble, Tait dropped everything and flew to San Francisco. *** Kane and Lacey walked into Hog Island Oyster Company about ten minutes before the reservation time. When they approached the maitre’d desk and asked for the Holden reservation, he looked at them rather judgmentally, said they did not take reservations, and then asked them for identification. Once the asswipe was satisfied, he gave them one last sneer and invited them to follow. They were not prepared for where they were going. Apparently the restaurant did take reservations - for Tait Holden. They were escorted to an entire section of reserved outdoor patio seating. In front of them stretched one of the most panoramic views of the San Francisco bay and the bay bridge that anyone could take in. Before they took their seats, they went to the edge of the pier to take in the sight. Of course, for all except the maitre’d, there was another view most of the males had taken in as much as they could. Kane didn’t have to look around to sense the eyes locked onto them - well her. Lacey. Kane was accustomed to it by now. It was something similar to the reaction his father received from women, a reaction he knew he would see and hear again soon enough. Part of him rather enjoyed the looks of envy directed at him. And part of him felt insanely self-conscious and inadequate, as those same looks that were awed by Lacey judged him to be totally lacking compared to the woman on his arm. Lacey Masters had it all. She was a 27 year old drop-dead beauty. Daughter of a Bank of America executive. She had competed twice for Ms. California, and the only thing that truly held her back from winning the title was her 5’6” stature. Like his parents, Kane met Lacey at Stanford, where she had been a cheerleader. Of course, she was just as stunning back in college as now, which cowed Kane. But, he also felt more than a little intimidated by her intellect. She was no stereotypical empty airhead. Lacey was a brilliant financial mind. Even if she had not been a banker's daughter and born to the work, her skills at winning in the markets singled her out as being an up and comer in the corporate world. She worked for the investment firm Dodge and Cox as an analyst and personal portfolio manager, already bringing in a very solid quarter million dollar salary before bonuses each year. She also had a fantastic personal portfolio that seemed to grow whenever the stock market bell rang. In every way, she was the proverbial catch. Then, there was the man beside her. In a way that no one could actually put a finger on, Kane Holden just didn't seem to match up. It wasn’t that Kane was bad looking, True, Lacey was dressed in a fantastic dress and heels that made her stand a couple inches taller than Kane, who in bare feet stood exactly the same height as Lacey. True, his father had the chiseled, rugged good looks of romance and cowboy western novel cover models. But, Kane was not bad looking at all. His features were softer. Kinder. He was what most girls in high school and college described over and over as “cute” - at those moments when those same girls were alone comparing the guys around them. While Lacey was closer to a 10, Kane was more of a 7 or 8. But he was not ugly by any stretch. It wasn't that Kane was lacking in any sort of lack of physical fitness. Sure, Kane had gained about ten pounds since college, but that didn’t mean that he had a full out dad bod or anything. Sure, while Lacey had her beauty queen looks and religiously worked out with weights and yoga, Kane was not exactly a slouch. He had inherited the Holden family athletic gene and had been a 5 year wrestler at Stanford. And now, he was pursuing his other sporting gift - golf. Kane had taken up golf in high school after wrestling season and discovered he had quite a knack for it. With great coaching, Kane had capitalized on that talent, having managed to secure a spot on the PGA tour two years prior. No one in their right mind would claim that a Stanford wrestler and a professional golfer was not successful. It was just that Kane had inherited his mother’s height and weight rather than his father’s - as Kane wrestled at the 141 pound weight class. And unlike his father’s gargantuan, ripped muscles when he was in college sports, Kane was again softer - even when he was in wrestling shape. Kane had lithe muscles and a hint of abs under his shirt rather than the etched, deep 8-pack of his father. Kane had succeeded in wrestling and golf as a good tactician, with flexibility, speed, and technique as allies - the skills of a gymnast that he had inherited from his mother. He just didn’t have the overwhelming physical power combined with tactics that his father had - or that Lacey had in her own more feminine way. And while just becoming a Stanford wrestler and pro golfer was successful, he was middle of the road in both. He was good… good enough. But, he was never going to win the way his Dad and wife did. Kane’s personality didn’t quite match Lacey, that was true. They seemed to be from the “opposites that attract” spectrum rather than being “birds of a feather.” Kane was reserved and somewhat introverted compared to Lacey’s extroverted nature. With his father being away so much as a pro footballer and later medical school and residency, child Kane became a pure “mama’s boy.” Thus, he was crushed when his mother passed. Tait had been as well, but he had an adult perspective that the ten year old Kane did not. Tait had engaged the best therapy possible for his son, of course. And the giant man had been nothing but loving and gentle with his son, sensing his quiet, reserved nature. As Kane was treated by many others in his life. To a fair share of women, that vulnerable side was seen as an endearing quality, again something they called “cute.” But, to others, especially certain males in the elite circles of academics and athletics and later business, Kane was a tempting target to use and step on. Except none ever wanted to face the wrath of Tait Holden or later the corporate power of the Masters. So they left Kane alone - most of them. Looks, physique, mind, attitude, personality. It wasn’t any of these single characteristics that made Kane not match. It was all of these things taken together. Kane was the embodiment of “one of these things is not like the others.” He shouldn’t have been. But, he was. And something deep inside him knew it. It was a feeling people could sense radiating from him. Preoccupation. Tentativeness. Withdrawal. Inadequacy. Good enough. That was Kane in a nutshell - good enough. Good enough - but not great. In any other life Kane has success people only dreamed of. But compared to the others he loved, he was totally outshined; but, he was good enough. As he and Lacey waited for water to be brought to their table, Kane was being swallowed by “good enough.” Kane was cute, vulnerable, had a scrappy puppy quality, and Lacey had come to love him for that and more. But – Tait Holden. He knew Tait Holden was quantum leaps beyond any man Lacey had ever met. Though Lacey was certainly accustomed to getting attention and getting hit upon and being a very strong, dominant woman - she had never been exposed to the quality and quantity of Alpha male Tait Holden in person brought to the table. Kane had no idea how she would react. He knew Lacey loved him. Or it certainly felt like it. But, he knew how his Dad affected women. He had seen it all his life. He knew Tait was no predator. He was no so called “Chad.” He never set out to seduce women. In fact, Tait had always been loyal and honorable toward his mother and any other woman as far as he knew. Stealing a woman away from another was just anathema to him. Before or after Jess death, he had never been part of the underground or above ground athlete culture for women and parties and sex. Tait considered that to be beneath him or any proper man. He had taught Kane that. And - Kane knew he carried the pain every widowed person did. He had seen it when his father had visited his mother’s grave. He still loved HER, even now. Kane thought maybe that was why he was still single. And yet… Kane knew what was coming, and it always inspired a feeling - dread. Kane felt awful about that. He felt so conflicted that he both loved and dreaded his father. His father was just… his father. No bravado, no pretend machismo, nothing at all unnatural for him. Tait was nothing but the archetypal Real Man, in every positive way. Tait had done nothing on purpose to inspire such dread in Kane. Yet, it was there, rolling in him - the feeling of being good enough under the glare of greatness. Then, there was another feeling the son had about his father - a wrong feeling Kane thought. The feeling had no name that Kane could attach to it. He buried it as much as he could as he was afraid of it. He avoided his father because of it. But that day at the gym a few months ago - that other man made him truly feel it for the first time. Kane didn’t want to relive those moments, but he did in a flash. And the feelings that burst out hit him, making his thoughts spin - worse than they already were. How would Lacey react? What would she do? What would he do? Why did he feel this way? He didn’t know if these feelings around - well THEM who Tait may as well have been the leader of - was a part of him that was alpha like his father that he was uncomfortable expressing for where it could lead. He didn’t know if it was admiration or desire or hero worship or… A longing to be like his father or not like his father. It just had no name. It was like – Kane was brought back to the real world and away from the whirlwind of his thoughts by an audible gasp and rustle that went through the entire restaurant. Again, Kane instinctively knew what it was. Who it was. Again, he didn't have to look up to know what had happened to generate that response. But, just like gravity around a black hole, Kane was drawn in and turned to see. Kane’s first thought was that his father looked bigger than he remembered, if such a thing were possible. Tait towered at least a full head over… Well, everyone there. That was normal for a man who was 6’9” outside of a basketball team locker room, but it wasn't just his height. Kane could have sworn that his father was physically wider and more thickly muscled than even during his playing days. Maybe it was just his clothes, Kane reasoned. Tait was dressed in all black - black polo shirt, black slacks and leather belt, black leather dress boots. The height of simplicity. Thing was the way these clothes looked. Every stitch Tait wore was custom tailored. His clothes fit so precisely as to highlight every muscle to the hilt. His massive pecs were totally outlined, his quad development shown through his trousers, an impossibly deep v-taper from shoulders down to his waist, even some of the thicker veins were visible through the cloth. Yet, none of the clothing was so tight as to look like Tait had deliberately done it. They simultaneously looked painted on but loose and comfortable in the way only superbly custom-made clothing can. It wasn’t a matter of Tait showing his wealth or station in life or even simply vanity however. Fact was - no one made off-the-shelf clothing for someone like Tait. Simply finding pants long enough was often difficult, much less pants that could house his monstrous quads and calves. Finding size 18 shoes anywhere in any style at all was nearly impossible. Tait had needed custom clothes as long as Kane could remember. Kane heard another sharp intake of breath - this time from directly behind him. He turned to see Lacey with her mouth agape in shock. “Kane,” she barely whispered, “is… is that-” “Ya, that's Dad.” Kane replied. “Told you. Dad is a bit… different.” Lacey had seen plenty of well built, muscular, handsome men in her years. Plenty of very tall men when she cheered for Stanford basketball. Plenty of so-called Alpha males on the field and at parties and in the halls of power. But Tait - she was just floored, stunned, speechless. He was the biggest man she had ever seen. The sheer size of him. He looked like he could make up three ordinary sized men. And, if she were honest - his sheer sexiness was astonishing. His height, his classic chiseled looks, his commanding vibe. All those things she knew in scattered pieces in other men - but in Tait all combined and magnified in one. She had not even spoken to him yet, but everything about him screamed that this was a man among men. Lacey felt her crotch tingle involuntarily. An animal desire from within her. She couldn’t help it. And she wasn't alone. Every woman in the restaurant was having the same reaction. They all felt the… whatever it is that women feel in the presence of a proverbial apex alpha male. And the men - they all felt what they had in their own package either flex with the same desire or shrivel as it was obvious they were totally outclassed. As the young couple watched, Tait looked down upon the maitre'd - who came no taller than his upper pecs - and spoke to him. They could not hear what was said, but they could see the person who had been more than a bit snobbish and prickish to them physically wilt. Kane noted that the same man who asked them for their identification didn’t ask Tait for the same as he fumbled over himself. At that moment, Tait saw Kane and Lacey in the distance. He said something to the maitre’d and then just walked past him as if he no longer existed. Tait walked through the lunch time crowd like Morpheus in The Matrix. Totally direct and purposeful, yet strolling through the sea of people as if they didn’t exist. All while the maitre’d looked as if he were physically drained - perhaps like Moses after seeing the Burning Bush. As soon as Tait came through the patio doors into the open air, he looked to Kane and said heartfully, “How are you, Son?” Father and son began to walk toward each other. Lacey stood, frozen, watching. Her shock and nervousness only grew as the great man approached. It did not escape her that Tait seemed to cover the same distance that took Kane ten steps in five. The giant reached out and took his flesh and blood by the hand in a massive enveloping handshake and then pulled him into a hug. Lacey thought she could hear Kane reply, but it was lost somewhere in Tait's lower chest muscles - where Kane's head landed upon the man who had 15 inches of height on him. But - that didn't matter to her… yet. That voice - Tait’s deep, smooth, confident voice. Tait sounded like a combination of the bass of Vin Diesel and the smoothness of Lawrence Fishburne. So strong and confident, yet so soothing. That voice could crush an ego or inspire armies or wrap you in curtains of safety and security, depending on how he used it. She understood in a moment why Tait was so effective as a psychiatrist or as a team leader before that. That voice attached to that man could make you want to tell every secret you had and love doing it. She felt herself become even more aroused hearing him. She started to understand what Kane had meant about gravity. She felt pulled toward him, like a moth to a flame. The perfect voice, the perfect height, the perfect muscle, the perfect attitude - she just couldn't help it. He was so much more than Kane’s description could ever hope to convey. She noticed something else in that moment of embrace. Kane. Though they seemed so different - and they were very different - she could see so much of the son in his father and so much of the father in the son. Kane’s voice was baritone rather than bass, not quite as silky smooth and confident. But she could hear so many similarities. Kane had a quiet strength about his voice, much as the magnified version in Tait. There had been more than a few nights when she had become lost in Kane’s voice. Kane’s face and physical features were so different from Tait's - yet there was no question they were father and son. Kane was what Tait would have been if he were more of the non-descript power behind the throne type. A very different type of masculine power; yet it was there. So different - yet so similar. That similarity to Tait made Lacey desire Kane more too. She watched as Tait released Kane and together they approached the table where she was. Kane - she felt ashamed for her reaction to Tait. She loved Kane. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Kane. Why was she so pulled into wanting Tait to f– She crushed that thought. “And you must be Lacey. It is cliche but Kane has told me so much about you,” she heard as her vision became blocked by a man mountain. Lacey looked up and UP. She felt like she was a little girl again standing in front of her father as Tait held out a wide hand. She extended her own hand and Tait took it. “Dad, this is my fiancé Lacey Masters. Lacey, please meet my Dad, Tait Holden.” Kane introduced. Tait’s voice seemed to wrap the young woman in velvet smoothness. “An absolute pleasure to finally meet the girl my son was lucky enough to catch… or was it entrap?” Tait cracked a mischievous smile with just the hint of a complement toward her and the good natured rib at his son. Kane's cheeks flashed an inordinate amount of red in embarrassment. Lacey giggled. Fuck that smile is like liquid sex. What is it like to kiss–, she thought. “He didn't trap me.” She replied then added almost as an afterthought. “Well… maybe he did, but it's a trap I enjoyed falling into. The pleasure is mine, Doctor Holden.” Tait turned to his son for a moment. “Kane, you didn’t tell me you had found such a keeper of a girl. Better hold tight.” He flashed a smile again before he turned again to Lacy. “Tait, please. You’re not a client in my office, and I still have enough of the ranch in me to hate formality from my family - or close enough to family. Of course, there is one exception I make to formal custom - one I always liked with a beautiful young woman.” Tait’s voice dropped slightly, becoming almost intimate. “‘Enchanté, Mademoiselle.’” In a practiced motion mastered through thousands of repetitions, Tait raised her arm while simultaneously bowing himself and kissed her hand. Lacey shivered. Her panties very nearly became wet in desire. Tait was so big he could totally close her from the outside world if he embraced her. She could tell from the thick, weight lifter built muscles of his hand that he was strong enough to lift her to the ceiling with one arm with no effort at all. She imagined Tait in the gym putting dumbbells more than her body weight easily over his head. Her eyes wandered up his thick corded forearms that radiating raw, crushing power, and, Jesus Christ, that bulging biceps even partly under the sleeve. What must that feel like to… “That’s my Dad, just a smooth-talking, muscle-bound Cassinova.” Kane quipped. Leave it to Kane to ruin the moment, Lacey thought. She almost snapped at him for his rudeness, but was stopped by a good natured chuckle from Tait. Lacey could not tell if the laugh was a “touché” recognition of his son’s verbal jab - or an Alpha male’s amusement at a lesser being trying to stand up to someone far beyond him. Maybe it was both she thought. “Maybe so, Son. I admit to being a softy sometimes under it all. I suppose Kane learned how to trap good women from me.” Tait pointed his free hand toward Lacey’s seat. “May I?” Lacey smiled even more as she gave her ascent. Tait lowered her hand and held it as he escorted her back to her seat. As he led her, she tried to hide the fact that she was shaking at his touch. She understood intellectually that Tait was just showing proper manners. But her body didn’t want to believe it. And… she failed. Tait felt her response and suppressed a knowing smile. As Lacey thought, he wasn’t purposefully trying to do anything. It was just that he had seen this so often that he couldn't help but feel a bit of amusement. Years ago, Jess’s mother told him that common courtesy from him could be misinterpreted by many women because of the masculinity and power he conveyed. So, Tait was very cognizant of where to draw lines with most women. She was family so he would allow more than with most women. But the lines were still there with a woman so much his junior - no matter how much closer to her age his looks made him. Still, very first impressions of Lacey Masters - he liked this girl. Kane - he noticed her response too. Like his father, he had seen this so many times over the years. It was what he knew would happen and was afraid would grow. He hoped this would end when Lacey became more familiar with his father’s presence. The way his mother or grandma or aunts were around his father. They would just laugh at it when they felt it and give their men a smooch. Still he felt a jab of familiar jealousy - no woman had ever responded to a simple display of manners from him like that, much less his own fiancé . Maybe she had never responded like that to anything he had ever done. No matter how intimate. Even in… Kane’s feelings of inadequacy grew even more. And with it his internal conflict expanded. After Lacey was seated, Tait moved to the side and took the only other available seat at the table… Next to the young woman. Kane mentally kicked himself. He had unconsciously upped the level of temptation. He had chosen to sit opposite of Lacey facing her across the table out of habit - the way they always sat when going out. Tait hadn't thought anything about it. He simply slid into where he thought he should sit - within inches of Lacey. It was innocent. Anyone would sit in the only available chair… but now Kane felt even more uncomfortable. Seeing them like this, side by side - it was oddly striking. They sort of matched, like his mother. They looked so–. Awkward silence again took over, but after a few moments, Tait broke the ice. Again, he directed to Lacey. “I suppose this is when we begin the awkward small talk you do when you're meeting the in-laws? I remember mine. Maybe I should just tell some embarrassing childhood stories on Kane like any parent does when meeting their kids’ sweetheart.” Tait flashed his million dollar smile signaling the humor, which made Kane blush again - hoping against hope his Dad wasn't going to actually do that. Tait and Lacey couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It was indeed the perfect thing to break the ice. But her laugh was almost like a schoolgirl enamored of the hot new guy. Of course, she was nervous meeting Tait but - that laugh. It was more than nerves. Without realizing - in a half flirtatious way, her hand moved to Tait's forearm…This time, she was definitely wet. Thank fuck what she was wearing would never let on to her condition. But she felt it. Her biology betrayed her - and what she felt. Crazy, hard muscle. Veins. What about other veins lower down. And his skin - it was an odd juxtaposition of thick and thin, hard and supple - like a weightlifter. Like a strong man. A bodybuilder. Her fingers lingered as she felt movement - the small and large ripples of individual cords of muscle, each of which had to be bigger than Kane's whole forearm. She kept feeling as she caught the scent of Tait's heady musk, a clean but utterly masculine scent - sandalwood and leather and cigar and pheromones and the primitive primate part of her brain responded. Involuntarily, she drew in a breath. That breath - damnit, had she been caught? Lacey’s cheeks flushed and she dropped her hand, though she didn't want to. She was feeling up to her beau’s father. That was awful, but… I have to be good, she thought. She truly believed she was being totally proper now not feeling Tait’s arm - it never reached her consciousness that her hand had just dropped only to come to rest on Tait’s massive quad. The entire previous exchange felt like minutes, but in reality it was just a second or two. Lacey continued, “I hope it's not too awkward.” Her answer was both a proper answer and a Freudian slip. “I make no promises that I won't mess up. But, I'll try my best,” Tait said to both of them, feigning innocence. Tait knew her hand was on his quad… but drew no attention to it. Kane jumped in. “Speaking of awkward - you're looking… BIG, Dad.” Now it was Tait's turn to flash the slightest of emotion - Pride. There was always something special when your kid noticed that you were reaching your goals. “I thought you'd quit working out as much with the Draft interview schedule keeping you so busy.” “I'm glad you noticed, Son. Been working hard the last while even with the schedule. Some OK results for not enough sleep and depending on the team catering crews to give me healthy food, if not exactly geared for me. But, I do want to get bigger.” “Bigger?!?” both twenty-somethings said incredulously in unison. Tait felt Lacey’s hand begin to squeeze his quad. Then move to squeeze another spot. It was a bit of a thrill to feel that a grown woman’s hand - petite though she was - could not even span the single femoral head of his right quad. Just one of the four main groups - wider than the length of her hand from her fingers to wrist. She was looking for weakness. She would not find it. Lacey - she was indeed feeling his leg, trying to figure out what bigger meant. She decided there was no way. How could there be - he was so big already. So totally hard. He had to be immensely strong. Everywhere she felt - nothing but rock hard muscle. It couldn’t get any bigger. Tait could not help but to feed on their stunned energy, particularly Lacey. He found a strange sort of enjoyment at the prospect of showing off for his family and pushing them into disbelief. He decided to go with the flow. He opened a light version of a jock smirk to their reaction. “ “But you're already so BIG?!?” Lacey finally said. Tait held out his right forearm and biceps and began to tense and relax them in view of the kids. It was not a full out flex at all - more of just moving his fingers and wrist making the muscles twist and dance. As he did so, the cords of thick muscle and veins exploded and the promise of a truly monumental biceps mountain hinted it was alive under the black polo sleeve. “I'm certainly trying. It was my New Year’s resolution, so to speak. Maybe it's just an old man's vanity trying to keep up with all these NFL prospects I work with who are even younger than you two. It’s fun to still be able to out work and out lift them, I have to admit. “I turn 45 in a few months, and it is more than fun to see them - please do not take offense Kane, Lacey - but it is more than fun to see them have the same reaction you two are having right now when I get a good pump. I am going for conditioning too, not just size. You know someone my size can put on a lot of muscle AND fat just by existing and eating enough. But I want to carve up the size I am putting on. Be lean and cut as well as bigger. Actually, I am aiming to be better than I ever was when I did the pin up calendars when I played in the league. One last time and hold onto it as long as time and age will let me.” Lacey’s hand groped even more at hearing that. If you looked closely, her eyes dilated. Her cheeks flushed. Her breathing had become a bit faster. More shallow. “Dr. Hold – Tait,” Lacey corrected. “Almost 45?!? You don't look a day over 30.” Kane groaned inwardly. His anger had been growing the entire exchange. He was going to let it all go as a natural reaction that Lacey couldn’t help. His father’s gravity. That it would go away. But that level of blatant hitting on another man right in front of him was uncalled for. It was as clumsy and in his face as if she were still a teenage girl getting attention from the hot jock. Right down to the giggles. He could see Lacey fucking groping his leg and just dying to touch even more – Kane almost said something when Tait stepped in. He deftly slid his own palm over top of Lacey’s hand and pressed down. He stopped her moving. Still feeling him of course, but she was no longer exploring. “Thanks for the flattery. You're too kind. But let's be honest. The gray hair is coming out a lot more than it used to be. I still recover from a workout very fast compared to someone else my age, but not like I did five years ago. We all lose our battle with time. So, you two should enjoy every moment. I have no regrets except…” Tait stopped for a moment. Kane could see a flash across his face of the love his father had for his mother. Tait would never allow himself to break down in public. But that reaction to a thought of his mother was enough to break Kane's anger. “Except for perhaps one. And, frankly, you remind me a bit of her, Lacey.” Tait took a breath to center himself and then he continued, “I've lived life the best I could. And still try. That's why I'm doing this. To live life the best I can before I can’t. I want the same for you two. No matter what that means and where it takes you both. Be who you are and live life to the fullest.” Lacey stopped her attempts at feeling, leaving her hand resting on his quad, but followed up, curiously. “Living our best lives is one thing, but… a pin up calendar?” Tait laughed deeply. “Ya. One of the bright ideas of the League.” Tait said sarcastically, clearly amused at the thought. “They were trying to get more female fans. So their solution was to have those of us who were particularly good looking or at least had good abs that they could airbrush pose for these pin up calendars. Guys of the Gridiron, or something just as cringeworthy, haha. “Never did a thing to get more women fans of the game as far as I know. We just became a little bit of - well - fantasy material for some women and a few guys I guess.” Tait chucked again. “But I did a few calendars to raise money for charity while I was playing. Like, the ones that raise money for animal shelters - what do they call them now “Bullies and Biceps” or “Hunks and Hounds–” Tait laughed again. “I was there with all these fitness models and bodybuilders. A fish out of water as a pro football player with these little pin up dudes. Anyway, they raised some money for good causes. That I am happy to have done. You might even be able to find some of me when I was Kane's age showing off my assets.” “But ya, I want to get truly massive if I can... in fact, I'm working out at the 49ers facility while I am here to stick to the goal. Do that at every team facility when I have to go to in-person interviews. You're both welcome to come if you like. I'm sure the team wouldn't mind.” Tait smiled. “Really,” Lacey said, clearly excited to see Tait in something a bit more revealing than proper clothing. Now it was Tait’s turn. He knew what she was thinking and slightly rubbed Lacey’s hand on his quad. It was imperceptible to anyone visually. But Lacey felt it. “Of course. As often as you like.” He looked at Kane. “Both of you. I’ve never done a workout with you, Son. That would be amazing if we could. I can even try and set up something permanent if you both want.” Feeling Tait’s touch, seeing what she saw, hearing Tait’s invitation to the gym. Lacey just couldn't resist anymore. It was so cliche - but cliche’s work because they are so often real. “Tait - would it be OK if I… if I… see your-” she stumbled over herself, a ball of hormones and nerves. Kane finally snapped. He had endured so much these last few minutes. And this was the last straw. “Lacey, get hold of yourself. This is embarrassing. You wanna date my Dad or something. You sure as hell are feeling him up. Maybe it is just better if I leave you two to it - fuck…” Kane stood to leave, when both Tait and Lacey said, “ Kane, WAIT–” Both immediately withdrew their hands from each other. And as they did Lacey realized just where her hands were. What she was doing… Fuck. Kane was right. She had been flirting with Tait this whole time. She'd been touching him since he had sat in his chair. She just… couldn't help it. Tait was so different and dominant compared to every man she had ever seen, she just felt compelled. Tait was just too powerful a presence for her instincts. She did it even though she intellectually didn't want to. And she had offended the man she loved. Lacey was about to say something when Tait again intervened, again saving the young people. “I'm sorry son. I shouldn't have allowed the conversation to go that way. And I should have stopped anything that crossed any boundaries that you both have. It is not Lacey’s fault. It is mine. You can remember how many people asked me to flex for them or take pics with them when you were a kid. It bothered your mother until she came to understand that it is nothing more than a compliment and I never would dishonor another person or myself by crossing a boundary. She even came to laugh at it. I'm sorry if I have violated any boundary between you two. Can you forgive me?” Tait’s statement about his mother brought back a flood of memories. Indeed he could remember so many times as a kid when people would ask his father to flex or ask for photos… And they'd try to feel his arm. Doing it for kids was one thing but he also remembered the women. So many women. He also remembered his parents laughing and joking after. He always thought it was his Dad being a player - and not the football kind. But now he remembered conversations. Laughing about some reaction. They never made sense to his child’s brain… Until now. “I… I guess so Dad. I didn't remember until now but she and grandma used to laugh about it. She thought you being a hunk was great fun. I… Just…” “No son. I understand. Your mother was one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. I was quite protective of her if you remember. Like I said, Lacey reminds me of her a bit. More than I think you can know. So maybe it is a bit of nostalgia too, no offense intended to Lacey. It is a GREAT compliment. But perhaps I became too familiar out of habit.” “I get it Dad. And I'm sorry. Both of you.” Tait then smiled. “OK, now if it is not violating any boundary and in the spirit we just talked about. If you're OK Kane and Lacey I'm happy to satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and flex for her. You haven't seen the truly bigger me either. And then we will laugh about it. I mean I'm not in the habit of flexing in a Michelin star restaurant. A different kind of beef than what is on the surf and turf? We can satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and I doubt she will ever ask anyone again as I doubt she will ever see any bigger…” Tait smiled broadly - a smile that could melt glaciers. Lacey said, “Kane, please. Really, I am just curious. That's all.” “Alright. Alright. Go ahead. I suppose you will always wonder until you see it. And I have to admit I am a little curious myself. You’re bigger than I ever remember you being, Dad.” Kane said in surrender - and it was true that he was curious. He didn't want to admit it and it was for a very different reason… but he wanted to see his dad flex too. “Well then kiddo, I'll give you a dose of the cannons to feel later.” Tait laughed deeply. “In the meantime, Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Tait bent down in his chair a bit to not draw quite as much attention as a full out flex would do. He held his arm down to be within easy reach and then curled his monster forearm and fist around and up. The muscles of the upper arm rose and Rose and ROSE. Tait smiled as the gigantic muscle took full form. Even Kane in disbelief said, “Christ, Dad.” Tait’s arm was the diameter of a volleyball. A tremendously shaped, peaked mountain exploded out, covered with several thick and thin veins across its surface. The thick/thin skin Lacey noted earlier traced out many striations and a well-developed cleft between the heads of the muscle. The well-made polo covering it made a creaking sound, as the stitching of the custom made shirt was stretched to the limit before Tait rolled the sleeve back to afford a full view of the monster ball and the massive hanging horseshoe beneath the dome. Tait pumped it out and in a couple times. “Thanks Son. It is better with a pump, being honest, but it’s still pretty good. Go ahead Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Lacey’s trembling hands - both of them - reached over and tried to wrap around Tait’s arm. She failed hardcore with many inches between the hand on the bottom and the hand on the top. In fact, her top hand could not even cover half of the biceps mountain. “Oh my GOD.” she said. She tried to squeeze it, but she had no ability to move it at all. It felt like a warm bronze statue in the summer. The flesh was unyielding to her at all. Yet - she felt it move, but only at Tait’s whim. Tait smiled more broadly as he saw her reaction. She moved her hands, trying to feel any soft spot, any weakness, any spot at all that felt like flesh and not rock. There was none. “Oh my God, Tait, Kane, it is SO BIG and HARD. I mean you had hard muscles when we were in school but nothing like this. Tait, you must be the strongest person ever in the gym. Jeez.” “Go ahead and hit it a bit if you want. It’s the same.” Lacey obeyed, fawning as her slight pops became harder and harder into slaps and then into punches. For a girl, Lacey was very strong and fit and knew how to throw a punch from her classes at the gym, Yet all she felt was a sting in her own hand as hit after hit did nothing but make Tait smile at her. “Fuck.” She said under her breath. “I don’t think I could make a dent in this with a baseball bat, Kane. It’s like all the muscle on your whole body is in this one arm. Your muscles have never felt like this. Your muscles are nothing like this. I bet if he squeezed you he could crush you. Wow.” She said under her breath. Tait laughed, “I take it you approve.” “It is the most manly muscle I have ever, ever felt. You’re right Tait. I never need to feel another muscle on a guy again. No one else will ever measure up. I can’t wait to see you put these football guys to shame in the 49ers gym. Can we go Kane, please. I really want to see Tait embarrass a few of those fucks I remember from school.” Tait was still flexing for Lacey, Lacey still feeling, and Kane … Kane still in utter awe. Kane would have felt offended that Lacey flatly said that she would never want to feel his body again after feeling his Dad’s but - he couldn’t. He had hugged his Dad earlier. He had felt his Dad’s body. And seeing this… he wondered if Lacey’s comment wasn’t true. He certainly could never build what his Dad had. He wished he could. He wished he could do ANYTHING to come even close to that. But he had no idea how. And Kane felt… something. Something like gravity. A pull toward SOMETHING... Kane never betrayed the gravity he felt toward his father’s muscle display. “I guess Lacey, if you want and if you are sure, Dad. I’ll go.” “Absolutely. I’ll call Roger Goodell and make it happen if I have to. He owes me a favor anyway. And… thanks for indulging and letting me show off just a bit Matty.” Kane groaned and Lacey looked up at Tait, even as he pumped his arm a few more times under her roaming hands. "Who is Matty?" Kane just looked down, his whole body seemingly turning red in embarrassment. Kane sighed. "Me. That’s what mom and dad called me as a kid. I went by Matt everywhere else except my family called me Matty - until I started using my middle name Kane in college. Guys back on the high school wrestling team heard Dad call me Matty, and the name stuck like glue." Tait looked a bit sheepish. "Damn, son. I’m sorry. There I go telling old men stories. It's just one of those old habits. I know how you feel about Matty." Lacey smiled and chuckled. “I, however, just got a little bit of leverage in the war between the sexes.” In a tremendously cheeky bold move, Lacey bent over and planted a small peck kiss on Tait’s still flexed biceps - the only part of him she could reach as big as he was. “Thank you, Tait. I may have to use it sometime… Matty.” Tait laughed hard and Kane turned redder still. It was really one of those classic parent stories they tell on their kids but… there was something in Lacey’s eyes, on her face. Something. And then it was gone. Tait spoke up. “At least if I do it now, Kane, I won’t get in as much trouble. But I will try to keep that as private as possible. Anyway, It will be a pleasure to show off for you both. It has been a while since someone appreciated what I do with the players – and to the players.” Tait laughed as he slowly lowered his arm. Lacey’s hands hung in mid air for a few moments before she lowered them. She loved Matty… rather Kane like her life depended on it, but… She just HAD to feel that arm again - HAD TO - when she could tell Tait what she really thought - alone when Kane would not hear. HAD TO before Tait left again for New York. “What do you mean Tait,” Lacey said shakily. “What do you do to players?” Tait smiled. "You both were athletes at Stanford. Imagine someone like Christian McCaffrey being told he has to be interviewed by an NFL staff psychiatrist for potential draft teams. He is expecting some short fat dork who has never even taken an elementary school flag football snap to walk in. How do those athletes react when they see me come in and the first thing I do is ask them to do is to take me through their daily workout... and the dork doc beats their ass in every lift." Kane said in a not exactly joking manner after the name “Matty” came out, "Dad has always liked to lord his abilities over other players." Tait looked at them both. "No, it's not that at all. Yes, keeping up with them or beating them in the gym is an ego boost to me, and it hits their ego. But it also serves a purpose in my psychological evaluation of them. “As a rookie in the League, no matter who you are or how good a college player you are, being new in the League, in practice and games and the locker room, you face being physically out-performed and bullied a bit by teammates and rival players. We are all paid professionals, but it is testosterone-fueled men and there is a pecking order and can be pissing wars and dick length contests, at least metaphorically. It is part of tradition, and playing with the best players in the world. Some say I am in the running for the greatest tight end of all time, and it happened to me. I remember getting my bell rung once like I was Big Ben in my first game with Charles Woodsen. Once I got accustomed to the League, half the time some corner in the secondary tried to make a tackle on me and they just bounced off. But that first year or two, I still got flattened more than once and reamed by the locker room and the coaches for it. “By me being a doctor and a retiree and still beating their lifts, I get to see in a small way how they will deal with adjustment to the League psychologically. Can they roll with it and adapt to not being Big Man on Campus anymore and be willing to learn or do they fold and wash out? It's important to see how they will react when I trash talk them a bit, since that will show me how they will take that trash talk in the locker room or that coach ripping them a new asshole for missing an assignment. They also tend to open up to me.a lot more after seeing proof that I really did play in the League. That, though I'm a doc now, I still know the NFL on the field and in the locker room - and could maybe still play if I wanted. That confidence and trust in me is important to get to their true feelings and attitudes and how those will gel with the various clubs and team cultures around the League." Lacey was utterly enchanted getting to hear some of Tait’s intellect and mental prowess at work. But even Kane understood, maybe for the first time in his life, that what he so often saw out of his dad wasn't just being a jock. He remembered what it was like to be called Matty by his teammates. How he sometimes felt belittled by it. Like a tiny boy when he would lose some practice matches or get out worked in the gym or starving to come in on weight. It gnawed at him so much so he changed his name. And the locker room at Stanford was even harder… he could nigh imagine what being a rookie in the NFL was like. The millions spent on one person - if they crumbled like he had crumbled at this lunch seeing so many innocent things as an attack. He understood. It made sense. Tait was doing them a favor by out performing them. Kane knew - he would do the same thing himself for the same reason if he had his Dad’s ability and prowess. Kane’s respect for his Dad expanded at that moment - he was more of a proper man than even he understood. The gravity toward his father increased… “What else do you do for the NFL?” Lacey asked… And so it went as the trio had a wonderful lunch. Lacey drove the conversation, pressing for more and more information about Tait. Tait, happily engaging and observing. And through the entire lunch, Lacey’s hand - whenever she could - touching and feeling Tait’s hard muscles when she thought Kane wouldn’t notice. Tait, having been told that it was no longer crossing a boundary, allowing Lacey to explore to a point. And Kane - gaining more and more appreciation and admiration. Kane’s resistance to the force that pulled him toward his dad slowly collapsing. Kane’s ability to resist his father in anything - slowly crumbling. The feeling… disturbing feeling, slowly increasing. The conflict that had slapped him in the face with the force of a steel chain to the mouth - slowly growing. But, finally, as it always does, the lunch came to an end. After Tait took care of the bill, the three of them walked through the door, and then stood outside. Tait first embraced his son. “I will be in town all week, son. I want to see you again, anytime I can. If not before the trip to the gym, then how about after that. I would really like a little father-son time if that is OK.” Tait then made his son look up as he looked down into the softer male face. “Maybe lunch or dinner, just you and me.” Tait’s tone was obvious - a time when Lacey was not there and when Kane would be a lot less defensive. And Kane could talk openly. Kane thought for a minute and nodded yes. He had never truly been able to say no to his Dad for long. He had never seen anyone who had truly been able to say no to Tait Holden. Then Tait turned to Lacey. “And you, young lady. Thank you for the wonderful meal and wonderful conversation. And I can’t wait to get to know you better as well.” “I can’t wait either, Tait.” Lacey said. The giant embraced the beauty queen, and the beauty queen returned the hug. Tait noticed something that no one could ever see given his size. Lacey - sure, she was hugging him. A hug that was a little too tight, a little too close, hands moving a little too much. She was feeling more than just his muscle again. She was leaning into him, like trying to draw strength from him. For what purpose unless it was – Tait felt her small hand slide just down just a bit. Too far down. The hand went over his hard glute cheek. Feeling, exploring. Kane could not see what she was doing given his massive frame. Tait did what he had done all night, only this time half out of reflex and half out of showing off. He flexed his glutes under her hand. The hand found them particularly impenetrable, as she traced lines until she found the entrance to one of his back pants pockets. The hand slid inside. Tait felt something… and then the hand withdrew and slid back up onto his low back. She pulled back, looked up, and gave Tait a strange, knowing glance. She then took Kane’s hand as if nothing had happened. As the three left the restaurant and Tait started for his car, Lacey could not help looking at Tait’s huge size 18 boots. She happened to wonder for a moment if the old saying was true, as she glanced down to Kane’s size 7 shoes… *** Tait got to the passenger door of the 49er’s team car and opened it. It was only then that he reached his hand into his back pants pocket. His fingers discovered a folded piece of paper. He withdrew it and opened it. Written there was a note - when had she had a chance to write this? - Was her hand feeling his leg, trying to get to a front pocket but was unable? Either way, she was good. Very good. “Tait - Please contact me ASAP. I need to see you again urgently. But text only. 123-555-1212. Please do not call. And PLEASE - Don't tell Kane. - Lacey” ***
  2. mmvmgo2011

    Vaccinated - A Continuation

    Hi all. Been offline for WAY too long now. I hopefully have a bit of spare time again, so I’ve revisited some of the characters and continuing Vaccinated. (And, yes, I have other stories on the go - haven't forgotten.) If you haven’t read it, you’ll almost certainly get more out of this one if you read that one first. A refresher might be helpful too, as there will probably be lots of callbacks and interwoven story lines. Obviously heavy spoilers here if you haven’t yet read the first one. Consider this a continuation following on immediately from the events in the first story, before the Epilogue. Events here may or may not progress matters to the same point in that Epilogue - so a sort of alternate history. Hope you enjoy. As before, I only have a vague outline of a story - I’m making the rest of it up as I go along, so fair warning, the story could include almost anything. If you’re easily offended or triggered, then maybe avoid this one. I welcome any feedback and will work in any suggestions you might have as it goes along. Delivery will likely be a fair bit slower than in the past, but I’ll try my best to keep chapters coming in on the regular. ~~ONE~~ Jake’s timing was exquisite; perfection. He could feel the crescendo, the approaching tsunami about to break, and he wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to experience the pleasure his partner’s ejaculation was about to unleash on his dick. Undulating, peristaltic waves of muscular contractions milking his shaft, coaxing the breeding load from deep within his heaving, roiling balls. Jake’s cock fully plugged the tunnel, his cock’s sensitivity heightened by the tight embrace along the entire shaft from tip to pubic bone. He pulled back slowly, deliberately, the head of his massive cock raking against the tunnel’s walls, tweaking the prostate, eliciting a deep, resonant growl in his partner that vibrated throughout his entire body, increasing the sensations and bringing the coming flood to the brink. He stopped as the head reached the opening, enjoying the feeling of the ring of muscle quivering against his fraenulum, his partner’s growl increasing. Jake’s heavy, pendulous balls seethed, ready to unleash their prodigious load. Squatting slightly, he adjusted the angle of his cock so the head would smash his partner’s prostate as he rammed in all fourteen inches down to the pubic bone. The separate muscles of his massive quads stood out in stark relief, vascularity pulsating and engorged, the massive root running along his inner thigh branching out to feed power to every muscle. He flexed his cock, watching, enraptured, as it swelled even bigger, became even harder, the veins flooding it with blood, steeling the shaft and sending bolts of exquisite pleasure spreading throughout his godly body. Jake’s core tightened, the globes of his perfect arse contracting and squeezing as he slammed his cock in as far as it would go, and then further. As he smashed past the prostate, the tsunami was triggered. It was Jake’s turn to groan, as his partner’s orgasm and ejaculation began, massive waves spreading up his shaft, tingling, more bolts of electric pleasure sending him wild. As Jake slammed in as far as it would go, his balls slapped into his partner’s arse, his orgasm contracting and pulsating muscles throughout his pelvic floor. The hole clamped shut around the base of Jake’s shaft, a natural cock ring further swelling and hardening the already diamond-hard cock. As it swelled, his massive cock pushed harder against the walls of the tunnel, increasing the strength of the muscular contractions as it struggled to contain and eject the monster invading its depths. Jake’s eyes rolled back as his partner’s cock pumped out splashes of thick, creamy cum. As the first few arcs of cum splattered against his partner’s pecs and abs, a large glob settling in his thick, dark beard, Jake allowed himself to ejaculate, his own muscular contractions mingling with those of his partner, heightening their ecstasy. Jake’s balls, so eager to unleash their load, rose up, and his cock somehow swelled and hardened even more as his ejaculation began. The pressure exerted along the length of his cock, and especially by the ring of muscles clamped around the base of his shaft made it more difficult for his cum to make it through all fourteen inches, causing high pressure spurting jets of cum to spray deep within, the massive load contained by the swollen head plugging the tunnel. Even as they both continued ejaculating, Jake leaned in for a deep, passionate kiss, the taste of cum on his lips adding to his explosive wave of orgasms. *** “Get out,” Jake said, as he stood up and went to shower. “Fuck, mate,” he breathed heavily, still recovering from the orgasm, “you were mind blowi–” “I said, get out.” He didn’t even turn back. “Can I at least get your number? I don’t even know your name…” He trailed off, distracted by the incredible view of Jake’s naked body walking to the en suite. The X shape, his glorious arse cheeks, sitting atop massive ham-hock hamstrings, the sweep of his quads visible even from behind, his back muscles mounding and rippling as he walked, roadmap veins - everywhere he looked, splendour upon perfection. Jake ignored him. The cumrag, having served his purpose, already forgotten. Despite his swelling dick - how could you not get hard at that view, he thought? - he hurriedly dressed, the cum covering his abs and chest already drying, sticking to his shirt, and left. **** Brad, Amber and HE were sitting in Brad’s living room, regrouping and discussing the recent events and the fallout. “Can you still sense him?” Amber asked. They all knew which 'him' she was referring to. “Yes…” He hesitated, “…he’s having sex.” It was a very odd sensation, having his best friend’s subconscious as a stream in part of his brain. Despite everything, Amber and HE both blushed. Amber, in particular, was still trying to process her feelings about Jake. She could not let go of the fact that they meshed perfectly, their sex on a level she had never, and almost certainly would never, experience again. But, equally, she could not forget his treatment of her. His callous disregard, the violence against her without so much as a second thought. Yes, he was under the effects of the vaccine, but was that merely amplifying an existing tendency? She did not know, and the conflict was gnawing at her. What made it worse, she could never discuss it with him. Jake could not - must not! - ever know or be reminded of his rampage. They all feared if he learned what they did – what he did – that he would try to regain his abilities, and his reign of terror would resume. She nuzzled into Brad’s strong, comforting embrace, his Herculean arm around her. He was no Jake, it was true, but he was kind and loving, the sex was fantastic (though, of course, not the perfection she had with Jake), and his body was phenomenal. And, yet, she still could not shake the thought and feelings - he was no Jake. **** As Jake’s orgasm erupted in a corner of Brad’s brain, his own dick chubbed, and his mind wandered, lustful thoughts – of tits, of arse, of legs for days, of vascularity and muscle – flooded his brain, like cumshots pumping hot man cream, flooding holes. Amber nuzzled into him, the feel of her pert, luscious tits pressing into him causing lustful fire to tingle through him, making a beeline for his cock. He smiled. Not for the first time he silently thanked Jake, his best friend and, in many ways, his saviour. If Jake had not convinced him to break his vow of celibacy, he would not have met Amber. Not since Angelina had he felt such feelings for a woman. Amber would never replace Angelina - nobody ever could - but Amber was a mighty fine substitute.
  3. Broody

    POP, part 5 added 3/MAR

    Trying something a little different here. Basic synopsis: A powerful, dominant serial killer is murdering massive bodybuilders with his bare hands, and a police detective (himself a massive bodybuilder) must track him down while fighting his own lustful attraction to the uber-masculine perpetrator.] Warnings: Snuff, Gore, Horror POP “You’re supposed to wear a coverall, like me,” said Dr Stain, the medical examiner, who in his white head-to-toe gear, contrasted sharply with the slimy red gore that covered the entire apartment. “And look like a cumshot in a uterus, like you?” said Detective Carnitas. “Not likely, chum. ‘Sides, they didn’t have one in my size.” “They don’t have doors in your size, Detective.” “True. Guess I’m just too much man for this world.” Carnitas did have to turn sideways to fit his 6’6” 450 lbs of swollen muscles through the door of this crime-scene-cum-abattoir. “This guy was too. Now literally, I guess. So be careful what you wish for.” The giant detective looked at the body. It looked like a skeleton wrapped in a bag of oversized skin. “What the fuck are you on about? This was a fat dude that had some kind of weight-loss surgery.” “Very sudden weight-loss surgery.” The doctor extended a pair of stainless steel forceps and pulled up the skin of the ragged corpse’s chest. “Weird.” Carnitas grabbed the second tool offered by the pathologist and together they raised the pec skin, which had enough area to cover a 60 inch chest. “And this surgeon needs to sharpen his scalpel, look here.” Jagged rends broke the skin at the top and sides of the chest. “It’s like the fat just burst outta him,” said the dumbfounded cop. “Not fat.” The doc pointed at the ceiling, walls and windows. “Look around at all this tissue, it’s pure red meat, no adipose.” “Are you telling me some perp exploded an Olympia-sized, fully-conditioned bodybuilder in his own apartment? What kind of weapon could do that? There’s no grenade shrapnel or burns.” Det. Carnitas felt his heart racing. “No weapon.” “So he took it with him.” “Nope.” Carnitas looked askance at the doctor. “No need to tax your brain overmuch, Detective. There’s video.” The doctor stood and crossed to a desktop computer with a webcam and used his gloved hand to wipe gore off the screen. Carnitas took a sharp breath. It was a freeze-frame shot of a red explosion that was surely the moment of death. But the red burst had a milky-white center. He found himself holding his breath, his heart fluttering as he looked closer. It was a man’s back. Though the man was half the size of the victim, he had the most densely muscled back Carnitas had ever seen. The groove of the spinal erectors in his Christmas tree was deep enough to trap a man’s fingers up to the third knuckle. His lats looked like twin wine barrels tucked under his brawny arms. His massive, tenticular traps formed a monstrous Kraken that seemed to pin Carnitas’ brown eyes with a burning glare. “What the fuck?” The doctor grabbed the mouse to click the symbol to back the vid up ten seconds. Carnitas gasped when primal sounds erupted from a fully equipped stereo system. The video showed a bloated mega-heavyweight bodybuilder who could have been Carnitas’ twin, held aloft and practically vibrating with lust in the concrete arms of the muscular perp. A high-pitched sexual whine ululated out of the bodybuilder’s cum-covered lips as the perps lats spread to eclipse their view of the vic’s mid-torso. The dominating bear-hug compressed the middle of the massive victim’s physique, swelling the top half of his pecs so much they pushed up into his chin, forcing his neck back til his whole head was obscured by deformed pec-meat blistered with stretch marks. Beastly basso-profundo grunts shot out of the subwoofer as that inhuman back rippled and flexed with incalculable strength. “Fucking hell.” Carnitas was finding it hard to breathe. The grunts got longer, louder and deeper, a counterpoint to the rising tone of the vic’s squeal, which sounded like air leaking out of a balloon. “No…” burbled the helpless vic, just as his body became a crimson supernova. Red flesh burst in all directions out of distressed skin as muscles built over years of obsessive workouts splattered like bugs on a windshield against vastly superior brawn. Carnitas was shocked and bewildered, but what happened next truly turned his world upside down. The perps wordless grunts slid into consonants and vowels as a long lingering… “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YEEEEEEEAAAAAAHHHH!!!!” … vibrated the floorboards. The sheer manly amplitude of the perp’s ultra-deep voice traveled the distance to where Carnitas stood, thundered up his shins, crossed in an X across his 38” quads and locked his groin in a vice. He couldn’t have taken his eyes off of the screen if he wanted to, as the perp turned to the side. The massive arms dropped casually to his sides, and the crushed torso slumped, but still clung goo-like to granite pecs shaped like Atlas stones that now filled the vic’s ribcage where vital organs once pulsed. A pec bounce jiggled the deformed corpse like a macabre marionette, which the perp found amusing. “HUH-HUH-HUH.” His lewd, rumbly chuckle reached out to Carnitas’ bloated prick and blasted the cum out of it like toothpaste from a tube crushed by a fist. Another pec bounce loosened the vacuum of the vic’s collapsed lungs and the sodden necrotic mess slid to the floor. As those insanely pumped, veiny boulder pecs approached the camera, the perp wiped the victim’s blood from their curvature, revealing a massive chest-and-abs tatt that penetrated the bodybuilder cop’s brain like an ice pick: GONNA POP U BITCH Carnitas blacked out as he heard the perp’s final words: “WHO’S NEXT?”
  4. (So, this is the first time I found the courage to post a little story I’ve written recently. English isn’t my primary language so hopefully the story is readable. Enjoy and let me know what you think.) LUKE - part 1: THE RECORDING Dylan and Matt were best friends. Always sharing everything together. “Hey dude” Matt said. “I found this file on the web that says it contains the deepest voice ever recorded. No footage, only audio.” Dylan looked at his best friend to see if he was joking again. But apparently Matt was very serious. “I’m sure our girlfriends would love us to have a super deep voice, hehe” A moment later they both sat down and started the audio file on Dylan’s tablet. Some voice over started explaining a few facts about the audio file. “Listen carefully. This recording contains the voice of a minor. There used to be video footage to, but it has been removed because it was too obscene. Too revealing. And most people could no handle what they were seeing. Also keep in mind that the voice on this recording is not meant for male audiences. Listen to it on your own risk.” Matt and Dylan looked at each other. They only noticed the last too sentences. “Why would they say it’s not for male audiences?” Matt asked Dylan. “I have no idea, but to be honest, it actually makes me more curious.” Dylan answered. “So let’s continue. The file continued. It started a count down. 3…2…1 “Hi” an incredibly deep voice boomed through the computer speakers. Matt and Dylan were both erect when they heard the hyper manly voice. “My name is Luke and I just turned 18.” The incredibly deep voice continued shaking the two friend’s senses. “That voice…it’s…oh fuck…so m-manly.” Matt said, while he stroked his dick through his pants. Dylan was already openly stroking his cock after he took off his jeans. He was breathing heavily. What happened next is something both boys could not have imagined… “I’m your alpha.” the voice said, causing Matt to stick out his tongue and open his pants to jerk off his cock too. “Your superior.” making both boys drool, and their cocks leak tons of pre. “Your god.” which made the boys empty their balls with a seemingly endless supply of cum. They kept cumming for two minutes straight. “And now…” the monstrously deep voice continued “…you are mine. If you are a girl, your tits might have grown bigger and your butt more bubbly. Your body adapted to look more beautiful for me. And if you are a guy, your body has realized how manly I am. Turning you into a horny, weak little gay boy. Submitting to me. Forgetting about your lover, because I am the one you really want. Becoming horny whenever you only think about this recording. Your cock spurting cum when hearing the slightest rumbling sound of my voice. You are all MINE” The recording ended. Matt and Dylan kept cumming endlessly while hearing the rest of the audio file. They were kissing each other and moaning uncontrollably, only to pass out next to each other. The recording was programmed to send itself to all contacts that were available on Dylan’s tablet……..
  5. hptycoon49

    Dorm Alpha [Part II Added 2/4]

    This story has been a scene I've had in my head for a long time. My plan is to make this a series. I hope you all like it. Comments and suggestions are appreciated. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Dorm Alpha: Part 1 Alex’s eyes snapped open, it was dark in the dorm room except for the light from his digital clock on the bedside table showing 3am. Something was tickling his chest. He looked down but his view was obscured by two giant rock-solid mounds of hair and muscle. The sensation continued, tingles shot from his nipple down his torso. Alex sat upward, the two side-by-side twin mattresses he slept on creaked as he adjusted his bulk. As he sat up, he found the “something” tickling his nipple was his puny roommate Peter, suckling desperately on his muscle tit. Alex pushed him off roughly and he fell to the floor. “Fuck off Pete!” Alex hissed. Peter sat on the floor jerking his cock, staring up at his gargantuan roommate. Eyes wild with lust. Alex looked to the other side of the dorm where a pile of several other college boys slept soundly on the floor. He’d long ago claimed the second bed for himself. He smiled as flashes of the previous evening’s fuckfest and worship session replayed through his mind. Suddenly, Alex realized he needed to take a piss. He got up, as he did so he roughly pushed past Pete still jerking his dick. Then he ducked to exit the dorm room and went down the hall and into the bathroom butt-naked. Alex sidled up next to a urinal, lifted his python and let loose a torrent of hot piss. Relieved, Alex walked to the sink and took a look at himself in the mirror. “Fuck” he blurted out. Then a shit-eating grin spread across his face. Even he was still blown away by the body before him. Nearly 7 feet tall, 350 lbs, ripped to shreds and covered from the chest down in thick, dark hair. Alex was a sight to behold. He lifted his arms above his head, smashing his biceps into his ears as he did so, relishing in his obscene size and muscularity. Alex sucked in his stomach and crunched down his abs. Eight enormous, deeply etched bricks framed with sharp obliques like fingers accentuated an almost comically tight waist. He held this position, flexing hard and watching thick gnarled veins surface across his torso, clearly visible even through the thick layer of body hair. Alex then slowly and gracefully lowered his arms into a double biceps pose, flaring his lats out wider and wider, making him look like a fuckin Dorito. Shoulders the size of watermelons literally burst from his body. Each head of muscle, etched deep and thick, even without a pump. As Alex’s eyes swept across the mirror, drinking in his gargantuan frame, his cock, which had been resting heavily on the bathroom counter began to fill with blood. Alex’s eyes, which had been focused on his meaty-as-all-fuck traps looked down at his cock as it lengthened along the bathroom counter approaching the sink faucet. Seventeen, eighteen inches perhaps? At some point he had just stopped measuring. It’s grown every day since he started college. Since he started eating and lifting like a beast. Alex smirked as his cock finally reached its final length, four inches from the backsplash. “Guess I have a new goal” he thought to himself. Just then, he heard the sound of a toilet flushing and the door to the stall behind him opened up. Without ever turning around, or indeed, dropping his double bicep pose, Alex called to the little runt exiting the stall. “Hey Brett-y. Wanna feel some muscle?” The kid froze like a deer in headlights. Brett lived at the other end of the hall. Quiet guy, kept to himself. Probably didn't weigh more than 150 lbs wet. Alex dropped his arms. Letting them relax against his sides. His lats pushed his arms out to 45 degrees. “Come here Brett-y, don’t be shy. I want you to feel my glutes. I’ve really been focusing on them lately.” Alex flexed his glute muscles with perfect control making the feathered muscles twitch up and down. Brett inched up to Alex, trembling head to foot. His head only reaching the small of Alex’s back. All the while Alex had remained facing the mirror, staring at himself. His body was so large that as Brett stepped closer he was entirely obscured by muscle. Because of Alex's height, Brett had to put his hands out at eye level to touch his ass. He squeaked when his hands felt the hot, hard as iron muscle in front of him. The smell was overwhelming, intoxicating. It made Brett's head spin and very quickly he began cleaning Alex's ass with his tongue. Drinking it in. The feeling of Brett’s tongue probing his ass cheeks caused Alex's giant member to stiffen even more if possible. He brought his left arm back up high and began to worship his own bicep. Alex flexed hard, the bulging ball of muscle pumped bigger and bigger. Alex watched himself in the mirror as his thick powerful tongue licked the titanic bicep tracing the powerful veins on his left arm. Alex grabbed hold of his monstrous cock with the other arm, all the while Brett's tongue probed deeper and deeper. Alex pressed his huge, beefy, calloused hand on top of his dick, pinning it down to the sink counter. He then began grinding his monstrous cock back and forth, relishing in how his hands, huge as they were, looked tiny in comparison to his giant dick. “Deeper Brett. Really get in there” Alex growled. Brett could only moan with pleasure at being surrounded by so much hot muscle. He pushed his head in deeper and Alex relaxed his glutes allowing Brett access to his hole. Alex could have crushed Brett’s skull with a single flex and he knew it. It would be all too easy to snuff out his life. Alex puffed out his chest. The slabs of meat pushed outward, the thick hair on his pecs tickled Alex’s chin. He was a fuckin stud, the ultimate alpha. No one past, present or future who ever lived in this dorm would ever approach his level of superiority and he was only 19. Had only started growing a year ago. He never stopped thinking about growth. Food, Muscle, and Sex was all he ever thought about. With that he let go of his monstrous dick. His cock swung upwards like a baseball bat smashing into his enormous pec cleavage. Alex flexed his pecs along his dick, the hair and muscle stimulating the red-hot iron rod. With Brett’s tongue still stimulating his hole, Alex raised his arms up one last time, flexing every part of his body, expanding in every direction. It was too much. The muscle drove him mad and cock convulsed firing thick college boy spunk onto the ceiling. Alex grabbed his cock, still spewing jizz and aimed it at the bathroom sink. He watched enthralled as his mammoth alpha cock filled the sink nearly halfway up with cum. So thick it didn't drain down. “Fuck Brett, look at that” Alex said. “I'm such a fucking stud! That's more cum than the whole football team jizzes in a month I bet!.... Brett?” Brett was on the floor, dazed from his own epic orgasm being surrounded by Alex's beefy hairy glutes. Alex scooped up Brett like a ragdoll and carried him out to the common area where he deposited him on the couch. Alex went back to his room, opened the door, ducked and went inside. Puney Pete was still sitting on the floor leaning against Alex's bed snoring loudly, hand still on his dick. As Alex got into bed he purposely slapped Pete's face with his weighty flaccid dick. Alex chuckled to himself. Just a few hours till breakfast he thought. With that, the Alex drifted off to sleep. He had a big day tomorrow. In fact, everyday was big and getting bigger.
  6. After reading many great stories on this forum, I decided it's high time to give back something to this community. I drafted my first story based on topics I really like and which turn me on - domination, huge muscles (obviously), power. I spiced it with a bit of snuff, although this will never be the main theme of this story. I tried to keep the story realistic - my hero will never become a giant or be strong enough to lift a tank. But he will be strong enough to beat the shit of any human. And have ample fun hearing him beg for his pathetic life. I am looking forward to your feedback and comments. Feel free to either comment below or by sending me a message. Today you get the first two chapters. If the story gets enough attention and positive replies, I plan to continue it of course. Happy reading and have fun! * * * PROLOGUE The helicopter was already flying quite low, just above the treetops. Below us was a vast forest, which we could barely see in the dark. The pilot was clearly afraid. And he had full reason to be. We were flying in the dark with minimal lights and not much moonlight, which already created a danger. But this danger was the lowest on his priority ranking. Worse for him was that we were flying over enemy territory and as we were flying so low, we were quite easy targets for enemy fire. But what he feared most, was me. And rightfully so. My legend preceded me. The pilot heard a lot about me before boarding this helicopter. In fact, when he learned whom he would carry on board tonight, he started to tremble. Although I did not care to say anything to him, my size, my Alphaness and my manly scent made his body automatically shrink and surrender. Only his completely average dick was totally hard during the entire flight. He was lucky I ignored his mediocre existence, as I was focused on a bigger fish to fry. * * * CHAPTER 1 My name is Serhyi. I am 29 years old and I am the latest experiment of Ukrainian scientists who collaborated with the best American colleagues to create a super-soldier; a ruthless and cruel killing machine. Even before being recruited to this experiment, I was a huge guy. I competed in international strongman championships representing my country, usually placing in the top 5. I won a few bodybuilding championships in the heavyweight category. I loved martial arts and wrestling, although I never competed on a national level in those. I loved fighting, cause it not only fulfilled my desire to be the best, which the other sports did too, but it also fulfilled my desire to crush my opponents, to make them realise and painfully feel their inferiority compared to Me. I loved to see fear in their eyes even before I started dominating them. I loved to inflict pain, to hear them scream, especially those who before the match believed they are macho. To me they were wimps and fucktoys. Unfortunately, this was not what they wanted at competitions, hence I never competed. When my country was invaded by the neighbouring Russia five years ago, I enlisted for the army. I wanted to fight against the invaders. I was immediately spotted by the recruiting commission, as I stood out from the crowd of mediocre men. I was 201 cm tall, which is 6 foot 6 inches in your American standards. And I was muscular, very muscular. A heavyweight bodybuilder with 61 cm arms (24”) which were bigger than the thighs of the weakling next to my right. My huge muscular chest was 145 cm (57”) at that time and contained more muscle than the whole body of the skinny wimp to my left, who timidly looked up at me from time to time praying that the enemy soldiers do not look like me. Add to the description of my magnificent body quite low body fat level (I wasn’t in competition shape, but it was around 8%, which made all my muscles nicely visible under my skin). I looked like a monster among petty humans. Which was exactly true. The head doctor who examined all of us who were standing in briefs was clearly aroused. He quickly checked all the average males and told me I would undergo a special inspection at the end. He was a middle-aged guy who was quite fit for his age and had more muscle than most of the candidates standing in front of him. Next to me though, he looked skinny and weak. He knew it and I knew it. I thought about dominating him and making him my puppet, but then I thought I should first wait and see what he has to offer me before subjugating him. It proved to be the right decision. After 10 minutes of inspections, the wimps were all proved worthy of being sent to the front and left the room. I was left alone with the doctor, who moved from his desk closer to me. I noticed he had a hard on, which was no surprise to me, as most males react with an erection in My presence. He asked me about my past, my sport experience, my strength while at the same time inspecting me. He started with the obvious - heart rate, pulse, then moved to inspect the quality of My muscles. His eyes were becoming wider and wider with awe. His dick harder and harder. Soon there was a wet stain between his legs. I smirked - I just subjugated another weakling without even bothering to make him feel My real power. The doc looked at Serhyi. He was in awe. What was before his eyes was a perfect male. Very tall, extremely muscular, very virile. The skin did little to hide the huge muscles underneath it. His pecs were like giant iron cushions. They emanated power and manhood. Just by looking at them anyone else already knew who the Alpha in the room is. On both sides of the giant pecs were two enormous shoulders. Each one the size of a watermelon. They made him look extremely wide and terrifying. Just beneath them were his rock-hard arms. Each one bigger than docs thighs, and doc was no stranger in the gym. They probably could curl more than what doc could leg press. Underneath the iron pecs were the beautifully carved abs. Even his obliques were elegantly visible showing his quite narrow waist. Then came the gigantic pillars of his legs. They seemed extremely long. As for their size - the doc wasn't sure he could circumvent the quads using both of his arms. He didn't even want to try doing that, as he was afraid it could anger Serhyi. And that was the last thing doc wanted to do. Below the huge quads were the brilliant, massive calves. Each one the size of docs thigh. And then came his long feet. Serhyi had even big muscles there. His scent was very manly. His pheromones subconsciously bombarded doc’s brain saying: “you are weaker, you are powerless in front of this male. Just accept it, as it's useless to deny it.” And doc did accept it. Fully. The doc was on his knees checking the density of My calves, each the size and shape of a rugby ball, when I asked him whether he wanted to see and check My cock. He slightly blushed and told me that this was on his checklist too, but he was too afraid to ask me. I didn’t even bother to reply to him and just took my pants off. My semi-hard already 18 cm (7”) long cock jumped out and flew above the head of the doctor. He licked his lips and looked lustfully at it. He tried to stay professional and started to measure its size with a tape. He then told me he needs to see it fully erect to measure it. He asked me whether I could make it hard. I replied that his hands and mouth are a perfect tool for that and that he is to do it himself. Without even realising it, he instantly obeyed my command. The first one of the many I gave him in the next months. He worshipped My cock just like he worshipped My muscular body - with care, respect and professionalism. He proved to be a worthy sub. My cock was full mast in less than a minute. It was easy, cause I hadn’t cum since morning and my balls were aching to be milked. My amazing steel rod was the only thing the doctor had on his mind at the moment. I was a little impressed that he still managed to control himself when he stopped slurping My cockhead and started measuring it. He looked at the numbers and proudly announced, “33 centimetres (13”) with a circumference of 30 cm (12”). The biggest and thickest in the whole Ukrainian army!” I nodded in approval - good to be informed scientifically about My superiority to other “men”. It will make My decision to subjugate other soldiers quicker. In case they would act cocky, I would order them to take out their dicks and compare them to My cock. I would always win and the guys would have to give Me their asses, if I wished so. Easy job. I looked at the doctor who now told me he needs a sample of my sperm in order to check My virility. “You doubt My virility?!” I raised My voice. He immediately turned rather pale and told Me he does not, but he needs it to be scientifically lab tested in order to check My health levels for the special assignment I might be given. I just nodded in approval and pointed at him and at My cock. He understood immediately and rushed to My cock with a measuring cup. I smirked looking at the size of it. It could barely hold 50 ml (1.6 oz.) of sperm, a small fraction of what I usually cum. But it was designed for average humans, not for virile muscle gods. I expected the doctor to drink the rest of My cum, which would not fit in the cup. The doc returned to worshipping My cock with his hands and mouth. You could see he was well trained - not like the bimbos I fucked after the wrestling matches. He really knew how and where to touch it and squeeze it. I was soon close to cumming and he felt it too. He was puzzled, cause he knew he had to catch My cum in the cup, but at the same time he was unable to stop himself from giving head to Me. I decided to release him from his dilemmas and told him that there will be more cum than he needs both for the cup and for his mouth. Without taking My cock out of his mouth, he nodded in approval and awe and continued slurping. A few moments later, I growled and started cumming. In My standards, it was just an average cumshot, but the unprepared doc was shocked. He was too slow in swallowing My nectar, so his cheeks quickly filled with My cum and it started pouring out of his mouth. He rapidly put the cup under his own chin and in no time, it was completely full with My seed too. As he started choking on My cum, he released My rod which continued shooting and making his doctor's smock completely covered with My juices. From now on he was marked as My property. As I finished shooting, I looked down at the doc’s pants and saw the obvious - he came, too. He will be taught that next time he is to ask permission for cumming in My presence. But it was my first day in the army and not all of My rules have been applied here yet. This will change as time passes and people will learn to obey My orders. Even those who are theoretically above Me, as they have a higher military rank. That will not prevent them from being subjugated by Me. On the contrary - it will make their fall under My feet even sweeter. If needed, some will be snuffed in the process. It will just make My glory and My fame greater. The doctor came back to his senses from the biggest orgasm he ever had (till now) and started looking around. His face and his smock was covered with My cum, the cup was completely full and there was a large puddle of My goo on the floor. I decided to slowly start training My new sub and ordered him to lick the floor clean. He looked up at Me with a question in his eyes, but when he met My steel gaze, he immediately understood that I am deadly serious and started cleaning the floor with his tongue. He took his wet smock off which allowed me to inspect his upper body. It was nicely shaped. I could see that doc was a regular in the gym and that his diet was well under control. His arms had decent biceps and the pecs were nice and juicy. His abs were clearly visible. His ass was deliciously sticking up as he kneeled, licking the floor. I found his body worth My fuck next time we do it again. The fact that he was a top, of which I was informed later, did not matter to Me. For Me all were bottoms. I usually preferred tops even more, as their asses were tighter, although for My rod every ass was tight, especially during the first few fucks. The doc finished licking My goo and turned around. In the meantime, I walked behind the desk and sat on his chair. The chair squeaked under My weight. To help the poor chair a bit, I put My huge muscular long legs on the doc’s desk, trying not to crush his keyboard in the process. The doc was at first shocked to see Me sitting from where he usually commanded the room and the subordinates, but he understood that from now on the hierarchy will look different. He took a small chair opposite the desk and sat like a suppliant in his own office. His eyes were sliding over My huge muscles which were simply relaxing after a pleasant fuck. I looked at him and said, “So - what special assignment are you giving Me?” He replied, “It’s not sure that you would be given it. There are a number of other potential candidates.” I repeated My question slightly louder, “So - what special assignment ARE you giving ME?” He swallowed his saliva and said, “It is most likely that you will indeed be the one we are looking for. So far you tick all the boxes of the perfect candidate. We would like to create a super soldier who would significantly raise our chances of winning this war. We need someone who is extremely powerful to make him even more powerful, beyond what humans usually can do. But there are several restrictions, potential bottlenecks and side effects. That’s why, for example, we need to test your sperm. We will also need to check how you react to the serum, as you may be allergic to it, which would ruin the whole experiment.” “Then test it now,” I said. “Now??” He clearly did not expect such an answer. “Yes. Inject it and let’s see.” The doc quickly analysed something in his head and agreed. He took a syringe and filled it with some purple liquid. He told Me that due to My size, he will apply a double dose of the serum. I approved his proposal. He will learn that he can propose something, but it is Me who will take the decision. As a smart doc, he already was learning it, even if subconsciously. The injection was quick and a bit painful. I love pain, both when I apply it and when I receive it, so it was a pleasure. The doc told me that we need to wait at least five minutes to see the first results. After five or six minutes, I started feeling really good. Even more manly that I usually do. I didn’t see much of a difference in My body. Maybe only My muscles were more tense and dense. Suddenly the door opened and an officer entered holding one of the average Joes who were recruited with me. The Joe seemed frightened and the officer aroused. He shouted at the doc, “Andryi - this recruit is not from Odessa as he claims. We just found out he is a Russian spy who wanted to infiltrate our army. What shall we do with him?” Andryi, as now I knew the docs name (I didn’t care how he was named till now), told the officer that the potential spy needs to be interrogated and that we can use me to do it. Then he turned around to Me and he realised he committed a grave error. He looked apologetically towards Me and said, “Sir, would you approve of interrogating this scum?” The doc was a fast learner. He even started calling Me “Sir” before I ordered him to do so. I was impressed. I approved his proposal and took over Ivan or whatever his name was. I felt anger, as the guy wanted to infiltrate My new barracks and put Me in theoretical danger. Before I even said a word to him, I punched him quickly in the face. He was completely unprepared (neither was the officer who held him). Due to the impact of My fist, Ivan hit the wall behind him and fell to his knees. The officer managed to jump aside, but he was angry. I didn’t care. Ivan in the meantime spit out two of his teeth. His nose was broken and he started to bleed. He looked from his position up to Me. He saw a muscular giant towering him nearly up to the ceiling wearing only briefs. He saw the anger in my eyes. He knew that I would not play along any civilised rules of interrogating a suspect and that I wouldn’t care if he dies in the process. His correct analysis of his situation was brutally interrupted by My kick in his chest. I loved kickboxing and I knew how to kick to create the most impact. His eyes nearly popped out, he was lifted up from the ground by the impact and he could not breathe for a longer moment. His chest had a huge bruise roughly in the shape of my foot. And I have really big feet. He started coughing and spit out some blood. But even before he could catch his breath after the kick, a new wave of pain emerged in his body, as my foot after the kick landed on his left palm on which he tried to support his upper body in order to regain breathing. I weighed over 140 kg (310 lbs) then and I had no mercy to use My weight in order to crush his finger bones. In order to do it completely I twisted My heel, nicely pulverising them in the process. His shriek was heard quite from afar. I was happy he quickly understood his position and started begging me to stop. We started the interview. The officer asked a question. If the victim did not reply immediately, he lost another part of his flesh or bones. Fifteen minutes later we knew his real name, his unit, his commander, his home address, the codes he was to be using to connect his home unit, even his bank account number in Moscow and the PIN card to the new account he just got in Ukraine. As well as all the data of his girlfriend. Ivan just lost one eye in the process (I didn’t expect it to float out so easily). His left leg was broken, the bone sticking out through the mangled muscle. His left hand was pulverised and his small balls were ripped off. I gave them to doc as a souvenir. But he was alive and even conscious. He probably cursed the day he agreed to take this mission and even more the moment he stumbled upon Me. The officer took the victim out of the room into his new prison cell. It just left the two of us. The doc was clearly impressed. He told both Me that the serum worked exactly as expected. It gave me way more power and precision. I thought back at the interview and indeed noticed that breaking bones was way easier for Me than it normally was. I was even impressed how soft the victim was and how effortless it was to crack him. Now I knew that he might have been completely normal and it was Me who gained so much more strength as to make breaking a human a piece of cake. * * * CHAPTER 2 It took Me a few weeks to get used to My new strength level. I crushed and meld several things in the process. Dumbbells, knives, plates, mugs, even a rifle, although that was by pure coincidence. My PRs in the gym seemed so easy to break. Deadlift, bench press, squat - all were surpassed by 25-50%. I was fed well and gained new muscle mass. The doc took good care of Me and fed me with the best supplements on top of the serum he was giving Me. I demanded two servants, who were to fulfill My needs day and night. My officer (whom I subbed the first night I met him) talked to his commander, who at first rejected My proposal. My officer did not know how to inform Me about the fact that someone dared to contradict Me. When I finally forced him to tell it (a good choking session with My biceps always helps), I smiled and said that I always like some challenges. He relaxed and was even rewarded for his loyalty to Me with his first ass fuck. He couldn’t walk properly for three days after that. But he seemed happy and treated this as a special recognition. After fucking My superior (only in rank, as he was inferior to Me in every way, even though he looked quite decent for a human), I went to the major. He seemed not to be aware yet that I gave the orders here. I entered his office just after a gym session. I was wearing a tank top, which revealed the incredible size of My muscles. I didn’t even bother to knock. The major was behind his desk. He was a skinny short guy in his late 40-ties. We never met before, as he was on a mission somewhere in the past days. He heard about Me of course, just like everyone on the campus. Now he was about to learn his position in MY campus. He looked at Me from behind the desk and was clearly impressed. He did not dare to protest that I entered his office without even knocking, let alone having an appointment. I came straight to his desk, sweaty still from the good upper body workout I just had. My manly musk filled in the room, as the windows were closed. “So it is you, Serhyi!” said the major. “Yes, it’s Me, Oleh,” I replied. I didn’t bother to name him by rank and directly called him by name, crossing all the rules in the Ukrainian army. This was to make him understand that rules apply to others, but not to Me. And to make him softer to crack. I sat on his desk with My ass and back towards him. But as I came here with friendly intentions, I turned My head towards him and even slightly smiled. He was shocked by My behaviour, but I didn’t give him time to get used to it, as I started nonchalantly taking off My military boots. “I heard you did not fulfill My order, which I sent to you via My intermediary. I am a busy man and I do not have time to do all the things myself. As you already know, I am the pinnacle of your army and as such, I expect respect from all. You included. From you, I also expect obedience, as you seem to have some power here. Your powers are to be used to emphasize My power and My authority. If you have a stupid idea to go against Me, we will have a big problem here. I will need to talk to your commander and have you replaced. And it might be quite painful. For you of course.” As I spoke, the small man became smaller and smaller. He was sweating and had a clear problem speaking since I entered the room. Having no response from him, I paused to speak and started to take My socks off. The room was filled in with My scent even more. If someone had entered it, he would not feel the smell of another male in the room. As, in fact, there was no other male in the room. The other human was reduced to his asexual agamic form. I continued to speak, “You have the reports about My strength, My abilities and My new superpowers. In fact, I am currently sitting on this report. You therefore know what I am capable of. Your report probably includes information about the two guys I already killed here and a few others who got injured. I came here with friendly intentions and want you to be happy to work for Me. Remember that My success will also be your success, if I allow you to continue commanding this unit. So - will you agree to submit to My power and fulfill My orders and needs?” He clearly read the report and knew I could kill him on spot before he even could cry for help. Still unable to speak, he nodded his head. “Good!” I replied. “You will address Me as Sir from now on". He nodded again. “Now let Me give you a little reward for your cooperation. Go under your desk and stick your head from My side, facing up, so that you can see Me sitting here.” He obeyed. Good, cause snuffing him would create a bit of havoc, would delay My transformation and the short-term pleasure would be outweighed by mid-term nuisances. His head appeared from underneath the desk, right between My feet. From this perspective, I seemed even bigger to the major. “To visualise our new relations, you are to lick all the sweat off My feet. I know you will enjoy it.” The guy was so confused at this moment, that he started licking before his brain analysed what I just told him. Then it was too late to stop and he continued his feet worshipping session. I took out My mobile and did a series of photos and a video of him servicing My feet to blackmail him in case he has the dumb idea to resist Me next time. If he is good however, I might send him a copy, so that he has some jerk off material when I am not around. After the first few moments of overwhelming fear, I could see Oleh started to relax and enjoy his new position. I knew he was a feet fetishist from his lover, beautiful blonde-haired Junior Lieutenant Irina. She was not only his lover. In fact, she fucked every tenth soldier in this campus. She slid into My bed the second night I was there and she got way more than what she was expecting. I gave her more orgasms than she had in the last two months combined. I also made her holes too wide for most of the soldiers. She gave me lots of secret info on anyone worth My or her fuck. She remained My fuckspy throughout the whole time. We agreed however that I would only fuck her in the ass and only halfway deep. Otherwise she would not be able to fuck other guys well, making her way less useful for Me. In the meantime, Oleh was moaning and getting close to orgasm. I heard a strange sound from the other side of the door. The serum enhanced my hearing abilities; I could hear sounds normal humans could not. Without a hesitation, I took out a knife I had in My pocket and threw it forcefully at the door which was on the opposite side of the room. The knife flew perfectly and with a loud thud entered the door up to its handgrip. I heard a sigh and saw drops of blood mixed with brain dripping of the blade. Someone who dared to listen to My interaction with Oleh has just been snuffed. Probably another Russian spy whose task was to control what Oleh was doing. Oleh understood what just happened, but he was already too high and it just made his arousal higher. He started cumming under the desk. I didn’t even care to see it. Once he finished, I prepared to jump off the desk. He was petrified. His face grew ashen and his skin taut against his skull as he thought I would crush his skull. My 150 kg (330 lbs) hard flesh flying into his skull would certainly make his death a quick one. Although I killed a guy just a minute ago, I had no intentions of adding Oleh to this list. Not today. I swiftly landed just above his head, turned around so that I could face him and unzipped My fly. He got terrified again, as he thought I would fuck him. He was straight and never had male sex till now. But that was not on My menu either. His body looked so pathetic, that My cock did not even get a hard on in the process. I took out My cock so that I could piss on him, further engraving in his mind his position in My presence. After emptying My bladder, I left the room, leaving the commander in My piss on the floor under his own desk. I opened the door with the spy still pinned by My knife to it and took My knife back, wiping the blade with the uniform of the dead guy. I didn’t even check who he was. It was irrelevant currently, was it not?
  7. EtherealGrowth

    A friend like me

    With the new year commencing and fresh ideas churning in my mind, I find it is time I share a story once again. This theme keeps on lingering in my mind and it is just very fitting for this particular audience. I've written a similar story once before but unfortunately it has vanquished into the abyss after the server crash. You could say the story you're about to read, especially it's details, also faded away in time... A friend like me - Chapter 1: It's a BAZAAR world out there The thing with fairytale, myths, and folklore is that the details and often not so happy-go-lucky endings are frequently left out or changed. This story is no exception to that phenomenon, which is why it is definitely worth reading. Now... let's begin our story in the land where caravan camels roam. Dashing through the narrow streets, products rolling of carts, freshly hung laundry falling on the dusty paths, and sweat travelling down his body. A quick, hooded, figure made his way through the busy Bazaar aiming for the outskirts of the city, a bag hanging over his shoulders. Tumultuous sounds heard all over the place. "STOP! THIEF!!!" a buldering voice echoed from behind him. The chasers were surely gaining on him and it was almost over for him. In a split second a little throwing-knife slid from under his sleeve and with a flick of his wrist it dashed toward the inner gate. The knife made a clean cut through the rope and the gate started to lower. The figure dug under the falling gate and a loud crash followed as it hit the ground. He looked back through the gate's bars and saw an exhausted Royal Guard unit; led by THE Razoul himself. "Always fancy seeing you my fellow Agrabahnians and have an enchanting day" the supposed thieve said. Quickly the figure disappeared into the busy crowd of working folk and continued his way onward. While our stranger is continuing his way, I'll shed some light on the time and scenery we're dealing with. This story, as you've probably already guessed, takes place in Agrabah; wealthiest of the kingdoms in the Seven Deserts and most strategically located within the Citadel. It is currently under the rule of the Hamed Sultanate, with its current head of state: Sultan Hamed III. A city of mystery, of enchantment, and the finest merchandise this side of the River Jordan! A real melting pot of social classes. Before I start rambling about this bustling city, let's get back to the story. Our mysterious stranger had made his way to the infamous, Thieves Quarters, a place where crime was the norm and not the exception. Not the safest place to be you'd expect but because of its reputation, not many dared go there. Amidst the Thieves Quarters was the Street of Forty Thieves, where our protagonist reached into the well to grab a key. He walked up to a stack of barrels, inserted the key somewhere on the side, turned it and entered the building through the entrance. He was greeted by the sweet smell of perfume lingering in the room. He looked around but saw no-one, he shrugged and dumped the bag in the kitchen area. "You must be Devi," a female voice said. His heart jumped as he turned around and saw a young woman brew herself some tea. "Fuck, you scared the shit out of me... But you're correct m'lady!" Devi said. The woman laughed softly and said: "I heard you had some rooms available, you know, the of the grid kinda type". "Definitely, however I usually hear about arrivals from my companions beforehand," he replied. The lady apologised and told him she would pay extra for the inconvenience. Devi walked over to a little counter, bowed down, pointing his juicy cakes up to the sky, and reached for a key. He pointed to the stairs and directed her to her room: "This is yours, make yourself at home. It ain't much but you won't be bothered by whomever you're running from". "I'm not running from anyone perse," she said, "I'm merely here for observation; Celeste is the name by the way". "I honestly don't need to know miss, the less I know, the better I can protect you" Devi said. Celeste smiled and handed Devi the money, a bunch of exotic coins, but whatever. Devi left the room and started stocking the cabinets with the products he "brought"... You must know Agrabah isn't the easiest city to live in as a mere street rat, or mice if you're female, but juggling a couple of jobs most can get by. This story however, takes place amidst the hottest summer recorded yet. Most crops had decayed, the harvest was practically ruined and the lower class was starting to crumble. It is still a flourishing city, with all its export of silks and jewels, but the scarce import of food is mainly directed towards the upper-class. All the fault of the cowardly Sultan Hamed. "Challenging times are they not..." Celeste said spontaneously. "By the djinn!" Devi said, "How are you so quiet?! But yeah, this Sultan is really making a mess out of it." Devi continued stocking his supply as Celeste stumbled across the walls of the room. It was incredibly hot in the room, the sweat pretty much streaming from his face. Devi took of his hood, revealing his tan and muscular arms, covered in intricate tattoos. Devi had always been quite athletic and was generally gifted in the muscle department. His height wasn't spectacular at 5'7" but he made up for it in raw, pure muscle strength. His arms were big, sturdy forearms, big begins slithering over them, topped with perfectly rounded, 20-inch, biceps. You could clearly sea the musculature of his upper body through the thin and drenched tanktop he wore underneath. Celeste glanced at him, blushed, and quickly continued scanning the shelves. Devi was finished stocking up and quickly smelled his armpits and they smelled utterly foul, like beyond the musk that would make the average human feel horny. "Who are this?" Celeste asked holding a piece of papyrus. Devi walked over and said: "It's me and my mom, she actually started this safe haven years ago. Initially so my dad could return home because he was falsely accused by some vizier." "And this?" Celeste asked. "That's Al, my bonus brother, and his pet monkey Abu. We took him in as a kid and cared for him, since his parents abandoned him. I was always ready to fight for him, good guy! Haven't seen him in a while though..." Devi said. Celeste looked over her shoulder, right into Devi's amber eyes, then looking at his chiseled chin and dark beard covering his chin, his man-bun sagging from its hairband. Devi also glanced into her light grey, almost white, eyes and quickly announced he was gonna wash himself real quick. He rushed towards the washing room on the patio, where he undressed, and started cleaning himself up a bit. After a while Devi was all cleaned and made his way to his room. In all the commotion he totally forgot that he had a guest over and well before he knew it he heard a clattering sound. Celeste had dropped a little plant in a pot when she saw him walking towards her. There Devi stood, butt-naked, his dark long locks still a bit wet and hanging over his pecs. Celeste was presently surprised by what she saw. A beautiful young man with stunning arms, his pecs also covered in tattoos and bulging outwards, topped with pointy nipples. The kind of pecs that sensually bounce when you walk. Underneath a beautiful 6-pack of abs. His whole body was covered in a musky layer of hair. Devi's legs were also impressive, they were thick, you could clearly point out all the different muscle groups within them. Mostly she was amazed by the 6-inch flaccid cock that was dangling between his legs, promptly pressed forward by a pair of luscious balls the size of eggs. "I'm so incredibly sorry, I totally forgot you were here," Devi stammered, "I'll get you some food on the house as compensation!" Celeste looked at him and grinned. "I know a better way to compensate me..." she said and with a flick of her wrist here beautiful, white, silk dress loosened and fell on the floor. The room now filled with two naked individuals. Devi couldn't control his lust and like an animal he rushed towards Celeste. He lifted her up and pressed her body against the wall. The two started kissing furiously as they made their way to Devi's bedroom. On the way Devi's 6-inch flaccid dick turned into a juicy 10-inch poker with a mushroom head on top. Devi threw Celeste on the bed and carefully started caressing her body. She wore beautiful jewelry and wore a silky cover over her heaving breasts. Devi removed the cover and continued kissing her boobs. Celeste started pounding his muscles while Devi was giving her all the poses. He then flipped her around, grabbed her hair, and pounded her for a good while in doggy-style. "RRRRRrrrrrhaaaa... rrrhhaaaa," echoed through the room with every powerful thrust, making Celeste's boobs jiggle up and down, as well as Devi's juicy ass. Just before he climaxed, he pulled out, and a sweet stream of cum landed on Celeste's breasts. Celeste hadn't had such great sex in a long while but was flustered by what happened when Devi climaxed. His eyes, interestingly enough, flared a bright amber coloured light, almost like a flame, when he did. Without giving it much thought, the two slowly drifted away into the world of dreams, a world of endless possibility... Meanwhile within the inner walls of the city, in the Royal Guard HQ, the mood was quite different. Razoul had returned from the Bazaar with the taxes they'd earned from directing the goods to the right merchants. While the poor despised this system, the rich, and mainly a certain vizier, wazir, alchemist, whatever you wanna call him, benefitted the most from it. Almost as if he had a hand in enforcing this new law, like he planted this idea into the Sultan's mind... "You bunch of second-best imbeciles!" a voice bellowed, "How can you lose all that valuable merchandise to a mere street rat". "Vizier Jafar, we were simply outnumbered..." Razoul lied. "Yeah yeah, 10 guys" ... "At least 30 guys were in on it" two guards said at the same time. Razoul quickly shushed them. "Lying now, are we?" Jafar said, "For that you'll be punished Razoul! Leave us be you two!" With a swish of Jafars cobra-headed staff the doors opened and the two rushed out. "Time to pay, my little servant!" Jafar said with a grinn on his face. Razoul undressed, revealing his big and bulky muscle swine body and a leather jockstrap containing a small and fat cock. Razoul was a big dude, about 300 pounds, bulky muscles all over his body, a real muscle swine kinda body, a thick layer of hair all over. A real jiggly bubble butt portruding from behind. He got down on his knees, pulled Jafar's robe to the side and started caressing Jafar's monster cock. It was long and veiny with a cockring on top. "Choke you useless piece of meat!" Jafar said, grabbing Razoul's head and pressing it firmly on his groin. Razoul gave Jafar an insane blowjob, using all the tricks he had up his sleeve. All the while Jafar was humiliating him for his tiny cock. At the end of the heavenly blowjob Razoul's eyes were starting to tear up from the ginormous stallion. Jafar pulled out and said: "Yes... YES... YEHES!!! Serve me, my little bitch!" as he came all over Razoul's face. Thick streaks of cum still running over Razoul's face as Jafar commanded him to get back to work. Eventhough Jafar knew Razoul enjoyed this punishment, it was still worth it considering the immense pleasure it gave him. Razoul was about to leave when Jafar asked: "Enlighten me, cumface, who stole the goods?" "Don't think we've ever caught him sir!" Razoul answered, "He did, however, have very noticeable tattoos om his hands and chest and his eyes had a very mystical amber kinda colour." Jafar mumbled something as he pulled a book from the shelf, opening a secret entrance to his system of tunnels and alleyways throughout the city, quickly disappearing into the darkness...
  8. Part 1 As soon as he awoke, Jason was already in a bad mood. He started stretching and made up his bed. It's been quite a while that the dojo closed and competitions cancelled. They said he was an excellent instructor, but nevertheless they couldn't keep him on, even for online classes. Without friends or family to rely on, he was at a loss about how to keep the lights on. To make himself forget his worries for a while, he opened his Instagram account. All of the posts were just him dutifully practicing and stretching. Nothing special, nothing fancy. But this time, there's something different that caught his eyes. There's a message notification. He never had that before. He opened it. Username anonkarate111 said "Hi, nice kicks. Do you make custom videos?" It's unlike Jason to reply to anonymous strangers on the internet, but he is heavily strapped for cash. As Jason stared at the message, a mix of curiosity and apprehension coursed through him. He tapped his fingers on the phone, his thoughts racing as he considered the proposition. Making custom videos? It wasn't exactly the path he had imagined to support himself, but desperate times called for unconventional measures. With a sigh, he typed out a cautious response, his fingers dancing across the screen. "Thanks for reaching out. What kind of custom videos are you looking for?" He hesitated for a moment before pressing the send button, wondering what he was getting himself into. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity as he waited for a reply from this mysterious anonkarate111. A few heartbeats later, the notification pinged again, signaling a new message from anonkarate111. Jason's pulse quickened as he opened the message. "I'm looking for videos of your feet, especially while you're practicing your kicks and stretches. I'll pay generously for each video." Jason's eyebrows furrowed as he read the words, a mixture of disbelief and incredulity flooding his mind. Feet videos? It seemed absurd and almost surreal. His martial arts skills were his pride and identity, and now they were being reduced to something so bizarre. He chewed on his lower lip, torn between his financial desperation and his sense of dignity. After a moment of contemplation, he responded, his words tinged with a hint of defiance. "I appreciate the offer, but my focus has always been on martial arts itself. I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with making videos of just my feet." He released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and waited, his gaze fixed on the screen as the seconds ticked away. The ball was now in anonkarate111's court, and Jason's future hung in the balance as he grappled with the consequences of his decision. The reply from anonkarate111 came quicker than Jason expected, their words concise but persuasive. "I understand your hesitation, Jason. But consider this – your talent deserves recognition, and this could be a way to showcase your unique skills in a new light. Think about the possibilities and the financial relief it could bring. I'm willing to pay handsomely for your videos." Jason leaned back, staring at the screen with a mix of conflicting emotions. Could he really compromise his principles for the sake of financial stability? The rational part of his mind battled with his pride and integrity. He imagined the bills piling up, the looming uncertainty, and the weight of his circumstances pressing down on him. With a heavy sigh, he typed his response, his fingers moving with a mixture of resignation and determination. "I'll admit, I'm in a tough spot right now. Let's discuss the details, but know that I don't want my identity be known." As he hit send, a sense of both relief and unease washed over him. He had taken the first step into a territory he never thought he'd enter. The decision had been made, and now he could only brace himself for what lay ahead. The screen remained silent for a moment before another message from anonkarate111 appeared. "Your privacy is important, Jason. I respect that. Let's proceed with discretion. I'll send you the details and payment information through a secure channel. Looking forward to working with you." Jason's heart raced as he read those words. He couldn't believe what he was about to do, yet there was a strange mix of relief and anticipation building within him. He had just taken a leap into the unknown, trading his pride for financial relief. He felt a twinge of guilt, as if he were betraying his true passion, but he couldn't deny the practicality of his decision. As he stared at the message, his mind whirred with thoughts of the future. He would have to find a way to compartmentalize this part of his life, to ensure it didn't tarnish his reputation as a martial artist. But for now, as the weight of his circumstances loomed large, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that this unconventional path might just be his lifeline. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. It was a new chapter, one he had never anticipated, and only time would tell where it would lead him.
  9. This story is violent and involves someone forcing themselves on another person, so don't read if that bothers you. Hey yall, this is the first ever thing I've written. I've been a long, long, long time lurker/reader and on a whim decided to give writing a shot. This was made with stories like Tony vs. Superman in mind, where iconic heroes get taken down easily. This story is the first of a series of Marvel stories I've been working on following one character, if people like it maybe I'll work through the other drafts and share them as well. ------------------------------------------------------------- Steve Rogers pulled his mask over his head and double checked himself in the mirror to make sure it was on straight. He was America’s champion and there should be no fault in his appearance, no line, no crease, no part out of place. His military mentality never left him, and it showed in his stature. Even though this was just a routine patrol on Manhattan’s Upper East side, he didn’t stray from his routine even slightly. Confident everything was in order Steve walked over to his pride and joy resting on the mantle beside the empty display where his costume would normally rest. Where Thor had his hammer, and Iron Man had his armor, Steve had his shield. It was a beacon of hope, strength, and resolve for the downtrodden. He picked up and latched onto the straps along his back and headed out to the basement level of Avengers Tower where he’d find his motorcycle to head out on. Not that he needed a vehicle, he could easily outrun it with his mammoth legs fueled by the serum in his veins. Truth be told, he simply enjoyed the feeling of riding it. It was already past nightfall, and as he zoomed down the streets glancing down alleyways and side streets as he passed he could hear the occasional cheer from fans and supporters as they zipped by. He was their hero and he would also fight for them. He allowed himself a small smirk in pride, only to be immediately distracted by a distant scream. Someone needed his help. The voice came from over a block away, but his trained sense of superhuman hearing left it ringing clear in his ears, even over the rumbling of his bike. It was definitely a masculine voice in distress. Sure enough, as he approached he could hear the sound of a man pleading for his life along one of the nearby alleyways. As he parked his bike around the corner he nearly flew off of it in the same moment entering the alley in the blink of an eye. In front of him there was a man being held off his feet by a much larger man in a black hoodie. Steve couldn’t make out much in the darkness, but the man was well over 6 feet and seemed quite built for his height. The smaller man was trying desperately to kick himself free from the man’s grip with his dangling feet, but he was clearly outmatched and stood no chance. Steve didn’t let a moment go to waste and called out to the man. “I think you should let him go,” he said, making sure to make it clear that what waited behind the man was no joke through his tone. The man didn’t move, he continued to hold the smaller in the air with one arm, an impressive display of strength, Steve realized, for a typical man. This man clearly worked hard on his strength. “Son, I said to put him down. I will not give you another warning, do not make me use force.” Steve said. To Steve’s surprise the man chuckled, the movement caused the man in his hands to shake violently just from the small movement. “Please, and what exactly are you going to do?” The man said, not even turning around to acknowledge the presence behind him. Steve tensed, he knew a fight was coming. ”I don’t think you realize who you are dealing with. If I must, I will put you down.” Steve said. The bigger man let out a small sigh, but instead of putting the other man down he moved his arm to the wall beside him, pinning the man in his hand. The smaller man let out gasp as the air flew out of his lungs for a moment from the force of the large hand pressed against his chest. It was an incredible display of strength, to not just pin a man with one arm, but move him entirely. Though smaller than them both, the man in his grip had to have weighed nearly 200 lbs. “I have an idea of who I’m dealing with,” the man in the hoodie said, still effortlessly holding the smaller man against the wall, “but I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with.” This was going nowhere, so Steve stepped toward the two. He thought of the need to bring out his shield, but given that this man was likely just human it wouldn’t be needed. He walked up to the back of the larger man, realizing now that the man was only a little shorter than his 6’5” height, but his back was nearly as wide as his own. If it was all muscle under that hoodie, the man must have sported an impressive physique. But Steve had both his superhuman strength, and his training to back him up. The average street villain stood no chance. Allowing one last chance for the thug before him to back down, Steve simply put a grip on the man’s shoulder, the one still holding the man up without any sign of strain. As he squeezed, he could feel the muscles tensed and flexed under his hand. The shoulder was as hard as steel, and even through the hoodie Steve could feel the heads of the man’s massive delt pressing against his grip. This thug was definitely hiding a lot under there. “If this is how it’s going to be, then I will just have to teach you a lesson. Can’t say I didn’t give you a sporting chance.” Steve said, allowing one final moment for things to go a better way. The large continued to hold still. Allowing his adrenaline to surge, Steve prepared to move fast and hard, tightening the grip on the man’s shoulder to pull him away from the smaller man and quickly down to the ground. His arm exploded in an undeniably stunning display of size and power, his battle hardened biceps nearly ripping out of his suit. He made a point not to try too hard, he certainly didn’t want to rip the man’s arm out. But the large man barely moved. His weight shifted from the force, but he never lost his balance. Under his hand Steve felt the man’s delt explode in response, nearly breaking his grip in the process. This man was strong, but he had faced plenty of strong foes before. He moved to wrap his arms around the man, barely able to get around the massive lats to pull the man into a suplex. Steve’s mighty pecs pressing into the thug’s lats in a secondary battle of muscle against muscle. Steve flexed them hard as poured his strength into the move, his suit tightening under the strain of his meaty chest expanding under it. Again the thug barely moved. This time the force was enough to cause him to stumble backward and nearly lose his pin on the man against the wall, but the thug quickly regained his footing. His lats tensed and flared in response, catching Steve off guard and nearly breaking his hold around the man’s torso, but Steve managed to hold on, sweat dampening the inside of his mask. The thug let out a long sigh, the movement nearly made Steve fall into the man as he exhaled. However it seemed Steve had prevailed as the thug released the smaller man, causing him to fall to the ground nearly face planting onto the concrete. “Guess I gotta make an effort here, since you won’t just let me be.” Despite the shock, the small man stuttered out a small thank you to Steve and skittered away. As the man hurried down the alley, the thug rolled back shoulders against Steve’s arms, the movement causing the rock hard muscles in his back to flex against Steve pecs. To Steve’s shock he quickly lost his grip on the thug, unable to pin down the expanding muscle in his arms. Steve took a step back to ready himself. The thug turned around, giving Steve the first look of his face under the hood. The man was younger, likely in his late 20s. His jaw was chiseled and square and sported a line of hair along his chin and a thin mustache, not enough to make for a full goatee. His eyes were dark, and as they focused in on Steve he caught a glimpse of shock in them. Perhaps this thug had finally seen the error of his ways. But the shock was replaced with a grin as the thug chuckled. “Fuck! I was hoping it was you, Captain fucking America,” the thug said, “Damn, looks like wishes can come true. I’ve been hoping to put myself to the test. You can only go so far setting record after record in the weightroom. I needed a real challenge.” The thug pulled down his hood and gave Steve a once over with his eyes. Steve had already regained his composure and of course made sure to give the thug a stunning display of his physique, hoping to dissuade the man from further conflict. But the man nearly doubled over in laughter in response. “Holy fuck, Cap, you might be big, but if that was the kinda power you have behind those muscles, you ain’t shit.” The thug stepped closer to Steve, his pecs nearly coming in contact. Cap’s entire world was eclipsed by the sheer size of the man before him, but Steve didn’t drop his stance. “Oh right, it’s obvious who you are, but you don’t know me. I’m not anyone really, don’t worry, just call me CJ.” CJ? Steve had never heard of any villain street level or otherwise that went by this name, surely this just wasn’t a normal man. There’s no way someone with his strength couldn’t either be empowered, or gifted much like Steve was. “Look, I don’t care who you are, son, but I can’t leave you here causing harm. I’m going to have to take you in.” Steve said. CJ let out another chuckle, “Alright Captain Weakshit, if you think you’ve got it in you, but let me give you a better idea of what you’re up against.” Steve took a step back as the man moved to unzip his hoodie. He immediately noted the chiseled upper chest that revealed itself, a light layer of chest hair poking through the shirt underneath. CJ seemed to struggle getting the jacket off, but managed without ripping it. He sported a thin green tank top, stretched as thin as paper against his skin. CJ was massive, his pecs bulged through the fabric nearly ready to rip it to shreds, Steve could make out the veins snaking down the large man’s neck and down his chest through it. A thin tattoo Steve couldn’t quite make out was along the man’s right pec. Alongside his chest, CJ’s arms rippled with power and were no less shredded. A large bulging vein ran across each bicep, looking as if they’d jump out of his skin. Steve also got a good look at the man’s shoulders and realized he wasn’t wrong about them. CJ sported boulders for delts and even at rest Steve could make out striations and a roadmap of veins. Steve nearly lost himself in the stunning display of muscle before him, CJ was not just huge, he was incredibly lean, no wonder he packed so much strength under that physique. Steve let out a small smirk, “look, you’re clearly a big man. I applaud you for your training, but I’ve taken down plenty of big foes. This won’t be a challenge.” Steve said in an effort to pump up his own confidence, but somehow he felt an ounce of envy at the other man’s imposing display of muscle. CJ smiled, a look which sent a shock down Steve’s spine. CJ was handsome and every bit a fine specimen of a man. Steve was straight, but there was no denying what was before him. CJ’s voice invaded his thoughts, “Fuck man, I am going to enjoying breaking you. Somehow, I know you will too in the end.” CJ chuckled and tossed his hoodie aside. Before it even hit the ground CJ unleashed a punch right at Steve’s gut. The movement was so fast that Steve nearly didn’t have a chance to react, managing to twist his torso enough to dodge the blow, CJ’s fist glancing against his suit. But before Steve could take advantage of the miss, CJ had already found his footing and came back with another swing, this time at Steve’s chest. There was no time to dodge this one, and the fist slammed into Steve’s chest like a freight train. It knocked Steve completely off his feet and he fell back against the concrete, skidding. Pain shot through the right side of his chest, how did a punch like that hurt so much? Steve threw himself back onto his feet in a kick up, already readying his stance to fight back when he was stopped at the sight of CJ simply standing there, both of his arms raised beside his head in a double bicep pose. Each bicep rose to a peak that looked like they could cut diamonds between each well defined head. Veins rippled across each arm in a stunning display of power. Steve guessed CJ’s arms to be well over 20” without an ounce of fat on them. Almost as big as his own. And yet, he had knocked him down with a single punch, perhaps he simply wasn’t ready for it. But the sight before him made Steve doubt himself. “You couldn’t even take one punch from these Cap,” CJ said, “I seriously thought this was going to be a challenge to test all the work I’ve put this body through, but you’re just a weak little shit.” Steve didn’t know how to respond, how could this man be so cocky? He was Steve Rogers, Captain fucking America. “Fuck it dude,” CJ said while still holding the pose, “come at me with all you got, try to break this.” Steve questioned whether CJ’s biceps grew larger after the taunt, but it had to have been his imagination, they had to have been fully flexed. “I don’t know who you are, but to think you can best an Avenger will have you leaving here sorely mistaken.” Steve shot back, regaining his confidence. Steve charged at CJ, who still was holding his mighty arms up high. As he reached the beast before him, Steve channeled the entire force of his body into one massive punch at CJ’s abs. Steve’s quads exploded as they braced for the blow, flaring so hard he heard the seams of his leggings let out a slight rip as they gave way. His eyes honed in on the target, and just before his fist landed he saw 8 bricks of muscle wall up through the green fabric of CJ’s tank top. A flicker of doubt flashed in Steve’s mind. His punch slammed into CJ so hard it Steve thought he might punch a hole through the man, but as his fist hit CJ’s wall of muscle pain immediately flooded his arm. CJ didn’t move an inch, and the entire force of the blow rebounded back, nearly shattering the bones in Steve’s fist and arm, saved only by the density of his superhuman skeleton thanks to the serum. Steve doubled over from the pain almost immediately, letting out a chilling scream, nearly falling back again on his ass. Steve could feel his arm going numb as the pain subsided, and he realized he was kneeling on one knee right in front of CJ, his face right at the big man’s abdomen. His eyes widened as he saw that he hadn’t even left a mark. CJ’s abs were still tightly flexed in a display of triumph. Steve looked up to see CJ staring down at him, his arms still held high, maintaining his double bicep pose. The sight of the manbeast before him made Steve feel tiny. CJ flashed another handsome smile down at Steve. “You better get used to being down there. That’s where you belong, you know?” CJ laughed, causing his abs to relax and bringing Steve’s gaze back to them. “The look on your face man, I wish I could frame it. Captain America brought to his knees and I didn’t even lay a finger on you. I bet you’re dying to see what stopped you cold.” CJ lifted up the bottom of his tank top with both hands, slowly bringing into view the wall of muscle that had nearly shattered the hero’s arm. Steve’s vision was filled with CJ’s abs of steel, each muscle a well defined brick. A light layer of black hair ran down the middle and across his lower abdominals, trailing down into CJ’s pants. They made his abs appear even more defined. Then CJ flexed. Steve's jaw nearly hit the floor as the muscles in front of his face exploded, he didn’t even realize abs could explode. What was a well defined 8 pack was now 10 boulders of harder than steel tight muscle. Veins popped out along the side and down CJ’s lower abs, again pulling Steve gaze downward. CJ noticed and began twisting and flexing his torso to show off his obliques, pulling Steve’s gaze back up. Every inch of him was perfectly cut as if chiseled from stone. CJ could rival even the mighty Thor in a battle of physiques. Instead of lowering his shirt back down, CJ ripped it half, shredded it like tissue and finally unveiled his entire upper body. All that was left was a tiny gold chain across his neck, looking as if it would snap at any slight movement. “Dear God…” was all Steve could muster as he took in the beast towering above him. “Not a god man,” CJ said, “but I guess to a weak fuck like you I might as well be.” The cockiness in CJ’s voice woke Steve from his fog and he shook his head. Perhaps he would need to call backup for this one. CJ was clearly some sort of otherworldly threat that he would need the rest of the team to handle. Steve readied himself for a sprint off the ground, deciding to retreat back to his bike and seek allies, but before he could even raise himself off the ground CJ slammed his knee right into the hero’s face. The movement was so sudden Steve hadn’t seen it coming and was immediately flown onto his back a few feet away from the blow. He slammed back down on the ground and his vision filled with stars. “You don’t get to walk away from this. I’m not done with you.” CJ said. CJ stepped over the dazed hero below him and wrapped his hand around Steve’s neck. The hero was still trying to process what had happened when he felt himself being lifted off the ground. CJ was picking him up with just one arm… exactly as he had done to the small man before. As the realization set in Steve felt his feet dangling off the ground as he was held above CJ. Steve tried to toss quick, strong blows wherever he could, CJ’s neck, his pecs, the forearm gripping his neck, but nothing seemed to phase the big man. He then grabbed onto CJ’s arm, trying in vain to pry himself out, but instead finding himself getting lost in the man’s titanic arm, hard and immovable under his hands. CJ laughed at the feeble attempts by Steve to free himself and with his free hand CJ pulled off Steve’s mask, revealing the face of the blue eyed blonde underneath. CJ took in the look on Steve’s face, blood now running down his chin from the blow he just gave him. The hero was in a mix of shock, confusion, and fear. It was time to completely break whatever was left. CJ brought Steve closer, still being dangled in the air as if a little kid and leaned into his ear. CJ’s warm breath washed over Steve’s face and his nose was filled with the scent of the man’s musk. “I really am not a god, or an alien, or even a supersoldier. I’m just a guy who’s been putting himself through hell to become the best of the best.” CJ let out another chuckle. “Actually, you’re gonna get a kick from this one. How old are you again? 35? 40? Oh right, you’re the man out of time… so what 100 or some shit? Well Cap, I hate to say it, but you just got embarrassed by a…..” Steve didn’t even get a chance to process what hit him. It flooded his mind and the realization was instant. The man who was effortlessly holding like a ragdoll wasn’t a man, but a kid. Not even out of high school. 18 years old, the words hitting him again. “Fuck! There’s that look again, you’re so fucking stunned. We didn’t even get to fight and I can see I did a number on you!” CJ lowered Steve back down to the ground, stopping only to put his hand back on the hero’s shoulder. Again, with an effortless display of power the young man forced Steve back to his knees, the hero still stunned over being bested by a teen. CJ was as big as his supersoldier physique, just as shredded and ripped, and yet somehow Steve’s strength wasn’t even an ounce of the young adonis’. Talk about winning the gene lottery. He was Captain America. He trained his body over decades and was powered by a steroid that gave him size and strength that rivaled gods. Yet CJ had already surpassed him, and at such an age. He couldn’t fathom how such a possibility could even occur. Steve was so lost in thought that he hadn’t realized that CJ no longer had a hold on him. He wasn’t brought back to Earth until he noticed CJ had begun unfastening the button of his jeans. CJ pulled down his pants with a struggle over his mammoth quads, allowing them to rest at his knees. He hadn’t left his underwear on. A million more thoughts flooded Steve’s mind. His brain was trying to process everything happening to him. The wave of testosterone-fueled scent of CJ that pummeled his senses. the massive mounds of flesh that made up CJ’s incredible quads, so big they would easily dwarf the hero’s own impressive trunks. And snaking with ropes of throbbing veins barely masked by the thick black hair all over them. The thought of why Steve hadn’t fled already, why was he still on his knees in front of this young man? Lastly, the sight of CJ’s manhood filled his brain. Steve prided himself in being the peak of humanity, in every sense. But CJ sported a cock as big as his own, yet he could tell it was still soft. 10 inches of muscle meat swung before his eyes, crowned with a thin bush of dark hair. He finally got to see just where CJ’s treasure trail went. CJ admired the hero’s stunned face below him. Steve was speechless and like a deer in headlights. CJ rewarded the man by repeatedly flexing his quads, watching how the hero’s eyes would widen each time his huge tear drops of muscles seem to blow up to twice the size and the striations cut through the skin. The sight caused blood to fill his swaying monster cock, its size growing to a similarly impressive display. As his cock nearly reached its full length the head grazed against Steve’s lips and up his nose until finally reaching its full mast in a stunning display of perfect manhood. The throbbing cock filled Steve’s vision as it bounced up and down. “Captain America, look at what you’ve done to me, holy shit.” CJ let out a laugh. “One punch from this arm knocked you on your ass.” CJ flexed his arm not even looking to see if Steve was watching, he was in awe of his own size as he watched his arm. “These lats and pecs broke your grip without even a sweat” CJ moved to flaring out his lats and causing his pecs to explode below him, completely blocking out the view of the defeated hero under them. He wished he could take a picture of the display just to witness how impressive it was. “One hit to these abs nearly shattered your arm.” CJ looked down at his abs as he flexed them again. Running his hands down them, feeling the power and strength held behind the wall of muscle. Past them all he could see that his massive cock was throbbing, still inches above the face of the fallen hero below him. It filled CJ with pleasure and caused his cock to send out a huge glob of precum as he flexed his muscle cock. “And one hit from this leg showed you that you are nothing compared to me.” CJ focused on his right quad, again admiring the way it seemed to defy reality as he repeatedly flexed it. The whole time it caused his cock to bounce and throb, he could feel it hitting Steve’s face again and again as he flexed. In CJ’s mind he began to wonder if he really was a god. He defeated one of the most well known and beloved heroes without even trying. As CJ turned back to the dazed hero the sight made him chuckle again. Steve’s jaw was open and his face was now covered in the young god’s precum, another drop had just landed on the hero’s nose, oozing down Steve’s lips. Before the hero could get a taste of the god before him, CJ thrusted his hips forward, placing the head of a massive cock on top of Steve’s face. He flexed his cock again causing a massive stream of precum to land right in the hero’s eye. The hero began to flinch but was stopped by two hands behind his head holding him in place. CJ began to thrust his cock up and down and grind his cock against the hero. The force of which would have caused Steve’s head to bobble up and down if he hadn’t been held in place by CJ’s strong hands, the muscle teen’s balls repeatedly smacking against his chin. There was nothing the hero could do at this point. Steve even attempted to use his strength to stand up in hopes of an escape, but as he tensed he could feel the strength of CJ against him and knew it wasn’t worth the risk of hurting himself fighting against the young god. Instead he gave into his other desires and began running his tongue up and down the stud’s massive shaft pressed against his face. CJ immediately let out a moan and pulled the hero from his cock. “That’s right Cap, you know your place. I’m the fucking future of the human race, you are nothing compared to me. I could snap your neck right now if I wanted, but I won’t just so you can have the opportunity to worship the man you always wished you could be.” “CJ FUCKING Stedman” CJ screamed, it shocked Steve how it came out of nowhere. “Remember my fucking name, CJ Stedman is the one who broke Captain America.” Before the beaten hero could fathom what was happening CJ shoved his entire cock down the hero’s throat. The force and speed shocked Steve’s system as his jaw nearly snapped from being stretched to its limit. Tears ran down his face from the pain. Choking, Steve tried to pull away out of reflex, but CJ’s sheer power kept him in check. CJ was lost in himself and how he had completely ruined one of the world’s bravest heroes. It sent him into overdrive and like a pure animal he started to face fuck the hero with such force he thought it might drive a hole through the man’s skull, but CJ didn’t care. As his balls smacked against Steve’s chin like a jackhammer, all CJ could think about was himself. No other man came close to him. He was everything. Massive. Ripped to shreds. Stronger than anyone. And he was still growing, getting better every day. He was only eighteen and still had so much potential. The world wasn’t ready for CJ Stedman, but they would know him now. CJ was filled with ecstasy as he worshiped himself and it sent him over the edge. His massive muscle cock exploded in the hero’s mouth, his massive load shooting straight into Steve’s stomach. CJ’s cock shot so hard and his cum was so hot it burned the hero’s insides. In his muscle crazed orgasm CJ pulled his cock out of the hero, surprised to see the man still intact, but Steve’s face was covered in blood that poured out his nose. CJ continued to shoot load after load all over Steve’s face leaving almost no inch of it clean. As his cock spewed its final shots, he smacked the hero’s face with it. Smearing the mixture of blood and semen. He then let the hero go and Steve fell to the side, having been completely knocked out by the relentless onslaught to his skull. . CJ looked down as the last drop of his cock fell down onto the unconscious hero. It landed right on the iconic shield still attached to Steve’s suit splattering against it leaving a reddish streak. “Shit, you didn’t even get to use this.” CJ laughed, picking up the shield. “Don’t they say this shit is as unbreakable as you?” CJ smirked, and the rush started to hit him again causing his cock to harden. He ran his finger across the red streak his blood mixed cum left on this shield. Holding it in both hands CJ held it above his head. In one mighty swing he brought Captain America’s shield down on his now rock hard cock, snapping the vibranium infused weapon in half. With a smirk, CJ tossed the pieces onto the fallen hero, his mind already chasing thoughts of his next conquest. “Maybe I am a god, why not go find one and see how I match up?” CJ laughed, pulled up his pants and walked out of the alley. Not even giving the limp body he left behind a second thought.
  10. After my mom passed away, I had been raised in foster care. I didn’t remember my father too much because he was a drug addict, young, and didn’t support us at all. When my mother passed, my father decided he was unfit to take care of me and put me in foster care. I was 7 or 8 then. On my 18th birthday, the foster home threw me a huge party. Usually we have to leave the home when we turn 18, but I have built up a great relationship with my foster family, and they allowed me to stay for a couple more weeks until I got situated. When the crowd cleared, they pulled me into the dining room “Hey Bryan, we have a little surprise for you.” Already I was a little apprehensive because I wasn’t expecting a huge gift. They didn’t have much money. “What is it?” “Well, we know we said you could stay here as long as you like, but your father actually contacted us and he would like to take you home with him.” I was already furious. I don’t remember my father much, but I resented him for what he did to me. Having a dead beat dad may have been better than having no father at all. “I don’t want to see him!” I yelled. “He’s changed.” my foster mother said “I’d say” my foster dad smirked. “Jim stop. Bryan, he says he’s sorry and wants to make it up to you. Actually he’s in the living room now waiting for you. He asked us to soften the blow by telling you this beforehand” They could tell I was already upset, but I knew I am asking a lot by staying in the home, so I went down with them to the living room. When I reached the entry way, my jaw dropped. There was my dad, and he was enormous. He was still tall like I remember, but he was nowhere near the skinny drugged out dead beat I recalled. My dad had muscle on top of muscle. Huge boulder shoulder capped a wide frame. Arms that peaked, pushing his shirt sleeve to the max. Thick cords of veins pushing through the fabric. I traced his forearms with my eyes and then back up again to his shelf pecs that bunched together with each exhale. I could see 8 perfectly defined abs THROUGH his shirt tapering to a tiny waist that then exploded outwards as his quads completed the display. “Hey son” he said sheepishly “Hhhhhhey dad” He walked over to me and put his mammoth arms around me in a hug. “I’m so sorry for not being there for you. I wasn’t ready to be a father that you deserved, but that’s all going to change now. I am here for you for whatever you need. He smiled as he saw a tear form in my eyes. We drove to his house where he set up a room for me in the basement. It wasn’t fully done as there were still some old oil drums and tools that were strewn about the place. “I know it isn’t much, but I will fix it up for you in no time.” I couldn’t help myself “Dad, you are so big!” He gave me a smile then walked over to me and got down on one knee. He grabbed my hand then flexed his bicep right in front of me. A huge mountain formed, snaked in thick veins that spiraled all the way up to his manly hands. He then guided my hand over the peak, until I squeezed, unable to make a dent. “No son, I am fucking massive.” My bulge started to grow right there in front of him. I was so embarrassed as my dad looked down and smiled. “Don’t worry. You see son, I know I haven’t been a good father to you, but that’s all going to change. Over the last couple years, I have been watching you without you knowing. I know what you like, what you don’t like. I know you love muscle from the magazines I saw in your room when I broke into the foster house a couple years ago. I have honed myself to be everything you’ve ever dreamed about. I swallowed hard as he continued. “I also know that you are gay son. I know that you have always liked men, especially men with muscle. And I know that you have been bullied for it. You will find someone that accepts you for who you are, but until then, you can feast your eyes on me whenever you want.” He then looked at his bicep and flexed hard bringing the sleeve of the to almost to the breaking point. He then turned his wrist inwards as we heard a loud TEAR exposing the shredded split peak. He then brought his arm to his mouth and started licking and sucking it putting his hand behind his head as he moaned. He then looked me again and smiled. “Bryan, I will be everything you ever wanted in a dad and more. Nothing is off limits…you ask and you shall receive.” ———————————————— I could barely sleep. I couldn’t believe what happened. My dad, who I haven’t seen in years, just shows up to take care of me. AND…he’s a flawless man of my dreams. Fuck, the way he slobbered over that bicep made my dick so hard. It’s 9AM and I can already hear him in the kitchen. I had to run down. He was there in a skin tight t-shirt, cut off shorts already smelling fresh and clean at the table. “Breakfast is served” he said. The table looked like a banquet. I finished eating as I continued to eye fuck my dad. “So tell me about Dylan” he said. “Dylan? How could you know about Dylan?” Dylan was an asshole. Wrestling jock at my school that found me checking out dudes in a muscle magazine and hasn’t let me forget it since. He makes fun of me every chance he gets for being gay. I could see my dad smile as I recalled the horror. At that moment, we heard the doorbell ring. “I hope you don’t mind” my dad said with a little chuckle. My dad went in the other room, and I heard him open the door. “Dylan! Thanks for coming over to help me clean out the basement.” “No problem sir, although it doesn’t look like you need much help.” He said “Nonsense” as they walked down to the basement. I could still hear them talking. “Looks like you got a body on you too. Let me see them abs!” I stepped down a couple steps into the basement to peer through the railing at the scene. Dylan lifted his shirt to my dad. “Haha cute.” My dad said. “Hey Bryan! Get down here.!” I started to walk down and Dylan saw me and gave me a look. “Hey what’s going on here!” He said as he dropped his shirt down. “Oh, I see you two know each other. No bother. Hey Bryan, Dylan here thinks he has some abs. Which do you think are better?” He lifts up the front of Dylan’s shirt to show his abs again. “This pathetic flat six pack? Or this?” He said as he slowly lifted up the front of his shirt exposing deep row after row of sculpted ab bricks. He then exhaled deeply carving out 8 flawless slabs shrinking to an almost nonexistent waist. He pinches his thin skin as he turned to Dylan and said, “Shredded” I then said under my breath, “oh fuck” My dad laughed a little “that’s what I thought. You see Dylan, my boy here says you have been nagging him for being gay. Well, you are going to show him you are a much bigger cock sucker than he is.” He then grabbed Dylan’s shoulder and brought his face right up to his and commanded “Blow me.” “Wwwwhat? Nnnnno” Dylan said shaking. “Dylan, it wasn’t a choice.” My dad then walked up to the oil drum on the ground and wrapped his arms around it, hoisting it up so his back was to us. Then slowly I could see the muscles in his shoulders and back ripple as the shirt began to tear down his lats exposing his thick back. Cords of veins across paper thin skin as we started to hear metal SCREAMING. Then a loud crash as the metal drum fell to the ground, caved in the middle. My dad turned around and pulled his tattered clothes off of him. His body more ripped and defined than any bodybuilder on stage. My dad walked to the couch and sat down telling me to sit next to him. I did as he said as he put his arm around my shoulders and tussled my hair. He looked down and saw my bulge and said “I see you got some of my genes in the size department.” He paused a little and repeated “Some” He reached down to his shorts and tore off the elastic as well as his jock and out flopped the most massive soft dick I have ever seen. Even soft, it was bigger than mine and covered in veins both thick and small. It hung down like a thick pendulum. He looked back at Dylan. “See that oil drum? The same thing is going to happen to your chest unless you blow the FUCK out of this cock” Dylan started shaking as he ran over between my dad’s legs and started to engulf his dick. My dad looked at me as he moaned, biting his lip. He put his hand on the back of Dylans head and said to me “listen to his jaw stretch Bryan” as his dick expanded his jaw. Dylan tried to pull away but my dad’s hand was too strong. “Stream it son.” I reached into Dylan’s pocket and grabbed his phone and opened Facebook to live stream it on his page. My dad worked his cock into Dylan’s mouth usied his head to move him back and forth. My dad played a part in the background saying things like “yeah that’s it” and “you’re so good to daddy” and then it happened… My dad ROARED as he unleashed a torrent of cum down Dylan’s throat . Orgasming for like 30 seconds pump after pump until it started coming out his nose and the sides of his mouth until finally my dad said “Aww you did so much better than last time.” I cut the feed and then my dad pulled out with a wet THWOP…cum still leaking out of his dick like a faucet until a puddle formed. Dylan coughed up cum that got into his lungs, gasping for breath, My dad reached down and picked up Dylan by the collar and lifted him up, feet dangling. “If I ever hear you tease my boy again, this will be like a walk in the park. Now get the FUCK out. Dylan grabbed his things and ran out faster than I have ever seen him move. My dad sat next to me and puts his arm around me. “I don’t think he will be making fun of you anytime soon Bryan.” I reached my arms around my dad and hugged him tightly. I could actually feel him smile
  11. Heya y'all! It's my first time actually posting anything on this site (that i can remember, at least) and the first time I try my hand at writing this kind of story. but since I read a lot of content from lots of authors both from here and from the previous website, I figured it was time to give a small fraction of it back. Fair warning; English isn't my mothertongue, so any mistakes are entirely mine! Without further ado, here's part one! I hope you'll enjoy it. Male Hunger Part one The humid air of his room had gotten warmer. Bran huffed and licked his lips, tasting the salty sweat racing down his head, hips rocking, his wide hands wildly jerking off his thick cock. He groaned lowly, racking a cum-covered palm through his short hair and started slapping his dick on his 6-pack, splashing precum everywhere. After a few beats, his heavy balls surged higher.. And Bran stopped, out of breath, hands off his penis, his body tensing, muscles flexing hard to keep himself from cumming. After a few long seconds, he brought a veiny hand to his mouth and licked the pre off his thick fingers, one after the other. The taste of pre and the weight of each rough fingers in his mouth had him shuddering so much his eyes closed. Bran roughly pinched his nips and grunted quite loudly as saliva filled his mouth. His other hand skimmed down his thick pecs, along the valleys of his abs, to finally grasp at his thick shaft. He fisted his dick and – the immediate, overwhelming pleasure had him gasping out and snorting air back in, nostrils wide, hips pumping- he distantly recognized the potent scent of his own musky sweat and semen, different, stronger than ever before – He needed more. “Fuuck…,” he growled out, kicking his muscled legs further apart. He needed just a bit more. His other hand left his fluid-covered pecs to tug at and massage his bloated balls, the sensations shooting up sparks up his body. They felt so good, so full, he threw his head back on his pillow; his pre-covered hair coating them. He rocked his hips harder, the sound of his bed hitting the wall getting louder. He distantly heard some of his dorm neighbors hit the wall back but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a single fuck; his attention solely focused on pleasuring his thick, weeping cock. “Fuck!,” he snarled, teeth bared, as release started sweeping through his body. He tensed ever more, both hands tight on his shaft now, tense, striated pecs protruding more and hiding the root of his dick. Not that it mattered; his eyes were focused on the way his cock thickened even more, despite the two fists holding it. Long moments passed, during which his heavy balls, usually hanging low, pulled up and sent its fiery magma up. Bran panted wildly, wide eyes almost rolling backwards, as the first load of semen burst out and arched up the wall behind him, almost splashing on the wall. Some of the thick magma dropped back down and landed on his face, in his mouth, in his hair and on his pecs. After a few tense seconds, as the thicker and warmer liquid and its unusually strong taste coated his taste-buds, a second explosion of semen went out. It did much the same as the first. The third was much the same. “Mmhhh… So good...,” Bran moaned lewdly, in a pleasure-filled haze, as his body alternated between tensing and releasing loads of thick cum over and over. He groaned some more at the ninth; the final shot, the rest of his release dribbling out thickly and utterly flooding his abs. Still in a daze, heart beating loudly in his ears, Bran stroked his heaving belly, sliding the thick white goo over his wide torso, up his neck, down to his pubes. He thoroughly coated his still-rock-hard penis and huge, heavy balls in the stuff. Then he scooped as much as he could and licked it up with one hand, the other dedicating itself to playing with his hard cock. After a while, Bran’s stomach cramped. He was quite hungry but couldn’t be bothered to move. But the sleepiness he expected after such a release didn’t come: he started feeling antsy, as though he had had too much caffeine. His cramping stomach decided him; he would eat something, maybe watch something mindless on the TV, and then he’d go back to bed. But as he got up, something felt off; but Bran shrugged the idea away. He did the same with the vague idea of putting on clothes; it was too much trouble, besides no one was there to care besides himself. And he felt quite warm; he was still sweating. The fact he used to care a lot more about not being buck-naked in the dorm, even in his room, a few weeks ago amused him distantly. His feet thudded and left perspiration on the floor as he left the cum-covered bed and wall behind him. He felt something warm hit his legs and snorted in amusement; his hard-on was still leaking. Feeling even hungrier, Bran headed straight to the small fridge and opened the door. The sudden light had him squinting -the sudden cold surprised him – as he bent his head to search for something good to eat. The cold felt good against his warm flesh and he shuddered in delight. He reached for a can of coke, rose back up, and drank it in a few big gulps. He drank another, and another after that. Then, stomach feeling less empty, but still needing fuel, he went back down and was about to take another can when he noticed something and huffed out a short laugh. “Fuckin’ hell,” he whispered. So focused he had been on filling his belly, he hadn’t really noticed that his still leaking hard-on had coated some stuff in pre. He smirked, shook his head and took out some leftover – spaghetti bolognese – to heat up while he turned on the light, searched for a fork and a big plate. After serving himself, he set himself in front of the TV and, before turning it on, he couldn’t help but checking himself out. His reflection showed him as he was; sitting on a slightly-too-small sofa, large arms bursting out off thickly muscled shoulders and traps rising high of his bull neck. Big legs spread wide, cock high and thick, still dripping, heavy balls low and resting on the sofa. His tight musclebound gut and the V-shape low on his hips partially hidden by his wide and 10 inches long cock, his tits hanging low on a decent pair of round pecs, biceps close to 17 inches and veins and striations both easy to see on his 6’3 frame… All of those were pretty good reasons for the deep satisfaction he felt at looking at himself, a smirk reflecting such masculine pride tugging at his lips. His cock pulsed heavily as pre made his abs glisten and- his stomach cramped: he took a big bite of his meal, burped loudly – the coke – huffed out a laugh, and, feeling a bit more satisfied but still quite ravenous, he demolished his meal. But before he knew it, he was back at the fridge, pulling out enough to make another, albeit bigger meal – he was that hungry. But a man his size needed to eat quite a lot to stay so big. He smiled. “’m damn glad Ian’s not back yet,” he snickered, “he’d freak if he saw me right now”. He slapped his belching cock absently, a meaner smirk on his lips. “Though I know how I’d shut him up, mmffhhh…”, Bran closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, imagination running wild, his cock pulsing harder. Bran then smiled and stole an under-cooked chicken breast from the frying pan, too hungry to wait any longer. He munched on it, muscled jaw breaking it down fast, and his strong neck moving as he swallowed, eyes glazing over in pleasure, drool dropping from his lips. Too busy eating, he didn’t notice the bigger veins appearing all over his studly body. He was too taken up by the need to fill his void-like belly. Meanwhile, the scent of his body, of male pleasure and exertion slowly but silently got stronger in the warm and humid air of his room.
  12. QuoteTheRaven

    Simb Bakkani Super Heavyweight (Completed)

    Mossano inherited Muscle Pride Rock Gym in Bangkok. He became an IFBB Pro, then Mr. Thailand, and then opened Muscle Pride Rock Gym 2. At 21, Simb was born. Muscle Pride Rock Gym sang with celebration. Patrons — thin and lithe to well-muscled hunks in string tanks and hoodies — gathered around he and his wife Sarai. Mossano’s pharmacological coach held Simb aloft. The gym speakers played joyous music filled with rhythms and flutes. As a kid, Simb spent his time running around Muscle Pride Rock with his best friend Naylon. Everyone knew them. All treated them with joy. Simb had no thoughts about his place in the world. CHAPTER ONE — BETRAYAL Now, on a day in Simb’s eighteenth year, Simb and Naylon lounge near the juice bar. As they lounge, Simb’s Uncle Scarab shows up. Scarab is seven years older than Simb, and devotedly bodybuilds. He is outwardly obsequious toward Simb while also giving off a resentful vibe. Simb thinks that’s the way for uncles on diets, restrictions, and heavy lifting schedules. Scarab talks to the teens. He asks them what kind of music they like. When they mention a local group, he tells them it’s a huge coincidence that that group is playing at a place called Parrot Bar. He says he has passes to that bar and that they can see their favorite band if they leave to go now. The guys can’t believe the coincidence and want to go and so they do. The whole thing is a lie. When they get there, instead of saying Parrot Bar it says Parrot Gay Bar. This gives pause, only because they are not into sexual things yet. But they want to see the band. Inside, there is no band. Instead two twenty year old hoodlums pay attention to them. The hoodlums are so skinny ribs show through their tees. They are as heavy-headed as hyenas with open-hanging mouths. “We are Shen and Ban,” the jackally two snigger, “You are the son of the best muscle man in Thailand aren’t you? We recognize you. Are you here because?…. because you like sex with males, no?” Simb and Naylon feel uneasy, more uneasy even than from the dancers grinding crotch-packed near-naked muscles. Simb and Naylon try to pretend they are cool as it is important to accept all people. That is what Mossano and Simb’s mother Sarai always teach. The manager at the Parrot Gay Bar notices the youth and suspects something is amiss. He calls the MRP Gym and the manager, Zazar, answers. Zazar, who is homosexual himself and expressive in his personality, flaps off to tell Mossano right away. Mossano goes to the bar and rescues the boys. Mossano is upset with Simb for going to a drinking place and one that focuses on any kind of sex. He scolds Simb and Simb feels bad about his judgment. But Mossano forgives Simb. Mossano also explains to Simb that some of Mossano’s best friends are gay. He adds, “with the genetics you have from me and mom, I want you to end up my size and condition. If you do as I do, eating, the heavy iron lifting, the gear.” Mossano continues, “What I want to say is when you grow up and become as I am, you will play a special role — pedestaled by men and women, wanted by all.” Simb says ok. He doesn’t know what that all means or whether he wants that. He’s still a kid. Drives can be dormant until nature fully spigots testosterone and awakens a man to his real wants. However, meanwhile, during Mossano and Simb’s conversation, Scarab has found the 20-year-old shady fag beanpoles. You might think he is there to berate them and force them to understand more about what is appropriate with people of different ages. But Scarab has a nefarious character and only self-serving purposes in mind. He has designs — designs of no longer being lesser in his brother’s shadow, to usurping his brother’s titles, to gaining his brother’s businesses and all that his brother has. As part of his plan to do that, he makes an overture to the youth Shen and Ban. He will freely service them at MRP Gym. But they must help frame Mossano for a crime. The two are alarmed at the idea of doing something of the kind. But then they feel Scarab’s enlarged biceps that rise as balls, hard as rock. Scarab talks dominant fetished stuff about how swollen his pecs are, how his ass jacks and how intensely good he feels. He tells them he must grow bigger, dominating little fucks, that he’ll make his brother seem fucking small. He wants to transform the two weasels too. He thinks they could all fuck each other as big muscle men. The two hypnotized fags both are almost orgasming as he makes their dicks so hard with his dreams. They agree to help Scarab. In the setup to the framing scam, Scarab goes to Simb the next week. Scarab dishonestly tells Simb that Mossano wants Simb to take a package of steroids (legal in Thailand) to the other branch of the gym. Simb is only 18 and never been given a task like this before so he is uncertain at first. But Scarab is convincing. Simb heads out in the streets with the messenger bag unaware. What it really contains is cocaine, heroine and drugs heavily punishable even for someone his age to possess. As soon as Simb has left, Scarab gathers up Shen and Ban and they go to Mossano. Scarab acts as though he’s collared the gay twenty year olds, physically showing his superiority to the pimpled scarecrows, manhandling them with true get-off brawn, and acting as though he’s threatening them and forcing them to confess what they will say. They almost give the whole thing away because Mossano’s muscles are so beautiful. His abs rise and fall, coil and fold as he talks. They have never seen the great Mossano, champion of all of Thailand and seventh place finisher in the Olympia of the world. Mossano is bigger than they imagined a person could be. They’ve never seen someone of such impossibly increased size — shoulders that mountain and arm girth 20+ inches around. In front of the steroid-massed giant, scrawny little undeveloped Shen and Ban suddenly stiff solid ones in their pants. But Mossano is so familiar and used to that kind of thing that it doesn’t register as a warning flag. Shen and Ban tell Mossano, as though confessing, that they have given Simb an illegal package, using Simb as an unsuspecting mule. But, they explain, he has to be “saved” for they’ve heard a police trap is set for the other gym. Mossano is furious. He will charge to help his son. He roars at the scum that have come to him. Scarab sneers and growls at the scum too. He enjoys the chance to act vile towards anyone, even his own accomplices — getting a charge always to be superior where he can be. He holds each of the guys hands behind their respective backs, lusty with the comprehension that he literally has the physical power to restrain them simultaneously each with a single fist. The muscles in Scarab’s shoulders flex in displaying expression as he shifts to subtle poses — pose after pose — while he holds them. Scarab then says aloud to Mossano, “Have no fear, brother, these two drug dealers will join us and I will force them to play their role.” Then Scarab smiles with a truly carnivorous look. His traps pop definitionally around his neck. Mossano says “good.” And then before they leave MRP GYM, he gives the keys for both gyms plus the code for the wall safe to Scarab. Mossano says, “I’ve never given these to you before, but I’m not sure how long resolving this will take at the other gym, and at the police station, and in the court…. Plus I have to see about getting these two young drug runners into some kind of reform. It’s best that someone in good trust has control until I am back.” Scarab thinks quickly, “Can you text that quickly to my phone as well?” he says slyly, “In case it does take you a long time and anyone asks if you left me in charge.” Mossano suspecting nothing, sends the text. They thunder across town as a group on motorbikes. Heads whip tracking the massbeast of Mossano hulking upon his machine. The pure masculinity of such massive muscularity has those passed by gaping. As they go, Mossano doesn’t spot Simb anywhere. As they near MRP II Gym, his concern grows. When they get to MRPII Gym, they still haven’t found Simb. They head across the parking lot, Mossano in the lead. Scarab falls purposefully behind. Scarab pulls the two scum surreptitiously aside and tells them in a quick, low sinister growl “Get lost. I will take it from here.” He pulls one of their heads into his juiced pecs and lets the pup nuzzle there briefly in the Dianabol-responsible cleft, even allowing him to lick quickly and wantingly at his nipple. Scarab whispers, “This is nothing, you fag. I’m going to have you tit fuck mountainous monster pecs that are inhuman when I’m 100 pounds bigger and more dominant than a god.” Then he gives the guy a command, “make sure that sniveling little boy Simb… never comes around MRP Gyms again.” Scarab races after Mossano and catches up just past the door. Inside, there are seven cops. Eighteen year old Simb is in their grasp. Simb is so young and fragile —flustered, lanky, rattled, distressed. The currier bag sits emptied of its illegal contents on the counter. The head cop, a commissioner, turns and says to those arriving, “This is tremendously serious. This delinquent will be going to jail for a long time.” Mossano does not recognize that the scum have not come in. He says, “No no, once you have the explanation of who is really responsible you will let him go.” The commissioner says, “Yes if we are given another responsible we will let this one go.” He says this because earlier the two scum had come to the police station claiming to be informants who could help them capture Mr Thailand who they said had been behind illegal drug running for a long time. The police officers on duty had all chorused, “THE Mr. Thailand? Mossano Bakkani? He who has a vee taper to a thirty two inch waist and weighs 278 pounds with arms that are 21 inches around?” Each officer knew the most famous muscular body in Thailand. So famous no one else had a fraction of the same public recognition. It is ubiquitous what the hypersexual, hypermighted silhouette of Mossano Bakkani looks like. All those overly male police officers are familiar with how the small posers of the king lounge over his ass and wrap atop his horse cock. “Yes,” the scum had said, “that is the one.” The pulse rates of those officers back at the station had gone up at even the mention of a man so self-endowed and huge. Now here in front of many of those officers, is the actual Mr Thailand. He is a man who simply can’t be real. His shoulders simply stretch too far and aloft from his neck. His torso circles at every level with immeasurability. He is too rockishly dense, too cord-thewed, and too beefily enlarged. He has muscles with more muscles on top. Mossano turns like an aircraft carrier, his legs like temple columns. He looks to have the scum confess but sees Scarab standing all alone in his stringer with his little roid-hungry physique on display. “They got away,” mouths Scarab syrupy and with what he hopes looks like a pained shrug. “Why are you looking around?,” the commissioner says to Mossano, “why don’t you just tell us the truth so that your son here can be let go?” Mossano sees the situation and walks to Scarab. His championship bodybuilder body imposes in on Scarab. Mossano’s monumental excess presses predatorily over Scarab’s lesser swole. Mossano whispers to Scarab, “I am going to explain to the officers that this crime was really done by the two drug runners. You will back me up, right?” he says warningly, “I need to know.” Scarab whispers back, “I don’t know what you are talking about. If you insist on such stories you are probably sending your son to a certain long time in jail.” “That would be a very unfatherly thing to do,” Scarab adds in a cold purr. Mossano understands now that he has been betrayed but must save his son. He turns to the commissioner and says, “It was not my son, it was me. I lied to him about what was in the bag and told him they were legal anabolic drugs.” The cops descend on Mossano and handcuff him. He is as powerful as Hercules. Reflexive at being confined, he explodes open the chains. He swings his enormous guns. Officers bowl over backward in every direction. The police ogle from the floor, all truly in awe. He is definitively the greatest and one of the most massive men that has ever been in Thailand and currently is one of the top ten most muscular men in the entire world. The commissioner says, “we will handcuff you again, and If you do not cooperate we will also take the boy.” Mossano turns to look at Scarab. He flexes his might body into a double bicep pose and snorts and growls. He is 40% bigger than Scarab. His torso heaves. His legs thunder with their gargantuan magnitude. It is imposing to behold. But then Mossano submits to the handcuffing and is taken from the gym. As soon as they leave, Simb runs crying to his uncle. “This can’t be! We have to help get my dad free.” Scarab puts his fists on his hips and raises his chest and shoulders inflating and flexing the mass he has even as it pales to what his older brother just showed. He is going to change that now. He knows he‘s going to grow so much much much bigger than he’s been. He’s the one who will use Mossano’s drugs and money and resources now. The world will see what truly wild use of all three can really do. He won’t restrain himself in any temperate way he thinks his brother has. He looks at the weak boy and seethes, “You incompetent weakling! You did this! Your father has been dealing like this for years and never gotten in trouble. It was the source of all his ability to pretend who he was and gain the mass and might that won him awards. You have ruined it and have sent him to jail. I will bring you back to the gym now and tell everyone what you have done. They love your father there.” Scarab is in full sleazy condescension now and continues, “You will have destroyed him and yourself in their eyes. But maybe if you disappear I can save his reputation and explain it was you. His imprisonment will be forever on your pathetic thin puny weak girlie shoulders but at least the love and reverence of his people can be preserved and you won’t destroy that love.” It is lies all lies, but Scarab is filled with festering wile and narcissistic need. Simb sputters. The tears flow. His breathing comes in racking sporadic gasps. He has a scrawny body and is gangly tall. But, mostly in that moment he is just a bereft son, almost a little boy. The moaning continues as he says, “But…. I didn’t mean…. It was all an…… I can’t leave my mother…. Can’t leave Naylon…” Scarab turns from the boy, bored. He has eyes in the mirror then only for himself. He pulls his stringer down low and pushes his workout pants off his bunched underwear. He admires his torso lean though it is, as defined as it is. And his arms and legs. Yes. He is defined. And has muscular definition. But he will grow grotesquely massive now. Sickly so. And then even far more disgustingly when he wants. Thailand is to have a true new bodybuilding emperor. One taller and more unrestrained in becoming as impossibly gargantuan as he can. He anticipates tapering to an even crazier narrow vee — he’s always had the blessing of narrower wolf hips than Mossano’s hasn’t he. And shoulder skelature just a little broader naturally. He knows in his gut his genetics hold that in store. God he wants to hulk and pose. “This is all your fault,” Scarab says firmly again to Simb not bothering even to turn around. Simb’s blubbering peters out until finally Simb simply sniffles, “Yes, I will go.” Simb gathers his wallet and comb from the counter. The police say Simb has to go to protective services until they can sort things out about his home. Two of the officers leave with Simb in tow. Scarab is alone with the commissioner now. The commissioner is in his mid-50s. He looks like he lifted a weight or two in his glory days. Just the kind of “straight” authority figure who looks susceptible to a transaction he-man to he-man. The commissioner tells the other officers they can leave. Once the gray-haired commissioner is the only remaining official, Scarab leads him to the gym’s office and closes the door. Scarab looks at the older man’s height of about 5’9”. “I thought I might be able to tell you a little bit about my nephew’s home.” Scarab says low and hard. “That would be completely appropriate to know,” says the commissioner. “I don’t like to say this about Mossano because he is my brother,” hisses Scarab, “but his wife and he can’t stay clean.” “Is that right,” says the commissioner, “Heroine and Cocaine?” “Yes?… Yes, of course. Those two drugs and so many more….you should think of them as using whatever would keep a couple permanently in jail, would keep a teenage son from returning home.” Scarab leans back on the edge of the desk. His legs splay in the loose-crotched fitness pants but he knows his thighs are developed enough and muscular enough for the dominant twenty five year old that he is. He balls his hands into fists and slowly raises them up in front of himself as though doing a preacher lift. His biceps curl into 17.75” swells. He eyes the commissioner and then each veiny bi in turn. And then he eyes the commissioner once again. The commissioner says, “Of course, we’d need to be doing blood screenings of Mr and Mrs Bakkani to confirm what you say is true.” “Tests of their blood you say?” says Scarab. Scarab slowly swings his left fist from where it is curled in front out to the side and then up. His right fist mimics it next. He is widening his lats until they show they are suggestive of small barn doors. His shoulders mount into miniature boulders. “Is the use of a blood test very necessary?” Scarab coos. “It is,” says the commissioner — he is tough in some ways, experienced at the way of the world. Scarab is not concerned. He is certain he can get his way. That’s all that matters. He doesn’t care what he does. He says to the commissioner, “I have a session to practice my posing in a few minutes. I’ll only be ready if I change as we talk. You understand that don’t you?” “Yes. Of course. We all have schedules.” “I take off my stringer first, don’t you agree?” “No, preparing to pose, one would take off their training pants first. Isn’t that right?” “Oh yes,” says Scarab, “You are completely correct.” Scarab pushes the pants down to his ankles. He wriggles each foot free. The pants get kicked to the side and he stands there in just his oversized boxer underwear. “You see, I work out,” Scarab says. He splays his legs. Individual cords of muscle rope atop his twenty nine and a half inch thighs rising and falling. “Hmmhum,” says the commissioner. Scarab crosses his hands to the front hem of his stringer. He lifts it over his head and off. He lets it dangle from the fingers of his left hand before dropping it to the floor. He stands in “relaxed pose”. His pecs cast the shadow of someone who’s cycled a number of times. His nipples are dark brown. “I workout lifting weights,” Scarab says looking slowly at each of his body parts in a choreographed show. “You know resistance exercise is an important path to virility, to being more and more strong, to making a true man, to being desired. Resistance exercises make a man’s muscles toned.” The commissioner says, “Very important” “Of course I don’t just keep my muscle toned do I?” says Scarab. “No.” “That may be the way of some, right?” Scarab says. “Yes.” “But that’s not mine, is it?” Scarab says. He steps forward. He’s about eight feet from the lawman. He pulls up the bottom hems of the boxers and shows his thighs more fully. They are rippling and corded. Then he smiles cruelly and pushes the boxers down and free from his legs, discarding the boxers atop the rest of his clothes. The commissioner looks at Scarab’s groin. “No, I don’t like that. You should turn around.” The commissioner hasn’t liked the undersized penis or the absent balls. Scarab turns and the Commissioner looks at the young pterodactyl back. It’s veined and knotted. Below, the ass fills beautifully. The sphincter chasm holds like a sculpted gate. The commissioner sees a bin of posers on a shelf. He pulls an especially skimpy neon orange one from the top. He throws it against the muscle back that Scarab has. “You have posing practice,” the commissioner says, “oughtn’t you put that on?” Scarab bends and reaches behind. His asshole opens. His hamstrings look like cuts flayed of skin. Scarab puts one foot into a tiny leg hole and then switches to put his other foot in the other. He drags the stretching fabric up over the maple tree trunks of his legs. He shimmies the poser onto his ass and snaps it into place. The fabric expands. The waistband threads over and around his sculpted hips. The stretching is barely scanty. The leg hems climb the freshness of his thighs and curve away past his hips toward his front. Scarab turns and his penis is now vacuumed up into a miniature but meated blatantly outlined mound. “Better?” Scarab asks. “Yes,” the commissioner replies. Scarab takes another three steps toward the commissioner. “I believe you may have had some experience ‘working out’,” Scarab says. “Yes,” comes the commissioner’s reply. “But you are nothing compared to me, Right?” Scarab asks. “Yes.” Scarab tightens into a most muscular and then inflates to an impressing double biceps, lats flared and legs on display. “I’m big aren’t I?” he says. “Yes. Yes you are.” Scarab is forcing his displaying arm in the worshipper’s face. “I’m only going to get bigger.” He snorts as he goes to a back flare. “Can you imagine that?” Scarab brags. He flows to a right side bicep pose and a left after that. “Yes. oh. Yes you are.” “Can you conceive how I feel?” Scarab drawls, stomping his left foot to explode his thigh, “Conceive how I will feel?” The commissioner says, “uurrr.” Scarab swings his left foot forward and then his right. His thighs already wobble some with weight. The flesh on them echoes to a stop after each step. He approaches the commissioner moving a juvenile bull’s size with each slow step. He brings his porny-ness right to the commissioner’s face. His lips are inches from the commissioner’s eyes. “Do you have any conception of how dripping this all is? Do you? Of how I feel? Of what it is to be endowed this way? Do You?” His breath oozes masculinity. The commissioner responds. Perhaps it is a “no” but more it is hard to tell and just sounds like a moan. Scarab says, “I don’t think there needs to be any bloodwork to know that Mossano and Sarai have been using the illicit cocaine, heroine and meth that they have polluted our city with, do you?” And the commissioner pulls himself together and says clearly, “No.” And then Scarab puts his tongue in the commissioner’s throat and moves the commissioner’s hands onto his rock hard sexualized body. “Fondle, Lick, Worship, Enjoy, you puny fucker,” croaks Scarab, “don’t even think about the fact that you will have to deal with me after I’ve executed my plan to get 70% more huge — you’d probably like that wouldn’t you, you fuck? A dom that massive? muscle that grotesque and obscene bearing down on you? Dominating you? Making you a fucking fuck toy? You’re such a pansy, puny fag man. It’s my pleasure to fully destroy fuck drip like you.”
  13. GrowthWriter

    Johnny Grewnami

    Forgive any spelling/grammatical mistakes, been out of practice. Got inspired to write this story. Johnny could feel all eyes fall on him as he entered the gym. Could he blame them? Three hundred pounds of pure lean muscle, packed tight into a sun-yellow stringer that clung to pecs that looked like they could have their own gravitational pull. Not to mention lats that made his cannon-like arms rest at a permanent angle, and a pair of legs that could rival a racing horse. Johnny knew he was a damn stud, and he savored the dozens of eyes watching him walk towards the weights; the big man not even bothering to check in at the reception. It was chest day, and Johnny was keen on giving his audience a show. Taking over one of the benches, Johnny loaded the olympic bar with one hundred fifteen pounds as his warm-up. By now the gym had nearly totally silent, the only sound being the shitty pop hits playing over the speakers. Placing his calloused hands on the bar, Johnny got into position, and with barely any effort he unracked the weight. With steady even reps, Johnny brought the bar down to his chest, then back up - making sure to lock out his arms as he did. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty. He only stopped at forty because he was getting bored. With a heavy clang he reracked the barbell. The beginnings of a decent pump were showing, the straps of his stringer were already being stretched before he started, now they looked like they were holding on for dear life as his chest threatened to tear the garment apart. “More.” Johnny’s voice was like thunder as it escaped his lips - he hadn’t even shouted, but if you were close enough you could feel the ground rumble with the single word. Another five pounds were added to the bar, and another forty reps were completed. Johnny didn’t start showing signs of fatigue until he’d done his set of forty with 130lbs. The gym had gone dead silent by then, the receptionist having turned off the radio. If everyone wasn’t watching him before, they were now. Johnny stood from the bench. The stringer clung to his frame like a second skin, the maroon fabric drenched in sweat as it hugged every inch of his pumped torso. His already massive chest was beyond pumped, cable veins and striations covering the muscle. The fist sized abs that sat just below were on full display now, each deep groove framing his midsection perfectly. Slowly, Johnny grabbed the collar of his stringer. With one powerful movement, he tore the fabric like paper - he could swear he heard one of the older gym members moan out as he revealed his immense musculature. “Tren hard.” He gave a double bi to a nearby man in his early forties - a small smile spreading across his face as he watched the older man fall to his knees clutching his tenting shorts. Adding another five pounds to the bar, Jonny then returned to the bench - as his lats got an indirect pump from the lift, they spilled even farther off the sides. Unracking the weight, Johnny got into position. Sweat began to poor down his face as he lowered the bar, his arms trembling as he struggled to control the weight. The rep was going perfect, until he’d gotten half way, when he felt the cool air brush against his now exposed nipples. The cool air blowing across the long finger sized nubs made him lose concentration. With as much strength as he could will into his massive pecs, Jony managed to push the weight back up to lockout, and rerack the bar. Johnny let out a satisfied growl as he got to his feet, his massive chest rising and falling with every breath. He marched over to the nearest bench, each footstep sending a ripple through his shredded quads. Ignoring the towel and water bottle that rested on the equipment, Johnny dragged the bench next to the rows of dumbbells - completely ignoring the skinny twink who tried to meekly tell him he was using that. The more pumped Johnny got, the less of a shit he gave towards the little guys around him. They were there to watch the big men, give their unspoken praise and admiration to them - their own pitiful workouts were secondary to admiring him. Grabbing hold of a pair of 15s, Johnny sprawled himself onto the bench, his testosterone filled sweat immediately making the pleather fabric moist. Just like with the barbell bench, each rep was executed with perfect unyielding form. Up, down, up, down. Veins continued to snake across his chest and the muscle grew with each movement - the water retention from the creatine he diligently took making the muscle packed full to the brim. After eighteen agonizing reps, Johnny let the dumbbells fall the ground with a thud. Not bother to put the weights away, he went back to the rack and grabbed a pair of 18s. He repeated the set, making sure to let out guttural moans with each rep he did. After another fifteen reps were done, Johnny tossed the weights down and got to his feet. The pump was nasty. There was hardly a better way to describe the inhuman level of size and density of his chest. Hose thick veins snaked around pecs that resembled small planets rather than muscle. For shits and giggles Johnny grabbed a weight clip and placed it against his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was the copious amount of sweat, or the textured striations, but the rush of hormones that filled him as he watched the metal stick to the meaty orb was nothing short of overwhelming. He was sure at this rate if he kept it up he could have his own ecosystem on his chest - maybe even eventually have tiny little cities built across their expanse. “Oh my god, his chest has it’s own gravitational pull.” A nearby twink exclaimed quietly, his voice thick with lust and envy. “Let’s test that theory.” Johnny turned towards the group of lifters all watching him. Drawing in a deep breath, Johnny brought his arms forward into the biggest most muscular he could manage, his musculature exploding in size as his face got red from the effort. Gritting his teeth, he focused all he could on his chest. His already hard member got even more rigid as he watched one of the lightest members - an elderly man in his late sixties - slowly get pulled in his direction, his brittle body gliding across the floor until he made contact with Johnny’s engorged chesticles. Sweat poured down his immense physique as he hardened his flex even more; and in response he watched as another man -younger, in his late twenties- also got pulled in. After two more had been pulled into his mass, the gym goers began to flee, stumbling their way away from the mass monster. Johnny let out a primal snarl, asserting his alpha dominance over the gym as he continued his massive flex. His posing was momentarily interrupted as he felt something warm come in contact with his finger-length nipple. The warm feeling was then accompanied by another on the other nipple, and the sounds of vigorous sucking. The old man, and the young man had begun attacking his nipples with their mouths, sucking the meaty nubs with all their energy, and guzzling the white liquid the spurt in response. With each gulp the two grew little by little, slowly beginning to resemble the density and size of their god. “Yes, grow my children. Become alphas like me, your ALPHA KING.” His voice shook the building, weights came crashing onto the floor and mirrors shattered. “Oof, I don’t feel so good.” The older man’s voice broke through the silence that had followed Johnny’s words. He gripped his belly, the blocky abs that adorned his midsection were bloated and swollen out into a large distended sphere. Johnny let out a small grunt as his eyes caught something, nearly imperceptible - at the top of the beer keg of a belly, he saw… a kick.
  14. Guest

    (Un)identical twins (3)

    Sorry for the very long wait. Enjoy the final part of this story. Time seemed frozen in Jason’s room as the two heavily muscled brothers lived the moment they had been anticipating for several months. For neither it had gone as they had foreseen it. Jason had found deeper and more satisfying pleasure in dominating his grown brother than he’d ever imagined. Sure, he had enjoyed being worshipped before, during or after one of his workouts by Sam or the stares from the other guys in the shower. But his brother was now way bigger than any of the guys that had rubbed their hands allover his muscles before sucking him off or getting his cock up their ass. Brett, on the other hand, had his hopes of reclaiming his dominant spot in the family shattered the moment he laid eyes on his brother’s naked torso. The second his brother had revealed his new frame, Brett had instinctively accepted the beastly man’s alphaness. Every primal instinct in his body had automatically chased every opposition to the superior being from him. His mind had been flooded by thoughts and speculations of the insane power that the bulging, insanely large and totally shredded muscles had to possess. For some reason, the awe and fear had soon been mixed with and dominated by a strange feeling of attraction. Unknown and new feelings had whirled through his mind: he had never before been attracted to another man, not even to his bigger and 261 pounds of muscles teammate Mike. He had, off course, checked his teammates’ physiques in the gym or in the shower and complimented some on their results. And received praise in return, certainly since he’d been juicing. That had been nothing more than the usual locker room atmosphere of athletes showing respect for their efforts to build up their physique. Without any sexual afterthought attached to it. The two muscular brothers were however bound by one mutual feeling: both of them were experiencing the most powerful orgasm in their life. Brett’s mind was whirling with feelings of ecstasy as pain and pleasure traveled along his spine to explode inside his brain in a fireworks of bursts of energy. His brother’s body sent urges of need through his own body; urges even his hottest girlfriend had never made him feel. Somehow, he even enjoyed the feeling of having his 241 pound, heavily muscled body feel small next to his 327 pound, beastly brother; feeling weak in the huge man’s powerful grasp. He felt like a ragdoll against the beastly body, but somehow he also felt safe in his brother’s grasp. His mind was at peace with his position as a beta, knowing it was no use to defy the muscle beast his brother had become. His mouth hung open in a silent cry. His hand was still vigorously stroking his rock-hard 8 incher that was now leaking the remains of watery loads from his drained and aching balls. Jason was also flooded with feelings of pure bliss. His mighty orgasm felt like lightning exploding in every cell of his beastly body. The realization of eclipsing, totally dominating and reducing to an obedient beta his heavily muscled, 241 pound brother gave him more satisfaction than the process of his own growth over the past months. Sure, he had jerked off to his own, ever swelling reflection as he had posed in front of the mirror in his room. Sure, he had creamed himself feeling and exploring his ever hardening muscles. But none of these feelings compared in the least to the feeling of total and undisputed control over another athlete that dwarfed most of the guys in the gym. “YEAUGHN”, Jason roared deeply as the second wave of his all-consuming orgasm rolled over him. He pulled back his cock slightly and rammed it deep and forcefully inside his brother. ‘Oughpff”, Brett peeped. He stared at his own face in the mirror and his eyes widened as his pecs were shoved against the cum-splattered mirror and he felt his feet being lifted off the ground: he was now completely impaled in his brother’s 14 inch cock. His hand raced back and forth along his shaft, but his completely drained balls refused to spill another drop of cum. The pressure inside him intensified some more as his six-pack bloated further from the never ending blasts of hot liquid the fleshy snake kept spewing inside him. “FUCK YEAUGHN”, Jason rumbled as he felt his orgasm subside slowly. He reopened his eyes, that had been closed since his orgasm began and stared into the mirror: one third of it was covered in his brother’s spunk. He looked further down and saw the drained look on his brother’s face. Even further down, he noticed his brother’s hand still mechanically stroking his own deflating cock. He also regained control of his senses and felt the heat that had built up in the room and was hit by the strong sent of musk and sex that hung heavily in the air and filled his room. He inhaled deeply to calm his breathing and let his heartbeat slowdown. His uber-athletic body recovered within half a minute. He pumped his cock a final time inside his brother’s ass and withdrew it. His still fully hard 14 incher smacked into the brick-sized abs of his eight-pack, smearing a rope of sticky cum against the corrugated surface in the process. Brett whimpered as the fleshy snake was pulled away from his worn out ass. He shivered and felt strangely empty after having being impaled on the thick shaft. He felt the thick, hot liquid stream from his ass and slide along the back of his muscular legs. His knees buckled from exhaustion but his brother’s big paws maintained their firm grip on his hips and held him upright. Jason brought is mouth to his brother’s ear. “I’m so glad yar home, little bro. Can’t think of a better and more fun way to wake up. I even think ya enjoyed this more than me. Didn’t ya, little bro?”, he said. Brett heard a muttered “yes” escape his mouth and nodded in response. “I knew it, little bro”, Jason went on, “ya’re still stroking yar cock.” The remark made Brett look down and indeed, his hand was still stroking his now soft cock. “I…”, he began. “No need to explain, little bro”, Jason stated, “ya’re not the first to jerk off to my body. And ya won’t be the least. Clean up yar mess and get ready while I grab some breakfast.” He released his brother’s hips, pulled on a pair of boxers and strutted to the door. “Get… ready…? For what?”, Brett asked while he placed his hands against the mirror to support his worn out body. “For our workout, off course”, Jason replied, “It’s arm day, little bro. I want to see yar bigger arms in action. And don’t ya want to see my canons pump some iron?” He raised his right arm in a flex, letting his 28.5 inch arm explode into a hard, round orb. A jolt shot through Brett’s cock at the sight of his brother’s flexed arm. Anticipation filled his mind. “Clean yar mess from my mirror and put on yar workout gear, little bro”, Jason rumbled and left his brother to get some breakfast. Half an hour later, Jason and Brett arrived at the gym. Jason looking fresh and energized, Brett still feeling some fatigue after the events in his brother’s room. Jason entered the gym first, strutting over to the desk. “Yo, big guy”, Sam greeted the biggest member of the gym. “I see you brought your brother”, he added as he noticed Brett. “Geez, you look way bigger than last time too. Must be fun having top genes to build muscle”, he said as he eyed Brett’s frame. A faint grin formed on Brett’s faced at the remark. He’d always enjoyed getting complimented on his physique. It made him feel a bit like the alpha he once was. “If ya ladies are done flirting, I would like to train”, Jason stated dryly and strutted past the desk into the locker room. Jason’s remark shattered the small hint of self-esteem that had formed in Brett’s mind. Brett followed his brother. Both of them pulled off their hoodies. Only then, Brett saw both of them were wearing the exact same outfit: grey sweatpants and a black tank top. His own highlighted his heavily muscled torso while his brother’s seemed painted on his torso: Jason’s wide and heavy pecs spilled from the sides and striations were visible through the overstretched fabric across the slabs of beef on his chest; even the bricks and grooves of his eight-pack were clearly accentuated and rippled with every deep breath. “Let’s go, little bro”, Jason rumbled and exited the locker room. Brett found himself once more walking behind his beastly brother. He looked up at the wide, magnificent back covered with bulging mounds of muscle pushing into each other and capped with thick, meaty traps that supported his brother’s bullneck. His gaze travelled down along the insanely broad back to halt on the meaty ass that filled the sweatpants. Jason entered the weight area and looked around. One lonely, nicely build guy was pumping out reps on a bench. As he sat up, he looked up in Jason’s direction and nodded. Jason returned the salute and recognized the 228 pound, heavyweight wrestler he’d worked out with a few months earlier when he was about the guy’s size. His cock twitched inside his pants thinking of the guy’s hot mouth that had serviced him several times ever since he had totally outgrown him. One time he had even walked in on him and Sam making out in the locker room. Wordlessly, he had simply pulled the guys apart, dropped his pants and forced Sam to watch as he had fucked the wrestler right there. Afterward, he had tossed the guy aside and made Sam suck his still hard dick. Ever since, he had more frequently used the two lovers to satisfy his ever-present needs. “Tell me if ya need a spot, Keith”, he said as he strutted past the bench toward the rack of free weights. “Right, little bro. Let’s warm up first”, he rumbled and grabbed a pair of dumbbells. Brett stared at his massive brother, cranking out perfect and fast reps with a weight he knew he would struggle with. He followed suit with a pair of much, much lighter dumbbells. “I used those feathers too. Months ago”, Jason said without taking his eyes from the mirror. After 100 reps, he racked the weights and grabbed the heaviest dumbbells on the rack. “Let’s do this!”, he gnarled at his reflection. Brett racked his weights too and grabbed the dumbbells his brother had warmed up with. After two reps, he felt his arms starting to shake. After six reps, his biceps felt like they were on fire and he dropped the weights. “Weakling”, Jason muttered and cranked out another perfect rep. He felt his monster arms pumping up as blood flowed into his beastly biceps. After 12 perfect reps, he gently racked the weight. 30 seconds later, he grabbed the dumbbells again. “Second set, little bro. Come on!”, he commanded. Brett grabbed a lighter pair of dumbbells than the ones he had just used. On the first rep, his arms shook terribly. He got three reps before his grip faltered and the weights went down. Jason on the other hand cranked out another 11 perfect reps. “Rack yar weights while I continue”, he barked at his brother. Brett obeyed his beastly brother’s instruction and sat down on a nearby bench while he watched Jason perform two more sets of bicep curls. Every rep made the veins on his brother’s bicep swell as they feed blood into the orb of muscle. “Time for some hammer curls”, Jason said as he racked the dumbbells and strutted over to the cable station. He selected the heaviest load and casually cranked out 15 fully controlled reps. Brett selected 70% of his brother’s load and struggled to complete 6 sloppy reps. He moved aside, his face reed and breathing deeply. Jason changed the weight and did another perfect series of 15 reps. He looked over at his brother but Brett nodded ‘no’ to make clear he would skip. “Sam, get over here”, Jason bellowed. Instantly, the 185 pound guy popped up. “Get on the weight stack. Ya know it’s too light for me”, Jason said. Brett stared in disbelief as the guy placed his feet atop the weight stack and his brother pumped out 10 more perfect reps. He blinked as he saw the beastly arms pump up bigger and bigger with every rep. “I know, big guy. I asked the boss the buy heavier stacks, but you’re the only one that complains”, Sam said as he was going up and down on the rhythm of Jason’s reps. “I know ya do everything to keep me happy, Sam”, Jason growled and completed his fourth set of hammer curls. “Fuck. My biceps feel like they’re gonna bust through my skin”, he added as he dropped the rope. His left paw grabbed his right bicep as he curled his arm, making the orb of muscle swell inside his grip. “Right. Some preacher curls to wrap things up”, he said and strutted over to the preacher bench. Brett, Sam and even Keith followed the beastly Jason and formed a semicircle around the bench. Jason looked up and grinned at the three guys standing in front of him. All three of them clearly worked out: looking athletic like Sam over heavily build like Keith to thickly muscled like his brother Brett. He returned his focus on his final exercise. He grabbed the loaded bar and began curling it up and down with perfect control. Brett stared as the mountains of muscle that were his brother’s biceps swelled into round, vein-choked orbs of hard meat with each curl. He felt his cock harden inside his sweatpants. Sam and Keith had similar reactions down their pants, but were less shy. They moved over to the bench and each of them groped one of Jason’s massive biceps. Their fingers didn’t budge the hot, stony-hard muscle as their hands were too small to span the girth of the orbs. “FUARK, yeah”, Jason roared as he lowered the bar for the tenth time in his fourth sets. He stood up and threw a devastating double bicep pose. His pumped biceps, swollen with blood from the workout, jumped past the 30 inch mark as they hardened into impossibly large and perfectly round mountains crisscrossed with dark veins that outsized cannonballs. “Man, this pump’s unreal”, he added and hardened his flex some more. Around him, the three other guys were stroking their cocks through their pants. “Time for a quick shower”, Jason said and strutted past his admirers. Ten minutes later, Jason emerged from the locker room after his shower and having Keith suck him off. “Round of shakes, guys?”, he asked as he sat down at the bar next to his brother, “Brett’s buying to celebrate his return home for the summer. Aren’t ya, little bro?”. Brett nodded, not wanting to stand up to his massive brother. His pumped arms made him look even more intimidating. Back at home, Brett headed for his room but his brother’s paw grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. “Not so fast, little bro. We need to talk”, Jason said and guided his smaller brother into his own room. “Drop yar pants”, he ordered as he locked the door. “What…euh?”, Brett asked. “DROP ‘EM”, Jason bellowed deeply. Brett instinctively obeyed the command and swiftly dropped his pants. He shivered as his mind processed several scenarios, but always seemed to return to what had happened earlier that morning. He blinked as he felt a stinging sensation in the left cheek of his ass. “What…”, he began but words froze in his throat as he felt the same sensation in the right cheek of his ass. “There ya go. Ya can pull ‘em back up, little bro”, Jason said. Brett quickly pulled up his pants, happy to get off the hook without being fucked once more. He turned around to face his brother and saw him throw an empty syringe on his desk. “What did you just do?”, he asked. “Ya truly are a dumb fuck, little bro. What do ya think I did? I injected ya with a double dose of roids”, Jason replied, “I want to break the 400 pound mark before the curse runs out. It stated that at the 10th full moon the circle would be round. That gives me another three weeks to put on 80 pounds of muscle. Means I’ll have to roid yar ass to make ya put on around 40 pounds of muscle since the curse is wearing down and my growth based on yours is slowing down. Fortunately, Keith has good connections.” Brett blinked. “You’re going to make me bigger?”, he asked in disbelief. “Geez, little bro”, Jason spat back, “YES! But only to make me bigger. I’m not gonna risk my health by pumping roids into my body. But ya already did, so why not take it to the next level? Ya can thank me later for making ya bigger, little bro. The following weeks I’m gonna roid ya up with double doses. Every morning right after I’ll fuck yar ass and before we go to the gym.” The next three weeks did indeed pass as Jason had told his brother: every morning Jason would pull his 242 pound brother into his room after his parents had left for work, plunge a double dose of roids in to him and then fuck his ass before they headed over to the gym and he put him through a grueling workout. 21 days later, Brett came home to an empty house: his parents had left that morning for their yearly vacation and wouldn’t be home for another month; his brother had left for the gym 10 minutes earlier. Brett had spent the night over at an old buddy from his football team in high school to avoid the daily ass-fuck by his now freakishly big brother. He had waited in his car a few houses down the street from his own until his brother had driven off. He parked his car in the deserted driveway and quickly disappeared inside the house. He knew he had until half the afternoon before his brother would return from the gym after his training, action with Sam and Keith in the locker room and having the two guys buy him dinner. He went upstairs to his room, tossed his phone and sweater on the bed before heading over to his brother’s room. He stopped before the shut door of his brother’s room. In his mind the possibility to go search for answers grew stronger fought with the voice warning him for serious danger if his brother would catch him inside his room. On the other hand, it could well be his only chance to break the curse before it would be complete that night. His hand shook as he reached for the doorknob. His mouth went dry as he turned the nob and the door opened gently. He quickly entered his brother’s room, getting hit by the manly scent of musk, sweat and cum that hung heavily in the air and closed the door behind him. His gaze scanned the room, stopping briefly at the ropes of cum still sliding down slowly on the mirror toward the puddle formed on the carpet at its base. He turned his attention to the fully stacked book closet and began searching the shelves. 10 minutes later, Brett went through the top shelf and felt frustration well up inside him as he hadn’t found anything. A part of him knew it had been too good to be true. He turned away from the book closet and stepped over to the adjacent desk. He pulled out the drawer on the left, but found nothing. His hand reached for the other drawer and puled. The handle resisted. “Why would you keep this drawer locked, bro?”, he said to himself and pulled with all his might. The lock succumbed quickly to his new strength and the drawer opened with the sound of shattering wood. “Bingo”, he said with a grin as he saw the old book. He grabbed it, shut the drawer again and began going through the book. He didn’t understand a word of the ancient text in Latin. Luckily for him, his brother had noted the translation of most passages in pencil next to the text. Feed on power… Transfer… fluids = cum… use on Brett… The last remark made anger well up inside Brett. “So, this is the curse he used on me”, he growled and read on to find a solution. The dust inside the book flew up as he went through it and he sneezed. He pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose to clear out the dust before putting it back inside his pocket and continuing his discovery of the book. Curse complete… 10th full moon… Lasting results… Grow huge on Brett’s efforts??? Brett blinked as he read the remark. He shook his head at the proof that his nerdy brother had grown huge at his dispense. He went on and a annotation by his brother on a page a little further caught his attention. Restore… Healing curse… Take back ill-earned gains… Definitive… Brett’s mind, way slower than his brother’s, put the pieces together and a smirk formed on his face. “That’s it!”, he said to himself. He quickly read through the translation his brother had made. “I need some of his body fluids… fluids”, he said to himself when the solution popped up in his mind. He returned a few pages and his finger tapped on a comment: fluids = cum. He turned around and looked at the cum-drenched mirror. “Luckily I wasn’t here this morning and he blew his load to his reflection”, he said. He stepped over to the mirror, pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped a nice amount of the sticky cum from the mirror. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Brett nearly dropped the book and his handkerchief. He waited a few seconds, but the bell rang again. He quickly put his handkerchief inside the book and went over to his own room. As he entered, his phone rang. “Hello?”, he asked. “Dude, it’s me, Mike. I’m at your house. Are you in?” “At my house?”, Brett repeated. “Yeah. I was around to visit my cousin Keith. Stayed at his place tonight but he’s off to the gym now. So, are you at home?”, Mike said. “Sure”, Bret replied, “come round the back. Backdoor’s open. I’m in my room. Second door on the left at the top of the stairs.” “See ya in a sec”, Mike said and ended the call. At the gym, Sam and Keith were in the locker room waiting for Jason to arrive. The now huge man had texted them to come over and not keep him waiting. They gasped sharply as Jason entered. Jason ducked and rotated his torso to come sideways through the door. He was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts that now served him as boxers: no regular pair of boxers would fit around his quads anymore. His new body was a breathtaking sight: he could no longer be called huge or beastly, he had evolved into a massive mountain of muscle. Despite the fading power of the curse he had managed to gain another whopping 85 pounds of muscle and had grown 7 extra inches taller: he now stood an towering 7’5 feet tall for a hulking 412 pounds of ripped and striated muscle. The extra height made his insanely, hulkingly muscled body maintain its aestheticly perfect proportions. His calves jutted backward like thick diamonds at the back of his legs; his quads made his kneecaps look comically small and dwarfed the tree in their backyard by the massive size of the wide, deeply grooved, corded muscles that stretched the shorts to the max; his eight-pack was a collection of cobblestone-sized blocks of muscle, separated by canyons and decorated down the center with a dark treasure trail that disappeared down his shorts; the top half of the eight-pack was obscured by the shadow of his monumental pecs; they were an insanely thick, protruding rack of heavy muscle that proudly defied the pull of gravity; each pecs had the size of a watermelon shoved underneath the paper-thin skin; the surface of the extremely wide slabs of concrete-hard beef was crossed with striations and small veins; the pecs protruded so far from his chest that his nipples pointed straight down to the floor and were not visible from the front; the massive mounds rippled with every breath he took; a thick vein snaked at the top of the pecs like a small river and ran further onto his shoulders where it branched off in several smaller veins; the hard line of his shoulders was twice as large than a doorframe and capped with delts the size of basketballs; each separate head of the muscle was visible through the stretched skin pulled tight around the orbs of meat; the wide line was capped with a pair of intimidatingly thick traps that supported his bull-sized neck; his heavily muscled shoulders formed the support of his amazing arms hanging relaxed at his sides; his arms had amassed another 8 inches and now measured 36.5 inches flexed; when flexed his biceps exploded into spheres of rock-hard muscle that dwarfed bowling balls and were choked in a network of crisscrossed veins that fed the mighty muscles; his triceps then hung like vicious horseshoes at the bottom of his arms; they had more mass on their own than most guys entire upper arm; now his arms hung relaxed at his sides, looking like hams ready to burst through the satin-like, paper-thin skin; his forearms were covered with thick cords that ran along their entire length and were thicker than most men’s legs; inside his shorts his now dormant cock had grown to accommodate to his new body: fully hard it stretched to an insanely long 18 inches and its girth outsized most guys’ forearms; even flaccid its size prevented him from wearing boxers. Sam and Keith gulped as Jason swaggered over towards them and seemed to swell with every step he took. A simultaneous jolt shot through their cocks. “Ready for some action, runts?”, Jason rumbled in a voice that filled the room like thunder as he stopped a few feet from the two athletes and stared down on them. Sam and Keith gawked at the protruding rack of heavy muscle, crossed with striations that was at their eyelevel. Even though they saw Jason shirtless and naked every day, they simply couldn’t fathom the unreal size he had grown into. The shadow cast by Jason’s monstrous body put them completely in the dark and the guy was wider than both of them standing next to each other. They looked straight at the insanely deep canyon between the two slabs of pecs. It looked deep enough to conceal an entire hand. Striations rippled against the paper-thin skin as the globes of pecs rose on the rhythm of the muscle freak’s breathing. “My dumbass brother wasn’t home this morning. Couldn’t fill his ass with my cum. I’m so fucking horny right now”, Jason stated, “Ever since my brother made me huge it feels like there’s pure testosterone coursing through my veins. Fuark.” He looked at his reflection in the large mirror and bounced his chest in an insane display of striations and veins. Keith’s gaze was drawn downwards by a stirring motion. He blinked in disbelief as he saw Jason’s package beginning to form a larger and larger bulge at the front of his shorts. Within seconds the purple head peeped outside as it pushed the waistband away from the giant’s tight waist. “Got over here, wimp”, Jason growled at Keith. Back at home, Brett put the book inside his desk as he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. The sound of the opening door made him turn around to face his former team captain. “Mike”, he said with a grin and looked at the athlete standing in the doorway. “You look a bit smaller than I remember”, he added. “Had an injury. Couldn’t train the last two months”, Mike replied without taking his eyes from his former teammate. “Down to around 238 right now”, he added. “What the fuck have you done to yourself?”, he asked while he scanned how Brett’s heavy torso stretched his shirt to the max. “I’ve grown a bit”, Brett replied matter-of-factly. He still had to look up at the half-a-foot taller athlete, but there was no doubt about who was the bigger man. Brett pulled off his shirt and heard Mike gasped at the sight of his bare upper body. Brett was now heavier than he had ever been. He had put on another 42 pounds in just 3 weeks from the massive doses of roids his brother had injected into his ass. He was now weighing an intimidating 284 pounds. Every muscle on his body was unmistakably fuller and larger: his delts had grown into perfectly rounded cannonballs that capped the broad line formed by his wide shoulders; the width of his shoulder girdle made the sides of his prominent delts brush the doorframe as he went through it; his arms had put on another 3.5 inches, making them an impressive 24.5 inches fully flexed; his pecs had amassed more beef and now protruded further from his chest; even his quads were bigger and more muscular. Overall, he looked intimidatingly muscled after his forced cycle. Despite his superior size, it was clear he had been roiding heavily: his head somehow looked a bit too small for his new size; his skin had an oily shine and looked greasy; his back was marred with severe acne; his six-pack was a protruding, bloated muscle-gut and his nipples were swollen. To top things off, his balls seemed a bit smaller and ached when he blew his load. “How big…”, Mike asked while scanning the heavily muscled body in front of him. “284 fucking pounds”, Brett interrupted him. He bounced his pecs to emphasize his weight. It had been a long time since he had felt the superior man inside this house. He raised his right arm and flexed it. His bicep exploded into a vein-choked, round orb of hard muscle as his arm reached it’s 24.5 inches. Mike blinked at the incredible sight. “Like what you see, pretty boy?”, Brett asked and raised his other arm to complete his double bicep pose. It took Mike’s mind a few seconds to process to huge guy’s remark as he was still taking in the sight of the devastating double bicep pose. “Cat got your tongue, pretty boy? This is what a real man looks like”, Brett stated coldly and threw a most muscular. Mike instinctively took a step backwards as he thickly muscled torso exploded in a display of hard muscle. He knew he couldn’t let Brett feel any of his doubt. He still had his height advantage and stretched himself to gaze down on the shorter man. “You’re big. But that’s just over-roided muscle full of water. Feel some real strength, freak”, Mike growled and launched himself at his former teammate. In a blink his fist collided with the bloated muscle-gut. Brett let out a muttered sound of surprise as he felt the fist hit his abs. He barely felt the punches the other athlete launched against his abs. He pulled back his own fist, making his right bicep harden into its 24.5 inches in the process, and threw it against the star quarterback’s tight six-pack. “Buough”, Mike groaned as the fist collided with his abs and he felt them give in slightly under the violent punch. He didn’t have any time to react as a second punch hit him just as hard in the same spot and brook through his defenses. He folded double from the impact and a third blow made him collapse to the floor. Brett felt his cock harden inside his pants as he looked down on the beaten jock: he had just taken down the once dominant man on campus with just three blows. Mike tried catching his breath, his abs sending painful stabs through his body with every breath he took. A hand grabbed his neck and he felt himself being lifted up. His legs fell rubbery and the tight grab on his neck kept him upright as he was forced to look straight into Brett’s eyes. “I have 45 pounds of mass on you”, Brett said, “And still you’re so dumb to take me on?”. As Brett spoke, Mike summoned his strength and threw another punch at the huge man’s face. Brett easily fended off the weak punch and then launched another blow into the six-pack that felt like jelly as his fist busted through it. “Buoughnf”, Mike grunted as the sledgehammer-like fist sank deep into his stomach. Brett’s mind was filled with the feeling of finally dominating another man physically. And then, like a dam breaking under pressure, the months of frustration of being the beta next to his freakish brother flooded his mind. His fist began pounding into the battered stomach of the star quarterback. Mike could only let out incoherent, painfilled sounds as his body took the beating. He didn’t even have any strength left to try and put up a defense: his muscular arms dangled at his sides. Brett felt all-powerful as he kept slamming his fist into the once dominant athlete on his team. His dick was fully hard, forming a prominent bulge inside his sweatpants. He smacked his fist into the 238 pound man’s face, bruising his eye and then splitting the man’s lip. He felt some blood drip onto his fist and inhaled heavily as he felt the testosterone and adrenaline rush through him. He kept grabbing the star quarterback’s neck with his left paw while his right paw yanked down his own sweatpants and boxers to reveal his rock-hard 8 incher that smacked hard into his bloated roid-gut. Mike saw the meaty cock through his swollen eye. He knew what was going to happen, but was powerless to resist. Brett shoved his cock inside the fallen quarterback’s mouth, easily forcing the battered man in place and returned his attention to the book. “Let’s get this over with first. I’ll deal with you later”, he said and pulled his handkerchief from his pants. He opened the book on the right passage and read it out loud: “Let the body of he who’s fluids shall cover this page surrender to this curse. Let it discard its ill-earned mass and return to the way it was!”. He quickly grabbed the hanky and rub it along the page, smearing the liquid onto the book. In the gym, Jason’s vision went dark for just a split second. He felt a strange wave of weakness go through his body and he stumbled backwards, his wide back colliding against the tilled wall. He raised his right paw to his head, making his insanely large bicep ball up in the process, and closed his eyes. At the same time, his cock sprang to full hardness and ripped away the shorts. The 18 inch anaconda pointed straight at Keith. Keith took two steps and kneeled before the 412 pound muscle god. He took the thick head and the top of the large shaft inside his mouth. Instantly, Jason began to cum uncontrollably. Keith gulped down one huge blast after the other, feeling the liquid heat slide into his stomach. Somehow the heat seemed to spread inside him. “He’s… he’s shrinking”, Sam said in disbelief as he saw Jason’s muscles get flatter. Keith’s mind processed the remark while he gulped down a fifth blast. He looked up and noticed that the shadow cast by the still impressive, yet clearly smaller rack of pecs didn’t obscure most of the diminishing eight-pack anymore. The quads beneath his hands also felt less hard. His stomach was starting to feel bloated as another shot of cum was blasted down his throat. The cock he was sucking didn’t stretch his mouth as much anymore and felt less deep inside his throat. Jason still had his eyes closed as the powerful orgasm flooded his body. Sam blinked as the giant was now clearly getting smaller: it seemed like Jason’s muscles were melting away from his body. A tearing sound tore his gaze from the hulking muscle-freak to the wrestler sucking him off. “Dude. You’re getting bigger”, he muttered as he saw Keith’s muscles rip through his tight shirt. Keith’s mind processed Sam’s remark. He sucked down harder on the diminishing cock that kept spewing load after load of cum into him. A feeling like a good pump now filled every muscle on his body. He felt pain spread through his body as his muscles began reaching their limit. He began feeling sick as his overbloated stomach protested against more forced feeding. He motioned Sam to come over. Sam immediately got the wrestler’s hint and moved in. The growing wrestler released the still impressive, yet way smaller cock. A blast hit Sam straight in the face as he kneeled down in front of the over a 100 pounds lighter muscle freak. He immediately placed his mouth over the spewing cock and felt the heat spread through his body. The slowly swelling Keith lay down atop the bench in the locker room as he felt his muscle grow and harden further. He felt his clothes get tighter and tighter. Sam grabbed hold with all his might of the deflating quads and sucked the shrinking cock relentlessly. He felt the heat fill his body as if he was getting a solid pump from a long workout. Back at home, a similar darkness overtook Brett’s vision and the next moment his cock began cumming deep inside the quarterback’s throat. Mike gulped down the sticky spunk and felt the heat spread through his body. It was as if his muscles were regaining their lost strength. Brett groaned in pleasure as the sucking on his dick got harder. Unlike Keith, Sam didn’t grow slowly: his body exploded in size as he drank down the energizing cum. His clothes exploded into shreds as his muscles ballooned upward and outward with more mass. He looked up and the once freakishly large Jason was now looking below average. Jason felt his orgasm ware off and sank down along the wall in darkness. “Fuck yeah!”, Sam roared as he saw his new physique in the mirror. He had grown from a 185 well-muscled jock into a 335 pound, superheavyweight bodybuilder. Every muscle on his body looked ripped and pumped. His grown cock throbbed and slapped against the center of his eight-pack. “Looking good, man.” Sam turned around and saw Keith walking toward him: the guy looked like his exact copy. “Man, we’re the same size”, he said excitedly and flexed and impressive arm that bulged into a hard orb of power. Keith copied his pose grinningly, revealing an equally impressive bicep. “Fuck me”, Keith whispered as he leaned in and kissed his lover deeply. A faint grunt made Sam look aside and turn his attention to the shrunken Jason. Jason blinked as his mind tried to figure out what had happened. The large room looked strangely familiar. Before he could get up, a Greek god hoisted him up. He felt his feet leave the floor as he stared at the heavily-muscled body in front of him. Sam grinned at the runt in his grasp. The months of abuse he and Keith had had to take from the once beastly Jason popped up in his mind. “Get lost and never bother us again. If you ever set foot back in this gym, I’ll break every bone in your body. Got it, runt?”, he boomed aggressively. Jason nodded in defeat. He knew he was no match for this muscle beast. “I’ve got nothing to wear”, he peeped in his boyish voice. Sam dropped the frail runt, strutted over to a locker and ripped off the door. “There, some kid-sized clothes”, he said and tossed them onto the emaciated figure. Jason got dressed quickly and headed over to the door. He turned around a final time to see the two 335 pound, muscle beasts in action: Keith was lying atop the large bench in the center of the locker room and Sam was fucking him relentlessly while they kept kissing and groping each other’s muscles. Jason hurried over to his car to get home. Back at home, Mike gulped down the last blast from Brett’s cock. He felt the energy soaring through his grown body. Somehow, he had gained 72 pounds of muscle. Brett felt somewhat dizzy as he shoved the quarterback from his cock. A look of terror filled his eyes as the other athlete rose to his full height and he assessed the guy’s new size. “How…”, he muttered in choc. “Don’t know. And don’t care”, Mike boomed in response. “Oh and I owe ya this”, he added and smacked his fist into the 100 pound lighter guy’s abs. Brett crashed backwards to the floor as the 310 pound quarterback’s fist smacked into his six-pack and busted right through it. “See ya around, little guy. Can’t wait to see what this body can do in the gym”, Mike rumbled and strutted away from the room. 10 minutes later, Jason arrived home and stormed into his room. He went through his desk frantically to get the book and see what had gone wrong. He froze when a strong hand landed atop his bony shoulder. “A word, little bro?”. Jason shivered as he recognized his brother’s voice and turned around slowly. He gulped as he stood before the 212 pound, muscular jock. His own meager, 155 pound body was obscured by his brother’s frame. “Guess you’re only technically the bigger brother again”, Brett said as he grinned down smugly into his weak brother’s eyes, “Time for some payback, LITTLE BRO”. Jason saw his brother smacked his right fist into his left paw and shuddered, realizing that the bill for his months of dominating his brother was going to be heavy…
  15. dreamboy

    The Gym Janitor Final Chaoter

    I wanna preface this by saying that I apologize for taking so long to wrap this story up. It has been months! But life happens and the groove of things gets lost. Hopefully, this is a satisfying ending. Brace yourselves because this is a very long final chapter. Enjoy! *** “Open.” My lips parted like the red sea. Eagerly vacant and ready to eat just like a baby bird with its mother. Everything was running in slow motion. My eyes darted toward master’s pouted lips gunning a wad of saliva. Drip by drip, his essence glazed down my tongue, through my hole, tickling my uvula softly. “Good bitch!” he growled. His beastly hand gripped my jaw tightly and then took off before smacking my cheek. Many would find discomfort in this, but being with him inverted my nerves, what would cause me pain, suddenly shot down my spine and straight to my cock. The rubbing of his leather suit as he walked me on all fours to his couch echoed, reminiscing about our first encounter in the echoey locker room. He plopped himself across the couch. Pulling at the belt, drawing my head near him. His hot breath steamed my face, smelling of fresh mint. “You’ve wanted this for a while huh?” he whispered. I nodded. I dreaded working the night shift ever since Kyle began scheduling me for it. Every second in what was supposed to be the place where your mind clears out all of the terrible things was a place where I desired to end it all. The night that master set foot on that gym floor, I knew I was supposed to work the night shift for a reason. Where I thought I was working in the bane of my existence delivered to me the sole reason I existed. To serve. To surrender. To become nothing. To become my master’s nothing. “Say it,” he gripped the belt tighter. “Yes.” I gulped. “Yes what?” he barked “Yes- master” I gasped. He forced my head in the direction of his boots. “The best worship starts at the base,” he released his grasp from the belt loosely giving me enough distance to crawl to the other end of his 6-foot frame. My paws were caressing the bulky boots’ laces. Inches away, the strong familiar odor marinated around them. A small part of my brain tickled me pink from the bliss. “Take that dirty boot off you cunt!” master ordered. I swiftly removed the boot and pressed the entry against my snout. A deep inhale permeated my lungs like that first sip of ice water you take after waking up. “Without me even having to tell you,” master snarked, “there’s a good girl.” His calling me “girl” made my hole pulsate. I fixed my eyes on his bare feet. “Just for you,” he wiggled his toes, “I wore no socks the entire day at work.” I moaned at the sight of his sweaty, linty, feet. “Dig in,” he growled. My mouth engulfed his big toe like it was the head of a cock in one slurp. My tongue was sandwiched by his other toes as I slobbered. “Fuuuuuuck yea babe,” he moaned, “just like that. Who’s my good girl?” “Me master,” I spoke. “That’s for fucking sure. How do you like that taste, live up to your expectations?” he asked knowingly. “Its taste is unlocking new tastebuds I never knew I had, I am in ecstasy master,” I moaned. “Of course you are, and what do we say to master?” he asked. “Thank you,” I whimpered. “That’s right,” he leaned back and cupped his bulge, “you keep sucking and I might let you suck something else.” My oral skills were tested, but despite how tiring it can be, my comfort was sacrificed at the expense of his relaxation. My tongue and saliva can even go hours on end until it turns into beef jerky just so he can be satisfied. His sweaty feet pressed against my cheek, draping me in master’s scent. Minutes flew by. “Stop,” he commanded as he stood up from the couch. My leash tightened as he walked us into his bedroom. The door croaked open to expose the golden dome of the master bedroom. The penthouse suite. Fit for a king. “I am impressed,” he glanced, “not a single speck of dust even in the remote to my television, all of my files stacked neatly, my bedsheets practically ironed against the mattress. Open up.” His spit fired inches above my mouth, but before I could swallow, his lips pressed against mine. Was this happening right now? Did Master reward me with a kiss? “Again.” Again. “Swallow.” Swallow. “You liked that?” He beamed. “Yes, master.” “No bitch,” he cackled, “remember the term.” “Yes Daddy,” I gooned. “Good bitch,” he grinned. “Get up here.” He yanked my leash with brute force and my face was met with the crevice of his pit in a split second. The bush tickled my face and slipped into my nostrils completely fumigating my cranium. The smell of new like the smell of brand-new shoes blended in with expensive cologne and musky sweat. Delirium. “Lick that shit bitch!” My tired tongue brushed its surface with Daddy’s armpit hairs. His damp surface hydrated my drying tongue oh so slightly, but just enough to drive me to keep going. Eventually, I trailed my lather towards his nipple. His pec shelf enveloped me with sweat on his chest. “Hell yeah,” Daddy moaned, “you ready?” Without a second thought, he held my skull like a bowl and squeezed me into himself. The tip of my nose touched the base of his skin and my breathing lacked. Both ends of my cheeks hid in the middle of his suffocating bosom. I tapped his shoulder three times for him to release his grasp on me. “You’re at my mercy,” he huffed, “but don’t worry babe I’ll take care of you. I know when to let you breathe. Appreciate the mere fact that you’re getting to do this. Imagine the long line of closeted subs who just gawk at me from afar at the gym. But not you huh bitch? You had the guts to own up to it. To own up to your place beneath me. That’s my good bitch. That’s the sub that deserves to be suffocated by my pecs. A sub that gets to worship me!” A loud growl erupted from his lips as he let go of me. I let out a deep heavy sigh of pleasure. The pain of the pressure is molding me into his jewel for him to flaunt. Just like the rest of his golden throne and life of luxury, another piece of property manifests itself into the sub that I am becoming. Something he owns that he prides himself in. “Fuck yeah boy c’mere,” he growled. Our lips interfaced, violent wrestling against each other, but he reigns first. His tongue pierced inside my mouth filling the cavity and swirling inside. The sensation was so surreal my cock immediately ruptured with cum. My entire body twitched as he kept kissing me. Large strips of cum shot against Daddy’s hairy torso. His hand caressed my nipple triggering an even more euphoric sensation that made me ejaculate more. “You were supposed to wait for my command,” he chuckled, “but knowing THAT’S the power I hold over you is getting me bricked.” He undid his pants to reveal the gargantuan cock underneath. The massive Pringles can likeness of cock swung between us, dwarfing my leaking clit. “My turn,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’ll work you through it, but you WILL reach the base of my cock.” I assumed the position on all fours meeting at eye level with his cock. Already leaking precum, like a lollipop I engulfed the head. The back of my mouth bobbs up and down as he thrusts his hips in unison. “Fuck yeah baby,” he moaned, “suck it like it’s the air you breathe.” His comments inspired me to throat him more. My gag reflex was fighting demons as I furthered his shaft down my throat. The reflex won over as his tip scratched the top of my throat. “Fuck you suck it so good,” Daddy panted, “you suck better than any bitch I’ve had before. DAMN! Look at you, a cock starved whore! That’s a good girl!” With his member still in me I moaned as if my G-spot was in my throat. In and out he slid, a rhythm not even the world’s most renowned musicians could replicate. The gagging mixed with the slobbering all to the beat of my master’s panting. The face fuck of a lifetime. “Oh keep sucking it just like that,” he stroked his hips back and forth faster. My airways sealed but I couldn't care less. A hardwired lust grew tender within me. My gag reflex began to dissipate as every inch penetrated my hole. The edges of my lips lubricated in saliva and snot. The musky ball sweat imprinted across my skin. “You ready boy?” He shouted. “Open that fucking throat. ARGHHHHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUUCK.” His eyes rolled to the back of his head as each shot pulsated and traversed down my throat. And the base of his cock kissed my lips. “Swallow it all!” He barked. “Don’t you dare waste a drop!” And swallow it I did. The sea salt kettle corn flavor of his buttery cum immersed the pores of my tongue. The most addicting substance of all. “Finally,” I sighed. “Haha!” Daddy cackled. “How was it, boy?” “Purposeful,” I began, “like a piece of me was missing.” “I am that missing piece,” he huffed, “nothing will ever feel as good as serving your master, will it boy?” “No Daddy,” I bit my lip. “Your mind is mine,” he growled, “your clit is mine, your holes are mine, but above it all…” He leans forward and kisses me. “You are mine.” He smirked. “Understood?” “Yes sir!” I said. “You only respond to me from now on,” he said sternly, “quit your job. Fuck Kyle. His piece of shit gym does not deserve someone as attentive as you. I’ll take care of you from this moment forward.” His beastly hand caressed my cheek ever so softly. My eyes watered with joy as I realized how blissful it is to serve. To devote every fiber of my being to him. To abide by what he says cause in the end, I gain a lifetime of exploring his psyche, his desires, and his strength. “Or does that not sound promising enough?” he asked knowingly. “Yes,” I chuckled, “I am yours. I answer to you alone master. No matter the odds. I'm just taken aback by how I kept sniffing your sweaty rag a few days ago, to getting the privilege of you cumming in me all within a week!” “That’s a good boy,” he winked, “it is a privilege, but this is just the beginning.” He smacked my ass and nudged me towards the restroom. “Let’s get ya’ cleaned up.” The End
  16. Hello, I had this story(part of the story) in ma head for long time so I started it to try out how things will evolve. Every feedback will be appreciated! Hi, honey how was your day? Asked Jake sitting on couch drinking tea. Name: Jake Age: 26 Height:5´10 (178cm) Body type: Slim fit Weight: 167lbs (76 kg) Cock: 6,7 inches (17cm) I guess OK, long boring day, not many clients today. Answered Ty walking to Jake and kissing him on forehead. Name: Tyler Age: 27 Height:5´7 (172cm) Body type: Build fat??? Weight: 209lbs (95 kg) Cock: 5,5 inches (14cm) “But I got something that I hope you would like...no love”: and showed Jake a silverish steel briefcase with yellow logo which said: Modify yourself “No way! How did you get that? And whole package? How many of it its inside?” "7! And ready for use!": Tyler opened the briefcase and revealed 7 syringes inside with shimmering purple liquid inside them. They looked different than normal ones. No piston to push and needle was only 0,2 inch (0,5 cm). “So where you want them, Ty? You know well I don’t have problem to stick anything into you. Big grin formed on Jakes face.” “Funny, and I would normally just go with try and error but I don’t want to look like a freak so we should check the manual.” Under the syringe was paper manual, Tyler took it out, but Jake elegantly took it from Ty’s hand. "By the look of it you will need most of them just to look normal.... If normal means big. You need one syringe for each arm and leg + torso with that you are left only with 2. Wow that’s lame..." "Give me that! And what do you mean lame? I’m happy I got my hands on it! Let me see what the options for rest of the 2 syringes are.” Cock (Increase cock size) Balls (Increase balls/cock size + libido) Pecs (Increase size) Ass (Increase size) Head (Increase IQ/EQ) DISCLAMER! - Intensity of change varies from human to human “Hmmmmm....soooo......what you want to get "EDDITED" Ty?” “You don’t like me how I’m now Jacob?” “Boo hoo, poor Tyler, we both know you didn’t buy that stuff for me. Sooo? With what should we start?” “Ok, take out the syringes out Jacob, I go change into something more suitable and looser, so I won’t suffocate.” “What? NO no no no no.... not happening. You come here only in your boxers.” “Hahahah, fine just give me a second.” When Tyler came back into the living room 5 syringes were already laid out on the table. “Why only 5? What you did you do with the rest Jacob?” “Chill out would you? I’m keeping them safe for later, in manual it says, even if you are using syringes for example arms, the rest may potentially grow too a little so those two will be used tomorrow if needed to. Since this is first batch, it will take time to fully develop. It says 2-3 hours and we are going to use 5 at once so let’s not overdo it.” “So what are you waiting for? Shove them in me!!” “With pleasure.” Jake took syringe after syringe and used them for arms legs and torso as recommended. “So how do you feel? Do you feel anything?” “No, not at all, but they said it will take a while so what are we going to do now?” “Ty, you are too impatient. Let’s watch movie, time will fly by faster. You are not only one impatient in this situation and you are not helping. Do you want something to drink?” “Yes, can you bring me cup of coffee?” “Suure.... but coffee for evening? Will you be able to sleep at night?” “Well, its Friday and we just used body modifying serum, so I hope we are not just going to sleep tonight.” "Right.": Jakes face was red and on fire. He loved when Tyler was like this. Since he was more introverted than Tyler, he often felt his voice drowned by Tylers. Jake placed both cups on the coffee table, covered his lower half with blanket and same did for Ty. Jake leaned on Ty shoulder. Didn’t take long and bot fell asleep. ===================================================Part 2================================================== Jake woke up to getting suffocated. He had to slid lower during sleep, so his face was under Ty hand. Still dizzy, he got up and took both cups. They were cold, he went into the kitchen and pour it out into the sink. ** “What a waste of good coffee.” He looked at the clock. 21:26. Didn’t Ty used the syringes at 17:30. It was almost 3 hours since then!! Jake rushed into the living room. “Ty? Wake up!” “What? What is happening? Did I fell asleep?” Tyler saw Jake is getting redder by second and his breathing speeding up and then he saw why, Jakes bulge was screaming from his trousers. Tyler stood up, he was looking into Jacobs eyes but this time he was looking down. “I sweet! My height increased too! "Look at those abs, my fat is gone! WOW this is awesome! Look at my chest, so define and..... wow my bulge seems bigger! Wanna check?" Jake was in state of trans looking at Ty, his brain just stops working, he was too horny for that. Tyler came close to Jacob, close enough for his pec be just few inches from Jacobs. "Pull the pants down. Let’s compare them. You were bigger before, how big yours again?" "6,7 inches" Jake pulled his pants down with his briefs and his painfully hard cock flung from his confinement. Tyler grabbed both cocks to compare. "Dude! I was only 5,5 inches but LOOK AT IT NOW! We are almost the same now! Thats crazy. Jake, go get the tape to measure it. .......Jake?" "Jake, honey, go and bring me the measuring tape.": said Tyler now with much lower voice. Jake whole body made a small twitch, which after he got out of the trans but when he moved his cock was still in Tylers hands. Jacob tried to pull one more time, but it only made his cock sends shivers of pleasure trough his body. “T-Ty you have to let me go if you want that tape.” Jake was starts panting quietly now, while grip on his cock just got stronger. With confusion Jake looked at Tylers face that was grinning at him back. “I just changed my mind, we can measure later, now, you are mine.” Tyler pulled Jake towards him into his embrace with Jake face right in front of Tylers. Tyler didn’t wait any second and gave Jake one huge passionate kiss, he started to feel something, something different, something he could describe as a bond forming. Even though they were together for 5 and married for 3 years, he knew it wasn’t love, he felt plenty of that for Jake, this was different. Tyler lifts Jake, Jake got surprised since Tyler had always problem lifting him. Tyler carried him into their bedroom like he weights nothing. Tyler slammed Jake on bed, Jaked turned around and saw Tyler pouncing on him like wild animal. Tyler pined Jake down to bed by holding his arms, lowered his head and licked Jake form his abs to his torso. Then he whispered into Jakes ear: “I haven nice prey here but, to be mine, I have to claim it first.” Right after that, without any warning, Tyler shoved his newly improved cock into Jake. Taken by surprise, Jake screamed from pain and pleasure. Tylers thrusts just got more intense. He was looking at Jakes flushed face and his cock was twitching like crazy. With one hand Tyler grabbed Jakes cock and start jerking it. This took Jake into overdrive and started cumming like he was holding it in for full year. Cumming changed into twitching, from reaching full body orgasm. He never felt like this before. “Now it’s my turn!”: Roared Tyler as his thrust slowed down but were more passionate, after few strong thrusts he came what felt like 5 minutes. It was intense Tylers cum made small bulge in Jakes tummy. The amount was just too much, cum was pushing Tylers cock out of Jake but Tyler shoved it in one more time to make sure it all stays in. Tyler kissed already passed out Jake and tired from sex he too fell asleep next to him hugging him tightly. When Jake woke up, Ty wasn’t in bed anymore. However, Jake heard laptops keyboard popping in the living room so he just decided he will take a shower. Inside under the falling water Jake was thinking about last night. The way Tyler was more daring was super-hot. Although Tyler was toping half of the time, he was more passionate and romantic rather than dominant. This train of thoughts gave Jake a boner, when he touched his dick, his legs gave away and he dropped to the shower floor panting. His dick was after last night super sensitive, was it because of the intensity of sex or body orgasm? Who knows, he knew only one thing, he must get rid of it. That was not really a problem since just few strokes made him cum, in his mid he saw Tyler, now beefy man with no hair flexing. Without touching, thanks to this thought Jake came again. After he cleaned himself again, he put on clothes and went to check on Ty what he was doing. Tyler was sitting on the sofa with his laptop on his legs. Jake couldn’t properly see what he was reading, only thing he saw was logo of Modify yourself company. “What are you looking at?” “Nothing really, just checking on other people before and after pictures. The transformations are fascinating.” “I can see by those used tissues next to you.” “You bet, and I didn’t have to even use porn, just flex in front of mirror. Till you were asleep I measured and weighted myself. I’m 6,1 feet exactly and weight 210lbs. Even though I lost some weight, it was only fat I lost, and I’m mainly muscle now.” Tyler stands up and flex for his husband his new muscle, new pride. “Holy shit! It seems you are even bigger than yesterday? Will you keep growing?” “No, serum should wear off, but we have 2 more and if what I saw on forum is true this day will be interesting.” “Do you know how are you going to use them? What part is going to change?” “You will see, but for now I want to enjoy this, let’s go to the gym to see my limits.” “Do you really want to go to the gym on Saturday?” “Yes, I believe you will like it, maybe even more than me. So go grab your gym bag.”: said Tyler again with his lower voice. “You know I can’t say no if you say it like that, it practically cheating.” ===================================================Part 3================================================== “We are here!” “Yea, I’m “super” hyped.” “Don’t be like that pumpkin, we came here to test my new muscles.” “No, you came here to test your new muscles, I came here because I got charmed by you and till I realized what happened we were here.” “Excuses, get your ass inside." "Fine, but I’m just going to watch. I have plenty of training during the week, I want to relax during the weekend." "Boo-hoo one more day of training. You cand do cardio instead of eating sweats you like so much and It’s not like you would be able to spot me :P" After they changed clothes and some additional whining form Jake, they entered training area. Tyler when right for the weights and Jake for the treadmill. After and half hour Jake went buy some drinks, post workout shakes for Tyler and water for him to satiate his thirst after so much running. On the way out as he turned around, he slammed with his face into guy behind him. Drinks went flying. Shake cup splashed their whole content onto guys torso. Jake went pail, the guy was ripped, Jake knew that if this guy was on roids, what he was by his physique, he will end up purple from beating. He immediately started to apologize. With his T-shirt he tried to rub the shake off the guy. "Deeeam bunny, do you do this service to all dudes? Jakes eyes went wide, that huge, ripped guy was Tyler. "What the actual..." Tyler covered Jakes mouth with his hand. "Sir, we apologize for the mess, but we are in a hurry, sorry we can’t help to clean up the mess. “: With that Tyler grabbed Jakes hand and dragged him to the car. In car Jake got his senses back. "What the actual fuck happened to you? I thought you said there is no more growing. But look at you, you are huge." "And you are hard. “: Said Ty and grabbed Jakes hard cock in his pants. "Aa-aahhh, stop gripping it like that or I... aaaaAAAh“: Jake gripped Ty’s hand and with big difficulty he pushed it away with both hands. "Don’t worry I’m just teasing you, but we have to hurry home the main event is still waiting us at home." They were home in 10 minutes, whole drive Jake couldn’t look away from Tyler. He looked so big and manly now. Bigger, taller, Jake was winning only in crotch area now and not by lot after yesterday dose. During the ride Tyler wasn’t thinking about anything else, only about the main event that he kept from Jake and his cock only got harder just by thinking about it. If Jake thought this was hot, he was eager to know what Jake would think after. ===================================================Part 4================================================== After they entered the house Ty started to drag Jake to the bedroom, but Jake stopped Ty right way. "Ty I really need a shower and you are too. You are still sticky from the shakes!" "Don’t be a buzz kill bunny, this one will be special I promise!" "I’m down for shower fuck, would that be a possibility?" "I think that would make my surprise even more fun. “: Said Tyler with devilish grin. "Oke, so let’s go." "Go there first, I just have to take something with me." "Hmmm, I will be waiting." Tyler went into the living room and took out last two syringes with him. In bathroom Tyler placed syringes on the sink counter and flex in the mirror. He loved how buff he was, and his cock loved that too. He stands on the scales and it showed 235lbs. "Fuck, I’m huge." "Were you saying something?" "Yes, I said open the shower door and watch!" "What are you talking abo...." When Jake opened the door he saw Tyler, muscles pumped with blood to brim making him look even bigger and his cock almost purple how hard he was, holding both syringes. "There is a theory, about these syringes. The reason they took them out of the shelves and now are heavy regulated. If you have “ALPHA” gene and use this serum on your balls and back of your head at the same time, in places closest to your testosterone and growth glands you can activate this gene. "What? But those guys are so rare to see there are only in thousands in whole world!" "And I’m going to became one of them. WATCH!" As Tyler said those words, he grabbed the syringes. First one went between his cock and ball sack and second one was shoved into top of his neck near the spine. Since this was the second dose of the serum the changes begun instantly. Tylers whole body cramped making him look more defined, after the muscles relaxed, they started to grow even bigger. First his pec grew into huge melon sized pillows, his nicely cut abs, now they each shaped like a brick sticking out one inch each. His back was next, huge lats like wings were pushing his still small arms away from his core body. His back was now full of valleys form all that bulging muscles fighting for space. After back it was time for hands, the shoulders grew into the size of bowling ball, biceps into Cantaloupe the rest of the hands grew into size to match. His legs started to shake, first from the weight that grew on top of them but later from their own growth. Tylers legs became huge tree trunks, one leg was bigger than Jakes chest. When all muscles stop growing his veins popped out. Huge pencil size veins. Tyler roared, seeing only red from so much testosterone. His hair grew longer and got wild shape, his clean shaved chin grew thick twelve o’clock shadow. From this whole growing Jake noticed not only Tylers muscles but also heigh increased. From 6,1 into 7,85. He looked like real alpha from news. Tyler looked in direction of scared Jake. Jakes heart was beating for his life and was horny as never before. His husband just grew in front of his eyes into muscular, wild looking alpha. Tyler waked into the shower corner, he had to duck and enter sideways. Jake was pushed into the corner. Tyler was so big now that water from shower head was poured only on his wide back fully covering Jake from getting more water on him. "Don’t worry it’s not over yet. The fun part aaaAHH-AAAhhh Haaa-ha it’s still coming. “: Said Tyler with deep voice, the voice was even deeper than the voice he used to taunting Jake to get him going. Tyler pointed in into his crotch. His balls started to inflate, from grapes into lemons then big oranges and ended up as two grapefruits tightly fitted into still not adapted ball sack. The rush of huge amount of testosterone got Tyler into overdrive.His clean shaved face grew beard and made his face more rugged. He roared like wild beast he now was. His whole body flexed and grew even more, as he was leaning on the wall with his right hand the tiles behind his hand cracked. Tyler felt it’s time for his cock. "It’s time! ": Tyler shouted. With his huge hands he grabbed Jake, he tried to protest but the grip wasn’t like in the car on the way here. This time it was like he was held by machine. No matter how hard he tried, it looked like Tyler didn’t even noticed there was any attempt of escape. Jake looked down and saw that Tyler is lowering him on his angrily red, metal hard cock. Tyler didn’t wait and just shoved his dick in. "AAAAaaah" They both screamed, both from pleasure and pain. "It is starting!" As these words were spoken, Tylers cock started to twitch. With each pulse his cock grew. Jake realized it right away and it was not only growing inside of him but outside too. Tylers base of his cock was getting so big it was slowly pushing itself out from Jake ass. "Not a chance! “: Screamed Tyler and shoved Jake back to the base of his cock. “Last time I felt the bond because I was so close to Alpha hood but this time, THIS TIME! I will forge it. And then you will be only mine!" Jake didn’t understand since Alphas never talked much about their bond since for them and their partners the bond was sacred. Only thing that was known was that bond was something that bonded two of them for their life. It was not possible to remove it and only way to make new bond was if the "beta" partner died before "alpha". And rumors were that there were other strong abilities that bond had. But Tyler now knew, no, more like felt what he needed to do. He felt his cock throb with each of his heartbeat. With each throb the cock grew bigger, thicker and the veins became big as a pen. Jake could feel the ridges of the veins adding on pleasure. He felt like Ty’s dick was almost in his chest. The feeling was crazy. "T-T-Ty! Ty! Tyler! ": Cried Jake. "I can’t, please, pull it out, AAAAAaaaa-aaahhhh. I’m scared, I’m scared of you, put me down." "Shut up! You talk too much. I’m in charge now! If I say something, you do it!” Tyler pulled out his cock, it was huge, at least twice of Jakes cock. In front of Jake was over foot big cock. It had to be at least 14 inches long. "God, no wonder I felt I was filling you up whole. My cock is almost as long as your torso and thick as your arm, no bigger! My transformation for now it seems to be over, time to do the bond." "Tyler, you can’t think you can shove it back into me. ": Cried Jake. Tyler hand flew next to the Jake head into the wall behind him, but this time it wasn’t only tiles that gave up. Tyler made hole through the wall. With his other hand Tyler took Jake by his neck and lift him till Jakes legs we no longer touching the floor. "You dare to defy me! You are mine! ": Tylers scream was so loud Jake felt all his bones inside him. His neck was starting to form bruises. Tyler pulled out his hand out of the wall and let he of Jakes net. He grabbed his legs instead. Now only things that was supporting Jake were Tylers hands and wall behind him. Tyler aimed his cock into Jakes ass and forcefully penetrated Jake. Tyler started mercilessly fucking Jake. Jake was screaming, from pain from the grip on his legs and huge cock that was coming out and in from his ass. He felt like something was breaking inside him. Not his body but inside his spirit. "I feel it, YES! I’m fucking FEEEL IT!" "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaahh!" Screamed Jake as Tyler for last time shoved his cock inside. Jakes whole body spasm from body orgasm and all that movement was just supporting Tyler huge orgasm. Jake cock shot so hard it hit Tylers face. Tyler meanwhile came so hard it pushed Jake from his cock and felt on the ground where he wasn’t safe. The stream of cum continued as Tylers balls tried to empty all the content. Tyler also couldn’t hold himself standing and felt to his knees overwhelmed from the orgasm. The cock still shooting thick ropes of cum covering whole Jakes body. Jake was still shaking but even Jake didn’t know from what. Was it from that strong body orgasm? Or the stress and how much scared he was from Tyler now? He didn’t know. Tyler rinsed himself and left the shower with Jake on the floor. After a while Jake made attempt to stand up but found out he had to unstick himself from the wall he was connected by Tylers cum. He washed himself and went to the bed. His legs hurting as hell. Tyler was already in bed taking most of. Jake decided it would be best if he don’t sleep with Tyler in same bed so left to lay down on the couch and after a short cry, he fell asleep.
  17. Hey there, as a passionate fan of @GiganticBeast's massive fan(a)tasies I finally decided to collect my drafts of "stolen" text-sheds and made a (improved) transcript. Whilst doing it I learned lots of hidden techniques in telling growth by just "All Dialoge" and the art of doing those audios with driving passion and good one-man voice-acting. I also loved the way of sharing fantasies in fantasies... and MAN there you go with the hot ideas to give all listeners/readers a proper boner! And yes, I enjoyed this particular scenario a LOT. I hope you do as well! Best experience would be to read this while listening to it! Enjoy! :3 -------- Source of the edited audio-transcript: Pornhub - gigantic_beast – “Servicing a Raunchy Growing Trucker” (GiganticBeast @ Twitter) - https://de.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5f17482069df0 The trucker and the boy A door closes with heavy steps haling in a toilet-room. An old ventilator causes noises in the background. The steps approach a clanging pissoir. The big noisemaking man moans in relieve while strong pissing-noises break the otherwise calm environment… „Oooooooohhh, there we go… Ooh fuck-“ The sound of pissing vanishes abruptly as the man catches someone filming… „Huh? … … Hey! Ha… Wanna take a picture, boy? It will last longer that way.“. He flushes the toilet and steps towards the intruder – a young and a head shorter man… „No no. Don’t back away now! Come on! You won’t get to be modest now. I see the cellphone there. Did you think you can sneak a pic of that fat fucking cock and go back to your girlfriend at the parking lot? Is that what you thought?” The small man is silent in shock and glances at the big man, making him chuckle… „Go on, put yours out!“ The small man falls silent in surprise and looks confused at the big man … „Yeah, you heard me! You saw mine, now let’s see yours.”. The small man asks whether he shall put away the camera … “No, leave it filming!” Then there is an unsure silence of what to do … “Come on, take your little dick out! I can see it throbbing against those tight pants of yours.“. The small man’s slowly pulls down his trousers … „Ughh… Fuck, stop going so SLOW!“. With new loud steps the big man approaches the boy like a bull … „I don’t have all day for this. Get over here!“. He makes some noises by fumbling with his big hands … „Ah fuck, you’re hard as hell, aren’t you?” The bull sighs by the almost mockable sight of having a small rock-hard man-meat in his hand… “God, that‘s as big as it gets?” Then there is an embarrassed silence of truth … „Shit, boy, mine’s not even half hard and I am TWICE as fucking big…” The small man’s interested look makes the big man up for action… “That’s what you wanted to see, huh? Your little girlfriend waiting outside-“ The sound of a first little stretching makes the big man groan for a moment… “-waiting for YOU…“. More stretching, halting with a moan… „Guh… God, have you any idea of what you are in here for? For fucking hours, I bet, you just wait to see some big fat fucking trucker cock, don’t you?“. Another pulse of stretch… „Hayeah, you film it and then go home and worship it, don’t you?” In a short silence the small horny man stares embarrassed and simultaneously desperately hungry for touching … “Fucking beg me for it then, boy! Fucking beg me for this big fat cock, you little-dicked boy-bitch! Go ahead and ask me for it!” A modest question is being asked … “Ah yeah… Tell me how bad you need it! Say ‘Beast sir, can I PLEASE touch your big fat swelling god cock?’. Do it! Fucking SAY IT!“. Hearable swelling with a pleasured moan of delight follows as the demanded words are punnily repeated - more willingly said than both could have imagined … „Oh yeah! Here... Can you see it growing? Do you see it getting harder? Oh yeah, look at those veins up and down on it!” Accumulating ripping and moaning with groans of pleasure. A hearable building excitement whilst the sound of skin being rubbed slowly. First parts of the man’s clothes start to stretch… “Oh yeah! Feel it thr-THROB… like the veins of my big bowlingball-biceps! You haven’t seen a man like this, have you? I am a fucking dream come true to you, aren’t I? How many times have you-” An intense thump of growth and longer moan of the big man follows… “-have you dragged your little girlfriend out to this truckstop – desperate for something like this?”. Short mocking and giggling as the boy gazes amazed … „Tell me you dream of this! That I am a fucking-”. Sound of a first big rip occurs… „-dream come true for you. Oh yeah, I am something you have been jacking your little dick off to since you are a teen… Go ahead!” Another mocking and pleased giggle as the gaze of the boy continues to drool… „Go ahead, you can touch it. I know you are fucking dying to. Get your little hands around this fat monster! Feel it!“ A fat intense stretch down south with another slight moan underlines the moment… “Uhh yeah… -feel it!” A steady growth continues with noisy rumbling. Skins touch with anticipation with moans and groans. The big man pauses every now and then because of the stretching happening … “Yeah, feel it-. Huh-ye, its big and I am a grower too… … … Aaah yeah, feel your fingers around that fat fucking shaft! Run that thumb up my … uhh yeah … up my veins, down the back. Do you feel that(?) … pumpin’ … and … grooowin’, pushing your fingers apart… … yeah! Fuck … huhhh … I want you to picture this when you’re fucking that girl of yours out there. Picture MY fat god damn-“ A short surge rumbles through the room… “-BEAST … Ooh, yeah … growing and … STRETCHING her apart as you are begging me for just a little taste of it… oh, yeah … this is what a MAN’s cock is. This is what a BEASTs cock i-hh-s-Ohhhh… … Almost pushing you back there, ai righ’? God DAMN, this feels good!“. Huffing with a smile and a chuckle sound as the boy moans in anticipation… „You are trembling, boy. You are like a dog who chase cars and you finally got one. What you gonna do with it now?”. A slight thud on the ground… „Ooh, on your knees already? FUuuck… I like thaat!“. The boy growls of surprise and ask a question of wondering about the big cock… „Yeah, it‘s still growing…“. The small man asks about the measurements… „Uh no, I don‘t know how big it gets, I never measured…”. The big man huffs in pleasure. Steady unnoticeable growth coming calmly through as there is a longer moment of calm. Comments off disbelieve are being spoken… „Do I look like I am fucking kiddin‘? Oohh, yeah, just LICK that monster! Slide that tongue-hh… up and … OH … hooooh-” A big breather of surprise whilst a halt of growth underlines the statement… “Oh BOY, right inside of you! There you go!” Rumbles of growth happen in three mini-waves with rippling clothes plus a growl – indicating the pleasant blowjob… “FUCK, god, I’m so hot … you make me … feel so fucking … BIIGhh …” A question about the strange noises follows… „What? … Ah yeah … don’t worry about that sound! Just … keep worshiping that big … fat fucking cock. … Oh yeah…” Another obvious question arises to the small man… „Nah, it‘s just getting hard … People don’t fucking grow like that, man … just … fucking enjoy it! Put it up against your arm! Yeah, it is fatter than your wrist already.“. Interruption Sudden noises from outside appear. The big man grunts in disturbance. Pulling out, a growl happens with the teeth grinding against the cockhead… „Uhgn-shit! ... Arrrhh... Someone is coming… Ghh… Get into the fucking stall! I am not done with you yet.“. With quick steps and pushing of bodies the big man closes the door to the stall and locks it bearably. Low volume grunts of relieve and a short silence are followed by the opening of the main door to the toilet-room. Hearable steps of high heels are coming in. Halting steps lead to sudden two knocks on the recently closed stall… „Its occupied…“ The woman stubbornly but vainly pulls on the doorhandle… „I SAID its occupied!“. A loud whiff and a sight of the person reacts to the deep rumbling impatient statement. She leaves the room which gets silent again. After moments of only the ventilator vibrating, the boy complains about being cramped. A comment which makes the deepened voice regaining volume and breath in and out excitedly … „Ye, this stall IS tiny. I fucking love it. I feel … huuhh-“. A pleasured grunt with a hearable flap against skin by the big grown man happens… „... so… BIIIG! … fuck yeah…“ Hilarious short laughter follows by the big man as the boy stares in utter surprise - awkwardly starring. Then boy then asks about the big man’s height … “What? No, I was always that tall. Calm down! Get fuckin-“ The bigger man growls in pleasure, whilst the pull of the boy’s head onto the big cock happens… “-get fucking sucking, boy!”. Then there is lots of fapping and wet noises of lips and blow-jobbing… „Fuck, this is incredible!” The boy asks his first question again… “Ye, it just wasn’t hard, right? It wasn’t all the way hard yet, right? Just…” The boy mumbles in curiosity and asks about its final size. “No, I don’t know how big it gets… just keep-Guh-” Moan of pleasure… „God, yeah, keep touching! Keep STROKING!”. Sloshes of one cum-shot seed into the boy's mouth and another one onto the floor. Stunned and overwhelmed by the big load the boy asks whether the big man just came… „Ohh, whaaat? Can‘t you take a little pre?” A loud shout of disbelief of the boy sounds around. He states something hilarious, making the big man laugh … “Hahaha! FUCK me… boy, you never even suck a cock?!” Silence. The boy nods… “God, I swear if I feel your tooth for another second I gonna fucking break your jaw with my cock!” Gasp of surprise happens as the boy states an interfering wish… „Hhh-fuck yeah… What? You wanna… you wanna feel the rest of me? Fine, fine, feel what you want…“ The big man moans in delight. Both are heavily breathing in due the satisfaction by the hot-blooded worship… “Go ahead, yeah. You can-“ The first surge of growth after the interruption intervenes – being silently controlled… “-feel my legs.” The big man gasps in utter surprise… „Fuck… they gotta be THICK already! Have to be under my rig all day… MAN, and look at those fucking guns! I am a fucking-“ The big man growls pleased and massively turned on by his observation… „-BEAST!“. Slightly louder more prominently sounds of stretching reappear, making the boy ask again… „I said: Don’t mind that sound! I am just … huhh … focus on those balls! Pull them out for me!“ Little extra growth happens due to the groping and kneading of the balls… “Ohhh, fuck them now… My jocks are getting so tight!”. The boy suddenly asks whether he grows bigger all over… „Growin’? What the fuck are you talking about? Just feel them! Aren‘t they big enough already?” The boy comments in astonishment of the massive balls in his hands… “Yeah! They fucking fill your whole palm, don’t they? Oh yea... they are FULL of fucking cum cause I am a brawny boy. And I haven’t released them in fucking WEEKS. Is that what you want? Your sweet little girlfriend out there you picture yourself getting choked and huh-“ Hornyness accelerates growth spurt while imagining the mentioned Sex. Starts of intense groaning while talking… „-and gagging hooh-“ More intense stretching… A BIG horny moan and growling out of the big man’s throat happens… “-cuffing up gallons of some THICK fucking trucker cum… OH yes… some BIG muscle bulged trucker just PUMPIN’ you full.” The spurt ends while his voice deepens a bit… “There you go… Fuck this stall is tiny!”. The massive man laughs as nothing but another obvious observation happens … „No, I have always been this tall. God, are you even standing? God, I have always bein’ this big. You always just got up to my packs when you got in here. What are you fucking talking about?“ The boy persists on his statement… „Ohh fuck. Who cares how tall I was earlier? A loud full rip of the big man’s shirt ends the discussion… “Yeah, my shirt’s tight. It’s fucking old already… I just rip it off-“ Some extra growth makes the shirt go loosen even quicker. The big man audibly suppresses the urge to growth with breather of sweat… „-huhhh. Fuck me… I am just getting pumped, alrighty? Yeahhh… Fuck, I love the sight of you reach me on your tiptoes-Ooooh-“ The big man loves the view and widens a bit more with a roar… “Just try to feel these fucking traps!” “Successfully distracted” the boy then comments amazed by how wide the big man is … “YEh, my shoulders are fucking BROAD!” The shoes The big man then suddenly gasps in pain… “Fuck these boots are TIGHT... God, I am so BIG… Go on, get down back on your knees, boy, and take those off from me!“ Kneeling down the boy then starts to work as commanded… “Oh fuck yeah, unlace these!” Slowly the boy tries to unlace the heavy boots and fails on the knots… „Oh fuck! Shit seems to be popping already. Ye, I am SO… big…” The boy asks about his shoe-size… „Size 16. Ye, I think these are just getting old… Big fucking broad feet on this field-hopped boots…” A stronger growth spurt happens accompanied by the man’s deepening voice. He rips his trousers and slowly tears open his shoes. He underlines the command with a breather of hurry… “HURRY UP! Fucking get those laces off before…“ Another surge with a vividly tried suppression by holding the big man’s breath occurs… „…BEFORE…“. In the same moment visible stretching of his feed pop through the garment. Groaning and a final looong ripping with a loud moan of delight sound through the room… „FUCK mee…” A silent moment of accusation starring follows as the boots fully ripped in two. Boy repeats his question regarding the unbelievable stated foot-size… “Yeh! They were old, alright? They were old boots. I am so big! And I told you: Size 18. Jesus Christ! Listen boy, look… what you made me do!” The boy once more accuses the massively buffed up man of growing… “No! My feet aren’t too big for me, you were just to fucking slow! That’s why that happened! God, can’t get my fucking sized 20 feet in those fucking shoes anymore, thanks to you!“ The boy resigns. He asks for another favour instead… „Yea, fine, put it to your chest!” Feeling the boy exploring the massive man’s feet are a new sight to his liking – so he growls in appreciation… “Feel all that sweat of that fucking beast sucking through your shirt, ey?“ Laughing and scoffing of the big man follows as the small one comments about the puddle of pre on the floor and watches the massive man sitting on the creaking toilet as he lifts his massive legs up to the small chest – completely covering it… „Oh hot! You’ve got a good sucking on that fucking big toe… ey? Growin’ in your mouth…” Further moaning in pleasure sound deeply through the room. Short noises of growth while pleasured exhalation happen. Hands wander onto the massive hairy legs. The beast groans out loudly as the hands audibly but vainly squeezes the muscle with all might… „Fuck yeah… Your hands up and down on my calf … they almost… fuck they already ARE as big as your thigh… even bigger!” The smaller man then surprises the big man, making him breath in in surprise, causing some more stretching and a moan in pleasure… „Rock hard muscles… growing… throbbing … BULGING…“ In horny exhalation the big beast swears words in pleasure. The boy finally interrupts. He heard multiple times what he wanted to hear and mocks that he surely is not lying the whole time… „Fuck… What?! No, I didn’t say ‘growing’. Fuck … God, this little stall is so… claustrophobic. It’s so tiny, isn’t it?” The huge man giggles and gasps in uncertainty for a moment… “Fuck…” The boy states literal hard facts making the giant hearably shaking his head… „Nah, I always was shoulder to shoulder with these metal fucking walls! … … Ooh god… Imma stand up here…“ A loud stomp shakes the ground as the feet force to the ground and pump up the beast right to the ceiling… „Fuck me … Godhhh …”. Exhaustedly breathing, the boy innocently asks again whether he always was THAT tall… „No, I was always scraping the fucking ceiling! I came in here, crouching, 10 feet tall … fucking … big… broad…” Unwantedly growing again, he groans while he verbally defends himself… “My clothes were hanging off of me when I got in here. I was… I got this … ah … condition and ah … oh fuck, I can’t even…”. The ridiculous situation makes him thunder a chuckle… „Look at your fucking face!” The huge man laughs surrendering as he noticeably realizes his ridiculous sounding excuse… “Nah, I don’t care anymore… Yeah, I am fucking GROWING.”. He gasps passionately as he surges up a little bit once again. His growth makes his voice-deepening mentionable within his coming words… „Fuck, I am getting MASSIVE as you fucking worship me! … Oh my goood … yeahhhh… I’ve… I have never gotten this BIG before… Oh shit…” Suddenly the even hairier trucker-belly growls loudly, slowly begins to wobble and swells out with gurgling noises… “Here is my fucking roid-gut swelling out there for you, boy! Ripping out that shirt…”. Stunned by the giant bear in front of him, the huge man’s hand engulfs the boy’s waist without resistance. His small cock throbs in his pants as the huge man sets him onto the giant's thick two foot long hard, pre oozing and throbbing shaft. By offset almost his height in the air, the boy holds onto the giant’s waist, discovering the growing valleys of rippling muscles and even thicker growing hair… “Ah yeah… Get these fingers in between those GROOVES!“ Pleasure and passion are mixing up audibly as the boy pets the giant’s abs-valley in trance of sheer wish fulfilment … „Ooh yeah! Feel it! Feel the hair getting so thick… Grab a fucking fistful of my pelt there, boy.” Maximally teased the boy moans and feels his pants wetting with pre… “Don’t you come yet! I never had some growing this BIG…” He moans as he swells up another inch in all directions… “Never had someone who is so fucking … dumb’n … fucking EAGER to see me-“ An even greater spurt passes through, which makes the giant gush out a sloshing load… “-HOH! … see me GROWING!“ The spurt continues in shrinking waves – for now… „Oh my god. All these little lot-sluts were running away from me before I am 8 feet tall but … but YOU … you are so fucking cock-hungry, you made me so-“ The spurt recedes with a thumping extra on top… „-hhhmm… SOO… FUCKING… BIG! … … Oooh, boy, I won’t be even able to fit into my own rig after this…“ Thinking of busting his own truck makes him noticeably enjoying the moment even more… ”Go on! You want it? You are on it, right?” Hearty laughing at the LUSTFULL stare of his little buddy he moans in mere pleasure… “Ohh… GOD, YEAH… You are fucking terrified, YEAH. But … you wanna feel that big fat fucking cock inside of you before it … hhh … before I get too big to fit, don’t ya? Go on, you want it. You-“ Mixing swearing, grunting and moaning triggers a sudden new wave of growing … “-oh wanna FEEL my FAT cock growing … and… STRETCHING! Come on, get me in there… hhh…” He growls hungry and does the work of ripping of the last of the little one’s clothes, accompanied by small spurt as the tip of his huge cock docks the small ass… “Ooh fuck yeah! You are so fucking tight, boy… I gonna lie down here…“ Too much for the beast Objects are rumbling away as the giant thuds onto the ground and leans against the wall. He gasps in sudden surprise… „What are you-” He abruptly moans LOUDLY in a new form of delight… “Oh GOD YEAH! You LIKE these big fucking nimps, ey? Go on, make’em fucking thumb-thick beast GROW in your mouth!“ Something builds up with every lick… „OHhh yeah… hhhh … I am so BIG … I’m so HARD… Look what you have done to me, boy! I’M … GROWING … SO … BIG!” A sudden pump in all directions fly by with an intense growl of the beast. He gasps and chuckles in horny surprise… “Oh-Oh my god! I don’t… I don’t think I can control it anymore… I don’t think I-“ He chuckles, getting lost in the moment … “I don’t think I control-” Another bigger thud… “Oh my god!” Pump… “Can you feel this boy? Can-“ PUMP… “-HHH! Can you feel your bod’ sliding against mine as I GROW underneath you …? Fuuuck! Lying on the floor … growing across… ugggrh!” The giant moans in utter pleasure as the unsteady growth spurt is gaining speed. Meanwhile more objects are pushed away. The stretching of the beast is rumbling and intensifying. Room-filling grunts of effort thunder through the half-filled room… “… knocking those stalls out the way… I can’t even control. I can’t take it anymore … Fuck me, the walls are squeezing on me here. I can barely get … oh god … barely get a full breath! I feel so… Oh god… I feel so cramped as I … as I GROW-“ Rest of the stalls are crumbling. The walls are getting damaged with the growth furtherly intensifies. The huge man’s voice thunders even more loudly and deeply… “… I AM GROWING INTO THAT BRUTE… OH MY GOD, I’VE NEVER GOTTEN THIS BIG… BUT I LOVE IT! FUCK ME. I CAN’T STOP GROWING AND STRETCHING YOU LIKE A FLASHLIGHT AROUND MY COCK! I AM NOT FUCKING YOU ANYMORE. I AM JACKING OFF WITH YOUR LITTLE BODY…” Swearing, moaning and gasping is mixing with rumbling. The giant is bursting up and up with loud moans in pleasure, growing even some more quicker… “GOD, I AM SOAKING IN SWEAT… GO AHEAD BOY, GET YOUR FACE UP IN THIS PIT!” The huge man moans from the small barely conscious man then just trying to touch him on his sides. Little surges with hungry moans of liking the view accompanies with the groaning, which mixes with enjoyment of a steady growing, making the suddenly very tight room fills audibly whilst the boy gasps in awe of the total view… “I COULD FUCKING CRUSH YOU WITH A FLEX, BOY, BUT I AM NOT GONNA… JUST … HOHHH… IT FEELS SOO GOOD. OOHH, YEAH, FUCKING LICK YOUR WAY, LITTLE BOY… OOHH FUCK ME… MY COCK GROWING SO BIG INSIDE OF YOU! FEEL IT! FEEL IT THROBBING AGAINST YOUR BACK. I AM GROWING INSIDE OF YOU SO MUCH. OH GOD, LIKE A HOOLIGAN.“. More stretching and rumbling happen. depending on the little one’s actions. „ITS AMAZING! BIGGER… BIGGER … AND BIGGER! FUCK, YES!“ Rumbling spurts are filling the room more and more and more whilst the giant grows even bigger, bigger and bigger… „FUCKING MONSTROUS BEAST… OH MY GOD, I CAN’T EVEN MOVE MY ARMS. THEY ARE PINNED AGAINST THE WALLS. MY LEGS ARE FUCKING CURLING UP HERE. OHHH, MY TRAPS SWALLOWING MY HEAD. BOY, YOU GOT ME GROWING OUT OF CONTROL HERE!“ Suddenly everything calms a bit as the giant's knees reach the ceiling and his feet the other side of the room… „FUCK! IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED? FUCKING GETTING… CRUSHED BY A GROWING MUSCLE BULL IN A FUCKING DIRTY TRUCKSTOP-” Building up pressure, clamped between walls, the beast moans in pressure and disbelieve. The rumbling multiplies. Suddenly another burst rumbles through the whole mountain of a man. Pump… pump… PUMP… “-OOOOH, YOU LITTLE FUCKING BITCH?!“ The air slowly connects with the outside as his head digs with increasing force through the ceiling. The enormous head is booming off and out of the buildings roof. A loud moaning fills the air as the giant’s head comes to fresh… „OH MY GOD, THERE GOES THE FUCKING ROOF! I CAN BREATHE AGAIN AT LEAST!“ Everything is rumbling as the giant stands up and chuckles monstrously. Now, also the walls are collapsing. Thundering in excitement he damages the ground and everything around as he steps and stabilizes… „AH SHIT! THERE IS YOUR GIRL! YOU… WANNA SAY ME ANYTHING TO HER…? OR MAYBE WE LET HER JOIN THE FUN?”
  18. tester26

    Teenage Destroyers

    This was an attempt to write a snuff story that is based on the Teenage Destroyers series on Snufflovers. It may not be to your tastes. You have been warned. TEENAGE DESTROYERS PART 7 "You should have seen the tight bitch I fucked last week. For a virgin she sure screamed like a whore." Nick chuckled to his friend Tony. "Too bad she wasn't able to take all of my cock." "I'm fucking tired of bitches complaining about getting fucked. Whatever hole I pound, I wanna go hard and fucking balls deep, man." Tony agreed. At only 18, Tony and Nick looked sculpted from marble with 8-pack abs, ripped muscle, and big, firm asses. They were fucking 300-pound teen musclegods. Most days, they showed up at the gym without shirts, their bodies were accentuated by the sweat that glistened off their smooth skin as they worked out. "Fuck, all this talk about bitches has me so fucking boned up, I wouldn't mind a blowjob from a faggot." Tony squeezed his semi through his loose red basketball shorts. Nick's eyes scanned around the lockers, spotting Tom, a thin seedy-looking punk a few lockers away pulling a blunt out of his locker. His lips curled into an evil smile. "I've got an idea. " Nick said, as he slipped off his shorts. A grin of understanding curled on Tony's face and his eyes expanded with glee and quickly stripped as well. "Ah shit...fuckin' love you dude." Nick and Tony rush and corner Tom against his locker. "What's up bitch?" Tony announced. A sound, barely perceptible escaped Tom's lips. "So you're the asshole stinking up the lockers with your fucking blunts, huh?" Nick boomed. Tom shuddered, his head barely reaching up to the shoulders of the two studs. He was less than half the size of either Nick or Tony, and his eyes were filled with a mix of lust and fear. Before him was the naked, hulking body of the teenage bodybuilder Nick. Tom speechlessly ogled the vast expanse of the pectoral muscle that blocked his exit from one side. Nick's arms hung loose at his sides, the biceps unflexed yet still so unbelievably huge and wide. Tom's eyes admired the solid rack of abdominal muscles, then followed the curves of the sculpted obliques as they flowed into a pair of legs so heavily laden with muscle that no one could doubt their monstrous power. Between those pillars, Nick's thick 12 inch cock stood at full attention, nearly pressing into Tom's belly. To his side was Tony, nearly equal in mass and just as naked. His pecs were swollen from the blast he'd just given them. His deltoids were huge and rounded, still engorged with blood from the overhead presses, the detailed serrations still visible. He grinned evilly and he stroked his own massive cock. "Time to teach you a fucking lesson!" Tom didn't stand a chance. Nick picked him up and easily picked him up and threw him onto the bench. "Ahhh!!" the punk cried as he struck the edge of the bench. To Nick, Tom was just a toy. A fucktoy that he could use and brutalize in any way he wanted. And God did he want to! He wanted to use his hard 12 inch cock like a weapon to stab the little shit with. He wished his cock was twice as long and three times as thick, so he could fuck the little shit until his organs had turned into mush. He'd use his horse cock to fill Tom up with so much jizz, it would be forced to drip out of his mouth, nose, ears and eyes. Nick straddled the punk, pressed his ass on the boy's upper body, and squeezed his muscular thighs to pin the kid's arms in place. Meanwhile, Tony got on his knees in front of the bench, his massive cock at the perfect height to enter the fuckbag's mouth. Tony immediately shoved his cock head in the punk's mouth. The 11 inch dick was the biggest, longest, fattest thing Tom had ever had in his mouth. He had less than a third of his rod in when he hit the back of the Tom's throat. Tony applied strong pressure on the kid's head and felt his hard dick continue its long journey down the slut's pipe. The massive tip was acting like a snow plow, sending the small organs to the sides, bumping against his little heart, rearranging his tubes and slowly making its way down the punk's body. It was pure delight for the muscle teens to watch all 11 inches of thick teen cock make its way deep in Tom's throat. "Holy fucking shit, yes!!!" The stud shoved the toy's head down with cruelty to get the large base of his huge cock in the slut's obscenely widened mouth. Just as Tony's trimmed pubes touched Tom's stretched lips, Nick felt a bump under his ballsack. "Fuuuuuuuuuck, man! Your cock is poking through his stomach. I can feel it on my nuts, it's fucking crazy." Tony enjoyed the incredible feeling of having all 11 inches of his enormous cock buried to the root in someone's throat. Even when Tom started to choke and tried to move his head, the way he squirmed felt amazing. Occasionally, Tony would withdraw enough to let the living cumdump breathe before he shoved all the way back in, his balls slapping over Tom's nose and eyes. Nick got up and Tom's arms immediately flailed around but Tony quickly pinned them down to the bench. With one hand, Nick lined up his footlong cock to its target and brutally thrust his whole cock into the kid's colon with a sickening squish. Tom's head was shoved hard against Tony's crotch and the gigantic cock was pushed even further down, the outline of his dick head clearly visible through Tom's chest. Tom's scream was muffled by Tony's meat as he was violated by a second, even larger, cock. "Fuuuuuuuuuuck, that's so freaking hot!" Tony panted. "That's it, slut, feel my cock push against your little heart. You got muscle all around you! Huh you like that? Bet I could snuff you with just my dick. Shoot you so full of cum your goddamn head would explode!" They pulled almost all of their thick poles out of Tom, and then rammed all of themselves back into the small, frail body as hard as they could. In perfect sync, Tony and Nick pistoned their living toy with long hard thrusts. The former ravaged the punk's throat and punched the bottom of his stomach, all the while smashing his teen balls on Tom's eyes and nose. The latter battered the kid's internal organs, forming a footlong fuck tunnel that ran from asshole to sternum. The punk's esophagus and colon were so incredibly tight as they gripped and moved with the teens' cocks. Both teens kept changing the speed, tilting the punk backwards so that Nick's massive tool was pushing against the toy's stomach walls and making it bulge out. "Fuck! You can almost see the veins on your dick through the bitch's stretched guts," Tony marveled. Nick rubbed his hands over the bulge, enjoying the feeling of Tom's insides wrapped tightly around his shaft. Tom was used like a fleshlight, with such wild abandon that when both studs pulled out, it looked as if Tom deflated. But when the two teen gods shoved their pricks back to the hilt, Tom's small body seemed to double in size. Their cocks bumped against one another, as they raped the young punk, was just the cherry on top of the muscle sundae. "This fuckbag is tight as shit, man!" Nick shouted. "I know, bro!" Tony screamed. "His throat is clasping my dong like a motherfucking vice-grip!" Both teens increased their speed at which they pummeled Tom's throat and colon, slamming their massive teen tools in the most ferocious manner, not caring if the living cumdump could take it or not. Sweat ran down their tight abs and dripped all over Tom's body. But they were already close. Their thrusts became more erratic, and out of sync. They both held Tom's sides, four big teen hands squeezing the punk's mid-section, almost completely encircling it. The studs felt both their massive cocks move in and out of the teen beneath their fingers. Jabbing their massive fucktools balls deep inside the rag doll one last time and their cocks spasmed, shooting pure alpha cum into the middle of the punk's blown up body. Somehow, the punk managed to stay conscious during the whole ordeal. But with all 23 inches of cock pulsating each time a jet of hot teen semen shot inside him, Tom had no influx of oxygen and started to choke. He couldn't see nor hear anything besides his own heartbeat drum in his ears, while he frantically hit whatever he could with his small fists. But the slut's panic only fueled the studs' lust, and made them shoot even harder inside the boy. Tony and Nick came deep inside the little fuckbag for close to a minute. After their body wrenching orgasm, the 18 year old gods haphazardly pulled their dripping, still rockhard dicks out of Tom's holes. It was a bit surreal to watch nearly 24 inches of solid teen meat withdraw from the skinny body of a punk. Cum poured out of Tom's gaping ass like a waterfall as he coughed up Tony's load, gasping for air. Nick and Tony high fived over the punk's wrecked body and quickly switched places. Nick took the boy's head while Tony faced the narrow sloppy ass, and they pushed their jizz-covered, rock-hard shafts inside the worn out sextoy. "Fuck Tony, his throat is as tight as his ass..." Nick said as they both bottomed out. "I know, bro! I feel your jizz sloshing around in his guts! Let's see how much damage we can really do with our mother fucking cocks." Tony laughed. With almost 2 feet of massive dick buried to the hilt inside the punk, the two 18 year old teen jocks began to stand. They meticulously went from kneeling, to squatting, without ever pulling out. When they were on their feet, they started to rise while stepping to the side, away from the bench. Nick and Tony stood in the middle of the locker room: two god-like figures with firm round buttocks clenched with enthusiastic depravity, tight abs glistening with teenage sweat as their granite hard tools kept Tom in place. The studs were perfect fuck machines and had every intention of testing how relentlessly... ferociously... and remorselessly they were going to hammer and crush this punk's insides with their mighty pricks. The first fuck had just been a warm-up. Now they were ready to go all in... without any mercy for their toy. The studs hadn't started thrusting yet. They just kept their schlongs buried to the root inside Tom and looked directly at each other with an evil smirk. Both let go of the boy at the same time and put their hands behind their heads, showing off their muscled bodies. The punk was face up, suspended three feet above the ground, supported only by two rock solid teen dicks buried deep in his guts and the pressure from the studs' hips against his face and his ass. Once again, Tom suffered from a cruel lack of oxygen. His head was turning purple and he frantically moved his arms in the air, not even trying to hit the jocks using him. The studs grinned as the punk started to convulse, his little dicklet hard as a nail. But the ripped studs didn't budge. Giving up an inch would allow Tom to slide off Nick's dick and catch a breath. Tom shuddered and began to shake more violently. His little body was being spit roasted by 24 inches of massive teen schlongs. Nick and Tony could feel the fuckbag spasm around their cocks, his throat and ass muscles tightening, deliciously squeezing their fucktools. "Shiiiiiiit Nick, his insides are milking my cock! I can feel his heartbeat on my dick!" said Tony. "Fucking A, man! His motherfucking throat is getting tighter every time he tries to breathe!" Nick's own fat cock stretched Tom's esophagus to the limit, almost dislocating Tom's jaws. But the cumbag's spasms and shuddering slowed down, then suddenly stopped. His arms and legs came to a complete halt, and dropped on either sides of his body as he passed out. Finally, Nick and Tony moved their right hands under the punk to help support his weight and slowly pulled out, until just the heads were in Tom's holes. His insides stopped contracting and the teens were ready to enjoy another mind-blowing fuck. Tom automatically sucked in air while Nick's fat member left his throat. Of course that was only momentary. Both teen gods immediately pushed their shafts balls deep back inside the fucktoy. Not wasting any time, the 18 year olds sped up their thrusts, taking their dicks almost all the way out before they slammed them back to the root. They were still amazed by how deep they could shove their monster cocks and it felt so deliriously good to have their balls slap against the cumbag with every forceful stab. One can hardly imagine what it looks like when two huge teen cocks, each of them being almost the size of a baby's arm, punch fuck a punk boy's skull and ass in perfect synchronicity. Two incredibly sexy teen studs using every muscle in their massive teenage bodies to thrust their thick shafts without mercy, deliberately trying to destroy and break their living fucktoy in half. The athletic teen studs rammed the punk with such wild brutality it looked as if their cocks were going to tear through Tom's chest. Tom was twisted in such a way that his head was forced closer to his little butt and his guts was pushed upward. In that angle, Tony and Nick's porn-sized cocks slammed against the small chest and made it bulge out. The frail cum-filled body was being ravaged with unspeakable violence, but none of the teenage boys gave a shit about his well being. Tom's lifeless arms and legs bounced around with each sadistic jab as the studs used the punk like a punching bag for their cocks. They never spent more than a half second inside or outside the fuckbag. Instead, they constantly slammed the slut's ass and face with such ferocity that he would certainly be covered in mean, dark bruises before sundown. "Aw yeah, you're just a fucking toy. I'm gonna pulverize your guts. Fuckin drown you with my load!!!" Nick grunted. "Aw fuck dude," Tony growled, "Gonna break you, you little shit! End you with just this fucking monster cock! GONNA FUCKING DESTROY YOU!!!!" Nick and Tony slammed their cocks one last time inside the boy's unconscious body and began to breed the punk, completely dousing his insides with their thick, white seed. So much jizz was shot inside the punk, his stomach bloated like a balloon. About half of the 18 year old's mammoth rods tented Tom's stretched out belly and they could clearly see their heads pulse and nearly pierce through Tom's bulging chest with every jet of thick teen spunk. The two teens moaned in pleasure as they rode our their orgasms. Something about being drowned by two enormous loads caused Tom to cough and seize, but not wake up. Too caught up in their orgasm to care, the two teen gods rammed their 12 inch cocks in so roughly that Tom's head touched his butt, breaking his spine in half. *CRACK!!* "UH!-" the punk moaned, his soft body stopped twitching and went limp. Tony felt his cock brush against Nick's tool, their pricks only separated by two condom-thin membranes in the middle of Tom's body. Their huge teen dick heads touched inside the kid's guts, so close that Tony could feel Nick's cock throb as it blasted cum into the fucktoy. Nick pulled his hips back, adjusting himself before pushing his massive cock deep until he felt the dying punk's heart against his spurting cockhead. He moaned as he felt it pump desperately against his hard meat. He thrust his hips again, crushing the heart between his cock and the punk's ribs. "Aww fuck yeahhh..." Nick groaned. The two muscle gods slowly wound down, their cocks still pumping cum into the boy, as they savored the final moments of sexual pleasure and the feeling of the dead boy's spastic twitches. "That's good stuff..." Tony mumbled. Tony let out a long sigh as his cock fired the last of its spunk. "This is so fucked, I can feel your cock pulsing against mine!" He moved his hips from side to side, rubbing his tool against Nick's, and both of them shuddered. The studs slowly let the dead, cum-filled punk slide off their slick, deflating cocks right onto the bench with a thud. Long strings of cum, hung from the teens' cocks to the punk's gaping holes. Two rivers of white, tinged red with blood, poured out of the cum-bloated corpse and onto the ground. "Shit man. Now THAT was good." Tony smiled and looked at Nick. Nick grinned and flexed his enormous guns and began to feel the rock hard muscle with his other hand. He shook his quads, and lovingly caressed the muscle for a moment. "Yeah..." he shook his head with satisfaction. Nick slapped him a high-five.
  19. 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.*
  20. BrutalPowerDemon

    THE AWAKENING

    (WARNING! Extreme brutality and snuff. All characters over 18. If you know this to be offensive to you, don't read! Otherwise, enjoy the story.) THE AWAKENING I’m Brad, a lanky, tall-for-my-age white guy starting at a new high school comprised of students eighteen and older. I was a bit nervous, of course, and it didn’t help that I was just really beginning to understand my sexual cravings for massive, cut, and vascular muscles coupled with dominance and power. I had found myself drawn to magazines, entertainment, and art depicting the tallest and most massive, and muscle-bulging, thickly veined men. My cock always responded by lurching in a feeble attempt to feel the size and hardness of the hyper-masculine monsters to which I was drawn. I lusted not only to be in the presence of such manly beasts, but to see them use their power in the most gruesome of ways.be such a fearsome creature. I went to my assigned home-room and quickly found my seat amongst the other kids. My home-room teacher, a hulking, muscular black man, sat at his desk as the students found their seats. Of course, my eyes were glued to the dark-skinned, mid-twenties-year-old teacher as he took roll and droned on. His handsome face, thick, muscular neck, and bulging pectorals and biceps stretched his clothing and left nothing to the imagination. His form and authority excited both of my heads’ rapt attention as butterflies fluttered in my gut and superheated blood began to flood my loins. My dick throbbed larger and harder with each beat of my pounding heart. The bell rang and I filed out of the room with the other kids, backpack hiding my raging hard-on, to head to my first class. Passing by a room, I glanced in and saw an absolutely massive young Asian boy, Korean I thought, and possessing stunningly handsome features from head to exposed toes. He stood at least seven feet tall and powerful muscles rippled over his entire superlative body! He was surrounded by other kids, all much smaller, of course, as he spoke to one a little shorter than my five feet, ten and a half inch height, but much more muscular than I. I heard his deep voice, cocky and condescending as he spoke, and, apparently with good reason as both his physical and mental superiority was clear..I stepped into the room and stared at the unbelievably handsome, dark-skinned behemoth whose size and obvious strength reminded me of a powerfully muscled bull. My mouth went dry as my semi-hard cock, still concealed by my backpack, rocketed to full attention, once again.. The kingly Korean boy wore a t-shirt stretched tight over his magnificent torso, every muscle-fiber danced beneath his shirt and visibly rippled with unimaginable power. He wore shorts that couldn’t possibly obscure the huge sex-muscle that arched out and down at the crotch, straining the zipper holding his clearly outlined mass of flaccid manhood and large, churning testicles back. A girl that had shuffled in behind me moaned longingly, “Amazing, isn’t he? That’s Kang-dae. It’s inconceivable that he’s just turned eighteen, isn’t it?.” I nodded my head in agreement of her perception. Then I heard the kid Kang-dae was talking to, whose name I later learned was Wesley, raise his voice and state emphatically to Kang-dae, “FINE! Let’s do it now, you fucking FREAK.” Kang-dae’s dark eyes twinkled as a wide, toothy grin spread across his stunning face. “You sure, you puny little runt? You think you can beat THIS in an arm-wrestling match?” his rumbling, deep voice boomed as he raised his massive arms and flexed. The bottom of his t-shirt rose up majestically to reveal the thickly corrugated rows of abdominal muscles rippling beneath his venous skin. His enormous biceps and triceps snapped to attention and pumped larger and harder than any muscles I had ever seen . . . even on pictures of the roided bodybuilders my cock frequently drooled over in magazines and on the bodybuilding shows I watched on TV.! The magnitude of his bulk that rippled and writhed as he twisted his thick, bowling-pin like forearms back and forth was mind-boggling. He clearly admired his own muscular beauty and expected others to do the same. His shirt sleeves slowly tore away from his brawn’s assault on the flimsy fabric straining to cover his biceps and triceps as they popped into solid, thick diminsionality, exposing more dark, hard, and venous flesh. The meaning of K-POP changed in my lustful brain in an instant. Kang-dae walked over to a table and knelt down, thumping an elbow down on the table top as Wesley did the same on the other side of the table. As they knelt, I couldn’t help but notice Kang-dae’s massive feet as his heals raised up from his huge flip-flops he wore to contain his pervasive stompers. Wesley’s muscular arm looked like a twig eclipsed by the undulating brawn of Kang-dae’s muscle-hulking arm. I gasped as Wesley’s hand was engulfed in Kang-dae’s monstrous palm. “Are you SURE you want to arm-wrestle me, you pathetic little wuss? You look like a stick man compared to me. HA!” Kang-dae taunted as windows overlooking the courtyard rattled. “You know I could effortlessly snap you in two like a worthless little dry twig, right?” he continued, his large, pearly-white teeth exposed in a sardonic grin. Wesley now looked less cocky and more nervous as the muscles in his own arm bunched and hardened. It was now obvious to him that there was no comparison between he and KD (which I quickly decided that was how I would refer to Kang-dae, if he permitted). Wesley’s arm truly was puny compared to Kang-dae’s overpowering musculature. Wesley’s lips became tight as he strained, the veins on his neck and arms throbbing larger. Kang-dae looked down into the rattled boy’s eyes, “When do you want to start, my new little BITCH.” Kang-dae grinned as he licked his full lips. Wesley’s eyes grew wide as he felt KD begin to exert pressure. “Never mind, Kang-dae! I concede. I have no doubt you could fuck me up . . .BAD! I’m sorry I gave you shit, man.” he blurted as he tried to pull his hand away. Kang’s thigh-thick arm suddenly exploded with muscle as a loud CRRRAACK echoed through the room. “No take-backs, pussy.” KD rumbled intently as his fist slammed the smaller boy’s hand into the table as he closed his eyes, licked his full lips, and grinned evily. Wesley’s mouth dropped in a silent scream as his forearm simply snapped in two under Kang-dae’s inhuman power, his bone tearing through his flesh. Blood splattered the colossal Asian as he grinned and moaned in pleasure, licking some of Wesely’s blood away that had splattered onto his lips. His other huge hand lowered and rubbed his expanding, long, thick cock through his tight shorts. My own hard, throbbing cock bucked repeatedly as cum erupted into my shorts in dizzying bursts, soaking through the fabric and dripping down my leg as I dropped the books that had concealed my lustful reaction to such disdainful, remorseless use of unfettered superiority.. “God DAMN!” buzzed through the room as the kids witnessing the event scattered and bolted towards the door. Wesley seemed to lose consciousness as Kang-dae’s dark-maned head slowly turned and his coal-black eyes bored into my soul. His rumbling voice ordered, “Go get the nurse, boy . . .“ The giant Korean boy’s eyes lowered to my soaked and tented crotch with jizz dripping down my leg and he smirked knowingly, “. . . you puny little faggot. If you liked watching me fuck that little wimp over? You’ll REALLY like what I have to fuck you with, pussy-boy.” he taunted knowingly as his huge hand only partially encircled his enormous shaft through his shorts and squeezed seductively. “Meet me under the bleachers by the football field after school.” he ordered. “Now, MOVE IT!” I felt my face flush as “Holy SHIT! You’re a fucking GOD, KD!” gushed from my lips. He grinned knowingly at me as I absentmindedly grabbed my re-erecting dick. “Whatever you say, Sir.” I responded lustfully as I picked up my books and turned to go get the nurse. I looked over my shoulder as Kang-dae smiled broadly and dipped a long, thick finger into Wesley’s blood pooling on the table. He lifted it to his lips, and licked with his awe-inspiring tongue. Another shot of jizz rocketed from my worshipful dick as I ran into the door frame, quickly composed myself, and exited the room. I didn’t know what happened after I got the nurse and went to my first class (after ducking into a restroom to clean up my cum-soaked shorts). All morning, visions of the impossibly muscled Asian Adonis accosted my brain. My mind’s eye invariably witnessed the mighty Kang-dae growing into a titanic, brutal, and blood-thirsty muscle-bound giant relishing and getting off on using his godly size and power to decimate all those smaller and weaker . . . EVERYONE! After lunch, I headed to gym class. I opened the gym doors and gasped in utter awe and disbelief. I glanced in to witness the muscular brawn of sheer, flawless masculinity lift the base of his shredded t-shirt before tearing it from his thick, rippling, and powerful muscle-bod. Kang-dae now stood shirtless by the basketball court bleachers, his thick, powerful muscles bulging and rippling with primal, vein-encased superiority. His massive palms encircled the thick necks of two of the more muscular boys standing around him in awe. He began effortlessly curling them alternately with his powerful arms, biceps bulging with each rep as the boys uselessly struggled and flailed about in the Asian muscle-beast’s unyielding grasp. After finishing with that apparently light arm workout, he tossed his two living dumbbells aside as if they weighed nothing at all. He then dropped down to the floor. I gasped at the thickness of his back and triceps as he began to easily knock out push ups, his barrel-like chest rippling with muscle. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him . . . absolutely lusting to see this young beast unleash his carnal savagery upon more inferior human creatures. The coach, looking down at a pad he carried, entered the court from his office in the locker room connected to the basketball court/gym and barked, “Time to change into your gym clothes, boys.” He glanced up and saw Kang-dae’s herculean body being raised and lowered by thigh-thick, bulging arms. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the whale-hung mass of superior masculinity continuing to knock out push-up reps, the boy’s prodigious manhood mashing into the floor every time the herculean lad lowered his magnificent body.. Kang-dae looked me in the eyes, stood, and lifted his inhumanly thick, muscled arms. He grinned, lowered his arms, and ripped his shorts off, leaving him standing bare in his swole beauty and godly superiority. This Korean god’s cock was a thing of utterly destructive size, hardness, and vein-pulsing beauty . . . even soft! KD’s mostly flaccid penis was larger than my arm and pulsing pre-cum prodigiously. It was his most mesmerizing muscle exuding unquenchable virility, unstoppable power, and undeniable dominance. It personified the deadly disdain verbalized as he turned to the coach and roared, “FUCK YOU, you pathetic little excuse for a man!!! I do as I please, do you understand me, little man?” The group of students were rooted to the spot. They were unable to take their eyes off of the powerful teen demeaning the brash coach. I couldn’t help but envision this hyper-masculine, swole, and behemothic teen being more . . . more massive, more powerful, more sadistically perverse. As I watched in enthusiastically aroused awe and lustful craving, the impossible dream began to become reality before our eyes!. Kang-dae’s already mind-boggling muscular bulk began to bloat and balloon, ripple and enlarge. He threw his head back, his trapezius muscles bulged and rose from his back and shoulders framing his thick muscle-neck, large Adam’s-apple bobbing as he swallowed and moaned, “Oh, FUCK! I feel AWESOME!” The colossal boy began to inch upward, his huge feet began to lengthen, sliding across the floor as he expanded. His already inhumanly sized cock throbbed larger until it was six feet or more of thick, muscular flesh oozing of pure, manly sexuality. I fell to my knees as if they had been kicked out from under me. I was drooling with worshipful desire as the totally nude, titanic muscle-teen stepped towards the speechless coach, his engorging, man-sized cock slapping from one massive, muscular thigh to the other as his voluminous nuts churned, perpetually aching for release. His monstrous arms and obscenely protruding chest muscles rippled and ballooned with absolute dominion. Without a second thought, the coach stripped out of his clothing as if by instinct (as did the small group of students mesmerized by Kang-dae’s scaling larger and larger until he towered over us all at a dizzying twenty-five feet tall. His head brushed against the steel rafters of the gym area of the basketball court.. Kang-dae reached down and wrapped his enormous fingers around the stunned coach’s waist, and lifted him effortlessly to his stunning face. The coach, and all of us, breathed in the testosterone-laden musk of Kang-dae’s unstoppable manly strength as the boy’s voice rumbled, “I can actually taste your admiration, fear, and envy, you puny little mortals” Glaring at the trembling coach in his fist, he continued, “You do what I say, without question nor hesitation, pencil dick. You like that, don’t you boi? Someone with TRUE power telling you what to do. Yeah, bitch . . . it’s clear you want to please a REAL man and submit to my unrivaled superiority, you expendable little bug.” Without thinking, Coach stretched his arms wide, reaching out, and placed his hands on Kang’s immense mounds of rippling pectoral muscle, straining to reach far enough to cup the dark, sizeable tits. They would easily have filled each palm to overflowing. “Yes, SIR!” he assented worshipfully, his lust to feel the power of this young colossus overwhelming his ability to resist his base desires. The awe-struck man began to breathe in short, ragged gasps. Kang-dae grinned and slowly flexed his immense pecs, Coach felt the expanse of hot, hard pectorals of the Korean titan expand and harden like boulders. “Holy fucking CHRIST!” the coach blurted as he buried his face in the cavernous cleavage between those rolling, godly pecs, kissing the dark, smooth flesh of his new master. Kang-dae leaned down to coach’s ear, his thick, sensuous lips teasing it as he whispered commandingly, “Cum for your muscle-god, my puny little faggot-bitch.” Coach’s dick obeyed immediately, bypassing his brain completely. A muffled, “Oh, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” left his lips as the now enslaved little man’s dick obeyed instantly, coating Kang-dae’s fingers with volleys of jizz. Coach still lapped at Kang-dae’s smooth, dark flesh as the beastly teen lightly flexed his pectorals, trapping coach’s head as in a vise. As the titan relaxed his bone-crushing flex, Coach looked up into the muscle-beast’s dark, Asian eyes. “I know what you want, you pathetic little muscle-slut.” the giant boy purred knowingly. The coach shook his head as if coming out of a trance and began to struggle uselessly in Kang-dae’s powerful grasp. “KANG-DAE!” the heavily muscled twenty-something year old coach barked, “W-W-W-Who are . . . W-W-WHAT the fuck ARE YOU?“ Kang-dae grinned, his massive, snow-white teeth glistening behind his full lips as he thundered, “A FUCKING GOD TO BE FEARED AND SERVED, YOU PATHETIC LITTLE WASTE OF FLESH!” The colossal Korean’s eyes narrowed with annoyance. His face darkened and his muscles erupted in glorious size and power. My heart began racing as his mighty fist began to constrict around the coach’s little body. Kang raised his free arm and flexed while turning and licking the thick, pulsing veins snaking over his massive biceps. He then pursed his full lips, turned his head on a thick, corded neck, traps again rising like mountains on either side, and loudly kissed that hardened mound of powerful muscle, fibers visibly inundating beneath his smooth, dark skin. He flexed his sequoian cock, hose-thick veins flooding with size-building volume, pulsing larger, thicker, longer. More ore pre-cum bubbled forth and roped to the gym floor. Two of the boys from the group that were openly out of the closet bolted to in-between Kang-dae’s massive feet and torso-thick, diamond-shaped calves and fell on their hands and knees. They leaned down and began lapping at the salty-sweet, godly nectar Kang-dae’s mighty fuck spire pulsed forth. “Do you REALLY want to piss THIS off, you fucking insect?” he seethed ominously to the now flailing little coach. He shook the little man who flapped about in his fist like a powerless little rag-doll. The stunned coach choked out, “KANG-DAE! W-w-w-what the HELL are you d-d-doing? Stop. PLEASE!” even as his eyes bulged out of their sockets beholding such a massive, powerful, teen titan in complete and total control and sexually stimulated by his supreme power over the inferior mortals around him. Kang-dae felt the throbbing re-expansion of the coach’s little dick in his fist. He lowered his mighty arm, partially encircling the girth of his own cock with his massive free fist. He looked the coach in the eyes and rumbled, “You weak, pitiful little BITCH! You WANT to please me, don’t you, you little man-cunt?” he rumbled as he began to slowly stroke his throbbing mass of man-meat. “Who do you think the REAL ALPHA is here, you inconsequential little worm? EVERYTHING about you is weak and puny compared to THIS!” he thundered as he flexed his swole body, detonating with thick, mind-blowing and brutal power. He released his cock and wagged the enormous appendage back and forth, slinging pre-cum onto the remaining group of students. All of the students had already stripped bare and fallen to their knees in complete submission to their godly classmate.. Their dicks were rigid in worshipful recognition of their utter inferiority to such brutal and sensual masculinity clearly evidenced in the titanic body, mind, and soul of the beastly GOD towering over them. Their emasculation was complete and total from just being in his godly and terrifying presence. They scooped up handfuls of the giant’s pre-cum that had just splattered upon them and began to use the hot liquid as the most effective cock-lube to ever exist. They began to moan, “Oh, GOD! You ARE a GOD. There is NONE as powerful as you are, Kang-dae!” Coach turned bright red and began drooling and choking as pressure continued to slowly build in Kang-dae's mighty fist. “How long have you wanted to witness TRUE POWER, you worthless little mite. HA! HA! HA!” Kang-dae bellowed as he lowered the sputtering little coach to his thick and twitching, man-sized cock. “Even my COCK is larger and more powerful than you are, you puny little creature. You DARED to attempt to exert authority over ME? You are INFERIOR to me in every fucking way, you damned little pest. FUCK YOU!” Coach looked confused and trapped, yet his dick responded to the size, power, and superior mental domination of the creature that was toying with him. His throbbing dick exploded once again in a rapturous orgasm within Kang-dae’s crushing fist. Kang-dae’s face darkened, once again, “You DARE to use me for your own pleasure, dick weed? You exist for MINE!” he growled. I heard my voice blurt out, “Oh, FUCK, KD! You are SO fucking HOT! Don’t hold anything back! Show us what you can do. Coach is nothing but a fuckiing bug to you! FUCK him! You are a GOD! Show us what a true MUSCLE-GOD does to ANYONE he chooses. PLEASE!” I heard my voice pleading lustfully. “I live to serve YOU, Almighty Kang-dae!” The other boys looked at me, first in horror, but then in lustful agreement. Now out of my own clothing, as well, my rigid, rock-hard dick saluted such manly, muscular vorocity and power. I crawled to one of Kang-dae’s expansive feet and began to kiss him, lapping at the hot, salty-sweet pre-cum dripping from his towering cock throbbing hard above me. “Oh, YEAH, I remember you, puny little faggot! You were POWERLESS and shot your load looking at me snap Wesley’s arm like a brittle little twig earlier. I KNEW you were mine as soon as I saw you blow your load to supreme superiority and unconstrained, pitiless power. LOOK AT ME NOW, CUM DUMP! Somehow, I believe you have helped me reach this landmark, you sick little bitch. And this is just the beginning! You really want to see what I can do, don’t you, pathetic little muscle-slut?” he derided me as he placed the coaches tiny little, muscled ass over his impossibly large and pre-cum flowing mushroom cock-head. “Oh, GOD, YES! PLEASE! Be the brutally cruel and savage exterminator of inferior fucks that I know you are!” I sputtered as I reached down and began to stroke my hard, pulsing dick in his thick, slippery pre-cum. “I know that we are all just playthings for your amusement and sexual pleasure. SHOW US what you REALLY ARE, devastatingly savage Kang-Dae!” I begged lustfully. I could hear coach’s muffled screams, begging for release from the beast toying with him so effortlessly. Kang-dae looked me in the eyes and rumbled, “Oh, FUCK YEAH, you worshipful, horny little bug!” as he exerted a downward force on the coach. A cock-head with more girth that th coaches body touched the coaches ass and he began to scream maniacally. “Oh, GOD! NOOOO!” he wailed as KD grinned. The horny beasy began twisting Coach’s fighting body onto his magnificent cock. Coach’s voice became a shrill, piercing, almost female scream, as his ass was slowly stretched and split to make room for KD’s much larger and more powerful cock. His pelvis split and skin tore as the puny little body distorted and stretched to make room for the titan’s hungry sex organ, throbbing and pulsing majestically as the quickly becoming human condom assumed the shape of the monstrous cock brutally invading it. The muffled sounds of screaming began dying away as the slurpy snapping and smashing of bones an flesh echoed throughout the cavernous space of the court/gym. KD then simply thrust his cock through the man’s body, exploding through the neck as the corpse’s head lulled to the side, unseeing eyes still agape in terror. The almighty KD released his twitching cock fully embedded in the coach’s bloody, mashed and shattered remains. Its flesh was stretched around the vein-mapped cock so tight that the cock’s vein-mapped shaft’s pulsing veins were clearly visible. Legs splayed out at the colossal cock’s base as arms jiggled about further up the shaft. “Puny, fucking little fleshlight.” Kang-dae, growled as he encircled his horny fuck-trunk, squeezed hard, and again began to stroke. The worthless remains of the coach quickly began to tear away and flop to the floor in torn and liquified pieces mixed with the godly pre-cum of the ever-horny teen titan using it as a bloody cock lube. One of the larger students shuffled towards Kang-dae while wildly stroking his dick. “Oh, my GOD, Kang-dae! You ARE power, brutally sensual and uncaring. I fucking want to be like you! To FEEL such deadly strength and omnipotent supremacy!” “HA! HA! HA!” Kang-dae roared. “You STUPID little worm! FEEL my ruthless, sadistic power, you ignorant fucking BUG!” he thundered lustfully as he snatched the now cowaring little teen from the floor in his gore-dripping fist, encircling his head and torso. Muffled screams filled the air as he encircled the doomed little creature’s lower half in his other fist, growled demonically and flicked his wrists down in opposite directions. A loud CRACK echoed through the gymnasium as the puny boy’s body was effortlessly snapped in two like a fucking dry twig by this powerful Korean boy-god. His inhuman muscles ballooned in size and hardness as he pulled the doomed little man’s body apart effortlessly with a squishy RRIIIP as his back and shoulder muscles swelled and hardened majestically. Blood and gore splattered his rippling chest and dripped down over his cobblestone abdominals, throbbing cock, me, and my two pre-cum lapping, lustful classmates. Blood poured from the muscle-beast’s fists as his dancing muscles exerted the immense pressure necessary to compact the foolish boy’s remains to a squishy paste in his deadly fists. “FUCKING COCKROACH” he rumbled as he tossed the two halves of what remained of the snuffed teenager aside like so much garbage. The gelatinous remains slid across the gym floor, impacting the walls at opposite sides of the gym with a squishy SPLAT while leaving a telltale crimson trail of blood across the floor.. I was now drooling onto the Asian god’s large, manly feet and my mind couldn’t help but picture this perfect, young mountain of muscle becoming more of the callous, death-dealing giant than he had already proved, beyond ANY doubt, that he was. He knew he was unstoppable and, quite obviously, lusted to become more. Trembling, I looked up as he scooped some of the coach’s and ignorant teen’sremains into his massive hand, lifted the blood-dripping mitt to his full, thick lips and extended his tongue to lap at a gorey snack. I blurted out worshipfully, “Holy FUCK! You ARE the sadistic and bloodthirsty muscle-BEAST I have had dreams about since I was a kid! It is YOU! NOTHING can stop you, my GOD, from eradicating the inferior vermin that can only annoy such perfection as only you are. I pledge myself to you and praise you for what you are: A TERRIFYING GOD OF DEATH AND DESTRUCTION!!” I gushed worshipfully. The shocked boys were still on their knees in fear and awe, rigid dicks in hand, and drooling at the brutal, unrestrained power of the swole muscle giant standing over them. Kang-dae looked down over his protruding, gravity-defying mounds of pectoral beef at me, the two pre-cum sucking sluts, and the other dozen or so boys, dicks in hands, drooling up at the beastly teen titan. GOD grinned. “Does anyone here have a problem with me?” the impossibly brawny behemoth growled as he continued lapping blood and gore from his homicidally violent hands.. Everyone, including me, answered almost in unison, “No, Kang-dae!” One of the openly gay teens that had been feasting on Kang-dae’s pre-cum stood and addressed Kang-dae, “Almighty, Divine, and Fearsome Kang-dae, I long to feel your power, to touch your flesh, to bring you pleasure!” The other jumped up and begged, “Please, my GOD! I wish to please you, as well. Accept me as an offering to herald your omnipotent sovereignty over all.” Emboldened, one of the previously straight weightlifting students stood, stroking his raging erection. “I have wanted to please you ever since I first saw you, Kang-dae. But now, holy FUCK! I also want to feel your power. I always thought you were a god, but, oh FUCK! You ARE a GOD! PLEASE, GOD, allow me to be of use to you!!” the muscled teen begged, almost prayerfully. At that moment, the double gym doors swung open and the hunky, black homeroom teacher strode into the gym talking on his cell phone, eyes on the floor as he walked. He turned off his cell phone and looked up when he reached where the boys were gathered on their knees gawking upward, erect dicks in hand. “What the HELL is going on here, boys?” he stuttered before turning around and looking up in the same direction as the boys. He beheld the thick, swole teen smirking down at him, full, rounded muscles rippling beneath the smooth, vein-mapped brown skin. His mouth dropped open as his eyes roamed the expanse of hard, bulging muscle packed on this Asian teen giant. He saw smears of red on the masses of pectoral muscle and rippling abdominals. A muscle cock larger than his body throbbed and roped pre-cum to the floor. The teacher was barely knee high to this powerful looking teen beast, and the boy’s muscled calves were thicker than the teacher-s buff torso. “Kang-dae?” he whimpered as his hand reached out to feel the hard, smooth skin stretched over the behemoth’s massive split calf muscle. It was solid and hot to the touch, muscle fiber rippling beneath the teacher’s quaking palm. “Jesus Christ! How can you be . . . what’s happening . . . y-y-y-you . . . what have you done!” he stuttered out. “Join us, little man. Strip out of your clothes.” Kang-dae rumbled authoritatively. “Young man . . . ” the now worried teacher protested, but his mind went blank as he looked up at the large, inhumanly handsome young titan flexing over him, and the twitching, pulsing cock containing more muscle than flexed in his puny little body. “NOW!” Kang-dae thundered, shattering the basketball backboards with just the powerful vibration of his voice. The teacher quickly disrobed, muscles bulging beneath his obsidian skin. His nine inch, flaccid dick hung over large balls nestled between his muscular thighs. The teacher glanced around trying to figure a way to get himself and the other students away from this powerful, colossal muscle boy. It was then that he noticed the streaks of blood on the floor and apparent nearly liquified body parts splattered against the wall. He looked to the opposite wall and saw the same. “Shit! What have you done? This is IMPOSSIBLE! What in God’s name ARE you?” he bleated. Kang-dae’s eyes narrowed as he rumbled, “What have I done? Look at me!” he smirked as he flexed his inconceivable, awe-inspiring tonnage of thick, rounded musculature, his entire body exploding with rock-solid, rippling masses of muscle, hose-thick throbbing veins pulsing over every surface. His bloody, mansized fuck muscle twitched over beachball sized, churning nuts, spurting steaming pre-cum onto the naked teacher. “I do whatever the FUCK I want, you puny piece of fuck-meat!” he bellowed. He smirked as he continued, “And what in God’s name am I? HA! HA! HA! I am YOUR GOD, your pretentious little prick, and your God’s name is Kang-dae . . . now . . . KNEEL BEFORE ME!” he commanded thunderously, his tone turning angry. The teacher’s bladder released at such sights and sounds. As piss flowed from his cock, Kang-dae’s steaming hot pre-cum roped down onto the teacher’s thickly muscled, obsidian body. He raised an arm and wiped the salty liquid from his eyes, opening them to see the godly boy flexing over him. His knees buckled as if in direct obedience to the boy-god commanding him. His pissing cock rocketed to worshipful attention and he couldn’t help but slowly stroke his rock-hard, ample shaft using the giant’s slippery pre-cum even as he lapped at the liquid covering his face. “W-W-W-Where is C-C-Coach?” the teacher inquired quietly. Kang-dae lifted a hand towards his rippling, corrugated abs, each brick of muscle larger than several concrete blocks combined. He slid his fingers against his flesh, up and over the cliffs of his pecs, scooping blood onto his fingers. The titanic teen leaned forward and held his bloody fingers in front of the teacher’s face. “He was the first of many to succumb to my will and the fulfillment of my desires.” With that, Kang-dae lifted his fingers to his thick lips, extended his long, thick tongue, and lapped the blood from his fingers. As the teacher saw the teen beast lap the blood from his fingers, and grin a bloody grin, his cock exploded in ecstatic orgasm, his seed sailing up and onto Kang-dae’s lip. Kang-dae stood back up and eyed the still cumming little man. “I see you approve, fragile little insect.” He then licked the insects cum from his lip, looked into the eyes of the embarrassed and ashamed little teacher, “You taste good, little man. You may be of service to me in maintaining all this muscle mass, puny little cum dump! Now, you can observe how those who pledge themselves to me are rewarded. I think it will really please you. ”Now, who is first. Oh, yes,” he looked at the boy that first stood and asked to touch his flesh, to feel his power. He leaned forward, once again, extended his thick rippling arm, and encircled the trembling little teen in his fist. Everyone saw the boy immediately begin humping inside Kang-dae’s lightly clenched fist. Kang-dae brought the boy to his belly-button and pressed him against his flesh beneath his palm, face first. The grateful boy rubbed the hot muscle-flesh and began kissing it as he resumed humping. Kang-dae began sliding his little body up his abdominals slowly, over the deep ridges of his rippling ab muscles. The boy blurted out, “Oh, my GOD! So much MUSCLE! So HARD and POWERFUL! I BEG YOU to let me serve you, Kang-Dae, ALL the days of my life! I pray to bring you pleasure, MY GOD!” He looked up to see Kang-dae’s drop-dead-gorgeous face, but his view was obstructed by the incredibly thick overhang of his God’s powerful pectoral muscles. He felt his body continuing to be rubbed up against Kang-dae’s magnificent torso, his own head and torso sliding into the hot, sweaty cleavage of the titan so effortlessly using him. The rest of Kang-dae’s playthings were watching in awe of how easily the titanic teen was moving the little body up his muscled chest. They were dumbfounded when they saw Kang-dae lightly flex his pec’s, completely enveloping the small boy’s head and torso between the masses of muscle. Kang-dae then removed his hand, leaving the boy suspended in front of his grinding abs and held in place by his light pectoral flexion. The worshipful little toy’s legs began kicking frantically. Kang-dae lowered his hand and began to slowly stroke his massive shaft. More pre-cum bubbled forth, streaming down onto the other two who had begged to please him. The titan grinned an evil grin, leaned forward and grabbed the second teen that had begged to please him. The first teen continued kicking wildly, his head, torso, and arms pinned in the deep cleavage formed between Kang-dae’s masses of rippling, immovable pectoral muscle. The titanic muscle teen stopped stroking his throbbing fuck muscle and laid the second teen on top of the shaft. “Pleasure me, boy!” he thundered. The grateful little boy-toy wrapped his arms and legs as far around the hard, vein-mapped girth of Kang-dae’s cock and began rubbing and humping with all his might. He breathed out lustfully, “So massive, hard, and hot! Your God-cock would fuck the life out of anything it impaled. MY GOD! You are PERFECT in every way! How can I ever please you, Mighty Kang-dae?” he praised and begged all at the same time. Kang-dae grinned and licked his voluminous lips as he encircled his cock with one powerful fist, and the boy riding it. He began to slowly stroke. The remaining toys gawked at the sensual, sadistic display of Kand-dae’s total control over them and gasped in lustful awe as they saw him slowly begin to flex his chest muscles further. At the same time, they noticed his stroking arm begin to harden and balloon with flexing muscle. The teacher began pumping his cock and raspily blurted, “Holy FUCKING CHRIST! Oh, my GOD! YESSSS!” I looked over at the hunky black teacher, sweating profusely as he stroked. I walked over to him and inserted my hand into his cleavage. “Feel what he feels, you sick fuck!” I encouraged. Immediately, I felt my hand compressed by the power of this man’s pecs flexing around my flesh and bone. I looked up at Kang-dae. He had a brutal, lustful look on his face that was both terrifying and hot as fuck. His deep, guttural voice pronounced, “THIS is how you serve me, puny bugs . . . THIS is how you please me, weak, ignorant insects. BEHOLD!” With that, his planetary pectorals solidified into unyielding masses of granite hard muscle. The plaything pinned within the cleavage instantaneously compressed to mush in and his head and torso’s liquefied remains sprayed from the space that no longer existed between those rippling, deadly mountains of power. God alternately flexed those muscular masses, masticating and obliterating any remnants of the boy’s physical existence. Blood, brains, and gore dripped from the obliterated cleavage of the muscle-beast titan and ran down his abs.While still stroking the other little worshiper against his pulsing cock, he lifted his free hand and snatched the twitching legs still dangling from his hungry pectorals. He looked the teacher crushing my hand between his pectorals and grinned. “You like, little muscle-slut? THIS is power, bitch!” he smiled as his stroking arm exploded with size. There was a short yelp as the crunching and breaking of bones could be heard from the fist compressing the second teen to a liquified, gritty lube for Kang-dae’s stroking pleasure. Blood flowed from between those powerful fingers and pieces of the boy’s disintegrating body flopped down upon us. Kang-dae tossed the first boy’s legs aside in disgust. “You are ALL such puny and fragile little playthings!” The teacher starting cumming uncontrolably, his cock bucking wildly in dry orgasm until blood started spurting. He released his pec-hold on my hand, grabbed my skull and thrust his spasming cock down my throat, skull fucking me as he drooled, staring up at his GOD jacking his man-sized, blood covered cock. The third teen, the bodybuilder, was blubbering, “Oh, my GOD! Oh, my GOD! Oh, FUUUUUCCKKKK!!!” Kang-dae grinned down at him. “Are YOU ready to serve me, puny little pussy-boy. . . to PLEASE me?” he snarled. The boy looked terrified and turned to run, but the teacher POPPED his cock from my mouth, grabbed the fleeing teen and shoved him towards Kang Dae. “My offering to you, Kang Dae, my savage and merciless GOD!” Kang-dae grinned, reached down and snatched the bodybuilder teen from the floor and lifted him to his face. He stopped stroking his cock and lifted that hand, dripping with blood infused pre-cum, and set the teen in his palm. “Stand, boy.” Kang-dae ordered. The thickly muscled teen stood, trembling. “You look to be a sturdier toy than the first two, you puny little insect. Show me your biceps, like this.” The teen titan raised one arm and flexed, his biceps and triceps leaping to rock-hard mounds of inhuman muscle as large as a car.. Even though scared shitless, the boy’s ample dick rocketed to attention and saluted GOD. He moaned in lust to be able to be so brutal and barbaric, he yearned for such size, such power, and he moaned, “My GOD! I am yours. I live to please you!” as, standing in Kang-dae’s palm, he raised his arms and flexed as hard as he could. Kang-dae lifted the flexing little muscle-teen to his face and examined his muscular little body. He pursed his lips and blew, his hot, bloody breath wafting over the teen who immediately erupted in another orgasmic expulsion of semen. Kang-dae grinned, exposing his massive teeth before extending his tongue and licking the boy’s rigid cock and balls and, indeed, his entire body since it was so small in comparison to KD’s tongue. “Pathetic, you worthless little cunt. Feel what a REAL muscle feels like.” Kang-dae smirked as he moved his hand holding the boy over to his flexed biceps. “Climb on, puny little pussy boy.” The little bodybuilder gushed, “OH! Thank you, my GOD!” as he climbed onto the rippling, vein encased mound of muscle. “Oh, GOD! So MASSIVE, HOT, and HARD.” He mounted the titan’s colossal arm and began to grind, his little body sliding into the space between the biceps and the forearm. Kang-dae grinned and slowly brought his forearm up, trapping the lustful teen between his muscular forearm and rising biceps. The teen began to compress from the crotch upwards he screeched as his cock and balls were crushed flat and exploded. The pain was too great for screaming as his hips were pulverized. “THAT, puny maggot, is powerful muscle!” Kang-dae chuckled as, with his free hand, he lifted the boy with two fingers clenched onto his muscled little abs. He brought the crippled and crying teen to his lips as he grinned a devilish grin and licked. “You wanted to serve me? You will . . . as a protein rich snack, muscle-toy!” “NOOOOO!” shrieked the broken teen bodybuilder as Kang-dae inserted the boy’s head and shoulders into his mouth and exposed his massive teeth before biting down, cutting the cry’s short as he severed the muscled little teens upper body at just below his pecs. Blood spurted from between his teeth as he positioned that first bite between his molars, clenched his jaws an CRUNCHED on his first bite, chewing the muscles, skull, and bones to mush and swallowing hard, a large lump visibly descending down his throat. He lowered the remainder of the boy’s body to his throbbing sex trunk and crushed it against the hot, hard flesh and slowly stroked. “Mmmmm.” he moaned. “Before I leave here, I am going to test your devotion to me, little pleasure toys. I am stoked to be worshipped, to instill fear, and to rampage beyond these walls. “YESSS, MY GOD, ALMIGHTY AND ALL POWERFUL KANG-DAE!” I cried out lustfully. Kang-dae lowered his gaze to me and purred, “Good little bitch. You see me as more, don’t you you bloodlusting little power slut?” as he reached down and snatched the worshipful little teacher from beside me, lifting him to his now glaring face. “Now, what about YOU?” the burgeoning deified, lustful teen Asian muscle-beast growled ominously as he licked his bloody lips and licked the new playthings muscular, black little body. Then the bell rang to change classes.
  21. 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.
  22. wshpmus

    Killer Looks

    Here''s another older story of mine. Definitely violent so if that's not your thing or a turn off then don't bother. Since muscles are synonymous with strength I think some degree of violence is always or at least very often a given. We could break down the psychology of that, but fuck that, I don't actually care why it's a turn on for me... just is. Killer Looks “It’s cash up front. Leave the money here,” the huge former pro wrestler now turned hustler said, gesturing to the entry table. “Like I said in my text, I don’t usually do guys, but I make the occasional exception. Fee is double though.” “Yes, you were quite clear about that.” The silver haired, partially balding man answered back, pulling a thick envelope from the breast pocket of his suit and placing it on the marble tabletop. “$2800, for two hours. It’s all here. Feel free to count it.” “No, you look like the honest type,” the big guy said while still picking up the envelope and peering inside, flicking through the pile of hundred dollar bills. “You can look, and touch, blow me if you want, and maybe I’ll fuck you, but that’s it. Nothing else.” “How kind.” The faintest trace of sarcasm accompanied the old man’s reply. “So I take it you know who I am, or was… I guess I’m retired from the wrestling game now. But I do keep the body in shape. That’s what I was known for. And of course I’m sure that’s what you’re paying for?” “Among other things, yes.” “Like I said, only the things I say gramps. We clear on that.” “Oh absolutely.” “Fine.” The Buff guy turned from the apartments entryway and sauntered into his expansive and sunny Miami high rise living room. The end wall a panorama of glass and ocean view. He let his lats flare out as he walked into the room, knowing it’s what his client wanted, the display of his body his former wrestling trade mark. He bent both arms up into a back double biceps pose knowing the clock had started. His neon blue t shirt stretched tight across his big back and the sleeves straining against the bent up arms, each boulder of split peak as impressive as ever. “I see you’ve kept yourself in fighting shape.” The old man smiled, a lascivious grin spread across his face. “Damn right I do. This body made me a rich man, opened doors for me. I’m not about to neglect it.” He turned and smiled at his customer. “You wanna see it, don’t you pops?” “Indeed.” Buff guy smiled like the whore he was and shucked off the t-shirt and flung it to the ground as he tightened and rippled his bared upper torso. Still proud of his physique, and the 248 pounds of bulk he carried on his 6’ 2” frame. Not quite the perfect body of ten years ago, when he was in his prime, but still a magnificent specimen, hard, reasonably toned and massive. He started putting on a show, displaying his bare torso in all the standard bodybuilder poses. The bright sunlight washing across his tanned mass. “You wanna oil me up?” “No, thank you. I think we might just be breaking a sweat shortly and I can see your muscles glistening to perfection then.” Buff guy frowned a bit, wondering exactly what he was going to be asked to do, but he continued to run through his poses. He unzipped his tight jeans and started working them down over his enormous quads, shaking them out once free of the denim and offering the sight of them up to the old man like two prized additions to his perfection. “Oh my my, those are very impressive. I do so hate a man that ignores his leg development.” “Uh, yeah. I always worked them hard.” Buff guy stated, still flexing the big thighs. “When you gotta press some 300 pounder over your head you need big wheels. Lift with your legs man.” “Very true, very true. I couldn’t agree more,” the old man seemed to smirk again as he answered. “Maybe you wanna watch a little home workout?” Buff guy asked smiling enticingly, preferring showing off while he lifted to anything sexual with this old coot. “Why yes, that would be most enjoyable.” Buff guy nodded his head towards the connecting room and walked into a bedroom converted to home gym. A wall of mirrors reflected the equally sunny space and glistened off the chrome weights and black vinyl benches and pads. He pulled off his skimpy briefs and let his nicely sized dick swing free, adding to the show his customer paid for. “Oh very nice package indeed. I had hoped your steroid use hadn’t shrunk that away to nothing.” “Who said I’ve used steroids?” The silver haired man just gave him an ‘oh pleeze’ reality check look, and Buff guy nodded, not bothering to deny it. “Yeah so maybe roids have helped me do this…” he said scooping two ninety pounders off the rack and pumping out some alternating dumbbell curls, “but everyone seems to like the results. Don’t they?” He asked while looking down at his large veiny biceps swelling and bulging with each rep. “Certainly no one would argue that. Least of all me.” Buff guy watched himself and the visitor as he did a couple sets, flexing and rubbing his own arms provocatively on each short break. “I imagine those feel quite as impressive as they look.” Buff guy bent an arm into a right angle and swung it forward for the old man to feel, who did so immediately, his grip quite powerful on the hardened muscle. Buff guy noticed this and clearly looked surprised. “Mind if I join you?,” he asked unexpectedly, and Buff guy paused in surprise. “Huh?” “Can’t let you have all the fun, now can I?” the silver daddy stated as he hands went up to his collar and started loosening the tie around his neck, pulling it off quickly and unbuttoning his shirtfront. He stared at Buff guy’s face as his shirt began to open up and his flawlessly rounded smooth shaven chest and deeply chiseled 10 pack were revealed. He shucked off the shirt and suit jacket together and unveiled an upper body of such indescribable physical perfection that Buff guy’s mouth dropped open in complete and utter awe. “Fuck yeah,” the old man moaned with pleasure at the sight of his own uncovered beauty. “I try to keep the old bones in shape,” he began stroking his hands across his own large, striated chest and down his cobbled abs, so deeply etched the shadows between each individual muscle created a dark outline highlighting the incredible definition. “I like to keep my body fat around 4%, but sometimes I think I loose track of it and just don’t have any to speak of. Shredded and ripped up like a twenty year old seems to suit me, don’t you think Pudgy?” Buff guy looked up at that, tearing his eyes off the youthful body of perfection and appraising his expression. “You calling me fat?” “No never,” the silver daddy continued while unzipping his pants and kicking them away, shucking off the shoes and underwear immediately after. “I just think next to me you do have a bit of surplus fatty tissue.” As if to emphasize his point he turned and flexed his bared rounded ass, the striations rippling across it defied belief. “Excuse me Chunk-o,” he chuckled a bit as he brushed past Buff guy and reached for the heaviest dumbbells on the rack. The 150’s weren’t often used for anything but presses and the old guy smiled at his own reflection as he started curling them like they weighed nothing. “How the fuck can a guy your age have a body like that!” Buff guy stood with hands on his hips, staring into the mirror at the naked man next to him swinging up the massive weight effortlessly. His eyes drifted down to the thick twelve inch pole between his legs, an appendage clearly twice as big as his own. “Yeah, that’s pretty fucking impressive too, isn’t it. No ones ever gonna call you a pencil dick, but next to me… well.” “I just can’t believe…” Buff guy stammered, trying to figure out what he was trying to say. “I mean holy fuck, who’d have thought you had a body like that under the suit. An old guy like you. It’s fucking…” “Unbelievable. Yes, I know. I get that all the time. Hardly a new reaction, trust me.” A light sheen of sweat was starting to glisten all over the hills and valleys of muscle covering every inch of the old man’s exposed body. “I’m rather proud of the fact I keep myself in semi decent shape.” A grin crossed his face. “Oh who am I kidding, false modesty doesn’t suit me at all. I’m quite proud of this shell I occupy. The body is a temple, I know you agree with that. Some of us have humble churches, others cathedrals.” He was finished with the weights and dropped them unceremoniously to the floor then stared at himself, admiring his own arms as they began to show their pump. “Christ, I got neighbors, you can set those down you know.” “These floors are poured concrete, they can’t hear a thing.” The old man lunged suddenly at Buff guy and pulled him into a head lock. He tightened his grip like a vice and squeezed the thick column of neck like it was a rag doll, twisting and pulling the big 250 pounder off balance. Taking him off his feet, the old man held him in the headlock for a few long moments, savoring the feel of complete dominance he felt over the former pro wrestler, then he released him with a chuckle and slap on the back. “I don’ think that was on your list of things we couldn’t do together?” the old guy chuckled looking at the red marks around Buff guys neck. “What the fuck pops!” Buff guy was pissed. “You don’t wanna play at wrestling with me! I will fucking snap you like a twig.” “Oh that would be fun, wouldn’t it. Would you like to try?” “Listen, you didn’t pay me for a wrestling match.” “Oh, pity. I thought you might actually be good at it. I have such trouble finding decent matches.” Without pausing he reached out quickly and open handedly smacked Buff guy across the face. Anger flared up, but he tried to contain it. “We ain’t playin’ this…” whack. Another slap backhanded him. “Oh the fuck we ain’t.” Buff guy yelled and sprang at the old man, who completely ready for the charge gripped him in a bear hug and swung his body forward past him and threw him into the mirrored wall. The glass shattered dramatically and the big wrestler slid down the wall onto the weight rack. He pulled himself back up, shucking off glass shards and looked at the old guy in disbelief. “I’m gonna fucking kill you, you old pussy.” “That’s the spirit,” he heard answered back before a pair of iron like fingers grabbed him and pulled him up and away from the wall, into the air and flying across the room. The big former wrestler skidded across the last ten feet of the room. “Oh, that’s going to be a hell of a rug burn, isn’t it Porky?” Buff guy got up red faced and seething and charged back across the room, slamming into the silver haired geezer and clotheslining him to the floor. He hammered down on the hard prone body with his forearms, smashing them down repeatedly against his chest trying to force the air out of his lungs. He escalated the punishment quickly and kneed the ribcage a couple times, knowing what that did to incapacitate an opponent. For good measure he put a choke hold on the old man and took his anger out on the neck cradled in his big arms, as he choked the windpipe, waiting for the guy to pass out. When it seemed he finally had and the old man’s eyes were closed, Buff guy finally let go, spit on the prone man’s chest and then sat back on his ass staring at the incredible chiseled physique lying still before him and wondering how this appointment had turned into this bizarre encounter. He was startled when the old guy quietly said in a very normal voice, “Well that was fun.” He sat up and turned to the whore, wiping the spit off his thick pecs. “You really do hit like a girl.” He stood up and put his hands on his hips, facing the wrestler who rose up off the floor. “Why don’t you give me your best shot. Free target, give it your all pussyboy.” He pointed to his own chin, and his washboard stomach. “Your choice.” Buff guy hesitated a second, but then said, ‘fuck it’ and drew back his fist and connected with a vicious right cross to the old guy’s face. His head whipped around but then snapped right back and smiled at him. “Oh princess, that was sweet. Try a little harder.” Buff guy rapid fired punches into the granite stomach like he was working a body bag and went unblocked for a good minute and a half before he started tiring out, his fists aching from the hardened muscle he was pounding. “You’ll probably have to ice those later,” silver daddy chuckled, “if you can.” He said as an after thought, then added. “My turn!” His first punch completely doubled over the big wrestler who dropped to his knees, and then vomited up his lunch. “This isn’t going to be much of a challenge at all, now is it? How very disappointing.” The muscle daddy turned to face the mirror as he spoke. “I always think I’ve found someone who’s going to surprise me, to give me a bit of a run for my money… and for $2800 you think you’d be a better run. I suppose pro wrestling really is just all for show now isn’t it. I should have known that.” He started stroking his own beautiful physique lovingly as he spoke, “But you see, I’m the real thing. I’ve worked rather hard to achieve all of this. Thousands of inverted sit ups each and every day, weight training for power and beauty, eating properly of course, isometric training, kickboxing, tae kwan doe, flexibility work, endurance, everything necessary to achieve physical perfection. And just look at me my dear boy, you have to admit, I am quite perfect. Granted, the passing of time has taken it’s toll on my face, there’s nothing much I can do about that, but my body, oh that’s another story for sure. I easily have the physical stamina of a young olympian, and the skills beyond even that. I’m afraid though our little arrangement here is going to have to be adjusted. I don’t care to be fucked, thank you all the same, but I do fully intend to enjoy that fat ass of yours. And please, do try to put up a bit of a struggle, it makes it so much more fun for me.” The silver muscle daddy walked over to the weight bench, loaded with the Buff guy’s last heavy benching weight, 345 pounds. He stood behind the bar and scooped it off the rack and pressed it up to his chest, with one easy huff of air he hoisted it over his head and did a few standing military presses, his shoulders exploding with the massive pump he was giving them, then he brought the weight down and like before curled it slowly, watching the girth of his shredded arms easily gliding the ridiculous weight up and down as the veins bulged from under his taut skin. The daddy’s big dick grew hard while he pumped the weight, and the Buff guy started to panic, knowing what was shortly in store for him. “It’ won’t hurt.” Muscle daddy slammed the weight onto the rack and did a most muscular pose as he growled, “Much.” Buff guy panicked, seeing the old dude pumped up and playing with weights that he knew no normal man could handle with such apparent ease. It must be some freakish adrenaline rush, turning the old geez into a fucking superman. Buff guy turned and ran for the other room, hoping to get out of the apartment before this man could act on his last words. He realized all too quickly that pops was as fast as he claimed, and he’d sprung at him as he made his dash and felt the vice like grip of the man’s two hands grab him by the traps and squeeze. The crushing grip stopped Buff guy dead and slowly he dropped to his knees from the incredible seering pain. “Isn’t there some stupid wrestling name for this? Cobra clutch, or death grip or something equally asinine.” Buff guy’s wince of pain soon turned to screams as he fought and clawed against the two arms gripping him from behind. “Oh this is fun, you’re like a little girl.” The grip suddenly let go and Buff guy felt a bare foot push down on the small of his back, causing him to face dive onto the floor. Before he’d even caught his breath he felt himself being picked up, scooped from the ground like he weighed nothing and then suddenly tossed across the long living room, his body sailing twenty five feet and landing hard. “Too bad your floors don’t have all that bounce of the ring. Cause I’m sure that had to hurt a bit.” The silver daddy sauntered across the room slowly, passing another mirror in the living room and smiling at his own reflection, flexing his arms a bit and bouncing his chest. “God damn just look at me. I really am the ideal specimen of a man, don’t you think so darling?” He knelt down beside the big guy on the floor and tenderly stroked a hand across the wide back. Looking down at the pool of blood under the Buff guy’s face, draining from the clearly broken nose that had crushed on impact. “Oh my precious boy, that had to have hurt. And you’re pretty face, such a shame. But I always think a broken nose makes a man look so much more masculine. Don’t you agree.” “You insane piece of shit, I’m going to have you thrown in jail.” “Oh now that’s a thought isn’t it, jail can be such a lot of fun. Think of all the men there for me to dominate. I love making big guy’s my bitch… but then, I think you’ve already figured that out now, haven’t you?” “You touch me and I’ll…” “You are funny sunshine, you’ll do what exactly?” Buff guy started to pull himself up from the floor, but had only gotten into a push up like position, his arms lifting his torso from the floor, when the old guy snatched the wrist nearest him and pulled hard and fast, flipping the big guy over onto his back while he once again applied incredible pressure to the joint he held so firmly. With his other hand he reached out and took the index finger of the hand he held immobile and then smiled directly into the sweating man’s frightened face as the realization of what he was about to do hit him. “I don’t like threats.” And he broke the finger like a pretzel stick. Buff guy screamed in agony. “Now see what you made me do. All I wanted was to play nice.” The old man chuckled, “Well that’s not entirely true, I admit. After all you are a whore. And whore’s are paid to be fucked, now aren’t they.” He reached down and started stroking his big cock, taking it from half hard to fully ready in a few moments. “I believe this was your lube of choice?” he asked as he spit onto his dick and mounted the wrestler in a quick and brutal thrust. “Well we knew that was going to be tight, didn’t we?” The Buff guy felt another round of unbelievable pain as the thick cock pounded his virgin ass. To his astonishment he felt himself being picked up from the ground, the old man had taken him in his arms and lifted his 248 pounds into the air while the big dick remained driven deep into his ass. “Oh fuck yes,” the old man groaned as he effortlessly pumped the huge man up and down on his swollen cock, holding him like some 90 pound twink and giving him a ride that defied belief. “Time to blow my load in your hole you hot little fuck toy. Daddy’s coming.” Even through the pain the buff guy felt the hot stream of jizz fill his ass, then a second, and third wave of cum followed the first. “Fucking christ almighty, now that felt good.” The old man pulled his half hard cock out and unceremoniously let the big guy drop flat on his back to the ground. “Shit, that was what I needed. Fuck yes.” He looked down at the big muscleman on the floor writhing in pain and gave him a “tsk, tsk” sound. “You didn’t enjoy that? What a shame. But then, I’m not done yet. Maybe you need to see how a real man fuck’s a whore.” He reached down to his own dick and stroked himself a few times, and the Buff guy’s eyes widened in total fear and amazement as he saw the old man getting hard again instantly. “How the fuck…” he muttered. “I know, I do have rather remarkable stamina.” He reached down and put his hands on both sides of the wrestlers face, then pulled him up from his back onto his knees, and said very calmly, “Your going to suck me off now like a good little whore, and if your teeth even so much as nick my beautiful big cock I’m going to break your neck, and as I recall, you already had that happen to you, now didn’t you? That couldn’t have been too pleasant. All that pain, the recovery time, never feeling quite the same. I think you know just how easily I could crack those vertebrae, so let’s be very careful and suck me off like a good little boy. We clear?” Buff guy just nodded and took the dick in his mouth, instantly choking as the dominant stud pulled him deeply onto his shaft. He didn’t have to suffer long, as within a minute or two he felt the hot pulse of cum hitting the back of his throat and making him gag. The old man pulled off and just smiled, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it.” The big guy rolled onto his back and groaned, in so much pain, his nose pounding, his finger throbbing, his ass and jaw aching… “Please just go” he thought to himself but didn’t dare say out loud. “You do like these big mirrors everywhere, don’t you? You must miss the limelight, the adoring fans, the people fawning over your body.” the old guy was studying himself and his own beautiful physique as he spoke. Flexing again for just himself, he admired and preened over his perfect body. And then, defying all belief, his cock started growing hard again. “I know, just look at that. I am insatiable.” He stroked his own big cock but completely focused on just his reflection, he ignored the big man on the floor completely as he pleasured himself and quickly came to near climax again. He turned at the last moment so that his spray of man seed shot across the five feet and splattered over the buff guy. He screamed as he came, “I am a true muscle god!”
  23. Bigrowinggod

    A stronger strain : a HIMs story

    Found this universe hot so I thought I would try to write a story in it chapter 1 Tyrone pov It has taken a few months but I finally got a sample of a more powerful strain of the virus out of the lab. I can’t believe I get to turn my lovable boyfriend into a god. I was so hard just thinking about it. I just keep thinking how he will react shocked scared happy just a few more turns before I get home. I still can’t believe the world Changed so much In just a few months. Randomly men and some women (I believe it is called H.E.R.S then ) grew into sexy virile giants and if my calculations are correct due to rays weaker immune system he will tower over them. I see him making dinner for us as I walk in. “Hey babe what are you making” I ask hugging him from behind “ I was craving some meat so I kinda made a bunch of meat dishes so we could have some left overs too” he kisses me before finishing what he was doing and I’m just smiling knowing there is no way there will be left overs as that hug just infected him. we start eating and i just slowly eat as I see him devouring more and more food his clothes growing tight but he’s to hungry to notice. “More” he roars as he clears the table so I bring out the advanced nutritional formula that I had stored away for this moment he downs one after another as he shoots past 15 feet still not done he keep eating and drinking more and more till he hits 18 feet and stops for now. “Babe what did you” do he says as I cum at the sight of him
  24. ZFerrari

    The Hanazin Warrior academy

    I just saw this story on the old forums, and I thought it was really good so I'm just reposting it here. Shouts out to Oliver904 the original author. Sean's body ached all night, so he didn't get a good night's sleep. He did manage a few hours, but his blaring alarm clock told him it was time to get up for another horrid day of school. And his alarm clock actually blared, as for some reason, it seemed a hundred times louder. Sean was 18 years old, and a senior in high school. He was never a morning person, but today was different--for most parts at least. He still was groggy when he went to brush his teeth, his brain still unaware of everything, even as he glared at a strangly different reflection staring back at him (he thought he was still half asleep), but today was his birthday. It wasn't until he went to change out of his bed clothes that he noticed he wasn't wearing any. He shook his head and blinked his eyes to rid his morning handicaps, and almost immediatly passed out. Sean couldn't believe his eyes, literally, as he turned to look in the mirror next to him they were a different color. His once dark brown eyes were now blue. But his eyes weren't what flustered him. His hair had changed--from strait black to curly blond. And still, most of all, his body had changed. There wasn't the dark, sporadic hair growth he had despised since puberty, instead a light, fine blond covering had replaced it. His skin was the smoothest he had ever seen it, and most spectacular of all, his body--well, it just wasn't his body. His once almost concave chest was now like the chests of the swimmers he saw in the Olympics. He pushed his arms down to see the straitions in the center deepen into ripped muscle. He ran a hand down the bumps of his now six-pack abdomen, stopping as his finger touched the lower parts. The muscle was extremely lean there, both sides a "y" shaped vein running across the dark, tanned, surface. He saw his hands then, their power seeming dangerous, perhaps deadly. They looked like hands for crushing. Sean opened and closed his palms, watching the veins flex from his forearms and biceps. He turned to the side to check his shoulders, three striated sections defying the skin, a single vein on both sides mapping their way to his bulging pecs. He flexed his triceps like he saw the bodybuilders do on T.V., watching as the muscle formed the perfect horseshoe shape. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK Sean turned towards the door of his bedroom. He realized his door wasn't locked. Whoever it was, they were going to freak when they saw him, and most likely not in the good way. "Just a second," Sean said. But the person didn't abide, and the door swung open, Sean standing dead center, naked. "Dad..." Sean said, not knowing what else to say as he glared at his father standing there with birthday cake in hand. "Happy Birthday," his dad said. He put the cake down on a nearby dresser, and grabbed Sean into a tight embrace. "Happy Birthday, son," he said again, lifting Sean from the floor as if his new body was not a factor. "Eighteen, Sean. Finally." He eyed Sean up and down. "Look at you! That's my boy!" Sean saw what he was glaring at. His cock had hardened from all the excitement, and now sat there throbbing up and down with each beat of his now pounding heartbeat. "Dad!" Sean said, turning around as quickly as he could. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Sean," his father said. "Dad," said Sean, "I'm naked--and is my penis the first thing you noticed." His father laughed, clapping his hands together. "Sorry, but it's been a while since my transformation, you know." "T-transformation?" Sean had always thought his father was huge, but he just thought he worked out a lot. And even now, the red A-shirt his father wore exposed the massive slabs of meat that were his pecs, his shorts revealing the vascular muscle of his cut, lean quads, and perfectly defined calves, the right one having a thick vein running down to his ankle. His father pointed to Sean's bed. Sean had been too preoccupied with his new muscles that he didn't even think about what had happened to his bed clothes. Sean walked up to his bed and lifted up the shredded remains of his Hanes t-shirt and small boxer briefs. "You mean, at night?" Sean asked. "I transformed...transformed into this?" His father smiled. "All people like you and me do on their 18th birthday." Sean didn't know what to say. "Eat your cake later," his father said, breaking the silence. "Why don't you come downstairs first. There's someone who wants to speak with you--oh, and don't forget to get dressed." He smiled. Sean's face flushed a bright red. He nodded, and his father left the room, closing the door behind him. *** It took Sean a good ten minutes to find something that would fit, and in the end, he succeeded with a black sleeveless shirt, that still felt as if it would shred if he flexed his pecs, and some gym shorts, the massive, cut, vein covered legs unable to hide into his normal jeans. Sean found that he actually had to tighten the drawstring of his shorts just to keep them on his now 28 inch waist. As he reached the last step, his eyes settled on a huge man standing in the living room with his father. He wore a black, sleeveless Karate-Gi, the muscles in his chest and arms easily visible beneath. Sean had to check if his jaw was hanging on the floor. "You must be Sean," the man said, walking up to him. He extended his hand. For a minute Sean was afraid to take it, thinking the man just might crush the very bones in his hand, but took the shake in good faith and manners. The man looked back at his father. "So the prank tradition continues." Sean's father chuckled. "Like you said, tradition." "Prank? This can't be a prank?" Sean said, his spirits falling a bit. "Oh, no no no--not the transformation bit, just the 'not giving you proper clothing for the night'. If you want my opinion, I was kind of glad my father didn't give me fitting clothing either," the man said with a laugh. "I'm Professor Michael Pearce, of the Hanazin Warrior Academy. I'm the head of the House of Dragahna." Sean noticed the patchwork on the left breast of his gi. There was a Huge, Muscular man (looking a lot like the one standing in front of him) surrounded by a transparent golden orb--like a force field, and that surrounded by a wreath of olive branches. I'm here as your guide." "Guide?" "Guide to help you settle into your new school." Sean didn't know if he should cheer, or sulk. He hated his present school, but the idea of going to a new one. Honestly, everything was happening to fast to comprehend. "First things first," Prof. Pearce said. "Take off your clothes." •
  25. bbmikenj

    Old Man Power. Finale added 5-13-23

    Fred had never worried much about getting older. Then one day, his daughter posted some pictures on Facebook from the party she had thrown for him on his 75th birthday. He looked stooped over and frail, with a fairly pronounced paunch. When did I turn into a old grandpa, he wondered to himself. He still had a good head of hair, now silvery-white, but the rest of him was sagging. His former 6’4” stature looked like it had lost a good 5 inches. He decided to do something about it. He didn’t want to join a gym looking like did, so he started doing push-ups at home everyday. At first it was a struggle just to get down on the floor then get back up again. But he stuck with it, and within a few weeks, he was doing ten push-ups, a couple of times a day. He liked how it made him feel, so he got an old chin-up bar out of the garage. His sons had used it decades ago when they played football. He attached it to a doorway in the house. At first he had to use a low stool to assist him in getting any pull-ups at all, but after time, he was able to do some on his own. He progressed faster than he thought he would, and soon, he would pump out ten reps every time he walked past the doorway. Then he would hang from the bar, stretching out his vertebrae. It wasn’t long before he noticed changes in his body. Things were tightening up, he could feel it. Even better, he could see it in the mirror. He’d never been a muscle guy but he’d stayed fit by running, but after his divorce years ago, he’d given that up. He used to take daily walks with his dog, but after the dog died, he stopped that too. He’d definitely let himself go. Now he was feeling a fire inside. He went out and bought an exercise bike, and started doing 45 minutes of cardio a day. His paunch shrank. His pant size went from a 38 to 34. While he rode the bike, he watched YouTube videos on fitness, exercises, and supplements. He ordered a set of parallel bars, and started doing bodyweight dips. They made his chest swell out and his nipples jut. He started doing squats every morning. First ten. Then 20. Almost every day, he added ten more, until he was up to 100. He did lunges around the house, and as his legs got stronger, he did them in the yard, which improved his balance and made his ass plump up. The waistband of his 34 pants grew looser, but the backside got tighter. His legs got veiny. And bigger. His forearms were getting veiny and bigger, too, but he wanted more. So he went to a fitness store and bought some grip training equipment. He trained his forearms for half hour a day, and as they grew bigger and veinier, he got into flexing them for twenty minutes after training them, bloating them so full, he could barely move his hands. He started eating spinach, so his forearms would grow like Popeye’s. Spinach salads. Spinach smoothies. Spinach omelets. It sure seemed to work. His forearms grew, but so did his upper arms. And his shoulders. And his back. It motivated him to never skip a day or cut a workout short. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing in the mirror. Muscles. Sinewy muscles. Ropey and hard. His abs were starting to show. One morning, he flexed his arms, and almost jumped back in surprise. He knew what he had. He had Peaks. He had read the name for them online. Biceps peaks. Not huge, not yet anyway, but they were defined, and had a split running across the top, like a mountain ridge. His forearm swell was equally impressive. Gnarly and veiny. Now, even driving his car, his arms felt strong, not frail and shaky like they were before. When he pressed his palms into the steering wheel, his chest puffed out, stretching his shirt tight. He could feel his strength surge. His spine had straightened out, bringing back some of his height. When he walked thru a store, people looked at him differently. He carried himself differently. It fed his desire for more. He ordered an abdominal muscle stimulator, which he didn’t expect to work, but he was wrong. It almost worked too well. Sometimes, when he took it off, his abs would cramp up so hard that he would double over in pain. After some deep breaths, he could stand up and see his abs still twitching. After two weeks of twice a day sessions, he had a six pack without even flexing. He had the taper of a National level gymnast. He checked himself out in the mirror a lot. He liked everything he saw. Except his neck. He wanted it to be thicker and tighter. He bought a neck harness that had a chain attached, and he dug out his sons’ old weight set and used the plates from it to do weighted neck lifts and bridges. Every day. Fuck worrying about overtraining, he figured. At 75, what did he have to lose. His neck responded as fast as his other body parts, and before he knew it, he had the neck and traps of an Olympic wrestler. He bought wide-necked compression tees to show them off better. The tees also highlighted his broad shoulders and extreme taper. His abs showed thru the skin tight fabric. He bought 32” waist jeans, and would go to Home Depot just to see the reaction from contractors and landscapers. He knew his face still showed his age, but that made him enjoy the looks even more. Where was this flush of energy and vitality coming from? He didn’t know, and didn’t care. It felt amazing. His balls must be churning out more test than when he was in his twenties, because he woke up with raging morning wood every day. His body odor was musky and virile. He was horny all the time, and when he jerked off, his ejaculate didn’t just dribble out like before. It shot clear across the room. He felt like he had hit puberty again. His bodyweight had gone from a saggy 155 to a 225lb Adonis retiree. And he was just getting started.
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