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  1. foker

    m/f Zoe's Agonizing Efforts

    Zoe's Agonizing Efforts. Part 1 It was my fifth day in the Netherlands. They hired me to shoot some advertisements in Den Haag and I was going through rows of boring food brands, trying my best to give them a better image that they actually deserved. I have already gotten mentally tired of the routing and especially of the casual white walls of the place they brought me every day to. Not mentioning all the shiny fake smiles, which were accompanying clicks of my camera every now and then. However, today it was different. From the very start in the morning, the driver took me to another location, near the docks. Noticing new scenery around, I briefly checked with the agenda and found out that for today we have a new brand to work with, namely the one producing protein supplements. It has changed everything. The highlight of the day for me was a fitness model, or, due to her extremely bulky condition, I would rather say a bodybuilding model who was presenting the product. One of the crew told me her name was Zoe and she is insanely cool, but also kind mysterious in her behaviour, not letting people to know too much about her. When I saw her first time at the shooting place standing with her massive figure and an incredible V-shape backwards to me, I mistook her for a man. What a fool I was. Afterwards looking at her young beautiful face and magnificent feminine gestures through the camera-lens I had many chances to admire her workout-suit covered body full of grace and extremely developed musculature. She was simply made for posing. I made an assumption she was not even in her twenties. This young hulking maiden was responding and working with the camera very well. Having her all the time gracefully turning and moving around, I could not believe how truly big she was. Even though almost all of her frame was covered in a workout outfit my eyes got wider every time I was looking at the ripped and shredded curves of this angel. Muscles so big and well defined that they were ready to burst through the material. It occurred to me at some point that she was smiling and occasionally lovingly nodding her head at me. Off course, I knew all that was for sake of the product she was called to promote, but I simply could not get rid of the humble feeling, that the shiny rays from her eyes, full of joy, passion and somehow sexual energy were meant for me. Silly me, always ready to make things up. However, after we finished shooting, all I could do was just watching her passing near my suitcase, going to the exit and making my mind go crazy with her huge and ripped glutes, heavily bouncing up and down as she left. When I was packing my stuff, I found a small piece of paper on my camera-bag with the words handwritten: “Meet me today at 22:00. Bring your camera with you. Zoe.” The exact address was there as well. After couple of hours of anticipation, I arrived to the mentioned place, finding myself being very much intrigued. It was a quite big house close to the shoreline. I stood there, full of excitement, making couple of pushes on the doorbell. Only after a minute or so heard I some steps and Zoe appeared, opening the door. There she was, her beautiful smile shining to me. “Glad you came, please come in and… follow me”. Zoe’s voice sounded a bit like she was trying to catch her breath after running or something. Her wide frame was wrapped in a white robe and I briefly thought to myself, already preparing a suitable apology, that my visit took her out of the bathroom. We crossed a big space of her living room and she faced me stopping at the door with a sign “Hardcore Workout Station”. “You know… I liked the way you made pictures of me today… I want you to… photograph me during my… workout. Would you do this for me?” Being excited with her unusual request I replied, “Sure thing, you don’t even have to ask!” Zoe half-opened her mouth and rubbed her forehead in an attempt to wipe the sweat from her face. “I’m asking because… emm… when I workout, I push my body… really hard… and it might be a bit… shocking to… see. Well, are you ready?”. One of her eyebrows went up, evaluating me while she stretched both arms over her head and clasped her wrists, arching her back in a stretch and letting out a soft and content moan. “I was born ready, let’s do this” Opening the door, we both entered a big gym, gorgeously equipped with plenty of workout stations, machines, free weights of all kinds, bars, weighted chains and heavy-loaded pieces of metal I had no idea about. There was even a pair of professional gymnastic rings hanging from the ceiling. Investigating all that parts of heavy iron, I turned myself around and when coming back to face Zoe she has already taken her white robe off. My jaw simply dropped down. In front of me stood young female Adonis with insanely ripped bulging muscles covered in prominent vines. Zoe was a hulking anatomy chart of shredded, striated and vascular musculature. With all her muscles so extremely overdeveloped, she somehow had managed to keep her amazing feminine figure. Most of all thanks to her packed glutes and supremely stacked man-shaming pectorals. What made me looking at her stunned for some seconds was the fact that the only piece of clothes Zoe still had on were sharply curved very thin black thongs, which were desperately struggling to cover her sex. Her magnificent smile appeared again on one of the catchiest faces I have ever seen in my life. “Do you like… what you see?”, she asked me fully aware of the mesmerized state she has put me with her bulging body into. I only managed to nod. Zoe twisted a little back and forth and I could not decide where to land my look onto, alternating between her heavily hanging ripped pecs with no breast tissue at all and her massive arms. Observing the hard striations of her biceps and the protruding outlines of the finger-sized veins running all over them, they were beyond huge even without going into tensioning state. The beautiful Dutch girl then brought both her arms up at once and flexed in an incredible double bicep pose. This made her already colossal arms transform before my eyes, exploding into enormous slabs of she-beef. Each of the shredded biceps was now at least 22 inches in girth! I marvelled at Zoe’s screaming with power arms, which were pure muscle, wrapped in skin that performed more like elastic see-through wrapper at some point. She flexed her arms harder and every tiny striation from the flexors of her forearms, to her hulking biceps and delts deepened and looked like they had been etched into slab or agate covered in a mesh of veins. She grinned while noticing how easily she has sent me to a mesmerized state by a simple double biceps pose. “I think… we will both enjoy this session, please, start shooting and take as many captures as… needed”. Zoe turned around and walked to the squat rack. Meanwhile I adjusted my camera and made the first pictures, featuring her broad muscular back, shockingly ripped glutes with insanely deep striations and her barrel thighs. “Let’s do some warm-up”, Zoe’s voice sounded as much confident as it was sexy. She began to load the bar with heavy 50-kg disks and did not stop until there were five big plates on each side of the 40-kg reinforced barbell. “No way” I shouted, “That’s more than half a ton!”. She only winked at me and got her massive frame under the overloaded bar. Her face expression has changed to rather focused and concentrated. In awe was I studying through camera lens magnificent legs of this incredible Dutch muscle goddess. They were truly a thing of phaenomenon: long and immensely packed with muscles. Zoe had as well perfectly heart shaped calves that bulged out several inches and started to split near the bottom. On top of those were her quads and what a sight they were. Definitely not less than 40 inches around and shredded to the bone. Every individual muscle group had an unmatched level of definition on her bulging with painfully developed striations quadriceps muscles. They almost looked bigger than a football in shape and size. Zoe centred her position adjusting her massive shoulders under the steel bar. Even the slightest of her movements made her quads twitch and bounce, each individual muscle fighting for space on her shredded legs. While she was slowly bending her back to push her hulking young muscular body exactly in between the two columns of the squat rack, I changed my position and took couple of pics standing behind this colossal mass of she-beef. Being not able to accept the fact that this was a girl most probably in her late teen-years. Noticing me going from behind, Zoe bent down a little bit lower and flexed her glutes and hamstrings very hard. My eyes widened, I could hardly believe what I was witnessing. Her ripped glutes looked as if they could be two large jack-o'-lanterns with how striated they were. I zoomed my camera and kept following her legs down, stopping at her radiating hamstrings, watching each long-taught cord form a small dint on the back of her legs as she bent down causing them to bulge outward and inward. Zoe got back up in a determine manner and said. "Here… try to make some close-up photos… Nghaa…". With that she straightened with the heavy loaded bar on her shoulders, took a couple of steps forward and began to squat with all this immense weight. She grunted with efforts but moved rhythmically downwards and upwards with all those heavy plates on the ends of the barbell pressing down. As she got into her perfect rhythm, I was clearly entranced by what was happening in front of me. For some time I’ve totally forgotten to make photos and just stood there, watching this young girl’s behemoth legs lifting more than half a ton rep after rep. Mediocre grunts and moans were leaving her mouth and I stepped forward in order to see her slightly contorted face. “Unghh… Arghh… Hufff…”, then she said, never stopping her pace “Don’t… ughh… forget… mmhhaa… the photos… hhuurr…”. Moving all the weight up and down Zoe’s legs reached completely other level of muscularity. With each rep, they pulsed and quivered under the strain of all that mass of metal. More veins appeared on them, thicker than my fingers! 10 reps… 20 reps… 40 reps…! Incredibly she kept going! I could not register anymore how many times has she lowered her colossally shredded glutes to the floor, there were plenty of veins running over them, making her butt look like something alien. 5 minutes… 7 minutes… 8 minutes… of squatting. Zoe was really straining herself now, but still keeping the pace. She was looking straight at me “Urrrghhhhaaa… yes… Grghaaa… more…! Watch… my legs… grow… bigger… nghaaa…!”. Her thighs were now covered in a web of veins and a layer of sweat. It occurred to me that this is truly a serious business – the level of devotion she has been putting in the exercise was insanely remarkable and I recalled her words about me being ready to witness this. “Mghhgraa…!”, she gritted her teeth and continued squatting up and down for another 5 minutes! Then suddenly she stopped and straightened with the weight. “Mhaa… be sure… to film… this…” Breathing heavily she closed her eyes. What happened next has completely blown my mind. Her bulging tree-trunk legs started to slide down in the opposite directions! “Gghhhuuu….”, a deep growl from Zoe filled the gym. She was slowly and controllably lowering herself into a split position, with 540 kilograms on her shoulders! “Impossible… no fucking way”, I murmured in disbelief staring at this insane feat of strength. Her trembling quadriceps exploded with more shredded definition, more fat veins appeared on them. Her calves bulged and quivered, stabilizing this crazy descend. Zoe growled and sobbed all the time, before finally her legs landed parallel to the floor in a perfect 180-degree split. “Oh… my… fucking gawd…”, I yield at her. She open her beautiful eyes, they were full of tears of this agonizing effort. Zoe had so much muscle in her thighs and calves that her feet were hanging in the air, pointing perfectly to the sides like during the hardest ballet exercises. What a remarkable flexibility was she able reach with such a huge mass of she-beef! When I was about to say something her pretty face contorted again, she threw her head back and I got to my knees, seeing what this incredible muscle girl was about to performing. A loud roar came from Zoe; she tensed all her muscles, starting from her biceps, then her pecs, then her magnificent 10-pack of the billiard balls-sized abs and into her stretched legs. “GGGRRHHAAA…!”. It was as if an electrical impulse came through her ripped body and, impossibly, her legs flexed even harder and she began to lift herself upwards by bringing her agonizingly bulging leg-pillars together. Tears mixed with sweat ran down her cheeks and dropped on the metal barbell on her shoulders, then travelled lower and gathered on her colossal glutes. They were protruding so far from her body I swear I could put a soda bottle on each of them and there would be enough space to place another! I watched in awe as slowly, all the time screaming and sobbing, Zoe was straightening her frame. Her mammoth legs radiating with power. It took her almost a minute until she was at the same position she started this agonizing exercise with. “One…” she exhaled. “Please, bring… more… weight… unghhaa…” Part 2 Refusing to believe and accept what this insanely shredded young muscle goddess in front of me was saying, I stood there, astonished by the incredible feat of strength she has just performed. Her frame was shaking, heavy loaded sides of the barbell were desperately trying to bring her down. Zoe looked me in the eye and repeated, “Please… add… more weight… ngha…”. I rushed to the stack of iron and tried to pick up a 50-kg plate. Gosh it was heavy! I pulled with all my body weight, the plate trembled a bit but there was no way I could heave it. Zoe was watching this readjusting her position, her mouth opened showing the edge of her tongue. Incredible, she had 10 such plates on her shoulders and I was not able to lift one. “Try… the smaller…”, she exhaled. I grabbed the 25-kg one and slid it on the left side of the barbell, repeating the same on her right. It seemed to have no impact on the Zoe’s strained frame, only a light shaking appeared on her quadriceps. “More… put all the 25s…”. She was colossal, with every visible inch of taut, tanned skin completely rippling with unnatural vascularity to accompany the similarly frightening size of her impossible body. I did as she ordered, refusing to believe how hardcore she was. Every time I put the next weight the shuddering in her mammoth thighs worsened. “Grhhaa… yes… more…”. Finally, having additionally five 25-kg plates on each side of the barbell has brought the complete mass Zoe had to withstand to unthinkable 790 kilograms! My hands were wet and shaking, I made a couple of pics, my hungry eyes went from her ankle, up the ridiculous swells and bulges of her pumped legs, lingering for a moment on stretched, distended thongs that were barely visible, engulfed by the mass of muscles around. The strain of her cobblestone, lower abdominals in combination with her powerful, thick and pulsating glutes had almost made them disappear. From there her bloated, taut ten-pack stomach led into two toaster sized mounds of striated, cubical pectoral muscles, any remains of feminine looking breasts were lost in the sheer massive volume of her thick and insanely ripped chest muscles themselves. Zoe’s impressive orbs of power-packed she-beef were impossibly ripped, her nipple-placement was ridiculous: two thick bullets pointing vertical right at the floor. It was a sight of extreme sexuality to watch the drops of sweat running over her colossal chest, redirected by bulges of the pencil-thick veins, finishing their journey on the ends of Zoe’s unnaturally long nipples and finally dropping down to her shredded legs. Her huge pecs full of extreme vascularity looking ready to explode, layers of muscles cutting deeply into the hard bulges and swells of her upper abs cubes. Gawd, she was beyond believe. With a loud grunt Zoe began to perform another set of squats, now with more weight on her shredded shoulders. I looked at her swollen glutes when she was at the bottom of this cruel exercise. Cables of vascularity feeding her hot, engorged butt-muscles, pumping more blood to the most extreme ass I’ve seen in my life. “Gffrha… one… two… three… ngha…”, Zoe counted with her face full of effort and concentration. I could only silently mumble to myself “This is impossible…” The 10th rep was a pure agony nevertheless she finished it with a guttural grunt. Her immense thighs were shaking badly. I took another capture with my camera in order to justify later what I was witnessing now. Noticing this, Zoe looked down to the throbbing, vascular softballs of her pecs, and flexed it harder for me. “Ughhaaraar… pfhhaa… nghaaa…”, she breathed in short strokes. How could she focus on flexing her chest having her back and legs und such a terrible strain? I swear I could hear a creaking leather sound as her skin accommodated the additional, unreal mass, and then came a louder grunt from Zoe as the flex was completed. Her nipples lengthened as well and were almost about to scratch the bulging meat of her upper abdominal cubes! Thick muscles wrestling one another for room on her man-shaming chest were driving me crazy. What came next has completely blown my mind. Zoe lifted her head a bit, her eyes met mine again and she whispered, “I want you to… get… on my… glutes…”. As in a dream I obeyed, put my camera aside to film in a video mode, stood behind her shredded-to-the-core frame and, without taking my winter shoes off, climbed onto her radiating with power glutes. “Uhhh… yess…”, she murmured. I could not believe how hard and extremely developed her Gluteus Maximus were. She kept her back straight, only slightly leaning forward and there was enough space for me to accommodate my feet, having my toes pointing just a bit sideways! It felt like staying on a solidified lava-rocks. I put my hands over the barbell on her broad shoulders to stabilize myself just about time, as Zoe said “Hold on…”, and inhaled a huge portion of air. Unbelievably, she squatted with all this weight again, and eventually began to perform rep after solid rep, grunting heavily! Her muscles were so big and so hard. “Aaaahhhh…", the young muscle-queen moaned loudly at the apex of the 10th repetition. She invested extra efforts to keep her glutes as flexed as possible when moving up and down in order to keep me there. There was a wall-mirror in front of us and as Zoe flexed her rigid, bloated thighs again while holding more than 850 kilograms, I saw more mind-blowing mass in her watermelon-sized, razor-defined quads. Tears began to run on her reddened cheeks. Her trembling was really bad now and I was thinking we would fall at any moment. “Should I step down?”, I asked uncertainly. Facing me in the mirror Zoe whispered through gritted teeth “Grrhhaa… no… stay where you are… this is… for you…”. The exhausted young muscle goddess tensed her ripped glutes even harder, lifting me higher by the sheer strength of her beefy ass. Then her legs started to slide sideways! Oh gawd! Was she doing it again?! With so much weight and after so many squats!? The expression on her beautiful face showed a musk of determination, tiredness and agony of a titanic efforts she was putting into this unthinkable feat of strength. This girl was really hardcore! “GRRHHHAAAaaa…”, with her mouth half open Zoe continued to perform an insane spit calling on the reserves her exhausted muscles still had. A grin on her face was telling a story of a tuff suffering and pain. The movement caused her already twenty-one-inch calves to swell like balloons, each resettling into diamonds of rock-hard upside-down heart shaped meat, cut to shreds, with the most extreme vascularity I have ever seen. I readjusted my sweaty hands on her back, which was a textbook definition of vascularity, her entire mind-blowing musculature was fed by hundreds upon hundreds of veins and arteries, all bringing more blood to her lower body in order to perform this impossible feat. When we were half way down, I heard a loud tearing sound, the lowest pair of her abdominal cubes got so shredded and flexed that her black thongs could not resist any longer. Being stretched by her extremely pumped buttocks they simply exploded and landed on the floor in pieces. Zoe landed in a perfect 180-degree split position again, with her toes pointing to the opposite directions. However, the underside of her screaming with pain glutes could not touch the floor because her colossal thighs got so swollen with pure muscles. She looked at me from the mirror, face full of insane effort, eyes in tears, yet they were sending rays of extreme sexuality. “Uhhh…watch… how strong… my muscles are…”, she opened her mouth and licked her upper lip. Suddenly my left foot rose an inch or two higher and then slowly went down, then the same happened to my right foot. Oh gawd, she was alternatively flexing her magnificent glute muscles! As if it wasn’t crazy enough to perform this split thing by itself, Zoe began to show me she had even more strength in her muscle-butt! After a minute of this flexing and holding under terrible strain her breathing became more like a growling. She flexed all her butt-muscles very hard at one time, lifting me ever higher, threw her head back and roared. “GRRHHHAHAHARRR…!!”. No fucking way, does she want to stand up with this heavy barbell on her shoulders and me on her pulsating glutes by bringing her huge legs together?! Arteries bulged on her abdominal wall, they shrinked both inwards and outwards at the same time, muscles tightening and hardening as they still yet expanded in size. Zoe's midsection was now almost twice as thick as at the moment she started this exercise. Her stomach muscles had been pumped to the point where they created canals almost 3 inches deep! Her blocky pectorals creating an 8 inches deep cleavage of thick stone muscles themselves were hanging heavily upon the first freakish bubbles of her abdominal column. Her ripped pecs were protruding so far from her body that you could put a grown-up man to sit on top of each of them! Zoe growled and tensed them even harder so they jumped almost to touch her jaw! Unbelievably, ever slowly, Zoe was bringing her mammoth and extremely muscular legs closer and closer to each other and we started to rise! She was in agony, with every visible inch of taut, tanned skin completely rippling with exhaustion, yet her will power was ordering every muscle in her body to work even harder in order to do this insane feat of strength. About half way up Zoe stopped her uplifting, her shaking became really wild. It occurred to me that of course, there are limits and she has outdone a lot of them till now. How wrong was I. Suddenly, she looked at me again, her eyes on fire, her face in a terrible pain of these inhuman efforts “Ughhhhaaaa…. this… is… for… you… nhaa…”, what I saw in the mirror made my jaw drop. Pausing her elevation at the most difficult phase, Zoe’s left hand let go of supporting the heavy 790-kg barbell on her shoulders, leaving it to her right hand only. Seductively, her tiny hand cupped one pec, tracing the bullet of her erect nipple, then continued downwards, cupping each bulge of abdominal muscle as she traced her shredded ten-pack with her trembling fingers down to her cunt. She rolled her abs slowly, a smile of agony and satisfaction appeared on her face in tears as she could not resist admiring the cobblestone perfection as each brick of abdominal development bulged on her huge ladder of midsection. “Yess…. more… harder… look at how… hardcore I am… nghaaa…!”. I almost fainted, Zoe’s cobra-hood of back muscles expanded more, pushing my arms apart, pulsating glutes began to dance up and down chaotically, freakish thickness of their rippling sent my mind to nirvana. It all made me lose my balance on this young muscle queen’s massive glutes and I fall backwards, landing on the floor wet of her sweat and cunt juices. When I looked up, Zoe stood perfectly straight, breathing heavily and shaking with the barbell still on her shoulders. With her hand running over her radiating abdominal muscles she exhaled “Two…” Part 3 Moaning heavily with tears running down her reddened cheeks, Zoe took couple of steps back and with a laud grunt racked the huge barbell onto the metal hinges of the weight station. Her colossal legs gave out and she dropped on all fours right under the impossible mass she has been lifting for reps. Facing the floor with her eyes closed she desperately tried to stabilize her breathing. Being completely shocked of what I have just witnessed and not knowing how to react or what to say I found nothing better to do than to grab my camera and took some of the craziest pics in my life. The proximity of this young muscle goddess could not be fully excepted by my brain. Her relative short but unbelievably wide frame, thickened and amplified with every breath she took. Pumped slabs of steeled muscles vibrated with hardcore strength. Her mammoth thighs shaking in the aftermath of extreme workout. Each and every cord of her incredible quadriceps still trembling. Zoe’s enormous man-shaming pectorals locked firmly between her shredded veiny biceps. Watching at all this quivering muscle madness through the camera lens I could only think of some outrageously exaggerated manga-art featuring impossibly muscled girls. Visions of hard, bulging, oiled cartoon monstrosities appeared in my head - bodies bloated with gigantic muscle under young, supermodel faces. But these were all drawings, and I could not comprehend that a lot of imaginary art just paled in comparison to the young, beautiful muscle-goddess just inches from me. Zoe’s shattering physique combined with her gorgeous look made suspect that I somehow was losing the track of what was real and what was not. “Huuuuff… nhaa…”, her loud sighs reflected off the gym-walls made the whole ambient extremely sexy. Then she straightened, stood up and looked at me, her face was rather a mask of exhaustion. I could only mutter “This was… unbelievable…”, marveling at her remarkable physic of hers. Zoe managed a brief smile, running both her tiny hands over her protruding pectorals down to the mountains and valleys of her abs cubes, a slight flex turning her stomach into a perverted, shredded cobblestoned canyon of muscularity. “You have the biggest and the hardest muscles I have ever seen, especially your glutes, impossible!”, finally I got brave enough to speak of what was going on. She only grinned and I could see a fire lighted in her eyes. “It has been… only a warm up… do you want to see… how hardcore I train my buttocks?”. My mouth opened but I could not make a sound, there was only my head going chaotically up and down. Zoe turned her broad muscular back to me and walked to the opposite wall. Meanwhile I studied her bubbling, wrought-iron glute muscles as the teen muscle-queen came closer to a strange steel I-beam, which was two meters long and firmly attached to the ceiling with four big bolts. The distance between its end and the floor was about one and a half meter. The tip of it was flattened and performed in a prolongated T-form. It looked quite like the ones you see at construction sites, only shorter. There was a small ladder under it, Zoe climbed it on, her big quad muscles swinging from side to side, faced me again and said “I would need you… to help me with this exercise… be ready… to see my muscles work… harder…”, her voice was so sexy and so serious at the same time. Very much excited, I rushed closer, never stopping to admire her outstanding figure. Standing on the ladder, she had the squished end of the I-beam at her chest level. All of a sudden, Zoe went into a handstand and by maneuvering her massively thick and widely bulging, awesomely veiny body, brought her buttocks closer to the T-formed steel end. Leaning backwards, she flexed her shredded glutes and they began to move apart, hugging the iron appendix. “Uhh… yess…”, she whispered filling the cold metal touch on her pulsating flesh. My eyes darted frantically from her delicate face, to her striated, pumpkin-sized glutes. I stepped closer and then aside to reach a proper field of view for my camera. The majority of what I could see were thick, meat-stuffed and veiny Gluteus Maximus, bulging striations crossing one another and making her skin look like scaled top of a volcano. Glances at her young, gorgeous face, green eyes and sweet red lips, made the outrageous, ripped to shreds body right in front of me much more perverted and confusing as well. What happened next made me step back in shock, having the steel end of the I-beam securely between her beefy glutes, Zoe tensed her butt muscles, grabbing a hold on the metal rod with the sheer power of her radiating ass! With her hands she carefully moved aside the ladder and let go of it, now supporting herself in the air by pressing her glutes together, the T-form end trapped firmly in between her shredded alien buttocks! “Nghaaa…!”, she breathed out and straightened her massive back and legs to the opposite sides, reaching a perfect horizontal position. I swallowed hard, watching her vein-mapped, muscle-lumped stomach got under strain of this incredible feat of strength. Zoe put her hands on her back and flexed her already enormous pectorals, the hard chest screamed with wriggling meat, the 2-inch long nipples pointed straight down at the floor. Zoe’s huge power-packed physique was held there by the rippling muscles of her butt! Her face contorted showing how much effort she had to put in order to maintain her body in this insane state. Every small and big muscle was tensed and worked hard, pulsating with web of thick veins. Her glutes got totally explosive, expanding unnaturally beyond any imaginable anatomical limits. With a grunt of terrible effort Zoe flexed them even harder and, to my amazement, I saw additional quirky bulges atop of the major gluteus meat on each of her ripped-to-shreds ass-cheeks. It was impossible for me to understand how could such a young beautiful girl threw herself under such brutal body-punishing trainings in order get so much muscle mass! As if being able to read my mind, Zoe pointed at the stack of 25-kg plates on the floor to her left, turned her head to me and whispered “These babies belong… on my back… bring them on…!”, gawd her trembling voice sounded extremely sensual. Her body was already under an awful strain, how could she be willing to make it even more difficult!? This girl was simply insanely extreme. In seconds I found myself standing on the ladder with a heavy weight next to her shuddering body, refusing to believe she was doing this to herself. “Put it on…”, the young muscle angel exhaled and began to perform an ever-expanding double biceps pose, expanding her huge back muscles to a ridiculous size and inviting me to let go of the plate. In awe I saw how metal touched the canyons of her hot V-shaped back-meat. “Grhaa…”, only a slight guttural grumble left her mouth and she kept her body still horizontal in the air, flexing her ass-cheeks more to except this additional punishment. Her intoxicatingly close erupting volcano of a body was filled to the bursting point with rock hard, disgustingly cut muscle. I would never get how was she able to hold herself stretched in the air only by the strength of her glutes?! She released the biceps pose and touched the sides of her screaming buttocks with her tiny hands “Feel… my… muscles…unhaaa…”. Immediately I went for Zoe's throbbing, swelling and pulsating orbs of glute-meat. My sweaty hands roamed the bumpy, granite landscape of her radiating butt, feeling finger-thick veins feeding them with blood, as Zoe continued to keep her enormous body-beef in this agonizing, fully straightened-in-the-air position. “AAAarrghhh… yesss…”, the heavy 25-kg plate was inevitably trying to bring her down, but she was fighting it, gritting her teeth. With every second of this incredible workout my hands felt more moving, pumping veins under the taut, tanned skin of her ass-cheeks. The feeling of smooth skin stretched like rubber over monstrous, solid rocks of power has completely perplexed me. “Fucking shit… so much muscles, so huge!”, I mumbled. Her face reddened and with a loud sigh she arched her colossal back higher. Suddenly I felt something gliding over my leg. Oh gawd, by flexing her rippling pectorals aside she touched me with the striated she-beef of her right pec! “Mmmmm… mmmooore… weight… nhaa… bring the second… plate… ufff…”. I stopped caressing her volcanic glutes, rushed down and came back with the next heavy plate. My fingers were wet of her hot sweat so I could not hold it for long and simply dropped it on her cobra-back. “Grhhaa…! Unnnghhh… yess….”, the momentum of this heavy throw caused her upper body to lean down and for a brief second I thought the two plates will slip to the floor. “Ffffghhhhaaa…!”, but with a growl of pain Zoe somehow managed to restore the agonizing form of the exercise. Now she breathed in short strokes “Nhaa… more… weight… please… uhhh…hhaaa…”, the reality blanked further and I obeyed, putting the third 25-kg weight on her broad back. Just at the moment when I let go of it a deep short scream came from her throat and she ended it with words painted in pain of agonizing efforts “HHhrrrraaa… mmmmoooreee… put… mmoorrreee… bring…another… one… pphphhaa…”, her whole frame started to shake progressively. When with my tired arms I dismounted the fours 25-kg plate, bringing the complete weight to the impossible 100 kilograms up on her back, Zoe roared wildly and her corded glute muscles went insane! How was she able to hold all that!? “Tttouch… them…”, heard I her saying through pain and tears. In shock, I ran my fingers from the round edges of the 4 heavy plates down her lower back flesh and to the cording and rippling with veinwork huge slabs of her muscular butt. She brought her arms down, arching her back, making the iron plates rise higher and performed a mind-blowing most muscular pose while shaking like a leaf! “Ghhhrrraa… look… what… I can… do… mhaa… for… your…”, with that all the enhanced girl-meat flexed even crazier! From where did she take the strength reserves will I never know. My mouth opened in frank ecstasy as I kneaded the iron swells and freakish bulges of her Glutes Maximus to no avail. Zoe sobbed and cried but still was keeping this agonizing position, her face in tears, her eyes closed, going through the ocean of physical suffering, yet demanding more and more from her exhausted muscles. Her left glute wriggled under my hand, causing me to gasp as I felt the quirky movement and more and bulges appeared to strengthen a hold of the T-form end of the steel I-beam. Zoe was pressing the inner muscles of her glutes together with no mercy. The pure power of her buttocks was shocking! I could easily separate layers and layers of different muscle groups which I had no idea could ever exist on a regular person’s butt in her hardcore glute development. Her granite ass-cheeks were now covered in plenty of sweat drops, they were so shredded that I could see small lakes formed by the explosive bulges of her mass! “This is fucking insane… nobody can be this strong…”, I muttered rather to myself. She caught her breath in between her groans of agonizing efforts, let her massive arms swing to the floor and cried “Please… more… weight… oooohhhh… give… me… that… barbell... uhhhmmhaa…”. To be continued… Disclaimer: All characters in this work of fiction are 18 years or older __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ If you like it be sure to check for more at www.patreon.com/foker and https://www.deviantart.com/foker/gallery/
  2. pasidious

    m/m Becoming an Alpha - Part 1

    Hope this isn't too cliche! I know I've been spotty with posting stuff, and I apologize. I've had a lot of trouble maintaining interest in any one story I've worked on. Part 2 __________________________ I'll admit. I was never an alpha. I always wanted to be, though. I'd see the other dudes in the locker room or at the park or at the mall or... well, anywhere, really, being cocky studs because they had the confidence and bodies to prove it. It was always frustrating in high school to have to be in the locker room with these athletes and watch them flexing their arms, comparing with each other, showing off, and I'd have to hide in the corner somewhere hoping not to be noticed because, let's face it, I had no body to be proud of. I wasn't fat, but I still had, like, zero muscle on my frame. I wasn't athletic, though I may have always tried my best when I had to. Watching them flex their muscles would always turn me on, though. I'd see a dude flex and instantly my dick would twitch and start growing, harder and harder until full throbbing hardness, even well after the image of the flexing, bulging muscle had left my view. And it wasn't just seeing flexing muscles that would get me hard, either. I could simply be at the mall and see a group of friends walking together, some or all of them with tight, athletic, muscular bodies hiding beneath tight-fitting clothes. Sometimes, to me, that was even hotter than bare-chested Adonises. I could never explain to myself or make sense of how that would sometimes be hotter to me. There was just... something about a dude with a hot sexy muscular body wearing a tight shirt. It probably had something to do with how he clearly knew he was sexy, and deliberately put on clothes that would showcase it. But anyways... I'd grown up through middle school, high school, and now in college with this insatiable lust for muscle and simply seeing it. I'd had plenty of jerk-off sessions simply from looking at sexy dudes flexing or showing off their amazing muscled bodies. Coming into college, I'd felt that we were all a little more mature and too busy to make time for mocking each other, so I finally decided to try to add some muscle of my own to my frame. I figured there could be nothing hotter for a guy like me who loves to simply SEE muscle than to have some of my own that I could see any time I wanted. So, I decided to make use of the campus gym. Of course, being an amateur, at best, I was mostly guessing how to exercise. But I'll admit it did feel good to get these pumps going with my biceps and chest, and even my legs. I'd love to see the veins crossing all over my muscles as I worked them. And I was right, in college guys weren't really trying to make fun of me. I'd get some looks, sure, but no one ever said anything. And the gym was often pretty empty, anyway, since most of us were busy with studying and schoolwork. After a few weeks of trying to add my own muscle, I was starting to feel a little worn out and discouraged. I'd been doing my best, but I wasn't seeing any progress. I had a particularly hard workout one day, in spite of my discouragement, and upon entering the locker room, I saw another dude in there. It looked like he was getting ready to work out. He hadn't changed yet. I thought "Oh great. I'd better go to the opposite side of the locker room so he doesn't see how skinny I am." In spite of my success at remaining under the radar, I still had my fear of being mocked. Unfortunately, it wasn't a very large locker room, so even as far away from him as I could be, I could still see him well enough, and he could see me. I removed my sweaty T-shirt, and tossed it into my gym bag, and put on my clean one. I turned around and briefly caught a glimpse of the other dude, and... fuck. He was in front of the mirror, his sleeve pulled back, and was flexing his bicep. It was a really nice ball of a bicep, too. I did the classic double-take, and saw him running his hand over it. And then he proceeded to flex his other arm and do the same thing. Of course my dick started growing rock hard. And fast. I felt my cock head sliding across the fabric of my shorts, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through my entire groin and shivers down my spine. "Fine time to get horny," I thought to myself. I forced myself to look away from him, realizing further staring would get me noticed and I was already throbbing. I didn't want to start leaking, too. I sat down on the bench to remove my shorts and change into my jeans. I slid my shorts down, noting the unbearably obvious tent in my boxers. I couldn't help but enjoy the pleasure of feeling the hem of my shorts slide over my cock as I pulled them off. "Whoa...!" I heard it, and it took me way too long to realize it wasn't a sound that I had produced. I stood up, spun around, and pressed my back into the lockers, seeing the other dude had been right behind me. I saw his eyes, and they weren't meeting my face. They were staring down at my crotch, which I realized was still standing straight out. "Dude, that is one huge cock," he said. "W-what?" He finally look up into my face. "Your dick, dude. It's huge. I've never seen a dick that big." Trying to be nonchalant, I responded "Y-you haven't actually seen it, i-it's covered by my boxers..." "Shit, dude, it's still obviously huge, it's gotta be at least 7 inches!" He said. He was right, too, because like most guys, I've measured it. But I'd never really bothered to compare myself to other guys in that department. I'd always assumed I was average size. "And, uh, you could fix that right now, if you wanted. Lemme see it," he said. "Uh... I--" I started to say. But he advanced toward me, and my back was already against the lockers. I grabbed my boxers and pulled them down for me, and I was too frozen in place to even try to stop him. My dick bounced out of its confinement, my cock head red and full of fury. "Holy shit, dude," he said. "Can I...?" he asked, and before I even knew what exactly he was asking, he had his hand on my dick, squeezing it and stroking it. I felt myself shudder. My mind was showing images of this dude flexing his biceps just moments before this, and it was making my dick throb hard. But then he knelt down and began licking at the head, still stroking with his hand. "Fuck yes," he said while taking his mouth off for a moment, then proceeding to try to take all of my dick into his mouth. I heard him gag a bit, and I felt his throat close around my dick. But fuck, it felt really goddamn good. I'd never felt this much pleasure from my cock, before. He resumed his sucking, running his tongue all around me, my cock throbbing and twitching, "MMMMmmm yeah," I heard myself say, without meaning to. He seemed to take that as encouragement, and increased the fervor with which he was sucking. I rapidly felt the intense pressure of impending orgasm approaching, and I felt a tingling around my entire body. "Oh... Ahh!" I said, once again unintentionally. The pleasure was too great. It was intense as fuck, more intense than anything I've ever felt before. I felt him grab onto the backs of my legs and squeeze, and I knew it was time. I was cumming. The first shot exploded from my cock, and I use that word because that's what it felt like. An explosion of cum. I shot super hard. And more was about to come. But I also felt my dick swell, still in his mouth. It was insane. It was like my dick got harder while I was shooting a load. "Mmmf..." I heard from my pleasurer, and then another shot came. But this time I felt more tingling around my body, and suddenly I felt myself grow. My entire body swelled bigger. It was like getting an erection, but it was that feeling around my entire body. I saw my forearms grow thicker, and my chest pushed out, causing my T-shirt to tighten a bit across my formerly completely nonexistent pecs. "Unngnhhh" I breathed, trying to contain my expressions of exuberance. I felt another shot explode from the tip of my swollen cock, and he sucked it down his throat, eagerly swallowing as though it were life-giving water after having spent days in the desert with none. And again, I felt my whole body swell, my eyes rolled into the back of my head. It felt ridiculous. I'd have never imagined this feeling, not before, not ever. I looked down again at my forearms and they were writhing with veins and tendons, and they had the look of a gym-rat's forearms. The kind that showed a person was strong. Another shot blasted from my cock, and I knew it was dying off. I stood there, reveling in the feeling of having my dick sucked for the first time ever, by a stranger, no less, and even though I had already reached orgasm, it still felt amazing to have this jock sucking me off. He popped my still semi-hard dick out of his mouth, and while it shuddered and descended, he took his own muscled forearm and wiped it across his mouth. And he then stood up and looked me up and down, my lower half exposed still but my torso still wrapped with my T-shirt. "Dude, that was the best dick I've ever sucked," he breathlessly said, still eyeing me up and down. "You're a lot more fit than I thought!" I looked down at myself and saw that'd definitely grown some. My legs were definitely thicker, and I literally watched my forearms swelling with hard muscle as I blew my load down this guy's throat. I smiled sheepishly as I looked back at him and said "Thanks." We heard someone else entering the gym and we both turned our heads to the entrance of the locker room. He looked back at me and said "Maybe we can do this again sometime," and shot me a smile. "Sure," I said, not really realizing to what I was agreeing. Like I said, I'd never gotten a blowjob before, and this was a new experience for me. I was still in a stupor over what had just transpired. I grew. It was like all the work I'd put into my body had suddenly decided to take shape all at once, and the trigger was a blowjob. He turned and walked away, exiting the locker room. Turns out the people who had entered the gym were girls so we'd still have had our privacy for a while longer, but I was glad he decided to leave. I pulled on my pants and put the rest of my shit in my gym bag. I started to leave the locker room but, as I passed by the mirror, I couldn't help myself. I stepped backward a few steps and looked at my reflection. I saw wider shoulders and a new chest that was protruding outward a bit. Not a lot, but enough that I actually didn't look like a total weakling. I checked the entrance to the locker room again, as though it'd matter, and I quickly pulled the sleeve back on my right arm and flexed. I saw a nice little ball of muscle rise up, and a nice vein was protruding at the top. Definitely bigger than before. I smirked. I saw myself smirk. It felt great to flex and not feel ashamed of my own arm. I had an actual bicep. And I definitely wanted it bigger. I wanted all of me bigger. Part 2 ____________________________________________ Also, does anyone have any of my old stories saved from the Unfiltered section that used to exist? I'm not asking for it to be posted here or anywhere. I'm simply asking if someone would be willing to send me any copy they may have saved. Again, to be clear, not asking for it to be posted here. If you have them or even just one of them and would like to send me a copy, please send me a private message.
  3. Ozymandias

    m/m Control (Part 5 added 25/05)

    Hi all, this is my first bash at putting up a story. Part 1 is a little on the short side, but serves as the introduction. I write primarily for fun, but enjoy the process (when writer's block doesn't strike, that is) - so any and all feedback is very much appreciated. Part 1: The Hunger He can't stop growing. Not that he wanted to, of course. He was addicted. It always ends up that way. The hunger is dormant at first, biding its time. Like many appetites (or should I say addictions?), it requires a trigger - a first taste. That first taste of muscle is like nothing else after; it stays with him forever. Often it’s a cartoon, featuring some character growing more muscular. Depending on the when he first imbibes, it may not even arouse him...merely intrigue - fascinate - him, for reasons he can’t yet grasp. But the hunger is awakened, and over time it starts to make itself known. Almost subconsciously, he will begin to seek out more. The hunger is insidious, and insatiable. Inevitably, it enslaves them. With each indulgence, it only grows more voracious. Stories of growth are joined by videos of bodybuilders; but the hunger soon demands more. He then joins a gym, and starts to grow, clothes tightening and giving way. Yet still the hunger is not satisfied. Each fall, deeper and deeper into the addiction, is easier to stomach than the last. It starts becoming easier to embrace the hunger. At first he resists the allure of steroids, but that resistance falters when the growth slows. As it happens, the ones who resist tend to perform the best; those who give in early often self-destruct, which just cuts short the pleasure. Inevitably, he succumbs to the promise of more, and faster, growth. Another fall. It will be followed by more - stacking numerous drugs, again and again. By this point, the hunger is all that’s left. Day and night revolve around feeding it. Such an innocent beginning. Such a glorious end. *** He is wanking furiously, pleasuring himself with dreams of enormity. His pecs - heaving as he grunts and groans - are so bloated he can’t reach his arm around to properly grasp his cock, forcing him to violently buck his hips. The chair is smothered by his mass, and creaks ominously with each thrust. His grotesquely swollen body glistens with sweat from the exertion (it’s hard work moving that much mass), filling the screen through which I watched him. He is monstrous. He is beautiful. His face - which looks comically small and awkwardly placed atop his body - is the sole remaining physical hint of what he once was. Boyishly handsome, dirty blond hair and brown eyes. Even contorted in pleasure - as much mental as physical - he remains handsome. That face is all that’s left of the days when he was a mere 120lbs at 5’7”. Today, he tipped the scales at 287lbs. I gave him a smile, to show I was happy with how far he’d come. “You’ve grown into quite the big boy!” I comment. He thrusts and groans as he hears my compliment. Something in the chair breaks. His shoulders are too broad to fully fit in the screen, and with each stroke of his hand striations ripples across the deltoid heads. His arms are swollen with power, each the size of his head, with the intersections of the deltoids and biceps etched in stone. My mouth salivates at the sight of them. Below the pec shelf, so heavy it sags, comes his rock-hard abdomen, with eight thick abdominal blocks carved in splendid relief, as if my a master sculptor. Framing his engorged manhood are splayed quads thicker than my waist (by several inches), the hugely overdeveloped heads of muscle flexing slightly with each buck of his hips. Between his moans - and dreams of being so much bigger - he manages to whisper: “More...please, more…” I cock my head teasingly, pretending not to have heard him. In truth, though, his question has deeply affected me. Tears almost come to my eyes. I can’t help but admire the hundreds of pounds of perfect, beautifully overgrown muscle desperately fighting for space on his tortured body. He has pushed it hard, punishingly so...but it did the only thing it could do: balloon, and balloon, and balloon, with muscle. He can easily go further. How much further? I don’t know. But we both want to find out. Poor boy. So desperate, and oh so so hungry. He’s gone so far. “Please!” he pleads, he begs, between frantic thrusts. His eyes crying out to me. “Make me bigger!” It’s curious. He knows he’s a freak, a monster. And yet, he doesn’t. He sees the great mountains of muscle he has grown, but doesn’t quite comprehend them. He never thought he could come so far, but he cannot imagine stopping now. It’s a vicious - or perhaps virtuous, depending on your viewpoint - cycle. Growth simply spurs the desire - the need - for more. A feedback loop of transitory pleasure. Each fix sets the stage for the next. It does not end. But that is what makes it oh so glorious. I smile again, a tear flowing this time. Such a beautiful, eager boy. He is a wonder to behold. “I think that can be arranged,” I reply. He explodes.
  4. jrt5810

    The Magnate and the Monster

    One “You have great potential,” I heard one guy say to another. The deep voice came from just behind me, close and loud enough to be heard over the bass thundering from the DJ booth. I’d just paid for my drink, after squeezing my way up to the crowded bar and waiting too long to spend too much on a beer. It was Friday night, I had the next week off work, and I was ready to enjoy myself. I started inching my way towards the dance floor. I’d just come from the gym and had my “party pump” on. Pecs clearly outlined in my tight t-shirt, arms stretching the sleeves just slightly, jeans showing off a well-earned bubble butt. I may not have been the biggest guy at the bar – and not nearly big enough for my liking – but I had good size and plenty of definition, and the boys loved it. “I said – you have great potential.” It was the same voice, right behind me once again even though I’d moved a few yards away from where I last heard it. I paused for a second, still assuming this was someone else’s conversation and not wanting to turn around like a fool. “Yeah kid, I’m talking to you,” the voice rumbled. I turned on my heel, eyebrow inquisitively raised, to find out the source of the deep voice. And when I saw this guy...well, I couldn't stop myself from letting out, "Damn." I'm not normally on the hunt for daddies, but this guy was stunning. Taller than me – probably 6'2 to my 5'8 – with a salt-and-pepper high-and-tight, a jawline that could bust down a door, and steely gray eyes. And stuffed into a navy polo shirt was the unmistakable build of a serious, if amateur, bodybuilder. The big man gave me a quick smirk and wink at my response. I'm normally the confident pursuer but in mere seconds he'd gotten me locked on. He extended a calloused hand and we shook. "I'm Jay,” he said. "I want to train you." I was completely caught off guard. "I want to train you"? What the fuck is that? "I want to fuck you"? Sure. Heard that. "I want you to fuck me"? That too. Jay noticed my obvious confusion and smiled. "This is where you tell me your name and ask me what I mean by 'train you.'" The music in the club continued blaring, and guys continued pushing past us, alternately cruising Jay or me. "Hi. I'm Billy. What the hell do you mean by 'train me'?" I laughed. "Billy, you've got a beautiful body. I saw you come in tonight. Just came from the gym, didn't you? Wanted to look big for the boys, I’m betting.” Jay was clearly perceptive. He continued, "You look great right now, but I’ll guess that you want more size. And I know how to turn you into a work of art." "Most guys lead with offering to buy me a drink, Jay.” I smiled. He stepped closer to me, cupping his left hand around the back of my neck, resting his right palm on my chest, and staring down at me with piercing eyes. Normally, I would not tolerate behavior like this from a stranger in the bar, but something about his manner felt comforting. And, well, don't hold it against me, but he was fucking hot. "Let me train you. I'll turn you into a god amongst men." He continued with his intense fixed gaze. This was a man who was efficient with his words. "Can we at least fuck first?" I responded, looking up at him like a puppy begging for a treat. "You mean I don't even have to buy you a drink?" Jay said, with a big smile. I let out a laugh just as he pulled me in tightly against his huge chest and leaned down to kiss me. So powerful, so masculine, so dominant. And yet intimate, soft, tender. I'd never experienced a kiss that had such a profound impact on me, that stopped time, that rewired my brain the way good drugs or great songs can. I felt torn apart and glued back together, and I'd met him just moments earlier. Jay pulled away, gazing down at me with smiling eyes. "Was that as amazing for you as it was for me?" "I... Uh... Yeah..." I babbled like a fool. "Billy, I think this is the start of something incredible. Let's jet." Jay grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd and out the door. I suddenly realized I hadn't had the chance to take in all of him yet. Seeing him walking ahead of me, I got a better sense of just how powerfully built Jay was. It was rare to see a bodybuilder at his height with the width and mass to match the proportions of shorter lifters, but Jay was the total package. Incredibly broad shoulders and lats, a narrow, lean waist, and the most gorgeous squatter's ass and legs I'd ever seen. How he'd squeezed all that beef into those tight jeans was a mystery, but I imagined it involved Teflon spray. We left the club and entered into the cool night. Jay kept a grip on my hand as we walked a few busy city blocks to the parking lot. While I'm by no means closeted and the city is by no means conservative, his forthrightness and effortless confidence in walking down the sidewalk hand in hand felt bold, almost defiant. This was a man who did what he wanted, when he wanted. I just hoped that what he wanted would be compatible with what I wanted. We reached the parking garage and Jay tapped a button on his phone. A few spots ahead, a big black Mercedes sedan came aglow and rumbled to life. So this guy was beautiful, magnetic, AND rich? This was all too much. "Now you're just showing off," I said as he opened the passenger door for me. He walked around and dropped his bulging physique into the spacious, leather-swathed cockpit. "Oh, stud," he responded as he blipped the powerful car's throttle pulling out of the parking spot. "You ain't seen nothin' yet."
  5. //TW: Mental Health, Dissociation, and Noncon Bruce Banner was alone in the previously abandoned laboratory, deep into the mountainous wilderness of British Columbia, outside of the Unites State’s usual military patrols. The laboratory was well isolated, taking Bruce three days of driving and two weeks of hiking to reach, but it was well worth it. Half way up one of the many fir and cedar covered mountain was a cliff face with an iron door. Within Bruce found the abandoned treasure. An older radiology lab with rare and experimental equipment, albite it was old equipment, but Bruce was willing to try anything for more information, hoping to cure himself of the life-breaking curse known as the Hulk. Bruce shudders at even thinking his name, always aware of the beast resting inside him, waiting. He shakes his head. He knows the best way to handle his other half is using a ‘out of mind, out of sight’ technique. If he avoids thinking about him, getting stressed about the inevitable change slowly simmering inside him, he can avoid being pulled in to the mind-space where the Hulk is free to… “No, don’t think about that.” Bruce says out loud, brining himself out of his thoughts and back to his work. It was hard though, in his hands was page after page of new test results, which at first thrilled Bruce, piquing his curiosity. In short time that excitement turned to disappointment and pity, as those pages of data told him what every other page of data has told him. He’s messed up beyond normal scientific recognition. None of this was giving him ideas or clues for a cure, it was making him frustrated and depressed. His eyes rolled over graph after graph, the results of the tests so dramatic that it breaks the test’s own result metric. Great. A number so huge it printed right off the page. Spectacular. Oh, what’s this? A page that just reads “ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.” Over and over again. Bruce rests his face in his hands, that exactly how he’s feeling right now. Bruce tries so hard to be strong, to be above his emotions, because the moment he breaks down the Hulk is right there to catch him in the meaty clubs that is his hands, and violate him until he gives up and let’s go. It’s the reason he gets stress nightmares about hulking out in public. Bruce opens his eyes and shivers, his breathing becoming faster. Bruce blocks out those memories of when he’s trapped in his mind with Hulk, the horrible things the beast does, and how deep down he loves it. But as the poor doctor sits at the old aluminum table in the testing lab he can’t help but feel like all of his stress is collapsing in on himself. Day after day of bushwhacking, cleaning the whole lab, getting the generator room in working order, even fixing the plumbing so he could shower and use the toilet; all for this, for what he already knew. Bruce was starting to verge on a nervous breakdown. A familiar panic swells up inside the stress ridden doctor, as his vision start to blur around the edges as the overwhelming negative emotion starts to make him to disassociate. And as he always does, the Hulk rumbles to life within Bruce, sensing the emotional destress. Bruce whips up from his slouched, apathetic posture, body tingling all over with life, like a pulse of electricity inside him. “No! No! Hulk please rest again, I’m fine!” he calls out, only talking to himself. Theirs a heavy silence within Bruce’s mind. “PUNY BANNER HURT BY PAPER... HULK NO LET BANNER HURT.” The Hulk replies in a rumbling growl within Bruce, always acting as Bruce’s “protector”, even if his version of protection completely destroyed Bruce’s life and chances at happiness. Tears roll down Bruce’s face as he desperately tries to catch his breath, bating off negative thoughts and surges of stress and despair. “It’s- It’s just stress, I- I can- AAAHHHHH!” he’s cut off by his own scream, he feels the Hulk’s huge arm wrap around his chest, trying to pull him out of reality and into the mind-space. He looks down and there’s no arm around him but it’s there, he can feel it. Bruce’s eyes widen as he feels a familiar burning sensation in his eyes, the feeling of his iris’s glowing gamma green. Suddenly it feels like time freezes for Bruce, the clicking and grinding of all the machines suddenly disappear, and the lighting of the room feels off and unnatural. The giant green arm wrapped around his waist is their now. Bruce can feel the heavy puffs of air leaving Hulk’s nose blowing against his hair. He was in the mind-space, disconnected from reality. “BANNER REST… HULK TAKE CARE OF IT.” The baritone brute spoke. “No! You can’t just… TAKE ME OVER! You don’t control me!” Bruce retorts, wrenching himself out of Hulk’s surprisingly soft grasp. The Hulk looks unsurprised by this, only annoyed. Bruce snaps back to reality, his head is pounding with a hazy headache, his body feels heavy and sluggish, despite his heartbeat pounding wildly. His body was BEGGING him to dissociate again, desperately not wanting to deal with the trauma of another panic attack. Bruce’s logic fights what his body wants, knowing that letting himself sink lets the beast out. He takes deep breaths, steadying his hands on the table. He tries everything to ground himself in reality again, but it’s an unstable battle, his vision blurs and focuses again, seeing the objects around him but not really recognizing or acknowledging them, in the worst dream-like state imaginable. “I’m ok. I’m ok. I’m…” his head dips as the world goes black around him. This time there is no room around him. It was just Bruce, Hulk, and the never ending blackness of his own subconscious. The 18 foot tall jade muscle giant stood before him, nude and bulging with muscles all over, looking like a hyper masculine Hercules mixed with a primal caveman. “PUNY BANNER SHAKING WITH SRTESS… HULK STRONG.” He states, and deep down Bruce knows it’s true, it’s just so much harder to ignore when he’s face to face with Hulk’s godly masculinity. Bruce tries not to look at it, but his eyes glace down at Hulk’s massive cock. It dangles long, wide, and fat like a lazy snake laying on top of two massive forest-green bull nuts. The tip of the deep emerald cock head peeking out the thick foreskin. Bruce hates that, he’s circumcised, but Hulk regrows a full head of sensitive dick skin. Hulk feels Bruce’s eyes on him and hits a masculine pose. Raising his arms above his head and flexing his iron cannonball biceps. His huge fat pecs bouncing with life, shelves of muscle with just a bit of padding to keep them round and juicy. Big round abs like a swollen brick road. Massive treetrunk thighs bulge as they flex and rub against each other, and Hulk’s massive, green moons of ass flex and strain, but remain round and padded with a layer of fat. Hulk was simply overflowing with masculinity. Hulk hoped Bruce wouldn’t struggle this time. Bruce stuttered to life, breaking out the trance of Hulk’s impressive form. “N-N-NO! I don’t want to be a monster! I worked so hard to get the lab back up and running, I can’t let-“ “LAB MAKE BANNER ANGRY, LET HULK SMASH!” the big green giant roared back in retort. “NO! I CAN’T LET THIS ALL GO TO WASTE!” Bruce screamed back. “YOU CAN’T TAKE WHATEVER YOU WANT FROM ME, I WORKED SO HARD TO GET HERE I-MMMPPHHH!!!” Bruce was cut off by Hulk’s massive hand, fat green fingers pressing over his mouth. Hulk’s heard enough puny excuses, he doesn’t care what comes out of Banner’s mouth, he’s here to protect him from the breakdown causing them distress “HULK NEVER GET BANNER…” he rumbled out. Bruce wiggles and thrashes but it’s nothing against the vice like grip of Hulk’s huge bear paws. Bruce panics again, he was being overpowered per-usual, he felt helpless, a small voice in the back of his head starting to say “let go… let it turn black… it’s useless to fight.” Bruce wanted to cry, but then a spark of courage lights inside him. This is the head-space, normal rules don’t apply he realizes. “I’m stronger than the Hulk, I’m stronger than him!” He thinks, trying hard to convince himself. “BANNER NOT.” Hulk says like it was a plain fact, hearing Bruce’s thoughts. With one concentrated thrash Bruce breaks free of the Hulk’s grasp, sending the mighty titan back a bit. Bruce takes in a massive breath, snapping back up. The weight and stress of the panic attack flooding his senses immediately. If his headache was pounding before it was a jackhammer against his skull now. His vision almost fully blurred and tears wet the sides of his face. His heartbeat was fast like the spokes on a runaway train, beating wildly. The veins in his body are bulging, turning into a glowing green spiderweb. His muscles feel swollen and used, like he was just at the gym. He can feel patches of sweat in the armpits of his white button up shirt, in fact his whole body was running hot. Bruce could feel the energy of the Hulk surging all over within him. He stood up, the stool under him being shoved over by Bruce’s thighs. He presses his hands down on the metal table to steady himself, but Bruce’s hands dent the metal; just a drop of Hulk’s strength. Bruce can feel his muscles wanting to stretch, flex themselves bigger. He stagers away, eyes dopey, trying to form coherent thoughts. “Bruce Banner…. I’m me… I can fight it…” his voice was a few notes deeper already, and his voice sounds scratchy and hoarse. Suddenly Bruce falls to his knees, yelling through grinding teeth and a clenched jaw. A wave of hopelessness and overcharging stress crashes over Bruce as Hulk grabs his brain, trying to drag him back into their mind. This all overwhelms Bruce, distracting him from focusing on his grounding his body and calming his heart rate. Bruce cries out as his clave muscles flex out of his purple pants, tearing the fabric. His shoes bulge as the fabric of his shirt bursts around his back, pecs sending buttons flying. Bruce’s green eyes roll up, the feeling of the change is too much, too powerful, His breathing becomes uneven and despite his powerless protest, Bruce is dragged back into the blackness of his mind-space. Hulk wraps both of his arms around Bruce, holding him so snug Bruce can’t even wiggle. Something’s different this time, he’s nude like the Hulk… oh no. “BANNER STRUGGLES AND FIGHTS TO HURT HIMSELF MORE. STUPID PUNY BANNER.” Hulk sounds fully ticked off now. Bruce is completely panicked, wriggling like a worm and gasping out “No!” between labored breaths. “BANNER NEEDS TO CALM DOWN.” Hulk stated in his booming, flat voice. Hulk brings Bruce’s face to his muscular armpits, dripping with sweat. Fresh, manly, raw musk radiates from the wet black wild pit-fur that carpeted the big armpit. Bruce shakes his head in panic, knowing what’s coming next. Bruce’s face is squished against Hulk’s manly armpit, lungs filling with Hulk’s powerful musk. It’s intoxicating and potent, making a thick layer of funk in his nostrils, assaulting his tastebuds with every breath. Hulk holds Bruce there, keeping him still and making him breathe in his strong scent. Bruce feels every inch of Hulks hot, muscular body squishing against his smaller form, the massive pecs hugging his torso, and iron hard abs his legs squirm against. Hulk grips Bruce until the fight leaves his body. It seems like an eternity, but finally he stops struggling against Hulk’s force, now fully ashamed and turned on. Hulk looks at the smaller than average human erection sprouting from Bruce’s thin hips. “HEHE… PUNY.” He chuckles, Bruce can only look down in embarrassment, cheeks cherry red. Hulk looks over his fightless body-mate, happy by the lack of struggle and dejectedness “BANNER READY NOW.” Bruce looks up to Hulk’s brutish face, making eye contact, looking like a sad puppy “Noooo…” he moans out, not consenting, but unable to fight back any more; Bruce felt weak all over, he just wanted it to be over now. Hulk couldn’t care less, now that Banner couldn’t fight any more he could end the distress. Hulk grabs Bruce by his hips and slams him into the ground, his free hand comes to his hanging cock, stroking the huge green floppy snake. Hulk drops to one knee, leaning forward and letting his massive hanging nuts rest against Bruce’s face. “SMELL.” Hulk orders. Bruce whimpers before leaning in and taking a whiff of Hulks nose burning ball musk. “GOOD. BETTER THAN BEING OUTSIDE, RIGHT?” Hulk asks. Bruce looks down again, and chokes back a sob. “Yes… Better than going through the panic attack.” Hulk makes a grumble of cocky happiness and superiority in response. “BANNER REST NOW, LET HULK SMASH OUT ALL THE STRESS.” Bruce doesn’t respond, he just hangs his head and his body quivers. After a minute of stroking Hulk’s massive, over 6 foot tall erection stands tall and proud, hyper in size like all his muscles, drooling thick precum like a river. Bruce looks at the hulking green cock in dread and lust, thicker than the average humans shoulder span and bobbing with Hulk strong heartbeat. “Please don’t… I’ll fade… I’ll let go...” Bruce begs through his quivering breaths. “BANNER TOO TENSE TO LET GO. HULK HELP. HULK GENTLE.” He responds in the regular Hulk monotone. Hulk ungently grabs Bruce’s calves and spreads his legs, humongous cockhead lining up and rubbing against Bruce’s tiny, tight, virgin asshole. Bruce groans in despair, knowing that he won’t just get torn in half, since there’s no rules in the mind-space. Bruce cries out as the huge green monstercock starts to plunge into his ass. Stretching his hole past human limits. The further Hulk presses his hip in the more Bruce becomes his condom, his gut distending as Hulk forces his cock in deeper and deeper. The worst part is, it doesn’t hurt. Bruce can feel all the stretching and his organs being shoved around by the beast inside him, literally. It feels good, warm, completely overwhelming. Every nerve and sense in Bruce’s body is focused on the huge cock using him as a sex toy. Bruce starts to black out and snap back as he feels that massive cock entering his throat. He chokes and gags as it forces itself further up his neck, and with one final gurgle from Bruce’s mouth Hulk humps his cock all the way through, fat cockhead peeking out Bruce’s stretched maw. Precum flows down and pools all over Bruce’s face like he was a decoration under a fountainhead, going down his nose and splashing in his eyes. Bruce was now truly helpless, his thin form bulging and skewered by Hulk’s mighty cock. Bruce was simply overwhelmed, as he always is when he’s in this situation. It’s not the first time he’s been here, exactly like this, and he knows it won’t be the last either. He couldn’t think, only feel as every inch of him is used. He was exhausted, and his body was on fire. The overstimulation finally won over, as Bruce loses focus in his eyes and lets them close. The poor scientist fading into sleep or amnesia, completely overpowered by the Hulk. Hulk smiled and gently patted Bruce’s head, comforting him. It was over, Bruce gave into the blackness and Hulk came to the front of the consciousness. In the real world Bruce’s body was swelling all over. A mighty roar escaped his lips as his muscles started to explode with size, no resistance to the change left in his body. His whole form swells and grows, skin changing from pink to an off-olive. His muscles swell to non-human proportions, sweat dripping all over as growls rip out his throat. Bruce’s face scrunches as his jawline expands, becoming square and brutish, the green in his skin becoming brighter. His forehead grows out, sloping over his eyes as his eyebrows grow thick and caterpillar-like. Nose becoming small and high on his face, giving him Hulk’s signature brute visage. His pants and shirt are ribbons of fabric on the ground, and his underwear finally snap off as his massive balls fatten and distend, cock growing hard and already bigger than any humans. With a wall shaking roar the jade titan finally stands up. Muscle hard as iron, body steaming hot and dripping sweat, thick black body-hair covering Bruce’s once nude pecs, abs, ass, back, legs and arms. His massive cock splashing precum all over. “HULK SMASH PUNY LAB!!!” he roars out in rage, raising his arms above his head and crashing them down against the old, one of a kind machine, completely destroying it and the table it was resting on. Hulk stomps over to the next machine, grunting loudly as he raises a thick leg, stomping the radiation analyzer and cracking the floor under it as the metal snaps and collapses. Hulk was shoulder to wall in the lab, head bumping against the roof. He was cramped and it pissed him off. He stomped his way to the mountain side exit, anything in his path getting crushed, smashed, or demolished. The Hulk finds his way to the iron exit, path of destruction, sweat, and pre behind him and those huge muscular asscheeks, bulging just as big as Hulk’s wings of back muscles. Hulk runs straight at the door, his 18ft monstrous frame breaking through the iron and rock cliff face like it was styrofoam, crumbling down over him, leaving the smashed lab in his wake. Hulk sighed as the wind ran over his bulging, masculine form. Eyes taking in the sunlight and all the mountains and trees. So much room to play, so much stress to relieve. The Hulk smirked, punching a towering cedar tree near the lab entrance, watching it crumble and fall under the force of his fist. His hard dick throbbed at the display of super strength. He looked back to all the trees and the span of tall mountains. So much… SO MUCH TO SMASH!!! Hulk flexed his meaty thighs before launching into the air, aiming to crash down on the nearest mountain peak with an incredible shoulder smash. Fin.
  6. Ozymandias

    m/m Entelechy (Part 2 added 20/10)

    Hi all, here's the first part of my second story: Entelechy. It's quite different from my first, Control; this story is set in futuristic universe. I won't spoil the details, but suffice it to say that I have conceived of the world in this story as a realistic future for humanity. It'll have plenty of growth, muscle worship and all that lovely stuff, alongside plenty of exploration of the psychology of muscle addiction, but some of the exposition is also designed to be thought-provoking about society, politics and what the future may hold. If you're more interested in the muscle, then fear not - you won't be disappointed! But if you like to be challenged, this story will have a little bit extra for you. Part 1 doesn't have much growth; it's largely outlining our main character. But there will be a hell of a lot of muscle to come, I can tell you that. Entelechy: a word used by Aristotle, 'the state of something that is fully realised'. ---- Entelechy: Part 1 He stood amongst the heaving crowd, almost suffocated by the thronging masses. Blessed with neither notable height nor width, the Youth struggled to get a glimpse of the public screen. There was a ripple through the crowd; a fortunate shift in its arrangement afforded him an unbroken line of sight to watch the spectacle unfold. The screen - an anachronism, since it was actually a one-dimensional holographic projection - showed the Emperor seated upon the Eternal Throne. Clad in his usual impenetrable attire (mask, robes and cloak of black and red), he contrasted with the white, gold and ocean blue of the Throne. A ceremonial guard of Imperial Guardsmen, great staves held straight, lined the gilded walkway leading to the Throne. A number of attendants - various High Councillors and military officials - were clustered around the Throne. The crowd held its breath as the camera panned to show the great entrance doors to the Throne Room, which silently slid open to reveal an alien, surrounded by five Guardsmen arranged in a pentagon around him. The alien looked somewhat reptilian, dressed in fine armour...but the splendour did not conceal the humiliation readable in its posture. “And there he is,” continued the commentator, “Val’syth, Sovereign of the now-subjugated Farith Empire, come to pay homage to our Immortal Emperor.” The people around the Youth jeered at the defeated alien monarch, as his party walked towards the Throne. The camera panned behind them, showing the alien trudging towards the Emperor, who sat unmoved and impassive. The Guardsmen, and the alien, came to a halt at the base of the dais upon which the Throne sat. Two Guardsmen then tore off Val’syth’s ornate armour, throwing it to the floor, followed by his undergarments. In mere moments he stood naked before the Emperor. The crowd’s jeering came to a tense tense halt as they watched the defeated alien stand motionless...before erupting into jubilant cheers as he prostrated himself before the Emperor, forehead touching the cold metal floor. “And there’s the proskynesis, the ceremonial submission before the Emperor,” resumed the commentator. “The act symbolises...” He zoned out the both commentator and the cheers. He did belong amongst these mindless automatons who went about their life. He was different. He couldn’t quite place how, only that he was. He did not fit in the Grand Society; its norms and expectations were…restrictive to him. He would not - could not - conform. Instead, he would leave them all in the dust, revelling in his excess. Let the rebellion begin, he thought to himself. *** He had never felt like he belonged. Not quite ostracised from the Society, but not quite part of it either. In creating the Society three centuries ago, the Emperor had adopted an effective organising framework: within set boundaries, you were free to do what you wished - but cross those boundaries, and the Society exiled you. Moderation was the ruling tenet: most ‘vices’ were acceptable, in moderation. Sex, drink, food, drugs, partying; as long as you kept the habits under control, it was not the Society’s concern. But indulge them to excess, and the Society would quickly sanction you. Assuming the legal order of the Society didn’t formally intervene to redeem you, that is. But that moderation did not appeal to him. It was stale, lifeless - mass-produced. Moderation was easy, and boring. Where was the joy in moderation? Throughout his teenage years, this internal conflict had grown and festered, eventually crystallising into a need to break free, to rebel. His first act upon completing school had been to leave his home city of Copenhagen, crossing the sea to the much-larger Capital - the Eternal City. With a population of 25 million, it was the largest city on Terra. Surely he’d find ways to rebel there? The Society quickly provided him with an apartment (all housing was state-provided, of course), and he’d settled in, but then things had...stalled. Wanting to rebel was all well and good, but how does one go about actually doing it? He’d tried the Lower City, where all the ‘cultural establishments’ were. It had been fun at first, immersing himself in the permanent carnival-atmosphere of the clubs and bars, but it soon became clear that they too all worshipped at the altar of Moderation. He could have over-indulged in drink, drugs and sex but that was not rebellion - that was self-destruction and would achieve nothing. No, he had to be more subtle in his rebellion - and thus pose a far greater challenge to the Society. Undermine the tenet of Moderation, and be revered for it. Excess. But again: how? Within weeks of arriving he felt as lost as ever, his ‘rebellion’ failing before it could even get started. It was depressing. He felt lonely and dejected. Perhaps this rebellion had, afterall, been a stupid idea borne of an immature mind. He could’ve got a job, perhaps (almost all menial or simple work was done by robots, but there were still plenty of jobs where a human touch was liked), but he felt no need to; the Basic Income more than covered his needs. Thus it was that the Youth found himself wandering into a new establishment he had not yet visited, seeking inspiration. He was startled to realise he’d stumbled into a male orgy club, decorated like a Classical symposium: low couches and tables, carved stone columns and walls decorated with reliefs. A statue of Apollo and Hyacinthus, their hands intertwined, stood in the centre. He could make out another floor above. The patrons, in varying degrees of intoxication, were engaging in passionate group sex on the sumptuous couches. He walked through the establishment, studying the men he passed. All conventionally attractive and identically built in the Society’s ideal: athletic and toned, but not muscular or ponderous. Lithe, graceful: a useful body. The Youth himself had such a body. Some of the older men were more saggy, but still fit. This was, of course, simply the old Classical ideal...as part of the Society’s construction, many of the values and ideas of the Ancients had been studiously revived and systematically applied. None of the men interested him. It was not that they were unattractive, but rather they screamed moderation. There was nothing deviant about them; body, hairstyles, clothes (where worn). Even this orgy was moderation; he doubted any of the patrons attended more than a couple of times a month. Everywhere was order; the establishment was a Temple to Self-Control. Credit to the Emperor, the Youth thought. His Society works. Further into the establishment, there were numerous warmly-lit alcoves for more intimate encounters. They were likewise filled with oh-so-boring Servants of Moderation. He had just about given up hope of finding any trace deviance when he glanced into the final alcove. His breath caught in his throat and his stomach fluttered. At last. Seated in the alcove was the biggest man the Youth has ever seen. Not in terms of height (he was ordinary in that regard), but of width. Of mass. Of muscle. His body hung heavy with bulging muscle; he was no longer athletic. No, most of that muscle was useless. An obstacle to human grace. It was instead the body of excess. A Servant of Moderation straddled the man’s crotch, taking his manhood inside of him, while he ravenously devoured the man’s flexed arm, savouring the swollen muscles with lips and tongue. The man’s head was thrown back in pleasure, eyes closed, softly moaning. The Youth was rooted to the spot as a curious rush flowed through his mind. It was as if the disparate pieces of a previously hidden jigsaw puzzle had suddenly come together, inspired by the man of excess before him. In an instant, the fog cleared and his path became clear. The man of excess had shown him the way to rebel - how to subvert the Society. The next morning, he changed his gym routine.
  7. LinkX

    muscle-growth If the Shoe Fits.

    Pardon the tags... what I've written so far is mostly set up at the moment. I'd like to get some constructive feedback before I continue. Please refrain from calling out my punctuation mistakes. Otherwise let me know if I should continue. I understand that so far this plot has been done like a million different times...but honestly nowadays what plot hasn't? Hopefully you can find something unique to my story. Please let me know what you think. Also apologies for the chapters being so short...it looks longer on Microsoft. Chapter 1 I pulled into my driveway and pushed the clicker on my garage opener. As the door slowly slid open I couldn’t help but crack a smile. Suddenly a rough day at work didn’t seem so terrible. My boyfriend of eight years was finally home after a two month work assignment back east. After shutting down the car and grabbing my gym bag I opened the door to my house… and the lights were off. Of course. I could hear the sounds of battle coming from upstairs. I don’t know why I expected him to be waiting for me by the door when I got home… he’s an avid player of this sword and magic computer game he plays with his friends, and the game released an expansion three days before he got home. Of course he didn’t have his gaming computer with him so he had to wait… which I know drove him nuts. I set my bag down by the washing machine and trudged up the stairs to our bedroom. I guided myself by the light blue light coming from my partner’s computer screen in the bedroom. I entered the room quietly. His back was to me and he had his headset on. He was frantically pushing buttons and shouting commands into his mic. “Stack! Stack! Over here…. Ok fast rez this pug over here… never mind we’ll get him later. Drop your A O E and push!” I still can’t translate all his gamer jargon. I waited a couple minutes while he finished his fight. Before he could find a new bad guy to go destroy I turned the lights on. Startled, he quickly turned to face me. His face lit up. Then he turned back to his screen. “Sorry guys, I have to go, Frizzle can you command? Thanks, see ya.” He shut down his game, tossed his headset down, and then proceeded to jump right into my arms. “Oh my god, I missed you so much… my family is terrible!” he exclaimed between kisses. “I missed you too babe,” I replied. “Looks like you managed to find some shopping at least.” He pulled back from our embrace and gave me his goofy smile. God I loved him so much. I set him down so he could parade what he got. “Yeah… so you won’t believe this,” he said excitedly. “I went to this specialty big and tall store and found these!” He pointed to his feet. He was wearing an enormous pair of sneakers. They were at least a few sizes larger than my own size 15 shoes. “check ‘em out… size 20! I never thought I’d find a store that carried them!” I laughed. “You could always try Amazon you know.” Still smiling, he quickly shot me that not-amused look that I knew all too well. “You can’t see them in real life on Amazon before you buy them,” he said pointedly. “You know I like to shop for shoes.” Still laughing I shot back “yeah, well you have no problem special ordering other clothes online.” He reached up and lightly tapped me on the chest. “That’s different… Speaking of which, I got a package today that had this in it,” he said, pointing to the oversized muscle-tank he looked like he was practically drowning in. “Oh, and these.” He lifted up his shirt revealing a pair of workout shorts that looked like pants on him, and untied the waist. The large shorts fell to the floor revealing a jockstrap with a gigantic pouch. The straps hung loosely around his legs and the waist was tied to hold it on his body. He was excited, in more than one way, but of course his thin 5.5 inch cock didn’t fill the giant pouch he had literally tied around his waist. He looked back up at me grinning ear to ear. At that moment he reminded me of a puppy that knew he had done well and was waiting for a treat. “Damn dude!” I told him, playing to his fantasy. “You’re gonna be huge when you grow into those!” “Damn right!” he shot back, smiling. I knew full well there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever fit those clothes. I’ve heard of people gaining an extra inch or two of height in their early to mid-twenties… but at 30 years old, even if by some miracle he had a growth spurt, there was no way my 5’4”, 130 lb stud with a size 8 shoe would fill this outfit out. Still, I entertained his fantasy because I love him. As long as I’ve known him he’s been fascinated with everything big. Big height, big muscle, big cock. That’s his motto. That’s why he fell for me so quickly. At 6’5” I’m a tall drink of water, and I’m pretty proud of my bodybuilder physique (it’s so much tougher for us tall guys). With those two traits when he first saw me he went weak in the knees... but when I got him home and he got his eyes on my thick 8.5” piece of meat deal was done. He decided right then and there he was gonna keep me. I must have zoned out just thinking about how I met my man, and how much I loved him and all his quirks all these years later. Because next thing I knew he was waving at me: “Hey…hey… earth to Aaron. Are you going to stand there and stare at me all evening? I love you, but I haven’t had sex in two months. I need your ass.” As was typical when he was wearing his bigger clothes he was the top that night. Chapter 2 He really was a horny little bastard. He shot 4 loads before pulling out, and then still got a fifth off all over my face before collapsing next to me. He leaned over to the nightstand and handed me a rag. “That’s gonna feel so much better when I’m bigger,” he said nonchalantly--still coming down off his orgasm. “I’m gonna open you up like you do me…and it’s going to be awesome when I go to the gym. I’ll walk around the locker room naked with my dick swinging back and forth and everyone will want it. I’ll be buff with pecs like yours and people will ask to feel my arms too. It’ll be awesome to have you be the little spoon for once.” “I can be your little spoon now,” I reassured him. He laughed. “Haha…yeah…but no. I mean I like holding you… but I can’t sleep like that, you’re too wide I can’t reach all the way around you like I’d like to yet. I want to be able to hold you like you hold me.” “But when you’re big, how am I going to keep the other guys off you? Who’s to say that you won’t find a guy that likes your size as much as you like mine? You might not want to keep me then” I teased. He sat up and looked me in the eye: “Aaron, you’re like a shoe that fits me perfectly… I’ll never outgrow you.” He stated seriously. “A shoe? Seriously?” I scolded playfully. “Patrick… I love you but you’re a dork.” I rolled out of bed. “All right big guy, let’s shower and get to bed… you’ve got to be jetlagged.” Chapter 3 The next few weeks went by fairly routinely. That is until one Saturday morning while I was cooking breakfast Patrick shouted down from the bedroom, “Aaron, Aaron come quick!” I hurried up the stairs to see what was the matter. Patrick was absent mindedly stroking his cock with one hand while scrolling down a browser with the other. “What’s up?” I asked. “You’ve got to read this” was his reply. I began scanning the screen. It was the results of a two year research study investigating a compound that was supposed to interact with the endocrine system, inducing height and muscular changes. “This is it… I’m finally going to get big!” Patrick exclaimed. “Wait…what?” I stuttered, trying to run through the page before he got too far ahead of me. “I finally found what I need to get big like you! I told you! I told you I’m gonna get huge like you!” I finished reading the synopsis. “Hold on a sec, guy… this says the study was discontinued early because the compound didn’t have an effect on enough participants. It’s been 3 years. Even then the best case scenario is an “increase of 1-3 inches in height as well as increased musculature, penis size and rigidity”. I quoted. “Honey, you can’t get more rigid… and is 1-3 inches worth any risk?” “Like you said, it’s been 3 years, I’m sure they’ve done more research,” he countered quickly, “and yes…1-3” would be worth it.” He gazed into my eyes with such sincerity and need that I quickly gave in. “If you think it’s what you need to do I’m with you 110%... remember though its 4 injections over the course of a year, so it’s not like you can change your mind.” I said. “I’ll think about it… but I won’t change my mind. I promise.” Chapter 4 Over the next several days I became concerned. Each night when I got home from work Patrick would be upstairs on his computer. Though instead of the usual video game chatter. I’d arrive to silence. I’d wander upstairs, and Patrick would be sprawled out by his desk, head phones in, scrawling through page after page of research. He sit there in his size 20 sneakers and oversized jock, every once in a while moving enough to make a bookmark, and every few hours I’d make him stop and walk downstairs to either eat or get some water. Or anything really…just something to let me know he was still alive. One night I was sitting downstairs watching the latest episode of Gotham when he came downstairs and sat beside me. He snuggled up next to me and after a few minutes simply said “I’m ready.” Patrick managed to book an initial intake appointment a few weeks later. He was nervous, and asked that I go with him. We drove from the suburbs to the address provided, which turned out to be an historic tire warehouse building that had been converted into a laboratory. The outside didn’t look too impressive. Just faded signs painted on the walls probably 80 years ago, a Starbucks on the ground floor, and two purposefully rusty-looking doors with a buzzer and keypad to the right of them. I pressed the buzzer and a voice quickly answered, asking Patrick to confirm his appointment. He did and the door clicked allowing us entry. The interior of the building was markedly different from the outside. It was very brightly lit. Very sterile looking. At the center of the room was a large white circular desk. A young twinkish man who looked like he was maybe a freshman in college sat at the desk. As we approached the desk he checked us both out. Very obviously. He smirked at Patrick, then glanced me over and then fumbled with some paperwork on his desk as we got near. “Hello,” he said. “You must be Patrick. Thank you for coming. Dr. Stevens will be with you shortly.” He turned to me. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name, and I don’t see another appointment at this time.” “Oh no, I’m just here with him,” I replied. The twink gave us a knowing look. “Oh ok, that’s cool. Make yourself comfortable. We have a few chairs and some reading material. Do you need anything to drink?” “Not at the moment. Thank you,” I responded. Patrick finished his questionnaire and we sat down. A few minutes later I saw a man with a clipboard walk down the stairs. He was about 6’2”, with a nice athletic build and short, jet black hair. He was wearing a blue button down shirt and black denim jeans. “Howdy… Patrick?” he asked. Patrick looked up from the fitness magazine he had started to read. Introductions were made and the doctor invited us upstairs. Chapter 5 Dr. Stevens’s office was fairly nondescript. It consisted of a large oak desk, a couple chairs, a computer, a lamp, and a large bookcase full of books and knickknacks. In the center of the bookcase was an urn, next to the urn sat a tiny little barbell and a photo of a child in a wheelchair. I couldn’t tell you the kid’s age. His head too large for his body, which seemed to have little to no musculature at all. He was short, though his hands looked large. Despite all this I couldn’t help but be entertained by the kid’s beaming smile. Whoever was taking the photo obviously meant the world to this young man and you couldn’t look at this photo without seeing it in his expression. “mgm-hmm,” Dr. Stevens coughed. We all took a seat around the desk. “My secretary says you’re quite persistant, Mr.” “Patrick,” my boyfriend chimed in, “and this is my partner Aaron.” “Nice to meet you both, so what can I help you with.” Patrick looked at me for reassurance. I gave him a nod, and he began grinning ear to ear and scooted to the edge of his seat. This seemed to make the doctor uncomfortable for a moment as he shifted in his chair and shot a glance to the urn on his bookshelf. “Sir, three years ago you lead a study on the effects of a certain compound on the endocrine system,” Patrick started. “That study ended early,” the doctor interrupted. “The compound was deemed ineffective on human systems.” Patrick’s grin faded. “Yes, but it wasn’t…” “Wasn’t what?” The doctor was obviously agitated. “If you’d done your research you would have realized that the compound you speak of was only effective in less than 1% of the sample. Even then the effects were insufficient for continued funding. I’m a busy man, do you have a reason for hounding my assistant for days to get an appointment or did you just want me to read the conclusion of my paper for you?” Feeling intimidated, Patrick slouched back into his chair momentarily before standing up and walking towards the door. He was doing his best to fight back tears. I stood to join him, my heart felt heavy looking at my lover’s dejected demeanor. I could see his hope…his dream… falling to pieces in front of me. “It wasn’t a failure,” I said softly while looking straight at Patrick. “You had results. Sure, they weren’t as much as hoped for… but they were results. My partner…my boyfriend…has taken time off work, and has driven over 50 miles for an hour of your time. Sure, it’s a long shot. But from where he’s standing it’s his best shot of attaining the one thing he’s wanted for as long as he could breathe. The entire reason we’re here-- the reason he’s blown up your secretary’s phone and email. Is because he wants… he needs… to explore this opportunity.” Patrick wiped a tear from his cheek, his eyes lit up. He had his fire back. “Sir,” he stated. “Aaron’s right. The study wasn’t a failure. Please give me a chance. Even if it’s a small chance” He looked the doctor squarely in the eye. He spoke with sincerity. With need. “Someday I’m going to be big… like you and Aaron. I know it. I just need help getting there. Please help me.” Dr. Stevens didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. He stared at Patrick as though he’d seen a ghost. Finally he began fiddling with a pen. Squeezing it until his knuckles turned white then releasing it, over and over. He stood up and walked over to the bookcase. Standing in front of the urn with his back to us he finally spoke: “You don’t just stop and start studies willy-nilly. That’s not how professional research works,” he began. “But?” Patrick said quietly. “But,” the doctor turned, “my research has never really stopped to be honest. No, I don’t have any current “subjects” or “trials”, but the scientist in me still looks for the answers I know are out there. I didn’t have enough subjects to truly test out the compound I developed, and funding dried up. My old company blamed faulty research, but it wasn’t. The formula is just very specific. It only affects a fraction of a fraction of the human population—and I have developed a hypothesis that that’s because it affects a specific hormonal genetic marker that only one in several million people have. I don’t have the resources I’d need to prove or disprove that any longer.” “What happens if you get the injection and you don’t have the marker,” I asked. “Nothing,” the doctor sighed. “If it doesn’t work, you may as well have been injected with saline.” “Do… do you still have access to your old formula?” Patrick asked carefully. The doctor looked at him skeptically. “I do.” “Then may I try it?” He continued quickly, “If it doesn’t work, we’ve lost nothing. If it does, we have everything to gain. I’ll sign whatever legal papers I need to absolve you of any liability. I’ll pay you. Please. What can I offer to get your help? I'll do anything.” The pleading look in his eyes spoke louder than words. The doctor sat back down and put his head between his hands. After a few moments he looked up. “I may very well lose my license over this, but I’ll do it. You remind me so much of my brother I’d be ashamed if I said no.” Patrick was so excited his legs gave out. As he sunk to his knees tears streamed down his face. I hurried over to hold him. I’d never seen him so excited. He was shaking. “Oh my god… oh my god,” he kept repeated. “It’s gonna happen! It’s finally gonna happen!” Dr. Stevens took some Kleenex out of his desk drawer. He then picked up the phone and told his assistant to clear his schedule for the evening. He took a couple and handed them to us. He gave us a few minutes for Patrick to collect himself before speaking again. “Ada…I mean Patrick. Now since I’ve agreed to assist you and provide you with the compound, we need to discuss terms. We are going to approach this scientifically. Before we administer the first injection, I need to have you sign some disclosure and consent forms. Also, I want to run a full blood work up on you. I’m certain you won’t be allergic to the formula, I’d just like to have a baseline for your hormone levels. Also, I’m going to need to run a complete physical—including height, weight, musculature, and sexual function. Once that’s complete I can administer the injection. If you react, you should begin to notice some changes within the next three to four days. I ask that you email me if you feel any changes. In the meantime, I will provide you with a diet and exercise plan that you must follow daily. We will schedule a follow up appointment one week from today. If you’re not reacting to the formula no need to come in. If you do have a reaction we will continue to the next phase. Keep in mind that once you receive the injection it’s irreversible.” Patrick looked at me once again for approval. I nodded. “I understand,” Patrick said. “How much do I owe you?” Dr. Stephens smiled. “We’re going to do this right. For this first visit there will be no payment. If you react to the formula, each week I will provide to you a stipend to cover the full cost of anything study related.” “I thought you didn’t have funding.” I said, stunned by his generous offer. “The one exception I’m making for this project is that this particular trial will be paid out of a very special trust fund, if it should be successful” the doctor replied, again glancing at the urn. “Thank you sir,” Patrick said. “Where do I sign?”
  8. hoola

    growth Don't Stop: Parts 8+9

    Hey everyone, sorry again for the delay, but work is crazy. Anyway, enjoy! Parts 1+2+3: https://muscle-growt...stop-parts-1-3/ Parts 4+5: https://muscle-growt...-stop-parts-45/ Parts 6+7: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7460-dont-stop-parts-67/ PART 8: The next morning began as the previous few mornings had for Andrew. He woke up, noticed he had a huge raging erection, and went to the bathroom to take care of it. This morning, he was happily surprised to once again find that he had changed dramatically since the day before. He had a really full beard now. It was luscious, thick and was already about a quarter inch long in most places. He looked like he was well on his way to becoming a lumberjack in just a day or two. However, even under the layers of facial hair he could tell that his face was more angular and cut than before. Continuing down his body, he could see tufts of chest hair poking out of the top of his shirt. Quickly tearing off his shirt he found a veritable forest of chest hair leading to a dense covering of hair on his new eight pack abs. He could tell that his legs were much hairier too now. “I must be the hairiest Asian on campus now,” Andrew though proudly. By the increased hair wasn’t the only change Andrew found. It appeared to him that his workout had paid off handsomely because he was not only ripped, he was enormous. He was at least six feet tall now with huge tree trunks for legs. He could see massive calf muscles pushing out from his lower leg in a perfect diamond cut formation. Above them were huge quads and hamstrings that had gotten so big there was no longer a gap between his legs. His muscles were so big that they made his legs touch each other while standing up normally. Another effect of his massive quads was that his dick and balls were pushed a little bit out from his body making them look even larger than they already were. His cock had to be at least eight or nine inches long (confirmed to be 8.75 inches by Andrew’s handy ruler) and was as hard as steel. His balls meanwhile were each as large as a tangerine and churning with huge loads of semen. He needed to ejaculate soon or else they would swell so much it would start being painful. As much as he wanted to get off on his new physique, there were still areas of his body that he had not explored yet. His abs were like a cobblestone path carved into his stomach, and flexing them and unflexing them made Andrew realize that he could easily stop a gut punch with his abs of iron easily. His pecs looked absolutely swollen with new muscle. The massive fleshy pillows were so big now that his nipples hung straight down. He looked like he could bench press 400lbs easily now. However, despite all of his other fantastic muscles, the greatest was yet to come. His arms looked like they were at least 20 inches around now. Crazy veins snaked their way lazily across the top of his massive peaked biceps while his triceps hung pendulously from the back of his upper arms. His forearms were huge too (probably from jerking off so much). All in all, Andrew looked like a professional bodybuilder, and right then and there he vowed to enter a competition as soon as possible. However, Andrew was becoming a little nervous now. His body was really fucking amazing, but he was worried he was losing sight of what had truly mattered to him. He hadn’t gone to class at all the previous day and instead had spent his time furiously masturbating, working out, and having a marathon of sex with Nicole. The more he thought about his situation though, the more he realized that he liked what he had become, what he was becoming, and what he was about to become. His muscles were so sexy and powerful he felt like he could do whatever he wanted. So, he went back to the bedroom, erection swinging straight out from his body, gently woke Nicole up, and started having the best sex of his life. After his third orgasm in as many minutes, Andrew rolled off of Nicole and noticed that her chap stick had fallen out of her bag. “Hmm, I don’t recognize this brand,” Andrew thought as he put on some of the chap stick on his lips. He noticed a weird tingly feeling on his lips after the application, but he chalked it up to it being an intense mint flavor. He absentmindedly pocketed the chap stick before heading out to class. PART 9: Andrew found that his mouth was getting really dry during class all day. He couldn’t stop staring at all of the hot girls who would have been way far out of his league the previous week, but now were well within reach. He felt tormented by these adulterous thoughts, but the girls were hooked on his new physique. They would blow him little kisses and wink seductively at him, and in response to his rapidly drying mouth he would put on chapstick at least twice every hour. None of this was helping get rid of the erection he had maintained all day since having tantric sex with Nicole that morning. He felt the urge to sneak off the bathroom between every class to masturbate, and even struggled to limit himself to one orgasm. Finally he was done with classes for the day, so he ran to the gym as fast as he could. He could feel his thighs chaffing against each other a little bit as his legs swelled with blood, getting pumped and swollen from just a few short minutes of cardio. As soon as he was done changing in the locker room (where all of the guys were amazed by Andrew’s flaccid dick which was longer than almost all of their dicks hard), he hit the weights. Something immediately felt different to Andrew. As soon as he began his first bench press he could feel an intensity in his entire body that filled him with euphoria. His now 9.5 inch cock instantly hardened and lengthened a bit more filling the front of his gym shorts with an obscene bulge. Every lift he did filled him with euphoria and made him feel like he was about to burst through his own skin. He could feel his muscle growing with each curl, each squat, each press. He didn’t know what he was doing anymore except that it felt fucking incredible and that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. A sizeable crowd had gathered around him including several of the girls and guys who had been eying his physique all day long. They couldn’t take their eyes off of his bulge and bulging muscles, and a few were becoming noticeably aroused right there in the middle of the weight room. Eventually one of them, a cute black girl sauntered up to Andrew and sat on his lap as he was bench pressing. His dick instantly went into overdrive as he shot load after load into his gym pants. He never stopped lifting during his orgasm, and the crowd gasped as they notices his pecs and arms swell larger and larger with each rep and cum shot. Just as he was about to stop shooting his tank top ripped right off his chest as his confined pecs burst through the fabric. Andrew was an animal. He knew that he loved Nicole, but his sex drive was amped up way too high to ignore all of his waiting admirers. He picked the black girl off of his lap and carried her on his shoulders to the private shower stalls where he fucked her brains out. Andrew was becoming more and more aware of the fact that something weird was happening to his body, but so far all he had surmised was that each time he came he would get bigger, and not just his muscles. He could feel his dick expanding with each orgasm. It wasn’t much each time, but with the way he had been cumming the past few days, he was on his way to having the biggest dick of all time. He didn’t want this growth to ever stop.
  9. Hialmar

    m/m The Orgone Accumulator : Part Six

    The Prologue is found here The preceeding chapter is found here. Preface The song lyrics The times they are a-changin' were written by Bob Dylan in 1964, which is hereby acknowledged. The use of quotes thereof in this story is for non-profit literary purposes, in the belief that this is fair use. Please let me know, if anyone want these quotes to be removed. The Orgone Accumulator: Part Six "I really appreciate, how therapy dissolves the feelings of guilt and shame, Dr. Witt, but I don't think Reich was right, when he expected homosexual men to eventually become heterosexual." "Perhaps he wasn't. Some German psychologists suggested already in the 1860s, that the homosexual condition is a permanent personality trait, even to such extent, that it is possible to talk about a third sex: Uranian men with female souls. Would you think, that that describes your personality?" He felt slightly irritated. At some times Dr. Witt sounded very much as a man of an elder age. No, he wouldn't think, that that described his personality. He might have been shy and guilt-ridden when he was a teenager (and when he began his analysis by Dr. Witt), but he didn't feel like a female soul. Neither was he attracted to camp men -- he had encountered a few camp men of his own age in San Francisco recently, and, although many of them were fun and witty, he didn't fall in love with them. How would he describe this, without Dr. Witt beginning predictable tirades about repression? "To be honest, I don't think it does. Aren't there any other possible explanations? Dr. Witt fell silent, and it took some time before he continued: "I've had the impression for some time now, that I don't know how to help you further, but Dr. Silberstein find some un-orthodox explanations useful. I am not trained in those methods. Would you dislike to begin analysis with Dr. Silberstein instead?" Silberstein had arrived to The Foundation very recently, with a fresh degree and with diplomas from several different schools of psychology. He wasn't much older than The Young Man, preferred to wear suits of a very modern cut and with a hair-style resembling the Osmond family. Perhaps it was worth it to change. "No, I would be very grateful if I was allowed to continue my self-exploration with Dr. Silberstein, but I am very grateful for the help you have given me these years." When he returned home to his cottage, he switched his transistor radio on: * * * He had eventually found an athletic facility in a smaller town located between San Francisco and the countryside where The Foundation was located, and he went there three times a week. It had begun as a boxing-club, but in the recent years it had gradually changed more and more into the emerging new sort of "gym", as they were called. The use of dumbbells, barbells and cable stands had revolutionised his physical exercise. He was ever learning more about new exercises. Muscles he hadn't known existed had begun to form, grow and become visible all over his body. It had also increased his appetite. Those nights he chose to eat at The Foundation the kitchen staff were joking about his ability to eat unexpectedly large amounts of food. He assumed, that all other men at that athletic facility were hetero. It gave him some smug satisfaction, that he was able to lift heavier than some of them. Heavier than them. Stronger than them. Beginning to look more like the imaginary men in the beefcake drawings. The imaginary men had been ideals to lust for. Be attracted to. To be overwhelmed by. But now something else was happening: He was becoming one of them. One of Tom's men. It didn't take much time until he lost his patience with the rusty used car he had bought when he moved to The Foundation. Everyone owned a car. He wanted to be himself. He wanted a motorcycle. As soon as he could afford a motor cycle he bought one: A black shiny motor cycle: A symbol of liberty. A black shiny leather jacket was already a part of of his leisurewear, and rumour had it, that it had caused some gossip among middle-class and upper-class guests: Let them gossip! He was becoming himself. It was evening and his day off. He returned home to his cottage after one of his usual trips. His muscles were still warm and filled with blood after his weight-training. He switched the radio on. Something about the Soviet troops in Czechoslovakia and President Johnson's reply to recent international developments. He felt so alive. Earlier that day, he had found a retailer selling and repairing leatherwear. He liked the scent inside the shop. He had found trousers in his size, but he had a nagging thought in his head, that there was a risk, that they soon would become too small, if his thighs continued to grow in the same pace. He had also found a pair of shiny boots suitable for those who ride motorbikes. He had arrived at his athletic facility wearing his new biker wear. It gave him some satisfaction to take the gazes from the other men in the locker room in: Puzzlement, respect, perhaps some awe and some fear, too. He lapped it up. Something similar happened, when he returned to the locker room after his exercise and changed from his sweat-drenched training clothes back into his leathers. Then he ride home on his motorbike, and felt the wind rush around him. The enticing feeling of speed. Then his thoughts wandered to the Orgone Accumulator. The Orgone Accumulator was a part of Reichian treatment, but its usefulness was a matter of discussion among the guests as well as the staff. The first time The Young Man entered an Orgone Accumulator, it had been a slightly underwhelming experience. It looked like a wooden wardrobe with a seat inside. He was told, that it was constructed of alternating plates of wood and metal, which were supposed to accumulate his bodily Orgone, which was named after the human orgasm. He was supposed to sit inside wearing a thin layer of clothes of natural fibres, but some enthusiasts shocked the other guests by suggesting, that full nakedness would be more efficient. Did he feel anything? Well, yes. The inside of the box felt slightly warmer than the surrounding room, and he thought he felt some sort of pleasurable tickling feeling in his skin, but it could have been his imagination running wild. Since he moved to his cottage at the Foundation premises, he had undergone Orgone treatment once a month, and although some treatments had been pleasant in some vaguely undefinable way, he wasn't sure if it really added anything substantial to the analysis sessions and the massage. He enjoyed the massage. The new masseur, Jack, was a man his own age, and they were slowly becoming friends. But now his thoughts wandered to the Orgone Accumulator. No-one was scheduled for it this late in the night. Most guests and staff were probably asleep. With a sandwich in one hand and a glass of orange juice in his other hand, he decided to give the Orgone Accumulator another try. He finished his meal. He had removed his t-shirt, because it was damp of sweat, and he was too lazy to wear it. He took his leather jacket, wearing it without anything under, and walked over the grass to the main building in the moonlit night, dew causing his boots to become wet. The Orgone Accumulator. There it was. The lights in the room switched off, and the treatment floor abandoned for the night. Moonshine entered the windows, and formed a pattern of silver-light on the floor. He left his jacket on a chair, and entered the Accumulator wearing his new leather trousers and boots. With the door closed, the Orgone Accumulator was entirely dark. Sometimes he had noticed what looked like a dim light form around his body during treatment. It could have been his retina being exhausted. Or it could be a proof of the existence of Orgone. He didn't expect much. He felt calm and relaxed sitting there in the darkness, his boots on the wooden floor, his leather-clad legs wide apart, and his upper body naked inside the moderately warm box. The hair on his arms were bristling. His skin began to tingle pleasantly. The scent of his new trousers and boots filled the Orgone Accumulator. He enjoyed that scent. He enjoyed the smooth and glossy surface of his leather trousers. Leather -- reminding him of primordial hunters triumphing over game, using its hide for clothes. His muscles were still warm, firm and blood-filled after the exercise. He clenched his right biceps with his left hand. Warm. Firm. And Blood-filled. He clenched his right pectoral muscle. Warm. Firm. And Blood-filled. It wasn't the only part of him becoming warm, firm and blood-filled. His dick throbbed inside his new trousers, rubbing itself against the leather. Glossy. Black. Rubbing itself. His now muscular legs enclosed by black, glossy leather. His now sexy bum enclosed by black, glossy leather. New boots hugging his feet. He remembered how the other men had watched him. Their gazes. He felt so present, so bodily present. Embodied. Relaxed in his body, in a way he wasn't in the past. Calm and relaxed. Skin tingling. Dick throbbing. Warm, firm muscles. So hard. Hard everywhere. Hard dick. Hard mind. Hard body. Hard muscles. Leg-muscles hugged by black, glossy leather. Manhood. He wanted other men to be attracted to him. Lust for him. Be overwhelmed by him. Him: The muscleman in leather, the unknown biker. Feeling so alive. So free. Alive. The memory of his colleague Jack, the masseur floated through his memory. Jack's kind eyes. Jack's powerful arms. The physical sensations of his body caused the mental image of Jack to fade. Strength flowing through his veins. Strength flowing through his muscles. Strength flowing through his dick. Manhood. Embodied. Present. Powerful. His power to change himself. Changing. Becoming his dreams. Becoming others' dreams. So big and hard now. The Strength. So alive. The Power. Skin tingling more now. Muscles buzzing more now. Of Strength. Of Power. Alive. His entire physical extension. Full of Strength. And Power. And Hardness. Tingling. Buzzing. The wave of energy inside his entire being. His veins afire of Pleasure. His mind connected to a cosmic grid of golden light and red mists inside his eyelids. Cosmic grid of Strength. Cosmic grid of Power. Buzzing. Wave. Uh! Yes! Himself so buzzing of Power, brimming of Power. The Wave intensifying. Throbbing. His entire body throbbing. His entire Self throbbing. Throbbing of the Powerwave. Powerwave. Even more! Yes! Powerwave. He is Muscle now. He is Strength now. He is Manhood now. He is Power now. He is ... Uh! The Wave! So good! Hadn't thought ... Never had experienced ... The Orgone? It's true! The Orgone! Filling himself with Orgone! More Orgone! Becoming Orgone! The Wave! The Wave! Uh! Oh God, it's ... It's ... Power. Becoming. It's ... It's ... Wave ... Uh ... STRENGTH STRENGTH MANHOOD STRENGTH POWER STRENGTH WAVE STRENGTH WAVE blissful WAVE blissful WAVE blissf ... WAVE WAVE WA- !!! !!! !!! !!! !!!
  10. Florida20

    m/m Super Soldier (Chapter 8)

    Chapter 1 Chapter 2-4 Chapter 5-6 Chapter 7 CHAPTER 8 The sun well below its peak but already scalded the desert below. Sweat had long ago soaked through Lewis's skin-tight green shirt and his muscles stood out in bold relief through the fabric. He grunted as he bent over and picked up a thirty pound sand bag from the pile at his feet. After placing it on his free forearm, he bent over and loaded another on top. Then another. Then another. His arm bulged larger with every new addition, the giant vein pulsing along its peak grinding into the bags it supported. The young airman finally stopped at five bags and, after wiping dripping sweat from his brow, turned to walk the ten paces separating the pile from a three foot deep square ditch he just finished digging. He dropped the bags along the rim, organized them into a nice border along the edge with a few well placed kicks that sent his quads flaring, then turned again to retrieve more. His sweat darkened shirt clung ever tighter to his body. Deeply cut abs stood out boldly where it wasn't heavily shadowed by engorged pecs that heaved and fell with each breath. He bent over to retrieve more bags forcing his calves and hamstrings to flare in response beneath military issued shorts that rose well above mid thigh. The Christmas tree striations of his lower back bulged through the shirt as he stood. Every ripple and fold of his lats and traps writhed as he loaded another five sandbags onto his arm as if they weighed no more than couch pillows. Back and forth Lewis went, carrying his sandbags from the giant pile to line them up around his pit. That pit was ten feet by ten feet and had taken him only an hour to dig. A small crowd began to gather around him as he'd dug and had recently grown to more than twenty gawkers. Some stared in open admiration. Others made as if they stood there for other reasons and only glanced Lewis's way as if by accident as they carried on conversations that any sane person would have accomplished an air conditioned building, not in 100+ degree heat. I stood among the masses, arms cross and drenched in sweat myself. These heavy uniforms did a good job hiding my rapidly growing body but were better suited for freezing weather. I was there to officially observe Lewis's punishment for nearly strangling Whitaker. There were a number of authorized punishments available to me as the commander: reduction in rank, reduced pay, court marshal, etc. But the nineteen year old airman was already at a pretty junior rank, taking pay was relatively cruel for someone already played a pittance, and a court marshal was a little harsh since there were two sides to the story. For Whitaker, I had him reassigned to another unit on base. He'd already been gone two weeks and there'd been no issues since. For Lewis, I went with one of the lesser used (and more...old school) punishments: hard labor. The option was buried in one of the more antiquated but "still-on-the-books" policies, right next to being rationed bread-and-water. But the punishment seemed fitting: single handedly build a defense bunker. The process involved digging a ten foot by ten foot square three feet deep, then creating a defensible position using sandbags and roof slats, complete with turret holes. They were scattered all over base to provide quickly accessible shelter should a flock of terrorists come charging in. So at the crack of dawn a young and very buff Lewis started digging his hole. People took notice of the baby-faced bodybuilder, some even stood to gawk before making their way on. But as the day wore on, Lewis kept going. Instead of growing weary and exhausted, he instead appeared to get stronger and more virile as the process moved on. Once he finished the hole and shifted to the sandbags, his strength seemed impossible. That's when the passersby were suddenly stopped dead in their tracks, helplessly watching this sweat-covered god of a human toil under the desert sun. Standing at 6'2 (or maybe a little more), he was "big" enough to be maybe 230 or 240 pounds. Those weren't inhuman proportions. But just one look and you knew something was different. His muscles looked too dense. It was the small things: his biceps dented the sandbags instead of the other way around, his forearm didn't give against his forehead when he wiped sweat from his brow...all-in-all, the bulges of his body seemed too hard. It was hard to explain but there was something that just looked...fucking amazing. "Sweet Jesus," a familiar voice said admiringly at my shoulder. "He one of yours?" I turned to see Dasa smiling hungrily at Lewis as he toiled. "Yep," I said. "Strange, haven't seen him." Her eyes squinted at him. "I guess he kinda looks familiar." I just nodded; the last time she'd seen him he was half the size he was now. Lewis was now carrying six bags at a time, somehow supporting all that weight in the crook of his forearm. His biceps were screaming, skin stretched and shiny, displaying individual muscles I didn't even know existed on the human anatomy. The crowd around us continued to grow but, by his face, I wasn't sure Lewis even knew there was a soul around him. His eyes were focuses inwards and I could see he was relishing every moment of this "punishment." His face was contorted in a strained grimace as he lugged the bags over to the rapidly developing bunker. The fibers in his arm continued to quiver and shake under the load. I let my hand wrap around my own bicep and gave it a good flex, feeling the muscle jump under my sleeve and swell into my hand. I was quickly on my way to matching Lewis. In the two weeks since Lewis's incident, I'd put on another sixty pounds and my uniform was now snug in all the right places. Any more size could not be hidden. I was pulled away from my self-appreciation when I heard another baritone grunt. I looked up as Lewis now struggled with ten sandbags in an obvious effort to test the limits of his strength. I could see his massive quads ripple violently with each step as they supported the extreme combined weight of his body and bags. Lewis's back muscles bulged and his traps swelled up his neck. His face was red with the strain, veins bulging along his forehead. But his arm. Oh my god his arm. The muscles in it writhed and rolled as if they were fighting each other for space. Then something happened that no one in the crowd would ever forget. A few steps into Lewis's trek to the bunker, that quivering bicep suddenly...popped. That's the only way I could describe it. In the blink of an eye, his shredded nineteen inch arms just doubled in size to the circumference of a person's waist. The rapidly expanding boulder of muscle shoved against the sandbags he carried and they fell to the ground as if thrown. A rip formed at the base of his sleeve and cleanly tore its way all the way up to the top of his shoulder, letting the pumpkin sized deltoids swell out of them. A gasp ran through the crowd. "Holy shit," I heard Dasa say but I couldn't break my eyes away from the inhuman spectacle. Lewis noticed too. He stared down at his insanely proportioned arm and gave it a good flex. The peak of his bicep rose and rose and rose to a granite mountain and the fabric around his lat finally gave up as he raised his arm to admire himself. It was as if every muscle fiber in his arm just decided to double in size. Lewis smiled as he flexed the engorged arm. Blood vessels pulsed around the giant peak, feeding it. The crowd watched, dumbfounded and silent as Lewis finally bent over and picked up the bags he dropped, again resting them in the crook of his now superhuman arm. That over-sized arm flared angrily, sweat dripping down the newly formed ravines that ran from shoulder to elbow. But it now carried the ten bags with less effort than it once took him to carry half that. Lewis had grown stronger in an instant. A lot stronger. I felt my own body without touching it, its hardness, its growing size. I would have that power soon enough. "What on earth..." Dasa was having a hard time processing things but her eyes stared hungrily at Lewis as he continued his labor. "I may have to find an excuse to come by your office more often." She chuckled and gave my arm a playful punch. I thought nothing of it until I felt her hand rest against my arm and give it a squeeze. I smiled without looking at her and gave my arm a flex, letting my iron bicep swell under her grip. I looked down at her after a moment. She was looking up at me, her brows raised and her mouth parted slightly. She took her hand away and smiled. "See you later, sailor." There was heat behind those words. I smiled and looked back at Lewis, who was now lugging a full dozen sandbags on that supersized arm. His shoulder had joined in the grow game and was now the size of a basketball and still growing. The shirt sleeve that once contained it now hung in tatters, and a rip was now growing up the seam of his trap. Before too long it would fall away and his shirt would be more toga than t-shirt. The crowd around us was getting bigger now and I spied a two star general now among them, his arms crossed and eyes narrowed under a furled brow. My breath caught. This was not the attention we wanted. Shit, game's over. I walked up to Lewis just as he finished placing his latest pile of bags. "Consider the punishment complete," I said quietly and put a hand against that monstrous arm. Lewis turned to me, face red and sweating. His chest heaved and I heard popping sound of strained cotton strands accompany each inhale. He smiled through his exhaustion and nodded. Five minutes later he was back in my office, my metal chair grunting and squealing under his mass. He was fixated on his swollen arm, flexing the basketball sized monstrosity and rubbing its veined peak with his hand. He obviously liked what he saw as his dick had recently exploded through the inner lining of his shorts and was forced, fully erect, down the side of his tree trunk thigh. It protruded, thick and pulsing, from the hem of those straining shorts and ran halfway to his knee. It jumped powerfully when he gave his bicep a squeeze. I found myself speechless; so fixated I was on the scene before me. I was experiencing the dual wonder of wanting to join him rubbing that inhuman arm while at the same time knowing I was only a couple weeks away from having that power myself. "So fucking unreal," he said, mostly to himself. "Oh fuck fuck fuck." his dick jumped again and its head swelled. I considered moving in case it fired something at me but stayed put for some reason. "I've felt like a mousetrap this whole time," he said. "Like I was about to erupt. Fucking hell, I finally did." If I wasn't experiencing the same thing, I'd have no idea what he was talking about. But I knew all too well. I believed it had something to do with gaining all that weight but not having the size to match. I was so much denser now and I felt like a giant shoved into a child's body. I felt like I SHOULD be bigger, so much bigger, but I wasn't. I looked like a 220 pound freak of nature but weighed well over 300 pounds. And my body wanted to LOOK well over 300 pounds. It was like being constantly on the verge of an orgasm but just not able to climax. "Fuck," Lewis moaned and grabbed his collar with his free hand. "Too tight." He pulled and ripped his shirt off his body as easily as if it were a blanket lying over him. His concrete body seemed to balloon slightly now the constructing shirt was off. Taking a deep breath, as if his first since putting the accursed thing on, he looked back at his swollen arm then at me. "It's getting smaller," he said. "Pretty soon it'll go back to what it was." He turned his eye to the other bicep and gave it a good flex. The nineteen inch boulder was impressive but nothing compared to the monstrous other one. I was disbelieving at first but a closer look proved him right; the arm was indeed slowly shrinking back; like a pump an hour after working out. He was silent a moment before continuing. "I've stopped growing," he said finally. "I didn't want to believe it but I haven't gotten any stronger in the last week." He looked back at me. "I want more. I'm taking the next step." There was no doubt what he was talking about. He wanted to take the second canister. "What do you think will happen?" I said smoothly. Lewis shrugged, his swollen lats flaring between his engorged delts. "Only one way to find out." He spoke as if he was heading over right then and there. I took a deep breath (and couldn't help but relish how my uniform stretched across my chest). I brushed the euphoria aside, focused instead on the consequences if something...noticeable...happened to Lewis if he took the second canister. What if he took both?! If we got unwanted attention, it could ruin everything. I wasn't ready. I needed more time to max my own body out. I needed to be as big as Lewis...and there it was. You want to be the biggest, don't you? a little voice asked me. I shook my head to clear it. "What if it makes you smaller?" I asked carefully. "Takes away everything you gained." "It won't," Lewis said confidently and actually got up as if to leave. "Two weeks," I said, standing as well. Lewis's eyes crew dark and the muscles in his body all jumped as he grew tense. He seemed to gain twenty pounds in that instance. "I didn't ask," he said. I stepped up to him, hands up in a calming gesture. My mind raced, nearly panicked, searching for anything to give me more time. His body radiated heat and I could smell the musk of the day's work hanging in the air. He was taller than me and far more powerful. We both knew I couldn't force him to do anything. I put a hand against his granite chest, beads of sweat pooling around my fingers. I felt a thump against my leg and looked down to see his dick swelling and lifting itself up against the nylon fabric of his military issue shorts. Without thought, I reached down and wrapped my hand around it, feeling the tha-dump-tha-dump of his heart beat through the shaft. It was as hard as the rest of him. He moaned and I locked his eyes with mine. "Two weeks," I said again and started rubbing him. He gasped. I didn't know what I was doing or why. There was just something about two rock hard bodies leaning against each other like boulders. We touched and I let my eyes wander across the close up view of his inhumanly powerful body. His deeply chiseled abs rose and fell, flexing as his body tensed. I moved my hand faster and he swelled until my fingers no longer made it completely around him. Lewis's muscles flexed and fell, flexed and fell as veins bulged across his traps and upper chest. He leaned his head back, eyes closed and mouth open. I found myself on my knees, eyes locked on a foot long dick bordered by thighs as bulging and hard as any bodybuilder's. Before I could even think about it, he was in my mouth as my hands continuing to work him. He came a moment later and I felt molten hot liquid fill my mouth and force its way down my throat. I took him in, not knowing if the sudden powerful surge rolling through my body was real or psychological. Either way, I felt like I could lift a truck. I felt my own dick raging against my pants, desperate for freedom. Each spurt filled my mouth and I only had time to swallow before he filled it again. Afterwards , I stood and used Lewis's tattered shirt to wipe my mouth. "Two weeks," I said again and threw the shirt at him. Lewis nodded shallowly, eyes distant and blissful. "Two weeks," he agreed breathlessly.
  11. hotmuscle101

    Blue Pill Part 20

    Sorry for the wait, in case you need a refresher here is Blue Pill Part 19 And without further ado I give to you Blue Pill Part 20 Although she had just fed, Sarah was hungrier than she had ever been before. The smell that hit her as soon as she opened the door to the gym was intoxicating, like pure male essence. It was the aroma of sweat and testosterone that caused her newly formed dick to harden down the leg of her short running shorts. The head of her dick just barely held within the confines of her shorts. She began to sniff the air, walking down the hallway, following the smell to where it was the strongest. This led Sarah to a heavy steel door, which she quickly pushed open to reveal an even more intense cloud of the stench that led here there from the hallway. It was so thick it was almost as if you could swim in it. Sarah felt something wet drip onto her foot and as she looked down to inspect where it came from, she saw another drop forming at the edge of her boxers. The smell had her so turned on that she was hornier than she ever remembered being before. Sarah was surprised to find the locker room was practically empty, minus the few gym bags sitting outside of their lockers. She walked up to one of the gym bags that was setting open atop the bench. She looked in and found a used jock sitting on top. Sarah reached into the gym bag and pulled out the jock. It was still warm and sweaty from the previous wearer, as if it had just been discarded. She brought the jock up to her nose, smelling the amazing aroma of sweat and testosterone with a hint of cum. Sarah stuck the jock in her mouth sucking on the sweat and cum. As she was sucking she felt a surge of strength run through her body and felt her dick pulse in her running shorts. She looked down to see that the head of her dick was now just barely peeking out of the edge of her shorts. As she was looking down at her dick, she noticed that her entire body looked pumped. She ran her hand along the shaft of her penis, earning her a glob of pre-cum once she reached the head. Hormones were racing through her brain telling her she needed to get off and soon. Sarah heard the sound of a shower turning on through the doorway at the end of the row of lockers. She headed towards the doorway with a hunger in her eyes and a raging hardon in her shorts. " Time to feed" she growled to herself... When Riley had first arrived to the gym, his gut was full and swollen with Derek's cum. He knew he needed to do something to get the size of his beach ball belly to go down and after reading the note that was left for Derek about how it would be beneficial for him to work out, he decided the best place for that would be Frank's Gym. It was always filled with meatheads and hardcore weights. Riley was in his jock and a pair of sweats he had found in the school locker room and He was wearing a t-shirt that said 'Fletcher Valley Athletic Department'. It was a little loose on him, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be that way for long. He looked out across the gym floor and found a handful of guys lifting. They ranged in size from amateur bodybuilder to Olympia sized. The biggest being Damien, he was easily a 300-pound wall of shredded beef, ready to dominate his next bodybuilding competition. He was a 6-foot-tall wall of dark chocolate and he was walking straight towards Riley. Riley began to panic. He wondered if the behemoth had seen him staring or if he was just overthinking. Jason's heart began racing faster and faster as each titanic footfall of the giant caused his meaty pecs to bounce. His massive Quads rolling over each other as they fought for space inside the weak confines of his gym shorts. Riley couldn't believe his eyes when they finally fell upon the obscene bulge in Damien's shorts. He had seen some decent sized packages in the school locker room. Chris's came to mind right away, but what was in front of him now had to be as big as Chris's cock was when it was hard, and it was completely soft. As Damien got right up next to me he leaned down to say something in my ear. His deep baritone filled my soul, as I had a hard time registering what he was saying. "Yeah, I saw you lookin. You're gonna need about another 100 pounds before you can handle what I got to give. Come find me when you do though, I'd love to fill your bowl with my cream." He stood back up to his full height and I watched his face as a huge toothy grin formed on his face as he gave me a wink. He reached down to adjust his package which Jason swore was bigger than just a moment ago. As Damien walked past Riley, He turned to watch Damien as he stared directly at Riley's ass. He seductively licked his lips as he headed into the gym locker room. To say that Riley felt on fire would be an understatement, he felt like hormones were flooding his entire being. Not only that, but his cock was rock hard. He knew he needed to focus. If what the note said was true, he needed to start lifting so he could absorb all the muscle cum that was in his belly. Riley decided to start with arms, so he headed over to a long row of dumbbells in front of a large gym mirror. He grabbed the 25's to start as a warm up and headed over to the isolation bench. As he was walking over to the bench Riley watched his arms in the mirror as the sinewy muscle lightly flexed to support the weight in his hands. He flexed his arm straight down causing a slight bulge to appear on the back of his arm from his triceps. Riley sat at the isolation bench and began doing curls. At first the weight was a little heavy, but began to get easier to lift as he did more reps. Once he had 25 reps done he switched to his other arm and began lifting again. Riley watched as veins began to surface on his arm and his goose egg of a bicep began expanding, just a little bit more with each rep. With his biceps now feeling warmed up, he brought the weight behind his head and began one armed triceps-extensions. He really had to push at the beginning to get the weight up, but as he continued it got easier and easier with each rep. Riley did 25 with each arm and stood up to take the weights back. This time as he passed himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but gawk at his reflection. His arms were pumped just from his warm-up. Riley started the work out with 15-inch arms, but they were looking much closer to the 15-inch range and this time when he flexed his arm straight down, he was rewarded with an actual horse-shoe bulge on the back of his arm. The boner that had started to go down during his lifts sprang back to life as he admired his pump in the mirror. "Fuck yeah! I'm getting pumped" Riley growled to himself in the mirror. "So fucking hot!" Riley put the weights back and walked further down the row of weights, this time picking up the 50's. Riley had never done anything heavier for isolation curls than 35. He could feel the heaviness of the weight in his hands as he headed back to the bench. Riley sat down and began pumping out rep after rep. As the weight got lighter with each rep, his arm began to bulge with some serious muscle. Veins that had appeared during his warm-up were now thickening and branching out all across his swollen bicep. The hard knot on his arm was now about the size of a baseball. Riley then continued the same process with his other arm. During this entire process Riley's raging hard on had begun leaking copious amounts of pre-cum into his jock. Knowing that he was going to have some difficulty doing single arm triceps extensions with 50 pounds, He decided to do just a regular triceps extension using both arms and the 50-pound dumbbell. It was a struggle at first, but just like with his biceps it got easier with every rep he did. Riley lost track of how many extensions he did until he realized that the weight he was using felt as light as the 25 pounders. Riley stood up to take the weight back. This time what he saw in the mirror was a complete and total surprise, the arms that he now possessed were at least 16 inches and wrapped in veins. He couldn't believe how big he was getting. The thought caused his cock to flex in his sweats, which brought his attention to a wet spot that had begun to form where the head of his dick was. Riley reached down and ran his hand along his shaft, as he flexed his cock in his hand. He continued flexing his cock in his hand, as he brought his other arm up into a flex as well. This caused his cock to react by surging in his hand, the head of his cock was now poking out of his jock and shot a wad of precum on the inside of his sweat pants. More turned on then he ever remembered being in his life, Riley headed over to the bench press and loaded the bar with weight for a warm-up. He laid under the bar and brought the weight down to graze his nipples. He then pushed the weight back up. Riley cranked out rep after rep as he began to get a pump from his warm up. Riley began losing sight of his erect nipples as his pecs began inflating with blood. Riley decided it was time to put some serious weight on the bar. He got up and loaded the bar with 300 pounds and got back under the bar. The most Riley had ever benched before this was 150 and that was a struggle. Riley felt confident this time as he lifted the bar, he slowly brought the bar down, feeling the muscle fibers in his pecs stretch and scream in pain as they were forced to lift twice as much as they ever had before. The weight finally reached his pecs and he pushed with all his might to get the weight back up. Once it was back at the top, he brought the weight back down, this time not as much resistance from his pecs. Every time Riley brought the weight down he didn't have to go as far as his pecs swelled thicker with each rep. After what felt like an eternity, Riley finally re-racked the weight and sat up on the bench. Right away Riley could tell a huge difference in his pecs, the weight of his bulbous man breasts pulled heavily on the fabric of his shirt. Riley stood to look at himself in the mirror. "OH SHIT" Riley couldn't believe how big his pecs had become. "I might have done too many bench presses." Riley realized, too late of course, that his pecs were out of proportion with the rest of his body. They almost looked like breasts if it weren't for his slight pouch of a belly he had left. Riley ran his hand up along the curve of his bulbous pec muscle and moaned out loud on the gym floor as his hand rubbed across his pert nipple. A couple of the muscle heads turned to catch a glimpse of Riley and his increasing wet spot in his sweat pants. Realizing that he needed to balance out his body, Riley headed over to the squat rack last. One of the big meat heads must have been using it last, because they didn't take their weights off the bar. The bar was loaded with 500 pounds. Riley was feeling stronger than he ever felt and his rock-hard cock told him that he could lift that fucking weight. Riley braced himself underneath the bar and went to lift the weight up when the big muscle head that had been lifting there headed over to stop Riley. "Hey bro, that weight is way too heavy for your chicken legs, how about we start you off with something a little lighter?" "I'm going to crush this weight!" Riley growled with a fire in his eyes. "Well then, I'm at least going to spot you, I would hate for you to crush yourself under my watch. Names Ben by the way, I'm the manager of Frank's gym." "Enough talk Ben, let's lift some fucking weight." Riley lifted the bar up before Ben was positioned behind him. Riley could feel Ben's hard biceps against the back of his newly minted triceps. The breath on the back of his neck made him even hornier if that was even possible. "FUUUUCCCCKKKKK" Riley moaned/yelled as he squatted down with the weight, he could feel Ben's crotch against his ass as he pushed back in the bottom of the lift, then Riley began pushing the unbelievably heavy weight back up. At the top of the lift, Riley could feel Ben's biceps tense against his triceps as he was trying to get Riley to re-rack the weight. "Great job man, I..." "Did I say I was done yet?!?" As Riley squatted down again, with Ben following him down. The legs of Riley's sweatpants were becoming increasingly tight around his ever-enlarging thighs and he could feel his ass pushing back more into Ben's crotch. Riley flexed his ass at the bottom of the squat. This elicited a moan out of his spotter as he could feel Ben's dick hardening against his rock-hard ass cheeks. Once at the top of the lift, Riley started another squat. Riley could feel the power in his legs increasing as they blew up in size. He could feel his sweat pants becoming too tight against his straining cock and his ballooning ass. Before he could stop himself from humiliation, he heard the ass of his sweats give out with a loud rip. He could feel cool air hit his hole as it was exposed between the straps of his jock. Ben felt the head of his cock through his gym shorts push past Riley's rock-hard ass cheeks to his exposed hole. Riley felt Ben's cockhead through his shorts as it pushed against his hole. Riley decided to hold the weight there for a little longer. Ben rubber the head of his cock against Riley's hole. Riley's legs strained to hold the weight, but they grew larger by the second during the strain, making it easier the longer he held it. "Fuck man, I can't. You have got a really hot ass and I have never had these feelings for another guy before. I'm straight man I'm sorry." Ben pulled his cock head back from Riley's ass and stepped back. Riley stood back up with the weight and re-racked it. Riley turned around to face Ben. He stood almost eye to eye with Ben. Ben had the most beautiful hazel eyes and short military cut hair. His face was chiseled and manly looking. He had to be about 260 pounds. He was a big boy. Riley looked down and realized that’s not all that was big on Ben. His arms and pecs were massive, but what really pulled Riley's attention is what was poking at his hole just moments ago. Riley reached down and wrapped his hand around it, massaging the head. Ben moaned loudly as he closed his eyes and rolled his head back. Riley leaned his body in against Ben's, "Wh..what are you doing?" Ben stuttered as Riley leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. Ben moaned into Riley's mouth as Riley felt Ben's cock swell in his hand as it anticipated releasing its load. Riley stepped away from Ben before he could cum. Ben's eyes were still closed in a moment of bliss."FUCK! That was so fucking hot! Why did you stop?" "You're straight remember." Riley replied with a devilish grin." Besides, I'm done with my workout. Thanks for the spot Ben. Hopefully we can lift together again." Riley gave Ben a wink as he headed for the lockers, holding the ass of his sweats together as best he could. "HEY, WAIT! I never got your name!" Ben shouted after Riley. "If you want my name you'll have to see me again to get it." Riley headed into the locker room and began taking off all his clothes. He admired the way he struggled to get his shirt up over his massive pecs. Riley moaned as the hem of the shirt snagged on his nipples. Riley removed the remains of his sweats to reveal a raging hard on he wasn't expecting. It was about a half inch bigger than he was used to and quite a bit thicker. "Well this isn't covering anything anymore." Riley said as he removed his jockstrap and set it on top of his gym bag. Riley couldn't believe how big he had gotten. He must weigh at least 190 now. He heard the locker room door open on the other side of his lockers. Riley thought it might be Ben, so he wanted to make Ben work for it a little bit, so he turned and quietly slipped into the sauna before he came around the lockers. "God I can't wait to make love to the beautiful man!"
  12. This story is a conversion of an old RP I did with a friend, @jsmith230. It was one of my favorite RPs so I thought I would convert it and share. While my first preference is muscle growth with a secondary love of height growth, you could say his preferences are the inverse of mine. So that will give you a hint of what this story will entail. Part 2Part 3Part 4Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13 *************************************************************************** Elongro “Dude, have you heard of that new 'Elongro' drug? I have to get my hands on it. I want to get huge this year!” Seth rolls his eyes as he listens to Trevor ramble on about the new miracle drug that has been making a splash among the young adult community worldwide. Trevor and Seth are college roommates and best buddies currently in their second year of college. The two were paired up as dormmates during Freshman year and their friendship blossomed from there. Both 19 years old, the two share a small apartment just off campus. To the outsider, Trevor is the alpha of the friendship, much more confident, outgoing and outspoken than his counterpart. He has always been very athletic and since coming to college has fully invested his free time into fitness and working out. He's obsessed with trying to put on mass and is always trying the latest supplements, pills and powders, along with constantly reading articles on new exercises programs to try. He has built himself up to a nice, ripped, 185 lbs on a 5’10.5 frame. His body fat hovers around 10-12% and he sports a nice 6-pack. But, like any true wannabe bodybuilder, it wasn't, deep down he wanted more. Much more. Seth is Trevor's roommate and while he also has a natural athleticism to him, he hasn't pursued it nearly to the degree that Trevor has, though few people could really say that. Some of the reason behind this is that Seth always felt just a bit too small to ever have great success in sports. He was one of those people who were content to be good enough to make the high school baseball team though he only saw limited playing time. Since college began, Seth exercised a couple times a week, mainly by just jogging, leaving him with a naturally slim and toned 145 lbs on his 5’8 body. The pair were pursuing business degrees although Trevor wasn't quite sold on the idea after his first year. While Seth fully intends to pursue a sales and marketing career, Trevor has considered switching to a more body-centric physical therapy program that would work well in parallel with his pursuit of fitness excellence. What currently has Trevor excited is the discovery of a new drug that offered an exciting possibility. Within the past year, a new compound was developed and released in Korea that is commonly known as “Elongro”. It's use had begun to spread across the developed world. However, due the USA’s overly strict drug testing protocol, the drug is still not legally available in the USA though it is available in most of Asia, Europe and Canada. The drug has caused excitement for people who are small in stature, either height or build. What the drug does is that it basically freezes a young adult growth rate, including hormonal levels, where that rate might be starting to wane. Along with enhancing the sex characteristics, it also keeps their growth plates open for an extended amount of time, allowing an individual to continue to grow for much longer than they normally would. Seth shakes his head as he listens to his roommate explain the drug. “What that means, Seth, is that if you naturally had, say, one more month of growth before your plates fused, you might keep growing at the same rate for another 2-3 months instead with Elongro. But, just think, if you were in the middle of a big growth spurt and originally had many months, or year left, you could potential retain that growth rate for a few more years! Isn't that awesome!” “Uh huh. Sure man. Sounds cool man,” Seth replied cooly. “Sounds a bit too good to be true, really.” “Well, it's not perfect, you're right.” Trevor pulls up his phone to read the details of the drug from the website he'd been researching. “The major drawback of the drug is that it has been shown to cause devastating side effects if a person is still showing any signs of puberty. Most humans complete puberty by the time they are 16 or 17 but keep growing in size for another 1 to 4 years. Because of this risk, most countries that allow the sale of the drug ban it from being used on any person under the age of 19. Also, the drug will not work if a person’s growth plates have already fused, which for many people has already occurred by the time they are 19. Thus, the window for success for the drug is very limited, if open at all. The reports say that only about one-quarter of the people who try to drug experience any results.” Trevor looks away from his phone at his disinterested roommate, but his own excitement cannot be interrupted and he keeps scrolling through the information showing on his phone. “For those that it does work, though, the results have been significant! Bro, this website says there are online rumors from the drug’s testing phase of people putting on 40-50 lbs of muscle and growing up to 6 to 8 inches taller well into their 20s! Shit dude, that would ROCK! I read that for those who are lucky enough to still be growing, the average success rate has been 15 lbs and 2-3 inches over an additional 6 months to 1 year of growing. I would give anything to put on some more size like that! My training has really stalled lately.” “That is pretty sweet, Trev. But you said it yourself, it may not even work. If you've finished your natural growth you're S.O.L.” Trevor huffs as Seth downplays Elongro. Tervor can't help but imagine the possibilities. Though he never mentioned it, while focused on growing his muscles, he secretly always wanted to be taller as well. He hadn't told Seth, but he had already started the process of obtaining the Elongro. He had already set up a quick weekend trip to Canada where a close friend was to obtain a prescription and then supply him with a vial of Elongro. He's aware of the illegality but the chance to put on some size even if it's just a few pounds or an inch in height, is too much to pass up. Because of the drug’s scarcity and the fact he has to obtain it illegally, it will cost Trevor over $1200, a huge amount for a poor college kid. “Seth, from my doctor’s appointment this summer I found out that I had grown another ½” to my current 5’10-1/2 height. So I'm positive I'm on my final growth spurt! I just KNOW it will work. But I got to get started soon before my growth stops.” “Ok, man, whatever. Man, you really are obsessed with size. You've got that dysmorphia thing, haha. I men, you are already jacked, you should be happy.” “Never big enough, bro!” the handsome stud chuckled in reply. “So how does it work? Is it a pill or something?” “Naw, it's an injection. It works from just one single injection. Each vial contain enough liquid for 5 injections, even though only one is needed. This is where you come in, bro!” “Me? What for?” “Well, the thing is, this shit is really expensive. And, like I said you only need one injection, but each vial has enough for five injections. So, I wanted to ask, If I get the Elongro, could I sell you an injection too? It would help me out and I would appreciate it. My girlfriend already said she'd take one of the injections too. Help a brother out, it's fuckin' expensive stuff. I'm not even asking for the full price of a dose, just $200 to help me cover.” “C'mon Trev, don't ask me that. I don't... Man, I don’t think I’ve grown in a couple of years, it would most likely be a waste on me.” “But, Bro, even if you had the slimmest chance to be just a little taller and stronger, wouldn’t you want to take it?” Trevor tries his best to pitch the idea. Seth rebuffs his approaches but he knows what will get Seth on board. “Hey, you know that girl that works at the rec center you’ve been crushing of the past year? Remember how you told me you overheard her talking with her friends that she said she would never date a guy under 5’10 and 175 lbs? She says that because she's pretty tall for a girl, like 5'9 or so. Just think, buddy! If you put some size maybe she’ll give you a second look!” Trevor sees the gears turning in Seth's head. He still seems unconvinced but he can tell he's touched a nerve. “C’mon man, you always told me how you felt like you were too small in high school to be one of the jocks on campus even though you were on the baseball team. This could be your chance to put on some size and least be average height. Wouldn’t you want that, little buddy?” Trevor tosses in ‘little buddy’ because he knows Seth hates when bigger dudes call him that. And that seals the deal. “Ugh. Fine, bro. Whatever," he says with annoyed defeat. "And hey, I’m way past puberty so there’s no risk, right? Other than I’ll be out $200." “That’s the spirit, pal! I promise this will be worth the investment!” * Seth walks to his room to collect the cash. He can't help but shake his head at Trevor's crazy antics. "This stuff is never going to work on me," he says to himself. But, knowing how into this Trevor is he knows that the right thing to do is to support his roomie and at least give it a try. Plus, that way when it doesn't work, he can hold that over his head! Or at least Trev will give it up and move onto something different, just like he always does. The following weekend Trevor makes five hour drive up North to Canada. Upon his return he excitedly enters their apartment and makes himself known. That night, the two friends administer the shot. They both have it their our heads that the effect would be immediate, even though all of the documentation says they won't know right away whether or not it works. But the placebo effect is very real those first few days and it drives the two crazy not knowing for sure if they will see an impact, but the excitement builds. That night Seth dream of growing taller, standing over guys who always made fun of his short height and pushing his skinny body around... being seen as tall... growing again... finally becoming the man he'd always wanted to be. Not being relegated to playing right field in baseball having never hit a home run. All those guys looking down at Seth! He jolts awake and realizes his dick is tenting the sheets. Even though he was skeptical at first, he can't help but think how deep down he must want this injection to work. How badly he needs to become bigger and stronger. He chuckles, knowing how slim the odds are and fades back to sleep. After the first few days of no noticeable changes the two both act as if nothing has happened. Although they both seem to be constantly checking themselves against the heights of familiar landmarks and people, including each other. Inside Trevor is still stoked, convinced that he will reap significant gains. Knowing that Seth hasn't grown upwards in years, he knows it likely won't work for his friend, but he was happy he at least he got $200 out of Seth. Truthfully, Trevor loved having Seth as his roommate. Not only from a personality standpoint, but he loved being the bigger and more dominant man compared to Seth. It was nothing against Seth, it just fed well into Trevor's desire to get bigger and build up his physique. Whenever they went out, Seth always demurred to Trevor when choosing which movies to watch, with parties to go to, what girls to hang with. Trevor was the alpha apparent. Two weeks after the injections the two are eating dinner and Trevor notices Seth is wolfing down a ton of food. "Hungry, there Seth?" "Dude," he says between mouthfuls of grilled chicken, "I can't remember the last time I was this hungry. I just can't get to feeling full lately... it's so weird..." Trevor chuckles as he watches Seth go back to finishing his chicken before starting on some brats. Trevor shakes his head, teasing Seth that “the freshman 15 is real, just delayed for you" before getting up to do the dishes. A bit later the two are hanging out watching TV and chatting about classes and wanting to catch the new Spiderman movie. Seth rubs his full round belly and ponders, pausing, before finally asking his roomie a surprising question. "Have you been making any gains in the gym? I was thinking rather than just running maybe I would try lifting some." Trevor is taken off guard. He knew Seth never went to the rec center other than to run, and certainly never made his way into the weight room. "I was thinking... maybe... I could like... join you sometime?" While Seth has managed to stay relatively thin, having a fitness obsessed roommate might be starting to rub off on him a bit. "Its just, with how I've been eating... maybe I should," he jokes. "I'll get fat if I keep eating like this. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to have a bit more muscle for the ladies... maybe get some attention for once. It seems to have worked out well for you!" "Hell yeah buddy! I would love to be your training partner. Hell, I was thinking I might want to make a career out of it in the future, either personal training or physical therapy. I'd love to show you the ropes, you could be my first client! But, don't worry, little buddy, I won't charge you." Seth's face tightens at the words 'little buddy' and Trevor instantly feels bad. "Er...sorry, Seth. But yeah, even though you haven't been lifting I can tell you are a little bit thicker lately, just from all the food you've been eating. I'm still making gains, but it's slow going." The next day Trevor takes Seth to the gym for his first weightlifting workout. Seth marvels at the poundages that Trevor buddy can lift. Trevor boasts that he can bench 225 lbs ten times and Seth seems to be in shock when he performs the feat. On his turn, Seth can barely do 135 lbs five times. He is disappointed but his new trainer props him up. "Hey, dude, honestly that's a great weight, especially for your first workout. When I started I couldn't even bench 95 lbs once!" Seth perks up at that. As the two leave the weight room Seth notices the hot girl at the towel desk, Stacy. He is understandably smitten as he steals glances. “Fuck, Trevor. That Stacy is one super hot chick.” "Oh I hear ya man. I certainly don't mind the eye candy when I come here to lift everyday. Would love to get into that...if I weren't currently dating Brooke, that is, haha." Grinning stupidly, Seth replies. "Yeah, she's so hot Trev.... but I doubt she'd pay much attention to a guy like me." Seth can't help but notice her height, not too far off from Trevor's. Noticeably taller than he is, certainly. That seems to be the case with a lot of girls on campus. So many of the college girls and guys seem so tall lately. Trevor laughs and reminds his friend that time in the gym won't hurt and that if he stays consistent and pushes himself that she won't care how tall he is. "Muscles always seal the deal!" Trevor chuckles and throws up a double bicep pose, flexing his impressive exposed arms, grinning cockily, causing Seth to roll his eyes. "Trev, doubt you'll be saying that when you are a six footer with me looking WAY up at you!” Seth jokes. "Then you will be tall AND muscular. I'm going to look like a little kid next to you.... so yeah, I better start lifting more I guess!" * A few weeks go by and Seth has been sticking with the gym, much to the surprise of his roommate. While it wasn't like Trevor had no faith in his buddy, he just knew the dropout rates for new lifters was very high. Trevor continues to coach and direct Seth, both in the weight room and giving him advice on his diet . His training advice is sound, and both can already see an improvement in Seth's physique, though it's not been easy for the new gymrat. "Ugh, Trevor, is it normal to ache all the time? I can never seem to really recover..." “Haha, buddy that's part of the deal. Though the more you lift the less sore you should be. It could be that you're not taking enough time to recover. Could be that your muscles are actually growing or any number of reasons. Just growing pains. But, it means that you are actually working and growing, so be excited, man!” Before long, Seth begins to notice that his shoes are uncomfortably tight. He'd worn size 9s since he finished growing taller a few years prior. At first he figures it's the workout. One day after class he hits the mall to get a new pair. While Trevor hangs out at their apartment he gets a text from Seth: [Trev, you won't believe it. I had to get new shoes! Size 10.5!! Crazy!!] Tervor's mind races, trying to process Seth's text. He'd been denying Seth's progress, playing it off as beginner gains. But could his smaller buddy actually be growing? A hint of fear and jealousy permeates his mind. He thinks to himself how his size 11 shoes haven't been feeling any tighter. He calms down and rationalizes that maybe the little guy is going to have one small growth spurt. There is still no way Seth will ever catch him. He convinces himself that must be growing too, even if his shoes still fit. I mean, your feet don't HAVE to get bigger to increase your height, right? Trevor remembers how he is up 7 lbs to 192 lbs, the biggest he's ever been and he doesn't seem any more muscular or more fat, so he assumes that extra weight is coming from added height. The thought calms his nerves and he smiles to himself, excited for the growth that lies ahead. * It is now six weeks after the shot and the two are once again in the gym working out. Seth has been make even more noteworthy progress and has settled into a dedicated routine. This time Trevor brings a notebook. In the locker room after the lifting session Trevor confronts his protege. "Dude, I am a terrible trainer! I forgot to take your initial stats to see how you are coming along. So let's start now, better late than never. We'll use this notebook to make sure you keep progressing. It's good motivation too to see your lifts go up week after week. Ok, how tall again?” "5 ft 8" Seth says, slightly annoyed. "Well, just a bit under actually." “Really? Are you sure?” Trevor looks at Seth, unconvinced. At first he is apprehensive to find out for sure, but he can't deny that Seth looks at least a little taller. Wanting to be a trainer though, he knows he needs to be accurate and thorough with his log books. "Nah, dude, let's find out for sure." Trevor directs Seth to stand against the wall while he takes a tape measure out of his bag. He measures his buddy. "Just a hair under 5 ft 9, dude!" Seth eyes widen and he looks at Trevor excitedly. He shouts, "Maybe that stuff is working for me! I've never been over 5'8 before!” “Dude, that's awesome! You're not quite AS tiny as before, haha. Ok c'mon let's take your weight.” Next, Seth hops on the scale. It reads 160 lbs. “Great job, Seth. That's a 15 lb gain in just 6 weeks. Those are pretty good beginner gains, dude!” Seth can't be more excited as Trevor notes his huge grin. He is thrilled! “Ok man, let's get your other measurements for the log.” Trevor tapes all of Seth's a major muscles groups and writes them in the notebook. Arms: 14.5” Chest: 38.5” Waist: 31” Quads: 21.5” Calves: 14” Trevor can't help but mentally compare his own stats to feed his ego. While Seth may have crept up in height he took solace that he still had him beat everywhere. He knew his 17” guns, 42” pecs, 24.5” legs and 15.5” calves were all well bigger while his tight 30” waist was even more ripped than his little buddy's. Not to mention, from what he had seen of his roommate in the showers, he had more 'down there' as well, the thought of which gave him a reassuring grin. “Not bad, dude! You've got some really big arms compared to the rest of you, definitely a strength. A good one to have too. Chicks dig big guns.” "I still can't believe it, Dude. I grew! I grew!" he keeps saying, trying not to draw a ton of attention to himself. "This is awesome. If it's working for me, it MUST be working for you too! Do you want me to measure your height too?" Tervor shifts a bit, clearly looking uncomfortable and conflicted. "It'll only take a minute... come on... this is exciting!!" Trevor shrugs and submits. Seth grabs and extends the tape measure, coming in closer to take his height. As he does, Trevor can't help but notice how much Seth seems to have closed that gap. The difference between 5ft8 and 5ft10.5 is noticeable, but an inch and a half really isn't. From a distance the two could look the same height! The thought causes the competitive trainer to shudder at the thought. He's always been bigger and taller than his roommate. "And it'll stay that way," he thinks to himself as he stands as straight as you can. The wait for Seth to declare the number feels like hours. Finally, he speaks. "Five Ten, Trev. Still." Seth pauses and watches for Trevor's reaction. He seems deflated momentarily before regaining composure. Seth attempts to reassure him. "Maybe it works different on people depending on their growth stage... I'm sure your growth will come soon!!" Seth says, slapping his back, "Hell, you've made great gains in the gym so something is happening!" Trevor seems to take this to heart, but Seth can tell he isn't completely convinced. Even so, while Seth is jubilant about his growth, he keeps it to myself to not offend his roommate. "Hey Trev, how about you have Brooke come over? I can cook us dinner tonight. I'm starved!!" he says as they grab their bags and head for the door. On the way back to their condo Trevor is obviously dejected but does his best to hide it. He can't believe that Seth is only about an inch shorter than him. And what happened to 5'10 and a HALF? Seth must've missed that last ½ inch, he tells himself. Still, it hurts not feeling as big. With the overall presence of his ripped muscles on his frame Trevor always felt like he towered over his smaller roommate. Not so much anymore. That night Brooke comes over as Seth is whipping up a feast in the kitchen. Having listened to Trevor go on an on about how important a big diet is for big muscles, Seth knew a big nutritious meal would cheer his friend up, let alone sate his own growing hunger. By now the two are well into the second semester of the school year. Everyone is deep into their studies neither had seen Brooke in about three weeks. When she comes in Trevor is stunned at how gorgeous she looks, even more beautiful than he remembered. He felt a stirring in his crotch as his girlfriend made her entrance. The FaceTime chats that they had been relegated to just didn't do her justice. She comes in wearing heels and is almost as tall as Seth! Trevor remembered her being about three inches shorter than Seth when he first introduced her. He now realizes she must be about 5'7 now! Seth too was stunned, noting how tall and sleek she looked. He recalled how Trevor told him he gave her the shot too and it seemed it was working on her too, maybe even more so than Seth! "Hey boys!", she said as she entered. “Hey babe! Damn, I've missed you. You are smokin'!” She goes over to her boyfriend gave him a kiss. Seth notices that Trevor didn't have to bend over like he used to, or at all to kiss her on the lips. She looks over at her boyfriend's roomie. "Hey Seth! You are looking good! I can tell you've been hitting the gym. Trevor said you'd been lifting with him lately. I can see that you've put on some muscle. You're going to have to move up size large, that medium shirt is looking a little tight! Trev, Babe, you must be a fantastic trainer!" The trio have a great evening catching up with each other and enjoying the grilled Caribbean chicken dish that Seth prepared. That night, after the friends retire to their rooms, Trevor goes to town fucking Brooke. All night long he had been staring at his girl full of lust. She just looked so fit and healthy. She was always fit, but she seemed to be on a another level tonight. Maybe it was the longer legs. He also couldn't deny that he was in much need of some release due to the frustration that he seemingly wasn't growing nearly fast enough. * Over the next few weeks, Seth is like a demon in the gym, pushing himself harder and harder and harder. Trevor watches and celebrates his gains, proud that his training techniques are working so effectively. And yet jealously, he see's his buddy making gains so quickly. While Seth started out benching 135, he's now pushing 185 for the same number of reps easily. It's an astounding change. And his shirts keep getting tighter and tighter, to the point now that he's started borrowing old shirts from Trevor! Trevor shakes his head, barely believing that his supposed small roommate needed them now. The duo keep pushing themselves in the gym, even during finals. They can hardly believe that the semester is almost over. It's even harder to believe that two are both getting summer jobs, though Trevor's will be out of state. "Sucks I won't be able to train with you for a couple of months, Trev... it's really been awesome. I've never been so buff in my life." Trevor has recently noticed that Seth's voice has gotten deeper over the last few weeks. Luckily, though, Seth hasn't seemed to have caught him in height. It's something they both have been watching for out of the corners of their eyes. During their last lift together for the school year Seth points to his notebook in Trevor's bag. "Maybe we should take stats again so that I can keep track of the progress myself?" “Erm...yeah man. Of course. Let's see how much mass you've put on, bro!” he says, purposely not mentioning height. The two head to the locker room and strip to their skivvies. Trevor notes how's Seth's body has developed so much that he's not too far behind himself, a thought that worries him. Seth steps on the scale first. The two watch it, with widening eyes, as it swings to 175 pounds. Seth's face brightens excitedly. "Dude... that's another 15 pounds in five weeks. NO WONDER none of my clothes fit!!! Oh wow I could tell I was getting some muscles when I look in the mirror, but this is awesome! Ok, let's take my other measurements. Bro, you are an awesome trainer!" The two high five and Trevor grabs the tape and steps up to Trevor. “Ok. Arms...16 and a quarter”. Woah dude. You are still rocking those huge guns, damn! And they are so defined, crazy, man.” Seth flexes his arm and Trevor watches, stunned, as the ball of muscle leaps into relief. It isn't huge, but a big, solid, undeniable lump of muscle bulges. It is the first time he has seen his roommate flex in any way. “Holy shit, Seth. Your peaks is sweet. Geezus. Ok, let's get the rest. Chest is...41”. Big gain of over two inches, wow. Waist is still 31”, so you're not getting fatter. It seems to be all muscle, dude! Legs...now 23”. Calves...another inch at 15. Those are some studly gains, dude! You're beginner gains won't quit!” “Thanks Trevor, I owe a ton of it to you bro!” “Any time, roomie! Ok move out the way so I can check my weight.” “Hey Trev, can you take my height?” “Erm...um yeah I suppose. You think you are still growing?” “I think so. I hope so.” It's the moment Trevor been dreading. Seth steps against the wall, standing as straight as he can. The anticipation is killing him. He WANTS to be bigger. HE WANT to be taller, even if it seems like he hasn't quite matched Trevor yet. Trevor measures him once... then again... and again. "Dude, what's up?" Seth asks. Trevor grins at him. Internally, Seth worries that he's hasn't grown anymore. Then shares the news. "You are five-ten now!" Now Seth understands the grin on Trevor's face. If he's 5ft10, that means... "Dude! Trevor, you must have grown TOO!!" The two high five, both ecstatic at each others' growth. "I told you, Trevor! It was only a matter of time!!" Trevor looks thrilled, FINALLY this drug was WORKING. Seth steps aside and readies his measurements without a word. It's clear he wants to know. He NEEDS to know. Seth first takes his weight, "200 pounds! Swole man, damn!!" And then he measures his height. "Almost 6ft, dude! You are nearly there!!!" * Trevor is so excited he could almost cry. He bear hugs Seth and lifts him off the ground, taking note of how newly solid and heavy Seth now feels. "Hell yeah buddy! We've both put on about an inch!” He sets his friend down. “But wait, you said 'almost 6 ft'. What was it really?” "Oh,...um...it was right at 5ft11.5. Maybe just a hair under.” Trevor's smile slightly wanes but he certainly can't be disappointed after the last measurement turned up no discernible growth. "But still, Seth, that's just about an inch of growth. I am totally going to hit 6 ft, I just know it!" “Hell yeah man, and maybe I can at least get to 'almost 6 ft' like you said, haha. Starting out at 5'8” I'd be more than happy being 'almost 6 ft'!” “I guess you were right, Seth. It does affect everyone a bit different. I mean, Brooke actually grew the fastest out of all us so far, she's put on like two and half inches.” “Sorta makes sense, I remember back in Junior High that the girls often grew faster at first compared to the boys. But yeah, man, it's working for Brooke though. She looks extra hot lately. Hope you don't mind me sayin'.” “Haha. No prob, dude. You can look, just don't touch!” The two laugh and high five again. Even though Trevor discovered that he is just slightly shorter than what Seth had originally let on, he is still joyous. His confidence that he always remain the bigger roommate returns. That night after the measurements Trevor meets up with Brooke for their last night together before they break from summer. Like him, she will also be away for the summer so they plan a last special night together. After eating at their favorite restaurant the two head home for some intimate time. Back at Trevor's condo, his excitement in the bedroom is palpable and spills over into his performance. “Woah there, tiger. What's gotten into you? I like it, stud.” Brooke asks, pleased at the sensations he is giving her. Brooke is also looking taller and more voluptuous than ever, further revving up the horny college stud. He proceeds to give her a heavy dicking from all the excitement at finally growing and making some noticeable muscle gains. He relays the news to Brooke and in the middle of their fucking she wants to be measured too. Trevor excitedly obeys and measure her now at 5 ft 8.5! He thinks to himself how his girlfriend is becoming quite the vixen before the two return to the bed for another round. The two, both enhanced and excited by the results of the Elongro, are able to go longer than they ever had before. The couple drift asleep in each other arms, Trevor dreaming of growing stronger, more muscular and taller than he could've ever imagined. To Be Continued... Jump to Part 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/16655-elongro/?do=findComment&comment=207069
  13. Austinevenson42

    A Twist on My New Year’s Resolution

    Short Story - A Twist on My New Year’s Resolution Please feel free to tell me what you think! I am planning on writing other stories, and maybe a sequel to this one if people want it. Hope you enjoy it! Okay, just hear me out. I know everyone always makes a New Year’s Resolution, usually fitness related, but never meet them. I understand that the gym gets full of people trying to get in the best shape of their lives at the start of the year…for a few weeks at most. But I’m different, I’m going to do it; my name is Drew and my New Year’s Resolution is to go to the gym and get ripped as fuck. Being skinny all of my life has not made things easy for me, especially during my first year of college. I’ve never really been popular, and if we’re being honest, I haven’t even kissed or had sex with anyone. My friends have always been pretty nerdy and geeky too, but don’t get me wrong, I like them all, I was just hoping for something different in college. Sadly, nothing has changed during my freshman year, except for the fact that I’ve gotten even more jealous. I’m tired of watching the hot muscular guys on my floor get with whoever they want whenever they want. My roommate, who isn’t even that big, has already been with like 10 different people. I’m forced to sleep over at my friend’s dorm every Saturday night, while my roommate is having his way with some hottie. I’m honestly sick and tired of it…but I have a plan. I am going to get some muscle on my body if it’s the last thing I do. Every day after class I am going to get myself into the campus gym, and I’m just going to work at it until I can’t anymore. I laid out my plan for my friends and they just laughed in my face. After I got over my initial anger, it actually just motivated me more and more. Leading up to New Year’s Eve it was all I could think about. I wanted to be muscular, I wished I could finally have sex, I needed a body that others would envy and drool over. The thoughts raced through my head, making me so horny, so turned on. Then, New Year’s Eve came. I was forced to attend my family’s New Year’s Party as I had no other plans. I didn’t care for it though, all I could think about was waking up tomorrow, driving back to my college, and heading to the gym. As my family watched the ball drop at midnight all I could do was wish to myself that I would get huge this year. But, after hanging around for a little while longer, it was time for bed. As I woke up the next day I had one of the worst headaches I’ve ever had, and my body felt so heavy. I was so annoyed that I might have to miss my first day at the gym, but it was honestly so hard to get out of bed and drag myself to the bathroom. Then, it hit me…as I looked in the mirror I almost didn’t recognize who was looking back at me. The first thing I noticed was that I was taller and now hosting a sexy and strong jawline. But then, I looked down, to find that my shirt and pants were almost bursting at the seams. My jaw almost fell to the ground…I couldn’t believe what was happening. The first thing I did was start to rub my right bicep through my shirt. Without even flexing I could feel that my bicep was now rock solid muscle. But then as I flexed it I heard my shirt rip, and through that I could see the giant bicep popping out through the sleeve. Amazed, I proceeded to do a double bicep pose in front of the mirror, which was too much for my shirt to handle. Drool trickled down my chin as I watched the shreds of my shirt fall to the ground, revealing my new muscled body in all of its glory. Along with my huge biceps I now had massive pecs, which I couldn’t help but bounce. First the right one and then the left one, and then together, again and again…fuck I was so turned on. Then, I focused on my abs, abs that looked like they had been chiseled out of marble. I had to play with each and every one of my six new abs giving each on personal attention. I couldn’t believe that this was my new body, the body of a god among men. Unable to control myself any further I ripped my pants off, revealing tree trunk like legs and a dick begging to be taken care of. I took my right hand and started to frantically stroke my cock as my other hand rubbed all of my muscles. I began by flexing my abs and pecs while my hand felt up every corner of my upper body. Then, as a started to moan and breath heavily, I went to massage my other bicep that was expanding as I stroked faster…fuck I’m close. As I started to play with my giant legs my cock released endless streams of cum all over the bathroom floor. I was experiencing some greatest pleasure in my life, but I needed more, my cock needed more. I ran back into my room and as I looked around I grabbed a pillow and jumped onto the bed. Fucking a pillow had always been a go too way for me to masturbate, but with my new muscles it was a completely different experience. As I knelt down on the bed with my amazingly muscled ass sticking up, I placed the pillow in front of my dick. Then I just went at it, uncontrollably fucking that pillow as hard as I could. With every thrust I went faster and faster, harder and harder, deeper and deeper. The entire bed shaking and hitting the wall in rhythm as my cock went in and out of the pillow. My entire body flexing as the sweat made each of my giant muscles glisten. My pecs, my biceps, my abs…wow I must have looked like a fucking sex god. I felt more powerful then I had ever before, so strong that the pillow could barely even handle a quarter of my new found strength. I shortly realized that the pillow was beginning to rip apart in my hands. I laughed to myself a little but the thought of not knowing my own strength was honestly turning me on so much. As I started to use a third of strength to fuck the pillow the feathers started to burst out all over the bed. I had been such a weakling before this and now just a fraction of my strength—my own godly physique—actually fucked a pillow to shreds. But I needed to finish, and this pillow was not going to do it anymore. Throwing the remaining pieces of the pillow off the bed I leaned over to my nightstand and grabbed some lotion. Feeling up my rock hard pecs and rubbing my nipples, I started to aggressively stroke my cock. Getting close I moved to flexing my huge sweaty muscles as I rubbed my dick faster and harder. My moaning and heavy breathing got even louder as I continually brought myself closer and closer to the edge. Before I knew it my cock was exploding with even more cum then in the bathroom again and again and again. Once it looked like my dick was done I fell back onto my bed dripping with sweat. After such an ordeal I thought I would be exhausted but it looked like this body could take far more than what I just did. As I laid on the bed imagining everything sexy and terrible naughty thing I could do with my body I realized that this was only half of my New Year’s Resolution. It was time to get up and give this body the training at the gym that it deserved. I needed to get even more ripped, even stronger, and even more of a fucking god. I quickly got up, took a shower, and put on some workout clothes, which barely fit over my massive muscles but looked sexy as fuck on me. What took me even longer was cleaning up the huge mess that this real man’s body of mine had made, but I honestly felt like I had a few more rounds in me. With my family still fast asleep, I got into the car to head to the gym for the workout of a lifetime. But I couldn’t help but think about what everyone was going to say about my new body. It was time to show off, have fun, and be the sex machine that I was meant to be. I was especially interested in showing off to my nerdy friends who didn’t believe me…oh were they in for a surprise. As I began to drive away all I could do was laugh to myself as I made my monster sized pecs bounce up and down through my shirt, stretching it to its limits. God, this semester was going to be insane…
  14. Mikeytron

    Bitten by the Growth Bug

    I've been having this kind of recurring fantasy in my waking hours the last week or so, so I figured I might as well write it out. Here's part one. More parts to come as I have the chance to add them. This is just set-up, so far. Once the growth gets going, I'm intending to take it pretty far. You didn't know him that well. He was the guy whose eye you sometimes caught. Glances exchanged in the food court in the basement of the office block where you both worked. Maybe three or four times a year - the slender guy with the cute face and the good hair and the nice little butt just curving out the back of those skinny-cut grey trousers, you'd think. The hot guy with the widow's peak and the jutting pecs whose wide shoulders are putting a hurt on the seams of that dress shirt, he'd think. Mark, you think his name is. You spoke once, in the elevator. Miraculously alone together, briefly, fleetingly. You traded names, a remark about the goddamn weather. Then - "I've seen you around." "Yeah, I've seen you around, too." That flush of heat where you both know you want to dive in, suck face, rip the clothes off your heaving bodies, nail that fucking twink to the mirrored wall with your steel-hard cock, but it's 1:00 on a Tuesday and there's meetings to attend, conference calls to join, quarterly reports to be revised. That kind of bullshit. But your eyes meet, and both of you know. And then the elevator dings and the doors open and the spell is broken and dull crushing ordinary life resumes. But the sexual energy flashes in the distance even still, like far-off heat lightning on a dry summer night. At least, that's what you tell yourself. Every now and then, that inner voice of doubt - Derek, settle down you're full of shit. Well - maybe so. But a fantasy's a fantasy, right? And then one day he comes over, in that damn soulless could-be-anywhere foodcourt, and asks if he can sit across from you. Well - naturally - you say yeah. Kid's nervous, you can tell. "Kid." He's maybe 25, 26. Just two or three years younger than you. But he's running his hands through his coiffure, he's fidgeting. You decide to cut to the chase - why let him twist in the wind? "You gonna ask me out, bud?" He looks shocked, but not offended. "Well, uh, kind of, actually. I was wondering... um. Your body... shit." "Yeah, it's a pretty good body," you say, leaning back a little, feeling the fabric of your shirt stretch and strain over your lats as you rearrange your posture. 5'11", 210, lean enough for abs. "I'll bet it is," Mark blurts, face flushing. "No, damn, I'm doing this all wrong." "Relax, bud," you say, not actually wanting him to relax. You enjoy how flustered he is. "Your body," he resumes. "You obviously know your way around a gym. I want.... I want to bulk up. I don't mean a little. I mean, at least as much as you, maybe more. I know I'm skinny as hell, I know it must sound ridiculous. But I thought maybe you could point me in the right direction, tell me which gym to go to, what trainer to hire, I don't know. No one I know is into it. They all think muscles are creepy and gross." You smirk, not unkindly, and lean in close, let your voice shift into something a bit more bedroom-y. "But you don't." "I don't," Mark gulps. "Fuck, man, I'm so nervous, just saying it." You consider him. He's probably your height, but he can't weigh more than 155 lbs. His clothes are well-cut, and you can see the suggestion of a good structure underneath. Good bones to build on. "I'll tell you what, Mark. You come to the gym with me this weekend, and I'll give you a little intro, just as a favour to a friend. You definitely wanna work with a trainer. It's expensive but hey, you're in this same corporate hell as me, right, you can probably throw a few thousand a year after this, right? I think I know the guy for you...."
  15. MegaMassiveMuscleMonster

    They Said I WasToo Big

    "Too big,” they’d said. Lose about 25 lbs and you’d place a lot higher. Tighten it up and come in smaller and more toned, and you’d have a good shot at winning. Those were the judges critiques at last year’s Olympia. It was a shame that women’s bodybuilding was so...so.... lame? Wasn’t the point of bodybuilding to get BIGGER muscles? Why have a heavyweight division if they’re only going to say I’m TOO BIG? Wasn’t that why they created bikini and physique? For those cute little muscle Barbies? Not for us musclebound women intent on being the best. And oh boy, do I intend on being the BEST, the BIGGEST, the MOST MUSCULAR woman alive... Screw the IFBB and everyone at the Olympia. I don’t need them or their contests to know who I am. “Too big.” You’re damn straight. They had no idea just how right they were.. I’ll show them too big alright, just wait until they get a load of this bulky muscle monster now! When I placed at that very bottom last year, I admit...I became deeply depressed. All the hard work, all the blood sweat and tears for naught. Did the judges not know how hard I lifted? How insanely strict my diet was? Did they not appreciate my time and dedication? So much of my life was devoted to winning, only to find out that I was the absolute worst competitor in their eyes? Well screw them! I built muscle so easily. I’d always tried to my hardest to be lean and well proportioned. But screw that, not anymore! My new goal is to gain as much muscle as possible. And let me tell ya, nobody packs it on like me! I am a muscle-building MACHINE! Heck, at 18 years old I had 18 inch biceps, 20 inches at 21, and at last year’s Olympia my arms were 23 inches. I was 33 then...I’ll be turning 34 the day before the next Olympia. Trust me when I say, my arms will be AT LEAST 34 inches. But is that my ultimate goal? NAH! My goals are so much loftier now than they have ever been- impossible for any other man or woman, even with drugs. Am I insane? Am I insane to want this, to add so much muscle? Yes. Yes I am. My entire life has been a balance between my family and my passion for bodybuilding. My husband and daughter are my number one priority. And they always will be. They both could see how devastated I was. I didn’t eat right, or lift at all for 3 months. I was sleeping 15 hours a day. My husband told me to do whatever it takes to feel myself again. Whatever it takes to get my revenge. Thank God for that man. He is so supportive (although we all know he's a muscle-lover so it's a win win for him). I won’t let them down. It was 3 months ago I decided to get absolutely massive. It only took a month to get back to where I was before the loss. Another month to get to my current 350 lbs of rock hard muscle. Like I said, I gain muscle so easily. I still have 6 months before the next Olympia. Over the course of 1 month I went from 200 lbs to 220 lbs. I went from 220 lbs to 350 lbs in the span of 2 months. And still 6 more months to go? Yikes. They said I was too big. Just wait. It was 3 months out from Olympia when my husband purposed steroids. I've never done drugs in my life. Hell, I barley even drank alcohol. We both shared a passion for a healthy lifestyle. I scoffed initially, but kept the idea in the back of my mind. Would it really be so bad if started doping? Everyone else did it, and it was a point of pride for me that I never did. But this was about revenge. This was about getting even, settling the score. Showing them JUST how big TOO BIG really was... Two months out. Last week I had broke the smith machine in my house. I'd been doing seated military presses, just some volume work, light weight- high reps, when my daughter snuck up behind me and started tickling me. I inadvertently pressed up on the 500 lbs too quickly and bent the whole machine. When my husband came running in to investigate the awful noise, I just shrugged my gargantuan basketball-sized shoulders and grinned sheepishly. There really wasn't enough weight in my home gym to challenge me anymore, so no biggie! My brother was in the Navy and had managed to procure some anchor chains from a battleship. An early birthday present he'd said. I was initially nervous, I didn't want him to get in trouble! But he just pretended to zip his lips and rolled his eyes. He's a goofball but I love him. Ironically he did end up in trouble when he returned back to his ship. His superiors weren't happy when he told them he broke three ribs in a "fight." I might have hugged him a tad too tightly. Anyway...back to my workouts. My husband had found an old warehouse his company owned, and combined with the chains and some construction equipment we bought, I was really able to let loose! What were already unheard of gains were now well past inhuman, and they were only increasing more and more. My body was a temple of pure muscle mass and strength. I'd also started pills and injections. An old friend who was a doctor had moved to Brazil, and he’d designed a new muscle-building cocktail specifically tailored to my genetic profile. No negative side-effects: no hair-growth, no acne, no voice changes or facial changes of any kind. It did however greatly increase my aggression. One day, a neighbor had come snooping around to investigate why there was loud banging and rumbling coming from a supposedly-abandoned warehouse. I had barreled across the warehouse, knocking over equipment and flinging anything in my path. My neck veins popped as I ripped the door right off its hinges and tore it in half, spit flying in his face as I roared at him for interrupting. Luckily my husband was there to calm me down. Because I was about to run straight through the concrete wall and go tear the guys house off its foundation. Rampage adverted! Today is the day. The day I take revenge on those ignorant judges. The day I take my rightful place as the best bodybuilder the world has ever know. I entered the auditorium from the rear, just as all the puny contestants were being called out. The main door would attract to much attention...not that I was worried about THAT, I just wanted to scare everyone at once. The fire exit was locked, but I made quick work of it with one quick inward push from my 42 inch forearms. The door was much too narrow- my traps alone wouldn't fit through the standard 32-inch width door. The crowd was cheering so loud they must not have heard the noise as I barged straight through the wall with my obscenely muscle-packed delts. Or the noise and shaking as I rumbled down the hallway. I had been wider than I was tall for weeks. Not hard when you're only 5'3". My 8 foot wide shoulders smashed up against either side. My legs were so massively thick, pumped and musclebound that I had to swing my whole body around to move, causing my shoulders and arms to gouge into the walls and absolutely demolish them. When I got to the stage entrance, a big burly security guard spotted me and tried to stop me. Now, a 6'6" 300 lbs man's size would normally intimidate most people. Haha! I was double his weight...TWO MONTHS AGO. I was easily tipping 950 lbs at this point and growing every minute. Those roids had done wonders! Doing one arm curls with a multi-hundred pound anchor chain attached to a Ford Escort had pushed my arms well beyond 120" and they were freakishly cut and vascular. When the guard put his hand on my chest to stop me, I simply lost it. Anger turned to pure rage as I started clenching my fists- how dare he try and stop me, the ULTIMATE beefcake from her destiny. Freaky veins turned nightmarish as all the steroids began to mix with my hatred for all things Olympia. The 300lb man didn't stand a chance as I walked right through him. The impact of my bulldozer-benching pectorals effortlessly sent the guard flying 15 feet out onto the brightly lit stage. He landed on top of the contestants, knocking a few to their feet. The commotion silenced the cheering crowd. As the MC turned to see the disturbance he nearly fainted at the sight of my giga-mass. My extreme tan contrasted perfectly with my bright white Nike Shox, red bikini top and booty shorts. I looked like a UFC ring-girl who absorbed the Hulk and then overdosed on Human Growth Hormone. Contestants eyed me with both awe and fear. The judges called for more security- two men similar to the first came rushing towards me. Something primal in me snapped as I grabbed each man by the throat and quickly threw them into the crowd below me. I stomped to the edge of the stage and leered down at the judges with a sadistic grin and evil glint in my smoky eyes. My heart began to race as steroid-filled blood coursed through my veins, compounding with my intense rage for the biggest pump of my life. "Look at me now! Am I too big for you now?" I roared, cranking down into THE most muscular pose. I reached down a hoisted up two of the judges by their shirt collars. Spit flying in their faces, I roared, "Look at the monster you've created, this is all thanks to you!" I obsessively began doing bicep curls with their pathetic bodies, pumping my biceps faster and faster. Their weight was far too light and only added to my intense need to make them feel my wrath! Both judges wet their pants and lost consciousness. Angered even more, I hurled the two bodies out into the stands, the impact surely crippling the judges. Seeing them lying their motionless fueled my lust for revenge, for more dominance and violence! Glaring out at the world over my multi-foot deep pectoral cleavage, I grabbed the microphone stand next to me and pulled from either end. The stretched metal sheared in half from the brute power and strength of my bare hands. Audience members and contestants screamed and ran. "Yes! Run! Be scared! Be VERY SCARED!!! You are about to witness the rise of a goddess! The rise of a MUSCLE MONSTER! I am a massively pumped-up muscle building powerhouse, and I. WILL. HAVE. MY. REVENGE!" Swinging my behemoth body I hurled the twisted metal shards at the rear exits, shattering windows and creating more chaos in the audience as they struggled to exit. With an earthshaking rumble, I leaped down from the stage- my now 1,200+ lbs weight cracking the concrete floor like egg shells and sending tremors that registered on the Richter scale. With an animalistic grunt, I overturned the judges table like it was cardboard, sending it careening end over end. Eyeing the carnage and destruction with equal parts glee and fury, my attention fell on my ultimate prize: the stage. Who knows how heavy a full stage is? No seriously...I want to know. There had to have been at least a full ton just in the weight of the dozen or so competitors still on stage. Punching my hands through the wood paneling, I found grip on a metal I-beam running the length of the stage. Roaring like a possessed demon, I began to lift the stage. Nothing. How dare this sorry excuse of human engineering defy me! Tensing my monolithic arms, shoulders and legs, I funneled even more horrific power into my insane musclebound body and began to heave up on the structure. Ever so slowly, more and more cracking could be heard and I redoubled my efforts- pouring even MORE god-shaming , titanic, monstrous strength into my incredibly pumped and still-growing muscles. "You thought I was too big before? HA!!! You think I'm big now? Well just wait, I'm only getting started! Mama Pump is here to show you all true power and mass!" With a horrible shearing noise, a large piece of stage splintered and broke off in my hands. After all, it wasn't built to be picked up in one piece...even if someone was actually strong enough to do so. "Pathetic! So weak!" With a maniacal laugh I beat my chest like King Kong and screamed at the futility of fragile steel. My muscles bloating and expanding and pumping bigger and bigger with every huff and puff. Fleeing audience members tripped as the auditoriums foundation shook from the force of my massively overpowered arms slamming into my wrecking-ball sized pecs. They had said I was too big. There was no such thing. A monster had been born, and I was going to keep pumping and growing until every single one of them regretted ever crossing me.
  16. MegaMassiveMuscleMonster

    Mega-Massive Muscle Meghan

    First time posting content on this forum... Thad this story floating around on other sites for a few years now. It’s still relatively short because I don’t often have the motivation to WRITE erotica, if you know what I mean CH. 1 "Graaarrr, I need to grow BIGGGEERR!" CLASH. Two 500 lbs dumbbells flew across the fully stocked basement gym, cracking the concrete walls. "Get in here NOW babe," bellows Meghan as she slowly raises her massive 750 lbs muscled bulk off a now busted bench. Her husband Nate rushes down the reinforced concrete and steel staircase, carrying a tray of hypodermic needles. Steroids. Lots and lots of steroids. No sooner did he reach his wife, when she flexed a massive most muscular pose, roaring like a lioness as her enormous upper body exploded, her mass swelling to three times it's 'relaxed' state. Meghan's outburst had its desired effect, as her husband's erection grew. "Hurry up and inject me Natey poo, your giga-huge muscle monster of a wife needs her juice if she wants to GROW even more MASSSIVVEEE!" Nate grins, and begins the injections, one in each muscle group. As the highest quality anabolic drugs flood his wife's blood stream, Nate asks, "Do you think you've gained any inches on your arms since earlier?" Turning to the full length mirror behind her, the former Sports Illustrated bikini model appraised her muscle bound physique. Smirking, she slowly lifts her muscle bound arms to vertical, her exercise ball shoulders crushing her ears. Even unflexed, her thick, meaty, golden tanned triceps dipped 2 whole feet below her elbow. Without bending her arms, Meghan clenches her dainty, feminine fists, causing her ripped, bulging masses of pure female muscle to rise into arms 85" around. Meghan purrs in sexual delight, warning Nate of the impending erotic explosion of flesh. Like a crane, she gradually cranks her arms up, every inch her fists move upwards causing a half doze inches of solid beefy bicep to rise. Her rugby sized forearms finally collide with her biceps at a 60 degree angle. Over 3 feet of brawny bicep, combined with her massive triceps make her majestic arms 6 feet tall, far above his 5'8" wife’s head. "Measure them now sweetie!" Nate rushes to get a step ladder and measuring tape, his erection ready to burst. Standing on the ladder, Nate can't help but feel tiny next to the beastly mass of Meg. Standing 6'1, at 275lbs, Nate is no small man. A bodybuilder himself, the former college lacrosse player, and current U.S Marine Colonel was used to being in control. Placing his large tough hands on his wife’s surprisingly smooth silky skin, and feeling the steel underneath sent his control out the window. Your arms are 230" baby girl! "That it she says?" Meg pouts her luscious lips, and shakes her head causing her long golden locks to become messy. "I can't look small for my man. Just look at my pathetic little chicken wings, I'm withering away for christ sake. Hold on, let me pump some." As the uber buff Meghan walks to her weight rack, her near half-ton weight cracks the floor, each step a mini-quake. Falling to the floor from the ladder, Nate looks up at the 7 ft wide back of his goddess wife. Unable to turn her head, Meg blows him a kiss in the mirror, flashing a sultry, movie star smile. "Want to watch me GROW?...." CH. 2 In 2013, Meghan Wakefield was a sophomore marine biology major at UNC Chapel Hill. A bright young woman, with devastating beauty, and a bombshell body, she was a true southern belle, at the top of the world. She was captain of the cheering team and Class President. Her long blonde hair, perky C breasts, big bright green eyes, and long athletic legs easily got her a modeling career with Sports Illustrated. She ended u meeting Nate over Spring break 2014, in Florida. Nate, a handsome country boy, and a Harvard law student, was in town for his lacrosse teams championship. Little did they know that they're lives would be forever changed. CH. 3 Laying on the floor of his custom built basement gym, Nate had the perfect view of his perfect woman. Not four feet from him was the most massively muscular, most insanely jacked female. Make that the most muscular HUMAN ever. Only two years ago, Meg had been a fit, long legged bikini model; what stood before him now was a monstrous musclebound goddess, of giga-proportions. At a mere 5'8" tall Meg was at least 11 feet wide from exercise ball sized shoulder to exercise ball sized shoulder. Her aircraft carrier back alone was 7 feet wide. "Honeybuuun, whatchya doin?" drawled Meghan. "Quit daydreaming and pay attention. Y'all don't want to miss the show do you?" Taking slow, deliberate and quaking steps, Meg went to the far end of her dumbbell rack, her oversized oil drum thighs forcing her to waddle. "Let's see, those light 500 lbs single arm bicep curls barely warmed me up. I got to go REALLY heavy to impress my big strong Marine." Picking up a 700 lbs dumbbell in each hand, Meg turns toward the mirror and starts repping out alternating hammer curls at a blistering pace. "Oh yeah baby, ohhh yeah! LOOK AT ME! Have you ever seen arms this fucking huge? Oh god am I hot, like I AM SOOO MASSIVE I FRIGGEN LOVE HOW THICK I AM!" Rarrrrrrg! With a ear spitting roar, Meg rips out 1 more curl and with massive power hurls the quarter ton weights at the wall, embedding the steel two feet into the concrete walls."I am THE MUSCLE GODDESS! Look at these biceps, they must weigh 150lbs each! Your muscle freak wifey gained 50lbs in the last 15 minutes alone!" With a coy grin, knowing it will rial his wife up, Nate says, "Babe your arms are pretty big, but your chest and legs look a little small..." With a smoldering look in her gorgeous green eyes, the 800 lbs female behemoth growled, "I'm just getting started." CH. 4-6 So swole. So thick, so wide, so meaty. So...fucking. Sexy. Meghan was staring vainly at herself in the mirror waiting for her husband to come back with her next round of steroids. God I love juice, thought Meghan, almost as much as I love muscles. Hearing the basement door, she quickly clenched her glutes, giving Nate a spectacular view of her ass. Each cheek was the size of medicine ball. "Bet you could bounce a quarter off this ass huh babe." "You could bounce a bowling ball off that butt Meg," smiled Nate, as he began injecting the steroids into his wife's glutes, hamstrings, and calves. As Nate bent down to inject her calves, Meg suddenly raised up on her dainty feet. Nate had always been a leg man. Meghan had legs alright. Flexing down hard, Meg's calf kept getting thicker and thicker, until it was easily bigger than a basket ball, bulging a foot and a half from the back of her leg, and so wide that even with her legs spread, her calves rubbed against each other. Knowing she had him now, Meg cooed, "Just wait until I actually do some lifting before you cum all over my beyond huge calve." " But let me pump up my sexy little quads first okay pumpkin?" The mere act of dropping back down to her feet caused a massive shudder to rattle the gym. Walking to the squat rack was more difficult than it should have been, given the insane mass of her planet shaking quads. "Ohhh wow does that feel good. I just love knowing my weight alone cracks reinforced concrete. Imagine what would happen if I actually tried, imagine the POWER I posses. Taking her place in the squat rack, Meg unracked the bar and raised it to her shoulders. She was so wide that Nate had to specially build the entire set up, and the bar was made of 4" diameter titanium. Every inch of the bar was filled with 200 lbs weights, bending the super strong bar. 20 plates total plus the 200 lbs bar meant Meg was about to squat 4200 lbs...Jeesh, thats as much as my truck Nate realized. "Hey stud, get a load of this." Meg was so built, she couldn't even reach proper form, her ultra huge hamstrings and ass slamming into her lower legs preventing her from going lower. "2 tons is sooo taxing on my tiny little legs Nate. Can you 'cum' spot me pleeasse." As he went behind her, Meg yelled, Never mind, just kidding! And proceeded to push the weight up over her head, holding it there, and with a massive grunt, heaved the entire 4200 pound bar up, sending it through the ceiling and into the next story of the house. "Dammit, there is no weight in this house capable of quenching my thirst for pump. There is no weight on EARTH that my genetically superior mega muscle won't lift. I am UNSTOPPABLE!" Nate was worried now, he'd never seen her this way. "Baby I am the strongest woman in the universe!" "Just think about my power, my strength. All I want is MORE MASS. MORE POWER. MORE MUSCLE! Measure my legs before I work my beastly chest!" Slightly unnerved at the dominating tone, Nate grabbed the tape.He literally couldn't fir his hand between Meg's thighs, there was just that much beef. Each redwood thigh was 5 feet wide and almost as thick as he was. " 270" quads must be a record hun!" "Hey babe. Measure my calves before I squish you like a pancake between these record breakers." "115" calves! Holy shit!" From his knees, Nate looked up to try and see his wife's expression, but could only see her chest. Meghan suddenly laughed, her entire body swelling with new found beef as she inhaled more and more air. "The power the strength, the mass! What a rush!" she screams as she plows a fist into wall. Nate falls on his back, now afraid. His wife just put a 3 foot deep crater into walls built to survive a nuclear explosion. Lifting her foot, Megan slams it down between Nate's legs, sending cement flying with a massive boom as her leg is buried to her knee. "Take a good look at this monster leg you skinny little runt. See the size difference? You are NOTHING compared to me! I could tear you to shreds!" Meg strides to the weight rack again, sinking deep into the floor with every step."This will blow your mind!" Bending over, she grabs the rack, and LIFTS THE ENTIRE THING UP TO HER WAIST. "See my power? Just think what 300" arms can do! No, watch what they can do!" With an orgasmic roar, Meg begins curling the 3 ton rack to her chest. Her now uber pumped biceps only manage 6" before they meet her now truck tire forearms. "You think this is heavy? You think this is as big as I can get? You think I'm fucking big now ?" " Well I'm going to school you in the personification of ENORMOUS!" Taking a deep breath that expands her mass by 50%, she violently throws the rack into the wall, causing massive destruction and shacking the entire foundation. Flexing a jaw dropping crab pose, Meg orders Nate to get the rest of her steroid supply."Got to get bigger bae, the only thing I want is pure mass. Pure muscle. I must weigh 1,000 lbs, but the body you see before you now is a 90 lbs weakling compared to whats next." Throwing her head back in ecstasy , Meg roars, "I WILL GROW EVEN BIGGER!" Shit, shit, shit, Nate mutters to himself as he sprints up the basement stairs at a break neck pace. Bursting into the kitchen, he races towards the double door fridge where Meghan's steroids are kept. Might as well grab it all, he says to himself, as he picks up 22 syringes of a secret, experimental steroid designed by the DOD. Nate cringes as he here's more concrete crack; knowing the bill to repair today's damage will put a decent dent in his savings. I guess that's the price to pay for having the worlds hottest wife. Turning to the door he looks down toward the end of the hall where the dust is still settling from a 4,200 lbs weight shooting through the floor. Nate almost falls down the stairs as the entire house rumbles and shakes. "Rarrgggg! HAH, puny steel! Feel the power of my super pumped muscles!" Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Nate sees Meghan flexing over what was previously the dumbbell rack, only now it looks like an accordion, shoved deep into the foundation. Dear lord, it took 6 of my men to to lug that down here last month... "Honey bunches! Oh look, more juice! Is that for me? Ohh, you shouldn't have!" "Look honey, look at that pathetic piece of crap you call steel. Weaker than butter if you ask me Get to the injections, I just love how I feel right now. Like, I'm literally 4 times the size of you! My strength is superhero shaming, but my size is the real turn on." Raising her arms out like the goddess she is, Meg whispered, "Make me grow my king." Nate's more than happy to oblige. Five minutes later, he takes a step back, stepping around the now empty syringes, kind of looks like a heroin addict lives here, he thinks. Almost like she could read his mind, Meg coos, "I'm a muscle obsessed, steroid junkie addicted to getting bigger, gaining more and more massive muscles is all I think about. I'm by far the largest bodybuilder history has ever known. My bicep alone is bigger than Jay Cutler's entire body. And just think babe, I'm not done. No. Not even close. In fact, look at this." Stepping on the heavy duty scale in the corner; that he'd bought from the local zoo (to weigh elephants, rhinos etc...), she sent the numbers on the screen reeling. 700lbs. 850lbs. 1000lbs. 1200lbs. Good lord, Nate mumbles. Finally, the readout stops at 2050 pounds."Just think Nate. Your mega massive muscle wifey weighs over a TON! And I just took even more roids! Grrrg! Roooaaar! More! Yeeeess, I can feel myself growing, I can feel myself getting heavier! Just flexing is adding serious mass. I AM POWER! LOOK AT ME NATEY POO, I JUST GAINED 100 LBS FROM FLEXING MY ARMS! You better run for your life, because this house is comin down y'all." CH. 7 It was approaching dawn when the entire gated community of Orchard Heights shook to its foundations. Raaaarrggg! Mother fucker get bigger!!!! Megan bellowed as she again slammed the mangled remains of Nate’s trucks together. She’d been repeating this motion for well over 4 hours now, trying to work her monstrosity of a chest. Meghan was getting angrier and angrier with ever “rep” as each 10 foot wide pectoral would swell immensely and crash into each other with enough force to create a sonic boom. Her chest stuck out 14 feet in front her so it was impossible to do a normal bench press. That and her biceps which were each pushing 6 feet WIDE and even thicker. Her bicep alone was almost 200” flexed. Her tricep was 2/3 bigger!!!! Her muscles were not ripped, or shredded, or any other word that could describe a human being. She’d long surpassed that species. The definition between muscle groups was insane. Sickening. Her shoulders were so jacked that when she raised them a mere 6 inches, her head was at risk of being sheared right off. She liked the pressure though. It wouldn’t be impossible to create diamonds if you placed a lump of coal between her striations. In her hands, she had taken two military hummers of Nate’s, grabbing the bumper of each one and swinging them in together to simulate the pec deck motion. Only she was single handled swinging a 7,700 lb armored vehicle by its bumper. (The US Army took some pride in that engineering marvel) Nate had once seen a strong man take one end of an Olympic barbell and raise it straight out in front of him. He held it horizontally with one hand for maybe minute before his arm shook and he dropped it. The exercise worked stabilizers and forearms etc.. Meghan was doing a similar movement. With 8 plus tons. Meg’s bright white and pink, size 6 Nike Shoxs and thick pink hooters slouch socks were planted firmly on the pavement, which itself was no longer very firm, considering a woman who weighed more than an African elephant was pressing down on it with immense strength and power. Her insanely tight white yoga pants that could cover a circus tent, despite barley serving on her, were stretched so tight that her deeply tanned skin shown through completely. The military had wanted to design a new material similar to Spandex, that would be bullet proof and tear resistant. When Nate had heard about it, he figured Meg would be the perfect test for the material. Her monster quads and hamstrings were slowly but surely bulging so massively that the thread was coming unstitched. So much for that, better luck next time DOD. Freakishly inhumanly thick traps throbbed far above her head, they peaked more than a yard above her hair. Her shoulders, pecs, and traps already enveloping her head, each rep smooshing her almost to point of strangulation and blocking her entire view. All she could see when her arms were raised was her own musculature... and as far as she was concerned, there simply wasn’t enough of it. With her arms straight out holding the trucks, her triceps dipped low. Hanging like a side of beef was incorrect...her triceps were bigger than the whole cow! Hanging so low they merged with her “wide as a barn door back. Once again, misleading because her back was bigger than a whole barn! Much bigger! Her back was pushing 30 feet wide at this point. That’s 360 inches. 914 cm. Bigger than an entire Mr. Olympia lineup combined. And then multiplied by two! With her biceps peaking over her head and her triceps dropping so low they hit her knees (they literally pressed down into her massively exaggerated wide hips and quads) she would take a deep breath and then tense her enormous chest muscles, bringing her arms as close together as possible and really squeezing her pecs. The sight was ridiculous. The noise was deafening. The air sizzled with the heat of her raw sexual, beastly power and mind warping size. Sweat glistened and dripped flowing down the huge cuts in the chest muscles, turning to steam in the brisk morning air of New England. Pure raw power. Pure sex. Pure MUSCLE. The quiet gated suburb of Orchard Heights was alive with the sound, sights and smells of Meghan Wakefield erotically pumping her massive muscles. Held in her deceptively dainty well manicured hands were two military humvees weighing 4 tons each. “Fucking look at me and tremble you scrawny bitches, look at this power this size! MY power! MY size! Im unstoppable!” I AM POWER! I AM MUSCLE! I’m the most insanely pumped up, super humanly strong, mega-ultra-super-heavy weight bodybuilder! I am the most muscular living thing to ever exist or ever will! Worship me as I obsessively pump myself even more massive!” Meghan roared, to nobody in particular, but yet for all the world to here. Of course, the neighborhood had been evacuated hours ago when the “earthquake” struck. Or at least that was what the news was calling it. Technically, there WAS an earthquake, or better yet, a “Megha-quake” if you will. After destroying the basement, Meghan’s roid- induced mania and wild, driven desire to bulk up went into overdrive. Against Nates adamant pleas to calm down, Meg had pulverized the entire basement and house when she tried to exit the basement. Walking up the stairs proved unsuccessful as her giga-weight was so heavy she completely crushed the heavily reinforced concrete and steel stairs when she stepped on them. The futility of the construction had enraged Meghan and she hulk smashed the stairs into crumbling bits. With hellfire in her eyes, Meghan had turned full on to Nate and flexed an ab and thigh pose so huge that her quads and chest actually knocked him over. Roaring with spit flying, she’d proceeded to crank her arms up and down over and over again, squeezing and flexing her monolithic traps and shoulders until they were bright red. Then she spied the old weight rack in the corner where Nate kept his weights. Giggling like a crazed school girl, Meg pounded her way to the rack and proceeded to upend it with one arm. Maneuvering her other arm into position, she hurled it across the room like a soccer player might do with a ball. A steal I-beam floor hoist was torn from the ceiling and sparked another idea. “Babe, I’ve always hated that you built this house with such roomy ceilings, it really makes me feel short. But I think I know how to even the score. Watch my fucking power babe! Meg ripped the I beam the rest of the way out of the ceiling and started swinging it over her head like a club, tearing through the floor and utterly demolishing the rest of the house. Nate cowered in the corner to avoid being hit by all of his nice things that were now falling hazardously around him from upstairs. To say he was scared shitless at this point was an understatement. Meg had gone completely off the rails and was a literal ton of roid-raging muscle and fury. (If not more). Who are we kidding, it was way, way WAY more. At some point Nate must have lost consciousness from fear/arousal because when he woke up, he was covered in concrete dust surrounded by remnants of what was once his beautiful home. Meghan was no where in sight but he could hear her animalistic, predatory grunts from the front yard. Nate quickly pulled out his phone to contact his security team at the Pentagon. Things were going bad fast. Worriedly wondering why Meg was grunting, he’d no sooner heard his office secretary answer when the quake hit. Knowing better, Nate wobbled over to the massive hole in the basement wall to see Meghan standing in the driveway with his Porsche flattened at her feet. She’d managed to jump (who knows how high) and came down like the hand of god on his prized 911. Still on the phone, his secretary was going crazy, “Oh my God, Sir, are you okay what’s going on omg!” “Wake up SecDef and alert Homeland and the President... not sure how this will end. And I want this area under an immediate mandatory evacuation order.” Now recovered from his shock, Nate was beginning to get royally pissed. His million dollar home was destroyed. His $150 super-charged Porsche was now a candy apple red pancake and he was pretty sure his insurance didn’t cover “acts of enraged muscle monster?” “Meghan Marie, calm down right now!” Nate bellowed her middle name in anger. (Maybe yelling at your girlfriend who weighs more than your HOUSE was a bad idea in hindsight.) Not bothering to turn around, Meghan’s voice effortlessly boomed, “you are an insignificant RUNT compared to my awesome godly power and I could literally rip you into pieces. I won’t because I love you obviously but it would be this easy.” She picked up the flattened Porsche and ripped it in half like paper, her biceps and forearms bulging and growing and thickening even further. “To make it up to your goddess you will worship at my feet and tell me how huge I am.” It had been around that time that Marines from Nate’s unit arrived and evacuated the street. The neighbors were being debriefed and fed the official story of “just an earthquake.” Of course, 2.0 earthquakes weren’t totally uncommon in New England but still.
  17. Part 1 Here's the first part of a story I quickly decided to whip up. It's mostly setup for later parts, but hopefully you'll enjoy it. As always, feedback is always appreciated. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Do you know how much it sucks losing your dream job? I poured my heart and soul into that company!" I say, words slurred by alcohol. My complaints are directed to the bartender behind the counter as I stare at my drink. "Hell, I moved to this city just for this job, I don't know anyone here." I look up at the bartender who is polishing a mug nonchalantly. His bearded face shows a hint of a smile as he raises a single eyebrow. I've been coming to this bar weekly since I moved here in the summer, but more recently I've been coming daily. I just barely notice as I slowly begin swaying from side to side in my chair. "Fine, I guess I know you now, but that's not the point! The point is that after just 3 months they tell me that they need to downsize AND I just so happen to be on the cut list! What am I going to do-" I'm cut off by the sensation of stomach acid coming up my throat. I cover my mouth with a hand and sit still waiting for the feeling to pass. Joe, the bartender, just laughs. "I think you've had too much to drink... again. You've been complaining about this for five days in a row now. As for what you're going to do now, that's simple. Get a new job. Luckily," Joe walks a few steps behind him to the bar wall and points to a Help Wanted sign on the wall, "we just so happen to be hiring." I begin shaking my head in protest, but quickly realize that sudden movements aren't doing me any favors. "I can't work in a bar, I'm a journalist! Besides the fact that I have no experience, it's not really my thing. I can't just-" I'm cut off once again by another wave of nausea. I let out a low groan. The room feels like it's spinning. "Alright, alright, get a move on to the restroom before you make a mess of my bar. And at least give the job some thought before you flat out deny it." Joe said with a frown. He then swipes my half empty cup and pours it out. I nod slightly and jog/trip my way to the restroom. The restroom is empty when I enter. I run over to a sink first to splash cold water on my face. I'd rather avoid vomiting all together if I can. The shock of the cold water grounds me somewhat. I stand with my hands gripping the sides of the sink for what seems like an hour, but is more likely a minute or two, until the restroom door opens. I check the sink mirror in front of me to see who just came in and my knees go weak. Walking behind me to the toilet stalls is one of the most muscular men I've ever seen. Truthfully I don't see many bodybuilder types around here, but this man was still above and beyond the norm. He was wearing a pair of jeans that barely seemed to contain his tree trunk legs, and a tailored white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone revealing his shelf-like pecs. I don't like to admit it but I get a bit grabby when I'm intoxicated, and the more I drink the more I want to grab, and tonight I've had a lot to drink. Once the man entered his stall, my drunk brain began scheming of any way to cop a feel of those massive muscles. I stood there staring at the stall from my vantage point at the sink mirror, and began waiting for my chance to act. As soon as I hear the creaking of the stall door opening, I turn around and wait for the mountain of a man to appear. Once he enters my sights I fake a fall towards his large body. My luck finally seems to be looking up as the man catches me in his arms. I take that moment to get a feel of any muscles I can reach, pretending to try and catch my balance. I get a hold of his back, traps, delts, biceps, and pecs before he finally pushes me off of him, his hands on my shoulders. "Woah, what the hell man, are you ok?" The bodybuilder says in a deep gravelly voice. I am in bliss right now. Not only did I just feel up this massive man, but now he's touching me too? Unfortunately, my happiness is short-lived as my nausea decides this is the perfect time to go into overdrive. I only managed a small, "Oh no," before spewing my dinner and copious amounts of booze onto the shirt of the man in front of me. The man yells a string of curse words as he tosses me to the side. I try to grab onto his hand before I fall to slow my descent, but he manages to slip his hand out of my grip. The sudden prat fall knocks the wind out of me and I am forced to put my head on the ground to catch my breath. I sit up slightly to see how the large man I just puked on was doing and almost gasped as I see that he has taken his shirt off to clean it in the sink. Watching his rippling back muscles move as he scrubs his shirt distracts me for a few moments until I notice a small weight in the hand I tried grabbing the man with. Looking down I see a leather bound journal and a black pencil in my hand. Where did this come from? The cover was blank besides a name, "Greg Carlson". I had no idea who that was, but was too drunk to think about it for too long. I flipped the journal open to random page near the middle and began reading it. "-graduated from Anderson County High School with a full-ride sports scholarship. Soon after entering University, became interested in bodybuilding and-" I looked up from the journal and towards the man standing a few feet away from me. Could this be his journal? I doubted that someone as masculine as him would be carrying around a journal of his life stories everywhere he went. Besides, the way it was written seemed more like a third-person view rather than a personal journal. I looked back at the journal and flipped to the first page. Instead of seeing more life events, I saw what seemed like in depth statistics of a person's body. The stats didn't stop with just weight and height however, they went super specific like individual finger lengths. Who keeps track of that? Another thing I noticed was a category for sexual orientation, which was filled in as straight. I barely had time to register my disappointment before I saw something far more interesting, a penis category. With a length of 4 inches and a girth of 3 inches, I felt kind of bad for the guy. If the muscle beast in front of me really was the owner of this journal and it was accurate, his dick, while not horribly small, would look ridiculously tiny in comparison to his massive body. Feeling naughty and a bit horny, I erased the numbers with the black pencil that I found with the journal and replaced them with 10 inches long and 8 inches in girth. Hopefully if he notices what I wrote he'll have a good laugh about it. I got up quickly and placed the journal and pencil down near the man while apologizing quietly. He glared at me as I rushed out of the restroom. Outside of the restroom, I let out a heavy sigh and walked back to the bar, head hung. "Have a bad time in there or something?" Joe asked, noticing my sullen return. "I... I may or may not have puked all over a dude in the restroom." I said, not making eye contact with Joe. Joe was silent for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. His laugh was infectious, and I couldn't help but join in. It was too ridiculous not too. "Shit, man, I'm not going to clean that up." Joe finally said after we stopped laughing. "Ha, luckily I think it pretty much all ended up on the guy and not the floor." I chuckled again before finally looking up at Joe with a grin. "Also, would this be a bad time to ask for that job?" "That was a quick change of heart, but I guess It's a good of a time as any. I can set you up a quick interview this week with the boss. Don't worry though, I'll be there too. You're basically guaranteed the job." As we continue discussing the job and the work it entailed, I notice the bathroom door opening and the man I had met in it exiting from within. He was wearing his shirt once again but now it was wet and basically see-through and his sculpted body was on display. At the very least there was no sign of the vomit I had covered him in. With a distressed look on his face the man kept adjusting his crotch. It was bulging a surprising amount for 4 inches, but I suppose it's all about how you display it. The man speed-walked his way past me without a second glance and left the bar. Joe didn't seem to notice as he continued his spiel on bartender etiquette. Unbeknownst to me, the journal I had found had completely disappeared without the man taking it. Things would soon start to get a bit hectic around here for me.
  18. So this is a story I decided to write on a whim as an excuse to procrastinate from coursework I'm supposed to be doing that is very very loosely connected in some way to this, which is how I justified to myself wasting a couple of hours on it. In any case, I hope you enjoy it and I hope I don't offend any Potterheads on the forum (seriously, please don't execute me, I just thought the magical premise lent itself well for muscle growth stories) and instead I hope you appreciate the nods and references here and there. As always, feedback is always welcomed. HARRY POTTER & THE DRAUGHT OF VIGOUR Harry: Longbottom! Neville: Hello Harry *He says in an unamused yet friendly tone* Harry: ah it’s good to see you mate *Harry replies while patting Neville’s back* Harry: well come on, come in, it’s chilly outside isn’t it? It’s been 2 years since the Battle of Hogwarts, and former Hogwarts colleagues Harry and Neville had gone on to start the following chapter in their adult lives. They had remained friends after Hogwarts and Harry had invited Neville over for a Saturday night of eating terrible food and indulging in the stories of their lives. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Harry: hahahahaha. Neville: you don’t have to be such knob. Harry: *laughter trailing off* well you are correct that it wasn’t the nicest gesture, however, I honestly wasn’t aware that it took till the following morning for someone to find you on the common room floor. Neville: well it’s not as if I could undo Hermione’s curse on my own. Harry: at the very least that act of bravery is what won Gryffindor the House Cup during our first year, so cheers to you sir. *raises his wine glass* Neville: it does feel quite nice being acknowledged by the ‘chosen one’. *he says in a sarcastic tone* Harry: sod off. Neville: what a time to be alive though, despite the second wizarding war. Harry: a lot of things have changed, a lot of people have changed, I was taken aback when I came across Luna again the other day, she’s still quintessentially Luna though. Oh! *Harry half-jogs to another room* Neville: what are you doing? *hears rummaging* Harry: digging this out *Harry appears back in the room with a shoebox* Neville: what do you have in there? Harry: all kinds of stuff from back in Hogwarts *Harry says while sticking his arm further and further into the shoebox* Neville: where is your hand going? *Neville said, perplexed* Harry: oh this? I asked Hermione to put an extension charm on this box to store a lot of my old things. Incredibly handy, but why can’t I find those photographs? I have a couple of albums from our time at Hogwarts. Neville: maybe you have too much stuff in there, let’s take some of them out. Harry: Alright, here *Harry said as he started passing items off to Neville* After a number of things had been pulled out. Neville: okay let’s take a break, now. You really ought to clean that thing once in a while, this all can’t be absolutely necessary anymore. Harry: they are memories, some great, others torturous, but memories nonetheless. Neville: really, this is a memory worth keeping? *He says while holding up a 6th-year Herbology textbook* Did you ever even use this? Harry: I don’t believe so, it was around the time everything started falling apart. Neville: why is it so tattered already then? Harry: I’m not sure... *Harry says while taking the book from Neville and turning open the cover* ‘This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince’ *Harry read out* Neville: The Half-Blood Prince? Harry: it was Snape’s pseudonym, I used his copy of Advanced Potion-Making during my 6th year as well and it had all sorts of changes to potions and spells he developed on his own in them that improved upon the ones in the book. Neville: You arse, so that’s how you did so incredibly well in that class. You could have passed the knowledge along. Harry: well not every spell in there was for good. I am very curious to see what he came up with in Herbology however *Harry said as he started to skim through the pages of the book as Neville leaned in as well to see* Neville: wow there are so many notes written in the margins. Harry: it was the same with his Advanced Potion-Making textbook, the man was a bloody genius. Neville: ‘draught of vigour, enhances exponentially the physical strength of the person who consumes it, a single sip causes.....e..t.......opp......i....ex....t....e’ *Neville read on a page they came across while going through the book* I can’t read this part, it’s smudged. ‘...sulting in magnified male physical traits’ Harry: well I believe the rest is rather clear, I think that bit simply went into more detail as to how it happens. Neville: magnified physical traits and enhanced strength, rubbish, it sounds too good to be true. Harry: this is one of Snape’s potions though, THE Severus Snape, it must be real. Neville: how come Snape never fit the description of someone who drank this potion then? Harry: it was Snape, do you really see him walking around resembling Hercules considering his personality? Neville: you’re not wrong. Harry: it’s most likely also temporary. Neville: what makes you think that? Harry: the ingredients, I know some of them are used in brewing Polyjuice potion, and that only lasts a couple of hours. It might be a variation on a transformation potion? Neville: isn’t Polyjuice brewing restricted? Harry: I have plenty of stories to tell *Harry says with a smug look* Neville: well that’s apparent. Harry: should we try it? Neville: are you sure about this? Trust a potions recipe a random student came up with? Harry: it’s a potion Snape came up with, the potions master Severus Snape. Neville: are you sure this Half-Blood Prince character was Snape? Harry: how do you think I won that bottle of Liquid Luck back in the day? Neville: blimey Harry, that’s how you bested the mighty Hermione? Harry: I’m telling you, his notes would make Slughorn green with envy. Neville: so... enhanced strength you say.... Harry just smirked in response. Neville, luckily for Harry, excelled at Herbology, and had the ingredients at his disposal, he loved to collect samples of even the rarest plants and fungi he could get his hands on, so they locked up and made way for Neville’s apartment for a night neither is sure to forget. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Neville: leave your coat wherever you like, could you start a fire and prepare my cauldron for me? Harry: certainly *he said as he lit a fire and reached for the cauldron* Wow, an Induro 1816, this is a high-quality cast bronze cauldron, with lion head handles and custom engraving. Neville: keen eye. I inherited it from my great- great- grandparents. Catch Harry. Harry: got it *Harry said, catch the jar Neville had tossed him* Got everything we need? Neville: yes, are you sure we should do his? Harry: just imagine the possibilities. Neville: very well. And so Neville undertook to brew the potion while Harry read him the instructions and recipe: Add 4 leeches to a bubbling cauldron..... ........... ....... stir counter-clockwise exactly 55,5 times without............ Shred the...... Then pour in spoonfuls of ground tuberose until the potion turns a pale.... ..................... ....occasionally.......... ......... Add 3 drops of Mandrake sap and wave your wand to....... ........... while adding.... ...... Let boil for an hour and proceed to add a bundle of knotgrass..... .................thus allowing the mixture to............... Add a Devil’s Snare vine with...... .................... Finally, stir 6 times clockwise and twice counter-clockwise while simultaneously waving your wand until the mixture ceases to bubble and add 10 leaves from a Whomping Willow, one at a time. The resulting draught should be white in colour, having the consistency of troll mucus and an aroma reminiscent of damp mossy forest and tanned leather. Neville: *sighs out in relief* It’s finally done. Harry: *sniffs over the cauldron* What a very specific smell, mossy forest and tanned leather. Neville: I don’t have a problem with the smell as much as I do with the way it looks.... doesn’t it remind you of.... Harry: I thought best not to mention it *Harry quickly interjected* But I’m glad to hear I wasn’t the only one with it in mind. Neville: are we sure we want to try this? *Neville said with a dubious look on his face as Harry poured them both a cup of the potion they had just brewed* Harry: cheers! *Harry clanks his cup against Neville’s as they both down the concoction* Neville: wow *he coughs a bit* Harry: that’s bloody awful, it’s like a stale minge Neville started to feel the effects of the potion first, he felt a dizzy spell coming on, he struggled to breathe and felt really agitated and disoriented. At the same time Harry was starting to feel tingling all over and broke out in a cold sweat, his heart was racing, he felt as if a bout of nausea was about to overcome him. Feeling ill distracted them from noticing some of the other effects of the potion that were becoming more noticeable; their veins were engorging, becoming fatter and more prominent on their skin as main veins spread into countless branches all over their bodies. Then their hearts started to pound, harder and harder, reverberating in their heads, their veins pulsing in unison with the heart beats. Harry: fuck, fuck, FUUuUCK *Harry screamed as the growth kicked in* With each pulse through his veins, his muscles started to swell. First only a bit at a time, slowly filling his sweater, causing it to fit his body in a much more complimenting way. Then suddenly his left arm jerked into the air and starting from his deltoid down to his biceps and triceps, then finally his forearms his muscles swelled, growing twice their size in an instant, tearing the sweater sleeve apart. As the feeling rocked Harry down to his core and drool ran from his mouth in absent-minded ecstasy, the growth started to spread to his right side, his left pec, trap, neck and lat swelling bigger, and bigger with each breath until another violent jerk made them and his entire right size explode in size in a wave that raced towards his fingertips, catching up to his left arm, destroying the remaining sleeve and neck of the sweater, the leftovers falling down to the floor revealing his (currently) disproportioned body. At the same time, Neville was undergoing the same transformation, he grabbed his head with both his hands as his body pulsed and grew until his shirt and trousers were taught. Then as the growth rocked through his lower body, first through his right glute, then his quad, and finally his calf, ripping his pant leg to pieces and forcing him to lean onto his underdeveloped left leg until the growth targeted that one as well, the sudden growth on that side now causing him to lurch and collapse on to his knees, when his already muscular legs doubled in size once again, forcing him to use his hands on the floor to steady himself while his trousers left this world behind, and revealing a pair of boxers that were desperately trying to contain something very large that was growing thicker and stiffer. Harry’s growth meanwhile had started to make haste travelling downwards, his abs and obliques bulging one by one, and a deep Apollo’s belt forming on top of his hips giving him a thick and meaty core, this was followed by his glutes bulging outwards, blowing the middle seam of his jeans right open. Neville in the meantime was screaming to high heaven as the growth spread through him much more violently, rushing upwards making his entire upper body bulge in size, then again, then again, then one more time tripling in size in a wave of growth that knocked the air right out of his lungs, his upper body becoming ridiculously wide while maintaining a relatively trim waist, that spread into his massive legs when your gaze travelled further downwards. At the same time, his cock, fully erect and poking out the top of his boxer’s waistband and his oversized balls which stretched the rest of the fabric to its max, were growing with each wave of growth that rocked him as well, his cock grew purple and the veins became grotesquely engorged, and then one wave and the cock stretch longer and swelled thicker, and his balls swelled larger causing tears to come from his boxers, then again even larger, then once again, when Neville’s underwear finally gave out and he moaned in ecstasy, his cock lodging itself between his enormous pecs, eliciting an obscene moan from him as it swelled one last time becoming menacingly thick and squirting out a large glob of precum. At the sight of his ridiculously muscled and well-endowed friend arousal overcame Harry like a feral animal’s instincts, the tear in his jeans’ rear spreading towards the front of the pair of pants as his growth sped up, his cock tearing right through everything bursting forwards in all of its glory, freakishly large and as thick around as a bodybuilder’s arm, although even then not as thick as Neville’s. It smacked hard against his abdomen with a loud and wet *THWACK*, drooling precum like a river. The growth continuing down his legs, destroying what little denim had remained desperately hanging onto his frame. When it seemed as if any more stimuli would fry their young brains, the effects of the potion finally started to subside. The profuse sweating stopped, and they slowly started to regain their bearings. Neville: Christ *Neville said as he began to stand up* Harry: bugger, that was a wild ride. Neville: you can say that again.... holy shit Harry... *Neville said as the sight of his newly enhanced friend finally registered in his brain* Harry: Looks good huh? *he said as he strikes a double bicep* Although I can’t say I dislike my view. Neville: what are you talking abou.... *Neville’s words trailed off as he took in his own physique, exploring all his new glistening muscles, flexing here and there* Wow Harry: I don’t think it’s quite fair that you got to have this thing though *Harry says, lust and envy tinging his words and coming through in his eyes as he grabs Neville’s bigger cock* Neville: FUCK! Harry what the... SHIIiiiiIT *Neville tries to get out as Harry swallows his cockhead in one fell swoop, Neville instinctively pushing Harry’s head down further, forcing his monster cock down his friend’s throat with his newfound strength* yes yes yes, fuck YEAH! Harry: *cough cough cough* down boy, that thing can kill now, although I know of another hole that’s up to the challenge *Harry says as he bends down, laying his chest on the table nearby, presenting his rear to Neville* Neville without saying another word walks over and ploughs his cock into Harry’s ass down to the hilt prompting a guttural roar from Harry that quickly transitioned into a lascivious moan as Neville pulled out halfway and plough back in again this time with a tad more care into his actions. In and out, again and again and again, he rammed his massive cock into Harry. Flipping Harry halfway on to his back, Neville pulled out all the way then rapidly ploughed halfway into Harry making him grunt, he pulled out again, then rammed it in again halfway, repeating this a few more times before getting back to fucking Harry like he wanted to kill him. As he came closer and closer to his climax Neville picked up the pace and the strength with which he rammed Harry, he fucked faster and harder, and harder and harder and even harder, pushing Harry to the edge himself until they both yelled out in unison when Neville rammed him one last time, him coming into Harry and Harry shooting his load into the air where it then came down pouring like torrential rain unto them and the table. As they came down from their stupor they started to slowly shrink back. Neville: oh man, it’s not permanent? No! I wanted to stay like this. Harry: haha well then it really would be too good to be true if it were permanent. Besides, there is only so much of your animal fucking that I can take before I die. Neville: that’s not really my problem now is it *Neville said trying to be smug, his façade slipping just a bit as his cheeks blush pink* Harry: look at him, all that hot air filling your muscles went to your head? After about half an hour of slowly shrinking down, they stopped shrinking at a good 8kg (18lbs) heavier than they were prior to drinking from the draught. Harry: hmm I guess there is some carryover from the potion after all, or it just takes longer for the last bits to leave our systems. Neville: well I did enjoy being the hulking beast, but I suppose I can live with this much *he says while flexing his arm and admiring his new above-average bicep* Harry: well.... as you are aware, we did brew a whole lot of the draught of vigour, there is always more experimentation to be had, we should figure out if this amount of extra size will be left over after every use don’t you think? *Harry says in a sensible tone* Neville: as true men of the magical sciences we should be methodical shouldn’t we now? *replies Neville in the same tone* Harry: you always were a very reasonable man *says Harry as a smirk appears on his lips* -- The End --
  19. bosx

    Rugby

    New story I'm really excited about. Been thinking up this one for a while Chapter 1 “Oh my God, there’re back.” I usually listen to music at the gym, but when I go with my best friend Emily we talk to take our minds off of the burning sensation we feel in our legs while we use the ellipticals. Immediately as I looked straight ahead I knew what she was talking about; the men’s rugby team. How could you miss them? There were about 12 of them entering the gym, each with a different body shape but with the same identifying feature: they were fucking big. Their powerful legs jutting out of the short shorts they wore pulsed with every step, and their heaving arms swayed by their sides as they sauntered over to the machines. The best part yet: Their lack of definition. They were blobs of men, packed with muscle but with a cover of fat all over them from the tremendous amount of food they eat each day. They were everything I wanted to be. “Wow, I’m so thankful the rugby season started up again,” I said while unable to take my eyes off the asses of some of these men. “Right?!” Emily said in response. “You should talk to them, maybe some of them play for the same team!” She hinted at my sexuality. I nervously laughed and brushed the idea away, but the thought of talking to one of these animals was enough to make my mouth water. I’d probably have a heart attack if one of them even looked at me. After a grueling 30 minutes, we were finally finished with our cardio and exited the gym. Along the way, I couldn’t help myself and took several peeks at the team, working out, walking, and even just standing there. My heart was beating even faster than it was during the cardio session. One in particular caught my eye; he had piercing blue eyes and seemed more defined than the rest. His arms, still massive, had several lines in them, moving while he was spotting a much bigger man who was bench pressing near him. “See you again tomorrow?” I asked Emily. Even though the quarter had just started, I knew I needed to get on top of going to the gym this year. Even though I’m not fat, I still have some excess belly fat I want to get rid of to get that flat, clean stomach I’ve been craving for so long. “Nah, sorry. Tomorrow’s my busy day with classes, but maybe Thursday will work!” “Ok, I’ll text you to let you know when I’m free!” Later in my dorm, the thought of the muscle mean roaming around the gym penetrated my mind time and time again. God, just how they stood, with all the muscle and mass they had accumulated hanging off of their bodies stunned me. I thought about the man with blue eyes that had caught my eye again, and how lean he was. He was truly a major goal for me in my fitness life. I went to bed, hoping that one day I would look even remotely like that, or at least have a boyfriend of that size. I’d kill for it. The next day, I woke up with the men on my mind. “It’s probably just a phase,” I reassured myself. I went through various things I couldn’t stop thinking about, for the obsession to end around 2 weeks later. This will be over soon. As I came back from brushing my teeth, the clip on our door had a new addition to it, adding to the list of promotional flyers, events, and clubs that it seemed everyone was trying for us to join. As I looked closer, it was for none other than joining the men’s rugby team. God, could they read my mind? My first thought was to just throw it away as someone of my size of 170 lbs at 5’10 could never make it among the ridiculously jacked men of the team, but decided to ask my roommate Ryan about it. “Oh, yeah, I saw that! They have an info session today at 7pm, I might go to that just to see if I’m interested.” I was surprised that Ryan, while no bigger than I am, was even interested in seeing what the team was all about. He was about the same size as me, and went to the gym somewhat often. I think he went into the weights section instead of chickening out and doing cardio like me, but I never knew he could be serious about bulking up. “Are you going?” “Um, maybe. I have to see if I’m busy.” The idea of me going went from a hard no to a possible yes as I considered all the possibilities about the meeting. I mean, going doesn’t mean an automatic sign-up, which I couldn’t possibly do because of the men on the team. I would be intimidated way too quickly, and I knew myself well enough to know I would be distracted all the time. Going to the meeting, would, however, mean that I would get to stare at these hunky men talk for an hour. Fine, I’ll go. As it neared 7pm, I told Ryan that I would go, to which he was excited about. We walked together to the meeting about 10 mins away from our dorm. “God,” I thought, “If I have to walk this far this better be good.” Not only was the meeting “good,” but it caused the biggest shift in attitude and personality I had ever gone through.
  20. Hialmar

    Coach's recruits

    Coach's recruits Chapter one Cyril felt silly. The thin-limbed 20 year old student in literary studies felt embarrassed over his own insecurities. Why would an intelligent boy like himself -- having just left adolescence he still shunned to call himself a man -- accept the stereotypical ideas about masculinity the marketing world and the film industry tried to sell him? Aren't we all individuals? Why would he allow someone else to dictate to him, what male existence was supposed to be? Wasn't he a free person -- free to make his own decisions, free to find his own truth, free to explore his own mind? He was more introspective, than the jocks that had surrounded him during high school. Although he had escaped bullying, his interaction with the high school jocks had been superficial and ambivalent. They were not all bullies, and a few of them had been decent acquaintances in some cheerful, plucky way, but it had been impossible to discuss anything that mattered with them. And yet. The way they took care of their bodies. Their confidence. That something, lurking inside them: Warm, friendly, and yet threatening to burst into something else than friendly. Was he coded by society to fall into traditional patterns? On the other side, society didn't approve of meatheads. Actually, the entire society was ambivalent: Extolling perfect bodies in films and on TV, but disapproving of beefy men at workplaces and in academia. There was a lot of talk about "toxic masculinity" nowadays. Sometimes it could sound like all masculinity was toxic, which was a bit unfair. He watched the box he had been foolish enough to order. A few adhesive patches and a sort of pod with earbuds. He had fallen for the marketing tricks: "Want to be more of a man? Improve gains at the gym? Explore your innate masculinity?" Ridiculous. He could have flushed the money in the toilet, and got the same results. There are no magic methods. Well. Worth a try. Probably nothing would happen. Bedtime. He read the instructions, pressed the patch to a spot below his armpit, put the earbuds in his ears and reclined in the bed. He pressed the button. "You have ordered this product, because you want to improve something in your life. To improve yourself." The voice was deep, reassuring and commanding in a nice way, but Cyril's sense of irony was still alerted. It sounded slightly too much like the exaggerated deep voices in film trailers and after shave commercials, to allow him to take it seriously. "You are able to improve your life and improve yourself. The ability is already inside you." "The usual self-help rhetoric.", he thought sleepily. "By using the patches according to schedule, and by listening to this audio file before sleep every night, you will gradually improve your life and yourself. I will guide you to a deeper state of mind, and you will carefully listen to my instructions." There were some sort of humming sounds in the background -- several of them, layered -- and his body began to feel relaxed and nicely warm. "By reaching a deeper state of mind, you open yourself up for positive change. The deeper state, the more change. I will now count from ten to one, and by each step, you will go deeper and deeper into yourself. ONE." It felt like he was a recruit given a command. It felt good to be the recruit. Recruited to improve himself. Given the command: ONE. His mind obeyed. Deeper. It felt good to go deeper. "TWO." His consciousness dwindled away into his mind. The deep voice continued to count: Three, four, five. Six, seven, eight. It actually felt quite nice. "TEN". Sunlight shimmered behind the curtains when he awoke. To his surprise, the audio file was still running. "TWO. And when I say 'one' you will be fully awake and relaxed, and the things you experienced tonight will begin to manifest in your everyday life ..." "ONE. Good luck, and you will listen to this audio file again next night, or even more often." Weird. He hadn't expected the audio file to last for hours, and he didn't remember anything since he fell asleep last night. He had probably fallen asleep during the countdown. Disappointing to not remember the actual content of the mind-training. He felt hungry. He felt hungry for porridge. Porridge without sugar. He cooked some porridge. He finished his meal. He hadn't used his gym card for two weeks, but he suddenly felt in a good mood for exercise. Yeah, exercise would be a good idea. He looked for his training trunk, and to his surprise he found it already prepared for a workout. Strange. He couldn't remember preparing his bag for the gym. Anyhow, it made things easier. He was on his way. * * * It had been a week. Everything had effortlessly become like a clockwork: Workouts. Meals. Laundrying his workout clothes. Putting the new patch in place. Listening to the audio file. Falling asleep at a decent time. Sleeping well. He felt well. He felt energised. He had tried to listen to the middle part of the audio file, but found, that he always had to listen from beginning to end, and he didn't remember much (or anything) after the counting. He only knew, that the counting felt good. Thrilling. Exciting. Because what would follow, would help him realise and manifest what he wanted. And he wanted gains. He wanted muscle. He craved it. Desired it. A sort of deep seated urge, which had been there all the time, had stirred. Awakened. Asserted itself. * * * Three weeks had passed. He got an e-mail in his inbox. An e-mail from the company: If he enjoyed the first month, he was given the offer to subscribe to a two-month follow up, which aspired to assist him in his goal to grow bigger. The urge stirred in the depth of his belly and in the depth of his mind. Follow up. Bigger. If he enjoyed the first month? This dedication! The dedication he had experienced when he returned to the gym was amazing. If the follow up was half as good as the first month, he would gladly subscribe. And so easy! Just to click the link:
  21. MegaMassiveMuscleMonster

    Julia Grows

    Calling Adrianna Stone a phenomenon simply did not do her body justice. She has completely and effortlessly dwarfed even the most muscular and freaky male heavyweight bodybuilders for the last 25 years. She was hulked to the max, sitting at around 400lbs in the offseason. There were multiple men, mainly strongmen competitors, who weighed the same or more than she did. But they were all also usually at least 6" taller, and her 6 foot tall body was much, MUCH more musclebound and better proportioned. She was gaining more mass every year, losing maybe only 20 pounds during her competition prep, always retaining her muscular gains.Every muscle in her body was overstuffed and straining for more growth- and so was her clit. At 8 inches long, it was bigger than some men's penises. Adrianna was a cougar personified. At 50 years old, she spent many nights after her competitions having the young studs and muscle-barbies she'd demolished try to please her insane libido. She was a massive, ultra-muscular behemoth of strength and size, and the entire world looked upon her in awe and lust. The entire human race worshiped the ground she walked on, with a tinge of fear. Tonight though, she was earnestly worshipping the monstrous muscles of the sole exception to that rule. Julia Ingrisano has turned 18 last month. She was beautiful without comparison; sparkling mischief-filled green eyes, silky smooth firey red hair, a dazzling white smile, high, rosy cheeks and kissable, red bee-stung lips. All perfectly placed on her angelic face. Her complexion was near perfect, her Irish and Italian heritages giving her a skin a healthy, soft golden glow, along with freckles dotted around her cute button nose. She fit the expression "face painted by God," to a tee. Julia was also a monster. Despite being just over 5 feet tall, this gorgeous beauty queen carried more than three times Adrianna's already unbelievable mass. Today was leg day, and Julia was doing back squats. She had borrowed a bulldozer from a construction site, and had it balanced across shoulders that were almost twice as wide as she was tall. Adrianna couldn't fit her arms around even one of Julia's gargantuan calf muscles, let alone her thighs. Thighs that swelled larger by inches with every strained rep that Julia pumped out. Erotic, lust filled moans filled the air around the construction site. Every sound from the mega-muscled teen distracting the workers from their jobs as they all stopped to watch this behemoth bulk her muscles up to an even larger more massive size. Adrianna's hands were desperately fondling Julia's monolithic wall of abs. They withered crazily with every breath. Even this freak's individually sliced obliques made Adrianna's gigantic pecs look malnourished. "Get bigger ," breathlessly whispered Adrianna. Julia was shaking from effort. At the apex of her final squat, she let out a high pitched shriek as she powered the machine up over head and began shoulder pressing the bulldozer again and again. Before Adrianna's adoring eyes, this super-human teen muscle-goddess began to add even more breadth to her delts, and lats. Her medicine ball sized pecs eclipsed her face completely, swelling to the size of bean bag chairs. Her traps and shoulders had long since risen above her head, squeezing around it with every press. "Fuuuck." Adrianna had tears and mascara running down her face as she watched this impossible muscle-goddess swell even larger. "I want you even bigger," Adrianna breathed. "You'll never be too massive for me. Grow for me..."Julia let out a earthshaking grunt as her pussy squirted her love juices with a terrifying force that forced Adrianna to her knees. She could have filled a bathtub with her juices. The scent of her musk sending the construction workers into a frenzy, more than a few fell into a lust-fueled coma. Adrianna had an orgasm as well. With her record-setting muscle, and giant fake tits, she was a well known porn-star- but barley worth mentioning next to Julia's titanic size, tremendous beauty and cosmic sexual energy.Julia kept military-pressing the giant bulldozer through her seemingly endless string of continuous orgasms. Her model shaming face twisted in a mix of pain and pleasure, her eyes rolling back in her head as her juices flowed down massive jutting quads and hamstrings.After several minutes, her pussy-lips stopped throbbing, just a little. She shifted the bulldozer into just her right hand, and continued pressing it. Mind-blowing shoulders creaked even broader and higher, her head now smooshed up against them even at the bottom of the reps. Julia was grimacing- or grinning? "Can't stop growing," she whispered softly. Her flood gates opened again, a pool of cum now forming around Adrianna who had fallen unconscious at the sight of such overwhelming size. "What a pity," thought Julia. "I'm just starting to feel the pump." The absurdly muscular beast that was Julia Ingrisano was only just getting started. *This is an adapted shorty story from @powerfulbodies (now deactivated) tumbler account. All credit for the plot is his!
  22. dredlifter

    The Librarian - Chapter Seven

    Chapter 1: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14262-the-librarian/ Chapter 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14459-the-librarian-chapter-2/ Chapter 3: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14606-the-librarian-chapter-3/ Chapter 4: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15004-the-librarian-chapter-4/ Chapter 5: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15434-the-librarian-chapter-5/ Chapter 6: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15680-the-librarian-chapter-6/ Ok, time for the final chapter. Sorry this took so long. I felt like this wasn't my best effort so I struggled to get it finished. Hopefully it is still good enough to give you some, ahem, satisfaction ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ CHAPTER SEVEN The next morning Tom crept out of the hotel room. He briefly stirred Austin awake for a long goodbye kiss. Stretching his arms, the young man smiled warmly as their lips met. “Wow, Tom. Last night was incredible. I can believe you fucked me four more times.” Austin grinned and gave Tom another long passionate kiss, feeling the overnight stubble of the big man giving him sensuous scrape on his own cheek. “Mmm, I'm going to miss you. I'm so exhausted though I just...need...some...more sleep.” Austin laid back down and drifted back into slumber. Tom examined the tight ripped body of his conquest, admiring how he had completely worn out such a fantastic specimen of young manhood. The thought made him grin, but he smiled even wider as he noted how tight his clothing was. All the exercise last night, along with the catalytic affects of the growth powder had pushed him to new dimensions. He rested that afternoon and enjoyed some new chapters of his book while lounging out in the backyard sun. The bright sun glistened off his newly engorged muscles, deepening his tan. After five more chapters he lightly dozed off and was awoken by his buzzing phone. It was Jack, he wanted to get together with Tom that night before he had to head leave town. [How about another workout and then we go out?] the text from Jack said. [I'm down for the workout, but how about I treat you to a nice meal at my place.] [Hard to say no to that! Lift at 5:00pm?] [See you there!] Tom treated himself to a filling pre-workout meal. He felt like he ate more than he ever had in his life, no doubt due to his new size. Of course, his meal was assisted by a mixed protein shake with more of the powder mixed in. He wasn't about to stop this growth train. An hour later, his body rested and fueled, Tom made his way to the gym. Since it was Sunday afternoon the place was practically deserted. Only a couple of the hardcore members came in on Sundays. Tom was now firmly established in that group. “HOLY SHIT, DUDE!” Tom heard Jack's deep voice behind him. Smiling, he turned around and eyed the hot body of Jack. “Damn, man, you look bigger every time I see you. You must be on some crazy hardcore cycle right now. I'm jealous!” Jack waltzed up and wrapped both his hands around Tom's biceps. The large librarian instinctively flexed as he felt the calloused palms on his dense arms. “There is no way my hands can even get close to wrapping around these monsters, damn dude!” Jack groped and explored the other parts of Tom's body. Tom soaked in the praise from the hot man feeling him up. Like Tom, Jack was also in a stringer tank and some mid-thigh length gym shorts. He noted with extreme satisfaction that his own arms now seemed to be larger than Jack's own 22” cannons! Being taller sometimes it was hard to tell. Tom noticed Jack look around the rest of the gym, only spotting two other lifters completely disregarding the pair. Making sure they weren't looking, Jack smirked and gave Tom's prodigious bulge a surprise squeeze. The big man jumped but found the move very erotic. Jack chuckled. “Yep, that big monster is still there,” he said quietly. “C'mon man, time to GROW!” The duo had no particular plan for this workout. It was primarily to be used as a form of muscle-man foreplay for their date. They opted for a full body routine to hit the major muscle groups. First up they started with some incline presses. The warmup sets progressed and soon another realization hit Tom. Where he used to end his incline benches with 225, he now using that as a warm up. “I'm feeling it today, Jack! 225 has never felt so light!” Jack, not knowing Tom's secret, was surprised. “Really?. As huge as you are I woulda thought that was nothing for you.” The two men added quarters. Once again 275 was also light. Tom hefted out 10 easy reps. Jack did as well. Finally it was time for three plates, a full 315. Jack got under the bar and repped out a hard set of ten. He stood up and swung his arms back and forth and flexed his pecs. “Nothing like that feeling of a huge pump, eh Tom?” Tom stared at the deepening cleavage of his muse, then realized his own pecs were just as big. He slid down on the bench and repped out another easy ten! “Damn, big man! Making me feel small today, haha,” Jack teased. Weight was added. First 355 then 385. Jack was able to pound out another nine and then six reps respectively. But Tom got another easy set of ten at 335 and then a hard fought set of 10 again at 385! By now the other two lifters had left. Tom and Jack had now worked up a good sweat and Jack stripped off his stringer, making Tom whistle in approval. “You are beastin' today, Tom. Get that tank off...wow.” Jack whistled back. “Ok I'm good on these, you want to try more? Gotta go till failure, big man.” The two then loaded on another plate on each side. Four plates per side. 405 total pounds. A weight that a few months ago would've seemed impossible not just to bench, but to squat or deadlift too! Tom slid onto the bench, Jack smiling handsomely down from above, his big pecs looming above the bar. “You got this, stud,” Jack encouraged. Tom lifted the bar and slowly let it fall to the massive exposed shelf of his pecs. After a quick hold he drove his elbows up, easily raising the bar. Again. Then again...and again! After the sixth rep he began to feel the weight, but with perfect form, he continued. With some monster grunts he forced out another three reps. From above, Jack noticed how deeply red and flushed Tom's chest muscles were getting, almost like a sunburn. He coached his growing buddy. “C'mon man. Keep growing. Those pecs aren't big enough. Make them big. HUGE. PUSH IT!” Another rep was eeked out. Large drops of sweat began to fall down his pumped chest muscles into the gorge in between. “GAH!” Tom grunted and extended his elbow, panting heavily. Jack commanded. “One more! DO IT!” Tom lowered the weight, slowly, perfectly, controlled. The cool bar grazed his tanned flesh, creating a bridge between the grand canyon below. With a grimace and grunt he pressed. The bar slowly moved up. Jack yelled for more effort. The bar moved slowly but nevertheless, never stopped moving. Up and up the bar raised. With one final push Tom's elbows were fully extend and Jack helped rerack the sagging bar. Tom jumped up and ROARED a most muscular flex to no one in particular, savoring the insane pump and feeling of masculine accomplishment. He felt like he could rest his chin on his pecs they were so bunched up. He turned around and Jack was staring in awe. “Shit dude, that was awesome,” he said quietly, reverently. Jack reached up and put his palms on Tom's chest. “Wow, man. I've never seen someone get such a huge pump.” Jack pressed into the dense pillows of muscle, feeling the warmth and heft of the pectoral meat. His fingers dug into the muscle until Tom flexed, instantly forcing Jack's grip wide and out. Tom relaxed and Jack kneaded them some more, using his palms and fingers to feel the roundness while his thumbs slipped down and rubbed Tom's nipples. “OH SHIT!” Tom sucked in some air at the erotic shock sent from his nipples down to his cock, which was already filling with blood. Jack smirked and looked down at Tom's shorts. “Haha. Down boy. We still got more muscle to pump.” Tom caught his breath, reached out and snatched Jack's big forearms pushing them away from his pecs. “Well, then you better be careful what you touch, there mister,” he said with a grin. Suddenly he leaned forward and gave Jack a quick kiss, leaving him stunned. “And there be much more of that and other things later, stud,” Tom said as he stepped away and unloaded his side of the weights. Jack's own bulge expanded as he smiled and helped unload the bar. The rest of the workout proceeded much the same. Tom set a new personal best on each and every exercise they did, even squats! Being a tall man, he notoriously hated to train his legs, but with his hard work and the help of the powder, his legs were becoming quite possibly his best muscle group. “Those wheels are enormous, big guy! You're quads are even bigger proportionally than mine. I gotta feels these beasts.” As Tom performed his leg extensions, Jack's hands were all over the bulging mass of sinews. On each hardcore flex at the top of the motion, Jack made Tom hold the position while his nimble hands traced the separations. “Fuck man, look at that insane rectus femoris, that huge vastus medialis! All so huge and and striated. Burn those muscles. Force that blood into them, Tom. GROW!” Tom grunted and groaned, forcing rep after rep until he could do no more. The weight slammed down so hard and was so heavy that it launched his large body up forward. Luckily, since Jack was in front massaging his legs he was able to catch him...sort of. “Woah there, stud! OOF!” The heavy weight of the monumentally buff librarain falling at him surprised Jack. He wrapped his own big arms around Tom and Tom did the same for support. Their sweaty pecs smacked against each other. Jack briefly held firm but the enormous weight of giant librarian and his own tired and pumped legs sent him backwards. Jack, being no stranger to holding heavy objects was able to control his fall, first sinking to his butt and them on his back as Tom landed on him chest to chest. Their arms were still wrapped around each other and Jack savored the feel of Tom on top of him. Chuckling, Jack spoke, “You just couldn't wait to get me on my back, could you?” While on the ground Jack began to flex and grind his hips into Tom. As the feeling returned to his quads, Tom grinned down at Jack. “You better be careful there wriggling like that under me. I may not be able to control myself.” The two laughed and stood up, Tom doing so in a very slow and wobbly manner due to the insane pump in his legs. “Easy there, big man,” Jack said as he helped Tom up. The rest of the workout processed with more intensity and new personal bests. After each pump Tom seemed to swell larger and LARGER. It was like his pump was compounding on itself. The two men finished up with biceps. While Tom was cranking out dumbbell biceps curl with 85 lb dumbbells Jack sauntered up right behind him and felt up the big man's arms while he ground his bulge into Tom's glutes. “Perfect reps, big Tom. Force that blood into those peaks.” Jack leaned forward to Tom's ear, “Watching you is forcing a lot of blood into my cock.” Tom let his arms fall to his side and turned to see Jack's face behind his shoulder and gave him a knowing grin. With their full bodies pumped to the max the two headed to the locker room. By now the gym had closed and the two were the last humans in the building. The attendant has closed up and left. “Just make sure the door is closed behind you,” the young man had said with a wave. In the locker room the two disrobed their renaming clothing. Once naked they simply stared at each other. Jack licked his lips as he eyed the incredible physique in front of him. Tom did the same. “Tom, you are incredible. So big. So dense. I've never seen this kind of full, bloated, dense musculature on a man so tall. And everything is still tight and defined! You're still rockin' that six pack. Geezus. How much do you weigh? Shit, you look like you are closing in on 300 lbs.” Tom's cock had reached full mast as he stared at the naked bodybuilder before him singing his praises. Jack chuckled and joked. “I bet you are carrying 20 lbs just in you COCK. Fuck, that thing is huge...” Tom stepped on the scale and digital display calculated. The number that show made Tom moan and his dick leak. 313 lbs. “Holy shit. Dude you are one of the biggest bodybuilders there is, do you realize that? You almost look stage ready with how shredded you are. Very few men, probably less than five, have ever stepped on stage at the Mr. Olympia weighing over 300 lbs. And you look like you have room for even more muscle! Your body is perfect. You are making me leak just looking at you. And so handsome too. You've got it all.” Tom wrapped his big arms around his smaller yet still massive lover and kissed him deep as their two swords of flesh fought each other below. “Tom, can I measure the rest of you? I want to know what kind of stats come on a man so BIG.” With a smirk, Tom replied, “Oh yeah, go and measure. Everything,” he added with a sexy wink. Jack grabbed the tape measure and began taking Tom's stats. He started at the bottom and worked his way. Crouching, he wrapped the the tape around Tom's calves. “21 inches. Bigger than most bodybuilders' arms. So hot.” At the news Tom reared up flexing his diamond boulders into extreme relief. Jack slid his hands up Tom monstrous thighs, giving the pillars of power some love before the big reveal. He ran his strong hands up and down the long but massive muscles, Tom's bulls nuts bounced along the top of Jack's hands at the top of this admiration strokes. He gave Tom's right quad a kiss and then taped them. “34 inches. Fucking monster wheels, big man. Mine are just a hair over 32.” Jack now stood up, letting the tip of Tom's cock drag along his own incredible physique as he rises with a grin, causing Tom to shudder due to the sensation. He wrapped his big arms around Tom's waist, grabbed his mighty glutes and pulled him tight, leaning up to give the big man a kiss. He released the kiss and stood back with the tape in hand. “Unreal, Tom. Your waist is just 32 inches. These abs are so tight and deep.” As the stats were revealed Tom just closed eyes and his cock pulses. He knew he had grown but the knowledge of just hot much bigger he'd swelled in the last couple of days had his bulls churning and his cock throbbing. Jack slid his hands upward. “Lift your arms a bit, big man. With all that chest and arm meat I need some space for access. Heh heh, I hope I can reach around these giant pecs and that barn door back of yours.” Tom chuckled, “'Barn door back'”? “Oh yeah, stud. I'm originally from Nebraska so all your hugeness reminds of beefy bulls and farms of the heartland. Ok now drop those arms.” Tom let his arms fall and his big pecs bunched up even more, seemingly growing in front of Jack. “Do you like big chests, big guy? Because yours is enormous. How does 62 inches sound?” “MMMMMmmmmmm. Oh fuck, I'm so big!” “Yeah you are. A beast of huge, aesthetic muscle. Incredible proportions. Ok, you ready for those big arms? FLEX THEM!” Tom quickly brought his arms up a tremendous pose with a growl. “Oh yeah, look at those giant arms. So big. These've gotta be some of the biggest muscular arms I've ever seen. I gotta feel these.” Jack then engaged in some hardcore admiration of Tom's arms. He nuzzled his nose against the mighty hanging ham-sized triceps, bulging downward to the floor. He then rubbed his stubbled cheek upward until he brought his lips to kiss the melon-sized lump of his biceps. He swirled his tongue on the peak, pointing it to trace the split peaks. Covering the muscle in his saliva as his hands caressed Tom's triceps. “Ok, I'll have to revisit these arms more later, let's find out how huge these arm. Oh shit, big man, I hope I have enough tape for this cannonball arm. Unreal guns, dude! Bigger than the last few Mr. O's! These arms are almost 24 inches HUGE!” “UUUUUUUHHHHHHHhhh,” Tom groaned in pleasure. It took all his effort to keep from painting his admirer's pumped physique. “Hold it in, Tom. Hold it in.” Jack leaned in close as Tom regained control. “Hold it in, because I want that inside of me later,” which only tested Tom's self control even more, causing Jack to chuckle. “Ok let's grab our post workout shake and then jump in the shower. We need to clean up...and maybe have bit more fun.” “That's sounds like a great plan, Jack. Bur first, you forgot one measurement.” Jack smarks his forehead dramatically, “How stupid of me, to forget perhaps the most impressive part on your already impressive body.” With a devilish grin he adds, “Well, let's measure those forearms!” The joke caused Tom to throw his head back and laugh. Jack laughs with him and then reached down, tape in hand. “Wow, look at this thing. It's good thing we don't have a ruler because it wouldn't be long enough! I just put the tap at the base. And no pushing in, no cheating on the length! Hehe. And then we stretch the tape out along to the top of this LOOOOONG cock. Look at all those inches go by. Six, seven, eight, nine. Still plenty more to go. Another inch...and another...almost there...” “..And there is Tom. You are the proud owner of a 13.25 inch monster cock.” Tom moaned in deep satisfaction. He instantly had to step away so that Jack's fingers are no longer touching his tool else he would explode like an atom bomb. It was now confirmed that Tom had one of the biggest cocks on Earth! Over twice as long as the average male. It made him feel even more manly and powerful. He closed his eyes as the feeling of sexual power faded, just slightly enough to allow him to control himself. He opened his eyes to see Jack smiling back. “Thought I lost you there. We will definitely have to revisit this and all of you very soon. But first, let's fuel up so we grow even more.” The two naked bodybuilders headed to their lockers to pull out their post-workout shakes. As Tom eyed his cup, the desire to grow more coursed through his body. He reached into the small tub of the special powder. Jack noticed, “An extra scoop today, eh?” “Oh yeah. A big workout with a studly lifting partner. I feel extra motivated today.” The bodybuilding librarian ended up mixing and extra scoop and half of his special powder. The two men filled their shakers with water and chugged down the protein-laden drinks. A warm feeling of energy spread throughout his frame. “Tom, you got some protein shake dribbling down your pecs, let's hit the showers and clean that up.” Jack reached out and swatted the bulbous glutes his larger friend and the two strode into the communal shower. Jack turned on the showers and let the water heat up until a nice steam buildup filled the tiled room. Jack squirted some shower gel into his hands and began to lovingly work the soap into Tom's body. “I'm gonna need a handful of this stuff for each muscle group, you've gotten so big.” At Jack's direction, Tom flexed whatever muscle Jack scrubbed. Starting with 'pecs', Tom cranked down into a most muscle pose. Jack worked the soap all over the pectorals that hardened into stone with the flex. Jack's soapy fingers traced the striations in Tom's upper chest. At one point he tried to insert his fingertips into the muscular gulch in between but was unable until Tom relaxed. Jack took extra time to work the under shelf, feeling and lifting the heavy flesh. With a grin he used his soapy fingers to tease and then pinch the big mans nipples, causing the hunk to shudder. “MMMMMmmmm feels so good, Jack. Wash my big muscles.” “With pleasure.” Jack turned Tom around and began to wash his back. He worked his hands over the lumpy, tanned expanse. Squeezing the lats and the traps. Tom couldn't see him, but Jack then squirted a bunch of gel on his own chest, lathered it up, wrapped his arms around Tom. Jack was using his own muscular chest to scrub Tom's back while he reached around to soap up the bumps and canyons of his abs. Tom felt Jack's tumescence nestle in between his bouldered glutes like a bratwurst in a bun. Jack used his strength to squeeze their bodies together into one. In front, Tom grabbed Jack's forearms and undulated his ass causing Jack to moan in his ear. Jack eventually releases the grip and walks around Tom again where he instructed him to throw up a double biceps pose. “Amazing. So fucking beautiful. Look at these canons. Those deep, DEEP pits flanked by pec, delts and biceps muscles. Rawr!” Jack growled then first spent three straight minutes licking Tom's right biceps muscle. Sucking and licking up the shower water that coated the glorious muscles. Tom flexed and unflexed making the muscle pump. Tom could feel the effects of the growth powder and knew that with every flex his arms were swelling with a trace of new size. Jack attacked his pits and the heavy hanging meat of his triceps as the two men moaned in muscular delight. Finally, once Jack had his fill he soaped up the mighty arm and then repeated the process with the left. Jack then dropped to his knees and worked his hands up each calf muscle and then the trunks of his legs. With so much quad muscle it again took a fair amount of time to give the legs the proper attention. Each of the four quad muscles were so large and defined that Jack was able to wash each one individually. Tom once again felt the pump in his legs growing, not just from the recent workout but the swelling recovery aided by the powder. Once each leg had been washed, Jack looked up and begins to kiss Tom's engorged cock. He took time sucking on the shaft and head of the mighty pole before using his slick wet hands to masturbate his Adonis friend. “Oh fuck, Jack! Suck me, stud. Suck that huge man cock!” After another few minutes of cocksucking, Jack then handed Tom the gel. Tom then began his own session of cleaning and sensually admiring the muscle stud in front of him. It was a dream come true. For decades Tom had dreamed of getting to feel up a true bodybuilder. Not some in-shape wannabe, but a true, ripped, bulging musclehead. Just like Jack. Even though he now had the body of his dreams, his excitement was inflated getting to feel up another bodybuilder. His big hand traced all over Jack's body, who flexed each muscle that Tom explored. Like Jack did, eventually he attacks the wide bulging mass of Jack's back, pulling the smaller yet still huge man against his immense form. With his height and longer arms Tom reached around and over and massaged Jack's nipples and cock as he nibbled on his traps and shoulders. He grinded his own rock hard cock into Jack's muscle butt. Jack turned his head and moaned into Tom's face, “Oh fuck. Fuck. So hot. You've got me so damn horny. I can't wait until after dinner. Do it, Tom. Fuck me. Fuck me with your giant cock.” Tom couldn't believe what he was hearing, but Jack's words made his cock surge with hardness. Perhaps it was the raging hormones of being so turned out, as Tom's entire body felt flush again even within the already hot spray of the shower. Tom reached his hand down to Jack's butt and began to use his fingers to loosen him up. Jack leaned forward slightly bracing himself against the shower wall. Once ready Tom slightly bent his knees and lined up the plum-size head at Jack's entrance, casing the bottom to moan. “C'mon man. Put it in. I need your muscle cock. That big bodybuilder cock!” This was it. Tom took a brief moment to remember the decades of lusting over bodybuilders. Austin was hot and fit, but he was not a bodybuilder. He remembered back years when we still fucking women. Would this feel better? Worse? The same? With a flex of his glutes the head popped in, breaching Jack's tight hole. “FUCCCCKKKKK!” Jack yelled. “So...so... BIG. AHHH!” Tom saw stars as the unreal sensation of masculine pleasure flooded his system. Every muscle flexed at the power he was feeling. Jack's tight butt along with his globular gluteus maximus muscle massaging his power tool nearly sent him over the edge just from initial penetration. Tom thrust in a couple more inches. “Geezus, Tom! You are stretching me out! Biggest I've had by far!” Hearing this only spurred Tom on even more and stoked his confidence. “Biggest by far, you say? Guess what, there's A LOT more to go!” “Fuck yeah, stud. Fuck me. Fuck my muscles!” Tom grabbed Jack's shoulders and with leverage slowly thrust the rest of the way in, causing Jack to hiss and Tom to groan some more. He held himself deep inside as Jack adjusted. Once he was ready Tom began to retreat and reenter, thrusting many inches in and out at a time. “There you go, big man. I normally top. I only let the biggest and best take my ass. You are the BIGGEST AND BEST! Fuck!” Tom continued to fuck Jack. It was far better than any woman or Austin. Jack's tight glutes and strong built body squeezed his cock with more sensations than anybody he'd had sex with ever before. Not to mention while simultaneously getting to feel the bulging muscles of the man he was pounding. As Tom continued to thrust Jack continued to moan louder and louder. “Fuck. It feels like your cock is actually getting bigger! Are you getting close?” Tom could have erupted at any time yet he noted Jack's words. His eyes had been rolled up and closed as he let the erotic sensations tickle his body. But he opened his eyes at Jack's words and looked down. It was then that he too noticed that Jack felt...tighter on his dick. Tom eyeballed his arms looking more vascular than ever. The cephalic veins on his arms were pulsing visibly. He released one hand from Jack's shoulder and flexed for himself. He could see it. His biceps were bigger. His cock was bigger. He was growing. Growing while inside of Jack. Tom looked down to see his pecs pumping up larger and larger. As he looked down his chin collided with the pec meat, impeding his downward gaze. He could feel himself slightly adjust his stance as his quads and hamstrings grew in every direction. The sexual exertion combined with the extra powder was causing him to swell right in front of his eyes! Jack, of course, could not see as he was facing forward and downward, nevermind the fact that his eyes were closed from the extreme bliss he felt as Tom's dick raked his love-nut. But he felt the effects inside. Tom couldn't help but voice his excitement. “I'm growing so big. So fucking huge. Ripped. Vascular. Bulging. I love being big. Being huge. And I can't wait...to...grow...fucking...BIGGER!!!!” With final thrust all the way in, expanding Jack's ring to new limits, Tom unloaded his essence. Instantly Jack's own cock began to expel juice onto the shower floor. With grunt after grunt Tom orgasmed, his body trembling as he pumped up even bigger. Jack continued to shoot as well, though tapering off well before the god-like bookworm bodybuilder finished. As the feelings of bliss drifted away, Tom wrapped his brawny arms around Jack and stood him upright, grabbing his chin, turning his head and kissing Jack. Tom wondered internally just how much bigger he had grown. At least another 15 lbs, maybe even 20. All added in less than 30 minutes of hot steamy shower time. He was thankful that at already over 300 lbs, another 15-20 wasn't too noticeable. The two made out for a few more minutes before Tom's removed his bull cock from Jack. “Tom, that was amazing.” “Thanks, Jack. I thought so too. You just helped me fulfill a dream of mine.” “Well, big man. Let's say we go have that nice meal...and then perhaps we can come up with some more dreams...or fantasies to fulfill after!” “That's sounds awesome, Jack.” “Yes it does indeed. Cripes, Tom. You pump up so huge with any exertion, even fucking. You are totally swole!” Jack reaches out and feels Tom's flexed arms, which look to be encroaching on 25 incredible inches. “What can I say, Jack. My body LOVES to grow. Let's get dressed and have that meal.” --- Jack would spend that night with Tom and the two would engage in hours of muscle play and bodybuilder lovemaking. Sadly, in the morning Jack had to return back home up north the next morning. Once he departed Tom looked in his cupboard and located the tub of growth powder. He used so much during the last few days to pack on nearly 75 lbs of muscle that was he nearly out, disappointing him. Arriving at the library that morning before the others, he prepared himself for what he would tell Susan and the rest of his workers about his new growth. He was already huge to them at the end of last week, maybe they wouldn't notice the growth? Fat chance, he thought to himself. 75 lbs is a lot to hide, especially since he hadn't had a chance to upgrade his clothes yet. Those XXXL-Tall shirts all felt painted on. Oh well, he would think of something. Tom walked into the closet which now seemed like a much tighter fit compared to last week. His shoulders must've been another 6-10 inches wider. He located the last tub of powder and went to inspect it. As he turned to leave his massive shoulders collided with the old wooden shelves, causing the flimsy end panel to snap off. “I'm like a literal bull in a china closet in here,” he chuckled to himself. As he inspected the broken end panel of the shelf he noticed and opening in the wall behind. It was small, about the size of an electrical socket and at first that's what he thought it was. Until he noticed some strange markings around it. He reached in to grab the opening. With a tug, a large section of the wall slide forward by and inch or so. “What the hell?” Using his Herculean strength, Tom easily moved the large shelf away from the wall. He was then able to fully remove the wall section, which ended up being about a 3 x 4 feet chunk. As he set the dislodged wall panel aside he looks inside. It quickly becomes apparent that the current wall of the closet is a false wall. As he peers inside the opening it reveals a thin, long space behind the current wall, about three feet wide. And in that thin space is more shelving. And all the shelves are filled with the black tubs of that magical growth powder. THE END.
  23. geektofreek

    muscle-growth Dwarfed by Dad - PART 2

    Hey guys, thanks for the awesome feedback on the first chapter. Here's the second, once again, it was written on my phone, so please excuse the errors. Enjoy! READ PART 1 HERE DWARFED BY DAD PART 2/4 When he grabbed the same weights as me, the same 80-pound dumbbells off the rack, I knew, just like the old man said over breakfast, that he was going to totally outgrow me. But it wasn't going to happen in a week, or even a few days, it was going to happen in a matter of hours. Almost as if he was literally growing bigger by the minute, the second, a growth experiment gone wrong, only it was my father, and there was seemingly no end to his new found muscle lust... “You know what?” Dad suddenly chuckled under his breath. “I think these weights are to LIGHT!” My jaw dropped to the floor, watching him move his way up the rack, right to the bodybuilding coveted 100-dumbbells. As he picked each one up, his sleeveless and huge chiseled grandpa-looking arms suddenly surged in size, definitely bigger than my own, looking like some real bodybuilder, not just an amateur, but some professional title baring bodybuilding hunk, a definition of physical perfection I could only dream of achieving. “OH-fuck, does that feel GOOD!” Dad groaned out loud, all while the whole gym stared, shocked, as he somehow began picking up the pace. He wasn't slowing down like he should have, gritting his teeth, grossly snarling, as the veins in his musclebound and hairy grandpa-looking arms suddenly exploded to grotesque size. Then his biceps, the fat steak sized meat packed triceps, began to rumble, quake beneath his already tight translucent skin, like some ready to erupt volcano. Soon his arms didn't just look twenty-inches, but twenty-one inches, then twenty-two inches. The already obscenely tight sleeveless shirt squeezed tighter, then out of nowhere, impossibly, his indecently painted on gym shorts ballooned even bigger, strained around his bloated old man thighs, his groin, even the back his disgustingly swampy and global muscle man butt. “AW-Yeah, look at this PUMP I'm getting!” Dad roared, continuing his relentless pumping, rep after rep. “I'm looking HUGE!” *RIIIPPP* *RRIIIPPPPPP* “D-Dad, y-your shirt…” I whimpered in concern, in total dumbfounded disbelief, but of course, the old man couldn't have cared less. He stared at himself in the gym mirrors proudly, arrogantly, looking like his ego had exploded ten-fold, the pride of a young testosterone dripping teenager, marveling over the display of hulking muscle bulging destruction, happening right underneath one of his heaving hairy daddy-pecs. There was a small snicker, as he just kept on lifting, unapologetically even, staring right back at me, swinging the two massive weights around like it was a warm up, not stopping until the other side of his shirt unequivocally matched. *RIIPPPPPP* *RIIIIPPPPPPPPP* “HAHA, OH-God damn, would you just check out this PUMP!” *THUD, THUD* Dad set the two weights down on the ground, standing fully up, looking horrendously bigger, a lot bigger! We used to be pretty much eye level, but now, somehow, we weren't even close! The top of his burly bearded face and piercing blue grey eyes soared a couple inches over my own. And then there was the all that muscle, all those rippling layers of bulging new bodybuilder power. He turned to me almost immediately, with a giant smirk on his face, flexing one of his colossal and nearly sixty-year old arms, an absolutely monstrous and musky twenty-three inch hairy arm muscle, this peaking sweaty mountain of bicep, right in my jaw dropped face. “J-JESUS, d-dad!” I whimpered in humility. “I can BARELY breathe!” “GOD-damn, BOY!” Dad chuckled mockingly. “Your old man's BICEP is as big as your whole FACE!” “P-PLease… D-Dad…” I found struggle in my own words, to even breathe, burning red in the face from humiliation, as my dad just continually publically tortured me, feeling as if this eclipsing mountainous muscle stuffed against my face, would be my inevitable doom. But my father luckily pulled away, moving onto the display of his own meaty male muscle cleavage, his own massive hairy pectorals, the cinematic destruction of his workout shirt. You'd think the embarrassing spectacle would have been over, but it wasn't, far from it actually. “HAHA, never thought that I would have TITS bigger than most woman…” Dad joked looked down, relishing on the insane rolling view of his blimping silver chest. With the now insane measurements of his own chest, he nearly effortlessly, not even having to muster up half his strength, that mind-blowing muscle cleavage, to explode through the rest of his upper shirt fabric, huge pec after pec, fat nipple after nipple, suddenly unleashed. *SNAP, SNAP* *RIIIPPPPPPP* “OH-fuck yeah!” Dad bellowed. “W-WHOA, BRO!” Some random college jock approached my father. “You're like the HULK with those giant pecs!” “The HULK, huh!?” Dad responded with a grunt, a gigantic smirk, looking down at the marveling and significantly younger gym jock, having another lightbulb, a deliciously devilish idea, go off in his twisted head. He suddenly turned his stance, the strain of his clothes loudly audible as he walked, cracking and popping all the fabric like branches in a storm. The college aged stud gulped, trembled a bit, with his mouth dangling open, his eyes bulging out of his own sockets, as he came into sweaty view of my father's mammoth and ready to explode backside. It didn't take much more than simple movement, flaring out his grotesquely muscle engorged veiny arms to the side of his godly stance, placing his hands on his waist, right before everyone heard the first dramatic tear. *RIIIPPP* My dad couldn't help but chuckle once more, snicker even, his voice sounding even deeper then before, manlier, powerful. With one sudden and swift flex, the back of his sweaty bulging gym shirt was detonated, exploding all the pieces of sweaty grandpa-pungent fabric, right onto the jocks whimpering awestruck face. *POP, SNAP* *RIIIPPPPPPPPP* “H-HOLY-shit, bro!!!” The jock wailed in amazement, removing the destroyed fabric from off his dumbfounded face, the inside of his dangling mouth. “How's THAT for the HULK!?” Dad roared with arrogance, tilting his now bull-sized neck to the side, staring into the large gym floor mirrors reflection, seeing that tiny college jock stand behind him pathetically, like a little school girl, whimpering. Soon after, his two other jock-friends joined him shortly, absolutely losing themselves, as well, over the incredible live muscle devastation. One of the onlooking guys even had this pudgy boner, a pea-sized wet spot, tenting against his light gray gym shorts, totally fagging out. My dad couldn't have cared less, so power drunk off all the attention, he actually fed back into the three men’s queerness, rubbing one of his iron blistered hands right down the middle of his humongous muscular bodybuilding butthole. . “H-HEY man, I'm n-not GAY…” The main college stud whimpered, looking frantically around at his equally jaw-dropped friends, but of course, they all couldn't stop themselves from continuing to stare, drool for that matter. Dad, with an enormous grin plastered on his face, began slowly flexing his lower half, causing his totally titanic swampy old man muscle butt, those unbelievably pumped mammoth muscle thighs, to swell even bigger, just by just a single blink of his commanding power. The ready to blow gym shorts began splitting obscenely around the seams, first around his legs, then right down the center of his gigantic ballooning bodybuilder butthole. *RIIIPPPP* *RIIIPPPPPPP* “O-OH M-MY God!” The three jocks wailed. “FUCK-yeah!” Dad roared. “Just check out the size of those GLUTES, BOYS!” The old man confidentially roared, right as his shorts fell to the ground, leaving him almost completely naked, just his pair of shoes and the most rank sweaty briefs you had ever laid eyes on, so much grandpa-looking pubic hair spilling out the front of his briefs it was grotesque. But my dad continued to flex anyway, enjoying the whole mind boggling spectacle from his own reflection, maneuvering his nearly naked gigantic muscle man butt, even closer to the three whimpering and comparatively puny college jocks, bending over like it was some muscle porn show. “OH-man, he's S-SO fucking H-HUGE!” Another jock wailed like a girl, just as my dad’s tattered white slightly shit-stained grandpa-briefs began squeezing up between the enormous canyon of his own swampy ass crack, helplessly gobbled up, inch by inch, as if his ass was actually eating, leaving nothing more than an inch or two to cover himself from behind, barely anything in the front! “HAHA, looks like ALL my CLOTHES are about to go!” Dad roared with laughter, leaving those gym jocks speechless, in there own puddle of drool, two of them now, boning humiliatingly, stammering to strap their throbbing cock-shafts into the waistband of their gym shorts. As I looked around, out of the bubble of my disbelief, there was a whole crowd of people with their smartphones out, taking pictures, taking videos. Eventually we were asked to leave by the manager, but once again, my dad couldn't have cared less. He strut his huge and nearly naked, grotesquely hairy, old man physique, right out into the parking lot, right out into broad public daylight. He didn't even care about the clothes he left in the locker room, knowing, laughably, that they would no longer fit. “UN-fucking-believable!” Dad roared, adjusting his entirely horse-sized manhood beneath the wheel. “Did you SEE their faces!?” He continued boasting to me in the car, on the drive back to his place. As if things couldn't get any worse, when we got to a red light, about five minutes later driving, dad, besides continually fixing his out of control aroused musky-old man cock, began playfully flexing his now mammoth and hairy musclebound thighs, thirty-four inches each from the looks of it, right against the underside of the steering wheel, wondering if it was going to “POP OFF”, he kept on repeatedly joking. “D-DAD, don't break the car!” I whined worryingly. “Why NOT, son?” Dad chucked, no doubt mustering up another joke. “It'll just turn into good scrap-metal for me to LIFT!” He roared with laughter, raising, more like hauling, his colossal silver muscle arm over my comparatively small little head, still being at a red light, he began twisting and squeezing his power striations against the thin metal roof of his old Honda Civic. I watched looking up, with my mouth once again hanging wide open, seeing the metal actually warp and make the most god-awful groaning sound. *CRRREAKKKKKK* Dad just kept it though, even after the light turned green, flexing his huge skull-sized peaking hairy bicep relentlessly against of the ceiling of the car, almost like he was trying to blow the whole roof off. He giggled after about a minute, like some innocent little boy, playing with his new toy, three or four cars honking behind us, as he no doubt fantasized about another muscle destructing scenario. “HAHA, guess I better invest in a convertible…” Dad joked, smirking right at me, winking. He looked so stuffed into that tiny car already, it would have actually made sense. To think, when we had left the house this morning, he looked like a mere average bodybuilder, an old one, but now he was this total stage- ready competition-crushing muscle hunk, insatiable for more size, a desire to grow endlessly. The next two days were our off days, Saturday and Sunday. The whole situation had me absolutely biting my nails, sick to my stomach even, especially about the growing part. Even when I watch the videos online that people posted, “Huge Grandpa Growing”, over and over again, I just didn't understand how he was doing it, how this whole thing was even possible. Luckily, dad, wasn't to savvy with computers. “Morning, DAD!” I showed up to his house Monday morning, for our usual pre-workout breakfast. Usually the old man would be already cooking in the kitchen, but this morning, there was only these loud beastly grunts, emanating from the bathroom down the hall, the running shower. I know it was wrong of me, it was so wrong of me to even think it, but with an enormous gulp, I began, feeling intoxicated by the prospect, making my way down the long dark hallway, seeing the light at the end, the open bathroom doorway, a view of his naked figure after a long weekend. He was without a doubt jacking-off, the old-pervert still had it in him. As I turned the corner, even I had to cover my mouth from the loud escaping gasp about to be released, but it was tragically too late. “Is that YOU, son?” Dad’s voice bellowed. He was huge, monstrous, godly, a voice so deep, it vibrated my ear drums. The shadowed outline of his physique, this totally door-wide gigantic muscular backside, even through all the steam, I could tell, his shoulder width must have easily stretched up to four feet wide. Sitting below, two watermelon-sized glutes slammed against the steamed glass, the silhouette of these two tree-trunk sized legs, with nowhere to go, bloated and stuffed so largely together with muscle, it was a wonder how he could even move, how he even got into the shower in the first place. I knew I had to say something... “Y-Yeah…” I stuttered nervously, shaking, creeping out from behind the corner. “S-Should I start making us b-breakfast, Dad?” “SO glad you're here, squirt.” Dad blatantly ignored my question. “I need help WASHING my backside. There’s just TOO much muscle for me to move, HAHA!” My eyes bulged as he laughed, right out of my sockets, wanting to cover my ears from his tremendously deep voice, the loud thumping of the shower with each small movement of his no doubt gigantic feet. I couldn't believe what he was asking, what I was still seeing. We had seen each other naked tons of times, even when I was growing up as a kid, but this was different, this felt GAY! “U-Uh…” I stuttered, looking down at my bulging cock. “OH-come on, son! Don't be a QUEER about this.” Dad bellowed demeaningly. “Your DAD needs help.” He made it sound so serious, but I could hear that undertone, that snicker. I undressed anyway, knowing what was about to happen, whimpering at my misfortune. There was no going back from this... ******************************************** READ PART 3 HERE Comments are appreciated !
  24. EDIT: Index of Chapters: Chapters 1-3: See below Chapter 4: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=129914 Chapter 5: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=130640 Chapter 6: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=131076 Chapter 7: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=131485 Chapter 8: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=132071 Chapter 9: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=133087 Chapter 10: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=133988 Chapter 11: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=135527 Chapter 12: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=135528 Chapter 13: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=136405 Chapter 14: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=137921 Chapter 15: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=139040 Chapter 16: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=139903 Chapter 17: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=140806 Chapter 18: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=142531 Chapter 19A: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=143838 Chapter 19B: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=144296 Chapter 20: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/11447-dads-lost-glory-years-updated-may-26-ch-20/?do=findComment&comment=144513 So I've noticed lately there's been a real slow-down in new material so I thought i would help out. I have lurked here for years so I thought I should pay my dues and post a story. I haven't written anything since way back in high school English so I have no idea if this is any good at all. Hopefully it doesn't suck. Also, the first few chapters of the is going to be very similar to a well-known story by Musclegod300 (and one my absolute favorites) until I get far enough to take a unique direction. I promise I am not trying to rip you off MG300, please take it as the ultimate compliment, as you are in the top 3 of my favorite muscle story authors ;-). +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Dad's Lost Glory Years Prologue: I had just graduated high school and the summer of my last year at home was winding down. My name is Jed Graves and I had spent the last few days packing up what I could and preparing myself mentally to leave my father behind. Not so much for my sake, I didn't think. More for his. My father, Chad Graves, was an amazing man who had lived a hard life. Growing up he was, plain and simple, a stud. Ever since he was very young he was always one of the most athletic kids in his class. He excelled at every athletic sport he played, even earning starting positions at linebacker on our high school football and baseball teams by his sophomore year. He was a shoo-in for all-state honors in football before a freak back injury ended his season right before the playoffs began. During play he was awkwardly bent over backwards and was nearly paralyzed. The doctors let him know he was very lucky he came out of it with only minor injuries. Consequently, with his athletic prowess, charming yet humble personality and stunningly rugged good looks he was very popular, especially with the ladies. He dated around in his early high school years, even snagging the interest of some the upper class girls. Many of the upper class boys wanted to hate him for stealing some of their women but he such a charming and fun personality that he endeared himself to all. He fell in love with a woman that would become his wife and then my mother when he was just 16 years old. She was the same age and of course, athletic and gorgeous, a track star in her own right. Shortly after came the biggest test of my parents' young life. The virile young man got my mom pregnant and I as born right before his 17th birthday. My father and my mother never once considered terminating the pregnancy or offering me up for adoption. They decided to raise me as best as they could, with my father giving up his athletic pursuits to take part time jobs at nights after school to help raise me. This was certainly a difficult time for both of my parents. With some assistance from my Dad's Grandparents they were able to raise me to toddler-hood while maintaining their slightly above average GPA's and graduating high school. Throughout my infant years my father continued to find jobs here and there. Once he had graduated he settled nicely into a construction job that was ran by a family friend. With his strong, 6'1 frame, the interviewer knew he would be able to haul around the heavy equipment and materials with ease and he was a hired on the spot. He proved to be a hard and courteous worker. He took pride in his work and he knew this would be his only form of exercise that his robust body craved while I was growing up. While my presence was undoubtedly tough on my young parents, they both loved me and each other unequivocally and never once regretted their decision to have me. Our small family was able to scrape by via modest, yet comfortable means through the hard work of both of my young parents. I adored both of my parents and saw my father as my own personal superhero. I especially loved when we would go to neighborhood pool and he would use his thick arms to toss me up in the air so I could try to make the biggest splash I could. Unfortunately, life has a way of throwing you curveballs and when I was 8 years old my mother was killed in a car accident during a winter storm while driving home from her job. It of course hit both my dad and I very hard. However, like every challenge that ever faced him, my father soldiered on and worked even harder to love me and give the best life he could. Growing up my genetic background was easily evident as I also excelled at nearly every sport I did. I too was able to secure a spot of the varsity football team from an early point in my high school career. While I likely could've been just as good at or exceeded my father's accomplishments I never really had that killer athletic instinct that truly elite athletes have. I was happy with just being “good” as opposed to “the star” was enough for me. I saw sports mainly as a good way to maintain my healthy physique throughout high school and rather than as a means to advance my athletic career. I grew to match my father in height at 6'1 on a solid, but not ripped 190 lb frame. In fact, I actually excelled more at academics, earning myself a engineering scholarship to the large state university. Even though I more heavily pursued academics in lieu of athletics my father never once wavered in his support of me. I honestly think he was more proud of me for my intellectual side as he had first-hand knowledge of how difficult life can be without a college degree. While I was growing up my father maintained his healthy strong physique with his hard work at the construction job. Some aged-ness did catch up to him in he form of a layer of softness around his large muscles, but we has still a stud. At only 35 years old he still had no receding hairline. His dark hair was kept short and he had an angular jawline with an almost permanent 5 o'clock shadow that would be the envy of any man. To tease me, my female friends constantly reminded me of his rugged DILF status much to my chagrin. Honestly, I couldn't blame them or deny that I hoped I could become half the man he was when I reached his age. I often told my Dad he should get out and date more often than he did but he never pursued it much further, preferring to spend his free time with me. So here we were, my father and I making the 5-hour drive to the university to drop my off for my freshman year. We moved my stuff into my dorm then went our for a nice meal before saying our goodbyes. The parting was very difficult for both of us, it was the first time I saw my father tear up since my mother passed away. We hugged each other and then he took off for home and I began my college career Chapter 1: Thanksgiving Break College began with a flurry as I settled into my new routine. I called my father at least once a week as we kept in touch. Engineering classes, as well as a regular workout routine, kept me more than busy. It was during the first month that my father told me he had been promoted to a site manager position at his construction job. I was super excited for him as it meant a big pay raise. The only downside was that it meant he would be spending more time in the construction office rather than outside doing physical labor. Due to the lack of physical labor, when my father came down to visit for Thanksgiving he had put on about 20 lbs of mostly fat, bringing him to still healthy, if just a bit soft 225 lbs. My workout routine had been going steadily and I was up to about 200 lbs, adding about 10 lbs. Of course, with the nearly ulimited amount of food at the school cafeterio it was probably only ½ muscle. When I first saw my dad I of course playfully had to give him some ribbing. “Hey Pops, it's great to see you again,” I said as we wrapped our arms around each other in a typical man-hug. I could feel his belly push against me. “Woah, old man what's going on here? Too many hot pockets?” I joked as I playfully jabbed his midsection. He heartily chuckled. “Yeah son, all that time sitting in the construction office this past fall has taken it's toll. Last week I really noticed so I up and joined that new gym that opened up a few blocks from our house this past summer.” The gym he was talking about, 'UrbanFlex', was a national chain known for being a mecca for serous workout addicts. “Oh yeah, that place? You think you can keep up with the dudes that go there?” “Of course, son! I know my way around a weight room even though I haven't been in one a long while. I spent a lot of time in one before you came along and ruined my workout life,” he shot at me with a joking wink. “I can see you are still putting some time in the gym. You are looking more and more grownup, I'm not sure I like. I miss my little guy.” “Aww, Pops, you're embarrassing me. And thanks! I'm up about 10 lbs. Just trying to get half a studly as you, old man!” “You'll never match all this beef, boy!” he said as he threw his arms in front of him for a mock most-muscular pose. I absolutely loved my father and his playful attitude. We had great Thanksgiving weekend here in the university town hanging out and of course, eating way too much once we settled on a restaurant. After our meal we parted ways and looked forward to visiting each other for over Christmas break. Chapter 2: Christmas Break. Four days before Christmas I ended up sharing a ride with one of my female classmates from high school for the trip back home. It was lightly snowing when she dropped me off at my house. With my duffel bag full of clothes slung around my shoulder I entered in the house. My father instantly bound in from the kitchen and wrapped me in one of his patented crushing dad-hugs. Unlike at Thanksgiving, I instantly noticed there was no fluff pushing at me from his belly. After he released and held me at arms length I was able to get a good look at him. He definitely looked much trimmer in his slightly baggy blue t-shirt. He always maintained his fairly muscular arms but now I able to see some more definite veins on his forearms and his face seemed tighter. “Wow, dad you great! What happened to that old-man flab?” “Well I knew this studly young buck was coming home so I decided to get rid of it keep up with him!” He quickly raised his shirt and patted his slim, semi-hairy belly. While he far from ripped, he had a taught waist that was far cry from the pooch he sported at Thanksgiving. “Been hitting that new gym hard. I've lost about all of my office fat. I'm down to 200 lbs, I feel small now just like you, haha,” he added in jest. “You mean you're now studly like me!” I retorted. “Haha, yeah, exactly, we are two peas in a pod! Maybe over break I take you to the gym with me.” “Awesome, pops. That'd be great. I certainly don't want to fall out of routine over break.” We enjoyed a great Christmas. We went to visit my Grandparents and caught up with the extended family. Of course we ate way too much food. I was surprised at how much my father was shoveling into his mouth. “Woah, careful dad, you're gonna gain all that fat back you keep eating like that.” He chuckled, “Maybe son, but I thought I'd indulge myself since its a holiday. Plus actually I've been eating much more heartily since thanksgiving so I'm not too worried.” The day after Christmas we decided to get back into our gym routine. Thirty minutes before we left Dad opened a kitchen cabinet full of supplement bottles, big and small. He started mixing various powders into a cup. “Geez, Dad, are you going a bit overboard with all that?” “No way son. With my new raise and you out of the house I decided I need a hobby. So I'm going see if I can really take this workout thing seriously. Besides, so far I can't argue with the results!” He again patted his trim waist. “You want a preworkout shake, son?” “No thanks, Dad. You go ahead. You need it more than me, old man,” I replied as I faux-punched his shoulder. “Haha, we'll see. The car's warmed up, let's head to the gym.” We grabbed our duffels and headed to the gym. On the way the pre-workout must've been kicking in as I could tell my dad was getting antsy. “Can't wait to throw around some iron, son. This five day break has got me itchin' to get back to work.” We got the gym and headed into the locker room to change. I had heard of these UrbanFlex gyms but it was the first time I had been to one. It truly was a hardcore gym. Unpainted brick walls, loud pounding rock music, a smell of sweat that lingered in the air. The clientele was definitely a step above your average fitness club. Clearly, coming here for the past month was giving my father good motivation. While changing I got good look at his progress. He still had those thick, full, yet soft muscles, but the fat had clearly been melting off. While he still wasn't what I would call ripped, the definition and veins were just beginning to show all over. Standing next to him with my shirt off, his youthful visage and our identical heights and weight, we almost looked like twins. As he changed into his shorts I couldn't help but take a glance at what he was packing. With our superior genes I never got any complaints from my dates. I hung soft at 5” inches and only plumped up to just under 7 inches. Still nicely above average but I was always just slightly disappointed that I was more of a shower than a grower. When my father dropped his shorts he hung about equally to me in length, but was MUCH thicker. It looked like a flesh colored Red Bull can hanging between his legs. I tried to suppress my surprise but I think he noticed and I thought I saw a wry smirk appear on his face as turned and pulled up his underwear. I could only hope that I wasn't quite done growing and could someday match that thick monster. We headed out to the weight room and my Dad gave me the most intense chest and shoulder workout I have ever had. My father attacked the weights with a savagery I could only imagine. As we entered the weight room Pops looked like a caged tiger. As all lifting bros seem to do, we started with barbell bench press. We ended up having very similar strength levels but my father was clearly superior in form and intensity. We worked our way up to 265 lbs. I was able to get it for eight ugly reps but he got it ten, in perfect strict form. We then worked our way through incline and decline dumbbell benches and finally cable flies to finish off the chest. Each set was nearly identical as my father was just able to outdo me on every lift. I couldn't tell if he was getting his normal reps or if he was purposely trying to make sure he outdid me on everything. We then did a full shoulder routine of military presses, lateral and front raises and Arnold presses. During each exercise my father had also been giving me “helpful tips” as he called them, correcting my form and showing me the the best way to perform each exercise. I was getting a little annoyed and I thought he sounded like an overzealous personal trainer. By the end of the workout his light grey t-shirt had turned dark as it was soaked with sweat and was taught against his pumped muscles. I had the usual sweat spots under my armpits and under my chest but looked nothing like the drenched man next to me. “Damn, Pops, look at your forearms, your veins are unreal!” “Yeah, I always get a great pump. I love that feeling you know! You can almost feel your muscles growing, I love it!” Dad was starting to sound like one of those jocky frat guys I hear at the campus gym. When we finished this big handsome guy came over and started talking to us. My dad introduced him as Ted. He was huge, he looked like one of those real bodybuilder guys. He was just shorter than us, about 6' but probably 225 lbs of bulging muscle. He had short brown hair styled up and forward to a point. You could tell he was one of those serious lifter guys as his legs and arms were shaved and he had a light tan even though is was the middle of winter. Plus, he was wearing one those small stringer tank tops you tend to see the big muscle guys wearing. I guessed him to be about 30 years old. “Teddy, my man, how's it going!” Dad said as he slapped Ted's meaty shoulder. “This is my son I've told you about.” The larger cheerful man replied, “Doin' well Chad! Nice to meet, you Jed. Wow, you are a spitting image of your old man, you two look like brothers! You're father is a beast, I've never seen anyone who lifts as hard as him. I learned a couple of weeks ago not to come distract him in the middle of his workout. He was practically screaming at me in front of the whole gym to leave him alone. Won't make that mistake again!” “I already told I was sorry about that, but yes, don't bother me when I'm in my zone.” Dad playfully punched Ted in his chest. Ted and my Dad were having a complete bro-down. Dad added, “I started lifting with Ted just after Thanksgiving. He was the one who taught me how to do all the exercises correctly. About a week ago his work schedule shifted so we don't get to lift together much anymore.” Ted replied, “Well it looks like you're still makin' good progress! Let's hope those newbie gains don't slow down.” “Oh I'll make sure they won't,” my father said with a seriousness that almost seemed ominous. “Well, nice to meet you Jed, see ya' around Chad-man.” And with that Ted turned his wide, defined back to us and headed back to his work out. “Damn, Dad no wonder you have been making such good gains, that guy was huge. His lats were enormous!” “Yeah, he is huge, huh. He told me he's even placed highly in a couple of the local physique shows. Ted showed me how to do things right with the lifting, diet and supplementation. I owe a lot of this to him,” he mentioned as he gestured to his sweat soaked body. On the way home Dad pulled out a couple of pre-made shakes and handed one to me. I almost couldn't drink it because it was so thick. When we got home Dad immediately headed to the kitchen and started pulling out Tupperware containers full of chicken breasts and vegetables. “Son, would you grab the peanut butter out of the pantry?” In the pantry I did a double take. Clearly, a lot of his newly expendable income had been spent on improving his body. Along with our normal foodstuffs it was full of giant supplement bottles of every kind. Proteins, BCAAs, glutamines, vitamins, pills, and other chemical names that I had no idea what they where. “Holy crap, Dad. Do you think you are maybe taking this lifting thing a little to seriously?”. “Haha. Maybe Son! But as the results have kept coming I keep trying adding new things. I've always loved working my body but now that I mostly sit in a office the lifting really helps me de-stress. Plus, if it continues to give me the added benefit of being healthy and looking good then I'm can't complain!” “True, I guess I can't argue with that, Pops.” We sat down to consume a post-workout meal. My father practically inhaled his food. He had to have consumed three whole chicken breasts along with a heaping pile of broccoli and peanut butter toast. All I could do was stare as he just kept shoveling it in. My mind flashed back to this summer watching the hot dog eating contest on TV during the Fourth of July. As he was finishing his meal he finally looked up at me and gave an embarrassed, wry smile. “Sorry, I always get really hungry after a good workout. You not hungry, son?” Breaking my stupor, “Oh, yeah, sorry I guess I was just got lost in my own world.” I started eating. I guessed I ate about 1/3 of the total that he did. “Sorry, like you I guess I tend to get lost in MY own little world when I'm eating. Like Ted has told me, you have to eat big to get big!” “So you are trying to get bigger, Dad? I thought you were just trying to lose some weight to get back into shape?” “Well, sure I want to get bigger, son. What man wouldn't like to be bigger and stronger? I love you to death son and I don't blame you for anything, but when you came around I sorta had to sidetrack my athletic pursuits. I guess now that I have the time and means I'm just making up for lost time,” he said as he patted me on the back. “I guess you could say I'm finally getting to experience my glory years, even if just a tad late.” “I get it Dad. I think you should go for it. You're looking great. You're gonna have to start beating the chicks off with a stick if you keep it up!” I said as he guffawed and walked out of the room. This routine kept up for the next two weeks, the rest of my winter break before I had to return to school. We would go to the gym two days on and one day off. Dad continued to be a madman in the gym and eat like a horse afterwards. Two days after New Years we were at the grocery store when I ran into two of my good female classmates from high school. Amy and Mandy were also back in town visiting their families. They both went to a community college that was only about an hour away. They were two of the more attractive girls from my class and I was proud to say that Mandy and I even dated for a while during our sophomore year. She was actually my first. Inheriting my father's good looks certainly never afforded me any trouble with opposite sex. “Jed! Great to see you!” they both squealed and ran up to hug me. We proceeded to talk about how our early college careers were going. While we were talking they kept glancing at my father. “Jed, is this your roommate?” Amy asked. “HAHA!” my Dad let out huge belly laugh and slapped my back forcefully. “No, girls. This is my father.” “SERIOUSLY JED! Wow, Mr. Graves you look so young!” said Mandy. “It so nice to meet you.” As they shook hands and acquainted with each other I noticed the girls seemed to be acting strange, giggling at his cheesy Dad jokes, whipping their hair. That's when I figured it out. They were totally flirting with my Dad!! “Well I see where Jed got his great looks from,” Mandy stated as they finished up their conversation. “And his body!” Amy added as my face blushed a deep red. She also reached over and gently put her hand on my dad's flannel shirt covered arm. She was totally feeling my Dad up! All the while they were chatting you couldn't pry the giant glowing grin off my father's face with a crowbar. This was obviously a huge boost to his self esteem. “Well it was nice meeting you ladies, we'll be seeing you around” and with that we parted ways. As we checked out and walked back to the car my father seemed to standing up little straighter, had his chest puffed out a bit more. And, ahem, it tought it looked another part of him was bulging more than usual. That night I received a whole slew of text messages from Amy and Mandy telling me how hot my dad was. They were even joking about me giving him their phone number. At, least I think they were joking... It was a little over a week later when we had our last workout together before I had to head back to school. That day we did sort of a full body circuit routine. “To really shock the body,” as my dad put it. I was getting more used to it, but his intensity was still nothing short of intimidating. If I weren't his son I would've been completely scared to go near him. Over the last two weeks the weights he was using were slowing ticking up. Grunting with aplomb, he put every ounce of effort he could in to each rep of each exercise. While it was intimidating, it was also very motivating and I too seemed to be making great short terms progress over the last two and half weeks. After the workout, my father once again soaked, we headed to the locker room. “Hey, bud. I've been texting with Ted and he says I should keep a log of my progress. I brought a notebook and measuring tape. Could you help check my stats?” I thought this would be a little awkward but I agreed. He disrobed to his tight black spandex underwear and, holy crap! We had been coming straight home from the gym since that first workout before Christmas. Since that workout two weeks ago he had noticeably improved. A little less fat, a little better definition, a little better vascularity and of course, a little more size, all over his entire body. To try to control my shock I undressed and and jumped on the scale. I was at 195. I had lost a few pounds but I could tell it was all fat thanks to the intense workouts. “Looking good champ, let me try.” He stepped on and the small weight slammed against the top the balance. He adjusted the weight. “209 pounds” He stated enthusiastically. I was almost aghast. “Wow Dad, 9 lbs is a lot to gain in two weeks. It looks like you gained even more than that in muscle. You've definitely lost some fat, too.” “Yeah I think so too, Son.” He pinched a small fold of skin on his waist. There wasn't much there to grab. You could definitely make out his abs under the ever shrinking layer of fat around his waist. We measured his arms. A nice solid 17.5 inches. Chest, 48 inches. Thighs, 25 inches. He always had huge thighs, that was his genetic gift, if you don't count everything else about him. Waist, 33 inches. “Hey son, what sort of guns are you sporting?” I really didn't want to measure. I knew I had good arms but also knew his were bigger. No man likes to have it pointed out that they are smaller than another man. We had about the same shape, but he had just a bit more size. “I don't know Dad. Hey we better shower and get going.” I tried to distract him. “Nah, let's see those pythons first,” my Dad said again sounding like a frat jock. He wrapped the tape around my arm, “16.5 inches, very respectable son. Certainly not quite on this level though!” At that he through up a double bicep pose and I'll be damned if he didn't look like one of those physique models. Ya, know, the guys who are just not quite big enough to be bodybuilders so they cut all the fat away to get ripped, but not huge. A little less fat and he could certainly hop up on a stage with them. It was a little emasculating. Again my Dad seemed to puff up with confidence as we strode to the shower. “You're going to have to step up your workouts at school if you want to keep up with me!” “Aw, Dad, I'm fine with the way I look. Still better than most guys out there” He shook his head, “Well, suit yourself son. I'm going to go ahead put on a bit more size.” “Well Dad, don't be surprised if you slow down, those beginner gains are always the best.” “Yeah, Ted has mentioned that to me too. Hopefully I can prove you both wrong, haha,” he winked and headed to the showers. After the shower we headed home and he had, of course, another gut busting meal. Sadly, my winter break ended and I headed back to campus the next day. I was immensely proud of my Dad, he was handling his empty nest syndrome wonderfully. On the drive home all I could think about was how much better he was looking. I could only hope to someday look half as good as him. Chapter 3: Spring Break I quickly fell back into the routine of school, which as an engineer meant a lot of study time. The first year and half of engineering school mainly consists of “weed-out” classes. These are classes that are very difficult and are designed to make sure only the worthy students make it through to the upper level courses. During these classes about half my engineering peers won't cut it and will choose different majors. Unfortunately, all this studying meant I was spending less and less time at the campus rec center. My father, on the other hand, was apparently still “crushing it” as he repeatedly noted in his text messages. He had been texting me more and more since I came back to college. I don’t know if he was just excited about his progress or was purposely trying to show off. I suspect a little of both. He had also started emailing me new workouts that he was finding on the web as well as links to sites about nutrition and new supplements. All I could do was roll my eyes at everything he sent me. He was totally obsessed with this workout thing! Apparently, Ted’s work schedule switched again and so he and my Dad were now lifting together again. According to my Dad’s texts they were even hanging out as friends more often. Dad even mentioned them going to the bars a couple of times on the weekend together. Was my Dad, the guy who never dated, going out on the prowl? I was glad to read to that. Growing up my Dad never spent a lot of time hanging out with friends. I knew it was because of the long hours he worked to support our family. So I was happy that he was making some friends, as cheesy as it sounds. One day in February he asked me how my progress was coming along. I told him I was only going to the gym a couple times a week due to all my studying. He replied that he was proud of me not taking my college career for granted. Then he added “Be careful that you don’t become one of those little guys ;-). I don’t want to be TOO much bigger than you the next time I see you”. My heart thumped in my chest. How much more had he grown? Surely his newbie gains had to have slowed down, right? Finally in March, after an exhaustive week of midterms it was time to head back home again for spring break. Some of my friends were headed west to go skiing and invited me along, but I was still a relatively poor college boy so I decided to forego that and save my money and go home. So I hopped in the car and started back for along, needed week off from school at home. I drank a bit too much water on the way home so when I finally got there I was in a rush to use the bathroom. I had to park on the street as Ted's red pickup was in the side slot of the driveway. I barged in the front door and saw Ted's wide, tanned, muscular back in a stringer tank top. The back I remembered from January. He was sitting at the kitchen table facing away from me reading a magazine. “Hey Ted!”, I shouted as I hoofed it to the bathroom. Right as I turned to enter the bathroom the door swung open and I crashed into a meaty pair of pecs in tight t-shirt. I was majorly confused for a second as I realized, I crashed into Ted! “Jed, my man, good to see you!” he said. “Yeah, you too. 'Scuse me, nature calls,” as I squeezed by him and entered the bathroom. While relieving myself I finally had time to process. I had ran into Ted. That means that wide, muscular back at the kitchen table must've been...Dad! Holy cow! From behind he looked huge, just like Ted! I finished my business and headed back out the living room room where I again bounced into some, semi-hairy huge pecs. “Champ, you made it! I missed you, buddy!” I heard as my newly enlarged father wrapped his thick arms around me in a crushing father-son manhug. Once again I was having trouble processing as I was squeezed in a cocoon of rock hard flesh. He smelled like a total jock. That combination of recently showered soap smell combined with just a hint of lingering sweat and muskiness. As he released me I backed up a took a look at him in full. He was standing next to Ted and they now looked more like brothers and than my Dad and I. With a bright grin plastered on his face he let me soak him in. Finally he opened his arms wide, looked down at himself, then back to me and asked, “What do you think?” “Damn, Dad. You are pumped as hell! Have you just been living in the gym since Christmas!?” My father threw back that handsome head and guffawed. His thick, fireplug neck bulging with veins I had never seen before. “Just about, son! I love it. Everyday I feel like I'm getting better and better and getting bigger and bigger. I've got more energy than I've had since high school.” He was standing up straight and had his balled hands resting on his hips in a total superman pose. Only, he was more ruggedly handsome than any actor who had ever played superman. “Wow, that's awesome Pops, I'm still in shock.” “Everyone seems to be saying that to me lately, but I love it! You should see the stares I've been getting when I go to the grocery store or out to the bars. I can't lie it's been a huge ego boost! Plus it's been fun to make 'lil Teddy here jealous, haha!” Ted playfully punched my father's meaty shoulder. The connection made a meaty 'thwack' but my father didn't flinch at all. “Hey! Watch it old man! You been killing it in the gym but you still haven't quite caught up to me!” “YET!” my father retorted. “Hey, Jed, take a look at 19 inches of pure muscle!” And with that he threw up a single arm bicep pose in front of Ted. HOLY SHIT. A big solid ball of muscle mounded up toward the ceiling right in front of Ted's face. I had seen my Dad jokingly flex his arms a few times while wrestling with me while I growing up. He always had large, sturdy arms. But in the past when he would flex his arms would just sort of tighten up. Now, instead of just tightening up his arm actually grew into a softball of muscle. There was a definite line between his biceps and where his meaty triceps reached toward the ground. Running along his biceps was a large cephalic vein you usually only see on the truly muscular guys. All I could do was stare as another wave of emasculation and jealousy flowed through me. Next, that feeling got worse. Ted maneuvered himself around Dad's arm and flexed his opposite arm right in front of my father's arm. His own tanned, massive arm flexed upward and eclipsed my father's huge gun, but only just so. Gawd, it was like watching two bodybuilder's jockying for position during a final posedown of a competition. All the while both egging each other and laughing. It was a muscle lover's dream. “Jed, who's bigger?” Ted asked, still nudging his shoulder into my Dad as they continued their frolicky upright wrestling match. My mouth hung agape and I tried to form the words to reply. “Ted, ya big showoff we know you are bigger,” my dad jumped in. “Ted's bigger but you are really close, Dad.” My father lit up like a Christmas tree at this. My father slapped Ted's big back. “I'll take it! Being compared to this big oaf is a big compliment. We measured the other day, this gun is only one inch shy of big Ted, here.” Ted added “Yeah your pops is right there with me. I weighed in at 232 lb yesterday and what were you, Chad? 220?” “224! Right on your tail big guy!” DAMN! My dad had put on another 15 lbs of solid mass since I last visited! “I keep thinking your old man's gains will slow down but he just keeps growing. He's been matching all my lifts in the last couple of days. You're father is a beast.” Ted then grabbed his coat and headed out. “Well I gotta head back home so I'll give you some catching up time. Good to see ya again Jed, enjoy your break!” Ted left and I and my father and I just stood there staring at each other as I took him in. He looked like he could step on a stage for a novice show with just a couple weeks of dieting to really slice down what little remaining fat he had. “I'm really glad you're back champ. Hey son, no offense but you look a little smaller. Have you stopped lifting?” “Well with studying I haven't been able to stay as consistent. Down to about 190 lbs. Engineering classes are hard.” “Well, I'm glad you are staying on top of you classes and not wasting your education. Even though you could've been a great athlete I'm so proud that you are using that brain of yours. Good thing your mother was smart so you could inherit some intelligence, haha.” “Dad, stop you are one of the smartest, most down-to-earth people I know, even if you didn't go to college.” Dad gave me one of those one-arm side hugs, “Thanks Son. I do hope you can get back into your gym routine, I need someone strong enough to spot me when we lift this summer.” And so began my Spring Break week with Dad. On Sunday I went with him to the gym. I was almost afraid of what I was going to see. Since I was out of practice I was going to do a full body workout, while Dad was hitting up chest. I told him I would spot him in between my sets. We went into the locker room to change. Dad slid off his pants and took off his shirt and proceeded to open his locker. He was wearing a black par of spandex underwear that clung to his meaty thighs and ass. He had a prominent bulge. Was he horned up? It looked like it was bulging more than I remember. He looked like a physique model in his shorts. Like one of those guys you see on Men's Health covers. Not overly huge, but just big and bulgy enough to put those ripped, yet skinny models to shame. A light tan with just a dusting of hair over his front and a bit more hair on his legs. I've mentioned before that Dad always had slightly over-proportioned legs. It's a good thing his spandex trunks were stretchy or else his thighs would've torn the underwear after one set of heavy squats. My dad caught me looking at him again. “You're going to have to stop staring or else it's going to go to my head,” he said with a smug grin. He put on a stringer tank that left no secrets of his buffed physique. We proceeded on with our workouts. Dad began with bench press. I was going through my sets when I noticed he was up to 265 lbs on the bench, the same amount we ended with during Christmas break. I went over to spot him. “You can do a couple more of your sets I'm still warming up.” Wait, what?!? He was still warming up? “Dad, are you sure? This is the most I've ever seen you lift.” “Really, son? This is all I was doing at Christmas? Damn, I was weak.” He immediately saw my embarrassment and apologized. “Oh sorry Son, I was just joking to myself. I know this is what you lifted at Christmas and trust me it is impressive for a young guy like you.” “Gee, thanks Dad” I gave him a wry smile. So I proceeded to do a set of lat pull downs and dumbbell shoulder presses. When I was done I felt a big heavy hand fall on my shoulder. “I'll take a spot now, champ!” “Ok, Dad.” We walked over to the bench. Holy Shit. He had 335 lbs loaded onto he bench. “Geezus, Dad, this is a lot of weight! Ok so are you going for a low rep set of 3-4 reps?” He chuckled that deep,masculine rumbling chuckle his. “Not quite, son. I should be able to get 10 reps easy, just keep an eye on me.” “TEN REPS! This is like 70 more lbs then you were doing three months ago!” “Yeah, it sure is.” He proceeded to bench 10 reps in quick, strict form. Letting the bar come down to touch above his nipples, and then with a light, sexy grunt, lifted the bar straight up, 10 times. After the first set he did the same with 345 and 355 lbs. On the last set I had to help him on the 10th rep. But I was still stunned out of my mind regarding his impressive lifts. My dad got up off the bench after his last set and turned to face me. He now had worked up a light sheen of sweat that covered his body. In just his stringer tank you could see his pecs were red and swollen with effort. His nipples nearly pointing down due to the impressive shelf he had going on. He let out a big exhale “Woo, that was a great pump.” He swung his arms back and forth to keep loose. Every time his arms swung forward his upper pecs bunched upward toward his chin, deepening the already impressive cleft in between. “Shit, Dad...” was all I could say. He warned me against it, but he had clearly left me behind on his lifts. It was amazing and emasculating all at the same time. “He he, thanks Son.” The rest of week was more of the same. Dad continued to blow me away with all his lifts, which all seemed to be 50-100 lbs more than I could ever do. He also continued to blow me away at the dinner table. His meal portions were even larger than the last time I saw him. He had to be eating over 6000 calories per day. Dad was also spending a lot more time on his phone lately. Apparently, Ted had got him set up on Tinder and his phone was constantly buzzing. I certainly couldn't blame all the ladies messaging him. I always heard my Dad was a stud. With his improved body he was now on another level of manhood. I felt bad for all the other local men in the area for having to compete with him. On late Friday afternoon of that week a buddy of mine and I were heading to a city that was about 3 hours away for a concert we had both been wanting to see. Dad wasn't disappointed, he said he had been chatting with a girl from Tinder and that they would to meet on Friday night since I was going to be gone. We headed to the concert but when we got there we found out the the lead singer had come down with the flu and the show had been canceled. We were obviously bummed but were assured we would get a full refund. So we went to a nice restaurant, ate and then decided to head home early. I was wondering how my Dad's date was going. On the drive home I sent him a message letting him know we would be home early. I didn't get any response so I figured it was going well. Finally we got home about 11:00pm. My buddy dropped me off and headed to the front door. As I was about there the door flung open and pretty young woman frantically ran out looking unkempt and disheveled. . It was obviously she didn't want me to see her. And I then I realized why. Is was my friend and fellow classmate, Amy! “Oh, um, hi Jed” she said embarrassed. He hair was a mess “I was just...um...gotta go I'll see ya around.” HOLY CRAP. Amy was my Dad's date. And I know sex hair when I see it. She had totally hooked up with my DAD! My dad showed up at the door shirtless in a pair of gym shorts looking like sexy sated warrior. “Have a good night Amy.” “Om...um...thanks Mr. Graves...I mean, Chad...” she stumbled out. I stared at her in shock as she walked down the drive to her car on the street. “Dad, you know she was in my class right? Don't you think she's a little...young?” “Yes, I know. Son. And don't worry I'm wasn't looking for a relationship. We just had a little fun, that's all.” He stood there leaning against the doorway, proud as a peacock. The moon light shining on his bulging pecs and abs. My dad was a total jock stud. The next morning continued to be a little awkward around Dad. He noticed “Son, please don't make this weird. She's 19 years old and an adult and I'm a red-blooded grown man. Sometimes I have...needs.” I just hid my face in my hands as he spoke. Finally I relented. “I get it Dad, but maybe try to avoid my classmates, if you could.” “Heh, well I'll try son. But I tell ya though, it's getting harder and harder to avoid. It's like this bod of mine has become a supercharged chick-magnet. And I plan on supercharging it further.” “Seriously, how much further do you think you can go? You are already HUGE.” “Well, I think I'm decently big but far from HUGE.” He put an emphasis on the word “HUGE” with a faux most-muscular pose. His body still instantly tightened and seemed to pump up even larger. “But, Ted is going to help me see if I can really get in the realm of huge.” “What?! You're not talking steroids are you? Pops, please don't do anything stupid to your health.” “Buddy, you have nothing to worry about. Ted is going to hook me up with his doctor who prescribes him some HGH and testosterone. And the fact that is is a real doctor means he can monitor me to make sure nothing goes wrong.” “I don't know, Dad. I'm don't like it.” Dad came over and put his hefty right arm on my shoulder and looked me in the eye with a serious face. “Son, please trust me on this. I've been doing my research to make sure I'm not doing anything to jeopardize my future. Have you heard all those new radio adds in the last few years about male medical clinics and low testosterone doctors? What I'll be getting is the exact same thing those people offer. If it were dangerous why would there be so many doctors and clinics out the prescribing this stuff?” “I guess that's true Dad. But you clearly don't need any testosterone, you look like a walking testosterone factory!” He smirked, “Well that may be true son, but why should all the weak beta males out there get this stuff and not the alpha men who will actually put this stuff to good use?” I was surprised that my Dad even knew the term “beta male.” He sounded like a body imaged obsessed bro! “Well, please be careful. After losing Mom I couldn't handle it if anything happened to you to.” Dad wrapped up in his bulging heavy arms and pulled me to his chest, leaned back and lifted me off the ground. It was weird, my now bigger dad made me feel like I was 10 years old again, him giving me one of those dad-hugs that makes you feel safe and secure when you are a young kid. “I love you to death son and I promise I will be careful. This is something I really, really want so I want you to fine with it.” I sighed. “Dad, after all you've been through, you deserve it!” At this, with my feet still hanging a couple inches above the ground still wrapped up in his huge arms. Dad smiled widely and squeezed even harder. “OOOHF! Easy there big guy. You're going to squash me!” Dad set me down and let out a big guffaw. “HAHA, well son you better start lifting again 'cuz those hugs are going to get a lot tighter!” I had no reason to believe that would not be true. The next day I headed to college to finish my freshman year, wondering what Dad would look like when I came back for summer. NEXT CHAPTER: BACK FOR SUMMER