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  1. 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
  2. Chapter 3: The competition It was a packed auditorium for the Leeward Islands classic bodybuilding competition. Fans were eagerly awaiting the Men’s heavyweight class to take the stage. Among the close to 500 spectators sat my girlfriend Katie. She giddily looked from side to side taking in the faces of all the people seated around her, sure that their minds were about to be all blown. I was the most muscular human any of them had ever seen, and I would soon step onto the stage. Katie had dropped me off backstage only 40 minutes prior, mere minutes before the judges were due to finish the weigh-ins. We had wanted to make my presence a secret until the last minute, and so we timed our arrival to be as late as possible. I was ushered to the scale and told to strip down to only my posing suit. I could already feel a dozen sets of eyes looking at me, other heavyweight guys in my class, some of the figure women who’d just come off stage, and some judges. They saw me walk in wearing my loose fitting sweat suit and likely thought I was some strong man competitor, wanting to make a go of bodybuilding. Some fat, overfed and out of shape guy who didn’t belong here. After all, it looked like I must have weighed 400 pounds! Keen to prove them all wrong, I pulled off my sweatshirt. I think one of the figure girls and at least 2 of my fellow heavyweight competitors gasped. I stepped onto the scale, and my weight was recorded: 408 pounds. I’d put on a few more pounds of muscle just since I’d gotten to the Island. When my class was announced, I was at the back of the line walking on stage. Finally after the other 8 competitors had strode under the lights, I made my appearance from behind the curtain. The buzz in the auditorium rose to a bit of a roar and people began to stand up and jockey around to get a better view of me. At least a couple hundred people ignored the ban on cell phone photography and started to snap furious pictures and videos of me. I honestly felt like my muscles could sense all the attention and they literally seemed like they were swelling right then and there as I was walking. That made me strut just a little bit prouder until I took my place at Stage right. At 6’4” tall I already stood above the rest of the guys in my field, and I must have outweighed the next heaviest competitor by 150 pounds. This was an amateur competition after all. All the other guys stepped back a few steps to give me a spot at the centre of the stage right under all the bright lights. The judges started to call the mandatory poses: “Front double biceps.” I bring my colossal arms up to the side, then flex them intensely. Mounds of muscle form a perfect bicep peak. My arms are bigger than the next biggest guys quads. “Side Chest.” From the side, my Pecs jut out from my body by 6 inches, and I simultaneously flex my glutes so the side of my ass in also on display. “Back lat spread.” Turning my back to the crowd, my flexed back is so developed that the different muscle groups look like they were chiselled out of granite. My tiny posing suit can barely contain my enormous tight glutes, and even my hamstrings and calf muscles are bulging at this point. The judges narrowed the field down to 3 of us, and we performed some more off the cuff poses for the crowd. The audience really roared when I gave a “most muscular” for them. And after what must have been the shortest deliberation in the history of bodybuilding, I was announced the winner. Second place wasn’t even close. After the post competition fervor died down, and I’d finished giving interviews and getting my photo taken by the various media outlets who were there, it was time for Katie and I to head back to the resort. We met up backstage where she literally ran and jumped onto me, putting her legs around my waist. She jammed her tongue into my mouth and kissed me like never before. We kissed like this for a while, then Katie whispered into my ear. “You are unlike any other man on this planet. You’ve left mankind in the dust. Humanity is all in awe of you and your muscles. I AM IN AWE OF YOU AND YOUR MUSCLES. You’re a conqueror, so take me, like I’m your prize. I want you to go medieval with me tonight, you’re the king and I’m your subject. I am here to serve you and your muscles.” I wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that! I didn’t even bother going to look for my sweat suit that I’d changed out of when I arrived at the auditorium. Fuck that, I looked so good, I didn’t care about modesty. So still oiled up from the show, and still only wearing my Red spandex posing suit, I took Katie, threw her over my shoulder and out we went from the auditorium. When we got outside, a black Masserati was waiting there. A driver and the manager from our resort were standing there and waived us down. “Excusez-moi monsieur. In honour of your victory, we would like to chauffeur you back to the resort, where your room has been upgraded to the presidential suite. Perhaps tomorrow you can perform a posing session for the rest of our guests on the beach?” “Yes, tomorrow. Certainly” I answered. “But right now, please take us back to the resort.” I gently placed Katie into the car’s back seat. On the short drive we made out furiously. Katie was normally quite an active sexual partner, but I could tell she had a different attitude tonight. She was being submissive, and almost begging for me to touch her, kiss her, run her hand over my abs. I had thought the whole “conqueror/master” thing she had whispered was just a ruse to get me turned on, but maybe she was actually as hypnotized by my muscles as everyone else had seemed to be at the show. When we got to the front of the resort, I got out of the car and threw Katie back over my shoulder. My posing suit was now bulging a little obscenely in the front from my dick which was now at half mast from making out with Katie on the drive. But I didn’t care. And neither did the couple hundred people all watching us arrive from the lobby. The Hotel manager led us to our new suite, and I swiftly closed the door. Our new room was 2200 square feet, with a loft, and huge sitting area. Along one wall, there was a 8’x8’ mirror. “What do you want from me? Ask anything and it’s yours.” Katie pleaded to me as soon as the door was shut. “Show these muscles some love. Starting with my biceps” I stated. Katie jumped up on the bed so she was standing level with my arms and immediately started devouring my bicep with her tongue. She was making out with the indent between the two heads of my bicep, flicking her tongue in and out. Simultaneously her right hand was groping my rock hard glute, and her left was going over and over my abs. I was getting pretty turned on, but there was something else I wanted to try that I figured would drive Katie nuts. I lowered down on to my knees. “Katie, get that dress and those panties off and come here.” I extended my right arm and flexed my bicep. “Now come grind your pussy on this.” Katie took the hint and dropped her dripping wet pussy onto my 26” bicep. Her vagina couldn’t even come close to taking something that massive, but she got her clit involved in the motion and within a minute had an orgasm, leaking pussy juice all over my arm. After her gasping and panting died down a few moments later, Katie got an idea. “Steven, your muscles turn me on so much, but I think we need to let you enjoy them as much as I do. Come over here.” Katie led me to the wall with the 8 foot mirror. “Now, flex as hard as you can.” I performed my front double bicep pose and the sight was my fantasy come true. I was the biggest, bulgiest, most obscenely muscled human to have ever lived. My biceps were enormous, my Pecs were gigantic, my abs were so perfectly chiselled they looked fake, my shoulders and traps were so huge and freaky they almost went up to my ears. Not an inch of my body was undeveloped. I was so turned on by the sight of my muscles that I immediately felt my posing suit being stretched by my growing hard on. Katie got down to her knees, and put her mouth up against my crotch. Sensually putting her mouth against the outside of the tightly stretched lycra of my posing trunks, she began to kiss my erect dick through the fabric. In between kisses, she started talking dirty to me and my muscles. “Steven, look at yourself. You’re huge.” And then back to work on my crotch. She removes her mouth to take a breath “That bicep of yours is perfection. If you were any bigger you wouldn’t fit in that 8x8’ foot mirror.” More kisses on my dick which is now so hard that it is sticking up out of my posing suit. “Everyone who sees your massive size must fantasize about getting to feel up your muscles. I know I would if I didn’t have them all to myself.” She takes my posing suit off, then starts sucking my shaft in earnest. But every few strokes she comes off and continues to talk me up: “Come on baby, come for me. Explode with pleasure at the sight of your perfect muscles. They are a wonder of the world.” I’m close to orgasming now, Katie is giving me the best blow job of my life. And Katie’s comments are the exact thing I want to hear. This is all I’ve ever wanted, to be the biggest, most muscular person on the planet. Not just so other people would stare at me, but so I could stare at MYSELF. Because there is nothing hotter than muscle. And I have the most muscle in the world! With those thoughts, and my reflection in the mirror running through my head I come like I’ve never come before. I shoot an enormous load into Katie’s mouth and she swallows the whole thing like a champ. She then stands up, places her arms around me (well actually her arms won’t wrap all the way around me because my back is too big) and we embrace. The two of us are as happy as we’ve ever been. Thankful that I’ve been blessed with this gift of muscle, and thankful that we’ve found each other. The two of us then go to bed, Katie’s head resting on my massive Pecs. Right before we fall asleep, Katie whispers “and to think, you’re only just getting started…” I fall asleep with a hard on.
  3. This story came about from an idea I had a month ago, after re-reading my favourite story on this forum, which was archived from the old forum. The conversation I had with the author, where he gave me permission to use parts of his story in mine, can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/index.php?app=members&module=messaging&section=view&do=showConversation&topicID=23174&st=0#msg108559 I separated my parts of the story from the author's parts with a line of equal signs: ================== ANDREW'S RECRUITING SUMMER CHAPTER 1: ANDREW MAKES A NEW FRIEND IN WASHINGTON, D.C. Andrew, Carrie and Mike, after spending Canada Day 2005 in Orillia with their parents, headed down to Washington, DC to spend Independence Day at the National Mall. They took Highway 11 south from Orillia to Barrie, where they took Highway 400 down to Toronto. Then they took the 427 to the QEW and headed around the western edge of Lake Ontario to Fort Erie. There, they crossed the border into Buffalo, New York and took US Highway 219 south to Dubois, Pennsylvania. They then turned east onto Interstate 80 and took it to US Hwy 15. They took that highway south to Harrisburg, the State Capitol of Pennsylvania, at the junction of Interstates 81 and 83. They spent the night at a hotel in that city. On July 3rd, Andrew and his friends took a scenic route into Washington DC, taking I-81 down to Hagerstown, Maryland, where they stopped at Borders Bookstore. Then they took I-81 southwest from Hagerstown Maryland into West Virginia, where they stopped at the State Welcome Center and had lunch at the BBQ that was going on. After lunch, they took I-81 further south into Virginia, and turned east onto US Hwy 50 just south of Winchester. They took that highway right into Fairfax, where they stopped at the Fairfax Towne Center and had supper at Five Guys Burgers and Fries. Then they proceeded to their hotel: the Comfort Inn Pentagon City in Arlington, Virginia. Once they had checked in, Andrew, Mike and Carrie jogged to the National Mall in Washington DC, to plot out their route for the morning of July 4th. Late the next morning, on Independence Day, Andrew, Carrie and Mike woke up in their hotel rooms, ready for their 90 minute walk to the National Mall. "I'm glad we scouted out the route last night while jogging," Mike said to Andrew, as they had a late breakfast after showering and getting dressed. "Yeah man," Andrew agreed. "It only took us about half an hour to jog there, but today we'll walk, since there will be so many people heading there." "Good thing we're leaving your truck at the hotel," Carrie said. "The traffic in the National Mall today (July 4th) would be at a standstill for hours. Not to mention that we would never be able to find a parking space." "That's why I picked this hotel Carrie," Andrew reminded her with a smug grin. "It's within walking distance of the National Mall." "Well that was fine for last night Andrew, but maybe we should take the train today," Carrie suggested. "Good idea Carrie," Andrew agreed. "I scouted out a few Metro Stations during our run last night and I believe the Pentagon City Station should serve our needs nicely." http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/dc/DC_Metro_Map_2013.svg/2000px-DC_Metro_Map_2013.svg.png "You're right Andrew," Mike agreed, looking at the Metro Map and the street map side by side. "We can walk northeast on Army-Navy Drive until we get to the Pentagon Row Shopping Center and the Metro Station is right there." https://www.google.ca/maps/place/Comfort+Inn+Pentagon+City/@38.8576678,-77.0593496,14z/data=!4m2!3m1!1s0x89b7b14a8fdfabd5:0x30a73c112191b664 So after breakfast the three teens began walking towards the National Mall, making sure to take a picture of the Air Force Memorial along the way. ==================================================================================================================================================== “Will we have to switch to the yellow line at the Pentagon station to get to L’Enfant Plaza?” I asked as we pulled into the parking garage of the Franconia-Springfield Metro Station. “I don’t think so,” JP answered from the driver’s seat, turning toward Chrissy who was sitting next to him. “Chrissy, didn’t they change the lines around to direct crowds better?” She didn’t answer, staring at JP’s body, totally enraptured by his newest brawn. “Chrissy?” “Huh, what?” she said, suddenly coming out of the daze. “Oh, yeah, you’re right.” He smiled warmly, causing her face to turn a crimson red. It was the Fourth of July and we were headed into DC to see the fireworks on the National Mall. Chrissy had nearly wet her pants at the sight of JP when we arrived to pick her up. At 174 pounds – probably 175 by now – of pure muscle, he was starting to look like a god. His light blue tank-top beautifully accentuated his chiseled shoulders and arms, the color brought out the bright blue in his eyes. He looked…well, perfect. We walked across the bridge into the station, bought our tickets and hopped aboard the train. Immediately, JP began attracting stares from other passengers, their eyes filled with awe. They couldn’t quite believe that a kid his age could be so phenomenally built. They marveled at how his strong, wide neck supported his flawless face, how the straps of the tank-top draped over his gracefully curved traps, how his thick shoulders and arms bulged with muscle upon muscle and were covered with writhing veins, how his lats flared out making the difference between his broad shoulders and tiny waist that much more impressive. And his butt…man, JP’s ass was beyond gorgeous, its perfect bubble shape provocatively filling the seat of his shorts. I, myself, couldn’t keep from watching my boyfriend’s muscular arms jump and flex efficiently while holding onto the pole of the Metro car, his shoulders and lats shifting silently underneath his thin skin as we hurtled smoothly through the suburbs. ===================================================================================================================================================== Within half an hour, Andrew, Carrie and Mike had arrived at the Pentagon City Metro Station. They bought their tickets and stepped aboard the train, which would take them to the L’Enfant Plaza Station just south of the National Mall. ===================================================================================================================================================== "Oh my god," JP said softly, so that only I could hear him. "What is it?" I asked him, following his startled gaze over to the open train doors. My eyes widened as the two biggest guys I had ever seen in my life stepped onto the train. "Those guys are so big they make your brother look like a midget," I whispered in fear. JP glared at me, which reminded me that he was still smaller than his brother. "Sorry JP, I didn't mean it like it sounded." "That's okay Matt," JP assured me, the anger fading from his eyes. A look of fear, which I had rarely seen before, showed up in his eyes. "I never thought I would be scared of any guy now that I'm such a good wrestler, but even I wouldn't be able to take on those muscular brutes," he whispered so that Chrissy couldn't hear. The slightly bigger guy, who had red hair and must have been six and a half feet tall, seemed to hear JP and looked towards him. The huge guy smiled and nodded at JP and after a few seconds of hesitation JP nodded back bravely. "Good job JP," I whispered. "I would've been too scared to make eye contact with such a big guy." JP smiled and I was relieved to see that the fear in his eyes had been replaced with his usual confidence. ===================================================================================================================================================== "Good job Andrew," Carrie commended him. "You scared that guy in the light blue tank top at first, but once you nodded at him, it seemed to put him at ease." "That was my intent Carrie," Andrew informed her. "I know a fellow athlete when I see one and even though he's a lot smaller than I am, I think I want to get to know him better. He looks familiar; once I remember where I've seen him before, I'll introduce myself." "I'm sure you'll get the chance once we're at the National Mall Andrew," Carrie assured him. "I think that everyone on this train is going to get off at the L’Enfant Plaza Station." ====================================================================================================================================================== The three of us heedlessly joked around the whole time and before we knew it, we were coming up the escalator to ground level. As soon as we had picked our spot smack dab in the middle of the National Mall – between the Hirshhorn Museum and the National Archives – JP opened up his backpack and pulled out his beloved Navy Frisbee. “We should get a little game in before it gets too crowded,” he suggested, beginning to pull off his tank-top. Chrissy let out an audible gasp as she saw his bare torso. My heart did a flip, like it always did when he would strip off his shirt. “God, you’re getting to be such a hunk,” she gushed, eyeing his massive chest, “you’re gonna be turning straight guys gay soon.” I burst out laughing, practically choking on my own spit. Chrissy quickly looked over at me. “What?” I couldn’t answer her, I was in such hysterics. JP smiled enchantedly and peered over at me. A chill went down my back. “You should see Matt’s body now, Chrissy,” he commented. “He’s getting bigger, too. Take off your shirt, Matt!” Chrissy looked in my direction with aroused eyes. I bit my lip and acquiesced to my boyfriend’s bidding – how could I not? I not-so-expertly wrestled my T-shirt over my head and threw it on top of JP’s backpack. “Wow!” Chrissy exclaimed. “You look amazing!” She sighed, passing her eyes between JP and me. I could tell that she was in heaven, being sandwiched between the two of us. “I can’t believe I’m hanging out with the two most gorgeous guys in the world,” she said, coming toward me and gently laying her hands on my abs. She raised her head and gazed into my eyes. “Matt,” Chrissy whispered, “I never realized until now how hot you are.” Her hands slid up to my chest, brushing against my nipples. Was she coming on to me? “I’ve been working out a bit,” I admitted, shrugging. Although I was still nothing compared to JP’s body, I had managed some modest gains myself. At 155 pounds – a full 10 pounds heavier than I was during crew season – I was in the best shape of my life. My body fat had dropped to just below 10%, so I knew that all of that new weight was muscle. My chest was developing pecs, my arms were gradually growing thicker and my six-pack – my most prized possession – was getting well-defined. “You gonna play Frisbee with us, Chrissy, or are you just gonna stare at Matt?” JP taunted, smiling brightly. Chrissy blushed and took off her own T-shirt, revealing a white tube-top underneath that clung tightly to her firm breasts. The girl was incredibly hot herself and I know that if I had been straight, I would’ve been completely boned right at that moment. She had an incredibly fit body – curves in all the right places – so you could imagine the looks we got from people, girls and guys. Of course, one look at JP and none of the other guys dared approach Chrissy, assuming that he was her boyfriend and that they would have to go through him first. Little did they know how lucky they might have been if they had tried. ====================================================================================================================================================== Once Andrew and his friends arrived in the middle of the National Mall, between the Hirshhorn Museum and the National Archives, Andrew opened up his backpack and took out his Miami Hurricanes football. "Are you ready for some football Mike?" he asked his teammate. "Yeah Andrew; I'm always ready," Mike assured him. "But do you think it would be a good idea to get a few pictures of the US Capitol Building and the White House before it gets dark in a couple of hours?" "Let's throw the football around for a while first," Andrew decided. "Then we can see those two buildings and get back to our spot on the lawn here by dusk." So for the next hour, Andrew and Mike threw the Miami football back and forth, making sure to take off their t-shirts to show off their massive muscles. As crowds of people began to fill the National Mall in preparation for the fireworks that evening, Andrew and Mike began to draw stares of awe and fear from the people around them. Andrew also noticed the brown haired guy from the train staring at him with a mixture of awe and envy. Andrew grinned at the guy, who bravely nodded back, before he had to dive to catch the Navy Frisbee his smaller friend threw him. ====================================================================================================================================================== For the next couple of hours, we tossed the Frisbee around in fun – no one bothered keeping score. Chrissy and I both admired JP’s athleticism, despite his dense musculature. No matter how far or in what direction I threw the Frisbee, he never failed to catch it, often making spectacular dives to do so. He was just so fast and agile. He was so strong and beautiful. He was a superjock. ===================================================================================================================================================== An hour after they had started throwing the football around, Andrew said to Mike, "I think we've thrown the football around long enough. It's time to go get our pictures of the Capitol Building and the White House before it gets dark. Then we'll get back to our spot here by sunset, about half an hour before the fireworks start." "How will we find our spot once this area is completely filled with people Andrew?" Carrie asked, as Mike put the football in the bag. "We'll look for the guy on our left who's been throwing the Navy Frisbee around with his friend; he's impossible to miss," Andrew informed her. "Especially since he's had his tank-top off for the past hour," Carrie reminded him with a sexy grin. "Careful Carrie; you only have one boyfriend and that's me!" Andrew shouted, flexing his massive biceps. "Whatever you say Andrew," Carrie chuckled as Mike stood up wearing Andrew's backpack. "It looks like we're ready to go." "Yes we are Carrie," Andrew said, looking over to his left and smirking. Carrie followed his gaze and saw the well-muscled guy holding the Navy Frisbee staring at Andrew. Then the guy turned away, embarrassed to be caught staring, and threw the frisbee to his friend. "Has that guy been staring at us for the past hour Andrew?" "Yeah, ever since Mike and I took our shirts off Carrie," Andrew replied, as they started walking towards the Capitol Building. "You've enjoyed shocking him with your huge muscles over the past hour, haven't you Andrew?" Carrie suddenly realized. "Yeah I have Carrie," Andrew replied. "I have been impressed, however, with how quickly he's regained his composure and bravely nodded back at me every time I've nodded at him. Hopefully, by the time we get back to our spot, I'll have remembered where I've seen his picture. Then I can introduce myself to him." "I'm going to take a picture looking back towards our spot on the lawn so that we can find our way back," Mike said. "Good idea Mike," Andrew agreed, as they crossed the street. The three friends turned around to look back towards the Washington Monument. "Make sure you get the guy from the train in the center of the picture. That way, we'll be sure to find our spot when we get back." Mike took the picture and then they continued on their way towards the Capitol Building. Andrew and his two friends continued walking closer to the Capitol Building, and then Andrew suddenly noticed a group of US Army guys up ahead in black t-shirts standing near their trucks. "I'm going to ask them if we can get a picture with them," Andrew decided, quickly putting his t-shirt back on. "I'll signal you two to join me if they say yes." Andrew bravely walked up to the Army guys, all of whom looked glad that they were on the other side of the fence from such a huge muscular guy. It's the same reaction I get from guys at the Reserves, Andrew said to himself with a silent sigh. I really wish people would stop being afraid of how big and strong I am, but I guess that's impossible! The Army guys were glad to have their picture taken with Andrew and his friends, especially after Andrew showed them his Military ID. They even pointed Andrew and his two friends in the direction of the Capitol Reflecting Pool, where other Army guys would be preparing mini-artillery guns for firing later in the evening. Andrew and his friends continued walking and soon saw a good view of the Capitol Building above the treetops: the "CNN view" as some called it. "Good job Mike; you're getting lots of good pictures of our first trip to Washington DC," Andrew commended his big friend. "Thanks Andrew, I get the feeling that we'll always remember this day," Mike said. "Yes we will Mike: because I just remembered where I've seen that guy with the Navy Frisbee before," Andrew said. "Well don't keep it to yourself Andrew!" Carrie admonished him, once she realized he wasn't going to say anything more. "All in good time Carrie; we're approaching those mini-Artillery guns the Army guys told us about," Andrew informed her. Just like the Army guys at the trucks, the guys manning the guns gladly posed for pictures with Andrew and his friends. After the pictures were taken, Andrew made sure to thank the soldiers for their service. The soldiers promptly thanked Andrew for his support, making Andrew feel very humbled and proud that he served his country like they did theirs. Then Andrew and his friends moved on, making their way around the northern edge of the Capitol Building until they reached the large plaza on the east side. "I have an idea for your next profile picture on MySpace Andrew," Mike said suddenly. "What is it Mike?" Andrew asked, as Carrie continued taking pictures. "Stand under the dome and raise your arms as if you're holding it up," Mike suggested. "We'll call it 'Capitol Muscle' or something." "I think 'Capitol Dome Military Press' has a better ring to it," Andrew said, positioning himself properly for the picture. He grinned as Mike took the picture and then asked, "There now Mike: are you happy now?" "Yes I am Andrew; let's head to the White House now," Mike suggested. "Before we go, take a picture towards the Washington Monument in the distance," Carrie suggested. "It's starting to get dark and it will make a great picture." Mike took the picture and then they made their way down Pennsylvania Avenue to the White House. Once they got there, they found lots of people taking pictures and after a couple of blurry attempts, they decided to cross the street so that they could get a better close-up view. "Good job Carrie; I think you're a better photographer than Mike," Andrew said proudly. "That's because I'm the Yearbook Photographer Andrew," Carrie reminded him with a smug grin as Mike frowned. "Are we finished taking pictures now?" Mike asked impatiently. "Can we get back to the lawn before the crowds leave us no place to sit to watch the fireworks?" "Good point Mike; it's almost sunset," Andrew realized. "And it looks like it's going to rain," he added, as the first drops began to fall. "You'd better use the umbrella in the backpack Carrie," Andrew suggested. "You don't want to get all wet." "What about you and Mike Andrew?" Carrie asked, as she took the fold-up umbrella out of the backpack. "Mike and I will drink in the water of life and it will cleanse us from our exertions over the last two hours," Andrew replied cryptically. "You mean the rain will wash off the sweat you worked up from playing football in the hot sun," Carrie laughed, amused at Andrew's attempt to sound wise and mysterious. "Those were pretty good metaphors you just used Andrew." "Thanks Carrie; sometimes I try to sound wise so that people don't forget that I have brains and not just brawn," Andrew informed her. "I don't think anyone who has seen you today with your shirt off will forget that you have brawn," Carrie assured him, making the understatement of the year. Andrew grinned at her in agreement as they made their way back to their spot near the Hirshhorn Museum, by way of the Washington Monument. ====================================================================================================================================================== Soon after JP and I finished throwing his Navy Frisbee around, the skies began to cloud up and it started to pour. We didn’t bother running for cover, instead letting the warm rain soak our skin, though Chrissy quickly realized she would have a problem. “Shit,” she cried, “I’m wearing a white shirt.” JP and I laughed as I loaned her my dark blue shirt so she could cover up her tits. She gave me a peck on the cheek and said, “Thanks, Matty.” I blushed, nervously looking over at my boyfriend who was sniggering. The sudden downpour didn’t last too long, however, and the sun quickly came out again just before it dipped behind the Washington skyline. JP and I decided to run to a nearby concession stand and get something to eat. As we stood in line, my boyfriend leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I think Chrissy’s starting to have a crush on you now,” he said. I looked at him like he was crazy. “Seriously,” he continued. “She knows I’m not interested in her anymore, so she’s moving on.” JP was always quick at picking these things up – or at least quicker than I. “But, I’m already taken,” I rebutted, looking fondly into his angelic eyes. “What am I going to do?” He grinned. “Welcome to my world,” he said, patting me firmly on the back. ======================================================================================================================================================= Andrew, Carrie and Mike got back to their spot on the lawn and marvelled at the view of the National Mall at dusk. "We should make this an annual event Carrie," Andrew informed his girlfriend. He looked towards the Washington Monument with the dusky sky behind it and added, "It's very relaxing here in DC, even on July 4th." "I agree Andrew," Carrie said, snuggling up against the massive chest of her boyfriend. "Plenty of eye candy too." "What do you mean?" Andrew asked her. "Did you see the guy to our left making spectacular dives to catch the Navy Frisbee his friend threw him a couple of hours ago?" "Yeah I did, before we got our pictures of the Capitol Building and the White House, " Andrew replied, smiling at the memory. "He's really athletic and muscular, and he's the same guy we saw on the train. I'm trying to figure out how to introduce myself to him, but I can't think of a good way to do it." He looked over to their left and realized something. "I don't see him now, or his brother, just his girlfriend lone on the blanket to our left." Then his eyes narrowed as he saw something that demanded his immediate attention. He stood up with his fists clenched and glared over to his left. "What is it Andrew?" Carrie asked him, standing up beside him. "Trouble," Andrew replied through gritted teeth. "Stay here Carrie; we'll be right back. Come on Mike." Carrie knew better than to argue with that tone of voice and she stayed behind as Andrew and Mike headed over to stop the troubling scene about to unfold. But as they soon found out, their intervention would prove unnecessary. ====================================================================================================================================================== It was almost dark by the time we headed back to our spot on the lawn. As we approached, JP grabbed my elbow, stopping me in my tracks. I looked at him puzzled, but he was staring grimly in Chrissy’s direction. She was lying on the blanket as two brawny college-aged jocks stalked toward her unseen, eyeing her schemingly. They were about to hit on her…and it was obvious that these guys were the type that would not take no for an answer. The bigger one must have outweighed me by at least 60 or 70 pounds – though a lot of it probably was fat – and the smaller one wasn’t much smaller. Their broad chests filled their wife-beaters to a near-ripping state, their arms thick with bulk. Cautiously, we snuck closer to within earshot. “Hey, baby,” the larger of the two nagged, startling Chrissy. “You alone tonight?” She craned her head up indignantly. “No,” she snapped firmly but calmly, “I’m with two guys who could knock you both out without a fight.” I gulped. Please tell me she’s bluffing, I thought. This only seemed to amuse them. “Really?” the other one retorted. “Well, I don’t see them around right now. You need someone to cuddle with?” “Don’t you even think about it!” I heard a deep voice bellow from behind me. It was JP, an intense fire bolting from his eyes, his muscles twitching with fury. The remaining twilight reflected off his body and buzzed head so magnificently, he was downright intimidating. The smaller guy’s mouth dropped open slightly when he sighted the kid, but the other guy remained unfazed. “This pretty boy is your boyfriend,” he smirked, peering at him assertively. “No,” JP returned without missing a beat, “but I am your worst nightmare.” It was the way he said those words that sent a chill down my spine. The older jock scoffed. “You wanna fight me? Us two against you two?” My heart was pounding and my knees were wobbling. What was JP doing? He couldn’t possibly be enticing the guys to fight us. Though I knew my boyfriend could take this guy, I was certain I’d be dead against the other. I froze. Arrogantly, the bigger dude sauntered up to JP who stood his ground, not moving a muscle. The two jocks were standing eyeball to eyeball, their beefy chests almost touching each other. The jerk slowly raised his fist, an egotistical sneer spreading across his face. That’s when JP struck. In the blink of an eye, JP pounced and expertly twisted his opponent’s arm behind his back, making him yelp in pain. Before he even had a chance to respond, the jerk’s head was forced back over his shoulder by JP’s other arm so that he looked him straight through the eyes. The guy had no choice but to look back as JP shot him his debilitating look of death. “You sure you wanna mess with me?” my boyfriend hissed. His challenger merely gagged in reply, JP’s powerful forearm practically crushing his windpipe. He realized he didn’t have a prayer with the champion wrestler who could, with one quick snap of his neck, take away his life. JP gave him one more squeeze and, as quickly as he had put his opponent in the position, he threw him out of it, leaving him coughing and sputtering on the ground. I stood there stunned. Other than during a wrestling match, never before had I seen him attack someone. It simply wasn’t a contest. The other guy may have weighed more, but he couldn’t match JP’s amazing strength and quickness. His friend helped him off the ground and the two hurried away, afraid to even look at the younger kid again. Immediately, Chrissy ran up and threw her arms around JP. “Oh my God, JP,” she exclaimed, her fingers barely able to fully grasp his huge shoulders, “that was so brave of you! Thanks!” Then, she gave him a big kiss on the cheek. JP merely shrugged and blushed a deep red. “Wait ‘till my brother hears about this.” JP looked back at her, smiling, happy to change the subject. “Nick’s coming to the wrestling camp this summer, right?” Chrissy nodded. “Are you kidding?” she answered. Her little brother Nick was 12 years old and was going to be in seventh grade the next school year. And like many boys in our area, he idolized JP. According to Chrissy, her brother had clipped out every newspaper article about his hero during wrestling season and had been bugging her to take him to a match. As soon as he heard that JP, along with the help of his coaches, was organizing a one-week summer wrestling camp for middle school kids, he instantly jumped at the chance and persuaded his parents to sign him up. Now, he was counting down the days until it started. “He wants to be just like you when he grows up,” Chrissy gushed. “Well, the great JP Maloney makes one helluva role model,” I added, patting my boyfriend on his wide back. "He certainly does," a very deep voice agreed from their right. JP and I looked over to where the voice came from and our jaws dropped. ======================================================================================================================================================= Andrew smirked slightly at the look of shock on both guys' faces. Then the bigger guy in the light blue tank top narrowed his eyes at Andrew, and asked him, "You want to try to mess with me too?" "No man," Andrew assured him, slightly intimidated by the guy's intensity, even though he outweighed him by about 100 pounds. "I just wanted to congratulate you on how well you took care of those two jerks. If someone tried anything like that with my girlfriend, I would have reacted the same way. I was about to intervene to help your girlfriend out but you got there first." "He's right JP," the girl said. "He was coming over to help me before you showed up; that's why I felt brave enough to tell those two jerks to go away." "Thanks man," JP said gratefully, calming down now that he knew the huge red-haired guy wasn't going to cause any trouble. "It's good to know that there are still some good guys left, instead of just jerks." He walked over to Andrew and held out his hand. "I'm JP Maloney of Central High School." "I thought you looked familiar," Andrew said, shaking JP's hand. "I've seen your picture in the Washington papers. I'm Andrew Pearson from Orillia District High School." "Andrew Pearson: the YouTube Football Star?" JP asked him with raised eyebrows. "You've heard of me?" Andrew asked him in surprise. "Yeah man; you're famous, at least online," JP informed him. "You must be really smart, using a new video-sharing website to get the attention of the NCAA Recruiters that way." "Yeah man," Andrew agreed, unconsciously mimicking his new friend's speech patterns. "But to prove it, I'd better remember to introduce my friends to you. The big guy with brown hair beside me is Mike and the girl beside him is my girlfriend Carrie." "Pleased to meet you Carrie," JP said, shaking her hand gently. He turned to Mike and shook his hand firmly. "What's up man?" "My height and weight relative to yours," Mike replied, realizing that he outweighed JP by more than 100 pounds of solid muscle. "You're right about that man," JP agreed. "But I'll get big like you one day." "I'm sure you will JP," his friend agreed. He stepped forward with his hand outstretched. "I'm Matt Anderson: JP's best friend." And more than that, JP thought, as Mike and Andrew shook Matt's hand. Then Carrie and Chrissy shook hands and introduced themselves. "Since all introductions have been made, would you and your friends like to watch the fireworks with us?" JP asked Andrew. "It's the least I can do since you were ready to help Chrissy before I got there." "Thanks man; we'd love to," Andrew replied, after Mike and Carrie nodded in agreement. "Mike: go bring our blanket and bag over here." "Yes sir!" Mike shouted jokingly, saluting Andrew as he ran to their spot on the lawn to the right of JP's group. "Mike did that salute pretty well; is he in the military?" JP asked Andrew. "No, but his older brother is and so am I," Andrew replied quietly. "Thank you for your service Andrew," JP said gratefully, clapping Andrew on the shoulder. "Thank you for your support JP," Andrew said gratefully. "You're welcome man," JP said. "Now, since you're military, I bet you can guess what my initials stand for." "I can guess John Paul, but that's it," Andrew informed him. "Were you named after someone famous?" "Yes: John Paul Jones: the U.S. Naval Hero," JP replied proudly. "And you are a hero as well man," Andrew assured him proudly. "What you did to that guy who was bugging Chrissy proved that conclusively." "Thanks man," JP said gratefully. His face turned angry as he added, "But it wasn't just heroics that made me do that." "What do you mean man?" Andrew asked him quietly, leading JP away from their friends. "Or would you prefer I don't ask?" "No, it's okay Andrew; even though we just met, I know I can trust you to keep this quiet," JP assured him. He waited for Andrew's nod of agreement before he continued. "I saw my older brother's face in my mind as I had my arm around the throat of that guy." "I see; you have some transference issues with a former mentor who turned against you," Andrew said with a sudden look of understanding. "How did you figure that out?" JP asked in astonishment; amazed that Andrew could read his mind so exactly. "My former best friend Steve used to be my mentor as I started working out," Andrew revealed. "But when I exceeded him in size and strength, his jealously revealed itself as he started bashing my proteges: like Mike there." "I can't imagine why anyone would bash someone as big as Mike," JP said with a faint look of fear on his face. "He's as big as you and you must be at least 6 foot 6 and 300 pounds of solid muscle!" "6 foot 7 and 305 pounds actually," Andrew said. "Mike and I are the exact same height and weight; pretty amazing considering he was just 5 feet tall and 80 pounds when I started training him in the fall of 1998." He noticed JP's look of astonishment and decided to switch topics. "But enough about me: let's throw my Miami football around for a few minutes and you can tell me all about your older brother." "Good idea man," JP agreed, as Andrew signalled Mike to throw him the football. He smiled as Mike threw the ball with a perfect spiral and Andrew caught it effortlessly with one hand. "You and Mike make a good team Andrew." "I should hope so; we got our team to the Provincial Championship last season," Andrew remembered. "Unfortunately our team lost, but this year we'll win!" "I'm sure you will Andrew," JP agreed, smiling at his new friend with pride in his eyes. "Have you found that your success has cost you personally like mine has?" "Yeah man," Andrew replied sadly, as he turned away to look towards the Washington Monument. "My best friend of five years turned against me after I beat up the class bully, and we've barely spoken since. It sucked man, and it still hurts almost seven years later." "I know exactly how you feel man," JP said, stepping forward to lay a hand on Andrew's massive shoulder. He was amazed that he and Andrew had encountered such similar problems as they had achieved great athletic success. "My older brother Ryan turned against me once I got close to his size and strength, which is very ironic since he was the one who taught me how to work out in the first place." "That's too bad man," Andrew said, turning around and patting JP's shoulder gently. He looked back at their group and noticed Matt smiling proudly. "But it looks like you've found a new older brother in your best friend Matt." "Yeah, Matt's been great to me over the last couple of years," JP agreed. "He's really filled the void in my life that Ryan created when he walked away." He left out the part about Matt being his boyfriend; not sure that Andrew would understand. "Anyway, enough talk Andrew; time for some football." "Good idea man," Andrew agreed, lifting up his football. "Go long man; let's see how much you've learned." More than you know man, JP thought smugly, remembering fondly how Ryan had played football with him when he was younger. He jogged further down the lawn; closer to the Capitol Building. He stopped in a part of the lawn clear of people but then noticed everyone around him staring at his ripped muscles in awe. JP smirked and thought, Just wait until you see the size of the guy who throws me the football! JP held up his hands to let Andrew know that he was ready to catch the football, but then he had to dive back to catch it because Andrew threw it too far. Man, he's scary strong; I wouldn't want to get on his bad side! JP thought in astonishment and a little fear. I'm just glad that he wasn't the one bugging Chrissy; I wouldn't have been able to scare him away! "Wow, you're really strong Andrew!" JP shouted to his new friend. "What are your stats anyway?" "Six foot seven, 305 lbs, 25 inch biceps and a one-rep max bench of 880 pounds," Andrew replied smugly, crossing his huge arms over his massive chest. Everyone around him, friends and strangers alike, turned to stare at him in awe. Andrew grinned and waved at his new fans; then he flexed his massive biceps and laughed. "Yeah, it's all true everyone, as you can see on MySpace. Just look up Andrew the Tank and you'll find all my pictures!" JP's jaw had dropped along with all the onlookers, but he managed to close his mouth as Andrew turned back to look at him with a cocky smirk. "Are you going to hold that football until it gets completely dark JP?" Andrew teased him. JP shook his head with a sheepish grin and tossed the football back to Andrew in a perfect spiral. "Those stats are really impressive man," he congratulated his big friend, grinning as Andrew caught his catch with just one hand. "You must be a god on the football field." "Yeah I am man," Andrew agreed with a smug grin. "Want to see me catch my own thrown football?" "Yeah man and I'll catch it all on video to show my friends later," JP said, getting out his digital camera. He looked at the screen, after turning it on, and added, "Just stay in the light of the street lamps Andrew and I'll be able to catch everything." "Hey, who do you think you are, giving me orders Little Man?" Andrew sneered with an arrogant grin. He chuckled at JP's sudden look of fear and added, "I was just kidding man; don't get scared." "I wasn't scared Andrew," JP bluffed, hoping that no one besides Andrew had seen the look of fear on his face. "I just thought you were serious, that's all." "I understand," Andrew assured him, meaning that he knew how important maintaining the image of a fearless jock was when one was big and strong. "Are you ready JP?" "I'm ready Andrew," JP replied, turning the knob to video and pressing the record button. "Show me what you've got Big Brother," he blurted out without thinking, wishing Andrew was Ryan. "Okay Little Brother; get ready to be amazed!" Andrew shouted, realizing that he regarded JP as a protege just like he did Mike. Andrew coked his arm back and threw his football high above the treetops. He then ran down the mall towards the Capitol Building and turned to see his football curving down over the treetops. Andrew adjusted his course laterally to intercept it and caught it neatly in his arms. "Yeah!" Andrew shouted in excitement, spiking the ball and flexing his massive biceps. "Now that's how it's done!" Everyone around Andrew who had witnessed his amazing feat clapped and cheered for him, causing Andrew's face to turn red with embarrassment. JP grinned as he approached the crowd gathering around his new 'big brother', pleased that Andrew was acting humble instead of cocky. Wait until I show this video to my friends, JP thought to himself. If Andrew agrees, I may even post it on that new video-sharing site called YouTube! Then his great football skills could reach even more college recruiters! As JP reached the edges of the crowd, his admiration for Andrew grew as he saw his big friend patiently signing autographs, posing for pictures and giving some smaller guys workout tips. If only Ryan was like that instead of being a cocky jerk! JP thought angrily. Then he would be worthy of the Big Brother title like Andrew is! Andrew looked up from signing autographs and noticed JP suddenly looking very sad. He whistled to catch JP's attention and when JP looked up, he said, "Join me in the center of the crowd man." Everyone turned to see who Andrew was motioning at, and their jaws dropped as they saw JP's incredible musculature. JP suddenly became very embarrassed as everyone started asking him for pictures, autographs and workout tips. "Did you tell everyone about my success last year in wrestling?" JP asked Andrew once the crowd of fans had finally dispersed. "I didn't have to man; once I mentioned your name, everyone knew who you were already," Andrew replied. He looked down at JP with a brotherly grin as he added, "You're famous man." "Well, perhaps in this town anyway," JP muttered, suddenly embarrassed. "But you're famous all over this continent man; thanks to your YouTube videos! With your permission, I'd like to post that video of you catching your own thrown football for the US college football coaches to see. Then you'll be recruited even more than you have been! As a Canadian, you're going to need that kind of cutting-edge digital exposure to be noticed enough by the NCAA to be offered a full football scholarship!" "Ok JP, you've made your point, with lots of big words no less," Andrew teased him. As they began walking back to their friends in the center of the National Mall, he asked, "How high is your IQ man?" "Just shy of genius level, so about 150," JP admitted. "Mine's the same as yours man," Andrew realized. "Maybe that's why we're able to carry on an intelligent conversation instead of just carrying a football." "But right now, you're carrying a football Andrew, so what does that say about your intelligence?" JP teased him. "It says that I'm a smart jock, not a dumb one, because I'm actually able to speak entire sentences JP," Andrew reminded him with a smirk. "But if you really want me to act like a dumb jock, I'm sure I could learn." "That's not necessary Andrew; there's already one dumb jock in my life; I don't need another," JP said bitterly, clenching his fists as he thought about what a big jerk Ryan had turned into over the past couple of years. "I'm not going to turn out like my brother; I'm aiming higher in life than just college sports." "Well you have good aim so far JP," Andrew commended him as they made their way down the path shaded by the tall trees. As they skirted their way around the Washington Monument fence, he added, "You'd be great at football man, but from what I saw earlier, wrestling is your first love." Matt is my first love, JP thought, smiling at the thought of the wonderful summer he was going to have with his boyfriend. "Wrestling was my first love Andrew, but once I found Matt, I found someone I could really love," JP said without thinking. "Yeah, I understand what it's like to love someone like a brother," Andrew said, completely missing JP's slip. "I can see that you look at Matt as a substitute for your brother Ryan." "As I do with you now Andrew, " JP blurted out, feeling like he'd known Andrew for years. Andrew's jaw dropped in astonishment and JP hurriedly explained: "It's been really hard not having a mentor for the past couple of years man; I guess I just admire you a lot for not acting like a cocky jerk just because you're great at football." "No problem JP," Andrew assured him, once he realized what JP was trying to say. "I don't mind being your 'Honorary Big Brother' as you prepare for your college career. I'm only a phone call or email away and my hometown of Orillia is only a day's drive from here." "Thanks for being my 'Honorary Big Brother' Andrew," JP said gratefully. "I'm hoping to get a wrestling scholarship to Ohio State so that I can stay with Matt. Of course, since he's one year older than me, like you are, this is the last year we'll have together." "I know what that's like man; my friend Mark Stevenson gets a full football scholarship to Miami this fall," Andrew said. "I'll really miss him man, just as I'm sure you'll miss Matt when he goes to college in a year." He noticed what looked like a hint of tears in JP's eyes and suddenly realized that Matt and JP were more than just brothers to each other. But instead of sharing his sudden insight with his new friend, Andrew asked, "Has Ohio State recruited you yet JP?" "No man, but since I'm just going into my Junior Year, it won't be long until they do," JP predicted with a cocky smirk. "Have you visited the campus yet?" Andrew asked. "No man; why do you ask?" JP asked curiously. "I'm going to Ohio State in a few days for a recruiting visit," Andrew replied. "I know we just met, and we should ask your parents first, but would you and Matt like to come with me?" JP's jaw dropped in astonishment, amazed that Andrew (a stranger one hour ago) was proposing a road trip. But then he saw Andrew's serious look and realized that he had found a new mentor to replace his big brother Ryan. Andrew is the big brother I wish Ryan still was, JP realized. I see now that guys don't have to be related to be brothers. "That would be great Andrew," JP said, once he could speak again. He stepped closer to his new friend and motioned him to bend down. Andrew did so and JP whispered in his ear, "You're really filling the void that Ryan left when he walked away from me Andrew. I never told Matt this, but it sucked having to work out by myself without a mentor around. And even though he has been emotionally absent for the past year, this fall Ryan will be physically absent as well, since he's going off to Virginia Tech. So I have no one left to look up to. But now I can look up to you as a big brother, just like I once did with Ryan." "I'm only an email or phone call away JP," Andrew reminded him, pulling out his flip phone so that he could give JP his cell number. "And since I'm physically present, not absent, you can look up to me right now." JP chuckled as Andrew straightened up to his full height and crossed his huge arms over his massive chest. Andrew grinned at him smugly and added, "I love mentoring the little guys like-" "Little?!" JP interrupted, his cockiness suddenly returning. He flexed his 16 inch bicep and sneered, "Does this look little to you Andrew?" "Yes it does, compared to mine JP," Andrew informed him sternly, flexing his massive 25 inch bicep. JP's cocky smirk vanished quickly and Andrew nodded in satisfaction. "Remember JP, you may be the big man at your school, but then there's college and the real world to consider." JP nodded in sudden understanding, realizing that his new friend Andrew was only one of many men out there who were bigger and stronger than he was. "I'm going to tell you how my dad's cockiness prematurely ended his NFL career JP; then you'll understand why you should be more modest and humble in public." JP nodded soberly and Andrew began telling him the story about how his dad had given in to all the hype and started drinking and driving fast during his NFL career. That carefree attitude led to the car accident that shattered Chad's kneecap, tore his ACL and ended his NFL days forever. Then Chad had to crawl back to Orillia and start from the bottom of his boss's company as a Management Intern. JP's eyes widened in understanding as Andrew told him the story and he realized that his big brother could be headed for a rude awakening as well. But I'll be the one that causes it, JP thought to himself. His fists clenched as he remembered his first reason for working out: to beat up his brother one day. JP had no idea how prophetic that goal would become and how it would change both his and Ryan's lives forever. It was just about completely dark by the time Andrew and JP got back to their friends sitting on the lawn, where they had an unobstructed view of the Washington Monument. It's about time you got back here Andrew; Mike had to fill in for you," Carrie teased him. "I hope not Carrie; you only have one boyfriend and that's me," Andrew growled, glaring at Mike. JP felt as nervous as Mike looked and Carrie had to assure Andrew that she and Mike were just friends. Matt and Chrissy looked really nervous too, and JP suddenly realized that they had looked just like that as he had held that guy in a wrestling hold barely half an hour earlier. JP scratched the back of his shaved head, embarrassed that he had allowed his bad feelings about Ryan to make him lash out like that. I've got to let Matt know later why I did that, JP realized. I hope he understands like Andrew did. He breathed a sigh of relief along with everyone else when Andrew's angry look faded into a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that guys," Andrew apologized. "I guess I was just afraid that some guys would try to cause trouble with you like they did with Chrissy earlier." "What JP did to those guys is nothing compared to what you could do Andrew," Carrie reminded him. "You could have snapped their necks like twigs!" "You'd better tell everyone your idea Andrew, before the fireworks start," JP said suddenly, anxious to change the subject. "Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me man," Andrew said gratefully, slapping his new friend on the shoulder. JP concealed a wince as Andrew quickly told Carrie and Mike his idea about Matt and JP coming along on their Ohio State Recruiting Visit. "What do you think Carrie?" "It sounds great, especially since Mike and I got a chance to know Matt and Chrissy while you and JP were playing football," Carrie replied. "Good, then it's all settled except for the timing," Andrew realized. He turned to JP and said, "We're staying in the Washington area for another day before leaving on the 6th. Is that good for you and Matt?" "Yes Andrew; that should give you guys enough time to meet my parents and Matt's mom to get their permission," JP replied. Andrew looked embarrassed that he hadn't thought of that. "Don't feel bad that you forgot about that step Andrew; I think my dad will approve of you. He's really upset that Ryan took off this summer on a road trip instead of being around to mentor me; he'll be glad I've found a new mentor." "Anything I can do to help man," Andrew said quietly, feeling sobered by the fact that JP held him in such high esteem. But then he realized that JP would never have told him so much while they were alone if he didn't trust him implicitly. "I'll be there for you as much as I can JP, even when I'm away at college. As I've told you twice before now, I'm only a phone call or email away." JP grinned at his big friend, but he also felt sad that it wasn't Ryan saying those things. Where did I go wrong with Ryan? JP asked himself. Have I lost my brother forever? He should be here, sharing one last Independence Day at home with me instead of Andrew having to fill his role as my big brother! JP was distracted from his sad thoughts by the first fireworks going off and he let his cares drift away as he enjoyed the view with his friends and new 'Big Brother.' "The second one looked just like a side profile of Abraham Lincoln!" Carrie shouted in astonishment. "Do you think it was deliberately launched that way?" "I don't know Carrie, but if Mike's been taking pictures, we can find out later," Andrew replied, looking over at his big friend. Mike held up the digital camera to let Andrew know that he wasn't missing anything. "For now Carrie, let's be quiet and enjoy the show." Carrie nodded in agreement and leaned back into Andrew's massive chest. She smiled as Andrew's muscular arms folded around her gently and she realized that there was nowhere she's rather be than in the arms of her boyfriend. ===================================================================================================================================================== The rest of that night was amazing. I couldn’t stop myself from looking over at JP as the fireworks illuminated his flawless face, the different colors reflecting in his dazzling eyes. Every now and then, he would glance over at me and smile. A tear rolled down my cheek. I was so overwhelmed by his beauty and his love for me. How the hell did I get so lucky? Chrissy’s head was leaning on my lap, but I found myself wishing it were JP’s instead. I wanted him near me every minute of the day. ====================================================================================================================================================== Once the fireworks were over around 10 pm, the crowds began clearing out of the National Mall. "I'm not ready to go home yet; what about you guys?" JP asked his new friends. "I'd like to see the Lincoln Memorial," Andrew replied. When his friends nodded in agreement, he asked JP, "Would you and your friends like to join us?" "We'd be glad to Andrew," JP replied, as Matt and Chrissy nodded in agreement. "If you look beyond the Washington Monument, you can see the Lincoln Memorial from here." Andrew and his friends looked to the west and saw that JP was right. Mike took a picture as everyone admired the view. "There, now that we've seen the Lincoln Memorial, we can go home," Matt said impatiently, eager to be alone with JP. "I think Andrew meant to see it up close, as well as inside Matt," JP reminded his boyfriend with a frown. Andrew nodded in agreement and JP smirked at his boyfriend. "See, I told you Matt!" "Okay JP, I give up: we'll see Lincoln up close," Matt sighed. "Then can we go home?" "Yeah we can Matt," JP agreed, realizing that Matt was eager to be alone with him. He led his friends across the street to the path that led to the western end of the National Mall. Everyone admired the view as they walked down the path on the north side of the Tidal Basin. Andrew made sure to take a picture of the Korean War Memorial, since his deceased grandfather had fought in that war as well as World War II. The six friends finally reached the Lincoln Memorial and saw lots of people climbing the stairs, even though it was after 10:30 pm. "Quite a crowd JP," Andrew commented. "I never expected to see so many people at this monument at this time of night." "Abraham Lincoln was arguably the most famous president in our nation's history Andrew," JP reminded his big friend. "And this memorial has been the sight of many famous events since it was constructed. That's why it draws such big crowds at all times: about six million people per year." "I understand JP," Andrew said soberly, realizing the great pride JP felt for his country. "Can we go inside now?" "Sure Andrew," JP agreed, feeling sheepish that he had soured the good mood they had been enjoying most of the evening. "Follow me man; I'll get us through the crowds." Andrew and his friends followed JP up the stairs into the Lincoln Memorial and made their way through the crowds until they could get a good shot of Abraham Lincoln sitting on his chair. "That was a very good picture Mike; especially since you caught the words about Lincoln's memory being enshrined forever," Andrew commended his friend. "Thanks Andrew; I thought you'd appreciate that, considering the events of seven months ago," Mike replied. Andrew glared at Mike at first, remembering that his grandfather had died a year before a few weeks before Christmas, but then he realized that Mike had been trying in his own way to honour Bert Pearson's memory. "Thanks man; I do appreciate it," Andrew assured him, his glare fading into a sad smile as he put a gentle hand on Mike's shoulder. JP asked him what was wrong as they headed back towards the Washington Monument and Andrew told him about his war veteran grandfather: who had served in World War II and Korea during his 20 years of service in the Canadian Forces. After Andrew finished the story, JP realized that he shared a deeper kinship with his new friend than he had first thought: considering that both their grandfathers had served in the military. The group of six friends had reached the Washington Monument by then, and they got a good close-up shot. "Well, it's been great getting to know you JP, but we should get back to our hotel now," Andrew said, checking his watch. "It's almost 11:30." "If you came with us on the Metro, we can drop you off at the Pentagon City Station and then you'll have a much shorter walk back to your hotel," JP offered. "I have an idea of what we can do tomorrow." Andrew looked over at Carrie and Mike, who nodded in agreement. He looked back at JP and said, "Good idea man; thanks for thinking of that." "I'm a little surprised that you didn't Andrew," JP teased him, as they began walking to the L'Enfant Plaza Metro Station. "It's not because I'm not smart like you JP; it's because I'm from out of town," Andrew reminded him with a mock glare. When he saw JP trying not to look scared, Andrew laughed and assured him, "I'm just kidding man; we never would have had such a great Fourth of July if we hadn't met you and your friends!" Mike and Carrie grinned and nodded in agreement and JP breathed a sigh of relief. When he thought back to the one bad incident of the evening, he realized that if those two college jocks hadn't harassed Chrissy, he would never have met Andrew: his new mentor and substitute Big Brother. I wouldn't have traded this evening for anything, JP thought to himself, very pleased that he had once again found someone he could look up to. He hoped that with Andrew's help, he could one day repair his relationship with his older brother, though he suspected it would get worse before it would get better. About half an hour later, Andrew and his friends said goodbye to JP and his friends, agreeing to meet them the next afternoon at Burke Lake Park: a large park near JP's house. "Thanks for a wonderful day at the National Mall JP," Andrew said, as he stepped off the train at Pentagon City Station. "See you at Burke Lake Park tomorrow. Call me when you're ready to meet." "No problem man," JP said, holding the doors open as Mike and Carrie stepped off to stand beside Andrew on the platform. "Thanks for the wonderful opportunity to see Ohio State in a few days with you and your friends. Have a good night Andrew." "You're welcome man," Andrew said, as the doors began to close. "See you tomorrow 'Little Brother'." The doors closed before JP could reply and he quickly raised his hand to wave goodbye to Andrew. As the train pulled away from the platform, JP wished more than anything that he was waving to his true big brother Ryan. Please let me know what you think and if I did justice to the JP Character and his innermost thoughts, a point of view that I can't remember being shown before in either the JP or Nick stories. Note: I will gradually transfer the illustrated version of the story onto my website: http://seanspictures.webs.com. All the pictures will come from my trip to Washington DC on July 3rd, 2011.
  4. * FINALLY FINISHED * "Ah, so you're JP's big brother," Andrew realized, once he heard the caller's name. "It's good to meet you man: verbally at least." "It's good to meet you too Andrew," Ryan replied, fully aware that his former coach could hear them. He didn't give voice to his thoughts: I don't want to be known as JP's brother; I'm my own man! "Once Tyler told me all about you, I looked you up on that new YouTube site and saw all your videos. You're an awesome football player man, and you'll have no trouble getting a full ride to any school you want!" "Thanks man," Andrew said, pleased that Ryan had told him how he had found out all about him. "I'm glad to have one fan at least." "Much more than just one, considering all the views your videos got," Ryan assured him sincerely. "That's part of the reason my college coach wanted me to call Coach Palmer and arrange this phone call. My coach told me to tell you that he's going to arrange an Unofficial Recruiting Visit down here for you the next time you're in Virginia." "That's very flattering man; thank him for me," Andrew said. "I'll have to give you the contact information for my high school football coach back in Orillia. He can coordinate with your college football coach to arrange everything for the visit." "It wasn't just your online videos that put you on his radar Andrew," Ryan informed him. "He also took note of your impressive performance at the football camps you attended this spring." "Well I'm glad I wasn't easy to miss," Andrew said seriously. "After all, I was among dozens of other high school football players at those camps, and I think I was the only Canadian there." "You're impossible to miss Andrew," Ryan assured him . "My coach told me that when he saw you in March, you weighed 275 pounds and stood 6 foot 7 inches tall." "Those were my old stats," Andrew said with a cocky smirk. He noticed Coach Palmer edging away to give him some privacy and added, "I'm bigger now." "How much do you weigh now Andrew?" Ryan asked him, sounding a little nervous. "305 pounds of solid muscle," Andrew replied, having detected a hint of fear in Ryan's voice. "It was a great day when I reached the average weight of an NFL lineman." "That's awesome man; I'm really happy for you," Ryan said sincerely. "Coach Palmer's no longer in hearing range Ryan; tell me how you really feel," Andrew said, just to test him. "I have been man," Ryan said seriously, hearing the slight hint of menace in Andrew's voice. I'm going to have to watch myself with him, he thought to himself. He sounds like he's just as smart as my little brother! "My coach told me that your performance at the spring football camps led to you getting offers for Unofficial Recruiting Visits throughout the Midwest." "Starting with Ohio State tomorrow," Andrew said, deliberately dropping the name of JP's hopeful college. "When do I get to meet you in person Ryan?" "You'll have to wait until your Unofficial Recruiting Visit at Virginia Tech," Ryan replied. "My coach asked me if I would be willing to be your campus guide, and I'd be glad to do it." "Thanks man," Andrew said gratefully, getting the feeling that Ryan was a really great guy under his cocky jock exterior. "You know, I just thought of a way we can see each other face-to-face even if we're probably dozens of miles apart." "You're right man, I'm in Harrisonburg off I-81 right now," Ryan agreed. "How can we see each other face-to-face without being in the same room?" he asked. "On Skype man," Andrew replied. "I have it on my laptop. Do you have it on yours?" "Sure I do man," Ryan replied with a big grin, getting excited at the notion of seeing just how big and muscular Andrew truly was. "Do you want to talk later once you get back to your hotel room?" "That sounds like a great idea," Andrew replied, anxious to see what the famous Ryan Maloney looked like. "It's a much better way for two new friends to chat long distance than on Instant Messenger." He heard a long silence on the other end of the line and hastily added, "If you want to be friends, that is." "That's fine with me Andrew," Ryan agreed eagerly. "It would be great to get to know you better and find out how you got so big and strong. Coach told me that you can bench 700 pounds for reps!" "Yeah, that's only because I couldn't find enough weight plates in your home gym to get to my max of 800 pounds tonight," Andrew said cockily. "Hopefully the gym at Virginia Tech has enough weight plates to challenge me." "Wow!" Ryan shouted in astonishment after another long silence. "You're insanely strong man; I bet you can bust through any defensive line effortlessly!" "Yeah I can man, but I always help the other players up afterwards to be a good sport," Andrew said seriously. "No sense being a sore winner." "I've heard of sore losers, but what's a sore winner?" Ryan asked curiously. "A sore winner is someone who gloats about his victory, acting cocky and arrogant as he rubs his success in other people's faces," Andrew replied. He decided to be completely honest with Ryan about his younger brother and added, "Kind of like how JP was during his last workout with you this spring." "So he told you about that, did he?" Ryan asked angrily. "No, I kind of tricked it out of him," Andrew replied. "I'll tell you more when we chat on Skype tonight, but I'd better text you my contact information on Skype now." "Don't forget your cell phone number Andrew, and ask Coach Palmer for mine," Ryan reminded him. "Thanks man," Andrew said gratefully, pleased that he and Ryan could keep in touch. "You know, it might be hard for you to confirm you got the text while you're on the phone with me," he suddenly realized. "Do you have a notepad you can write on instead?" "Good idea man; yeah I do," Ryan replied. After a few seconds, he said, "Go ahead Big Guy, I'm ready." Andrew quickly gave him all the required information and then Ryan returned the favour, once Andrew pulled out his cell phone. "I've got all your contact information Ryan," Andrew said. "I'll text you when I get back to my hotel and then we can meet face-to-face on Skype." "I look forward to it Andrew," Ryan said sincerely. "Get Coach Palmer back on the phone. I want to thank him for arranging this cell phone call with you this evening." "That's a good idea Ryan," Andrew said, signalling Coach Palmer to come closer. Once Coach Palmer stepped up beside him, Andrew added, "It was great talking to you man; I'll see you on Skype later tonight." "Goodbye Andrew," Ryan said, before Andrew handed Coach Palmer's cell phone back to him. Andrew waited patiently while Ryan filled Coach Palmer in on all that he had discussed with Andrew. Once the call was over, Coach Palmer turned to Andrew and said, "Very good Andrew: now you have another Unofficial Recruiting Visit lined up for this summer, hosted by one of my best players no less! Ryan thinks a lot of you and he'll be very happy to host a big man like you on campus!" "Yeah, and I'll enjoy being hosted by the Big Man on Campus," Andrew said with a big grin. "Very funny Andrew, making a play on my words like that!" Coach Palmer chuckled. "Hey, I don't just have brawn, I actually have brains as well!" Andrew reminded him with a cocky smirk. "I know that now Andrew," Coach Palmer assured him with an indulgent smile. "But since we're standing on the football field, how about you show me just how skilled you are at using your brawn. I can see that you're already prepared, since you're holding your football." He noticed Andrew's cocky smirk morph into a confident grin and added, "I'll use my digital camera to capture your performance on the field and then I can send that video to Ryan's college coach." Andrew nodded in agreement and slowly took off his football jacket. "Would you mind putting my jacket on the fence behind you Coach? I don't want it to get dirty." "You just want to leave the back of your Varsity Jacket free for a Provincial Championship patch, don't you?" Coach Palmer realized with a big grin. When Andrew nodded, he added, "Then you'd better take off your t-shirt as well, then you won't get it dirty either." Andrew grinned with excitement at the prospect of showing off his huge muscles and slowly began to peel off his skin-tight t-shirt, disguising the effort to make it look like a show for the coach. Coach Palmer's eyes widened in astonishment and more than a little fear at Andrew's massive shoulders, huge pecs, enormous biceps and eight-pack abs. "Uhhh... that's great Andrew, now jog across the field to the other end zone so that I can throw you the ball," Coach Palmer stammered. "You can catch a hundred yard pass, can't you?" "If you can throw the ball that far Coach," Andrew teased him. "I certainly can Andrew; I just hope you can run that far," Palmer said, taking the Miami Football out of Andrew's hands. "Move it Mister: that's an order!" "Yes Sir!" Andrew shouted eagerly, running down the field with huge strong strides. Coach Palmer cocked his arm back, marshalled all his strength and threw the football as high and as far as he could. He followed the flight of the ball as it arced through the air and had to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun in the west. He finally saw Andrew catch the football at the opposite end zone and he realized at that moment that none of the videos he had seen of Andrew's performance on the football field had been exaggerated. ================================================================================================================================================= Meanwhile, in a hotel room in Harrisonburg, Virginia, off Interstate 81, a strikingly handsome jock with jet black hair and piercing green eyes stood up from the couch by the window and grinned. Perfect, Ryan Maloney thought to himself. I'll be able to learn from my new friend Andrew Pearson how to get really huge and strong. With any luck, he'll pick my school over Ohio State and then we can be right beside each other on the Offensive Line. Ryan frowned as he suddenly realized something. Once I get big enough that the coach lets me play, of course. But then he grinned again when he realized that he had found the perfect reason to give Andrew for why he wanted to get bigger and stronger. He'll never know that I just want to get big enough that my little dweeb brother can never get close to beating me in anything ever again! "Who were you talking to out here Ryan?" Luke asked, stepping out of the washroom after his shower. "One of my brother's friends man," Ryan replied, turning to face his smaller friend with a smug grin on his face. "Is he a dorky band geek like your brother?" Luke asked with a sneer. "No man, in fact he's big enough to make you look like a runt," Ryan replied with a slight glare. He maximized the YouTube Video he had been watching of Andrew before Coach Palmer had texted him. "See for yourself man; keep an eye on number 3: Andrew Pearson," he said, as he sat back down on the couch. Luke and Ryan watched the highlight video of the 2004 Provincial Championship game between Andrew's team, the ODCVI Blues from Orillia, and the Eastview Wildcats from Barrie. "Wow man!" Luke shouted in astonishment once the video had ended. "You've got to convince your coach at Tech to get Andrew down there for an Unofficial Recruiting Visit this summer." "Already done man, after Tyler told me all about him," Ryan said with a cocky smirk. "And guess who gets to host him for his visit!" "You mean, you're going to be the host?" Luke asked him in surprise. "Of course man, who else?" Ryan scoffed. "Who better to host an incoming freshman than a current freshman?" He left out the part where his Tech coach had reminded him that all Redshirt Freshmen had to act as student hosts for incoming freshman prospects. "Once I showed this video to Coach, he told me to call my high school coach and set up a phone call with Andrew. And thanks to Coach Palmer calling Coach Graves, who called my dad, JP ended up bringing Andrew over to Central High School this evening. Once he got Andrew alone, Coach Palmer texted me and I called him and got to speak to Andrew. He's a really great football player, as you could see from the highlight videos." "Hey maybe you and Andrew can become teammates on the Offensive Line next fall and win a college football championship," Luke suggested. "Yeah, and maybe Andrew can show me how to get as huge and ripped as he is!" Ryan shouted in excitement, flexing his massive biceps. "Then I can leave that little dweeb brother of mine in the dust once and for all!" "That would be awesome man!" Luke shouted in excitement. "Then when you go home for Christmas you can give that brother of yours the worst present he's ever had!" "Yeah, the present of my awesome presence!" Ryan shouted, proving that Andrew wasn't the only smart guy in the state. "How will you convince Andrew to help you get bigger without revealing the real reason?" Luke suddenly asked. "Easy, I'll just tell him the truth: my coach at Tech won't let me play until I'm a lot bigger and stronger," Ryan said smugly. "Andrew will never realize that I just want to get huge to dominate my little brother so completely that he'll shrivel up and rot just like a little raisin!" "Sounds like you've got it all figured out," Luke realized. "So, enough talk; you want to head out and see what kind of summer parties JMU has to offer?" "Sure man, and maybe I can find a hot chick who wants a piece of me," Ryan sneered with a suggestive smirk. "I'll keep my cell on vibrate so that when Andrew texts me, I can get back here and see him on Skype." "You want me to come back with you?" Luke asked, as they headed out the door. "Naw man, I want to see him alone," Ryan replied. "If he sees two of us, he might think something's up when I ask him if he'll help me get bigger like him." Luke nodded in agreement as they headed down the hall. Ryan breathed a silent sigh of relief, relieved that Luke hadn't figured out the true reason that Ryan wanted to speak to Andrew alone: so that no one could horn in on the new friendship that he was hoping to form with JP's new mentor. ================================================================================================================================================= Andrew had been showing off his football skills for ten minutes, so neither he nor Coach Palmer noticed JP coming out of the high school gym. Andrew threw his football from the far end of the field to Coach Palmer, but he threw it too far and it hit JP in the chest before he could catch it. "Are you okay JP?" Palmer asked as JP fell onto his back. But then he grinned as JP rolled through the fall and back to his feet. "I guess you are okay," he realized, noticing the cocky smirk on JP's face. "Sure I am Coach; it will take a lot more than a 120 yard pass to hurt me," JP assured him; relieved that his high pain tolerance had allowed him to withstand the impact of the football. "That's the furthest I've ever seen anyone throw a football though; even Clark Kent on Smallville last season restricted himself to 60 yard passes!" "Andrew outweighs Clark by at least 80 pounds of solid muscle," Palmer said, grinning at JP's huge friend as he jogged shirtless across the field towards them. His jaw dropped in astonishment as Andrew stopped in front of him and he could only stare in awe at the sweat glistening on the body of the hulking muscle god in front of him. "Uh, very good job Andrew: your football skills are very impressive," he managed to stammer out. He turned to JP, whose eyes were as wide as his own and asked, "What did you think of Andrew's performance on the field tonight?" "It was amazing Coach; I can see why you wanted to see him tonight," JP realized. He noticed the digital camera in Palmer's hands and added, "It looks like you got a lot of good footage of Andrew's football skills. Which school are you going to send it to?" Coach Palmer and Andrew looked at each other uncertainly, unsure how to answer JP's question without making him mad. "Are you going to tell him Coach, or should I?" Andrew finally asked Coach Palmer. "Tell me what?" JP snapped, guessing that there could only be one reason why they so reluctant to name the school. "It's Virginia Tech JP," Coach Palmer replied, gambling that his position as Head Football Coach would keep him safe from JP's wrath. He was right, because all JP did was narrow his eyes slightly in anger. "I'll let Andrew tell you all about it; I've got everything I need," he added, holding up his digital camera. "See you later JP and nice meeting you Andrew." With that, Coach Palmer beat a hasty retreat into the high school, leaving Andrew alone to face JP. Andrew looked over cautiously at JP, who was glaring at him with a look of fury on his face. "Go ahead JP; let me have it for talking to your brother and then I can explain how it happened," Andrew sighed. "I ought to punch you in the face for even talking to Ryan, knowing how much I hate him!" JP snapped. "Fine, do it if you think it 'll make you feel better!" Andrew snapped back. "It won't make any difference to me; I probably won't feel it anyway!" JP roared in fury and lunged at Andrew, his right fist leading the way. SMACK! JP punched Andrew in the face with all his strength. To make his smaller friend feel better, Andrew let his head snap around from the blow, even though he didn't feel a thing. Encouraged by thinking that he had actually hurt Andrew, JP kept punching Andrew in the face, making his big friend's head rock back and forth. Andrew didn't even stumble or flinch though, and eventually JP got tired. He stopped punching Andrew in the face and settled for kneeing him in the gut instead. Soon JP's hands began to ache from punching Andrew's tough jaw and his knees felt like they had impacted a concrete wall. JP ignored the pain for a couple more minutes and kept hitting Andrew in the abs until he finally tired out and he was no longer mad. "Feel better now JP?" Andrew asked, breathing a sigh of relief that JP had stopped attacking him. Hopefully he got some of the rage at his brother out of his system by attacking me! "You look tired." "Yeah I am Andrew," JP replied, smiling when he noticed Andrew rubbing his chin with one hand and his abs with the other. As he tried to catch his breath, he added, "I'm glad I was able to hurt you a bit; that means that I'll be able to wipe the floor with Ryan the next time I see him!" "Good JP, can we go now?" Andrew asked him impatiently. "Or did you want to throw my football around for a while on an actual football field?" "That would be great Andrew," JP said excitedly. "You always know what to say to make me feel better." "And apparently I know what to do as well, since letting you punch me several times calmed you down," Andrew realized with a gentle smile. "What do you mean by 'letting' me?" JP asked him in surprise. "I mean that I could have caught all your punches if I had wanted to," Andrew replied, crossing his massive arms with a smug grin. Then he noticed JP frowning, so he decided to cheer him up. "But I figured that it would make you feel better if I acted as your human punching bag. Anytime you want to let out your frustrations by doing it again, just let me know man. Or don't; it won't matter to me because I barely felt anything anyway." "Thanks a lot Andrew; now you've made me feel worse!" JP snapped at him. "Sorry about that man, but you punched me, not the other way around," Andrew reminded him with a cocky grin. "But you don't hear me complaining about it!" "That's because you just admitted that I barely hurt you!" JP snapped in fury. "That's because I'm almost twice your size JP," Andrew reminded him. When JP glared at him, Andrew sighed and added, "But if it makes you feel any better, you did hurt me a little bit." "Not enough Andrew!" JP yelled in fury. "How am I supposed to take Ryan down if I can't even make you wince when I punch you?" "I outweigh Ryan by almost a hundred pounds," Andrew reminded him, having to clench his fists to keep from snapping back at JP. JP grinned: suddenly feeling better and Andrew grinned back at him. "Now can I tell you how I ended up talking with Ryan over the phone?" "Yes Andrew," JP replied, suddenly realizing how lucky he was that he hadn't made his huge friend mad. Andrew told him the whole story and concluded by telling JP that he would show Ryan just how big he was on Skype later that night. Then he and JP finally got to throw the football around on the field for about an hour. Andrew showed JP some of the football drills he went through as an Offensive Lineman at ODCVI. JP smiled to himself, really happy that Andrew was playing football with him: something Ryan had never done. Once they were done, it was 10 pm and getting dark. The lights around the field came on and Andrew had an idea. He stood under the uprights near his car and said, "So this is what the Friday Night Lights look like." "It's Tuesday night Andrew," JP teased him with a smirk. "Funny man JP; it was a figure of speech and you know it!" Andrew laughed. "Speaking of figures, you certainly make an imposing one with the lights behind you," JP suddenly realized, a trace of fear showing up on his face. "Then take a picture of me with my game face on," Andrew ordered him, getting down into his three point stance with one hand holding his football. Andrew glared up at the camera as if he was about to take down his opponent and JP quickly took the picture, feeling very afraid of his huge friend at that moment. "Okay Andrew, how about we try one with you smiling?" JP suggested, trying unsuccessfully to keep the fear out of his voice. "Sorry about that JP; I didn't mean to scare you," Andrew apologized. He grinned up at JP, who took another picture, and then stood up to his full height of six feet and seven inches. "There now JP: we've played football, taken some pictures, met your wrestling coach and you've used me as a human punching bag. Are you ready to go home now?" "Yeah Andrew, and I'm really excited about tomorrow's recruiting visit to Ohio State," JP said with a big grin on his face. "The Ohio State JP," Andrew teased him, finally putting his t-shirt back on. He noticed JP mock-glaring at him and laughed. "Don't look at me like that man; you're the one who corrected me about that earlier today!" "You're right Andrew," JP realized, as they headed to Andrew's truck with their Varsity Jackets slung over their shoulders. As they reached Andrew's truck, he asked, "So what are you going to do when you get back to your hotel with Carrie and Mike?" "I'm going to call Ryan on-" Andrew began, before having to catch JP's fist in mid-punch. "Don't try that again JP: you've hit me enough for one night," Andrew growled in fury. He gave JP's fist a slight squeeze until JP winced in pain. "Do you get the point now man? I can catch your punches anytime I want to!" "Yes Andrew, I've got it!" JP gasped in pain. "Can you let me go now?" "Sure man; I've made my point," Andrew replied, releasing his iron grip on JP's fist. JP massaged his sore hand and Andrew said, "Why do you insist on asking questions that you don't want to hear the answer to?" "I don't know Andrew," JP replied, as they got into Andrew's truck. "I guess I'm just too curious for my own good." "Yeah, you seem to have forgotten that cautionary tale about the cat who was too curious," Andrew realized. "Don't even joke about that Andrew!" JP begged him. Andrew looked over and a look of concern came over his face when he saw how scared JP looked. "Aroused, your great physical strength could kill! And I only felt a tiny sample of it when you squeezed my fist!" "I'm sorry about that man, but you made me mad for a moment there," Andrew informed him. "I was in a really bad mood all last fall and the results weren't pretty." "Why was that Andrew?" JP asked, as Andrew started driving them back to JP's house. "My grandpa had a stroke last fall, just after I graduated Basic Reserves Training," Andrew replied. "I was really worried about him during football season, since he was confined to a wheelchair and could barely speak. Fortunately, my parents were able to bring him to every game, but then my nemesis David Harrington insulted him and I just lost it and punched him in the face, giving him a bloody nose. The next punch knocked him out. If Steve, Darrel and Mike hadn't pulled me away, I would have killed him with my bare hands!" JP just stared at Andrew in speechless terror as his big friend's face turned red with fury and his hands turned white on the steering wheel. Andrew looked over at JP, still furious from the bad memories, and saw the look of terror on his face. He started taking a few deep breaths to calm down and was relieved to see the normal look of confidence return to JP's face. JP wisely decided to wait until Andrew had calmed down completely before he asked, "What happened next Andrew?" "Coach Everson suspended me for two games and my parents chewed me out hard when we got back home," Andrew remembered, looking embarrassed. "I actually stayed in a hotel that weekend, not wanting to deal with anyone. Then when I got home from school on Monday evening, my dad informed me that my Grandpa (his dad, not my mom's) had suffered another massive stroke and was now confined to a hospital bed. I could see in his eyes that my dad blamed me for that, since Grandpa Pearson had attended the game where I took David out for insulting him. I felt really bad and I visited Grandpa every weekend after that, now that I had seen the damage my bad temper had caused." "It wasn't your fault Andrew," JP tried to assure his big friend. "It was probably just a coincidence that your grandpa had another stroke around the same time that you were punching David." "That's not true JP; he had the stroke at the game right after I attacked David!" Andrew shouted in frustration. "My rage stressed him out so badly that it caused his second stroke and put him in that hospital bed!" JP just stared at his big friend in sympathy, not having a clue what to say when he realized what an incredible burden of guilt Andrew had been carrying around for almost a year. Andrew sighed as a tear ran down his cheek and he and JP just drove in silence for a few minutes while he tried to compose himself. "What happened next Andrew?" JP asked his huge friend gently. "Coach Everson let me play in the Semi-Final and then the Provincial Championship Game," Andrew replied. "Unfortunately, the O-Line had learned some new plays under the back-up Center that I wasn't familiar with and we lost the Provincial Championship Game in the last second due to a missed field goal because David deflected it. I managed to control my temper about that but I broke down in my grandpa's hospital room as I told him a day later. He couldn't say a word, but he did reach over with his one good arm to grab my hand. I promised him that I would win the next Provincial Championship for him and he smiled. Then he fell asleep and I went home. We got the news the next morning that he had passed away during the night." "So you were the last person to see him and he went to heaven happy," JP guessed. "Yeah man," Andrew said with a gentle smile. "And now you know everything about last season and why I'm not really a cocky jock anymore." JP nodded in understanding. "You're the only one who knows everything I've told you, besides Carrie of course, and I want it to stay that way." JP nodded in understanding, realizing how much Andrew thought of him that he would reveal his innermost secrets. "Do you have anything else to tell me Andrew, or is that it?" JP asked. "That's it JP," Andrew replied, glancing over at his friend with a gentle smile. "I think we're even now, since you told me everything about you and Ryan earlier this evening." JP tried to keep the anger he felt at hearing the name of his big brother from showing on his face, because he remembered how easily Andrew had shut down his attempt to punch him earlier. I'd better be on my best behavior with Andrew; he could crush me with one hand tied behind his back! JP realized in sudden fear. Then he thought of something that made him smile. "Getting excited about the trip to the Ohio State tomorrow JP?" Andrew asked him. "Yeah Andrew," JP replied, not letting his huge friend know that he was actually thinking of how scared Ryan would be when he saw how big Andrew was. "I'm really grateful that you're taking me to see the school I hope to wrestle at in my college years." "No problem JP; Mark did it for me, so I'm returning the favour in a deflected manner," Andrew informed him. When JP looked at him with confusion, Andrew explained that his first protégé Mark Stevenson had invited Andrew along on his Official Recruiting Visits during the previous football season. "So in a way, Ohio State is already aware of me, because I went there with Mark on his Official Recruiting Visit almost one year ago," Andrew explained to JP. "Did you mentor him just so you could get early exposure to the NCAA?" JP teased him. Andrew glared over at him in mock fury, but a slight grin betrayed his true feelings. "Just joking Big Guy." "Hey, I told you before, you call me 'Huge Guy' JP!" Andrew roared, unable to keep a cocky grin from appearing on his face. JP laughed and the two of them continued joking around until they got back to JP's house. Once they got to JP's house, they parked in the driveway and Andrew turned to JP. "Thanks a lot for listening to everything I told you about last season without judgement JP," Andrew said gratefully. "You're a great friend." "Thanks Andrew; you are too," JP said, as his parents came out of the house. As he and Andrew got out of Andrew's truck, he said, "Coach Graves got in touch with all the wrestling coaches at each school we're going to, so I'll be having my own early Unofficial Recruiting Visits while you have yours." "Good job man; taking a page out of my book I see," Andrew said with a smug grin. He turned to his friends, who had come out of the house after JP's parents and asked them, "Did you guys have lots of fun with Matt and JP's parents while we were gone?" "Yeah man," Mike replied. "JP's parents were bragging about him while he was gone, showing us his wrestling photos, newspaper articles, trophies and his District Finalist Medal from last season." "I hope we can see a State Championship Medal from you next season JP," Mr. Maloney said with a frown. "You will Dad," JP assured him, trying to make his determination show on his face. "But in the meantime, I will have to show off my District Finalist Medal to the Ohio State Wrestling Coaches tomorrow." "Yeah, when I called Coach Graves and told him which schools Andrew was taking you to, he said that he would get in touch with the wrestling coaches at those schools," Mr. Maloney said proudly. "Yeah he showed me all the emails from them, in which they expressed their hope that I would talk to them while I'm on campus this week," JP said with a cocky smirk. "So I told Coach to say 'Yes, he'll be glad to meet you there' and he added my cell phone number to the email replies. Then the coaches can text me with the details." "And all this wouldn't have happened if Andrew hadn't offered to take you with him on his recruiting visits," Mrs. Maloney said, reaching up to put a hand on Andrew's massive shoulder. Andrew looked very embarrassed as JP's parents ushered Andrew inside to talk to him some more. "Where's your mom Matt?" JP asked, finally noticing that she was missing from the group. "She already went home, after leaving a packed suitcase here for me," Matt replied. "What did you and Andrew do at the high school?" JP ushered him into the house so that they could talk, leaving Mike and Carrie standing outside on the front walk. "Do you feel that we've been forgotten by Andrew over the last couple of days?" Mike asked Carrie. "No more than the past three years when Andrew spent a lot of time mentoring his current teammates," Carrie reminded him. "He didn't have to mentor you of course; your big brother Matt did a lot of that, as well as training Andrew for football before high school." "Yeah, Matt's mentoring of me and Andrew got us ready for high school football so that we played on the Varsity Team even during our Freshman Year," Mike remembered. "Of course, Coach Everson had Andrew be the back-up to Carl, the Centre, that year. Then Carl left for Miami and Andrew took over at Centre in Grade Ten." "Good thing too, because the college recruiting started just last year: Andrew's second season as Centre," Carrie reminded him. Mike grinned and nodded, and Carrie added, "I'm a little surprised that no college coaches have recruited me for Girl's Hockey yet." "Ask to meet the Girl's Hockey coaches at each school we visit and you'll find lots of recruiters visiting you this fall," Mike predicted. Carrie grinned at Mike: pleased that for all his big muscles, he hadn't lost any of the intelligence that had let him tutor Andrew and Phil in exchange for weight training years ago. Carrie and Mike chatted outside for a few more minutes and then went into the Maloney house, where they found almost everyone talking in the living room. As Carrie looked around, she noticed that Andrew and JP were not there. "Where are Andrew and JP?" she asked Mr. Maloney. "JP took Andrew up to his room to show off all his wrestling newspaper stories and trophies," Paul replied proudly. Carrie nodded in understanding: pleased that Andrew had found another protégé after not having one the previous year. Up in his bedroom, JP was proudly showing Andrew all the newspaper clippings and trophies from his high school wrestling career. "This is very impressive JP; you have really achieved great athletic success in only two years," Andrew congratulated him. "And you're a District Finalist as well." "Probably nothing compared to what you've achieved Andrew; you actually won the District Title." "Yeah, but this coming wrestling season, you'll win the State Title JP," Andrew predicted with an encouraging smile. JP smiled as Andrew had once again made him feel better. "What did you want to do now Andrew?" "Help you pack for the college road trip that starts next week, but perhaps I should see Ryan's room first." "What for Andrew?" JP asked with an angry look on his face. "I want an objective view of the kind of guy he is," Andrew replied. "A look in his room is the best glance I will get at his character since he probably decorated it himself." "Fine, let's get it over with so that we can plan our trip," JP agreed reluctantly. He led Andrew to Ryan's room and opened the door, revealing all the posters of scantily-clad women all over the walls. "Well, that certainly reveals Ryan's true character with one look," Andrew realized. "On my walls at home, I have football players banging heads on the field." "So now you see how different you and Ryan are, which explains why I think of you as my big brother instead of him," JP explained, closing Ryan's door again. Andrew nodded and followed JP back to his room to help him pack for the road trip. About an hour later, Andrew and his two friends said goodbye to JP and his family and headed back to their hotel. Once there, Andrew told Carrie that he wanted to talk to JP's brother on Skype. "Okay Andrew, I'll just go have a shower before bed," Carrie said. "Have fun talking to your new friend." Andrew had told her all about his talk with Ryan earlier that evening. "I will Carrie, and I'm going to wear my ODCVI football t-shirt so that he can see just how big and strong I am," Andrew said with a smirk. "Fine, have fun playing 'Who's the Alpha' with Ryan," Carrie laughed. "See you later Big Man," "That's 'Huge Man' to you 'Little Girl'," Andrew teased her with a mock glare. Carrie laughed and headed into the bathroom to have her shower. Andrew pulled out his Motorola Razor and texted Ryan. Then he activated Skype and waited. ================================================================================================================================================= Meanwhile, at a club in Harrisonburg, Virginia, Ryan's cell phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket with a frown. "Sorry babe, I've been expecting this text," he apologized to the hot girl he was in the middle of kissing. He read the text and grinned when he realized that Andrew was ready to start their Skype Chat. "I'm going to talk to my new friend, and he'll show me how to get even bigger and stronger for you next time," he promised her emptily. Ryan stepped back and quickly found Luke so that he could tell him where he was going. Then he headed out of the club, after promising to pick Luke up later, and drove back to their hotel to talk to Andrew. Perfect, Ryan thought to himself as he drove. Andrew will teach me how to become really big and strong so that I can give the girls more pleasure than they've ever dreamed of! And I'll be big enough to smash that dweeb brother of mine into pieces, as well as all opposing players in the games this season! Ryan was still grinning about his foolproof strategy to get Andrew's help when he pulled into the hotel parking lot. He stepped out of his car, put on his best arrogant jock face, and sauntered into the lobby, grinning like a cat at all the pretty girls he passed by. But this time, he didn't talk to any of them, he was too eager to see his new friend Andrew face-to-face. Once he got up to his hotel room, he went inside, opened up his laptop and activated Skype. As the image on the screen resolved into focus, Ryan's jaw dropped as he saw what was on the screen. ================================================================================================================================================ Andrew smirked as he saw the look of shock on the face of the black-haired, green-eyed jock on his laptop screen. "Ryan Maloney?" Andrew asked, just to make sure he was talking to the right person. The big guy on the screen nodded silently; still too shocked to speak. "I'm JP's new friend Andrew Pearson." He waited for almost a minute before Ryan got up his nerve to finally say something. "How are you man?" "Oh just fine; I had lots of fun on the Central High football field showing off my football skills for Coach Palmer," Andrew said with a cocky smirk. Part of him realized he probably shouldn't act so cocky, but then he realized that he had finally found someone who would approve of him acting like an arrogant jock. "I threw a pass that went the entire length of the field and knocked JP off his feet when he tried to catch it!" Ryan's look of shock intensified and then a fleeting look of concern appeared on his face. It was quickly erased by an arrogant smirk, however. "Did that little dweeb run home and cry to Mommy about it?" he sneered. "Be careful Ryan; that's my new protégé you're talking about," Andrew warned him, his protective instincts flaring up. "And he told me how he was once yours." "Yeah he was," Ryan said, remembering his last workout with JP less than fondly. "Sorry about that Andrew; my brother and I just don't get along anymore." "Did you want to talk about it Ryan?" Andrew asked. "It won't go any further than the two of us, since my girlfriend isn't in here with me." "Okay Andrew, and then we can talk about more exciting things: like your upcoming recruiting visit to Virginia Tech," Ryan agreed. "And I will email you the video that Coach Palmer emailed me of my exploits on the Central High School football field," Andrew offered. "Then you can forward it to your football coach at Tech." "Good thinking Andrew," Ryan agreed. He began telling Andrew about how his little brother JP had followed him around everywhere all his life and then started bugging him about working out when he got to high school. So Ryan began teaching him how to work out, but he never imagined JP would take to it so well and get close to surpassing him. So Ryan gradually removed himself from his brother's workouts, especially after the events of three months before, and their relationship was practically non-existent since then. "That sounds rough man," Andrew said sympathetically, realizing that JP felt the same way. "I went through something similar with one of my good friends about seven years ago." "Tell me about it Andrew; I can listen while I watch the video you sent me," Ryan said, opening up the email attachment. So Andrew told Ryan all about his failed friendship with Steve, basically repeating word-for-word the same things he had told JP the night before. Like JP before him, Ryan was amazed at how similar his experiences were to Andrew's. "So what do you think Ryan?" Andrew asked, once he had finished telling Ryan everything. "That's an amazing story Andrew, and I can see that we have a lot more in common than just being great football players," Ryan replied sincerely. All thoughts of acting like an arrogant jock in front of Andrew were gone, and he felt that he could finally be himself with his new friend, which was a great relief for him. "Your video is amazing as well, and my coach at Tech will be really excited to see it." "More excited than you are Ryan?" Andrew teased him, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah man," Ryan replied with a big grin. "But I'm excited to meet you in person as well, and I'll talk to Coach and get an Unofficial Recruiting Visit set up for you at Tech later this summer." "Thanks man," Andrew said gratefully, sensing that their conversation was wrapping up. "Well, I look forward to it, but right now, I'm going to have a shower and go to bed. Do you want me to say hi to JP for you when I see him again tomorrow morning?" "No Andrew, I will when I see him again," Ryan replied seriously. "And do me a favour." "What's that Ryan?" Andrew asked him. "Don't talk about my brother anymore with me unless I ask you about him," Ryan said. "No problem Ryan," Andrew agreed. "Text me later if you want to have another Skype chat." "I will man; just email me your travel plans so I know where you'll be tomorrow night," Ryan said. "Sure thing man; talk to you later," Andrew said, preparing to sign off. "See you Andrew," Ryan said, just before he ended the conversation. Andrew sat back in his desk chair and stared at the blank screen for a moment: thinking hard. Hopefully one day I'll be there when Ryan and JP have fixed their relationship and then I won't have to choose which one to be friends with, he thought to himself. Then he heard Carrie calling him from the bathroom. "Andrew, I'm ready to have another shower: this time with you!" Andrew grinned, stood up, and headed into the bathroom, looking forward to having lots of fun with his girlfriend before they went to bed. * FINALLY FINISHED * COMING SOON: - The Road Trip to Ohio State - The Ohio State Recruiting Visit itself - JP gets a head start on his own college recruiting process thanks to Andrew My website page for this chapter: http://seanspictures.webs.com has a picture from Google of what I imagine Ryan would look like. Just click on the link for Chapter 5 and go halfway down to see it.
  5. Hey guys, I've been checking out stories on this board for a long time and although there's some great stuff, nothing really quite checked all the boxes for me. So I took it upon myself to write a story of my own. This is my first ever submission so go easy on me! Katie and Steven's muscle building project My name is Steven and I graduated from high school at the age of 18. Having finished highschool I was Finally free to go about accomplishing the dream I’d had for what felt like forever. In order to escape the judgement and scrutiny of my friends and family I decided to leave my small hometown and move across the country to Toronto. There I’d be able to hopefully start the process I’d always dreamed of. What was this dream? I had an insatiable appetite to become a bodybuilder. Nothing excited me more than the thought of standing up on a stage, posing for a crowd, large rippling muscles covering my whole body. But I had a long ways to go. I’d been working out every day for the last 4 years and had put on a bit of muscle, bringing my 6’ 4” body up from 160lbs to 180lbs, but it wasn’t near enough. At my height, in order to look like the IFBB pros I idolized I’d need to get up to 300lbs at least. The truth was, there was really only one way to accomplish my goal and that was to dedicate my entire life to bodybuilding. It meant taking all the chemical means available to me, spending all my free time training, and all my money on food and supplements. How could I possibly explain to my family that instead of going to university, I was going to dedicate all my time and money to becoming a bodybuilder? To them it probably would seem like an incredibly vain pursuit, but to me it was so much deeper. Even though I didn’t look very much like one at the time, I felt like I already had the soul of a bodybuilder. It was like I couldn’t be at peace or feel whole until I looked and felt like a bodybuilder; it was my purpose on this earth and I felt like it was a pursuit to make the best version of myself. So with all this in mind, I packed my stuff into my VW Golf, and drove across the country to start my muscle building journey in the Country’s biggest city. I knew I’d need some serious funds to support the “gear” I needed for my training, as well as for my food and gym membership. So I sought out the highest paying job I could get and one that most people couldn’t stomach, washing windows on the highrise towers of the city. I got paid 5 grand a month and had flexible hours which left me plenty of time to train. Next up I found an apartment in a nice condo tower. With the money and apartment situation handled, I sought out a gym. I didn’t want anything fancy, just somewhere with free weights, lots of plates and other like minded people. I found a gym just on the outskirts of the city and signed up. For the first few months my schedule consisted of going to my window washing job from 6:00am to 2:00pm, then hitting the gym for at least 2-3 hours after work. I’d then head home, prepare all my food for the next day, and go to sleep. I had very little time for socializing and making friends. Besides, I needed to dedicate my time to growing my muscles and as long as I was making progress on that front, I was happy. There’s a simple trick to muscle building that they don’t tell you in those bodybuilding magazines: more food on the plate, and more weight on the bar. That’s really all it takes to build muscle. Even without gear, someone can put on an impressive amount of mass this way. And that is the method I followed. I trained in the 8-12 rep range, doing heavy compound lifts. And I ate 7000 calories per day, with 450grams of protein. If you can’t picture this, let me just say that this is no easy feat. It felt like all I did all day was eat. I’d even set my alarm for the middle of the night and have a midnight snack just to keep my growth going. While all this eating might seem like a chore, to me every time I looked at yet another heaping plate full of food to eat, I got incredibly turned on thinking about the muscle growth that could result from it. I moved to Toronto in September. By the end of November I had put on 15 pounds of muscle. Growth was happening quickly since for the first time in my life I could actually give my body both the training stimulus and nutrition that it needed to get bigger. All my shirts and jeans started to fit just a little tighter, and more form fitting, but not enough to be over the top just yet. I went home for Christmas that year. I figured, I should show my face to my family now when I still looked relatively the same as before, and that way it would buy me a whole another year where I could really pack on some weight. In the new year I had plans to take my muscle growth to the next level with some extra “assistance.” By next Christmas I hoped to be approaching “freaky” mass status and so fielding questions from my family at that point would be inevitable. But by then my new life would be well underway so they’d just have to accept me for who I was. When I got back to Toronto, I set about the somewhat awkward project of buying “gear.” I debated long and hard whether to go down this road, but in the end I realized that you only live once, and if this was truly my dream then I needed to do whatever it took to accomplish it. There were some people at my gym who clearly used ‘roids, but I just couldn’t bring myself to ask them where they sourced them. Instead, I found a wellness clinic that would actually give you a potent cocktail of all the best gear as long as you had a Doctor’s prescription. It just so happened that the Doctor worked in that very same office so he would just write you the prescription anyways. Not really understanding how this was allowed and suspecting that it maybe wasn’t quite legal, I figured it was my best shot anyways. The Doctors name was Ilya, and I discovered that he had actually been involved with the East German Olympic team back in the 80s when many of their athletes had been suspected of taking steroids. He had come to Canada about 20 years ago. He opened this clinic because for him, it wasn’t about money, or fame or glory or any of that. He was simply a scientist who loved exercise science and marvelled at the potential of the human body. His patients were his test subjects and he liked helping them accomplish their goals while simultaneously discovering new effects of the different drugs that he concocted. His clinic was able to fly under the radar of authorities because he was very selective of which patients he chose to give his drugs to. The average “gym bro” who would go bragging to all his friends about his “gainz” was not a valid candidate for him. On our first meeting I could tell he really just wanted to get to know me, and find out what my goals were. When I told him that my primary focus was putting on as much mass as possible he nodded like someone who had probably heard that from a hundred other patients before me. In the Doctor, however, I felt like I found someone who might finally understand the drive that I had for muscle and so without realizing it, I poured my heart and soul out for him to hear. I told him how I’d had this burning desire for as long as I could remember, how I’d left my family to come out here and work towards this dream, how I longed to be a top competitor, and how the fame or money to be had in a bodybuilding career didn’t interest me at all. After half an hour I finally stopped talking and sheepishly realized I’d taken up too much of his time. Ilya simply smiled warmly. He told me that I reminded him of his own son, who himself was a top bodybuilder in Germany. Yes, he would gladly take me on as a patient, and there was even better news. He seemed to see in me a potential he had yet to see in anyone else since coming to Canada. Would I be willing to be his central patient? I’d be the one who would get his keenest attention and all the newest drug formulas he was working on. I was flattered and incredibly excited and so I agreed instantly. My treatments with Ilya began that day. He took my measurements that day: 197 pounds, 8% body fat, 15” biceps, 24” quads, 32” waist. Before I left his office that day he started me off on his standard “gear” protocol. The personalized treatments would begin next time. The second that I felt the needle enter my skin and saw the ‘roids being injected I got incredibly turned on. I literally ran from his office to the gym to start a workout so I could take advantage of this new potential. To maximize my growth I now started eating 11,000 calories per day which is 5 times what most adults consume. After every protein packed meal, or gruelling workout I swore I could feel my muscles expanding. And I hadn’t even begun Ilya’s experimental treatments yet. By the beginning of February I weighed in at 213lbs. I’d put on 16 pounds in a month! I could barely get my jeans to fit over my quads and glutes, and my arms stretched all my T-shirts to their limit. Every once in while when I was walking down the street I’d begun to see women turning their heads to oogle at me. My physique was beginning to take shape and it was having the desired effect. Ilya was impressed by the progress I’d made in the last month. I don’t think he’d ever seen someone literally dedicate every single ounce of energy to the goal of building muscle like I had. What’s more, he’d now perfected his experimental drug cocktail for me. It was tailor made to my genetics, goals and training style. He explained that this type of roid mix instead of simply containing testosterone, was designed to reengineer my body to start producing much more testosterone of it’s own as well as simultaneously blocking the myostatin that limits muscle cell growth in humans. Ilya was so confident that this mixture would cause rapid muscle growth that he gave me a bottle of oil to apply all over my body nightly so I wouldn’t get stretch marks. After getting injected with my new personalized cocktail I raced to the gym as usual. I had a shit eating grin on my face the entire time as I worked out. It felt like I had been given an unfair advantage compared to the rest of the muscle heads who trained at my gym. But had any of them given up as much as I had or dedicated themselves to their goals in the same way as me? After a 3 and a half our training session I got changed and headed back to my car. While I was inside it had started snowing and already there was half a foot of snow everywhere. It was dark outside as I drove through the snow back to my apartment. About half way home I saw a car that had gotten stuck in the large snowdrifts on the shoulder of the busy freeway. This was not a good place to be stuck because you were a sitting duck to get rear ended by other cars. Hastily I pulled up in front and got out of my car to see if I could help. As I walked up to the car, the driver rolled down the passenger window. The driver was a cute brunette, about the same age as me. She was so distraught that she was crying and she explained how she didn’t know what to do, since a tow truck wouldn’t be able to come for over an hour. Giving her a genuine smile, I told her I could help. With her behind the wheel, I got behind the car and started pushing. Together we got a rhythm going until she got enough momentum to get back onto the road. With her car now freed from the snow, I started walking back to my own car. She opened her drivers window as I walked by “Thanks so much, you are such a kind person for helping me. My name’s Katie. Why don’t you send me your phone number so I can text you a proper thanks.” I was caught off guard, I hadn’t given my phone number to a single person since I moved her. Socializing wasn’t something I did anymore. But I figured, what the heck, she just wants to be able to send me a nice note when she gets home. So I gave her my number and off she drove. The next weeks were a frenzy of muscle growth. Even eating 11,000 calories per day I wasn’t gaining an ounce of fat, in fact my waist was getting smaller by the day. So I upped my calories to 15,000. When I showed up for work in the morning, I had to bring an entire camping cooler just to store my lunch in. My coworkers began to joke that I’d need to ask for a raise soon just to pay for all the food I was eating. While I decided not to ask for a raise, I did have to go see my supervisor for one thing: my company issued coveralls were now too small and I couldn’t move my arms. I’d need the next size up. Ilya and I figured I was gaining a pound per week, which suited me just fine. I felt like I was accomplishing what I was put on this earth to do. Every night before bed I’d have to apply the lotion to my muscles to stop the stretch marks from forming. This often turned into a self lust session where I’d literally get lost in feeling up my own muscles. My rock hard biceps, huge round glutes, protruding pecs and chiselled abdominals were all just begging to be worshipped and I’d indulge myself for close to an hour every night, standing naked in front of the mirror until I climaxed and went to bed dreaming about getting even bigger. About a month after the snowstorm, I got a text. It was from Katie. She apologized for taking so long to get back to me but asked if I was interested in meeting up. She seemed like a really nice person, but I had moved here for one thing and one thing only: bodybuilding. So I sent some dismissive texts about having to work, and being too busy. But she was persistent. After a couple days of her messaging me I relented and agreed to meet up for coffee one night after I was done my workout. Of course, I ate a 3000 calorie post workout meal first before I met up with her. I got to the coffee shop first and sat down. I didn’t want to freak her out with my muscles so I wore a loose sweatshirt and jeans which didn’t quite hide my size but also didn’t go out of the way to show it off. Katie walked in a few minutes later. At first I didn’t recognize that it was her, I was simply staring at this beautiful woman who had walked into the coffee shop. But when she walked right up to me and said hi I realized it was Katie. I guess I hadn’t gotten a good look at her that dark night on the side of the freeway. Katie was beautiful. She was tall, just under 6’, she had great style and was wearing a stylish black dress, with her long brown hair done just perfectly. It was obvious that she had taken a lot of time to get ready for this meet-up because she looked perfectly done up. I couldn’t help but notice that her body was rocking too, she was slim but not too skinny. We sat and had coffees while we talked and got to know one another. She was from a small town too, not too far from where I grew up. She had also moved away from home to get away from overly restrictive friends and family. She had dreamed of becoming an architect in Toronto but now that she was here she was no longer sure what exactly she wanted. I told her that I’d moved here just to get away from home but I didn’t tell her about my bodybuilding obsession. After only a short time we felt like we’d known each other our whole lives. We discussed politics, travel, music and before we knew it we’d been talking for 4 hours and the café was closing. I think that was the longest I’d gone without eating a muscle building meal in over 5 months! As we walked out onto the street I felt a strange sensation welling up in me: I should have been desperate to get home to make my next meal and get to sleep so my muscles could keep growing. But I all of the sudden realized I couldn’t stand the thought of not continuing to hang out with Katie. So I asked her if she was interested in coming back to my place. Almost giddily she agreed. When we got back to my place I offered her a drink and gave her a tour. I think she was just pleasantly surprised that I hadn’t tried to get her into the bedroom right away. After showing her my place, I then went to the window so I could show her the view from my 22nd floor condo. She followed behind me and as I started to point out landmarks from the window she started to unbuckle my pants from behind me. Startled, I turned to face her and she smiled. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed me. Taking the hint, I kissed her back and immediately started taking off her black dress. I got her naked then without breaking off our kiss, picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Gently placing her on the bed I climbed up beside her. She now ripped off my sweatshirt, pants and T-shirt. We made out for a bit and then I threw on a condom and climbed on top, entering her from above. We passionately thrust in perfect harmony and I felt like I was in heaven. After a couple minutes of this bliss I felt Katie’s hands on my body and noticed she was wide eyed and feeling up my arms which I was using to support my self in our sex position. With one hand she was rubbing my left arm up and down feeling the different heads of the triceps, and with the other she was rubbing the cleavage formed between my two huge pec muscles. This kind of attention being paid to my muscles immediately turned me on so much that after 15 seconds I blew my load in a huge way. But it was fortunate timing because on my final thrust, Katie also threw her head back in orgasmic pleasure as she came hard. I climbed off of Katie and went to flush the condom down the toilet. As I walked back into the bedroom Katie was staring at me the whole time with her mouth half open. “I was NOT expecting to see that kind of body hiding under your clothes.” All of the sudden I started to feel self conscious and my face turned red. “I hope it doesn’t turn you off, I think you’re really beautiful” I stammered. Katie immediately smiled. In a reassuring tone she answered “It does Not turn me off. If anything, I’ve never been more turned on in my life! I guess you awoke a desire in me that I never knew I even had, because I can’t say I’ve ever seen someone with muscles like you. How come you’re so big?” I explained to Katie that bodybuilding was my biggest interest, and that I dreamed of entering a bodybuilding competition one day soon. I stopped short of pouring my heart out to her like I had to Ilya. Katie asked some of the obvious questions: how often do I train, how much do I eat etc. I gave her the Coles notes of my current lifestyle and the whole time, she listened attentively showing great interest in my training regimen. When I glanced at the clock and saw that it was midnight, I politely excused myself and told Katie that I was long overdue to have a feed and I just had to go to the kitchen for a few minutes. As I started to put some clothes back on, Katie stopped me “can you just stay naked? I’m enjoying the view.” I smiled and agreed. She followed me into the kitchen. I laid out the meal I was going to have. 4 cups of rice, 6 chicken breasts, 2 litres of milk, and a protein shake. “How are you able to eat so much, doesn’t it get boring?” Katie asked. “Yeah it is quite time consuming, but I know that in order to put on muscle I’ve got to get my nutrition. So in a way it’s kind of exciting. Each meal is basically going straight to my muscles.” After I had finished eating, we started getting ready to go to sleep. But I said that I had one last chore to do, explaining how I needed to oil up my muscles to prevent stretch marks. “Oh really?” Katie replied with a sly grin. “When was the last time you had someone to ‘assist’ you with that chore?” She grabbed the bottle and started to oil me up all over. Her hands felt like heaven and I was keenly aware of the lust emanating from her as she paid attention to my muscles. When she had covered every last inch of my body and I was standing there shining in the lamplight, she then stood right behind my and started to rub my erect cock. With one hand on my cock, and the other rubbing her clit the two of us reached orgasm within a minute. It was so incredibly sexy: we were both getting off on my massive muscles. The two of us immediately collapsed into bed, and with me spooning her went back to sleep. The next morning I awoke at my typical 6:00am, and left Katie sleeping there. I went to the kitchen and made my breakfast containing 4000 calories and 300 grams of protein. I made Katie some eggs and she awoke to the sun shining in and me walking in with breakfast in bed. Katie ate her breakfast and then started tearing up. “Oh, Katie, what’s wrong?” I asked. “Well it’s just, I’ve been feeling really down about my whole move to Toronto. I haven’t met anyone I like, all the guys I dated were such jerks and I started to wonder whether I should just move back home. But now, I meet you: the nicest, sexiest guy in the whole world and I almost feel like I’m in a dream and I don’t deserve you.” “Katie, there is only one girl like you in the whole city. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have met you. I’m the lucky one, any man would kill to be with such a beautiful, kind, funny girl as you.” The two of us embraced and even though I had plans to get to the gym, I couldn’t help but try to drag on my date with Katie for as long as possible. We agreed to meet back up in a couple days. For the first time in years, I had something else in my life to rival bodybuilding when it came my time and attention. My training was going great, and knowing that Katie was turned on by my muscles gave me a 6th gear of motivation that I never would have even thought was possible. She started to spend every night at my place. I apologetically explained that I couldn’t avoid my 3 hour daily workouts, or the almost endless eating and food preparation that my lifestyle required all of which reduced the amount of free time we could spend together. But rather than trying to get me to spend less time bodybuilding, Katie was immediately super supportive. Every night she asked me how my training went, whether I’d hit any new personal bests. She would help me prepare food, keenly asking about how I knew whether I was getting enough macronutrients each day. Every couple days we would shower together and she would do the honours of shaving my body hair off so that my physique was smooth and visible. And of course, every night before bed she would apply my oil and we would usually both come hard from the process of muscle worship. It was now April and Katie and I had spent every night in the last month together. In fact, every single moment that I was not at the gym, Ilya’s, or work, was spent with Katie. As much as I was in love with her, her love for me was even more passionate. She got a key to my place so that she could always be there the second I got home. She started coming grocery shopping with me and even did her own research on muscle building foods so she could help me come up with the best shopping list for growth. After one of our muscle worship sessions one night, we were both lying in bed getting ready to go to sleep. Katie was staring at me with her beautiful blue eyes. “Tell me” she said “what do you want in this life more than anything else? If you tell me first, I’ll tell you next.” “Ok” I agreed. “What I have wanted for as long as I can remember, is to be a bodybuilder. I want huge muscles, and I want to go up on stage and be judged on my incredible physique. I want people to stare at my massive body, and I want to be the strongest person at my gym. It seems like I’ve wanted this for so long, that I can’t imagine what I would do with my life if I wasn’t striving for this goal. Even when I was a skinny 15 year old, I felt like I was a bodybuilder stuck in a skinny kids body. Now that I’m well on my way to accomplishing my goal, I just want it more than ever. And besides that, I now want to get even bigger. If I reach my goal of 300lbs, then I’ll just want to get to 320 or 340. I dream of stopping at nothing to reach my growth goal, and every workout, every meal, every supplement, just makes me that much closer to what I want to achieve. I even take….” I trailed off and looked away from Katie. “Steven, I know” said Katie. “It’s okay, I know you probably take steroids to get as big as you do. But listen, I’m okay with it. You’re such a nice guy, they haven’t made you into a raging Douche bag, you are who you are. I admire the fact that you dedicate yourself so hard towards your goal. And can I now tell you what I want in life more than ever? I too want you to get as big as possible. I fantasize about being by your side as you grow bigger and bigger. I’ve even noticed that you’ve put on muscle in the last few weeks. I dream of helping you get as big as possible. And when you win your first competition I want to be the beautiful babe who gets to hug the champ when he walks off stage.” Katie was lightly rubbing her hands over my rock hard abs as she spoke. “Listen, I know we’ve only been dating for a month now, but would you consider letting me move in with you? I feel like that way I can be more supportive of your bodybuilding. I can prep meals for you when you’re gone, help you inject your gear, and when you’re ready to compete, I can help you with your posing. And what’s more, I had a great aunt who just died and left me a couple hundred grand inheritance. I’d like you to consider quitting your job and letting me support us financially so you can bodybuild fulltime.” This was all quite a lot to take it, but the reality was I was head over heels in love with Katie, and the thought of getting to see her more often as well as being able to concentrate full time on my growth sounded like a dream come true. I agreed, and we decided that Katie would move in the very next day. That morning I gave my boss my two weeks notice. I was becoming a full time bodybuilder.
  6. 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
  7. * Now Complete * This chapter will start with a brief excerpt from JP EPISODE 21: THE SMILE: the last part of that chapter that takes place in July 2005. Then I will extrapolate events from there for this chapter. As always, any parts of the JP story are reproduced with permission from the author, as I mentioned in Chapters 1 and 2. Also, as always: the illustrated version of the Chapter can be found here: http://seanspictures.webs.com/andrewmeetsjppart3.htm It took the rest of the morning, but JP and I soon returned to our normal routine. I went over to his house for our daily workout and then we went running in a nearby park. The whole world felt different now that I had come out to my mom. She may only have been one person, but somehow, the weight on my shoulders was far easier to carry. Not only that, but it gave me another person to talk to. Although it would be awkward at first, eventually I knew that she would always be there for me. ================================================================================ Once Matt and JP arrived at Burke Lake Park near JP's house, they found their new friends Andrew, Mike and Carrie waiting for them in the parking lot. "Nice truck Andrew," JP said, admiring the sleek lines of Andrew's blue Dodge Ram Quad Cab. "Where did you get it?" he asked, as he stepped forward to shake Andrew's hand. "Thanks man," Andrew said, shaking his hand. "My dad bought it for me on my 17th birthday almost a year ago. That was right around the time he got promoted to Executive Vice-President, or Chief Operating Officer, of Harrington's Sports Suppliers." "Wow Andrew, your dad is the second-in-command of a big sports company?" JP asked in astonishment. "Yeah man, he's rich," Andrew bragged, revealing a slight hint of snobbishness that his friends had never seen before. "But then, after looking at the Fairfax County website, I realized that being rich is normal around here." "Yeah, but did you see the car I drove here?" JP asked his big friend, pointing to the green GTO behind him. He narrowed his eyes at Andrew: disapproving of his snobby attitude and added, "I was given my brother's old car as a hand-me-down! My parents didn't buy a brand new truck for me like your dad did for you!" "Actually, my truck is four years old; my dad bought it used, and I pay him monthly for it," Andrew corrected him with a smug grin. When he saw JP's look of disapproval fade into an approving grin, he laughed and added, "Did you really think I was that snobby and elitist JP? I guess I fooled you after all, didn't I?" "Yeah you did man," JP admitted with a sheepish grin. "See, you're not the only genius around here," Andrew reminded him, crossing his huge muscular arms over his massive chest. "My parents raised me to work for everything I have, including this impressive body of mine." He noticed JP smirking and added, "Now, we came here to work out our bodies, not just our minds JP. Are you ready?" "Yeah Andrew; how good are you at running laps?" "I do alright," Andrew replied modestly, realizing that JP hadn't seen much of his running since he usually played Centre. "Why do you ask? I thought we came here to throw my football around." "We'll do that later, and we'll also throw around my Navy Frisbee after we go swimming in the lake," JP promised him. "But first, there are a few miles of trails that go around the lake and through the woods. Matt and I tried them a week ago and we got quite a good aerobic workout that day." "You got more than I did JP, since you kept running for two more hours after I ran out of breath," Matt reminded him with an irritated look. "Yeah, but now I've found someone who can keep up with me," JP said with a smirk, revealing a hint of his old cocky attitude. "Yeah, I should be able to keep up with you, thanks these long massive legs of mine," Andrew predicted with a cocky smirk. He turned around and asked, "Are you coming with us Mike and Carrie?" Carrie was about to answer, but her jaw dropped in astonishment as Andrew peeled off his tight t-shirt. JP and Matt stared at Andrew's massively muscled torso in awe and more than a little fear. Mike, on the other hand, being just as big and muscular as Andrew, merely grinned with pride at the awesome build his mentor possessed. "Yes, we're coming with you Andrew," Mike replied. He began to peel off his skintight t-shirt and added, "I think I'll follow your lead and take off my t-shirt as well." It took a lot of effort and care for Mike to peel off his t-shirt without ripping it, but he disguised the difficulty of the task by plastering a cocky smirk on his face. This was designed to make his friends think that he was taking his t-shirt off really slowly in order to show off his massive muscles. Once Mike got his t-shirt off, he said, "There, that feels better; I was getting too hot." He grinned at the double meaning in his words, as he noticed Carrie staring at him with lust in her eyes and closed his eyes in pleasure as a cool breeze blew against his skin. "Oh yeah, that feels so good," he moaned, rubbing his massive pecs and eight-pack abs. "Stop showing off Mike!" Andrew laughed, though he was disguising his disapproval of his best friend's cockiness. "You're not the only muscle god around here you know!" Mike opened his eyes, but the first thing he saw was Matt and JP staring at him with their mouths open. "What's the matter guys: scared of my guns?" he asked, with a cocky smirk. He flexed his massive 24 inch biceps and added, "You'd better be, because they certainly don't fire blanks!" Andrew laughed at his protege's silly joke, while JP and Matt's looks of fear turned slowly into small grins. "Don't be scared guys, even though this is the first time you've seen our massive muscles in full daylight," Andrew advised them. He stepped forward to lay a massive hand on JP's shoulder, who only kept himself from recoiling in fear to look brave for Matt's sake. He couldn't keep his eyes from widening at the cords of muscle and the massive pulsing veins in Andrew's huge forearm. "We're all friends here," Andrew assured him, seeing the fear in his new friend's eyes. "You have nothing to worry about JP." "I'm not worried Andrew," JP bluffed, though he knew that Andrew could see the fear in his eyes. Andrew nodded knowingly: realizing that JP needed to keep up a brave and fearless image for the benefit of his boyfriend Matt. "I'm actually glad that you're a lot bigger than me or even my brother Ryan. If he was here and saw how big you are, he'd never make a dumb comment to me again!" "Don't tell him you're friends with me JP; I want to surprise him with that fact when I go on a recruiting visit to Virginia Tech this fall," Andrew ordered him. "What makes you think you'll see my brother Ryan on your recruiting visit?" JP asked, as he took off his t-shirt. He grinned smugly at Matt's look of lust and Carrie's look of astonishment. "Take off your t-shirt Matt; show off the body that Chrissy thought was so hot yesterday." Matt complied with JP's order and was pleased when his boyfriend gave him a wink of approval. Mike stepped up to him and said, "You're pretty ripped man, even though you're only half my size. I bet you could have taken that arrogant jerk who was bugging Chrissy if JP hadn't been there." Matt grinned at Mike's attempt to cheer him up, knowing that he wasn't even in his boyfriend's league as far as size and strength. While Matt and Mike were chatting, Andrew was informing JP that his recruiting visits that summer would be hosted by Red-Shirt Freshman. "I'm sure Ryan will fill the same role this fall, which should give me the chance to let him know that I'm good friends with you," Andrew informed him. He let a smug grin appear on his face as he rubbed his massive bicep and added, "He won't be so eager to cause you any more trouble once he realizes that you have such a huge muscular friend." "I hope you're right Andrew," JP said, secretly worried that seeing how big and strong Andrew was would motivate Ryan to become bigger and stronger himself. "It would be great if you could be the catalyst to repair my relationship with my big brother." "He's not your big brother; I am JP," Andrew teased him with a big grin. "He's just your older brother, which gives you the youth advantage." JP grinned back at Andrew, grateful as always that his huge muscular friend always knew how to cheer him up. "I don't mean to interrupt your bromance Andrew," Carrie teased him. Andrew glared at her with a twinkle in his eye and Carrie smirked back at him. "But I think that unlike you guys, I'll leave my t-shirt on. I'll certainly enjoy the view of your muscular bodies though," she added, sneaking a lustful look at JP. "The only muscles you get to enjoy seeing are mine Carrie," Andrew warned her with an angry glare. He reached out with one massive hand and gently, but firmly, turned her head back towards him. "I hate repeating myself, but in case no one got the message last night: you're my girlfriend and no one else's! Have you got that Carrie?" He loosened his grip on her chin just enough for her to give him a frightened nod. Andrew released his grip on her and turned to glare at the other three guys. "Has everyone got that message now?" he growled with clenched fists. "Yes we have Andrew," Mike replied, once he realized that Matt and JP were to scared to speak. He only felt a little nervous around Andrew's fierce temper, since he knew that Andrew had never hurt him in anger. He had an idea to ease the sudden tension and asked, "Hey Andrew, what do you call chest muscles on a rough ocean?" "I'm not going to guess Mike, just tell us," Andrew sighed with a small grin, recognizing Mike's tactic that always soothed his bad temper. "Bouncing pecs," Mike replied with a big grin, as he bounced his own pecs to demonstrate. Everyone laughed and the last traces of anger faded from Andrew's face. "Good one Mike; my turn." Mike nodded at Andrew to go ahead as JP led the group to the start of the trail around the lake. "What do you call arms that are lethal weapons?" "I have no idea Andrew; why don't you tell us?" Mike goaded him. "Loaded guns," Andrew replied with a cocky smirk, flexing his massive biceps. Everyone laughed as JP led them in a brisk jog down the first leg of the trail. "Okay one more," Mike promised them. "What do you use to wash your clothes when there's no washing machine handy?" "The lake?" JP guessed, pointing to their left where they could see Burke Lake through the breaks in the trees. "Nope, you use washboard abs," Mike replied, massaging his ripped eight-pack. Everyone laughed once again, shaking their heads at the silly, but cocky, puns of Mike and Andrew. For their part, Andrew and Mike were glad that their jokes had put everyone at ease, especially since they had seen Andrew's bad temper up close a few minutes ago. Andrew and Mike let JP and Matt lead the way down the trail, while Carrie followed behind them. As they ran, Andrew tried to think of a way he could let JP and Matt know that he knew their secret. He realized that only Mike could keep up with him, but then he also realized that Mike and Matt had spent a lot of time together with Carrie the night before. So Andrew just had to come up with an excuse to get JP alone, and Matt's earlier comment about being left alone while JP ran for two more hours popped up in his head. So, once Matt gets tired, then Mike and Carrie will wait with him back near the cars for JP and myself, Andrew realized. Then I can see just how far JP can run, since he won't be holding himself back to keep Matt from feeling bad. "So, will we take the trail all the way around the lake JP?" Andrew asked. "If you can keep up with me Andrew," JP teased him. "I wouldn't worry about Andrew keeping up with you, but we won't be able to JP," Matt reminded him. "Well, I'm not slowing down for you Matt; I have to keep in shape for wrestling next year," JP reminded him with a frown. "If Matt and Carrie get tired, I'll go back with them to the main part of the park," Mike offered, not letting on that he, like Andrew, would be able to keep up with JP with no trouble. "Thanks man, I'd appreciate that," Andrew said gratefully, pleased that he would soon be able to speak to JP alone. "You keep them company like last night and if any jerks try to start anything with Carrie, all you'll have to do is stand up to scare them away." Mike grinned at that idea and Andrew added, "I'm trusting you to keep an eye on Carrie when I'm not around Mike, as long as you don't try anything with her!" "Don't worry Andrew, I have enough internal discipline to comply with your orders to leave her alone in a social sense," Mike assured his big friend. A scary look of anger appeared on his face as he added, "But if anyone tries anything with her, we'll see how they like some external discipline thanks to my huge muscles!" Hopefully they won't like it like Matt would, JP thought suddenly with a smirk on his face. As he jogged effortlessly through the woods with Andrew and Mike beside him, he thought about how lucky he was to be spending this summer with his friends. Too bad Ryan couldn't be here, he thought to himself with a pang of regret. But perhaps Andrew's idea about revealing his friendship with me if he sees Ryan this fall will help me get back my relationship with my true big brother. "Hey JP, who is that Nick guy you were talking about just before we met last night?" Andrew asked him suddenly. "He's Chrissy's brother; you know: the girl you were about to save from those college jerks until I stepped in," JP replied. "I don't know if I thanked you for that yet." "Yeah you did JP, right after you asked me if I wanted a piece of you," Andrew reminded him with a steely glare. "That wasn't very polite of you, considering I was ready to defend Chrissy from those two jerks before you got there." "Sorry about that Andrew; I guess my mind was just clouded by rage," JP apologized. "Yeah, deflected rage at your brother," Andrew snapped, still mad at JP's rudeness when they'd first met. "If you ever feel you want to take me on, I'm right here!" "No thanks Andrew; at least not for real," JP assured him. "Your neck's so thick I don't think I could get my arm around it! And even if I could, it looks so hard and muscular I'd have no luck trying to choke you out!" "Keep that in mind Big Guy, just in case you think you're all that and then some," Andrew reminded him with a cocky smirk. "Shut up Andrew!"" JP laughed, throwing a punch at his big friend. Andrew still had his face turned towards him and JP's fist accidentally made contact with Andrew's jaw with a loud smack. "OWWW!" JP yelled, shaking out his sore hand. "I think I hurt myself!" "I didn't feel a thing," Andrew bragged. "Was that your best shot?" he asked, as they stopped at one of the path junctions. "No man," JP replied, massaging his sore hand. "But this is!" He suddenly lunged at Andrew, trying to pull his head down to get him in a choke hold. It seemed to be working at first, but then Andrew grabbed JP by the legs and hoisted him over his shoulders, breaking JP's grip on his neck in the process. Then Andrew grinned and extended his arms, holding JP up above his head with no effort. "Hold on tight JP; up and down you go!" Andrew laughed, as he began effortlessly shoulder-pressing JP. "Let me know when you've had enough!" After a couple of minutes, JP said, "Okay, that's enough Andrew. Put me down please." "Sure man, since you asked me nicely," Andrew said agreeably. He let JP down to his shoulders and then lowered him gently down to the ground. "There you go Big Guy: I put you down. Are you happy now?" "Yeah I am Andrew; thanks," JP said gratefully, feeling embarrassed that Andrew had so thoroughly dominated him. "Hey JP, how much can you bench?" Andrew asked him. "350," JP immediately replied, though it didn't seem as impressive as it had earlier in the week. "Good, then you should be able to bench-press me," Andrew realized. "I only weigh 305 so it should be easy for you." JP chuckled at Andrew's nonchalant way of saying that he 'only' weighed 305 pounds. "How do you do that Andrew?" JP asked in wonder. "Do what JP?" Andrew asked, as they jogged down a side path to look for a patch of grass to perform the human bench-press. "How do you make me feel better with just a few words?" JP asked him seriously. "Ryan would have tossed me to the ground and then kicked me in the gut for good measure if he had me above his shoulders!" "I've had lots of practice JP, mentoring little guys like you," Andrew replied, missing JP's look of anger at being called little. "As for your brother, are you sure he'd fight dirty like that?" "You don't know him like I do Andrew; in fact, you've never even met him!" JP snapped. "So believe me when I tell you: if I ever get him in a chokehold, I won't let up until I choke him out!" "I believe you JP," Andrew said seriously, as they entered a small grassy clearing in the woods. As their friends followed them onto the grass, Andrew added, "Get the digital camera ready Mike: I think we're about to witness history!" "Are you sure about this Andrew; won't you find it embarrassing being bench-pressed by someone who you outweigh by over 100 pounds of solid muscle?" JP asked him seriously. "I'm trying to make you feel better by showing you how strong you really are, and how you have nothing to fear from me," Andrew assured him. He motioned JP to lie down and added, "As you don't tag me in the balls by accident, everything will be fine." Carrie burst out laughing and Andrew shot a quick glare at her to keep her quiet, so that JP wouldn't figure out that they knew about him and Matt. JP lay down on the grass and extended his arms. Andrew carefully positioned himself lengthwise so JP's hands were on his chest and thighs. "Okay JP: let's go," Andrew said. "How many do you think you can do?" "I'll go for five reps," JP replied, slowly lowering Andrew down to his chest. He raised his arms with some effort, slowly lifting Andrew up until his arms locked at full extension. "So far so good Andrew: let's go for two!" JP yelled in excitement. He bench-pressed Andrew four more times before he had to signal Andrew to stand up. "Whew! That was a great chest workout Andrew!" JP panted, accepting Andrew's outstretched hand which pulled him to his feet effortlessly. "I knew you could do it JP," Andrew congratulated him, slapping him gently on the shoulder. "Good job Big Guy." "Thanks Andrew," JP said, smiling gratefully up at his mentor. "Can we start running again?" "After you shoulder-press me JP, just to be sure that you can handle a big guy like me," Andrew replied. "You do know how to pick someone up in a Fireman's Carry, don't you?" "Yeah, my dad taught me," JP replied, screwing up his face in determination. He was nervous about shoulder-pressing over 300 pounds, but then he remembered that he had just bench-pressed that same amount: five times! And I have my whole body to help me this time, so it should be easy! he suddenly realized. "Bring it on Andrew: I'm ready!" "That's it Big Guy," Andrew said, stepping closer and bending down so that JP could grab his legs and free arm. "Let's see what you've got! Go for ten reps!" JP grabbed Andrew around the legs and slowly straightened up, getting Andrew squarely across his shoulders. Then he adjusted his grip and began shoulder-pressing Andrew up and down. He grinned as he performed the first five reps easily, noticing Mike and Matt taking his picture. The next five reps were more difficult, but JP just gritted his teeth in determination and forced himself through them. Then he carefully let Andrew back down to the ground again; panting and massaging his sore chest and shoulders. "Great job JP," Andrew congratulated him, shaking his hand instead of slapping his sore shoulders. "I knew you could do it!" JP grinned as he tried to catch his breath. Andrew motioned the others back to the trail and stepped closer to JP until he was looming over him. He bent down so that only JP could hear him and whispered, "Now you know that you can take on Ryan with no problem, so don't worry about him anymore JP." "Thanks Andrew, I owe you Big Guy," JP said gratefully, now that he had his breath back. As they jogged back onto the path, he added, "You're a really great mentor." "I've had lots of practice JP and I'd be glad to pass on some tips so that you'll be ready to mentor Nick in about six weeks," Andrew offered. "That would be great Andrew, because Nick won't be the only wrestling hopeful I'll be mentoring at wrestling camp next month," JP said gratefully. "Well, I do know how to mentor two guys at once: I did it with my teammates Ralph and Connor two years ago," Andrew said modestly. He smiled as he remembered developing his two proteges into star football players by Grade 11. "Since they will be the starting quarterback and wide receiver respectively this season, it seems I did alright training them for high school football. We won the District Championship last season and this season we're going to win the Provincial Title!" "Wow Andrew, that's really impressive," JP congratulated his huge friend. "What about Mike here? Did you train him as well?" "Yeah man," Andrew replied with a smug grin. "Tell him how small you were when I first started training you almost seven years ago Mike." "5 foot even and 80 pounds," Mike replied sheepishly, feeling embarrassed that he had ever been that small. "You were about the same size as Nick is now," JP realized, glad that Chrissy had told him her brother's stats. "And look at you now: 305 pounds of solid muscle!" "And I stand 6 foot 6, so I loom over you just like Andrew does," Mike chuckled. He lifted JP up by his waist, even as they were still jogging down the path. "I'm the big man in this group, and don't you forget it!" JP's eyes narrowed in anger and he was about to punch Mike in the face when Andrew said, "Put him down Mike; I let him shoulder-press me to make him feel better and you're ruining it by lifting him up like a rag doll!" Mike stopped jogging, set JP down and went to ruffle his hair, but JP knocked his arm away swiftly. "Don't you even think of trying to touch me without my permission man, or I'll rip your arm off!" he growled in fury. "Whoa JP, calm down!" Andrew urged him, clamping a massive hand on JP's sore shoulder to hold him back as he lunged at Mike. JP winced and Andrew switched his iron grip to his arm instead. "Sorry about that man, but don't start anything with Mike: he's just as strong as I am and he could wipe the floor with you!" JP glared at Andrew over his shoulder, realizing that all of Andrew's efforts to make him feel better had just been ruined. "I think it's time our two group separated now," Matt suddenly suggested. "Why don't I take Carrie and Mike back to the cars while you and JP run some more until he calms down Andrew." "Good idea Matt; see you soon I hope," Andrew said, smiling at him. Matt grinned back and led Mike and Carrie back down the trail, but not before Mike gave JP one last smirk over his shoulder. Andrew frowned and shook his head until Mike's smirk vanished and then turned around to see JP glaring at him with clenched fists. "Go ahead JP, punch me in the face again," Andrew sighed. "I deserve it for being too late to stop Mike from lifting you up." JP hesitated suddenly; no longer wanting to punch Andrew now that he had his permission and slightly afraid of making his huge friend angry. "No it's okay Andrew," JP assured him, letting out a huge sigh and un-clenching his fists. "It's kind of my fault too, not just Mike's. To me, he was acting just like Ryan and I projected my anger at Ryan onto him." "Yeah you did JP and it would not have been amusing if you had tried to rip his arm off," Andrew warned him. "Even if you got a grip on his arm, he would have just lifted you off the ground effortlessly and given you an F-Five or something." "Just like Brock Lesnar would," JP realized with sudden understanding. "You never told me that you were a wrestling fan Andrew." "You never asked, but I know some wrestling moves too," Andrew said soberly. He looked at his watch and added, "But we've gotten way off topic and while we're alone now, it didn't happen the way quite the way I wanted it to." "Why did you want to be alone with me Andrew?" JP asked, feeling slightly nervous now that he was suddenly alone in the woods with such a huge muscular guy. "Not for anything sinister JP, so don't worry," Andrew assured him with a gentle smile. JP let out a sigh of relief and the fear slowly left his face. "You don't have to act so tough all the time JP; I know you're scared of how huge and strong I am," Andrew said, letting the smile fade from his face. "Yes I am Andrew; you told me yesterday that you could bench 800 pounds!" JP shouted in astonishment. "Is that a one rep max or a working weight?" "It was a one rep max and that's the literal truth because I haven't been able to do it again," Andrew replied. As they began jogging down the path again, he added, "My working weight is about 700 pounds for five reps." "That's over twice your weight Andrew and four times mine!" JP shouted in astonishment. "That's why your arms are so big and muscular!" "Yeah I was really happy the day my pythons got bigger than the Hulkster's," Andrew laughed. He flexed a massive bicep and kissed it softly before saying, "These puppies are sick but they don't need a vet!" "But anyone who gets in their way is going to need a hospital!" JP predicted, laughing at the cocky smirk on Andrew's face. "Thanks JP, I wasn't sure how to finish that bicep pun," Andrew said gratefully. "No problem Big Guy," JP said, patting Andrew on the shoulder. "That's 'Huge Guy' to you, Little Man," Andrew growled in mock fury. When he saw JP's eyes narrow in anger, he laughed and assured him, "I was just kidding man: you've got to learn how to take a joke!" "I know that Andrew, but I was just reminded of Ryan once again," JP sighed in frustration. "You're obsessed with your brother JP, but there's someone else you should be thinking about instead of him," Andrew advised him, recognizing his opening. When JP looked at him questioningly, Andrew added, "I'm talking about Matt; it's obvious that you love him man." "Yeah, like a big brother, which Ryan should have been," JP stated, hoping that Andrew hadn't seen Matt staring at him longingly during the fireworks the night before. "He's really filled a void in my life." "Just like Carrie did for me when we fell in love," Andrew said, finally deciding to state the obvious. JP's jaw dropped and a look of panic suddenly appeared in his eyes. "Don't worry man, I'm not grossed out or anything; don't forget: my country legalized same-sex marriage two years ago," Andrew assured him. "It's not that Andrew, but thanks for not being weirded-out," JP said gratefully. "It's just that Matt came out to his mom this morning about him and me dating and though she had already figured it out, it was still really uncomfortable when Matt told her. She's the only one who knows; I haven't even come out to my parents yet." "And I can't imagine that you'll ever come out to Ryan," Andrew realized, unable to even imagine how violent Ryan's reaction would be if he found out that his little brother was gay. "My lips are sealed man; I won't tell anyone, because Carrie already figured it out." "Do you think now that Matt's come out to his mom, he's going to tell Mike?" JP asked with a worried look on his face. "I don't think so and Carrie won't either, since she waited until she was alone with me to tell me that she knew about you and Matt," Andrew assured him. "But you might want to take Matt aside later and let him know that Carrie and I know about you two," he added. "It's only fair to him." "That's a good idea Andrew; thanks for thinking of that," JP said gratefully. As they got close to the parking lot with their cars in it, he reached up to Andrew's massive shoulder and squeezed it gently. "You're a really great guy Andrew and I'm glad that you've agreed to be my Honorary Big Brother." "I'll always be here for you JP and even for your protégé Nick, once I get to meet him of course," Andrew promised him. "Once I get to meet him in mid-August, I'll introduce you to him when we meet again," JP promised him. As they jogged within view of their friends, he asked Andrew, "Have we talked enough for one afternoon Big Guy? Are you ready for some football and Frisbee now?" "Yeah man; I have my Miami football in my backpack and I think I see Matt holding your Navy Frisbee," Andrew replied. "But before we begin, I think you and Mike should apologize to each other, so that there won't be any more trouble between you two." "Good idea man," JP said, switching back into the cocky jock he pretended to be when he was in a crowd. He stepped right up to Mike, no longer intimidated by his huge size, and held out his hand. "I'm sorry I got so mad at you earlier Mike: I was just projecting angry thoughts about my brother Ryan onto you." "Apology accepted JP," Mike assured him, gripping JP's hand gently in his huge meaty paw. "I owe you an apology as well, for acting just like Ryan probably does." "He hasn't put his hands on me for years, but he does act superior to me, just like you did earlier," JP realized. "But I accept your apology Mike and I can tell that you're not embarrassed to apologize to someone you outweigh by over 100 pounds of solid muscle!" "130 pounds to be exact, but what's a few dozen pounds between friends?" Mike asked him with a cocky smirk. "Funny man!" JP laughed, taking his Navy Frisbee out of his bag and throwing it at Mike's head. His eyes widened as Mike caught it quickly, with just one hand, and then fired it quickly back at JP. JP had to do a cartwheel to catch it, but the force of the throw knocked him off his feet. Mike started laughing but then his eyes widened as JP quickly rolled through the fall and back to his feet. "Most impressive Big Guy," Mike commended him. "I can see why you're such a threat on the wrestling mat." "Yeah man," JP said with a cocky smirk. "You may have caught me off guard before, but just try to lift me off the ground again! Next time I'll be ready for you!" "I'm sure you will JP," Mike assured him with an encouraging grin. "I can see why you're a District Finalist and next season you'll win Districts and then the State Championship in high school wrestling!" JP grinned with gratitude as he threw the Navy Frisbee back to Mike and their friends smiled in relief: pleased that JP's obsession with his brother Ryan was slowly fading into the background, at least for the time being. * THIS CHAPTER IS NOW CONCLUDED * Hope you enjoyed, I mean LIKED, it. LOL (Seriously though, thank you for the three likes so far). Coming soon: - Andrew and his friends meet JP's parents and Matt's mom for supper. - Their parents discuss what kind of influence Andrew and his friends will be on their sons.
  8. 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. Here is chapter 2 of Steven's muscle building project. Again, I'm new at this so go easy on me! I really tried to focus on what life would be like for someone who achieves a truly massive size so I hope I paint a good picture of that fantasy coming true for our story's hero! Hope you enjoy. Chapter 2 Bliss. That was the only word I could use to describe my new life as a fulltime bodybuilder. Every day I got closer and closer to reaching my goal of becoming a mass monster, and I had found the most amazing girl in the world to call my girlfriend. Not only my girlfriend, but my number one fan, biggest support, personal trainer, financier and personal chef all in one! Our lives revolved around one thing and one thing only: making me bigger. The weeks ticked by and the two of us spent no time with anyone except each other, and of course Ilya when I went for my weekly injections. Not having to go to work and being able to concentrate only on bodybuilding had made my progress even more rapid. The more mass I put on, the more turned on Katie became by my muscles, and that in turn made her wish for me to become even bigger! Besides our nightly oilings/muscle worship sessions, Katie had requested that I pose for her at least once if not twice per day. I was all to happy to comply, as nothing got me off more than seeing her get turned on by my mass. I’d strip down naked and apply some lotion so my skin would shine, then while she lay on the bed rubbing her clit I’d go through a posing routine as if I was on stage at the Olympia. Not only was this a sexual exploit, but it had the added bonus of helping me to perfect my posing routine. It never took her more than a couple of minutes before the sight of my muscles drove her to orgasm. By the time she came, I’d be rock hard and all it took was a couple quick strokes of my own to bring me to an orgasm of my own. We’d then clean up, and get back to the business of making me bigger. June came, and one sunny evening after I’d eaten and trained and eaten some more, we decided to pretend we were normal people and did what normal people do: got a coffee and went for a walk by the waterfront. I was wearing the biggest jeans and T-shirt that I owned but they were being stretched to the limit by my size. I was bursting out of the T-shirt in every way imaginable, and my jeans looked like they were painted on. In fact, if I had attempted a squat in them, they would surely have ripped to shreds then and there. Lets just say, it wasn’t exactly hard to attract attention walking around like this. Katie and I noticed that virtually everyone, man or woman, who walked by turned their heads and stared. As the evening sun shone down on the glistening lake front, I began to notice dozens of people starting to take pictures of me. So I decided to put on a little show, and brought my arms up into a double biceps pose, then turned around to show off my incredibly wide back. Smart phones could be heard snapping photos all around me. I could tell Katie was incredibly turned on, and so was I. When the sun set, it was time to get back home for another feed, so off we rushed. As I was downing my 5 plates of supper, Katie did some quick social media searches to see if anyone had posted their photos of me. It turned out that I had become somewhat of a local phenomenon. Hundreds of people had posted pictures of me under hashtags like #muscle, #bodybuilder, #Torontomuscle, and #sexy. Katie grinned, knowing that I had made it into a couple hundred people’s so called “spank bank” but knowing that she had me all to herself. For my part, I felt validated knowing I was becoming a muscle sculpture that the world could gaze upon in wonder. “That was fun, I liked seeing everyone react to you. I don’t think most of them had ever seen anything like it. Let’s get you even bigger in secret, then next time do another reveal where you really blow their minds.” “Oh that sounds like fun” I replied. “in that case, why don’t you get me another plate of steak?” Katie smirked, then dutifully dished me up another 600grams of steak which she insisted on cutting up and sensually feeding to me one muscle building forkful at a time. The next day, I had my appointment with Ilya. He’d been on vacation for all of May so although I still received my injections (he’d given Katie instructions on how to inject me at home), we hadn’t performed any body size measurements in a month. So at my first appointment in early June, I was eager to see how I’d progressed. The moment I walked in the door, his mouth dropped open wide. “Steven, you’re massive!” he proclaimed. “It’s only been a month, how could you have put on so much size?” Grinning, I told him “when I dream of something, I really put my mind to it. Besides, I’m bodybuilding fulltime now and Katie has been a great support, not to mention motivator. But come on, you’re making me blush, I can’t be THAT much bigger, like you said it’s only been a month.” Ilya rushed me to his physicians weigh scale. When the scale was finally balanced, I glanced down to see where I was at. 285 it read. I weighed Two Hundred and Eighty-five Pounds! I had put on 105 pounds of muscle since I’d moved to Toronto, and 72 pounds in the 4 months since February! No wonder I’d gotten so many stares from everyone out in public the night before, I was now well and truly a world class bodybuilder. My other stats were just as impressive: 21” biceps, 4.5% bodyfat, 29”quads, 30” waist. “Steven, there’s really no denying it. If this progress continues, within a few more months you will have left the rest of humanity in the dust. Are you sure you want to continue?” “More than ever. I am becoming the man I was born to be. I want to become a freak, the likes of which have never been seen before!” I answered confidently. Smiling, Ilya replied “Okay, okay, yes, yes, yes. Of course. I simply wanted to give you some insight into how much progress you’ve made so far. But if you wish to continue, I too am eager to see how much bigger you can become. So let’s get you your injection so you can get out of here and get back to training, yes?” I was on cloud nine for the rest of that day. At this rate, by the end of June, I would have reached my original goal of 300 pounds. Which meant it was time to set my sights higher. Much higher. I trained for my customary 3 and a half hours, then got home to the sight of my lover cooking me dinner in her lace bra and thong. “Hey baby, get those muscles over to the table and get this food in you” she playfully told me. “Listen, Katie, I’ve got some news. You know how everyone was staring at me yesterday, do you know why?” “Well because you’re a muscle stud, that’s why. Is that what you were getting at?” Katie replied. “Yeah, but I don’t think we realized just HOW BIG I’ve become. We’ve been in our own little world for the last two months, and without realizing it I’ve hit 285 pounds!” Katie’s eyes went wide for a second. “Really? Wow… Soooo” she trailed off and then looked away. “What is it baby? What’s wrong?” I asked. “Well it’s just, your original goal was to hit 300 pounds, and you’re now only 15 pounds away. So at this rate, you’ll be all done in a couple weeks. And it’s just that, I’ve really enjoyed our journey so far. Me helping you train, and eat, and pose has been the most rewarding, most sexually gratifying experience of my life. And not only that, but I just LOVE spending time with you, you’re a great companion and having this goal to work towards has been the centrepiece of our relationship since we started dating. Without it, I don’t know what life would be like… Plus if I’m honest, as much as I love to worship and feel up your muscles, what REALLY turns me on isn’t what you look like today, but imagining what you’ll look like 6 months from now: even more impossibly huge, more ripped, leaner, more freaky! Without that, I’ll still love you, but my life will feel somewhat… diminished. But I know I have no right no force my desires on you, it’s your body, you should do with it what you feel is right.” By now, I was smiling warmly. I touched Katie’s cheek, and she turned to face me once again. “Katie. I don’t think you have to worry about a thing. 300 pounds was only my goal when I was just starting out. That was when I thought I’d have to fight tooth and nail to reach it, but now that I have you and Ilya helping me out, I think it’s time I dream bigger. I think it’s time WE dream bigger. I have some ideas of my own, but just how big do YOU want me to get? Because I have some deep, dark desires, and if you want me to, I can unleash them. But in order to go down that road, I want to know I’ll have you by my side the whole time. Because if I decide to truly explore my desires, I will have achieved a look and size that no one else has even come close to.” I was still holding Katie’s cheek in my hand, and as I said this I felt her shudder. She smiled mischievously. “Steven, I have an active imagination, and my deep dark desires have been unleashed ever since the first time I saw you. There is no limit to how big I want you to get. The day that moving becomes virtually impossible for you, and you can no longer fuck me, then we can start to consider stopping your growth, but until then I say the bigger the better.” “Well okay then. All this talk has made me crave getting even bigger. How about you come with me to the gym and I’ll go do another workout. I can feel my muscles craving to be pushed to the limit. I guess 3 and a half hours of weight training per day isn’t enough.” I led Katie by the hand and off we went, back to the gym. There was one thing weighing me down, however. I hadn’t seen my family back home since Christmas, and I’d put on about 85 pounds of muscle since then. My physique would be unrecognizable to them. Not only that, but Katie and I truly intended to push my growth to the limit in the months to come. I figured it was now or never to introduce Katie to my family, and show them the new me. Hopefully their freak out would be short lived, and I could tell them to expect more growth in the future. So at the end of June, with me weighing just under 300 pounds we booked 3 plane tickets back to my hometown. 1 ticket for Katie, and 2 for me. I didn’t really fit in a single seat anymore. On the flight, we came up with a rousing speech to give to my parents. It was half truth, half fiction. All intended to reduce their freak-out. I was going to tell them that my Window Washing job was incredibly physical and I had started to put on size just from the hard labour. Realizing that I had loved the idea of getting stronger I’d joined a gym and found I was a natural at weight training. At which point a scientist who saw me at the gym approached me and asked me to join a research study aimed at determining the maximum human potential with the goal of using my results to provide the medical field with potential medical breakthroughs in the future. And his treatments were why I had put on so much size. I would say that I wasn’t sure at first about getting bigger, but me and Katie had come to terms with it knowing that I was helping to find new medical breakthroughs that could help others in the future. We would neglect to tell them that in fact Katie and I were muscle crazed addicts, and that this whole venture had been my only reason for moving away. That I’d dreamed of this for years prior, and that Ilya’s treatments were accomplishing only one thing: growth. True though, I WAS a natural at weight training, and I WAS well on my way to determining the maximum human potential. And of course, I HAD been a Window Washer, but we’d leave out the fact that I had left my job a couple months before. When we met my parents, the meeting went as expected. Their jaws dropped, and they asked me a million questions. It was clear they disapproved. They didn’t even acknowledge Katie at first, they were so focused on my look. Katie smiled, and stepped away to go get our bags. I gave my fictitious explanation speech to my parents, and they warmed up a little bit. When Katie came back with our luggage, they greeted her warmly and apologized for not introducing themselves. Katie was warm, and bubbly and they took to her immediately. In fact, she melted their hearts with kindness and after a couple of days I think they were so happy to see me with a nice girl like Katie, they didn’t really care what else was going on in my life. After a 4 day visit (any longer and I feared that I’d start losing muscle. I couldn’t eat more than 7000 calories a day or go to the gym for more than 2 hours without arousing my family’s suspicion) we were back at the airport to fly home. I’d gotten a monkey off my back, introducing my family to the “new” me, and I had vaguely suggested that I “might” look a “little bigger” the next time they see me, but it wouldn’t be anything drastic. That was an out and out lie, but hey, memories can be blurry and perhaps the next time they saw me they’d find some way to justify it by saying “well I guess he was just bigger than we remembered him being.” When we got home, we decided to come up with a new “temporary goal” for us to work towards. I say “us” because lets face it, Katie was as invested in my growth as I was at this point. She asked me who was my IFBB idol. I mentioned that back when I was dreaming about becoming a bodybuilder, I really wanted to look like Gunter Schlierkamp. We pulled up his stats and at his peak he was 6’1”, 300 pounds when competition lean. This gave him an FFMI of 38. Using an FFMI calculator we plugged in my height to see what I’d need to weigh to look like him. The answer was 325 pounds! I was only 25 pounds away from being just as big as one of the biggest pro bodybuilders of all time! It only took until August 1 to reach my goal. I had now accomplished my lifelong dream: I was an ABSOLUTELY MASSIVE human, who could walk on stage and compete with the top bodybuilders in the world. And so, we revised our goal upwards: 400 pounds sounded like a nice round number. And when we reached that we would reward ourselves with two things: a trip, and entering me into a bodybuilding show. In order to keep the growth coming, Katie had to increase my calorie intake from 15,000 to 20,000 per day. 15,000 was simply what was required to MAINTAIN my current size. My muscles craved protein, and with every meal I could almost sense the food going straight to my muscles. We had to make some changes in our lifestyle to accommodate my size too. I no longer fit in the shower in our condo. Well, I fit, but there was no way for me to turn around, and since I took up so much room Katie couldn’t fit in there anymore to help wash or shave me. So she worked out an agreement where we would get access to my gym after hours and so after I was done working out, she would accompany me to the large 4 person shower where we’d get clean. I also no longer fit into my VW golf. The trusty steed had served me while so far, but now when we I got in, the suspension immediately bottomed out and the little car tilted to one side. Plus I was so wide I couldn’t really move my arms to shift gears or turn the steering wheel. So Katie got us a minivan. Seriously! She was now the designated driver, while I would take up the whole middle bench seat. This had the added bonus that now that I was no longer driving I could spend the time commuting to and from the gym eating to feed my muscles. None of the clothes I owned fit me anymore. To be honest, I’d actually gone and gotten a whole new set of clothes back when I was in the 260 pound range but now all of THOSE clothes were too small too. It didn’t really make sense to go and constantly buy new clothes that I’d soon grow out of, so I didn’t. I simply wore XXXL sweat pants and sweat shirts when I was out and about (which was basically only going to Ilya’s and to the gym anyways). And since I now worked out at the gym after hours, I took to wearing only a pair of lycra 4” inseam workout shorts. We had to go get a custom bed made because I was so heavy and wide for our King bed, that Katie just always rolled into me at night. Not that she didn’t want to spend the night cuddled in tight to my rippling mass, but there was starting to be a serious risk of our bed collapsing. So we had a custom mattress made that was 3 feet wider, with a bed frame made of 4x4 Douglas fir. By the 1 year anniversary of me starting my muscle building journey, I weighed 350 pounds. An increase of 170 pounds. It took until mid October to hit 400 pounds, and so Katie and I rewarded ourselves by booking our vacation. First we searched for somewhere warm that was hosting a bodybuilding contest. Having found one being hosted on the Luxurious Island of St Barts in the Caribbean the next weekend we then booked flights and hotels on the Island. “I’m going to have to do some shopping, I have nothing to wear for this vacation!” I complained to Katie a few days before we were ready to leave. “Well how about you let me take care of that? You need to focus on training and getting your posing routine ready for the competition. I’ll go out and find you a new wardrobe.” She was right, I had lots to do, so I agreed to let her do my packing for me. Travelling to the airport it was chilly, so I wore my customary XXXL sweat suit. Boarding the plane was quite a debacle as I had to stand sideways in order to fit through the narrow door to board the plane. I then had to shuffle sideways down the centre aisle leading to our seats in the back since when I tried to walk straight my arms, and my quads would get stuck between the seats on either side. We got settled in our seats, but shortly afterwards a flight attendant came to speak to me and said that the pilots had seen me boarding the plane and were worried that all my weight situated so far back would throw the planes centre of balance off, so they needed me to move further up to seats over the wings. I don’t know if I’ve even blushed so much: I was so big that I was causing a 737 to be thrown off balance! We arrived and I was anxious to get changed, since I was still wearing a sweat suit and we were now in the 30 degree heat. “Just wait until we get to the hotel, baby” she told me. Of course, Katie was wearing a sexy sun dress that clung tightly to her incredible figure. But I relented, and looking like a sweaty mess, we finally arrived in our room. “I didn’t want anyone to see how big you were. The competition is tomorrow and I want to take the place by storm! Imagine the gasps we’ll hear when you walk out on stage. No one will have seen anything like you! That’s why you need to keep wearing sweats until after the show. And then, I’ve got a whole new wardrobe for you. See look:” Katie opened up my suitcase. I laughed and then realized I should have expected something like this when I agreed to let Katie pack for me. There weren’t any normal clothes at all. Certainly no pants, and no shirts either. Zero. What WAS in there was dozens of pairs posing trunks, speedos, and short square cut swimsuits, in every colour and fabric imaginable. “Katie, don’t get me wrong I would love to wear all this, but don’t you think I’ll need to wear some fancy clothes when we go out? I can’t wear this skimpy stuff ALL DAY!” Katie was expecting that comment, so she knew exactly what to say to get me on her side “Steven, baby, after tomorrow, your body is going to be the only thing people on this Island are talking about. You will be performing a public service by putting it on display for them. I guarantee, you will look so natural in your posing trunks that you won’t want to wear anything else! And besides, it’s the French Caribbean: everybody wears skimpy swimsuits down here. Look, I brought thong bikins to wear myself!” She did have a point. And besides, there was something I hadn’t told Katie quite yet: I actually had quite a fetish for wearing posing suits. Half of the reason why I wanted to get into bodybuilding was so I could put myself up on stage wearing only the skimpiest, tightest, shiniest most glute hugging swimsuits imaginable. And now that I had the body of my dreams, it certainly made sense to indulge myself in this respect as well. “You sure got me a good selection. Are they all custom made?” Katie nodded. “Here let’s hang them all up.” The entire closet was filled with a colourful array of tiny swimsuits, and our hotel room was permeated with that new lycra smell. “Since you can’t go out in public just yet, we better order you room service.” Katie dialled the front desk “yes, in room 1222 we need 9 orders of your 3 egg breakfast omelette please.” I couldn’t help but laugh, they probably thought we were an entire family! No, just one massive bodybuilder! We picked out my posing suit for the next day. It was shiny red lycra. It was what you would call a “Brazil cut” covering only about half of my glutes, with minimal coverage in the front and ½” sides. It was definitely the smallest suit I could wear while still remaining decent. The next morning I pulled on my posing trunks. Katie applied bikini bite glue to keep my package in the ludicrously small front, then there was a knock on the door. She had hired someone to come to our room to apply my pro tan. Our plan was to arrive at the competition minutes before I was set to go on stage so that I could really surprise the competitors and the crowd. I was transformed into a bronzed god with the pro tan, and then Katie performed one final oiling so that I shone brilliantly. I then put my sweat suit back on and we headed to the auditorium.
  10. Inspired by a roleplay by Scriptboy and Biggestsub and adapted for the hetero crowd with permission... Jake: *My name is Jake. I‘m a short but buff teen. Age 18, I‘m 5-ft-8 inches tall, in high school, grade 12. I was visiting my aunt on a Saturday afternoon using my bus pass riding the public bus. As usual, I get on the bus wearing my khaki shorts, tank top and my tennis shoes, revealing my big, bulging biceps, by thick pecs and my large, wide quads and bulging calves on the back of my legs. Most seats on the bus are taken so I decide to take the empty seat next to a high school age girl.... Tyla: I‘m Tyla. I‘m a skinny late teen. I am 19, and almost 5‘9, and I get teased for not having developed as much yet as the other girls my age. Riding home from tutoring a kid from school, I notice a huge muscle stud get on the bus. My eyes go wide as he scans the rows to find an empty seat, finding the one next to me in the very back. I am so focused on his huge muscles he obviously loves to show off, I only notice his face when he‘s really close. He looks young, maybe as young as me even! Wow, I think, he must be twice my weight. I giggle happily when you sit down next to me. Jake: So, I sit down next to this girl, who seems about my height. I guess she’s older than me. But I’m so freaking clumsy, my shoulder bumps against hers. It's one of the reasons that I haven't had much luck with girls. I've always been clumsy and since I was young, convinced myself that I wouldn't be good enough for any girl. When I was younger they wanted no part of clumsy Jake. So I dedicated myself to my own body instead and to working out. I'm still waiting for my growth spurt though. “Uhh… s-s-sorry… I’m kinda… wide…. Sorry!” I apologize for bumping against her. These stupid narrow bus seats are so small for a big guy like me. Urg! But, she keeps on looking at me, it’s making me blush a little. She’s kinda cute, though…. Tyla: “No problem…“ I mutter as my face rubs against those huge shoulders. They‘re hard and warm, much bigger than the guys‘ I've seen on my college's football team. He must be very strong, I think to myself. I try to be inconspicuous while checking out this huge guy next to me, looking at his thick plates of chest muscles, his rounded biceps, and his thick forearms. His thighs are huge, so vast, they rub against my thin ones. I gulp, thinking how much power they must have in them. Jake: I eventually raise up my left hand just to wipe a flock of my long hair out of my eyes…. When am I gonna get that haircut I keep on putting off? As I raise up my arm, I unintentionally flex my very large bicep, which rubs against the girl's arm…. I feel her move a bit…. Oh darn, I hope I didn’t scare the poor girl…. “Uhh… s-s-sorry… I hope I didn’t scare ya!” *I say quietly. “Didn’t mean to startle you…” Tyla: I look at the guy‘s blond locks. He‘s really dreamy. When he raises his arm I find it hard to decide whether to look at his perfect hair or his huge guns. So when he flicks his arm, he accidentally rubs it in my face. I feel like in heaven, getting to see and experience that muscle up close. “Um, no problem…“ I reply. “You‘re a big guy, I have to say.“ I look him up and down. “Must be awesome being so thick and massive.” Jake: “It’s cool, most of the time… Except on planes, trains and… buses!” *I groan. “And, meeting new people is tricky. I’m really a nice guy but often people don’t want to talk to a muscle guy, you know? But, thanks for breaking the ice! My name’s Jake, by the way!” *I say as I reach out with my right hand for a handshake… Uhhh I hope I didn’t TOTALLY freak out the poor girl. Either she accepts or he has a heart attack…. Please talk to me…. Tyla: I stare at the hand, which is much larger than mine. Slowly I raise my own, watching it disappear in your huge paw as you shake it. Your grip is tight, but still gentle, and I tingle as you bid me hello. “Hey… ungh… Jake, I‘m Tyla.” I smile when you let go of my hand and I want it back as soon as it's gone. “I don‘t mind if you sit this close. I get it. You need the room.” I playfully punch your rock solid shoulder. ”Also, I don‘t often get to see muscles as awesome as yours up close, so it‘s fun for me too!“ I hope that wasn‘t too revealing. But Jake does look amazing! Jake: “Aww, thank you so much, Tyla! Tell you what…” *I say as I look at the window at your side… “I think we’re getting close to Northwood mall… I got lots of free time! Wanna get off here and go to the yogurt shop? It’s next to the gym, a sports store and a few other shops I like to visit in that strip mall! I’ll treat you to a cup of yogurt! We’ll call it a date, okay?” *I say to you with a wink and a big grin on my face. You can tell I’m starting to LIKE you! Tyla: Before I can reply – my answer was obviously going to be yes – you stand up and take me by my arm. Your thick hand easily encircles my upper arm, slightly squishing it as you make your way to the front, easily guiding me along. Before I know it we have gotten off the bus and your hand moves down to hold mine. I feel butterflies in my stomach as I look at the extremely gorgeous and incredibly cute muscle stud holding my hand. He must be the biggest guy in his school, and he already has taken a liking to me. This must be my lucky day! Jake: “Here, Tyla…. Here is an empty cup…” I say as I hand you an empty plastic cup before we walk past the yogurt dispensing machines. I pick from three different flavors and then I sprinkle peanuts and crushed chocolate all over mine. I wait for you to get your yogurt and then I pay with the cash in my pocket before we both sit down, sitting opposite each other at a table in the back corner. I grab spoons and napkins as we sit and talk. “So…. What grade are you in, Tyla? And, why do you like muscle guys?” Tyla: You take about four times as much yogurt as me. Makes sense, those muscles need to be fed. The way your huge body is placed, my own little one is completely blocked from view. Massive shoulders and thick arms obscure me from the rest of the yogurt shop. “Um I‘m in my first year at college…“ I begin. “So you must be a…“ I look at your humongous body. What muscles. It is amazing. Weird that you would take an interest in me. “Um, a frreshman in college too?” Jake: “Wow! You’re in college? Really? Wwowww… I’m just in high school… You are so awesome! You must be so smart!” *I smile at you. “So, what is it like in college? You must see lots of guys even bigger than me?” *I ask you out of curiosity as I spoon more yogurt out of the cup and eat it quickly. Then I look up at you and watch you eat with a grin on my face. Tyla: “What?“ I exclaim as I stare at your pumped arms and thick pecs. “How can you be in high school? You‘re huge!“ I stare at you, watching your biceps flex even when you‘re just eating with the spoon. “Nobody at my school is your size! The guys on the football team are smaller than you!“ You giggle as I tell you this. “They‘re taller, yes, but you‘re getting there,“ I add, smiling. Jake: “Awww you make me laugh when you tell me that I’m bigger than the guys on the high school football team! That is funny!” *I smile at you. “So, why do you like big muscles? Do you just like strong guys?” *I ask you out of curiosity. Tyla: “Well… I love big muscles… and muscle guys…“ I admit, sheepishly. I never said that to anyone but your earnest smile has me put my guard down. “You are so huge… and cute…“ I feel myself blush and quickly return to my little portion of yogurt. Jake: “Aww, thank you so much, Tyla! I always wanted to have a girlfriend who was older than me! That is awesome! Say…” *I say as I lean forward so I whisper at you… “Would you like to be my girlfriend? I’m available cause you're in college and I only date older girls… so you qualify!” *I whisper at you. “Then, I can ask you for help if I need tutoring, right? You can always rub my muscles too, okay?” Tyla: Wow, he is forward. We just met! “Um… I… uh…“ You don‘t wait for my answer. Your thick hands reach over and pull my chair right next to yours. Your massive arm wraps around me, holding my skinny body to your massive one. I can feel your muscles through your tank as you lean into me, cuddling me. “Uh, sure, Jake. But shouldn‘t we get to know each other better?“ Jake: “Sure… Oh by the way…” *I get my cell phone and I ask you for yours…. I add you and I send you a text message… I finish my yogurt and I get up and I patiently wait for you… “I know we just met but that’s okay… I like you a lot, Tyla!” *I grin as I hold open the door…. “Wanna check out the sports store next door?” *I suggest to you. Tyla: “Yeah, let‘s,“ I smile down at you. Standing up, it‘s unbelievable I am actually taller than you – barely an inch though. With your huge body, it feels like you are bigger than any boy I have ever met. You most likely are, I think to myself as I steal a glance at your shorts. We enter the sports store and you grab my hand again. Excitedly pointing at the equipment they have there, you pull me around the place without effort, guiding me in different directions multiple times. You giggle as you tell me about the different weights and supplements they have, as well as the gym clothes you constantly need as you grow so quickly. Jake: “Hey, Tyla! Here are some dumbbells…. Check this out!” *I pick up a 50-pound dumbbell with my right arm and I lift it up, flexing my arm and forcing a HUGE bicep to pop up on my arm…. “Wanna feel my arm?” I ask you with a smile… Tyla: At first I hesitate, not wanting to show you how overcome I am with desire. I rush over to you and practically throw myself on your arm. “Wow…“ I mutter, rubbing your huge guns. Your biceps rise up dramatically from your arms, forming solid balls of muscle. My little hands can‘t encompass them, not alone or together. Your triceps are massive, arching far south. All of it is rock hard, completely impossible to dent. Your skin is hot and only a paper thin cover over the swelling brawn underneath. “Wow,“ I repeat. Jake: “Do you like it?” *I ask you eagerly as I lift up the dumbbell and then lower it again, pumping the muscle and making it even harder so that a thick vein runs over the muscle…. The bicep is hard as a bowling ball…. My forearm is thicker than a bowling pin…. “Just rub your hand over it, it will bring us good luck, Tyla!” *I smile as you rub it with your soft hands. Tyla: I keep rubbing it, harder and faster. I can‘t believe the size and solidity of the arm I am holding. I let out a moan, then shut my mouth quickly. I hope I didn‘t creep you out, but you keep smiling and offer me your other arm to feel. I touch it just before, fondling the pumped muscle as you work it. “You are incredible, Jake. So big, so strong. I love your body.“ Jake: “Wow! I like you, Tyla!” *I grin as I set the dumbbell down. Then, before you can react, I reach over and gently place my hands under your armpits. Then, in a flash, I lift up your entire body until your feet are dangling six inches off the floor. I look up and I grin at you. “Wow, you’re really light! But… you’re also really cute!” *I smile as I pull you close and I plant a kiss on your lips… You can’t move at all because I’m holding you suspended in the air…. “You like this?” *I smile as I look up at you…. Tyla: I can feel the butterflies inside my stomach while you lift me, and even more so when you kiss me. “Yes,“ I reply, my voice only a whisper. “I like it. I really do.“ You smile and give me another kiss, this one longer than the one before. Your lips are soft and thick, perfect for kissing. I know mine are a bit thin, so yours envelop mine easily, just like everything about you does. I rub your arms, feeling their pump as you hold me up, hoping I don't pass out in your arms. Jake: *As I’m holding you up I notice how my pecs are just MASSIVE…. “Now is a good time to rub my pecs…. They really need attention!” *I say to you as you reach down with your arms and start to rub my bulging rock hard chest…. “I hope you’re enjoying the view from up there, Tyla!” *I grin at you shyly… Tyla: I can‘t reply as I am too enamored with your huge chest. A pair of thick muscle pecs protrude from your middle, each distinctly defined, and packed with dozens of pounds of muscle. I have more thick brawn under my two small hands, than you are holding in my entire body as you keep me floating above the ground. “I… uh, I love the view. But maybe the view of you and me together this way is a bit too much for a public sports store, Jake…“ Jake: “Ohh… yes… I’m sorry…. You’re right…” I say, feeling a little embarrassed… “I get carried away when I meet a cute girl who gives me a chance to show off…. It doesn’t happen often with the girls in high school… I’m really, REALLY sorry…” *I say shyly as I gently set you down and let you go. “You okay?” *I ask you, hoping I didn’t hurt your feelings. Tyla: “It‘s okay,“ I smile down at you. I wrap my thin arms around your wide body and give you a hug, then a little kiss on your forehead. I can see you blush as I take your hand in mine for a change and let you guide us through the rest of the store. We arrive at the clothes section and you marvel at all the nice outfits you could wear to the gym. “Would you try some of them on for me?“ I smile and give your hand a soft squeeze. Jake: “Yeah! See any cool looking shirts or tank tops which would look good on me?” *I say to you as we browse the racks and the shelves. *I wander around the men’s section as I follow you, and I look at everything you look at. I nod as you pick up shirts and tank tops. Tyla: I pick out a tank top printed like the U.S. flag – I hold it out to you so you take it from me. You check it then hand it back to me. “This is a large,“ you explain. “I need an X-X-X…“ “I know,” I interrupt and hand you back the tank that is way too small for you. With a wink I lean in and give you a kiss on your cheek. I head for the swimsuit section, getting excited about finding something for you to try on, while you run into one of the changing stalls. Jake: I go into the dressing room and I remove my old tank and I put on the one you picked out. It is smaller than I usually wear be it looks great! I run out of the dressing room and I look for you. Several other people stare at me since my muscles are just BULGING everywhere. “Hey Tyla… TYLA!” I shout as I look for you. Then, I spot you and I flex BOTH biceps wearing the new tanktop, showing off my MONSTER biceps in an outrageous flex which sends several other people gasping out loud. Tyla: I turn, seeing you show off proudly for me and the entire store. The tank is nearly painted on you, deliberately several sizes too small. Even from afar I can make out your definition through the fabric – your abs, your pec cleavage, everything. I walk over to you, wanting to see you up close. Your muscles look even bigger, bulging out of the skimpy tank. You should dress like that every day, I think, but then realize you‘d rip out of shirts on daily basis. Jake: “You have amazing taste, Tyla! I feel like a superhero in this thing!” *I smile as I lower my arms. “Should I get it?” *I ask you. “I’ll wear it just for you!” *I grin at you as I turn sideways. I flex my big arm again and I make my bicep pop out. “Looking good?” *I ask you, looking at you like an innocent little boy. Tyla: I can barely speak, seeing you pose for me in the middle of the store. That image will be burned in my brain forever, and I will definitely use it when I get home and need to release all this pent up stimulation. “Yes!“ I squeak, my voice shrill and without control. I reach to your collar and tear off the price tag, heading straight to the counter. I also bring along a tight pair of swimming trunks to buy without showing you. They cost most of the pocket money I have on me, but they are definitely worth it. “Thank you,“ you purr happily as you hook your thick arm into mine and give me a kiss on my cheek. Jake: “You don’t have to pay for it… I got my mom’s debit card…. But… I appreciate it…. I guess I need to pay you back, huh?” I whisper as I walk towards the door. I open the door and something funny happens. As I walk straight through the door, both my shoulders get STUCK in the doorframe, on BOTH sides. “Aww…. Darn it…. Stupid, narrow door!” *I groan as I back out and go back in the store. Then, I turn SIDEWAYS and shuffle through the door. You look on in amazement as it dawns on you that my shoulders are too WIDE for the doorframe. I squeeze through the door and grumble as I turn around and wait for you. “Small wimpy door!” *I pout…. Tyla: I come up to you and put my hands on either of your huge delts. “It‘s not the door that is small, Jake…“ I smile as I lean in, pressing our foreheads together. I give your nose a kiss and whisper, “…it‘s you who is the strongest and biggest and most muscular and massive boy in this town.” You giggle cutely then force yourself into a more manly chuckle as you wrap your mega arms around my skinny body and lift me up, spinning yourself and me around and around and around before setting me down and getting on your tiptoes to kiss me. Jake: “Wheeeeeeee!” *I cheer as I spin you around before setting you down like a toy, acting like a little kid with enormous muscles. Then, I flex my gigantic calves and stand on my toes so I can kiss you. “Thanks… Tyla…” *I say, planting a wet, slobbering, very sloppy kiss on your cheeks. “I think I love you….” Tyla: The saliva filled and slobbery kiss tickles me and I try to squirm away but your rock solid arms have me in a titanium hold with no chance of escape. I giggle hysterically as you keep kissing me and nuzzling my neck, your arms flexing around my little body to hold me tight. We laugh and wriggle, playing with each other, with you obviously being the dominant one throughout. When you stop, I turn to you and wipe a lock from your forehead. “I think love you too, Jake.“ Jake: “Hey… wanna go to my house? My parents are at work and I’m kinda lonely right now. Wanna hang out at my place for a few hours?” *I ask you gently as I lift you a few inches above the ground with great ease. Tyla: I breathe heavily at the thought, making it obvious what I was trying to hide in the sports store. “Yes…“ I reply, my voice hoarse. You set me down and start walking, holding my hand firmly in your larger one. I enjoy the feeling of my narrow shoulders rubbing against your massive one as we leave the mall. We sit down at the bus station, with you pulling me onto your lap and happily nuzzling my cheek, tickling me and making me laugh. Jake: *I hug you and kiss you… I get bored from waiting at the bus stop and I sit there, leaning with my head and my shoulders against you . I affectionally rub your leg and your arm as well. I lovingly place my arm over your shoulder, pressing you against my massive shoulder blade. “Uhh… when is that bus coming?” *I groan as we finally hear the bus pull up. “Yay! It’s here!” I get up and leap three feet in the air as the bus comes closer. “Whoohoo!” *Finally, the doors open and I get on, showing my student card. I turn back and pull you in behind me. “Come on!” I practically carry you on the bus and I put you in the chair on the first row before I plop down next to you, squeezing as close to you as possible. You feel my massive shoulders, biceps and thighs rubbing against you…. Tyla: You deliberately press against me as the bus drives along. Long gone is the shy muscle boy from our first meeting just an hour ago. Now you lean into me, pressing me against the window, arms around me, squeezing me, giving me the tiniest of spaces between your hard muscles. I love it, looking at you as you look at me with dreamy eyes and a loving stare. We barely speak, only rubbing our heads together and softly kissing sometimes. You flex for me, entrancing me so much with your muscle show we both miss your stop. Jake: “Ahh! We missed my stop!” *I shout as I pull the cord for the bell, telling the driver we need to get off. So, the driver lets us off at the next stop, which is another block over. I get up and I lift you up and carry you off the bus like a rag doll. Then, without even thinking, I carry you on my massive shoulders as I use my gigantic legs to sprint back to my house, leaping over the 6-foot wooden fence using my rocket-powered legs. As soon as I get inside the yard, I set you down on the ground before I unlock the front door and I let you in. I lead you to my bedroom, all covered with posters of bodybuilders and with a full size weight bench in the corner next to the bed. Then, I remove my shoes and my clothes when you stop me and ask if I will try on the other item that you have in the bag. I take the bag and pull out a pair of large spandex swimming trunks. You turn around while I change, and then I tell you when I am ready. Standing by my bed in the shorts you picked out, everything is bulging. I stand there with a new confidence, every part of my fully flexed with confidence. Since hanging out with you, I haven't been clumsy even once. “Okay, let's cuddle, Tyla!” I order as I crawl in bed… I wait for you…. Tyla: I admire your room, breathing in the smells of your workouts, the countless workouts you must have had in here. I saunter over to your bed, standing at the edge of the mattress. “I could take my clothes off…“ I tease. “But why don‘t you do it?“ With a smile you extend your hugely developed arms and start lifting my t-shirt. Unlike you, I don‘t reveal several rows of thickly muscled abs. I am rather flat and skinny, but you stroke my skin using your strong fingers but with the gentlest of touch. You work the shirt over my head, revealing my newest pink bra supporting the still growing breasts of my undeveloped torso. You smile, then start unbuttoning my shorts, taking your time, teasing me. Jake: *I happily reach over and pull your shirt off, up and over your head. Then, I unzip and unbutton your shorts and let them drop down. Then, I pull the shoes and socks off your feet. Finally, I reach over and lift you up as I pull you towards me on the bed and I lay down flat on my back and I lay you face down right on top of me. You in your pink bra and panties, not the most cover model girl I have ever seen, but being the first girl I have ever brought home, to me you are the most beautiful. It feels so awesome. Your thin, light body rests neatly on top of my thick, muscular frame. I run my big hands over your back and your tight butt. I press you firmly down so you feel every muscle on my rock hard body. “Ohhh God this feels so nice…” *I moan softly. Then, I turn my head and I start kissing you on your cheeks. Tyla: You practically use me as a blanket, laying me on top of you. One difference though, I don‘t cover nearly as much of your body as a blanket would. Your broad frame with thick shoulders and massive thighs is completely visible with my thin as a pencil body on top of yours. You squeeze my butt as I feel your entire body, just by laying on you. “Yeah…nice...“ I agree as you pepper me with kisses. “This feels really nice, Jake.“ I stay still, letting you enjoy the feel of a much smaller body than your own, the unfamiliar touch of soft female muscles and other parts. Having only known your own body, you only know rock hard brawn and perfectly defined ripples of muscle. Jake: *I look at you with my dreamy eyes as I suddenly grab you by your sides and I lift you up…. Totally with easy and completely effortlessly…. I raise you up and extend my arms all the way, holding your entire body suspended above mine as I finally get to look you over without your shirt and shorts on…. But I stare at you with a big grin on my face…. “wow, you’re soooo cute… my very own college girlfriend… damn, I’m so lucky to have you….” *I hold you up like you weigh nothing at all… you marvel at my ridiculous strength as you see my incredible, thick, muscular arms, thicker than pythons… You figure I must be strong enough to lift a car, easily…. “You’re so beautiful…” *I whisper… Tyla: *I look down at your thick but lean body…. And I’m falling madly in love with you…. Your smooth, hairless body, your strong arms and legs, your cute face…. It’s driving me crazy… I extend my hands down to you and start stroking your face. It‘s rougher than mine. Mine is soft, rosy. Your is angular, tough. Strong. The face of a muscle beast boy. I love it though. My fingers glide over your cheeks and nose, over your lips and through your hair. You let me do it, all the while you are holding me up with no apparent strain at all. I rub your shoulders, then your pecs, gently stroking and pinching your nipples. You pant a little, your arms quivering just for the slightest of moments. I lift my finger to my mouth and lick, then return it to your nipple and play with it some more, now coated in my sweet saliva. I can feel it harden, just like everything on your body hardens. I smile, loving that I can have such an effect on you. Imagining ever part of you growing even bigger in our time to come together. Jake: *As you play with my nipples, you look down and you see a massive bulge forming in my groin area… You know that’s my cock… it’s getting bigger and bigger as I moan softly... You try to imagine how BIG I am… Then, I gently lower you down and let you rest on top of my massive chest and my big torso again… Now you feel the bulge throbbing underneath you... I look at you with my dreamy eyes like I’m in heaven… Tyla: My own body is in a state of readiness, my insides getting wet and ready for you. Laying our bodies on top of one another I feel your massive rod push against my welcoming lips. I gulp as you smile at me, giving me loving kisses, wordlessly reassuring me you won‘t let me get hurt in any way. Not even with the cock you‘re flexing right now against my body. Jake: *I just smile at you as I let out a yawn and I flip you around, wrapping my arms around you in a loving cuddle… “Ohh, Tyla, you’re making me so hard right now…" *I whisper to you as I gently rub your breasts with one of my hands. Tyla: You cuddle me to your hard and humongous frame with your impenetrable arms. If you fall asleep and I need to get up during our little nap, it would be an impossible task. Your not yet rock hard but still huge cock nestles nicely between my ass cheeks, both of us separated by thin layers fabric. You nuzzle the back of my neck as you whisper sweetly in my ear, accentuated by little flexes of your amazing muscles. Soon, you go quiet, drift away, and I too am sent to dreamland by the deep purring of my huge, massive, gorgeous, cute and powerful muscle beast boyfriend. Who can tell what dreams we will soon make come true...
  11. Jasmine was so happy to be heading home to her nice suburban neighborhood. She hadn't seen her parents for four years, having left for college to study Criminal Justice. The 21-year-old blonde was an absolute bombshell, and while she was in college was easily able to get in the pants of any man she wanted. She worked as a supermodel to earn cash during the school year - it was an easy job that gave lots of money and appealed to her narcissistic personality. But she was smart as hell too - during all three Summers, she was able to secure impressive internships that guaranteed her a spot at all the top law firms. Unfortunately, her busy life meant that she rarely got to speak with her family, but she was eager to fix that over these next few weeks. The one person she wasn't looking forward to was that obnoxious Dylan kid. When she had left for college four years ago, he was a skinny 14-year-old basketball player who thought he was hot shit because he was his middle school team's MVP and already six feet tall. He lived next door to Jasmine, and would frequently hit on her when passing by. Jasmine so did not have time for cocky little boys, but no matter how many times she told him that the little shit didn't get the message. Jasmine hoped that she could get by these next few weeks without bumping into the twerp. As Jasmine pulled up to her front yard, she paused. Next door was an incredible sight. A tall, handsome, muscular man, far bigger than any man she had ever laid eyes on, was mowing the lawn in front of Dylan's house. She had dated several football hunks and bodybuilder types in college, and never, ever had she seen a guy this powerful-looking. He was wearing no shirt, and every muscle bulged and rolled, phenomenally defined, his beautiful tanned skin stretched so thin that it may as well have not been there. Jasmine stepped out of her car and strutted over to the alpha stud, undoing the top button of her dress and swaying her queen bee hips. "Hey, big boy," she purred, "I don't remember ever meeting a hunk like you. The name's Jasmine... what's yours?" The stud turned off the motor and turned towards her. For the first time, Jasmine got a clear view of the musclegod's face. She gasped. "I'm Dylan," the megahunk flashed a knee-weakening smile. "And yes, I remember you, Jasmine." The blonde supermodel heard those words, but she couldn't actually comprehend what he was saying. She remembered Dylan as that flirty, hyperactive middle school punk. This man in front of her... he was one of the hottest... no, THE hottest man she had ever seen. But no, it was definitely him. Those were the same pretty brown eyes and full pink lips, but now all of his cute baby fat had melted and left behind a sculpted, drop-dead Hollywood-handsome face. He still had that obnoxiously self-confident smile, but with age his bold smirk had become breathtakingly sexy. And that was the same lazy hairstyle he was wearing four years ago, back when she left for college. Yes, this was the same boy. But in every other way, he had changed. Dylan had always been a tall, gangly teen. She had expected Dylan to remain tall even as an adult, but his height had absolutely skyrocketed. Jasmine was only 5'4, so Dylan stood well over a foot taller than her, and she got dizzy looking up, up, up into his gorgeous face. His gangliness, on the other hand, had all but disappeared. His skinny arms had grown into the most impossibly huge cannons she had ever seen. There was no way he could wear a t-shirt without popping the sleeves with those massive pythons - they were fucking bigger than her quarterback ex's quads! Speaking of quads, his thighs were literally thicker than her entire torso. She moaned out loud, thinking how hard he must fuck with those redwoods. Her face was eye-level with his deliciously thick nipples, which jutted from the heaviest, most powerful pair of pectorals she had ever dreamed of. Those pecs were so big that they actually bounced independently with his breath - or was he making them dance? They were mesmerizing, the way they swayed in the hot Texas winds, beads of sweat dropping from his mouthwatering nips. "Whoa Jasmine, you're making a mess down there." He nodded towards her crotch, and looking down, she shrieked as she realized she was touching herself, a large patch of wetness ruining the fabric around her lady parts. She glanced back up, and scowled when she saw Dylan's infuriatingly cocky smirk grow even wider. "Come on inside, I'll help you clean up." The muscleteen stepped forward and lifted Jasmine up so quickly she didn't even get a chance to breathe. At the touch of his iron-hard muscles, Jasmine felt herself squirt out even more of her feminine juices, her essence bleeding through the skirt and dripping onto the soft grass below. Dylan carried Jasmine into the house, the supermodel cumming all along the way. --- As soon as the pair were inside, Dylan grabbed Jasmine's head with one hand and smashed his mouth against hers, forcing her lips open with his tongue and ravaged her insides. With the other hand, he supported her body and fingered her moistness, driving her into further fits of ecstasy. She couldn't understand how he was doing it, but this 18-year-old musclebeast knew exactly how to make her cum, over and over and over again. She had never experienced sex as amazing as this in her four years in college with the dozens of men she'd fucked. Only after she had experienced her third orgasm - more than she normally experienced in a week - did Dylan break his lip lock. "God," Dylan growled, his voice so unbelievably deep and sexual that it forced Jasmine to release another flood of steamy volcano-hot essence. "I've been wanting to do that to you since I first met you." He dropped Jasmine on the living room sofa. She took in a huge breath, wheezing, her mind slowly recovering from the brain-shattering pleasure. "I got my first boner when I saw you in your high school cheerleading uniform," Dylan continued. "I knew that one day, I was going to conquer you. With my cock." He moved his hand to his black nylon shorts and fondled the shaft underneath. Jasmine gasped at the enormous outline, and how even soft it seemed to spill out of the musclegod's giant hands. "Except my cock was a lot smaller back then. Now..." Suddenly, the dick surged forward, enlarging several inches in seconds. Jasmine yelped - she had never seen such rapid growth! The stretchy nylon quickly tore under the force of the explosively expanding penis, which immediately slapped up against Dylan's flawless eight-pack abs with enough power to knock Dylan back on his ass. Jasmine could tell that the cock was at least foot long, easily bigger than her last two boyfriends combined, and he wasn't even fully erect! Jasmine screamed as Dylan's manhood grew and grew and fucking grew bigger. Now it was longer than her last three boyfriends! Holy shit! How could anyone take that? But wait, it was still growing! Four boyfriends! Impossible! That's two feet - twice his length only seconds ago, but still not finished! It stopped! Finally! At just short of five-boyfriends-long, Dylan's penis rivaled Jasmine's leg in length and far surpassed it in girth! It stood up, its head right above Dylan's own head, dripping a warm waterfall of mushy pre into Dylan's sexy bed of black hair. "I don't normally get this big," Dylan rumbled, legitimately surprised. "I guess I'm just really, really horny today'." "You have no idea." Now it was Jasmine's turn to be aggressive. She jumped off the sofa, her energy renewed by the superhuman man before her, climbing up his muscles to reach Dylan's cockhead. Standing on his shoulders, (and marveling at how he didn't even grimace to support her full body weight), Jasmine lowered herself slowly on Dylan's penis. The cockhead alone was too wide to enter, so she wiggled until, miraculously, she was able to slip the first half-inch inside. Immediately Jasmine screeched, her insides being torn apart by the impossibly vast girth of Dylan's fuckweapon. Her pain soon turned into unimaginable pleasure as she climaxed three times in a row, her brain trying and failing to acclimate to the sensation of having a Dylan-size cock inside of it. "Are you okay?" Dylan whispered, a surprising tenderness creeping into his erotically masculine voice. Jasmine wasn't okay. Her heart was pumping so loud that it was hurting her eardrums, and her legs were so sore that she could feel the muscle tearing apart. But she NEEDED Dylan's cock inside of her. All of it! "YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she screamed, squatting and lowering herself more, her softness slowly ripping to accommodate inch after inch after inch of the musclegod. Until... --- Jasmine woke up on a crusty, stained sofa. Her head throbbed, and she groaned, feeling fluids leak from her pussy. What day was it? What time? Where was she? How did she get here? She saw her phone to the side, and when she turned it on, she saw the text "11:13 AM, 5/22/2017". What was the last thing she remembered? She was driving home, coming back from college. But that was a long time ago... She was planning to arrive on the morning of May 20th. What had happened over the last two days? How did she sleep through it? Then she remembered. The hot guy... Dylan! That had to have been a dream. Dylan was an annoying little skinny brat four years ago. How could he grow into a nearly-seven-foot-tall male model bodybuilder with? How was it possible that these were the same stringy limbs she remembered from four years ago? And how could any human have a cock so BIG? Jasmine had never had a sex dream so ridiculous and so erotic. But it felt awfully real. "Maybe I'm going insane," she groaned, unlocking her phone to check her email. But her wallpaper had changed. It wasn't a cute flowery field. It was the man of her dreams, the man with the rockhard eight-pack, the mind-blowing chest, the jaw-dropping biceps, and that orgasm-inducingly beautiful smile. It was Dylan. Her eyes widened, then rolled up as her body convulsed and she let out a scream and an orgasm once again.
  12. Omiganda

    Basically a God

    Hey guy, just a short snippet of something I considered doing. If this goes well, I'm considering doing a story where I draw a picture for each chapter (including this one if it goes well). Dont worry though, most likely I'll put a finish to Bear's Cub before I start this. Feedback appreciated.~ --- Basically a God (Part 1?) We hid under our desks in terror as the shaking settled for the moment, cracks forming in odd places as if the room were coming apart. The TV flickered but our eyes were focused on the spot as we saw the live news of the whirlwind outside the building. The image was fuzzy but it was impossible to not recognize the research center after we’d been such an extensive tour. The helicopter streaming the footage was shaking at the speed of the winds impacting its flight, the light flickering as storm clouds hovered over the city as a harbinger of doom. Suddenly a rapidly moving shadow sped by the screen. It happened as quickly as it had started as the cameras paned and the shaky camera man gave us a brief glimpse of something speeding into the clouds, parting them for a moment before being absorbed. “He couldn’t possibly- “said the strained and croaking voice of James Hansen. It seemed almost too ironic for the predicted flooding patterns of New York’s climate to occur so soon as we’d appeared on the scene. For years I’d been wanting to brainstorm and wag chins with James Hansen, famous for his paper that clearly defined the dangerous to global warming. It was only another side effect to being friends with Johnny, though, as he’d been invited to come after putting himself on the map for collecting his master's degree at the ripe age of 20 for writing his thesis on his perfected method for sustainable food across the globe. That had been only a year ago when he’d only been “kind-of” a genius. In comparison, he was something otherworldly now, which the research center on global warming in New York had desperately wanted to use to help cure some of the world’s environmental problems with his rapidly growing brain power. Saving the world was natural for him, after all. Suddenly, there was a loud sound coming from the sky that deafened even the thundering, raining clouds above us. As if someone had used a vacuum to wipe the large, roaring dust bunnies in the sky. The shrinking clouds were gone quickly and quietly as though they’d never been there, a grey sky and some stray, pitiful clouds remained as survivors. A boom from the sky could be heard through the TV and above in quick succession as something in the sky flew down and hit the flooding water quickly. We were all silent as the water continued to surround and sink our building, probably a pastime we were sharing with many others watching the news. The water began to very slowly recede as something could be seen occurring in the water. A whirlpool that had grown quickly in the water was pulling in the tide and forcing it up. “Holy god, he’s actually reversing the tide” came James’ voice. I clenched my jaw, something I’d been doing often for the past few years. Johnny had done it again, he’d saved the day and was probably doing victory laps in a whirlpool of his own creation. As the water receded and the tide pulled back into the ocean with the whirlpool, it became quieter for an instant before a loud clap caused the whirlpool to explode, water shooting up and probably making the largest rainbow as we all watched it shimmer. Johnny calmly walked in a minute later, his tight leotard stretched over his body, dry as a sheet of paper but the tight fabric glistening against his body. “Sorry, boys, took a detour and went for—“ he was cut off by a sudden rumble in his chest before a burp that flashed and blinded us for a moment. For a moment, I thought I saw lightning. “Yeah, lunch was an experience” he said. He rubbed his rippling chest as he grinned that stupid yet handsome grin he normally saved for the moments that irritated me the most. This was natural, everyday news for me and anyone else who’d heard of Johnny Poundstone. He’d made a name for himself as the prodigy creation of the US government, something you’d think had been made in an actual Area 51. Johnny was the poster boy of every newspaper in every city he visited. If you went into dark enough places, you might have actually heard hisses of fear. A real superhero for many who’d dreamed of someone so impressive to be their savior in their time of need. That rippling chest I mentioned before was mounted on top of a massive being. At 7’2, he was a tower of intimidating brawn that seemed to be in a constantly flexed state in the way his muscles were always bulging and pushing against whatever fabric he wore. A giant of his caliber didn’t need superpowers to dumbfound people but he had those too. Johnny had come a long way from that thin, flimsy straw of a human lying in his bed, dying of cancer. It was thanks to the government’s recommendation of giving him the treatment of a lifetime that led to the hulking man of today. It was terrifying to watch the nerd I used to bully in high school grow to such size and popularity in the world. He wouldn’t tell me the details but it was pretty obvious he had control in many realms of government and politics though he let on for me to believe he was just a “consultant”. Johnny had the world under his thumb and everyone might as well have known. I couldn’t compare the enlarging man of today with the 5 foot nothing kid me and my football player buddies used to stuff into the toilet seats of bathrooms and use as a dummy to tackle……. after practice. It was depressing looking back on how the years changed us both. I was the best running back in our state before college. After that, everything I’d pushed off cut up with. I stopped training cause I was too busy enjoying college parties, I lost my scholarship after getting caught with steroids in my system, and before you know it, I was running on student loans to cover my college tuition in fees. Me and my family just didn’t have the money as a lower middle class household. It was a miracle I’d had the credit in my name to push me through to my current years of grad school, my weary body looking closer to 30 than my actual age of 25. I was almost 100k in debt before I got a call from the twerp I picked on in school. I could look back now and see what I’d become as I looked out on the patio of the tower built to house Johnny and anyone else he wished in his multi-story building. 10s upon 10s of floor space for him and him alone that he was willing to share with me of all people. “Don’t stand out here too long or you might lose your sense of balance and fall” I heard Johnny’s deep voice say behind me as he also came out on the patio. I didn’t look back as I knew what feelings would stir but my heart still raced. I feared he’d gain the power to read minds the way his powers grew by the day. Just last week he’d learned to produce lightning from any part of his body. Long story short, the movie theater was still a mess after he’d raged at the last Captain America movie. “Why the fuck are they even here?!” he roared before he’d accidently spat lightning from his mouth that flew out and burned a large hole through the screen. I should have known to remember how emotional he got when he watched superhero movies. They always seemed to let him down in the worst ways. Not being a geek for that crap myself, I had to pretend to enjoy it as he talked on and on about fictional powers, and wars, and even wolverines. It was hard not to force myself to enjoy it when he’d consumed my life so quickly. I didn’t really stop him or struggle, really. He’d snapped his fingers and gotten me a full ride without batting an eye. “Sam?” I looked back but didn’t respond before he placed his large hand on my back. I was still a decent size at 190 and 5’8 but having a giant come up behind me and consume my back with one hand made me shiver. I tried to play it cool. “Your heartbeat’s moving rapidly, bro. Are you catching a fever?” he said as he began to ruffle my shoulders gently. I was afraid what could happen if he touched me without any control. He clearly had to remaster his body as it wasn’t very long ago when he’d tried to hand me a cup of coffee he’d made for breakfast only to nearly burn my hand off when he passed it to me. He laughed heartily with his deep voice then, his golden and hairy face flashing white with his sparkling teeth and his model-esque face seemed to contort in new beautiful ways. “Sorry, little guy, I think I forgot how hot it should be for normal skin when I set my heat power” he said as he went to go make another cup. I looked back and saw him suddenly stand straighter behind me, his hands still firmly holding my shoulders. “Hey, um, I’ll be back in a little while, you can tell Stell to come back another time.” No one could have stopped him as he suddenly hovered over the ground, looking even taller than before until he lifted off and went in a direction. I couldn’t see as far as him but I could only assume he was off somewhere to milk his powers like the show off he was. I went back inside once I couldn’t see his large and tight butt in his shining leotard and closed the patio door behind me. His latest victim was on the couch unconscious, her clothes on the floor and her naked form spread out as though she had basked in the sun and didn’t want to move. The look on her face looked pleasant but I neglected to notice. “Hey, you, get up. He’s out. Leave.” I said plainly. Another random chick he’d had sex with who still hadn’t figured out she was just a tool for him. At the beginning, Johnny had told me how his body had become more “masculine” or something corny like that but after the first warning, he’d taken it to the next level. At this point, I assumed any time he wasn’t saving the world, he was fucking some unsuspecting girl in the city who had a craving for his godly body. I didn’t wait the girl to get up as I went and took the elevator to my floor. As the door’s closed, I lifted my shirt, pulled my zipper down and stuffed my hand into my pants. A moan escaped as I rubbed my hard and leaking cock through my underwear. I couldn’t believe I was attracted to Johnny and his body. But it was more than that. I was attracted to his powers. I was attracted to his cockiness. I was attracted to his strength. I was attracted to him in a way nothing before had. He was more than anything I’d ever asked for and anything I could have dreamed of. You know, basically a god.
  13. Part1 Part2 Part3 Part4 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8 Part9 Part10 I'm only a little late haha. Enjoy guys! This is a long one. Check out the previous chapters if you haven't already! Comment and like too. I love your input. Wednesday: You Mirin’, Brah? Part 11 I awake to the sound of my alarm. It’s the beginning of April. School ends in May and this means I need to put my plan into action. I want to see if Ethan enjoys worship as much as I do. Being able to flex for each other and admire one another’s gains would honestly make my day. I know he won’t be like Troy. He won’t corner me in the shower or be comfortable being around me stark naked, but I don’t want that from him. For some reason I feel like that would complicate our friendship and be awkward for us. Ethan does not behave like Troy and that’s okay. I do want us to be closer friends though and I want him to know about some of the things that went down with Troy. I need his advice and I have definitely come up with a way of testing him… in my own weird way. I roll out of bed. As usual, I slept naked and with my phone in hand I make my way into the bathroom outside my bedroom door. Living in a frat house is pretty chill; none of my other bros give a damn if they see my ass as I walk the short distance down the hall into the bathroom. It has actually been a while since I’ve showered in my house, because I usually shower in the gym locker room. I walk into the bathroom and hear the water running. I also here someone singing. “—Look at my body. Look at my body. Look at my body. Don’t I look sexy?! sings the voice in the bathroom. “Jason! Is that you dude?” The voice stops singing. “That you Von?” “Yea, man.” “Asuh dude!” “Asuh!” There are three shower stalls in the bathroom. Jason is in the middle so I walk into the one on the right. I look down and check my phone. I see a message from Angelica and read it as Jason continues to sing. Angelica: Hey! Lakeside Restaurant and swimming today at 12:00. I’ll pick you and Jason up from your house. Don’t forget to bring your appetite. See ya I set my phone on the floor, close the shower curtain, and turn on the water. “Yo, Jason, you ready to chow down later?” “Yeah man!” he says. “I haven’t had real food since I moved to this campus.” We both laugh at this because our campus’ dining hall serves food about as horrible as food can get. I quickly soap up and I am done in 5 minutes. I don’t usually take long showers. I step out and look around for my towel as Jason is getting out of his shower. “Agh!” he says in surprise. “There you go flashing that sweet ass of yours again haha.” He lets out of chuckle. Like I said before, my brothers are used to it. “I forgot to bring a towel, so technically this sweet ass exposure is an accident.” I say with a wink. I look Jason up and down. He joined the fraternity a few months ago but we never got the chance to hang out because of how “occupied” I was. This boy has really grown into a man since we last wrestled, which was way before he joined the frat. He’s 18 years old, around 5 ft 10, and is much bigger than the 140 pound boy I remember. He must be 170 pounds at least by now. His thick legs are wrapped in a blue towel but it struggles to hide the big black anaconda behind it. My eyes trail up his washboard abs and to his bulbous, thick pecs. Fuck! They look to be a couple pounds each! “Dude!” I say “When did you get so damn huge?” “The weight lifting class has really helped, man. I haven’t seen you there in a while? Matter of fact, I haven’t seen Troy in a while either…” “I started working out outside of class. I needed that class time for… homework.” The truth was that the class just felt empty without Troy, but I won’t tell him that. “Well guess you have some catching up to do,” he says with a wink and walks around me to the bathroom door. “See you in a couple of hours!” I walk back to my room, still naked and wet. I find a towel, quickly dry of, and put on a pair of tight, blue, athletic briefs. I look over at the mirror on my closet door and flex my quads in the mirror. I fucking love the way they show off my thick bulge and ass. Smiling, I make my way back to my bed and I lay back to stare at the ceiling. I decided to skip my 9 am class so I have nothing to do until we go eat. I’m not feeling hungry so I just decide to stay in bed and think. My conversation with Jason made me realize how much I let my friendship drift with him. I definitely need to learn how to handle having multiple friends better. I think back on the interactions I’ve had with Jason in the past. I remember how close we were before I met Troy. Freshman and sophomore year were great. We were both little shrimps back then. I barely weighed 120 pounds. I guess we have both become big strong men. I close my eyes and let my mind drift. I start to think of crabs, fish, and clams… Oh no. I’m gonna starve to death. Damn it! I open my eyes and look across the room at my jug of Whey protein and blender bottle. My body definitely needs some fuel for growth. I jump up and grab the bottle, scoop some protein in and grab a bottle of water out of the fridge. I mix the water into the bottle and begin to shake it furiously. I start gulping the protein down and I look at the time again. It’s 10 am. I really need something to occupy myself with…But what? I sit down on my bed and look across the room into my mirror again. I look over every inch of my body. My thick meaty chest hovers over my 6 pack. Each rock hard mountain of abs protrude from the valleys of my gut. I look over at my biceps, now measuring about 16 inches and my eyes make their way down to my powerful biceps. “Look at you,” I say to myself into the mirror. “You’re a thick, strong, alpha male now. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.” My cock twitches at what I say. I stand up and walk to the mirror. I watch my powerful legs move beneath me and my quads rippling beneath my skin. I love my body, more than I am able to describe. My right hand naturally makes its way up to my left pec and I squeeze it hard, rubbing the nipples with my fingers. “This body deserves a little worshipping,” I say quietly. I have been really horny lately. It’s a bit insatiable honestly. I quickly walk to my door and close it. As soon as the door is shut, I strip off my briefs and look at myself in the mirror. My hardening dick slowly rises up, pointing straight into the air. I flex both biceps in front of the mirror and my dick involuntarily twitches again. It begins to leak precum onto the floor. I can tell that I am already there. I flex my pecs and watch them bounce in the mirror. That alone is enough to send me over the edge. I grab my cock and slowly begin to stroke. The heavy meat throbs in my hand. I look and see the veins bulging from every inch of my manhood. A few more strokes and I’ll blow all over this mirror. I stroke once, then twice, then a third time, and I already feel my body melting as a jet of cum blast out of my cock onto the mirror. 3 more jets shoot out onto the mirror and then down onto the floor. I let out a huge gasp of air and I feel so relieved. “Boy I needed that.” I clean myself and the mirror and before I know it, it’s 12 and I’m in the back seat of Angelica’s Purple Jeep Wrangler. I am in the back with Jason who is sitting behind Zeus. The radio is blaring some random pop hit and we’re all having a wonderful time. The sun is shining just perfectly and there is not one cloud in the sky. “Me so hungry!!” Zeus screams. For those of you that may have forgotten, Zeus is a 250 pound gorilla man and food should not be denied to him. “Don’t worry Z, we’re almost there,” Angelica says as she makes a left turn. We had been driving in the city for about 10 minutes and are now nearing the edge. Soon we will be in a little section of the city the residents call Heaven. No joke. Heaven includes a few nice restaurants, the lake, and a couple docks for fishing and swimming. The reason it is called Heaven is because of the seclusion. The entire area is surrounded by trees. The little area covers a few dozen miles and is like a peninsula to the outside world. It’s almost impossible to make your way in or out without taking the one road that leads in and out of it; it’s the road we happened to be on. We drive deeper into the green of the forest and the light inside and around the car begins to glow in a beautiful shade of lime. Angelica turns off the radio and we all go silent as we soak in the quietness of the forest. All that can be heard is the engine of the jeep. “I freakin love this place,” Jason says. “I bet they call it Heaven because of how peaceful it is.” “Or the heavenly sex that goes on by the lake,” Zeus says. “Not that YOU would know about that,” Angelica retorts. “Dayum!”I say, bursting into laughter and this leads the rest of the car into hysterical laughter. Even Zeus can’t help from laughing. We finally reach our destination after a few minutes. The Lakeside Restaurant is a small but welcoming place, with the best seafood in our area. From the outside it looks like your typical diner with a few tables out front, but we know better. We all hop out of the car and quickly make our way inside. A beautiful blonde hostess is standing by the front door. She smiles graciously at us and Zeus turns a little red. I smirk at him. “Would you like to dine inside or outside?” says the hostess. “Outside please!” we all say at once. “Have a seat anywhere you want and someone will be there to treat you soon.” We go outside and have a seat at a homely picnic table. The sun shines it’s beautifully canopied green glow onto the table. It’s perfect! I sit beside Angelica across from Zeus and Jason. “Any appetizer ideas?” I say as I pick up a menu from the table. “Dude, sriracha shrimp or nothing!” Jason says with wide hungry eyes. “Anything for you big guy,” I say with a laugh. “Hey, that’s Mr. Big Guy to you.” My phone vibrates and I peak at it. It’s Ethan. He wants to go for a quick run today. I hastily text back and say that I’m with friends, but I’d happily join him later. "Who ya talking to?" Angelica says nosily. “You remember Ethan?” I say. She looks baffled. Jason's eyes flicker to mine. He knows Ethan from back when we wrestled. "Our high schools wrestled each other way back when and then we suddenly ended up at the same college together." “Oh yeah yeah yeah! I don’t talk to him much, but he was pretty hot—cool… Uh hotly cool…" she responds blushing. “What's he saying?" she asks curiously. "He’s just seeing what's up with me. We’re pretty close. He wants to go running later." “Is he your new best friend?" Zeus says. “Ehh, I don't really like to use that expression," I say. “So many people go around calling others their best friends. It has no meaning anymore. I look over Zeus’ head and see a waiter walking towards the table and holy fucking shit… It’s Troy. What are the fucking odds!! I try to maintain my posture and keep my eyes from bulging out of my head from the shock of seeing him here. Zeus looks at my face and chuckles. "What's up with your face, man?” “Oh nothing I’m just—“ “Vonny!” Troy says. My heart pauses for a second. Breath, just fucking breath you fool! “Hey man, what’s up?” I say with a weak smile. He’s wearing a tight black polo that shows off his still thick biceps and I am still amazed at how much size he has maintained. “Working. I’ve had a lot of free time so I got a job. As you probably already know, I will be the waiter for you all today,” he says this and gives us all a sweet smile. “Can I start you guys off with a drink and an appetizer?” Troy says. “Yes! Sriracha shrimp please!!!” Jason yells. “And water for all of us broke college students.” Everyone one of us, even Troy, laughs at this. We all know the struggle. Troy quickly takes our order and leaves. I feel the life quickly drain back into me. “So what is Ethan up to these days?" Jason says. “Well he’s double majoring shit and trying to get a nursing degree and a bachelors in 3D modeling/animation,” I say. “Other than that he enjoys working out, basketball and wrestling. Wrestling was actually the first thing we did when we started hanging out” Jason smiles at this because he was at our wrestling reunion. “You guys haven't seen each other in ages and the first thing you wanted to do was wrestle!?" Angelica says. "That sounds sweaty and disgusting." I laugh at this. Typical of a girl to be disgusted of something so awesome. If they only knew the rush US men got from taking each other on. I look over her shoulder to see if Troy is returning yet. I’m starving. I don’t see him but I catch a glimpse of the slow flowing lake. I can’t wait to get in the water. I wish Troy could chill and enjoy his time here like me, with me. I'll admit that. But being here with my friends is good enough for me and one day we'll rekindle our bond. I look down at my phone again and I got another message. Ethan: Where you eating brah? Me: Lakeside restaurant. Going swimming after. Ethan: Cool, let me come through! Me: Sounds good to me! “So Ethan is coming,” I say. I've never hung out with Ethan outside of the gym or wrestle mats except for eating in the dining hall. This day was getting more exciting. After a workout we usually go our separate ways. I wonder why he wants to come today. It could be that he loves the food, or that he's tight with Jason. I believe it is safe to assume that they hang out sometimes. Either way, I was curious as to what is going to happen. “Ah there he is!” Zeus exclaims as he sees Troy walking back with our water and shrimp. I keep it together this time. “Thank you, Troy,” I say. “No prob, bro. You guys ready to order? “Hell yeah we are!” Angelica screams. An hour and a half later we are all finished eating and in our bathing suits by the lake. We had our fill of crab legs and shrimp and we felt amazing. Sadly, Ethan never showed up. Jason and I race each other to the water, swimming laps around Zeus and Angelica. The evening goes by in a flash and after a while we are all out of the lake and lying in the grass nearby. “Sorry Von, it’s time to go and Ethan still isn’t here,” Angelica says. This does suck, but she’s right. “Ok, let’s go,” I say. I get up from the grass and begin looking for my clothes when a silver car pulls up into the small gravel parking lot behind us and beeps its horn. The door flies open and Ethan steps out. “Dude! Where have you been!?” I say as I walk towards him. “Sorry man! Traffic!” he says. “You guys aren’t leaving are you?” “As a matter of fact, we were,” Angelica says. “Sorry bub.” Bub? “I’m willing to stay with you for an hour, “I say. “Jason, Zeus, what about you two?” “We both have a test to study for,” Zeus says. “Hey I don’t need to study,” Jason says, “Yeah you kind of do,” Zeus says with a roll of his eyes. “Definitely next time, Von. “Okay” I say. It sucks that they all have to leave but… actually this is perfect. I can set my plan into action! They quickly put their clothes on and are driving off within 5 minutes. Ethan and I are alone then. “Got your trunks, bro?” I say. “Trunks!? You mean my speedo,” Ethan says with a smirk. I gotta show of these legs brah!” He takes off his shirt, shoes, and pants to reveal a tight blue speedo. I try to avoid gazing at his huge bulge. That is not a part of the plan. We are both standing in the grass by the lake. I’m still a little wet and in my black swimming trunks. Seeing Ethan in a speedo kind of reminds me of bodybuilding posers and with this though I put my plan into action. “You like showing off right?” I say carefully. “Depends. What do you mean?” he says. “Well, you’re basically wearing a poser. You might as well flex a bit, bro? Show off what you’ve worked so hard for.” I look at his face as I talk to him and I can see the thoughts going through his mind. “Ok,” he says suddenly. “What should do? A back flex?” He turns around and every muscle in is back fills with blood as he flexes both biceps. I see each lump of muscle along his thick traps and it only gets better when he lowers his arms and flexes his lats. The lats spread beneath him like wings and my mind is blown. “I didn’t know your back was that big man!” I say. “That ain’t all that’s big,” he says and turns around. He flexes his pecs at me. The thick balloons bounce and I can see the vascular tubes pushing fresh blood into his working muscles. “Damn!” I say. I know that if he is this comfortable showing off, he will have no problem with me opening up to him about Troy. He then flexes his right bicep and the rock of muscle is engorged. How lucky am I to have such a jacked buddy?! I look over his shoulder and I see someone looking at us. I panic a little and then I panic a lot. It’s Troy and he does not look happy! I stare deep into his eyes. He stands behind the cars in the mini parking lot and all I see is jealousy and rage out of him. But worst of all, he looks like he has been betrayed. I can basically feel it from the lake and he is 40 feet away. He suddenly turns around and leaves. “Vonny?” Ethan says. “Ready to go for a swim?”
  14. Sorry it's been so long since the last post, but here are then next installments in Andrew and Nicole's growth adventure. When will it stop... Parts 1+2+3: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6460-dont-stop-parts-1-3/ Parts 4+5: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6569-dont-stop-parts-45/ PART 6: Andrew lay on his bed stunned at the amount of times he had just masturbated. He thought it had to be a record to have cum almost thirty times in a 24 hour time frame, but his analytical thoughts were soon squashed by his raging hard-on. It looked absolutely massive compared to what he had barely swinging between his legs only two days ago. He was so proud of his meat that he almost forgot about how jacked he was now. His right arm was noticeable larger than his left due to the pump he had gotten from jacking off so much, so he decided to hit the gym and test out his new physique. Hi cock got super hard just thinking about lifting weights. “Maybe I’ll hit the gym after a little self-workout…” Nicole was running some assays in her lab when she overheard a troubling conversation. “Have you seen our pheromone chapstick prototype Jessica? I can’t find it on my lab bench. I swear I just set it down there a couple of days ago…” Bret said. Nicole knew exactly where the chap stick was, but she wasn’t about to confess to stealing it so that she could make her crush into more of a man. And what a man he was shaping up to be. Nicole knew the chap stick was more than just capable of attracting members of the opposite sex. Through her organic chemistry knowledge she knew that the chap stick had certain properties that would enhance male virility characteristics including muscle mass, penis size, body hair, and sex drive. She had decided to put her knowledge to the test on Andrew who had been a meek and weak boy until a couple days prior when he had begun his true transition into manhood. Nicole had liked Andrew for a while, but now she was starting to find him irresistible. She started getting wet just thinking about his big dick and his new beard. It took everything she had not to start masturbating right then and there in her lab. Meanwhile, Andrew was proving to be a monster in the gym. He had gone a few times before to try to build some muscle to impress the girls in his classes, but he gave up after a few days of not seeing any results other than a severe soreness and increased appetite. However after his (secret) doses of growth formula he was setting personal records like crazy. He hardly felt winded after more than an hour of a grueling full-body workout, but he felt pumped. His muscles felt like rocks under his skin, and speaking of rocks, his penis had been hard as a rock since he left his house. He finally decided to take care of it and ran to the bathroom. Jumping in a private shower stall he started stroking his shaft and feeling up his now swollen muscles. His pecs felt like huge pillows, and the coating of hair on them was driving him crazy. He felt like a real man and wanted to cum like a real man. Nicole wasn’t around, but he had plenty of memories to work with and was orgasming like never before in just a few strokes. He felt like the orgasm would never stop, but it sadly did after almost a minute of constant and intense cumming. PART 7: Somewhat satisfied, Andrew returned to the weight room just as Nicole arrived for a light workout. She absentmindedly put on some of the growth chap stick believing it was just her normal chap stick. She had just started running on the treadmill when she heard a loud series of grunts coming from the weight room and decided to check it out. Surprise surprise, it was Andrew who was making all of the manly noises. To her surprise, he looked absolutely swollen. His pecs were large enough that she could lose a few fingers in his cleavage, and his legs looked like they were cut from diamond. His muscles weren’t as big as she would have liked (yet), but she was definitely getting turned on by her new manly boyfriend. His sweaty chest hair and beard were just confirming his newfound virility to her, and she knew she had to have him immediately. “Hey Andrew,” Nicole whispered seductively into his ear, “How about we go hit the showers.” Andrew’s dick, which had softened up just a bit since his last monumental ejaculation, became instantly rock hard when he hear Nicole’s voice. He didn’t say a word to her, he just picked her up in his hot rippling arms and carried her to the shower area. As soon as they found an empty stall they got to work. Andrew stripped off his shirt which was completely soaked with his sweat and revealed a chiseled six pack like Nicole had never seen before. Nicole, who didn’t know she had put on the growth chap stick, frantically tore off the rest of their clothing and started kissing Andrew all up and down his body. His 7” dick stood hard at attention, just waiting for the moment for Nicole’s lips to reach it. His balls were swollen and churning with huge loads of cum just waiting to be released. Nicole started blowing him, and he almost lost it right then and there. It felt so good whenever she had her lips stretched tight around his rapidly growing cock. He briefly thought back to just a few days before when he was jacking off to this exact fantasy, and he couldn’t believe how far he had come (and cum) in such little time. After a few minutes of the best blowjob of his life, Andrew picked Nicole up and impaled her on his stick. She screamed and moaned in pleasure as she orgasmed immediately from the penetration. Her orgasm was driving Andrew’s dick crazy, and it took only a few more minutes for him to erupt. He was in absolute bliss and felt like he was cumming for an eternity (in reality it lasted for three minutes, but that’s still inhumanly impressive). Completely exhausted yet entirely insatiable, the couple cleaned themselves up (not before a few more rounds of crazy sex) and headed home where their sexual marathon would never stop. All the while, Nicole was thinking about how much manlier Andrew would become and if she ever wanted to stop her not-so-little experiment.
  15. I am hoping there are other fans of the IFNB out there… It is, in my opinion, one of the best, consistent and intensely erotic muscle fiction series out there! I have been VERY in to the ongoing muscle fiction of the IFNB for a few years. It is a unique work, because it is not told like a traditional story but is told via "reports" from the world of the IFNB (International Federation of Naked Bodybuilding). Every post is coverage of a contest, backstage or personal profile of huge, hung, alpha-aggressive athletes. Over the course of the short posts, story lines and themes emerge and it becomes VERY hot. The creator(s?) clearly know the real world of competitive bodybuilding yet also have broad-ranging imaginations. Everything from vanilla muscle worship to hardcore gang rape and everything in between! Old-young, coach-jock, hetero and homo, extreme sex and basic showing off . . . it all seems to happen in this world. The cool part is that they acknowledge in clever ways how this has been going on in real life and why none of us are familiar. They are tethered to real life (even if the muscle growth stuff is sometimes pure science fiction), so it makes it hotter. I also like how they RESPOND TO OUR COMMENTS and the storyline follows the fans' interests. The hot discussions and sub-fantasies that emerge are sometimes as hot as the posts themselves. I really get into chatting IFNB with other fans, so thought I'd post here and see who else loves these stories?
  16. This was on the other site but I've slowly been porting my stories over to here. It's a hetero story, so avert your eyes if need be. “There. Him. Pull over,” Erica pointed at the skater-boi cruising along the sidewalk. He was moving. The quite rumble of his skateboard’s wheels punctured rhythmically by the swish of his foot touching the ground and powering him on. He was young. 18? 19?. And shirtless. His shorts sagging around his waist. Drawing up on him from behind, she could see the tops of his gluteus muscles forming a tight v and showing the curve of his ass as they flexed and unflexed with his movement. As the car pulled up beside him he stopped and turned towards it. His body was young and wiry rather than muscular. But he still had tight lean pectoral muscles and a six-pack that reflected a body with barely an ounce of fat on it. She rolled down her window and beckoned him over. “You look like you’re hot. Would you like a lift?” He was clearly hot. His skin glistened with sweat and he smelled. Not bad, but the earthy smell of fresh sweat on clean skin. He reached up to brush his long shaggy brown hair out of his brown eyes. She could see the damp dark hair of his armpit pressed against his skin, the cording of his back muscles as he moved. And then he smiled at her and leaned against her window, stretching out his body catlike. “Why would I want to get in a car with an old lady like you?” He asked, sneering at her. “What do you have to offer me?” She didn’t miss a beat. Instead she leaned back so that her breasts rose out in front of her, contained, but only barely, in a tight fitting red dress. She wasn’t a model. She was 34 and hints of her age touched the corners of her eyes. But she took care of herself. She was fit. Her blonde hair fell flawlessly to her shoulders. At 5’7” she was only an inch shorter than him and in heels she’d have an easy two inches over him. “What do I have to offer,” She asked stretching her arms out to lean back on the leather upholstery of the limousine. “Everything. And I’m sure you have something to offer me.” He got in, oh there was a few words more of the back and forth, but the end was never in doubt. The driver rolled his eyes as he pulled away from the curb. The exchange was a conceit. The two had met over a month ago in exactly this way. But since then, every day or two, the scene had repeated itself. A prequel for what was to follow. Decadence. That’s what her friends called it when they found out and they had found out almost immediately. He’s barely legal they had said. Are you paying him? This is what happens when you have more money then you know what to do with. It was true. All of it. Decadence. The ability to be decadent had to be earned first. Erica was no silly bimbo. She was brilliant. She had inherited wealth, but a nose for business and investments had turned it into a fortune. She ran her own investment company and had been dubbed the Oracle of LA by the media a few years ago for her ability to sense what was going to generate money and when. She had cash to burn and as she settled into her mid 30s she decided to do exactly that. Oh, she didn’t turn her back on her work, but she turned her back on denying herself the things she wanted. She indulged in wine. She indulged in food. Her 120 pound aerobic fit body had slid up to 130. And when she had seen that skaterboi sliding down the street the first time she knew she wanted him. He’d caught her staring at her when she was at a stoplight, with her windows down. It was the moment when youthful insolence collided with decadence. He’d laughed at her when she had asked if he was a gigolo. It was a delightfully archaic term. “I prefer the term man-whore, you’re not a gigolo until you find someone worth going back to a second time.” But there was a hint of a challenge in that sneer. A dare. “Would you be worth a second trip?” “You insolent little…” but she couldn’t hold the anger because he kept that cheeky grin on the entire time. “Alright,” she said. “Get in the car. Let’s see what you’ve got.” As it turned out, after a wild night that included multiple bottles of wine, the little punk was as good as his word. He walked out the next morning, set his skateboard down on the sidewalk, gave it two pumps and was off. And from there, they had settled into a routine. At first she had picked him up. But eventually, he had started showing up on his own. Never completely unannounced, but sometimes early. Some times late. Sometimes she found him in her bed waiting for her. The staff knew to let him in. She liked him. She liked his insolence. He wasn’t cowed like every other man she encountered. Or worse, he wasn’t pretending adoration while calculating what he could get out of her. He was exactly what he seemed, a cocky youth; still convinced that youth and a hard cock made him the king of the world. He liked to call her Venus, his fertility goddess. She countered that if she was going to be a fertility goddess, he was going to be the male equivalent. A Priapus, He let out a rare giggle when she said that. His name was Jordan, or Jayden. It would be a year before she finally got it out of him. She called him Jay. He was Latino, on his father’s side. He never knew the man. His mother was Scottish (“of all things,” he had said when they’d finally discussed their parents). He was, to begin with, a compact 5’8” with a thin, tight 29 inch waist. . He had a six-pack but it wasn’t the tightly muscled abs of a body builder. No. This was wiry frame of a skaterboi. Being active and constantly on the move kept him taut. His face was pretty. That was the best word for it. Flawlessly perfect skin that had managed to clear the potentially rough road of puberty untouched and hadn’t been touched by any of the imperfections of age. He looked perpetually tanned, a gift from his father. Too young to be handsome, the edges of his face still had the softness of youth. His smile pulled in a sneer that would have left lines on an older face, but on his portrayed nothing but the delightful cocky arrogance of youth. Insolence. Life would eventually beat that insolence out of him, soften it, or turn it into something nastier. The future was still open to all possibilities. His cock was seven inches long, as lean as he was, and he could go from soft to rock hard in an instant. “C’mere you,” she reached over and grabbed him by his waist band, feeling the soft silk of the hair that grew from his groin to his navel as her fingers curled down into his shorts and then pulled him close. She liked it when he skateboarded over. It was a mile from the bus stop and his youthful body was slick with sweat when he arrived. *** “You’re getting fatter, Venus. More fertile.” He had told her that two months into the … relationship. It was true. She had put on 15 pounds since she had met him. It was if taking him on as a lover had opened the final floodgates to self-indulgence. At 145 she was not fat. But she was curvy. She was struggling to fit into what had once been her favourite dresses. Intellectually, she knew it was the cakes and sweats and drinks that filled the sexual hunger when he wasn’t around. But when he was laying next to her or thrusting into her with his tight body it was almost as if she could feel her body expanding to reflect the indulgence, the decadence of the relationship. He liked it. She knew he liked it. Like her, he credited himself with her slowly growing body. He had tracked her growth pound by pound and knew that it was her lust for him that was filling her stomach as surely as he filled her when he came. He wanted to see how large that lust would grow. She was dominant in the relationship. She could shut off their time together like a tap. He knew too, that she wouldn’t be his patsy. He couldn’t steal from her. She wouldn’t let herself be used by him. He knew that. But she couldn’t stop the feeling of indulgence that he had created, the hunger. That was his power. And like her, it felt like she was swelling beneath him as he ran his hands across her once B, now C cup and still growing breasts. The social forbiddennes of their relationship reshaped her. She was growing, rapidly. But she had smiled at him when he had noted her weight and replied: “You’re growing too.” It was true. With a steady … income … he had bought a gym membership and started working out regularly. Not slavishly, but regularly. He’d started eating better. The results were not dramatic, but they showed. His abs owed a little more to muscularity than simply lack of body fat. His shoulders were rounder. His pecs a little fuller. You would barely notice it to look at him, but she could feel the changes when they made love. A spare 125 pounds when they had met he had added another ten and he was even a little taller. *** He smiled coyly at her and then sat down on her lap facing her, his muscular legs wrapped on either side of her thickening waist and his hard cock was squeezed against her soft stomach. He thrust slightly as they made contact, involuntarily, and then holding up the grapes he let her bite them off the vine one by one. At some point, food had infiltrated their meetings. He had brought some cut pieces of watermelon one day, smiled, seductively ate a piece in front of her, and then offered one to her. She had licked her lips and opened her mouth. It was a tacit recognition that she was growing and that he knew he was a part of it and that he was enjoying this power that came from their encounters. From then on every sexual encounter included at least a little food, perhaps as foreplay, chocolates fed to her one by one, perhaps during—he spread chocolate sauce across his chest and let her lick it off—perhaps afterwards and never an excessive amount. Never gorging. But the results were insidious all the same. Food became part of sex for her and sex became part of food. Every bite she took brought memories of his touch and their moments together. Eating lunch at the office would leave a smile on her face. Snacking on dainties all afternoon left her feeling warm. He’d whispered in the ear of Jansiea, her housekeeper, to have a seamstress update her wardrobe and she had passed 160 pounds without even realizing it. But quid pro quo. If she was no longer going to be thin, he was no longer going to be a wiry skaterboi. She started feeding him too. That too became part of their love-making; but where she was fed sweets, and fruits and felt her body growing in response, he was fed meat and protein, creatine and glutamine; she turned her pantry into a pharmacy of supplements. If he tipped her head back and fed her chocolates during their love-making, she tipped a protein shake to his mouth and laughed when some escaped and trickled down his chin. Once erratic trips to the gym turned into a twice daily routine. He usually went out, but an underutilized gym in her own palatial home was filled with equipment for his use. When he worked out there she would come in and wrap her arms around his sweaty body and feel his swollen muscles growing with her help. And the body of the skaterboi slowly grew into a thicker swimmer’s build. No steroids. By mutual consent. She wouldn’t offer them. He wouldn’t take them. She wasn’t trying to create a monster and he didn’t want to be one. But even without them, he grew more muscular, just as she grew heavier. If she had slid past 160 without noticing, he had hit 150 just the same and when he kissed her now he tilted his head down slightly to do it.
  17. BEACH MUSCLE DREAM BY GLAMLEATHERPUNK (AKA GLAMROCKCOWBOY) INSPIRED BY NO NAME'S REMORPHED PICTURE OF THE SAME NAME ON THE DEVIANT ART WEBSITE It was a cold, raw, brooding day in early February—the kind of day that exactly suited the mood of the solitary figure walking up a deserted beach in northern California. 18-year-old Greg Brzinski was slowly making his way towards an old lifeguard's beach house. Just that morning, he had finally re-ceived his high school diploma in the mail, after passing all his exams a semester early. On learning of Greg's graduation, his father had immediately pulled out a gun and forced his son to pack all his mea-ger worldly possessions in the large duffel bag that was now slung over his slender shoulders. He had repeatedly told Greg that, once he did graduate, the two would part ways forever. Even with that, how-ever, the boy had never expected to be forced out of the house at gunpoint. Once he had packed his things, his father had actually blindfolded him, put him in his very old and rus-ty car, and driven him out of the city, cursing Greg all the while. He had never wanted a child, he said. Indeed, he even went on to complain that the only reason he had married Greg's late mother was that he had been forced to do so by his own parents after getting Greg's mother pregnant. He then went on to curse her, and his parents as well, in the vilest language imaginable. (Greg's mother had died of cancer some two years earlier.) When they had reached one of the entrances to the beach, they had stopped. Greg had then been flung out of the car, followed, only a moment later, by his duffel bag. As Greg slowly picked himself up, his father pulled the door shut and drove away, laughing insanely as he did so. Despite his having been blindfolded, however, Greg had immediately recognized where he was. It was a small private beach, owned by an alumnus of Greg's high school, that Greg and his schoolmates had often used during the spring and summer months. Now, however, the beach was closed for the winter. Even the lifeguard's beach house toward which Greg was now headed was most likely deserted, although it was available for rent on a month-to-month basis during the winter months. Greg was acquainted with the owners of the beach. Indeed, he had told them of his father's threats the last time they had seen each other at the beginning of the school year. To his astonishment, the owner's son had given him a key to the house, telling him that he would be welcome to reside there if necessary until he could make some sort of other arrangements. Now, with his father having disowned and aban-doned him, Greg had no choice but to do just that. The slender youth sighed with relief as he came up to the door and gently laid his duffel bag on the ground beside him. Then, digging deep into his pockets, he extracted the key that his friend had given him. He sighed again as the key unlocked the front door of the house without the slightest difficulty. Breathing a prayer of thanks, he went inside and locked the door behind him. Much to his surprise, the beach house appeared to be clean and comfortably furnished. He flipped a light switch on the wall beside him. A series of concealed fluorescent fixtures along the walls instantly came to life, setting the room ablaze with light. Greg blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted them-selves to the higher level of illumination. Although the house was small, it had a combination living room and dining area, with a fireplace along one wall. To one side, there was a large wood box, which was filled with driftwood as well as kindling. There was even a box of matches on the mantelpiece. Since the house was already reasonably warm, Greg saw no need to start a fire as of yet. Instead, he went into the small but well-planned kitchen, along with a small pantry, that opened onto the dining room. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the shelves were all fully stocked, and so was the large refrigerator along one wall. There was even milk, butter, orange juice, and eggs, and all recently pur-chased at that, judging from the dates on the packaging. Greg shook his head in wonder as he made his way to the bathroom. Here again, the room was fully stocked with towels and wash cloths, along with soap and other toiletries. There was even a bottle of liquid bubble bath, along with a Jacuzzi tub! A front-loading combination washer-dryer stood in an alcove off the bathroom itself, along with a linen closet which was also fully stocked, including detergent, fabric softener, and non-chlorine bleach. Greg once more shook his head in wonder as he made his way up the small staircase to the beach house's second floor. Here, there was an enormous bedroom, with a California King-sized bed. To Greg's astonishment, the bed was swathed in what had to be the richest satin sheets, pillowcases, and comforter that he had ever laid eyes on. There was also a small bookshelf and desk area, including a telephone and computer, complete with high-speed internet access. The room was completed by a large overstuffed recliner, upholstered in the richest, softest black leather Greg had ever beheld. Indeed, the recliner appeared to have been a recent addition to the bedroom, for the aroma from the leather all but filled the room, actually causing Greg to experience an erection! Off to his left, there was a set of curtains, which, when opened, revealed a sliding glass door that led to a roofed balcony or porch, complete with beach chairs and a small picnic table. The view from the porch was nothing short of spectacular, even in weather like this. Indeed, even with the glass door shut, the occupant would have a marvelous view from the inside. Clearly, this beach house was not only built to last, but for comfort as well, even in the stormiest weather. Going back downstairs, Greg fetched his duffel bag, then returned to the bedroom and began putting his meager wardrobe into the walk-in closet and dresser. As he did so, Greg wondered if the house's owners might not have been keeping tabs on him, and prepared the house accordingly. Well, he would check on that possibility soon enough, Greg thought to himself. Right now, he needed to get a hot meal and a hot bath, and then maybe take a nap. Going back down to the kitchen, Greg decided on some hot chicken noodle soup, a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and a large glass of milk—a simple but comforting repast. After washing the dishes, Greg then drew a hot bath, including an appropriate amount of bubble bath, and turned on the Jacuzzi jets full force. He sighed in delight as he settled into the tub, where he lounged for over an hour. He slowly got out of the tub and dried himself in an enormous, incredibly soft bath sheet, which he had hung on an electrically heated towel bar earlier. He then swathed himself in a rich white satin bathrobe, slid his feet into a set of sheepskin slippers, and headed upstairs to his new bedroom. On checking the bedside clock, Greg saw that it was only 1:00 in the afternoon. He wondered if he should try to call his friends to let them know that he was now safely ensconced in their beach house. A surprisingly strong wave of sleepiness, however, made him decide to postpone doing so until later in the day. He thereupon knelt down by the bedside and gave heartfelt thanks for this unexpectedly rich safe haven, then doffed his robe and slid between the rich satin sheets, falling asleep just moments after his head touched the pillow. As he slept, Greg dreamed that he was walking up and down the beach on a warm, sunny day. As he did so, he noticed, to his astonishment, that every muscle in his body was growing. With every step he took, he was getting bigger—taller—stronger. His skin, which before had been a sickly, pasty white, gradually morphed to a gorgeous golden tan in color. His hair was growing, too—longer, thicker, ful-ler, richer, shinier, softer, and silkier every minute. His already cute face became even cuter—prettier—handsomer—sexier—with a perfectly-shaped nose, high cheekbones, and lips that were growing big-ger and fuller and poutier and more kissable, until finally he became what could only be called the ulti-mate beach pretty boy. As he now turned and walked back toward the beach house, his stride changed slightly, becoming more and more the swaggering strut of a full-blown bodybuilder. The pace of his muscle growth now quick-ened, while his gonads now swelled to a size and power and potency he had never even dreamed of. By the time he reached the beach house, Greg had morphed into what most of his peers would have re-ferred to as a "muscle freak"--and Greg revelled in that realization. So much so, in fact, that as the dream came to an end, Greg experienced by far the most powerful orgasm of his life, pumping out what seemed like gallon after gallon after gallon of his male essence. As his "wet dream" finally tapered off, Greg's sapphire-blue eyes flickered open. He flushed with em-barassment as he realized that he was lying in a huge puddle of his own semen. He promptly flung the satin comforter to one side, then jumped to his feet. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of himself in the large 3-way mirror that stood to one side of the bed. His mouth fell open, and he stiffened in astonish-ment as he realized that at least part of his dream had come true, and that he now actually was a full-fledged muscle freak. Even his hair had grown every bit as big, as long, and as rich as he had dreamed it had. To top it all off, his skin was now an even more beautiful golden tan than it had been in his dream! Greg shook his head in utter wonderment, then realized he still had some cleaning up to do. He there-upon pulled the soiled satin sheets and pillowcases off his bedding, then went downstairs to the alcove where the washer-dryer sat waiting. He loaded the machine, then began measuring out the appropriate amounts of detergent, bleach, and fabric softener, which he then added to the proper dispensers. As he did so, Greg noticed a brand name on the packages that he had heard of, but had never seen before: “Nu-Yu.” Greg's pulse quickened. He had read about the Nu-Yu company online. They had recently been under fire from a number of government agencies for their extravagant claims. The resulting combined law-suit had gone all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court—and the company had won! In a stunning unani-mous decision, the Court had overruled the various government agencies, couching their decision in language that was so strong, so unequivocal, so decisive, that even the Attorney General of the United States had publicly admitted defeat. The memory prompted Greg to check the labels of all the other cleaning aids and toiletries he had used. Sure enough, they were all labeled, “Nu-Yu.” In fact, every cleaning aid and toiletry in the entire beach house carried the “Nu-Yu” label. On a hunch, Greg examined the labels of the bubble bath, the soap, and the shampoo and conditioner he had recently used a little more closely. The soap and bubble bath both bore a designation of “Ex-treme Beach Muscle,” while the shampoo and conditioner were labeled “Extreme Glam Rock Big Hair.” Greg promptly grinned from ear to ear as he digested the labels' implications. Then, realizing that he needed to clean himself up as well as the bed sheets and pillowcases, he removed his underwear (which had somehow enlarged itself to accommodate his new size) and added it to the washload. After starting the machine, Greg went back to his bedroom to fetch fresh underwear, as well as the satin bath-robe he had worn earlier. Then, hanging the huge bath sheet on the towel heater once more, the young giant took another bath, being especially careful to wash his newly-enlarged gonads. As he did so, an incredible feeling of pleasure and exultation came over the young muscle giant, for he realized that his muscles were growing even larger and more powerful, while his hair was growing into what could only be called a super lion's mane, towering more than a foot beyond the top of his head, then rippling down in super-luxuriant, coal-black waves over his rapidly-swelling chest, shoulders, and yard-wide back, fi-nally terminating at the bottom of his now medicine ball-sized calves! As the now teen muscle super-giant got out of the tub and dried himself off, he realized that not even such big-haired rock legends as Bill Kaulitz of Tokio Hotel and the 90's rock group Nitro would be able to match his hair in length, volume, or for sheer beauty. After putting on deodorant and donning his newly super-sized underwear, on impulse Greg decided to look for some makeup. After all, he thought, since he now possessed tresses worthy of any glam rock megastar, why not complete the look? Checking the vanity top, for the first time Greg noticed a wide selection of unisex cosmetics, as well as shaving cream, after shave, and cologne, all of which bore the Nu-Yu label. There were even a Nu-Yu toothbrush and toothpaste and mouthwash! Despite his still-increasing size, Greg found that he was easily able to shave, brush his teeth, and put on a selection of cosmetics that amplified and magnified his “pretty boy” good looks and sex appeal until they were almost unbearable. As he headed back upstairs, Greg suddenly realized that his new abode had somehow modified itself to accommodate his now super-giant status. He shook his head in wonder as he re-entered the bedroom, carrying a load of satin sheets and pillowcases to replace the ones he had soiled earlier. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the now “California Super-King” mattress was undamaged, despite the volume of his earlier ejaculation. After putting the replacement linens on his bed, Greg took a good look at himself in the big 3-way mir-ror that stood next to the closet door. He was genuinely shocked to see how enormous his muscles had become. By this time, his pectoral muscles had actually grown to the point where they were within an inch of his nose, while his traps were up to the tops of his ears. His neck had been all but swallowed up by his shoulder muscles, including his deltoids, which were as big as medicine balls. His biceps were also medicine ball sized, while his triceps were at least half again as big! His thighs were each the size of a 1200-pound giant pumpkin, while both his calves and his forearms were slightly larger than medi-cine balls. His glutes were about the same size as his calves, giving him the biggest, tightest, sexiest-looking “bubble butt” he had ever seen. Even the muscles of his face were bulging with power, yet in such a way as to maintain, and even enhance, his “pretty boy” looks. The incredibly deep cleavage be-tween his massive pecs enabled Greg to breathe, talk, and eat without any difficulty. In fact, despite his incredibly massive musculature, Greg found that he could move around with surprising ease and flexi-bility. He was also astounded to to see that his each of his testicles was now the size of a giant canta-loupe, while his now “ultra-mega-SUPERmanhood” was now a whopping 14 inches long and 7 inches around—and that was in its relaxed state! Greg swaggered over to the closet to see if there was anything he might be able to wear, given his now-enormous size. To his astonishment—and relief—he found several dozen pirate and poet shirts, over a dozen pairs of what could only be called “pirate pants,” plus several pairs of buccaneer boots, super-wide belts, sashes, enormously wide-brimmed “pirate king” hats, and even several 17th-century-style “commander's coats.” He also found several satin sharkskin business suits in both single-breasted and double-breasted styles (all with wide-leg slacks!). While all the suits were in an unmistakably high-fashion style, he noted that some of the suit coats were waist-length, while the rest were regular-length. To complete the wardrobe, there were several pairs of ankle boots, some with stacked heels and plat-form soles, as well as a selection of neck chains, earrings, pendants, and other jewelry. Greg was agog to behold such a luxurious wardrobe, and he was surprised to find so many pirate-type items in the closet. On giving the matter a little thought, however, Greg realized that, at least for now, he was living in a seaside environment, and so it made sense for him to dress accordingly. So the young super-giant swaggered into the closet and selected a white silk gauze pirate shirt with sleeves that actually dwarfed even his huge arms, a pair of black rayon pirate pants whose legs all but swallowed up his enormous thighs and calves, a pair of thigh-high buccaneer boots in black patent leather with high stacked heels and thick platform soles, a 3-inch-wide black patent leather belt with a huge ring buckle, and a 4-inch-wide sash in royal purple satin. Checking the dresser that stood to the right of his 3-way mirror, Greg burst out laughing when, in addi-tion to a fine selection of over-the-calf hosiery, he found more than a dozen pairs of what could only be described as men's pantyhose! Then, remembering from one of his history classes that men had in fact worn stockings quite similar to pantyhose back in Elizabethan times, he cried out, “Well, why not?” He thereupon selected a pair of black silk pantyhose and put it on—and promptly experienced the erection of his life! It took several minutes, in fact, for Greg to calm down and thereby avoid yet another super-orgasm. Once he did, however, he quickly proceeded to put on the shirt, the pants, the belt, the sash, and finally the boots. Greg almost fainted as he looked over the final result of his efforts in his 3-way mirror. If there were any such thing as a “super-swashbuckler,” he decided, he surely qualified, especially with his rich, dark chocolate-brown tresses coming down to his ankles, both in front and in back. On impulse, he selected a rich burgundy velvet coat and the biggest, widest-brimmed “pirate king” hat he could find and added them to his outfit. The result was nothing short of staggering, both in looks and in sex appeal. Greg let out a positively thunderous laugh of exultation and exuberance as he once more preened himself in his 3-way mirror. He didn't just look like a “pirate king”--he looked and felt like a “pirate emperor!” Now that he was fully dressed—and then some!--Greg decided to let his benefactors know that he had taken them up on their kind offer to reside in the beach house. He thereupon powered up the computer, which of course took several minutes to get going, especially in view of the number of system updates that needed to be downloaded and installed. While all of that was going on, Greg decided to go down to the kitchen and brew himself a pot of hot tea, especially in view of the fact that it was cold and raw outside. As he did so, he spotted several bottles of food supplements in one of the kitchen cabinets. He was not surprised to find that they too carried the “Nu-Yu” label (including, of course, the customary and mandatory FDA disclaimers, the sight of which caused Greg to snort with amusement). As he looked over the labels of the supplement bottles, he saw that one was labeled, “Extreme Super Intelligence,” the second read, “Extreme Wealth,” and the third read, “Extreme Musical Ability.” After reading the directions on each label, he took one—and ONLY one—tablet out of each container. (The directions warned that taking more than one would render the supplement useless, especially if more than one supplement were to be taken at the same time.) Since the directions indicated that each sup-plement was to be taken on an empty stomach, he filled a water glass, then took each of the pills, one at a time, washing each pill down with at least two swallows of water. Within a matter of minutes, the supplements began to take effect. In five minutes, Greg sensed that his intellectual capacities had increased to the point that his already high IQ had skyrocketed beyond any measurable level. In ten minutes, Greg's net worth had shot up to over a trillion dollars, and the beach house had morphed into a mega-mansion that even the Sultan of Brunei would envy. Lastly, by the time fifteen minutes had elapsed, a huge pipe organ had become part of the walls and ceiling of the beach house, and manuscripts for several new organ symphonies had appeared on the solid gold coffee table in the mansion's huge new music room. As the transforming effects of the supplements tapered off, Greg suddenly noticed that there were jew-eled rings on every finger of both of his massive hands, while his outfit had become at least a hundred times more lavish and extravagant than all of the legendary Liberace's richest costumes put together. Shaking his head in wonder, the young trillionaire made his way back to the bedroom, now enlarged to the size of a small house. He was amused to notice that the computer he had turned on just half an hour before was only now finishing up downloading and installing the system updates it had begun working on when it had first been powered up. Before he could even sit down at the desk, however, the computer, having finally completed its soft-ware updating, suddenly began updating its hardware as well, finally morphing into what Greg knew had to be the hottest, fastest, most advanced luxury gaming computer system on the entire planet. He once more shook his massive, gorgeous young head in wonder as he finally seated himself and began the task of contacting his benefactors and letting them know what had happened to him. Within five minutes, Greg had composed an email to his benefactor, David Johannsen, thanking them for their incredible generosity, and briefly describing the changes in himself and the beach house. Within another five minutes, he received a reply, telling him that the beach house was now his to keep, along with its contents (all of which, of course were now greatly augmented in luxury and value due to Greg's taking the “Extreme Wealth” supplement only a short time earlier). The message also stated that David, along with his twin sister, Jenna (Greg's long-time girlfriend) and his own girlfriend, Ruth Bohr, would be coming to visit him shortly. Needless to say, Greg promptly acknowledged the message. He then logged off the Internet and printed out a report listing both the hardware and the software that were now installed on the system. Greg whistled in admiration as he looked over the listing. All of his favorite computer games, as well as the latest in multimedia production software and his favorite glam rock music videos and audio tracks, were at his command. In addition, the system was equipped with full 7.1 surround sound capability, as evidenced by the numerous satellite speakers positioned around the room, to say nothing of the massive subwoofer in one corner of the room. He also had a full selection of cable TV channels at his disposal for viewing on the big 50-inch monitor on the desk in front of him. By this time, Greg realized that David and his party would be arriving shortly. He was about to turn off the computer when he saw a notice on the screen that more updates were being downloaded and in-stalled. With a snort of amusement, he arose from the desk and left his new toy to augment its capabili-ties still further. As he did so, Greg felt an enormous surge of increasing power and strength rushing upward through his body. He felt himself growing taller as well, and he somehow sensed that he was now at a height of well over 7 feet. His already massive gonads swelled up even bigger, creating an obscene bulge at the front of his pirate pants, which were now of heavy black silk satin. Thankfully, his trousers promptly enlarged themselves just enough to correct the problem. As he made his way down the stairs toward his now-massive front door, his hair began to sparkle from the presence of gold, silver, and platinum dust, as well as powdered precious and semi-precious stones in every color of the rainbow. Although Greg was ecstatic about his now ankle-length tresses, he still could not help thinking that having his hair styled in long, big, brawny-looking curls might actually be more fitting, given his greatly-modified appearance. As if in direct response, Greg's hair began curling itself exactly as he had envisioned. Even when the curling process concluded, however, his hair was still long enough for him to sit on! Just before he opened the door, Greg pulled his hair back such that it all fell over his incredibly broad back and shoulders. He then fluffed up the numerous rows and layers of ruffles and lace on his “mega-pirate” shirt, which was now of cloth-of silver, and straightened his massive “commander's coat,” which was now of cloth-of-gold. He then opened the massive door, only to be confronted by three of the biggest, most lavishly-clad young super-giants he had ever seen. Quite clearly, David, Ruth, and Jenna had had given themselves the same “Nu-Yu” treatment that he had. The very sight of his three transformed friends enraptured him, as he threw his gargantuan arms around each of them in turn, es-pecially Jenna, whom he favored with what could only be described as an “ultra-mega-maxi-SUPER kiss”--a kiss that kept going deeper and deeper and deeper, until at last Greg simply had to break it off in order to breathe. David had brought the necessary documents for Greg to sign in order to formalize and legalize the transfer of the property from himself to Greg, an action which Greg promptly carried out with all man-ner of flourishes. David then gave the documents to a lavishly-clad young servant who was standing outside the front door, with orders to forward them to the proper authorities. Even as he did so, much to Greg's delight, his best friend's outfit became even more lavish, indicating an increase in David's net worth. He joyfully covered his best friend's face with kisses, thanking him again and again for his in-credible generosity. David, for his part, did the same to Greg, thanking him for his love and friendship, which had begun when they were both in kindergarten, and was now reaching its apotheosis. The culmination of these events took place two days later, when the two young couples were formally married in Las Vegas. Local newspapers described the affair as “the most lavish double wedding in Las Vegas history.” Every member of Greg and David's graduating class was present for the ceremony, all of them gorgeously dressed for the occasion. They all went wild when Greg announced that he was arranging full-expense-paid scholarships for each and every one of them all the way through their PhD studies, should any of them want to go that far. The reception and concert that followed featured the hottest glam rock groups and singers from the 1980's, all of whom wore outfits so extravagant that even Adam Ant shook his head in wonder. As might be expected, the two young “MEGA-couples” then proceeded to consummate their unions in the most luxurious honeymoon suites Las Vegas had to offer. They then returned to the beach house, now a “mega-mansion,” where the whole affair had begun. The two couples had decided to share the house, for they wanted to live together always. Despite the staggering wealth and muscle they all now possessed, the four young “mega-muscle-teens” were humble and grateful, and they all recognized the enormous responsibility that came with such blessings. As they made the return journey to their new home, they all prayed sincerely for God's guidance and help as they began their new lives of muscle and luxury together.
  18. Here are the next two installments of my story, I hope you like them as much as I enjoyed writing them! Parts 1-3: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/6460-dont-stop-parts-1-3/ PART 4: While Andrew was getting off on his improved physique, Nicole was wondering if she was moving too quickly. She hadn’t counted on him getting taller and more muscular so quickly, but she couldn’t deny that she wasn’t getting off on his improvements too. “Especially,” she though, “his biggest improvement.” She couldn’t stop thinking about how great their sex was and about how much more he was filling her up now than the night before, and she started to get wet. Her hands almost automatically drifted to her dripping pussy and started massaging herself. In almost no time she was moaning and gyrating thinking about how much more Andrew will be changing in just a few hours… Andrew had started masturbating almost as soon as he threw the ruler down on the bathroom floor. His dick felt so much thicker in his hand than before and so much more powerful. He ran his hands up and down his abs feeling the small ridges that he hoped would soon get deeper. He cupped his right bicep with his free left hand feeling how round and hard it was. He could feel it flexing and unflexing as his stroking got faster and harder, thinking about how it could get so much bigger if he started working out more. And just like that he felt a freight train rolling up through his balls and abs until he came all over his bathroom mirror. This wasn’t a small load either. This may have been the biggest load of his young life as he shot six thick streams of milky white cum all over the sink. He almost felt embarrassed that felt as good if not better than the sex he had just had with Nicole a few hours ago, but he chalked that up to having a bigger penis now. Just as he finished cumming he heard Nicole gasp and scream from his bedroom. He ran to her thinking something was going horribly wrong, but when he reached the bed he saw that she was just masturbating and had just orgasmed. In her sex-crazed state she grabbed his still hard dick and pulled him into bed, threw him down, and pulled of his pajama bottoms. She needed to feel his bigger dick in her mouth now, and she knew that she could make it bigger too. Andrew was having the time of his life. Just two days ago he had been a shorter, fatter, less confident student who had never had sex before in his life. Now he had the girl of his dreams pulling his pants off to give him his fourth blowjob in just two days. He had the added bonus of having just cum a few minute earlier, so he lasted a lot longer than usual. He was riding high on endorphins and starting to fall madly in love with Nicole. Everything was going well for him, and he finally felt truly happy for the first time in his life. And with that beautiful thought, he orgasmed. It was so powerful and thick he was afraid he might drown Nicole in his jizz, but she was a trooper and greedily sucked down every sweet drop. Andrew started to sit up once he felt his orgasm finally subside, but Nicole pushed him down again and sexily said, “Oh I’m not done yet, I’m still thirsty.” Andrew was only too happy to comply, although he did think it was a little strange that he could get hard so soon after cumin twice in just a little under a half hour. But once his cock started plumping up in her mouth again, he definitely stopped worrying and started basking in the pleasure she was providing him. The couple only got to sleep an hour later after Nicole had finished blowing Andrew for the fourth time. It seemed to him like she was addicted to his dick, but he had no idea about her ulterior motives. He just knew that he felt completely drained and would need to drink a gallon of water the next day to rehydrate his balls after the epic cumming he had just done. He knew it was 4:30 am, but he didn’t have class the next day, so he turned off his alarm and decided to sleep in the next day. Nicole fell asleep next to her soon to be improved boyfriend wondering if four doses in one hour was too much, but she realized that what was done was done. She was too committed to stop now. PART 5: Andrew woke up, even more peacefully than the day before. He rolled over and saw that Nicole had already left. He reasoned that she probably had to get to lab early, but he was still somewhat disappointed that he didn’t wake up to her gently sucking his dick like the day before. He rolled over on to his other side to check just how late he had slept in. He was shocked to see that it was already 2:00pm. He jumped out of bed, ran to the bathroom, and was about to jump into the shower when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in his bathroom mirror. The first thing he noticed was that his mirror was still caked in his dry cum from last night, but the next thing he notices was that he had transformed even more than he had noticed the night before. He was muscular now. Not bodybuilder muscular, but he could easily get hired as a fitness model by any supplement company. His pecs were round and firm and protruded an inch from his body. He tried flexing them and was surprised when they bounced way more than he thought they could. Looking above his pecs he noticed that his traps had grown significantly and that his neck was almost as wide as his head. His shoulders were so broad he was worried that he might have some trouble going through narrow doors now, and they were large enough that he could easily make out the heads of his delts. Turning his attention to his arms he noticed a large vein crawling over the top of his much bigger bicep. He did a double bicep pose in the mirror and could see nice clean split heads in his biceps. He could also tell that his arms had gotten to be at least 16 inches around (although he made a mental note to actually measure them later). His triceps looked swollen and hung from his arms like fleshy horseshoes. His forearms had also gotten much larger even though they were pretty large to begin with because of Andrew’s masturbation habits. Below his pecs lay a perfect cobblestone six pack with deep ridges just like he had hoped for the previous night. He flexed his stomach hard and could almost make out the beginnings of his last two abs. Even though he was proud of his six pack, deep down he didn’t think it was enough; he wanted his eight pack to show. His legs had finally made considerable gains and now looked thick and powerful. His calves had the beginnings of a strong diamond shape and made his look like he never skipped leg day. His upper legs had a width and thickness to them that made Andrew realize that he could easily be called “thunder thighs” and it wouldn’t be sarcastic. Turning his attention away from his sexy muscles (“Whoa,” Andrew thought, “did I just call myself sexy?”), he noticed he was much hairier than before. His face a nice even coating of five o’clock shadow. He ran his hands up and down his cheeks and felt just how bristly and manly he felt because of it. “I can probably grow a beard now,” he thought proudly. His chest was also covered in a light even coating of soft dark hairs that lead to a confident treasure trail leading to his crotch. His legs were also very hairy now, covered in thick wiry hair that was very noticeable “and very manly,” he thought. He was probably one of the hairiest Asian men that he knew at Cornell, but he still had nothing on some of the White guys who even as freshmen had sported thick full beards and chest hair. “Maybe soon…” he thought. As he looked down at his legs he noticed that the floor seemed farther away than usual. His growth spurt from the night before had dramatically increased his height. Like most kids, Andrew’s mom had kept a height chart on his bathroom doorframe to mark how much he had grown. His mom insisted that he continue the tradition while away from college even though he had almost fully completed puberty by the time he got to Cornell, and as expected, he had only grown a quarter inch in four years. However, this height chart now came in handy as he could easily see that he had grown significantly overnight. Getting out his tape measure he determined that he had grown to be 5’ 9”, an increase of four inches in the past two days alone. He was finally within average height range for men in the U.S. and well above average height for Asian men. All of his changes started to make Andrew aroused which drew his attention to his final change he hadn’t noticed because he was still wearing his now too short pajama bottoms. He almost cried tears of joy after pulling them down to his ankles and looking at his penis. It was magnificent. His ruler told him that he was now 4.5 inches flaccid, but his cock didn’t stay soft for long. It soon jumped to attention and ended up at its new rock hard length of 7 inches with a girth of 5 inches. He could hardly fit his whole hand around it and noticed with great happiness that he could almost fit a second hand on top of the first. All of a sudden Andrew realized that his life had transformed into something perfect and his endorphins rushed. He grabbed his bottle of lotion and begin furious masturbating to his own image. Pictures of Nicole and of their sex flashed in front of his eyes, but he was mostly focuses on the sexy facial hair, the beautiful biceps, his thick thighs, and his big cock. It took him no time to cum, having the greatest orgasm of his life (a feat which he seemed to be achieving every day now). His orgasm lasted for a minute, and his dick never stopped shooting thick ropes of spunk coating every surface in the room. After what seemed like an eternity, Andrew regained sensibility and decided to take a shower. He could clean up the bathroom later. However, his dick had plans of its own and decided not to soften at all. “Well, I guess I have no choice,” Andrew said with a stupid grin on his face. His shower lasted four times longer than normal and he masturbated an extra three times, each time cumming harder than the last. After stepping out of the shower he returned to his bed where he continued his epic jerk off session. He didn’t even look at the clock, he just kept going and going and going. He finally had to stop when he realized he needed to take another shower to clean the cum off of him that his Kleenexes couldn’t get. Looking at his clock now he realized that three hours had passed. Taking about 10 minutes to cum each time, Andrew then estimated that he had just masturbated 18 times in a row without stopping or running out of semen. He knew this wasn’t normal and this shouldn’t be happening, but he didn’t want to stop.
  19. Hey everyone! This is my first story, but I've been reading the work on this forum for years now. I was finally inspired to write my own story, so I hope you all like it! These are the first three parts in what may end up being a long story, so let me know if you have any suggestions for directions to take in the next parts. There isn't any growth in the first part, but stick with it, this story is going to get juicy... Don’t Stop PART 1: Andrew woke up from his nap feeling refreshed and ready for his date that night. It had been weeks before he had finally worked up the courage to ask Nicole out, but he knew he had to give it a try before it was too late. They were both in their final year at Cornell and were at the top of their class, Andrew majoring in biology with a focus on human physiology and Nicole majoring in toxicology. Andrew was practically sweating out of his skin earlier this morning during biology lab, but all of his nervous planning paid off. She had said yes, and not just any yes. She seemed genuinely happy and excited to go out with him. Her excitement was only matched by his relief. With all the thoughts of Nicole running through his head, Andrew understandably had a “little” problem in his boxers, so he decided to take care of it before picking Nicole up. He pulled off his shorts and threw them hastily on the floor letting his four inch dick stand up proudly from his lap. Andrew knew he was under the national average in penis size, but as a Chinese man he had grown up accustomed to people making fun of his size and ancestry. Personally, his size didn’t really bother him too much, but he had always wondered what it would be like to be bigger. Not only that, but Andrew was not the tallest or most fit person at Cornell. He was only 5’ 5” tall and had just the slightest hint of a tummy bulging out from under his T-shirt. He had very little facial hair, and almost no body hair to speak of either. Despite his mental acuity and high academic achievements, his physique had always held him back from ever asking a girl out. Except for until earlier this morning. Although he had never had sex with a girl before, he had no shortage of sexual fantasies to play in his head as he was jerking off. Kissing Nicole at her doorstep, coming up for “coffee”, undressing her, seeing a vagina and breasts in person for the first time, sucking on one of her nipples, penetrating her with his rock hard… and with that Andrew exploded all over his sheets. He couldn’t believe how intense his orgasm was and how much he had cum (much more than ever before). He could have lay there for hours basking in his post-orgasm bliss, but turning over he noticed that it was already almost 7pm. He quickly jumped in the shower, cleaned himself off, grabbed his car keys, and sprinted out the door. He made it to Nicole’s apartment just in time. She walked out of the house looking so good Andrew thought his eyes would literally pop out of their sockets. A backless dress, stilettos, and a nice long leg slit made Andrew wonder how long he would be able to hide his erection. “You look amazing,” he said to Nicole as she got in the passenger’s seat. “You’re not looking too bad yourself,” she replied with just the slightest hint of a wink. “So where are you taking me tonight?” “I thought we could go to a movie and then grad dinner if that’s ok with you,” Andrew stammered nervously. “I mean, we can definitely do something else if you don’t want that. Or whatever, I don’t really care,” Andrew finished with a whimper. Nicole of course loved this scared puppy demeanor, it was what had made her interested in Andrew for the past year and a half. “Movie and dinner sound great!” she said. And it was great. They went to an old classic movie theater and watched Casablanca which he thought was great but she thought was a little too cheesy compared to the modern style of movies. Then they went to a little French restaurant where all the cooking was done by two old French grandmothers who were experts at making boeuf bourguignon. They realized that they actually had a lot in common aside from a mutual physical attraction and ended up leaving the restaurant holding each other’s hands. Finally, they ended up in front of Nicole’s doorstep. Andrew was both terrified and extremely excited to get his first kiss. He leaned in ever so gently and kissed her on the cheek. After a brief silence, Nicole turned to him and said, “Why did you stop?” The two then kissed passionately, sparks flying and fireworks dancing behind their eyes. After what seemed like an eternity Nicole spoke up again, “It’s a bit chilly outside right now, do you want to come up for some coffee?” Andrew’s jack off session started playing through his head again and he found himself thickening to his full four inches. “Definitely. I don’t want this night to stop.” PART 2: Nicole and Andrew couldn’t keep their hands off of each other as they ran up the stairs to Nicole’s bedroom. They tried to be quiet so as not to wake up Nicole’s roommates, but their moans and groans could not be stifled. They made it to the top of the stairs, burst through her bedroom door, and collapsed on her bed. It took no time for Andrew to remove Nicole’s shirt and bra, but it did take him a while to stop marveling at the first pair of boobs he’d ever seen. Nicole meanwhile pulled down Andrew’s shorts and underwear allowing her to stare and Andrew’s erection, the first erection she had ever seen. The two virgins wasted little time trying to throw off those titles as Nicole smoothly guided Andrew’s throbbing cock to her wet pussy. Andrew’s fantasy was finally coming true. He could feel every glorious second of his first penetration, her velvet walls enveloping him in a feeling of utter pleasure. It took everything he had not to cum right there, but he managed to hold on and start thrusting. Andrew’s thrusts were understandably weak and inexperienced, but he soon got into the swing of things. He was able to notice what Nicole liked and what she didn’t like as much (although to be honest she was enjoying everything a lot) and adjust his thrusting style to make her moan more and more. After a minute or so Andrew couldn’t hold it in anymore. He could feel the best moment of his life building in his balls, churning up through his core, and eventually erupting out of him like a primal roar. He screamed as he emptied his balls into Nicole which in turn triggered her orgasm. The two then collapsed on top of each other, panting furiously, silly grins spread wide across their faces, virgins no more. Andrew was on fire. His boner showed no signs of going away, and Nicole was only too happy to help him out. In his post-orgasmic haze he hardly even noticed her putting on some chap stick before taking his whole cock in her mouth in one go. “Oh baby my dick is going crazy!” he screamed. Her response was limited because his dick was in her throat now, but she managed to look up at him and wink in her special subtle way. Andrew continued to moan as Nicole went to work on his rock hard shaft and as her throat massaged his sensitive head. He lasted for a surprisingly long time (but still only a few minutes) before he managed to choke out, “I’m cumming!” He poured his load down her throat, and she greedily drank it down with no problems. This orgasm was so much more intense for Andrew than the first one. It was so intense in fact that he passed out soon after the biggest ejaculation of his life. As he drifted off into sleep he remembered thinking about how rude it was that he didn’t go down on Nicole, but those thoughts were soon replaced with dreams and fantasies replaying the past half hour all night long. The last thought he had before succumbing to sleep’s welcoming embrace was, “I hope this perfect feeling never stops.” PART 3: Andrew woke up from his perfect dream to the perfect view. Nicole had woken up a few minutes before him and had started to massage his morning wood to get it ready for some morning sex. Andrew couldn’t believe that he had had sex last night. He woke up feeling very refreshed and yet super horny. He also felt like his dick was about to explode out of its skin. As soon as Nicole sat on top of him and guided his cock into her open hole he forgot all about how weird it was that his dick felt bigger and instead started to ride the towering waves of pleasure he was experiencing. He came with a roar just like the night before, but this time he felt like he shot by far the biggest load of his life into Nicole’s quivering vagina. Unlike the previous night, Andrew decided to reciprocate the oral sex Nicole had given him. This was the closest he had ever been to a vagina, and he relished every second of it. She tasted so sweet and smelled so good he wondered if she had added any perfumed product around her vagina to make it taste like that. He felt like he could keep eating her out for hours, and by the sounds of her intense moans and gasps it sounded like she could go forever. However, after about fifteen minutes, Nicole’s alarm went off signaling that it was time to get ready for class. She hopped in the shower leaving Andrew to bask in the sunlight streaming in from the window… Andrew woke up to a sudden pain in his balls. He looked over the blanket to find a larger tent than he used to pitch. He ripped the blankets off the bed and stared at his dick. “There’s no way it’s still just four inches long,” Andrew mused to himself. It looked to be at least an inch longer than it used to be and maybe a hair thicker, although he wasn’t sure about any of it. “Maybe a trick of the late morning light,” he thought, although he secretly hoped he actually had grown. As he got up from the bed he noticed he felt a little off balance and dizzy. “That’s strange,” he thought out loud, “I thought I was finished growing taller years ago.” That wasn’t the only thing that had changed though. He also noticed he no longer had a chubby stomach. In fact, he could almost see the faintest outlines of his abs. Lastly, he noticed dustings of hair on his legs and the barest hints of a mustache coming in. “Finally,” he said, “I haven’t been able to get any facial hair no matter how many growth products I’ve tried.” He chalked up his increased masculinity to the fact the he had just lost his virginity and that his testosterone must be pumping in overdrive. Somewhat concerned but happy with his new appearance, Andrew decided to go home, change, and head off to class. He had a hard time focusing on anything though and spent most of the time texting with Nicole. She was only too happy to text back: A: Last night was fun right?! N: LOL yeah totally. And this morning A: Best alarm clock ever hahaha. After waiting a few minutes: A: How would you feel about round three tonight after dinner? My place? N: Sounds delicious. I’ll be over as soon as I’m done in lab! A: Awesome, I’m thinking about cooking sausage for dinner ;P And so with that Andrew ran to the supermarket to grab the ingredients he needed to make the best sausage paella Nicole had ever tasted. He also grabbed a pack of regular condoms and some lube (just in case she was more adventurous than he had hoped for). Dinner was delicious, and afterward they decided to relax and watch a movie together. Except that by the end of the first thirty minutes both of them knew that the other didn’t really want to finish the movie. Nicole stood up and straddled Andrew catching him a bit off guard and firmly kissing him. After a few minutes of making out Andrew asked, “What flavor chap stick is that?” “Oh do you like it? Some of the grad students in my lab are focused on making entirely non-toxic cosmetics and they said I could take a tube to try!” Nicole replied before diving back in for another kiss. Truth be told, Andrew really did love the taste of the chap stick and wanted more of it. Kissing didn’t last long though before the couple decided to ramp things up. Andrew ripped off Nicole’s shirt, happily surprised she wasn’t wearing a bra. Nicole in turn completely undressed Andrew and admired his new masculine traits. “Wow, I thought you had a little bit of a tummy last night,” she teased. “And the leg hair, I’m a huuuge fan. Emphasis on the huge which by the way…” she said looking aright at his fully erect cock. She could tell it was bigger than last night, and she needed it inside of her right away. She started sucking him off and could tell he was enjoying it by how loud and frequent his groans were becoming. For someone who had never given a blowjob before last night she was very talented. The pleasure soon became too much for Andrew to bear, and he shot at least five times down her expectant throat. He was just getting started. Andrew quickly led her to his bedroom, and Nicole threw him on the bed. Her pussy was on fire and it was not going to be satisfied until she and Andrew shared an orgasm. He mounted her and rapidly thrust his newly grown cock deep into her pussy. He could feel he had grown a little bit, the way her vagina felt tighter and the way his head felt bigger and more sensitive. He began jackhammering quickly in and out of her, pulling out completely before each thrust to feel the maximum effect of continuous penetration. Nicole meanwhile was just mouthing “oh god yes, ohhh so good” after having screamed so much she literally became speechless. Andrew on the other hand felt like a real man for the first time in his life. He grunted powerfully and felt completely in control. She had already orgasmed and he was proud that he had held off for so long already. However, just as Nicole was nearing her second orgasm, Andrew felt his balls begin to tighten and felt the familiar rush of energy through his core. And then they came together and it was beautiful. Nicole’s sex was undulating so much Andrew almost fainted from the amount of stimulation his head was experiencing. It seemed to last forever (and they both wanted it to last forever too), but all good thing must end eventually. They finally stopped convulsing and collapsed into each other’s arms. Both were too exhausted for words, but they cuddled together until they peacefully fell asleep. Andrew woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and almost tripped over his own feet trying to get there. He finally made it to his mirror and turned on the bathroom light. “What the fuck is happening to me?!” he gasped. Staring back at him from the mirror was still Andrew, just an improved version. His mustache had thickened and was becoming darker and more noticeable. He even had several dark hairs on his chin and a few thin dark hairs beginning to sprout on his chest near his nipples. Looking down he noticed that his shirt was fitting him better so he removed it to find out what was hiding underneath. He gasped again after seeing his newly defined muscles. His pecs were still pretty small, but there was a noticeable separation between the two and they protruded a bit from his body when he stood up straight. His arms were looking pretty good too, and when he flexed them he could see small golf ball sized mounds where he knew his biceps and triceps were. He also definitely had abs now, although they were the kind of abs that skinny people have because they have no body fat. Looking past his abs he could see that his thighs and calves had also bulked up, but not to anything truly spectacular. It merely looked like he enjoyed running every now and then. But the thing that really shocked him and made him gasp for a third time was what he saw when he took off his underwear. His flaccid penis which had previously only measured two inches long was definitely bigger. He wanted to know exactly how much bigger, so he snuck back into his bedroom to grad a ruler from his desk and then returned to the bathroom to measure himself. Three inches soft. He was overjoyed, and his dick began to harden thinking about his new growth spurt. He began stroking himself to reach full erection so he could measure just big he had become. Once he was as hard as an iron rod he found that he was five and a half inches long. Now remember, Andrew was a biology major with a focus on human physiology, so he knew this shouldn’t be possible. However, he wasn’t thinking about how illogical this all was or how improbable these changes were. He wasn’t even thinking about why this was happening. All he could think about was that he didn’t want this growth to stop.
  20. This was spawned by something that I have just written. Back in 2012 I wrote a version of "Around the World in Eighty Days" where I was able to take part in the story. When it came to rescuing Aouda from the worshippers of Kali I blindly agree to let Passepartout hypnotise me into becoming a Victorian Hero. He does so again, in my version of "Journey to the Centre of the Earth", where I clearly make an impression on Axel Lidenbrock (Otto's nephew) so that at the end of the story he stands up to his uncle and announces that he's going to marry his ward. In the third in the series based on "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea" I find that Axel has written a pulp fiction magazine all about the Victorian Hero and this story is meant to be how that magazine's first edition would have looked like. Chapter One "Please, hurry my man, I fear that this storm is getting worse!" As the coachman cracked the whip carrying the carriage of the Lady Southam, the storm that seemed to have been following them all the way from Coventry increased in intensity. For Lady Southam, it was the worse possible time to travel. She was heavily pregnant with Lord Southam's first child, a possible heir to the title, and although her doctor had permitted her travelling to their home in the heart of the Warwickshire countryside, the storm that was battering them seemed to appear out of nowhere. Suddenly, without any warning, a streak of green filled the sky and a rock, the size of a melon, crashed into the road in front of them exploding and scaring the horses so much that it took every ounce of strength by the coachman and his skills to prevent the carriage from toppling over. Jumping down, he rushed to his passenger and said "Are you all right, my lady!". Lady Southam nodded and his concerned alleviated, the coachman investigated the now smoking hole in the road. As he peered into the hole, the rock at the bottom of it was still glowing green and gingerly fishing it out with a handkerchief he tossed it from hand to hand until it was cool enough to handle. Presenting it to Her Ladyship, he resumed his place and avoiding the hole in the road made top speed to Southam Hall. Lord Southam was overjoyed to hear of his wife's safe arrival and to thank the coachman for his efforts, he presented him with a golden sovereign (more than the coachman would earn in a year). The coachman bowed and as he returned to his coach, he looked at the sovereign in delight but as he put it in his pocket and chuckled to himself he felt different. He felt stronger, stronger than the time when he wrestled Big Brute, the county's biggest all in fighting champion. As he cracked the whip and headed back to Leamington, his mind started to fill with wonders beyond his wildest imagination. He was inventing things that would revolutionise the world, he would become an engineer and bring his family out of the poverty they had been stuck in for centuries. As he roared with delight, his jacket started to bulge, he never thought for a moment that he would not be the only superman born that day.
  21. CONTENT REMOVED BY THE AUTHOR
  22. The Labours of Hugh By Chip Masterson For the Seigneur de M. “My God, what is that beast?” My master and I stood in awe as we watched a lone man carry an entire butt of beer on his back and gently drop it in place. You could hear it slosh - a thousand pounds of beer carried as lightly as a side of beef! But what looked like a man – or the absolute ideal of what a man could be – had the face of boy no older than I. His downy face looked untouched by a razor, yet the width of his shoulders rivaled every champion assembled here, with helmet-sized shoulders and chest muscles as thick as a man’s torso. His bare arms dwarfed my skinny legs, yet his waist, carved into grooves like a cathedral column, was flatter than mine. His legs were covered with several boar-hides stitched together, and with calves pushing them up like a giant’s fists. As he turned to leave, I could see he was so thick from the front edge of his chest to the highest peaks on his back, that if I were to stand with my back against his arm, his torso breadth would my shoulder-width. That back! A dozen crevices zigzagged among the humped cobbles and stony plateaus, undulating and transforming like a landscape in a dream. I pinched myself – I was awake. My master, Sir Alain, a knight of the royal court, had come to Chateaulin bearing the king’s congratulations to Count Houel on the birth of his second son. The Count was throwing a birth festival before hosting the folkmoot, and my master had entered the lists. He was speaking with the Marshal of the castle, Sir Geoff. Sir Geoff looked amused by our gawking. “That’s Hugh, one of my boys,” Sir Geoff explained. “He’s about the age of your boy here.” “Impossible!” Sir Alain sputtered. “I’ve seen quarry workers who couldn’t rival him for size!” “I rescued him after his parents exposed him in the woods,” Sir Geoff continued. “I soon discovered why – when he became impatient for food or cleaning, he smashed his crib to splinters with his tiny newborn fists. They feared raising a prodigy, but in some way, I felt commanded to care for him – I guessed then it was the voice of God, but now….” He paused, and changed course. “He’s very lonely – the other boys avoid him. He spends a great deal of time hunting alone in the forest.” “The Count allows a boy in the chase?” Sir Alain sustained shock after shock, and he hadn’t even mounted his steed yet. “The Count and all the farmers are grateful,” Sir Geoff explained. “Since he began entering the forest, we haven’t seen or heard a single wolf – it’s been years now. He eats like several men, and I can hardly increase his rations in front of the other boys, so he supplements his hunger with boars and other things he catches with his hands. The husbandmen even give him a portion of meat at every slaughter in thanks for his protection. It’s almost pagan,” Geoff added with a wry smile. “What a remarkable warrior he would be,” Sir Alain marveled, “if only he had a better station, and not born for the front line. Robert Guiscard could take all of Italy and drive Emperor Constantine into the arms of the Turks. But perhaps the work of a beast is a more fitting utilization of his unique – talents – after all. Providence is never wrong.” Sir Geoff looked at him sideways with his arms crossed, and said nothing. Soon we were preparing for the joust, a new form where, instead of a mass charge around the field, two knights face each other one-on-one and try not to get killed. I was nervous as a girl, though only King Philip could beat my master (though “beat” might not be a completely accurate description of what actually happened). My master was called against Sir Geoff and the knights rode out, the sunlight dancing off their shiny mail hauberks. They leveled their lances, and at the signal, charged. Almost immediately a strap on Sir Geoff’s saddle broke and he wobbled – but through his narrow visor, my master must not have noticed. Geoff couldn’t brace himself for a thrust and my master glanced a blow off his shoulder that sent Geoff spinning through the air and landing with a hearty smack. Everyone rose in silent suspense. My master had already turned about, still not realizing what had happened, not seeing see Geoff’s boys rush to his aid, . He began his parade – but a spur only jostled him in his saddle – his horse neighed but didn’t move. He kicked again but his mount’s effort to spring only resulting in it being pulled back into the air. My master dropped onto his back in the mud. Stunned, Alain looked up and saw Hugh holding his horse by the tail, fury etched into his handsome young face. “A strap broke – it wasn’t far, you should have stopped!” Hugh yelled – a shocking breach of order. My master flailed but couldn’t rise. My fellow knaves hesitated at the sight of Hugh – only I had quickly sprinted over – so Hugh cheekily slid his arm underneath my masters and effortlessly pulled him to his feet. They were the same height – maybe Hugh was my age, but he was easily a foot taller. “Apologize at once!” Hugh demanded, pressing his chest forward and making my master step awkwardly back. The audience gasped again at these unprecedented offenses, the Count himself shocked speechless. Instinctively raising his shield against Hugh’s “well-armed” aggression, Alain glared past him, glaring at a helmetless Geoff, who winced as boys removed his armor. “Sir, control your boy before his unseemly pride proves fatal!” Whether the threat irked Hugh more than being ignored, I’ll never know, but I saw Hugh’s jaw clench. In a blur, his arm sprang into the air, parallel with the ground, and punched my master’s shield in a quick, efficiently lethal motion – as if my master were livestock for slaughtering. Alain stumbled backward, sucking for air – the blow had split his shield and the horribly dented steel boss had torn the leather hide, sliced through the mail and sunk into Alain’s chest. The leather hide covering the shield trapped his strapped arms – he couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t pull it off. He fell on his knees, stunned and bleeding. The boys huddled in terror so I pleaded with Hugh, “Help him! He’s dying!” Rage melted from Hugh’s face like a passing storm and he realized with alarm what his immeasurable power had done – and to a man ostensibly his “better.” Hugh grabbed each side of the shield and wrenched them apart, shredding the hide covering and exposing the boss. He pulled that out and blood spurted against his face. He put his fingers into the mail and ripped it open like rotten cloth, pressing on the wound to staunch the flow until my fellows braved his proximity and aided our master. The doctor rushed forward, relieved that he could bind the wound without having the remove the mail shirt first. Count Houel rose imperiously and called for Geoff. I couldn’t hear what they said, but Geoff kept nodding and Houel furiously pounded his fist in his palm. Hugh stood a few feet from me with his head down. I smelled something sweet and salty I couldn’t quite place – I closed my eyes and it tickled the back of my mind. Like a memory I haven’t lived yet. I’d secretly taken the twisted and torn boss, and now surreptitiously fingered it behind my back – feeling the shape of his knuckles where they turned it inside-out, the warped edge that had torn and hurt him it should be protecting. Fortunately it missed his heart and lungs – but it’s the kind of scar you want from battle – not from a boy’s fist. Geoff went to Alain first, confirming the punishment, then came over and placed his hand on Hugh’s shoulder. His hand rose and fell like a rowboat at sea as Hugh breathed. Hugh nodded and walked around the center rail. A riffle disturbed the female stands, back and forth like a cauldron being stirred. Two big yoked draft horses were brought out and I understood what Hugh faced. I dropped to my knee beside my master and said, “Please, my lord, please spare his life! I’m sure he can be reformed! I believe he can do anything, anything he sets his mind to.” Alain patted my arm. “We’re only frightening him with what will happen if he doesn’t learn his place. The ostlers won’t let him get hurt. Too badly.” As I helped him into chair, I heard Hugh say, “What about my other arm?” My balls tingled. I shifted from foot to foot as a strange irritation grew in my groin. Two more horses were brought up from the stable. Hugh stuck out his arms, releasing feral tangles of reddish-gold curls sprouting beneath them and spraying a mist of sweat. With ropes, the ostlers lashed Hugh’s wrists to the yokes. Then, to guarantee the horses wouldn’t bolt and kill him, their bridles were lashed to the corners of the court, with enough slack that they could apply a torturous pressure that would remind Hugh of his place in the future. The horses fidgeted nervously, nostrils flaring and hooves kneading the dirt. Houel made an angry speech about honor and respect, but sensing a universal impatience, yielded Alain the field. Alain lifted his hand, and dropped it wearily. The ostlers promptly goaded the horses forward. The ropes leading from Hugh’s wrists twisted, but so did the ropes between his wrists and shoulders – his arms that almost dwarfed the haunches of the horses themselves. Each horse took several steps before its hooves slid against the dirt. Alain nodded again and the ostlers urged the horses harder – but the beasts could only lean into their bridles until the effort made them shake. Hugh stared at a point in the sky, his torso rising and falling, his legs planted like oaks. The stable boys urged the horses forward, but their legs could only dig grooves in the ground. Hugh turned his arms slightly, aligning his heaped shoulders with the winglike flare of his back, and refused to move. A sheen of sweat dappled the burnished golden down covering him, and I caught that sweet, wild scent stirring me – though there was no breeze. I realized it came from under Hugh’s arms. The horses smelled something different – their nostrils flared and with a single shriek, they bolted – or rather, attempted it. Hugh panicked at the sound and tensed his arms – two horses stumbled onto their forelegs. Hugh bolted them all in place. His hands gripped the ropes with white knuckles and his unexpected restraint multiplied panic into terror. The horses threw themselves against the ropes, bucking and springing, but only rising straight up instead of forward. The teams danced side to side, seeking any advantage over the terrible weight that pinned them down – and Hugh, squinting, jerked the ropes tight and stopped their dancing. Hugh pulled his shoulder blades together, his flesh humping and squeezing together. This dragged the horses backwards, and they screamed and stamped the ground in fear and fury. Hugh bent his elbows, tightening his arm muscles, and sixteen hooves skidded toward him half a metre. His hands twisted and he gripped the rope farther along, pulling it toward him as his swollen arms turned purple with veins. Though only half-bent, the meat of his forearms pressed against his bulbous upper arms. The horses’ eyes rolled with panic, their mouths frothing and chomping their bits. Hugh closed his eyes and, swaying side to side as he absorbed the animals’ combined efforts, raised his fists higher and brought them closer together. The reins to the court posts tautened and, as the audience gawped in amazement, the horses themselves rose off the ground and floundered, writhing helplessly in mid-air. Hugh twisted the rope again and drew more into his relentless fingers, his chest rippling with dents and ridges as he fought to bring his fists together, lungs heaving. The animals twisted as they stretched between the posts and Hugh, their shrieks strangled by the pressure into hoarse gasps of desperation. Urine and shit poured out of each animal as Hugh’s inexorable hands reached for each other. A shocking crack of splitting timbers shook the stands as the posts gave way – but not enough. A groan like stretching leather was followed with a horribly wet FWWWWUMMMPPPPP! Hugh’s fists knocked against each other – because his arms had ripped four horses apart, spewing blood and gore over his rounded masses and into the crowd. The torn torsos flew towards him and clumped into the dirt while the head-half rebounded into stands. Some people screamed and ran but some couldn’t move, shaking or trembling. Flushed with victory, Hugh smiled broadly and quickly shredded his rope. He opened his eyes and saw with disbelief what carnage his arms had wrought. His skin glowing and his entire body heaved for air, a weird pride surmounting the grotesquerie. Young maidens surged from the stands, yammering and gazing devotedly at him. Pleased (and a little stunned), he flexed his arms and the girls caught their breath – a couple swooned. The bush-covered, deep round pocket that sank between his back and chest and smelled warm and inviting. One bold lass reached out to touch him, giggling, her fingers flying back as if burned. “It’s okay,” Hugh said. “I can make it bigger.” Hugh began pumping his arms, and muscles still swollen from the struggle turned from red to violet, with blue veins snaking under the skin. Each pump expanded his arms got bigger, until their round shape changed and a second peaked cap rose above the bulk. The maidens were all modestly attired – not a bosom in sight – and yet his presence, his heat, his scent compelled their hands to reach for him, regardless of propriety. Several of the girls swarmed around him, their fingers exploring his physique as they might a statue of Hercules. With a huge smile, Hugh dropped his arms and thrust out his chest, letting them uselessly poke their fingers into its obdurate surface, feel its edges and contours. I could see it dawning on their astonished faces how Hugh’s living flesh mocked the so-called armor of the knights. As their fingertips traced the arabesque of ridges in his back, I could also see a single pulse along one leg of his trousers. Hugh’s own eyes now brightened as the fawning girls sparked pleasure in his man-parts, which in turn shadowed his handsome face with anxiety. Despite his advance development, I guessed he’d always used his arms and legs as tools, never experienced a rush of triumphant potency flooding his limbs, then reaching beyond them and enthralling the opposite sex. The girls’ desire sparked lightning which flowed through his muscles to his manhood, forever fusing sexual arousal with displaying his body and exerting his strength. As if he were entirely a living erection. A savage bellow erupted from suddenly jostling shrubbery and in a cloud of dust, a massive bull appeared, its nose bloody where it ripped away from its ring. The girls shrieked and fled, many simply crouching behind Hugh. The bull faced Hugh and pawed the ground, challenging him. I heard my master say, “There’s something in Hugh’s sweat that disturbs stallions and bulls alike. It maddened those horses, and now our bull senses his dominance threatened.” Before anyone could move, the bull lowered its broad head and charged, lance-sharp horns swinging wildly. Hugh growled back and actually ran at the bull, bulging arms cocked and ready to spring. They met in a thunderclap of bone striking bone-hard muscle as Hugh slammed his chest against the bull’s skull. Each animal bounced back from the impact, the bull staggering with its tongue out. Hugh recovered first and grabbed the horns low. Digging his mighty legs into the soft earth, he shoved the bull’s skidding hooves back, away from the stands. But the bull seemed locked on his enemy – it swung and shook its huge head – or attempted to. Hugh grunted and rocked sideways; his shoulders turning ominously toward the beast, each like a head sprouting a thicker horn. The bull bucked his head until Hugh slowly, steadily, unmercifully slowed it into immobility. The bull pulled back and twisted its thick neck the other way – but Hugh twisted his wrists and raised his elbows, checking its progress and holding it tight. With a strained groan, Hugh forced the shuddering head back up. The bull tried to toss Hugh up into the air but Hugh’s grip held it like tar. With a war cry, Hugh exploded and slammed the bull’s head down against the ground. Angered, stunned, the bull leaped forward – but didn’t get far. Hugh’s shoulders sank back, soaking up the bull’s strength and then driving it back out against the animal with greater force. In quick bursts Hugh thrust the bull back; its set hooves trenched the earth which could not withstand Hugh’s power. Trapped in superior hands – Hugh utterly controlled the head, defying the animal’s every twitch – the animal’s eyes rolled and its bellows rose in broken cries of disbelief. The crowd cheered to see this boy-man tame a bull bare-handed – so Hugh grinned and raised one fist into the air … and contained the bestial violence with one hand! The crowd’s deafening praise drowned out the bull’s chest-rumbling fury, its rippling shoulder and haunches quivering, shaking – impotent. Squealing with rage, the bull jabbed its free horn a few centimetres at Hugh. The boy brought his free fist down on the bull’s head. A crack like lightning splitting a tree shocked everyone to silence. Hugh struck the bull again, his knuckles smacking into the densest part between the horns. The bull’s knees buckled and drool looped out of its mouth. One more THWOKKK and the bull dropped flat. Shaking out his hand while the crowd cheered, Hugh walked around and stuck his arms under the bull’s belly. In one swift move he lifted the enormous beast up against his chest … and then his arms pressed it up over his head. He dropped it once against his own stony shoulders and the bull guttered an exhausted wheeze. He lifted the pull again and repeated the drop, the impact making the bull’s head loll. Finally Hugh lifted the bull over his head and carried it around the arena, giving everyone a close look before he SLAMMED it against the ground, its legs splayed out like petals. The impact clattered weapons in their racks, and some of the ladies lost their balance. The bull lay perfectly still so Hugh slapped its face several times to see if he had killed it with one fist. The bull opened its eyes, saw Hugh, licked Hugh’s hand and rolled over on its back, its enormous male-part exposed, red and glistening. Hugh held both hands over his head again like a champ. Under the crowd’s cheers I heard my master mutter, “That bull will never stud again.” “Young knave,” announced Houel once ordered was restored, “God and Fortune have placed you in the lowest estate, in which your earlier offenses to Sir Alain are unpardonable. And yet your manly vigor and dauntless courage indicate a nobler origin, one in which your outburst would not only be unexceptional, but possibly demanded as a point of honor. With your parentage unknown, we may never know the truth – except through your honorable and obedient actions henceforth. I bid you to mind your tongue and temper, obey my vassal Sir Geoff in all things, and your God-thewn limbs may one day raise you to an estate commensurate with your valor.” The Count then turned to the events planned for after noon dinner, but my eyes were drawn to his left arm, which had disappeared behind his back. It appeared to be rhythmically twisting back and forth – or rather, in and out – as he spoke of Hugh. I doubt anyone else noticed – all eyes remained on the smiling hero, his cowed bull; Hugh’s innocent freckles belied a ferocity lurking underneath. I had to see to my master’s horse. Hugh led me to the stable, saying eagerly, “You need to clean the hooves, right?” he asked me. Before I could so much as unstrap the saddle, Hugh ducked underneath the stallion and lifted him over his head – this after so many exertions already! The horse panicked at first, but Hugh’s deep voice and commanding presence calmed it – I even saw the head of its maleness peeking out, as with the bull. My own trousers felt heavy and tight and I stood riveted before the column of living power before me. “Well, go on!” he said. “I’m hungry!” I grabbed a pick and indulged in cleaning each hoof without bending over – I barely had to move the stallion’s legs. When I indicated I was done – I had no voice – Hugh gently put the horse down and deftly unbuckled the tack, which he effortlessly carried, saddle in one hand and all the dressings in the other, to a bench and rack against the wall. When he came back, he asked if he could brush the animal instead. “I didn’t like hurting those horses before, or the bull,” he said sheepishly. “Something just came over me I can’t put into words – like when I’m hunting. I’m usually gentle here.” He wielded the brush like a pro, the stallion responding with shivers and affectionate nudges – one animal acknowledging the superior protection and care of another. I marveled, not for the first time, how some animals sense danger in his aroma, while others are soothed … and aroused. Hugh ate separately from the other boys, who swarmed around the young squire. The noble boy kept looking at Hugh with jealousy, but managed to captivate the other boys with tales of court love affairs and adventures. Only one boy looked our way … and he too looked jealous when he caught my eye. Hugh finished his portion of stew before I had barely begun, and fetched a bag full of preserved meats from his stash. The rough burlap had his name crudely embroidered on it, and while I finished my plate, the boy-man devoured several hunks of dried meat, teeth ripping the hard flesh apart with animal hunger. The morning’s excitement, and being both full and so near Hugh’s humid heat, made me long for a nap. But Hugh jumped up and dragged me with an iron grip out to watch the afternoon events. When prizes were awarded, everyone looked at Hugh as if they knew he deserved not only the top prize, but the whole array of jewelry. The winners too seemed abashed, even my master, who came in third overall and got a beautiful golden torque with three emeralds. I noted that, though decorative, it could fit his neck – but not Hugh’s. I had to attend my master at dinner and eat with the other boys, but when we were dismissed, I left them and went back to the stable. He brightened like dawn when he saw me – his new friend – and we went outside and sat on a stone in the cool evening. Without a word, he draped his heavy arm around my shoulders and I stiffened to support its weight. After watching the stars come out in companionable silence, he yawned like a lion and guided me to his lonely straw pallet, away from the boys on the other side of the animal stalls. Hugh dropped his trousers pulled off his loin cloth, sniffed it, nodded and put it back on. His virile member swung away like a pendulum – but most remarkably, it was utterly smooth. I had thought, given the maturity of his armpits, that he’d be woolly below as well – but that growth had not yet started, it seemed, no more than his beard. How poised between two worlds he seemed, striding them both like the Colossus of Rhodes. Unexpectedly, I felt fear sleeping next to a creature so powerful and, worried he might crush me in his sleep (or in a bear-hugging dream), I curled into a tight ball on the edge of the mat. The night turned frigid and a howling wind whipped around the stable. But Hugh burned like a fully-stoked furnace, his pale skin radiant. I heard him say, “Are you afraid of me too?” I rolled over and, shivering, told him, “I didn’t think I was, but suddenly I felt very tiny.” He looked hurt and said, “I never hurt little creatures. That would be terrible. I don’t even step on worms after it rains.” He extended his arm and I wormed closer, his heat like a heavy woolen blanket embracing me. My head was smaller than the pillow of his arm, not stony at all but firm and, in some way, compelling and safe. He saw the arch in my loincloth and looked around excitedly – “Did girls sneak in?” When he realized we were alone, he sighed and said, “Oh, you’re like Ralph. Ralph was my friend until the others turned him against me.” “Nothing could ever turn me against you!” I blurted out. “I would pledge myself to you as your vassal forever, here and now, if you could take me.” He giggled at the ridiculous thought but nestled happily against me. “You can touch them, if you want,” he said quietly. “I never used to like it when Ralph did it, but today it felt different – all those girls’ hands. I don’t know what I felt. I sure liked it though.” “You’ve never been with a girl?” I asked in amazement, assuming he’d plowed wide and deep. He shook his head. “My master told me the story of Samson, but the truth was, his hair was a symbol of the other thing that grows out of a man. And when he lay with Delilah, she took his essence – so he became weak, her weak slave.” I realized Geoff must have been afraid of what Hugh’s youthful exuberance might do to a tender girl – or grown woman, or sheep or cow. I said nothing and placed my hand on his belly, which ran beneath my fingers like hot bricks on a cooking hearth. I explored the heavy bulk beneath his smooth skin, not clench into stones but full of rumbling threat, rising and falling with his breath. It felt like a city street brought to life, the cobbles able to yield or harden at will. My hand crept up to where his chest rose up like an escarpment – though he lay flat on his back! – and spread like wings to either side. I could barely reach over his chest and rub the solid mound of his shoulder, and stroke the junction where his chest and arm came together like the stanchion of a rope bridge. He raised his forearm and drew my face in his humid armpit. Though I wasn’t nearly finished exploring his manly terrain, the heat and sweet pit-fumes and soft tickling hairs overwhelmed me and I shot my seed in several fierce spurts, my whole being jerking and one foot cramping up. I don’t know if he noticed, but he didn’t let me go – I think he’d already fallen asleep. My release, after the day’s events, left me empty and I too slept in his dark musky chamber. I awoke before dawn – Hugh was already at his chores. Duke Conan would be arriving this morning to begin the folkmoot (there’s quite a queue of gripers this time around, I hear), and the great entertainments would continue, including a troupe of acrobatic Prussian dwarves said to be astounding and funny. A post rider ripped by us and headed straight into the castle. Word went around that we were to assemble, and soon Count Houel mounted the rampart along with by Sir Geoff and the seneschal, an old man, called for everyone’s attention. “My esteemed brother-in-law, Conan Duke of Bretagne,” Houel announced, “shall arrive presently – yes, yay, quiet, quiet! – and he sends ahead not only his salutations – please, quiet! – but also a demand: William, Duke of Normandy, has taken Maine - yes, an outrage! – and our lord expects Normandy shall enter our lands as well, with or without invitation. Every able-bodied man of service age is to immediately prepare for a dress inspection with what weapons and armor he is able to supply, so that we may assess the state of our defense and prepare accordingly. We shall gather again an hour before dinner ready for war and our lord’s review.” He clapped his gauntlets and hell erupted as everyone leapt pall-mall to get home and dust/shine what rusty pieces of tin may decorate their mantels. The Bretons hadn’t seen much action in recent years other than border skirmishes here and there. Now local politics had now thrown Bretagne’s scent under William’s nose and he was chasing it down like the dog of war he is. For armor, the knaves generally tussled over left-overs and scraps from the smithies, but nothing fit Hugh. An older boy remembered an unusually stout squire many years ago who had left mail behind. It was out of style but I doubt anyone would notice that, if it fit. Hugh had to borrow a tunic from the blacksmith – he rarely wore a shirt of any sort. I spread tallow over the arms and shoulders of the borrowed tunic, trying not to linger in the all the rippling valleys and crests which thrummed like volcanos even while relaxed. I and three other boys then lowered the hauberk over his head. We could have restyled the hauberk, repositioning the giant belly links to Hugh’s shoulders where they were needed, but we hadn’t time. We jerked and yanked hung our entire weight off the armor, squeezing it around the outcroppings his his chest, shoulders and back. It hung loose halfway down his midsection and when he put down his arms, the sleeves didn’t quite reach the elbow. The coif fit fine over his head but was tight around his neck, and spread only partly as far over his upper torso as it was designed to. He started breathing fast in the constricting armor, the clinking links rattling with each breath oddly disturbing, if musical. He could barely move in any direction and looked as stiff as a giant wearing a doll’s costume. We watched in awe as the many war machines were wheeled out and lined up for demonstrations. Somehow, I thought Hugh more impressive than they. By the time Duke Conan arrived, all the pomp and ritual left us sweating in the sun, knees trembling from the weight of unaccustomed armor. A couple boys passed out, clattering to the ground, but Hugh looked fine – confined, sweatily pungeant, but unaffected by the heat. While reviewing us, Conan blinked several times when he came to Hugh. “You there, come forward,” Conan ordered. Hugh walked stiffly forward. “How can you fight? It looks like you can barely move.” Knowing he had erred in not previously providing Hugh with suitable armor in case of war – so rare was fighting in these parts – Geoff piped up and said, “He’s had a growth spurt recently and his armor is actually at the blacksmith’s for alterations--” Duke Conan silenced him, eyes glued to Hugh, and said, “I was speaking to the … boy.” He walked around Hugh, suppressing a sigh at the span from side to side, and front to back. He actually ran his fingers across Hugh’s upper back to test if this was some kind of prank. I don’t think he could tell where the steel stopped and Hugh began. Suspicious, perhaps, that beneath the tunic was steel casing of some kind – perhaps plated armor (Houel could hardly afford to fit his entire levy in plate – no one could), Conan came around and ordered Hugh to raise his arms. Then he cocked his ear, listening closely. Hugh raised his arms straight out the side. The links squirmed noisily as the hard surface below changed shape. The entire hauberk rode up several inches. “Now throw your arm back and bend it as if you were going to throw a spear.” Hugh got his arm half-way back when he got stuck. Conan exchanged a dark look with Count Houel and Hugh wiggled his torso, shifting several more belly inches up around his chest so he could move his arm all the way back. As he half-bent his arm, the links twisted and flattened around it. “Make a muscle,” Conan ordered. Hugh obliged. Hugh tightened his fist made his sinews expand, higher and wider. The mail exploded, shooting fragments of steel in both directions. The other warriors yelled and shielded themselves from the painful missiles. The Duke blinked and saw the pale reddened mound surmounting through the shattered mail, splitting the tunic as Hugh made it bigger … and bigger … and bigger still … and with a final straining grin, created two peaks and peppered us with several more links. Hugh looked eagerly at Conan for approval, but Conan simply stood there with his mouth open. So Hugh, thinking the Duke wanted to see more, held out his other arm and flexed it fully-extended. The chain mail tightened noisily while the meat of his back-arm jutted out … getting rounder … bigger … until it shamed the upper arms of most men and held the links at maximum tautness. His front-arm resembled rose in a long arch, trembling a moment against the links until they popped in the middle and ripped open, exposing the deep crevice between the two halves. Hugh then flexed his arm to match, possibly outdo, his other arm – and the mail and tunic obediently tore apart deep into the pit and over the dragon-claw undulations of his shoulder. He stood there, showing off his two beauties, and several women fainted. Female sighs and moans (or I should say, high-pitched sounds – not limited to females) sang through the assembly as he put his hands on his hips. At the same time, he moved his elbows out and widened his back in stages, left to right, left to right, so you could see his it from the front! The links chinked and jumped, the bottom rising higher and higher up his torso … and then Hugh bounced his chest muscles back and forth. Twisted steel shards blew off his chest and showered down on the crowd, often drawing blood. Even the Duke was not immune but nobody stopped him, watching him in rapt awe. Pulling his shoulders forward, he split the hauberk down the sides, tearing steel like old cloth. Strips of unhinged metal flowed off his body like oil. He kept on popping all his muscles until he reduced the tattered armor to old fringe hanging off the coif. For a moment, I felt a communal urge to spontaneously kneel. But Conan’s eyes shone avidly, and he clapped his hands together. He turned toward a pavilion set up for dinner and ordered, “Clear away the food and bring that banquet table up onto the dais. Right up there,” Conan pointed. As servants scurried, I heard him say to Houel, “I think we have a secret weapon against Normandy right here. I will test of his capacities.” Turning to Hugh, he intoned, “Young knave, come forward and show us your pith.” “Please, sire,” Hugh said, bowing and coloring deeply, “I’ve done enough lately, and it makes the other boys – they’re scared of me. I don’t want to scare people anymore.” “It’s not a request, boy!” Conan thundered. “You will do as commanded or face the consequences.” A nod from Geoff removed his objection and he nodded his obedience. Obviously the Duke hadn’t been informed about the bloodbath yesterday’s “consequences” turned into. It took four straining, huffing servants to trundle over the enormous oak-plank table over the uneven ground. While they struggled with the empty table, Hugh pulled off the coif, his arm nearly pressing against his face, and stripped off the remnants of mail and tunic. A flock of girls surrounded him, rubbing shreds of tallow-covered tunic into his white, perfect skin with a fervid devotion that would make the saints jealous. Others caressed his chest and several explored his back. Three or four of them gripped his arms and he suddenly raised them to his sides, the girls hanging off like pennants and giggling with feverish delight. He showed off how his arms charged shape, raising and lowering the girls with only the granite peaks. They swung back and forth but he stood solid as a Maypole. A couple dropped to caress his legs through the boar hides but that alarmed the ancient seneschal, who hobbled over with a loud bell and shooed them all away. The table arrived at the said, but the servants were too exhausted to lift it up the step, so four fresh servants came and heaved, fumbling, with all their might. Duke Conan grinned and commanded, “Everyone - remove your armor and pile it onto the table!” Geoff sent the dwarf troupe over to help, and as boys helped free their masters and shucked their own hauberks, the dwarves made a clever show of passing it along and, climbing upon each other’s shoulders, layering the mail and helmets with exaggerated artistry. The boards of the platform groaned and popped as the weight increased, and increased further. Just when I thought I heard the table complain as well, Conan called a halt, and ordered two goblets to be filled with wine and set at either end of the table. Reaching into a pocket inside his sleeve, Conan pulled out a small cross, gold with garnets and pearls. “If young … young …” (a servant whispered to him) “young knave Hugh can lift this table into the air without spilling so much as a drop of wine from either goblet, I will entrust his master with this, my own devotional cross, to secure his education and his future needs.” A collective gasp went up – knaves were not allowed to own gold. To have a small treasure in trust for the future was unheard of. Conan either doubted Hugh could combine vigor with dexterity and endurance … or he prayed for it with all his soul. Geoff caught Hugh’s shoulder and whispered, “Remember – when you move things quickly then stop, anything not tied down will keep moving. Slow and steady.” I could see Hugh reining his enthusiasm by the set of his jaw. He leapt onto the dais from a stand and surveyed he table from various angles. The platform cricked underneath Hugh’s feet as he circled – the links of armor tinkled and flared in the sun. His additional weight severely stressed a dais constructed to hold a dozen men. The table sported a pair of stout columns carved with spiraling grooves at each end, braced by an inconvenient trestle running the nearly three-metre length of the bankette. And undulating terrain of steel rose in layers above his head. The goblets were nearly brimful. The trestle would get caught between his legs if he straddled it – he’d never get it all the way. I saw now Conan’s strategy – not simply testing Hugh’s brawn, but his strategic thinking and adaptability. And any solution would require more than simple pith. He went around to the back so all we could see was Hugh’s bent, boar-hide covered legs under the table – the armor pile fully obscured him. He squatted and extended his arms at angles underneath. Then he straightened his legs: and the table rose steadily off the platform. Cries of awe and disbelief rifled through the crowd. The platform sank beneath his feet, the wood barking loudly. Widening his stance, Hugh seemed to drop his shoulders and press up from underneath – the towering steel swayed and flashed in the sun. He edged one foot in front of the other, boards sagging loudly from the concentrated weight. Finally, the bottom of his chest-shelf caught against the trestle. He took several deep breaths while everyone else held theirs. In one smooth movement, he powered the creaking table out and up into the air, slipped his head underneath it and shifting his hands to align with the corners for stability. A loud POPPPP! burst from the platform, which bounced dangerously beneath him. One of the builders caught his attention with a glinting knife, and pointed out where the joists were. With a grateful smile (me: jealous), Hugh slowly spread his legs until they rested on the cross-supports. Thicker trusses protested at such punishment – when it was covered with chairs and people, the platform had been silent, solid as the earth – but they took the stress. He whipped his back leg forward and the swirl of interlocking sinews that rose from his waist and twisted around each other to brace the expanse of his upper torso made the carved pillars at the table’s ends look puny. Plus, how such a narrow, flat and tightly-coiled abdomen could rise and moor the broad clustered beef that anchored his oak-branch arms … it defied belief. No blubbery “strongman” rival such power, such beauty. Sweat trickled down the gullies and trenches of his man-flesh, and his groiny-salted scent wafted insensibly through the crowd. Men stirred unwittingly, uncomfortably, some angrily, while girls and women both undulated, their own bodies responding to Hugh’s proximity by lubricating their gyrations and stirring their desires. I felt my own ass and cock discharge an oily moisture as I wiped drool off my chin. Hugh turned his hands backwards and pressed the table high. The mountains of armor shifted slightly but the tremoring goblets stayed dry. As the trestle scraped against his belly – I half-expected to see shavings fall away as Hugh’s serrations carved the wood as it rose. But of course, the ladies had massaged enough cow fat into his skin that it slid easily past them. With his arms extending above his head, his chest bulged out so far out that Hugh pressed his his chin against the top of one to brace his neck. It did not dent. With a final grunt, he thrust and locked his elbows, the bole-thick knotted arms fitting into his shoulder and chest musculature like a complex war machine. The trestle caught on his overhanging chest and bent like a bow in that final thrust – I dug my nails into my legs, afraid the wood would crack. But the squawking wood held and a cheer went up all around. All except Conan, who’s intent face sweated as profusely as Hugh’s, and whose hips jerked violently, his entire body rigid. But Hugh wasn’t done defying our imaginations. Carefully, Hugh stepped to the end of the dais and dropped down onto the first step, bending his arms to keep the table level as he descended. The stair steps squeaked until he got nearly to the bottom, when one snapped with a BANG! Everyone jumped and yelled in fear for him. But Hugh took it in stride, smoothly following the drop while scrunching his body to keep the table level. He dropped his other foot onto the ground, and walked through the last, splintering steps and risers as if they were made of straw. He carried the table directly to Conan himself. Tension gripped the crowd – what was he going to do? For a moment, I felt a flash of panic - he would hurl the table and its contents onto the Duke and pronounce himself King, defying all challengers. I even saw Conan flinch, his guards fidgeting between the call of duty and the sudden will to flee. But Hugh merely lowered the table back down so that it hovered above the ground, and turned it sideways so Conan could observe, and remove, the first unspilled goblet without having to move himself. Then he kept turning, showing Conan and the audience the rippling contours of this back, which tremored in a rapid tattoo from the strain but never flagged from their labors. My eyes were drawn to the perfect globes capping his hide-clad legs - I wanted to grab them and pull him against me – or hang on while he pressed himself into me. But I shook those thoughts out of my head. Hugh stopped again so Conan could take the second goblet and verify that not a drop had spilled from it either. The he completed his circle and, his arms and shoulders beginning to quiver, he lowered the table to the ground as if presenting it as a gift to his lord. Hugh came around, issuing a hot wind of deep breaths and looking as though he could defy Samson and Hercules together. He dropped down on one knee before Conan, his head sinking beneath the rising plateaus of his back. Hugh could barely control his quavering musculature as he recovered from the punishing victory – he vibrated with effort and stilled himself, as he had the bull. In a cracked, hollow voice, Conan said, “Riiii--” He coughed drily, drank half a goblet down and sputtered, half-choking. With wine staining his chin, he said in a tight voice, “Rise, s- … m-my boy. Where is your m-m-master?” Geoff stepped forward, beaming with pride and relief. Conan gave Geoff the golden jeweled cross, and made him swear an oath on the blood of the Savior that that treasure should be used only to secure a future fit for man who will doubtless perform feats of great renown in the service of his lord and land. Again he crowd cheered and Hugh disappeared beneath a roiling female sea. Water, oil, food passed hand to hand through the crowd to care for him where he knelt, and Conan, feeling singularly ignored, stepped over the Houel and called Geoff and Alain to them. “I had thought to test your war machines against one of the menhirs in that field over there – but I think that, once he has fed and rested, we should test them against young Hugh. That will give us a greater idea of how we could deploy him against the machines of our enemies.” Geoff clearly wanted to protest – both the test and the “use” of Hugh in place of a giant rock simply went too far. But it was not his place, and turned away and prepared to speak with Hugh about what he still must do to fully earn the jeweled cross. Myself, I felt Hugh would love dominating the biggest, mightiest mechanisms created by man – if he were fresh. The last few days, he expended more puissance than a dozen or more grown men. Any failure due to fatigue could make him very angry. And I’d seen him angry – Hugh nearly killed an armored knight with one controlled half-punch through his shield. Even a days’ delay would restore him sufficiently. Worried for him, and the rest of us, I tried to tote up how many men would have to pool their strength to accomplish Hugh’s many feats – the horses followed by the bull, then lifting a horse, then chores chores chores; and chores the next morning before bursting armor and slowly lifting a weight that nearly destroyed the dais he stood on. I could see men falling in exhausting, others rushing to sustain an enterprise for which Hugh required no assistance. I felt dizzy – such potency in one boy-man violated every sense of reason and nature. It was a breach in the world, some supremacy stepping down from the world beyond and stretching human belief to its breaking point. I remembered Jacob had wrestled with an angel, and held it helpless in his arms for three solid days before the angel was able to treacherously injure Jacob’s hip, and escape ignominiously the patriarch’s iron grasp. If men have lived before who could dominate even the angels of God, then perhaps such a man could exist again – not a pagan mythical Hercules, but real man, created by God … perhaps to test our faith. See if we would worship the miracle worker or the one true God who made him. I prayed for guidance through this confusion … but my hands weren’t the only part of me pointing towards heaven. “Jealous?” Alain said, coming up behind me, making me jump. “Ah! Sir, uh, n-no…” I stuttered. He gently cuffed my head and gestured to where Hugh had moved to a couch and was being fed and massaged (or groped) by a hundred hands. “Someday you’ll have the girls pawing over you too,” he told me. “But I’m afraid today, no man here can compete with this shining prodigy.” Relief flooded me – he never suspected who I was jealous of…. Mid-afternoon, people stretching from naps re-assembled for the siege-engine demonstration. The first to be wheeled forward was a new battering ram. “In battle,” Geoff explained, “the roof would be covered with wet hides. Thirty metres long, it weighs over a tonne thanks to the iron head. We can fit thirty men on each side.” “That doesn’t look like a ram to me,” Conan said, peering at the head. “It looks like … a fist.” Houel glowed with pride. “That was my innovation. It’s more frightening, isn’t it? Like the fist of God knocking on the door.” Conan rolled his eyes and said sourly, “I think if Hugh stands on that rise over there, he’ll be in a position to test this … fingered thing.” While the engine was wheeled into place, Hugh eagerly ran over and put his hands on his hips. The shadows his wide shoulders and prominent chest cast over his stomach made the cobbles look truly like a stone wall … except that, while he waited, Hugh flexed and relaxed the individual cobbles and rolled his stomach like sea swells. Stone walls can’t do that. Geoff instructed the soldiers, “Let’s start slow – just you ten.” They positions and began swinging the chains faster, and faster, and faster. The heavy SWOOOOOSH through the air conveyed the speed and weight of the ram and for a moment, I seriously feared for Hugh: that ram could knock a bull out more efficiently than Hugh had. It could kill the bull at one blow. Had Hugh met his match? Soldiers swiftly pulled the brakes away while others shove and the machine lurched forward with its thick capped member extending obscenely. An ear-splitting SMAKKKKK! made us wince as the iron fist struck Hugh dead center in his belly. Hugh flew off his feet and the machine lurched backward, shoulders yelling from the shock that rattled their arms. Hugh landed on his shield-tough back several metres away and rutted the turf landing. He immediately sat up and waved he was unhurt, shaking his golden curls to clear his head. The soldiers however hobbled off the platform, gripping their forearms in each hand, faced carved in pain. “That was fun!” Hugh laughed before leaping straight up onto his feet. His stomach blazed angry scarlet beneath his pale freckled chest. He mock-punched himself and clowned like it really hurt, but then he grinned and, stretching side to side and back and forward, assumed his stance for round two. The crowd bubbled with murmuring like a pot nearing the boil – particularly on the ladies’ side. The men gave each other dirty looks at how openly their women displayed such rampant desires – an impotent rage, given their rival. Two dozen new soldiers replaced the first crew and exchanged nervous glances. Once again, the chains swung back and forth, gathering force. It seemed to gather the crowd as well – people swayed back and forth in rhythm, their excitement building along with the ram’s speed. They unleashed the engine with a violent rush and I hid behind my hands. A thunderclap braced the air as Hugh flew higher and faster and farther than before. The log shuddered to an astonished stop and many of the soldiers screamed and fell to the floor from an impact their joints weren’t designed to sustain. Hugh cut a trench through the field and he sank from view. Yet he hooted merrily and we knew that the ram had failed to hurt him again. Yet Conan frowned – I don’t think he expected Hugh to sail into the air, however unhurt he may be. Had he imagined an impossible spectacle? Had he hoped to insert Hugh between a ram and a besieged gate in the hopes of protecting the fortress with Hugh’s stronger build? Clearly that wouldn’t work. I looked at Geoff, who wore the same worried look as my master: an unhappy lord is more dangerous than any war engine. Yet I saw clearly what Conan overlooked: a ram’s force is transferred into the gate or wall, which cracks and weakens as that force flows through it. Hugh did not absorb that force – he repelled it. That’s why the shock surprised the soldiers and why the ram wobbled backwards. It was that repulsion, force being echoed away from Hugh, that propulsed him through the air. A gate made of such material would be impregnable. Hugh alone possessed such material. Again, I shivered, thinking of a living man who could harden himself beyond any other rock or metal in creation. A living man who let me touch him. Cheers and guffs of awe rose from the crowd as Hugh marched back to the frustrated machine, clods of soil falling off the harder bedrock of his back. Geoff rushed over, whispering urgently to him - Hugh smiled like the sun and nodded happily. The soldiers looked frightened. And this time, the ram was fully crowded with men. The crowd mirrored the swinging ram with their bodies, thrusting themselves forward and back in unwitting unison and urging some maximum test which could release their pent-up excitement. The huge log sliced through the air with a deepening WHOOOSH that beat fast and faster until the moment of its release: it sped forward and Hugh unexpectedly leaped at the iron head with his chest. The KKRRRAKKKKK! rang like a church bell breaking apart. Hugh dropped straight down while the entire engine bounce swiftly away from him, the men behind it jumping out of the way and the rowers flying off the sides. Hugh didn’t move. A frozen silence held the crowd until, as a single being, it raced forward. Hugh looked up and sucked in a mighty draught of air, shook his head and looked around, blinking. The crowd stopped, as if the living thing might become a dragon or griffin. A stunned look clouded his eyes – then they focused on the engine rolling to a slow stop, listed to the side where something broke, and all the men crawling away in pain. He remained crouching, catching his wind. Conan himself inspected the state of the ram. A split ran the entire length of the log – it slumped unevenly in its chain sling. Even more amazing, the top two “knuckles” of the fist had flattened slightly, deformed to the sides. “That’s solid iron,” Geoff said, mouth gaping. He turned back to Hugh. Some soldiers were helping him to his feet – he was so heavy it took three to a side and one in back, and they braced their legs jointly against him like buttresses until he steadied himself. He kept jerking his head, the death-knell of the fist still ringing. Geoff kept waving his fingers in front of Hugh’s eyes but the boy batted them gently away and said, in a firm voice I hadn’t heard him use before, “I’m done with having things run into me for a couple of days.” “The trebuchet is next,” Geoff said worriedly. “Shall I--” Hugh shook his head again with a sly grin. “I have different plans for it.” Geoff stepped back, momentarily alarmed by the forthright assurance Hugh now assumed. He walked around in circles, stretching and massaging his crimson chest. I pined to do it for him … and would have done, in front of everyone, had my master not sent me on an errand. His order felt like a dagger in my stomach. I ran quickly, gave a dispatch to a courier, and by the time I got back, the battered-ram had been trundled away and the trebuchet wheeled forward. Two men on each side grunted as they turned the wheels that ran the tackle and slowly raised the mass of iron-bound oak blocks into the air. Hugh wasted no time. “What are we going to do to this?” Conan asked eagerly. “You’ll see,” Hugh answered arrogantly - which seemed to excite Conan rather than offend him. Conan stepped back as Hugh walked behind it, put one foot on the arm resting on the ground, and signaled the drop. The weight crashed to the platform and Hugh roared like a bear as he bore down with his foot. A legging seam burst open, exposing a bovine thigh – and the pivot rod cracked. The entire beam smashed through the machine with an explosion of splinters. Hugh picked up the end and wrested it free, jostling and battering the entire machine. He placed the end of the arm across his shoulders behind his neck and, draping his outside arm over the top, raised the entire thing up parallel to the ground. Then he wrapped his other arm over it . . . snorted like a bull . . . and pulled. His back opened wide like angel wings, his stomach muscles meshed like the gears of the apparatus itself, and his arms filled every space with their compressed, pulsing meat. We heard him breathing heavily in the silence. Hugh’s face contorted in angry concentration, and his elbows dipped. The short length behind his neck actually bent, issuing a CREEEAAAK SNIK-SNIK-SNIK SNIK SNIK FRACCCKK! The heavy bar split open like a monster’s toothy maw. His outside arm pulled and then twisted the broken as Hugh broken bole until it tore away. He pulled more of the bar across his implacable back. One deep breath and again his face strained, pitting the obdurate ridges of his vein-studded neck. His arms too snaked with blue veins nearly tearing through his buttery red-splotched skin. The solid oak held out as long as it could until Hugh’s arms compelled it to shiver, quake and surrender. He kept going, snapping the bar into pieces without rest, his breathing hoarse, his tender boy’s face a mask of resolute destruction. By the time he fractured the last bit, his grimace bore a terrifying resemblance to some fairy-tale demon. Slivers and chips of wood dusted his hair and body from oak exploding under unbearable pressure. Beside him, a stack of logs ready for the fire. “Magnificent!” Conan declared, unable or unwilling to stop the gushing females who pawed his dauntless, bloated arms and reverently dusted splinters from the many crevices in his back and lodged in his hair. I got a tingling sensation in my groin that he’d tear the engine apart with his bare hands with so much admiration – and indeed, he jumped onto the counter-weight and, clinging to a cross-bar with his toes, grabbed an iron strap in each hand and pulled. The iron bent up a bit but stopped. Hugh jerked them hard and broke them free, happily bending them up and back. He dropped to the ground, dragging the tortured iron with him. Then, inspired, he dragged the freed lengths toward each other and began wrapping them around each other in a giant knot. Then he yanked two fresh sections loose, working the cold metal like it was toughened leather. Showing off, he held an arm rigid and folded the metal back over itself by simply turning his wrist, zig-zagging in with tight switchbacks. At the same time, his other arm rippled as it twisted the flat iron into a spiral. Conan coughed loudly and Hugh turned, glowing in the sun and gleaming with sweat. He had saved the most trying test for last. Hugh slugged down goblets of water and gnawed on some fragrant apples, which mixed a sweetness into his rapturous he-sweat as secretions from different body areas ran and mingling together. “In war, we have not time to rest, no time for refreshment,” Conan declared. “When our enemies lay siege to our cities and hurl boulders into our walls and through our houses, how shall we respond? I want to crush them – literally.” He turned to Hugh, his bony arm outstretched toward the sacred grove. “These standing stones have weathered every winter, every storm, since time immemorial. Centuries of raging wars have neither injured nor moved them. Some say they were planted in the time before men, by Titans or Giants. Some say only Druid magic could have raised and sunk them into the fields where they mystify us to this day. Surely no mortal men could have moved such behemoths. “Young Hugh, your task is to do what neither man nor nature has ever done before you. Uproot one of those ancient monuments so it may be used to smash our enemies and their war machines. You may choose your victim – but your choice will be noted.” Conan led the way; a crowd of men tried to raise and carry Hugh on their shoulders, but the ponderous hulk proved impossible to lift and manage, so they simply surged around him like a pack of hunting dogs. Hugh scooped up the nearest two damsels and carried them like bouquets of flowers in the crook of each arm. Their dainty hands tried to squeeze the unyielding marble of those arms, twisting their hips as they did so. None of our stones are as big as the ones up north, but the field still looks strikes me as a giants’ graveyard. Hugh naturally went to the largest one, shoulder-height but a little wider than he. I wondered which weighed more, and nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity – an absurdity only to someone who had never met Hugh. While Hugh walked around the stone, inspecting clefts and lichen, Conan whispered to Houel, “even if he can only loosen it, we should be able to pull it free with a team of oxen. And he could easily build a gigantic trebuchet to launch these stones. Perhaps even a conveyance to move to them.” I shuddered. Hugh carried the focused, appraising air of a land agent, factoring dimensions, materials and weights that hobbled the imagination. Without ceremony, he dug his feet in and fell upon the weathered stone, oppressing it with focused forces beyond anything nature herself could muster. After so many efforts, Hugh drew from a deep well of virility that seemed never to run dry. The crowd tensed along with him as we waited for the monolith to give. No one doubted it could outlast the onslaught of Hugh. Never relenting the pressure he built up, Hugh managed to slip his hands, his shoulders, his legs into different positions, seeking a stronger purchase, groping with his senses toward the spot already growing weak under his duress. Worrying the monument from every angle, wearing out its grip on the earth, Hugh bullied the half-buried boulder until he found the place where Creation would buckle beneath his will A breeze ruffled through the grass … but when it passed, the grass still shivered. “Look!” I pointed. As every eye turned away from the hero and toward the ground, it humped and split. The stone listed slightly into the breach and several people fainted along with it. Hugh didn’t let up but churched the ground behind him plowing into the monolith. A hump broke upward between his legs as Hugh silently commanded the monument to lie prostrate before him. Conan choked as the yawning field disgorged waves of loam displaced by the foot of the stone being impelled up into the light. Hugh stepped back for the first time, shaking his throbbing limbs so the muscles tossed back and forth like small animals. He spent a few seconds catching his breath, and the swung himself under the leaning side, grappled for a hold, and pulled with a heavy grunt. The earth vomited in distress as Hugh dragged the stone towards the level and mashed its face toward his feet. The menhir listed drunkenly now but something deep intruded on his progress and held the stone. Hugh vigorously tugged and wiggled the tonnage, breaking the obstruction and relinquishing its hold on the monolith once again. Hugh’s arms engorged in undulating ridges, spurs and peaks. His shoulders bulged nearly as big as his head, their carved fingers digging like claws onto his arms and back. His concave belly shifted right and left, directing dominance from his legs into his arms and rippling around his frame like wind-blown sheaves of wheat. Finally, with one crippling shove, Hugh wrenched the monolith free of the earth, crammed its face into the dirt as the entombed end blasted through in an eruption of soil and small rocks. When I shook the grit out of my eyes, I could barely believe what I saw – nearly as much had been buried as stuck up from the earth. It was twice as big as it had looked, the unearthed portion was dark and wet, with clumps of mud sticking to it like the lichen huddled all over the exposed half. Nearly twice as big as Hugh, it seemed impossible to move it any further, except – maybe – to roll it down a hill (were the ground not flat). Wasting no time, Hugh walked around the far side, knelt and reached one arm over the width of the fallen warrior of time. With a HUP and a HRRRGGGGHH, Hugh leaned backward, bending like a bow. His stomach clenched in sharp relief and long rods rippled in his extended forearm. The rock rose a few centimeters but then fell back into the turf. Undeterred, Hugh nearly bounced it back up into the air – but this time, the side closest to him slipped and fell. The fact that he could lift it at all froze everyone in a tableau of wonder. He wrapped his rock-strewn arms around it and pulled, his neck bulging and face purple, but only managed to lever it off the ground and shift it sideways a bit, farther away from its empty grave. He reached underneath and drove his legs down as he raised the end as far as his knees, kneading the ground to press an advantage – but again the weight proved too much, and he had to drop it. He called for water and wide-eyed, trembling girls brought him several bowls, along with fruit and a hunk of roasted beef. He gorged himself, allowing the girls to lick the grease off his fingers. He rubbed them against the surface of the stone, peeling off layer of flint and coating them with dust. He walked around to the middle and tried to raise it laterally – it hinged up half a metre or more before it slipped free. Hugh’s face clouded with annoyance and I feared his angry fist might turn it into more manageable pieces – but he redirected his impatience into his arms. Reaching one arm over the top, he grunted and craned it a metre into the air – several people experienced spasms of a certain kind – and held it teetering while he tried to shift the weight for the next stage. But the tonnage resisted his power and bobbed toward the earth. With a strangled scream, Hugh stopped it for a moment – held it – but had to let it go. Setting his feet farther apart, he heaved yet again, grappled the monolith higher, his lower arm bursting its skin as it braced the burden, dragged his shoulders back and, staggering once, wrestled it onto thighs – where it balanced, its immensity sinking him into the soil. Hugh took three breaths, rocking back and forth with each one, then leaned further back and levitated the stone onto his chest, tottering around as the menhir fought his dominance. He sidled to a halt and paused a moment, dwarfing mass trapped by his inexorable arms. His face screwed tight with strain, Hugh pressed the under arm up, its sinews bunching and trembling, while the arm over the top actually flipped the rock over – a move that almost went wrong, had his legs not danced and buttressed him to stop it. Then his legs began to shake violently and he sank beneath the stone which pressed against his face. The crowd burst with burbling concern that he might be smashed under the giant rock, his hubris leading to a predictable end – and I was afraid if it brought him to his knees, he’d but unable to continue. But … it didn’t. He didn’t kneel. He waddled toward stonier ground, looking like an ant carrying not a crumb but the entire loaf. Hugh’s knees began knocking as he fought to stand, the perfect globes of his ass quivering in time – but he worked his hands around to the underside even as he fought to discipline his rebelling limbs. Taking advantage of what inertia he’d created, Hugh wasted no time resting but pressed the rock above him – his body near parallel to the ground. Barking ferocious groans I could feel in my breastbone, he manipulated the granite giant up as he straightened his back and fought mightily against his own shaking arms. With hoarse, whistling war-cry, the god-man-boy straightened up and pressed the menhir up until his elbows locked and framed his terrible visage. He continued bellowing as he trapped the stone mountain in the air above him, mocking its desire to reunite with the earth. He lurched several steps before stopping at the end of the softer ground and sought Conan – rooting the Duke to the spot with his eyes. He stayed that way until Conan buckled at his hips and dropped his mouth in something like awe. With a snarl, Hugh then let it drop behind him and flexed his bloated arms until the cramping made him shake them out. Once more the crowd poured over him, massaging and rubbing him – a crush Hugh might not have been able to sustain had not circumstances turned against us. His sweet odor took on a pungeant manly stink, which the air caught and carried back into the forest. Before long, a grisly roar answered Hugh’s call from the forest. My master said to Geoff, “I thought you said Hugh had scared off all the predatory animals.” “He has,” Geoff replied. “There must be a migration.” “Bears don’t migrate,” Alain said, “And that was a very angry bear. Again, a mere whiff of Hugh’s scent has driven some beast to fury.” We got a first glimpse of the foaming, shambling beast, and Geoff said with restrained panic, “Not fury, but madness,” Geoff concluded. “That bear is mad. Its bite is deadly – even a scratch can afflict a man with madness.” People stampeded for the city walls once the bear blundered sideways out of the grove and shook deadly froth from its drooling maw. Despite being clearly spent, Hugh immediately strode to face the monster – and we all felt riveted by the same thoughts – if he were too exhausted, Hugh would be no match for the bear – killed or, worse, infected. A rabid Hugh could lay waste to the entire county. The afflicted are routinely strangled before the madness takes hold, but who, or what, could constrict Hugh’s throat? The archers ran back to the castle to fetch weapons but Hugh advanced alone. “No! Hugh, I forbid it!” Geoff ordered, but Hugh responded only to a higher calling, his fatigue replaced by renewed vigor. He ripped the shredded remains of his leggings and codpiece and tore away even his undercloth, one naked beast facing another. Women tried to turn away and close their eyes, but they had lost the will to resist the sight of Hugh's golden glory. Palming two large stones, he bounced their weight – likely as much as a strong man could struggle up to his chest – and then hurled first one, then the other, in quick succession, his arms like trebuchets – only more powerful. The bear fell, struck on the head and shoulder … but rose up on two legs, now truly angry. Slinging ropes of poisonous slobber across the field, it roared and fell clumsily to all fours, lighting into a lopsided charge on legs it seemed unable to fully control. As if it were under the spell of a sorcerer’s apprentice. Hugh ranged from side to side but the bear turned and faced him, always advancing. The hero crouched on titanic legs and launched himself into the air, rising for several metres and sailing over the bear like a bird of prey. The animal stood and swatted at him but Hugh flew too far and too fast, causing the unsteady creature to fall onto its back. As it struggled back to its feet, it turned so Hugh could leap and plant himself like a spear onto its vast shaggy back. Hugh tried to wrap his arms around the giant’s chest but could barely reach – his fingers touched but couldn’t grip. The bear roared and shook violently, but Hugh’s fingers pierced the dense fur and his legs clamped over its waist. Then Hugh shook back. Savagely throwing his body from side to side, Hugh forced the bear to stumble sideways several paces before it plant its claws and hold onto the ground. He shook the bear again but it lowered itself to the ground – so Hugh threw his shoulders back with a strained grimace. And overcoming the bear’s fury, bent its spine back and its forelegs off the ground. Hugh cinched his arms and legs – the bear bellowed in pain and confusion, outmuscled by something small yet heavy and brutally irresistible. Hugh shook the bear again until its head wove back and forth, and then he arched his back and slammed that head into the ground. A look appeared in the bear’s crazed eyes – a moment of clarity, a primitive instinct for escape. The beast fought against Hugh’s strength with the renewed energies of something now fighting for its life. As Hugh’s shoulders tensed, prying the bear’s up again, it fought him, bucking and shaking, matching him strength for strength. Feeling the iron spine defy him, Hugh squeezed until the bear screamed. Every move Hugh made in directing the bear one way, the bear countered, twisting and scratching the other way. Hugh’s face contorted as his arms labored against the sturdy ribs, his fingers grappling for a link. The bear writhed violently but Hugh closed his eyes and with a hissing sound, linked his middle fingers. The beast wore stark fear on its face, its chest compressed, its hips being wrench by the horrible contortions of Hugh’s legs. I held my breath – I couldn’t tell what Hugh was trying to do, besides hang on. Slowly, by pitching his back fiercely, Hugh guided the bear to the stone he had just conquered. His eyes sharpened frightfully, and with his teeth bared and an almost-evil smile, he arched his back again and clumped the bear forward with his own indomitable torso. With claws clutching helplessly at the soil, the bear realized – as much as it could – it was losing. When Hugh coerced his captive abreast of his trophy, he flexed his entire body, lifting the bear off the ground and slamming it back down. He did it again, and again, each time gaining a greater bounce until with clenched grunt, Hugh actually flipped himself onto his back on the stone’s surface, the quarter-tonne bulk pronged above him. The animal’s legs waved in the air but Hugh’s back spread out beneath him, bracing against each terrorized thrust of the mindless brute. The boy-man had even crushed its roar down to a steady wheezing moan frothed out with its spittle. Hugh’s legs trapped the bear’s hind limbs and pulled them out and away, immobilizing them. He arched up onto his shoulders and bent that iron spine – and squeezed. Hugh shook the bear to the left and clamped his hands more tightly to its chest. He jarred it to the right and a sickening pop came out of the bear’s lower quarters. The wheeze now carried a bone-chilling whine of fear. Hugh tensed ferociously trembling with impossible effort, bending the bear's steely ribs in on themselves. Hugh’s rising growls drowned out the animal’s eerie whistling. Now gripping his wrists, he shrank the bear’s chest further through barbaric will. His arms, buried deep in the fur, rubbed slightly back and forth: their knots, harder than bone, fractured ribs. He rattled the bear like a doll, draining the dregs of its vitality with relentless determination. Its swimming forelegs slowed, and slowed further, and then merely waved as if blown by the wind. Once the bear’s legs stopped moving (though still twitching), Hugh’s legs straightened out, further disjointing its hind legs and hips. The trapped victim emitted a thin, high wail, its tongue lolled out of its mouth, a harsh gurgling sound coming with it. Hugh could have finished the bear off right there, but something terrible had been ignited in the man-boy’s chest – and further below. Hugh rolled off the stone and plopped the weakened beast onto the ground. Arching his own back, Hugh brought his legs forward and clamped them against the stove-in ribs. Pulling the bear backward again and trapping its lower torso with his own, Hugh gyrated up, his ass dimpling and clenching, his manroot thrusting through the densely matted fur. It seemed to pulse with every sharp crack echoing through the circle. His eyes feverish, the shocking obscenity of the tableau held everyone in a merciless grip. Hugh wrangled his arms up, never releasing their unbearable pressures, hands reaching for the animal's head. Gripping the rocklike skull, Hugh's chest rose like twin peaks as he stopped the bear's thrashing. His hands crept down, his bulbous forearms immobilizing the bear's head. The entire crowd buzzed with tension that ratcheted higher as Hugh linked his hands underneath its head. With a grim frown, Hugh straightened back up, fighting the bear's final desperate spasms. With a final choking splutter, the bear’s head rose in Hugh's puissant grip, its long long neck tremoring. Stretching. Tearing. Hugh’s invincible lance jousted with the arched neck, his hips slowly digging up and down. But the bear's neck was too long - even with the skull pressed into the valley of his chest, the neck did not break. He'd either have to be work his way backwards ... or ... My knees gave way weakly as Hugh's sculpted arms sprouted veins along their extreme curves. Hugh pushed the head up in a harrowing repeat of his menhir feat. A thin shrill shriek bubbled out of the gaping maw, big eyes suddenly blank with a resignation more terrible than its death throes. Hugh's elbows inched up, his hands rising to stomach-curdling wet PWOPP sounds. Hugh stretched the neck unnaturally longer even as the bear's tongue seemed to crawl out of its throat. Blood sprayed from tears in the victim’s hide, the skin rending in garish jagged slashes. Hugh grimaced as he grappled the bear's body down – down and away. Hugh pushed his arms towards the sky with renewed gristle. Through the ragged flaps of skin, I could see thick cables of muscle stretching and then rolling up into tight knots. Soon I could see the white bones floating like beads on a broken chain washed in red. His virile member erupted, spewing ropes of viscous pearlescence through the hot fur and into the ragged wounds. His legs gripped the body firmly, riding it with bucking hips and plowing himself violently against the dying beast. Finally, with a triumphant bellow that shook the stones themselves, Hugh extended his arms all the way up and sheared the bear's head off its jerking, dying torso. The torn neck fountained blood, mired with Hugh's own jetting essence streaming up through the coat like grappling ropes. Hugh’s seed-fountain continued even as the blood slowly ebbed, soaking the coat in his milky pith. He shuddered, his naked muscles rippling and drumming fleetly beneath his papery white skin, and making a final grunting cry, Hugh stubbed himself out in eye-flickering bliss. Hugh paused a moment, chest heaving with deep satisfaction, until the echoing pleasures slowly Faded. Shaking sense and awareness back into his golden-curled, blood and semen-caked head, carried the still-lethal skull, dripping blood and froth of Hugh, to the gaping pit that once housed a menhir, and dropped it in. He went back to the corpse, grabbed a loose hind-leg, and pulled it over to the grave, kicking it in. Then, in desperation or derision, I couldn’t tell, Hugh tugged the stone, bit by exhausted bit, until its immeasurable tonnes covered the tomb. Hugh turned and raised his fists over his head, his heavy arms bent and throbbing like the empurpled mast rising above his navel, shaking its own glistening fist. But only briefly - he sank down, hands on his knees his shoulders sinking and his back sagging. Then he was lost as cheering soldiers surrounded him and, in a joint effort, raised him to his feet and half-carried him away from the slung saliva and gore, to a grassy rise shaded by the setting sun. The women broke through the soldiers with kettles and bowls of cool and steaming water, shouldering them away like an invading army. Over their heads I heard him mutter “meat,” and platters passed hand to hand from the high table directly to him. Sating himself, he fell into a deep slumber, oblivious of the hands massaging oils into his muscles. Soon the jealous guards rallied and drove the women away, circling him and facing out to keep so many hungry eyes and hands at bay. Geoff had excused Hugh from the rest of his chores that afternoon, so after I finished mine and got something to eat, I returned to his pallet. He was fast asleep on his back, lying flat on his back with only a modest cloth around his loins. The air near him shimmered torridly, and sweat beaded on my forehead and under my arms. I quickly doffed my togs and draped myself over his mounded form. He stirred slightly, his barrel chest rising, but otherwise I may as well have been a light blanket. Arousal chases my fatigue away, and take advantage of last night’s offer and stretch my limbs, pressing my body against his muscles – firm yet pliable at rest, their density defied my penetrating fingers, but I could press and caress them, trace the expansive flesh as it narrows and gathers into steely tendons. His blood pulsed slowly through them, perfectly balancing his other humors and restoring his incalculable vitality. My own loin covering stirred as I rubbed against the serpent sleeping between the pillows of its generative nest. The serpent rose slightly, stirring waves through Hugh’s body which undulated and stretched in sleep. His mouth pursed and opened slightly and, overcome with desire, I gripped his upper arms and slid myself up onto his chest. My own member lay erect in the alley that ran down the center of his cobbled abdomen – it fit perfectly, caressed and massaged as those muscles rose and fell as he breathed. From the barrel-crest of his chest, I reached down and placed a daring kiss on his thick, languid lips. Still asleep, his mouth accepted mine, rubbing against my lips. I nuzzled the down around his chin and let my tongue slip out, seeking his. His tongue also sought mine and they caressed one another and explored each other’s hot, wet den. My own drool flowed strongly, lubricating our fun, and a distant, dreamy smile invited me to display greater passion. I sucked his lips and licked his teeth, and when I felt his hands land lightly on my ass, I shuddered in anticipation and a little fear: if he rolled over and didn’t wake up, could I support his weight or would I be crushed or suffocated by Hugh’s ponderous magnitude? I stretched my arms over his and wrapped my legs over his thighs, encouraging him to stay put but offering my nether orifice for his rising python. He gripped me tighter, so tightly I winced and bit his lip by mistake – his eyes opened drowsily and for a moment, we gazed at each other with his hands clasping hindside. Just then a sharp laugh startled us both (and several of the horses). Hugh raised his head as I turned and saw a buxom young maid with a startled look on her face. “You boys are incorrigible!” she said a little loudly. Hugh rose up on his elbows and sloughed me off to the side, where I adjusted my loin cloth and blazed bright red. She paid me no mind. “All rested, hero?” she said saucily, tugging coyly at the lace that held her bodice together. “How would you like a real woman to satisfy you. I promise it’ll be better than some smelly bear.” She spread her knees and pressed a palm into her skirt with an open mouth. Heat kindled in Hugh’s eyes and his groin snake bobbed up through the folds of his cloth. She walked backward toward a stack of hay bales in the shadows. Forgetting me, Hugh rose – like a mountain growing before my eyes, or a dragon taking off from its lair, his body simply kept going and going and going until he was up and around the corner. But Hugh stopped short, looking uncertain. “Come on,” she cooed. “No one will care. You’re a man now. You do what you want.” Hugh fidgeted against the cloth restraint binding his eagerness. “My master said I would grow weak if I did it. I don’t even, you know, do myself. Not as often as other boys.” “You’re no boy, and no man is your master,” she chided. “Not even the king can rival you. Besides, we all saw what you did to that bear. Are you weak now?” She threw a horseshoe, which he caught. Spreading the fingers of that one hand around the prongs but not taking his eyes off her, Hugh squeezed – and crushed the metal shoe as if it were clay, until it snapped in two. Yet he didn’t let it go – gathering both parts into his palm, he folded them in half – both at the same time – until the outmatched steel could bend no further and broke again. His clenched the pieces in his fist and mashed it again, his forearm filling with rocks that scrubbed against each other. A metallic tinkling seeped out between his white-knuckled fingers. When he opened his fist, shattered fragments of steel rained to the floor, unidentifiable as having ever been a forged horse shoe. “Guess not,” he replied with sheepish excitement. The maid had watched wide-eyed, bosom heaving and mouth opening and semi-closing in excitement of her own. Though she massaged both her breasts and released them, she stiffened and shivered as if fulfillment had ignited without any external stimulation. Her eyes hooded with breathless hunger. “Then, what are you waiting for?” she half-dared, half-begged him huskily. That was it. His loin cloth ripped around his vibrant erection has he flung it away and pulled her to him, immediately entering her. She gasped as his girth stretched her open more than ever before, but he didn’t rush to the finish line. Hugh’s natural instinct for lovemaking took over – building, teasing, pulling back, slowing down then racing, all the while withholding his essence. His manfunk wafted through the stable with a delirious mixture of wild musk and protective warmth. Her eyes rolled up into her head – however vigorously he slid in and out, he was gentler, more controlled – stronger – than any man she’d been with. And … he made her wetter than ever before. Mixed with the leakage from his powerful organ, they slid against each other like eels. She clutched at the hay behind her, her nipples like craters as another pleasure wave washed through her. Again, instinctively, Hugh let her subside and then whipped her up until the storm broke in her several times before he unleashed his own deluge. Hugh’s arm shot out and grabbed a shovel, the blade warping in his grip. He shot into her with such force she instantly came again, biting her lip to stay quiet. His ass dimpled and writhed for so long I realized I would get no sleep tonight – perhaps never again. My own midsection rocked as I spurted in envious sympathy. I massaged myself dry with my under cloth and was about to return to the pallet, when I saw it – he wasn’t pulling out. He was clearly still turgid. Still filling her. Still thrusting. She smiled hungrily, grabbing his ass and pulling herself against him. He slammed into her hard this time, again and again, jiggling her breasts and body, shattering her composure and driving her to wild abandon. She thrashed and ground herself against in rhythm against him, whipping her loosened hair from side to side and moaning gutterally like a cow in calving. In full control and awareness of their danger, Hugh smoothly grabbed a leather work glove and gently shoved it into her mouth. She chewed it like it was dinner. He came again, dimpling longer than before but sluicing in and out and spilling long tendrils of cock drool. I stayed crouching, hardening again and barely aware of the pain. And as I suspected, he didn’t quit. More like he was still getting warmed up. But the maid began to flag, endless pleasure addling her brain. She shuddered periodically, ranging between an empty smile and a tense incomprehension that only Hugh’s persistence could dismiss. Her sopping hair lay lank over her shoulders, her breathing hitching from his power and then siking into a heavy, coarse wheeze. He came a fourth time and she moaned in mindless pleasure and pain. His seed spurted down and ricocheted off his pendulous ball sac … as if she were full. For the first time, he pulled out completely, his knob painted her belly and breasts with his man-lime. A steady stream ran down her legs slowly, like freshly-rendered glue. His sword waved challengingly, throbbing with purple ardor. His exhales came fast and heavy and his red eyes burned with feverish intensity. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do but then, face enlivening, he lifted her into the air, spun her around and did what I had so longed for: took her bunghole like a rutting beast. The pain shocked her awake and she screamed into the glove. Her torso impulsively clenched around him but hadn’t the strength to expel the invader. Sliding her up and down on his breed shaft with one hand, he pulled out the glove stuck his fingers in her mouth, attacking her defenses on two fronts. Her panic retreated and as they joined into a single oscillating being, his body commanded hers to banish pain and feed greedily on pleasure alone. Obediently, her body obeyed and her tension fell away like the tattered remnants of her clothing. He bobbed her up and down endlessly before clenching his ass and releasing another eruption of manly lava. Feeling his own control fight for command against greedy, voluptuous gluttony, he wrapped one arm around a stud and squeezed. His arm crunched into the wood – splinters broke out around it. He squeezed pitilessly as the ecstasy of another tidal wave rolled out of him and utterly submerged her. Solid oak creaked and split loudly. Finally he eased down, left the poor oak post alone, and rested his back against a high stack of hay, holding her up with one hand and simply staying still. But staying within her. Not softening. Not at all. The crippled beam groaned as the weight of the roof shifted into its weakness. The groaning excited Hugh and he slowly began plumbing her for a sixth time. Something broke in my mind – a relaxation, an acceptance of such unbelievable strength and stamina. A kind of faith moved my heart that I never felt at mass. My body responded by releasing another white libation, globs of it billowing forth before the ecstacy could catch up – it rushed in late and quaked me to my soul, submitting my life to this thundering, earth-shaking deity before me. Hugh focused intently on her, careful not to bruise or injure her as he ground her back and forth in semi-circles. Her limbs flopped randomly, their motions aimless and simply sparking off stray bolts of joy her weaker frame could not contain. She shuddered again as another convulsion gripped her, and her seizure gripped him and undammed yet another flood of his virility into her guts. Not only the stream down her legs increase, now from two willsprings within her, but her belly began to bloat. Hugh looked as though this premature release – stimulated by her and not commanded by him – had cheated him. He stayed in and bucked her a little roughly, making her jaw chatter loosely, until he pasted her insides a seventh time. Ignoring how her rib cage expanded in his grip, Hugh plunged deeper with an urgency he hadn’t shown before. His bull-balls slapped the back of her ass as he chased the shimmering bliss he caught so easily again and again. His back stiffened and spread apart and the overflow of another cascade splattered his nutsack and thighs. Her eyes opened with bemused surprise as she belched and … smelled Hugh in it. The maid passed out completely and slumped on him, twitching and jerking like a dreaming dog. His face glowing with greed for a vein of gold that ran deeper and deeper into the mountain, he kept excavating for it. A series of short hard rams made her burp his salty musk, made her breasts flop along with her arms and nodding head. The hammering sped faster and faster until his cheeks became a blur. Then suddenly he stopped and mashed her down as if he were trying to snap his manhood off. But that prong stood up to him defiantly and rebuffed his efforts. Within the frenzy of his ninth fusillade, a heavenly smile pierced his face like a sunbeam after a storm eliciting a heavenly smile to spread across his face. The sun banished the storm and he slowed down to a steady strum. Pinning her against a wall of hay with only his horn of plenty, he put his hands on his hips and wiggled them, watching her bob like a puppet. Hugh didn’t like her leaving him alone like that - so he leaned forward, placing one fist on either side of the hay beside, and supported her with It while staring intently into her face. His presence penetrated her dazed mind and dragged her back to consciousness – while he stayed still, spreading and pulsing with her, her own grinding movement down below betrayed her return to paradise. He began slow rotations, lazy figure eights that hardened him until his balls hitched. Then, again, he became … perfectly … still…. But she shook with warring tensions and seized with unhinged rapture. He grinned with masterly hauteur and withheld himself until she scratched violently at him and seemed she’d shake herself apart if he did not feed her. Still he waited until her panting desperation opened her eyes – he locked them to his – and she seemed to wither and bloom at the same time within his gaze, her mind turning inside out beneath the fullness of his revelation. Still he waited. Still he grinned. Finally, drool spilled in rivulets out of her mouth, followed by a plaintive mewling bordering on despair. He nodded, slowly, over and over as he felt her identity disintegrate – and then he released the hounds of war. Her chest inflated from the inside, a strangled cry of incredulous surrender rose from her gaping mouth, and her breath, redolent of his salt, filled the air and made the horses rustle and neigh. His own fecund odor returning to him from inside her kept his demonic prick sharp as he tunneled even deeper into the mountain for that skein of gold. His muscles flinched - he had ridden himself raw – and now every motion exploded in his brain. A mere normal man would pull away, flee, his brain melting. But Hugh was made better. He carried her gingerly to a worktable, sweeping clean its surface with his arm, and laid her down. He stood upright so that the pressure bore down on his virility, and though it bounced her up a little, it soon settled down. Standing there, hands on his hips, his massive chest rising and sinking like storm billows on the open see, he defied every extreme sensation – he refused to withdraw, he would not pass out. Hugh willed every impulse into submission, and wrung the savor out of each moment. They could not gang up on him. They could not overcome his control. His chest rolled triumphantly as he disciplined his own rebellious passions and directed them to serve him one more time. The lightning from this battle shot into her. She twitched wildly, arms and legs spasming and battering his ram inside her. He conducted the unbearable pleasures until he chose to let them go. Throwing his head back, he barked and howled, reached up and grabbed a roof joist: and each time her leg kicked or her hand flicked, his fingers sank deeper into the splintering oak. He swayed there, his head shaking slowly back and forth and veins pounding in his neck. With a moan of pure satisfaction, his shoulders twitched and his hips swiped her back and forth across the table. He froze and braced his legs and ass. An eleventh milking surged into the maid. Her body swelled, her neck fattened – and his puissance gushed out of her moaning mouth in driving bursts. My body wrenched a third helpless time together with gripping alarm. I felt immobilized but somehow I shouted, “Sir!” as his seed trickled out of her nose and not only from her ears, but also her eyes, like pearly tears. Hugh’s eyes whipped open and he turned and glared in mad fury. I fell back, my cock now heaving drily, and mustered all my courage. “She needs a doctor!” He looked back and for the first time saw the swollen main, his viscous ichor still seeping from her head. He pulled out suddenly and a bucket’s worth of slime whooshed out and all over his legs. He lifted her in one arm and, with the other, battered a hole in the side of the stable. He ran into the village, naked and not only erect but still foaming like … like a mad bear. He woke the doctor by breaking his door in half. The doctor clutched his blanket in terror, then saw the girl and jumped up so Hugh could place her on the bed. Though he was no longer in her, the overflow continued to leak out, spreading slowly over her body. All the time, though her eyes fluttered pure white, the smile never left her lips. The doctor pushed gently on her belly and semen oozed from several openings at both ends. He turned around and, seeing Hugh’s still-drooling plowshare, started in amazement before recovering himself. “Young man, I’ll take it from here.” Tears stained Hugh’s beautiful features. “I didn’t mean to … will she be all right?” “I’ve never seen anything like this,” the old man confessed. “So long as nothing inside her has burst, she should pull through. Though I doubt she’ll ever be the same. You should prepare yourself however: I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a father, several times over. Such prodigious … vigor … might likely plant a prodigy of seedlings in this young girl.” Turning away, he muttered again, “Like an Irish rabbit.” Hugh seemed stricken so I gripped his unyielding arm tight as I could. “Come, you should rest again. And I can’t carry you if you fall asleep stark naked in the street.” Hugh shuffled out and embarrassedly propped the shattered boards door back in the doorway. Overcome with a surge of relief or joy or something, he grabbed and lifted me high into the air, shook me wildly with an ecstatic grin on his face, and draped me over his shoulder like a potato sack. I could feel the slimy slap of his dick against my feet as he trotted down the moonlit street. My hands explored the battlements of his back under the guise of holding on: the central pennant-poles, the squarish berms of annealed flesh over each shoulder blade, and the ramparts that spread to either side. The feeling his shoulder rippling back and forth against my belly made me come again but, having nothing left, it hurt more than anything. I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Back in the stable reeking of fornication, he flung me onto his pallet and stared down proudly. “My friend!” he said, beaming, chest flaring. Then, treating me more like a pet than a friend, he lay down beside me, enclosed me with his irresistible arm-mass and tucked my face into the deep pit of foggy musk between his chest and back. He fell to sleep immediately but my heart raced like a hunting hound. His bushy hairs tickled my forehead and soon his peace encompassed me. I dreamed I was running beside him and wagging my tale forever and ever. THE END
  23. The Roommate's Gift It all began in John’s first year of university. It was an unassuming request; ‘one roommate required for a year lease downtown. John had instantly fell in love with the apartment, but he knew he couldn’t pay his bills without splitting the cost. Kareem had answered the ad almost as soon as it went up on the internet. John thought he was an ordinary guy. Also a first year, and wholly in love with the apartment as well. He had a short beard, olive tanned complexion and piercing green eyes. At first glance, John was not incorrect in assuming that he was from somewhere in the middle east, Kareem’s slight accent only confirmed his assumption. It soon became clear that Kareem was a perfect fit for a roommate. He was clean, organized and didn’t seem like he would have any problems paying for the second half of the rent. John helped him move into the apartment and began preparing for the start of the school year. Shortly after Kareem had moved in, John was woken up one early morning by the clash of pans from the kitchen. He cracked his door open and peaked through. What he saw took his breath away. He knew that Kareem had some hidden bulk under the baggy clothes that he usually wore, but nothing could prepare him for the sight of the muscular man shirtless in his kitchen. Kareem was huge. His body resembled that of a competition bodybuilder, only perhaps a little less leaner and definitely hairier. John retreated back into his room unnoticed. He regarded his own body with distaste. He was pale and skinny, with just enough fat to cover up his abs completely. He had basically no body hair to speak of, which suited him just fine. The only part of his body that he had any pride for was his legs. Good genetics and a lifetime of bike riding had given him swollen calves and cut quads. He went back to bed, dreaming of what it might feel like to have a buff masculine body like his roommate’s. School began and John found himself thrust into the daily grind of life. School and a retail part-time job kept him busy enough so that he barely saw Kareem. This didn’t stop the two from becoming closer and closer, and before either of them realized it, they were best mates. It was one dusky evening when John’s life began to change. Kareem was probably a better cook than John could ever hope to be. He was initially uncertain about the dishes that Kareem put in front of him, but he had yet to have a bad bite, so he never refused anything. Both of them were exhausted from a full day of classes, but John was especially exhausted after getting rejected, once again, by a girl he had been seeing for a couple weeks. Settling down to the steaming food in front of them, John blurted out his desire to have a body like Kareems. “That would get the girls’ attention,” he said dejectedly into his plate. Kareem looked up quickly and regarded John with those piercing eyes of his. “You should come to the gym with me tomorrow,” he said matter of factly. His pecs instinctively twitched under his tank top as he said it. “Yeah maybe. But I’ve tried the gym before, and it just doesn’t seem to work for me! The only things I can ever get to grow are these damned legs.” He looked down at his lower extremities with bewilderment and frustration. “You probably weren’t eating enough,” Kareem said dryly to him. “I think I know how to help.” The slightest smile appeared on his face. He pushed his bulk out his chair and strode over to the kitchen cupboards. John watched him rifle through the numerous spices and herbs that he kept in the cupboards, before he produced a small glass container. “Salt,” he said. “From my hometown, it will help kick up that food a bit.” John didn’t think the food in front of him needed more salt, in fact it was plenty salty already. But he only watched as Kareem knocked some of the salt into his hand. The grains were ruby red and almost seemed to play with the light in the room. John had never seen salt like that before, but he’d also never seen most of the things in Kareem’s spice cupboard, and he tended not to ask. Kareem sprinkled it over John’s food before plunking back into his own chair and tucking into the food. John watched suspiciously as the red crystals dissolved. He shrugged and began to eat. The next morning, John was quite literally woken up by his stomach. Its desperate cries moved him quickly out of bed and into the kitchen. He was not surprised to see Kareem frying up breakfast for the two of them. “Good morning,” he said sleepily before sauntering into the bathroom. “Morning,” Kareem announced, not turning away from the sizzling frying pan. He smiled to himself as he heard the click of the bathroom door closing. John looked in the mirror. “Huh,” he said flatly. His lanky body didn’t look as lanky anymore. In fact, he thought he looked pretty good! He had the first signs of some muscular definition in his chest and arms. The bulge of his legs seemed to push his boxers slightly wider than he had ever noticed before. Oddest of all, he seemed to have a slightly shadowed patch in the middle of his chest, closer inspection revealed budding hair that he had never noticed before. He rubbed the stubble on his face, that also seemed darker and denser than he had ever noticed before. It looked like he only had to wait a couple of weeks before he would be sporting a full dense beard. John wasn’t stupid, and it didn’t take long for him to figure out what had happened. An image of the glass container with the red salt sprung into his mind. He reached into the depths of his mind, trying to remember some factoid of biology that would explain what the salt had done to his body. Nothing came to mind. “Was it dangerous?” John wondered to himself. He realized he didn’t really care, he just needed more of it. Kareem was sitting at the table with two steaming plates as John left the bathroom. He stopped himself from smiling, the transformation had already begun. John had reacted quickly to the crystals, better than Kareem ever had, he was glad that he had only given him a little bit. “Breakfast is ready,” he said cooly. “I’m sorry I started without you, but I need to get going, anatomy class at 8:30, remember?” “Yeah, no worries. Thanks for breakfast!” John watched Kareem curiously as the big man shoveled the last bit of food into his mouth and grabbed his bag. They exchanged goodbyes and all at once, John was alone in the apartment. He wasted no time in seizing his opportunity. He opened Kareem’s cupboard, expecting to find the usual mess. Instead he found exactly what he was looking for. The red salt was there, right in front of him, almost like it had been placed there on purpose. He didn’t give it much thought, only grabbing it and emptying a generous amount into his food. Just like before, it absorbed into his food. Only this time, there was so much that it left a reddish hue. He hesitated for a second, unsure of what he was doing. “It’s only salt,” he laughed to the empty room before shovelling the red food into his mouth. He admitted, the taste wasn’t fantastic. The salt was indeed salty. But he ate it all. Afterwards he only sat there, waiting. But nothing happened. Maybe he was mistaken? Maybe he just hadn’t looked at himself in a while and it was just Kareem’s calorie dense food that had caused him to grow. That wouldn’t exactly explain the hair, but it made more sense than muscle growing salt. John pulled on a shirt and pants, ignoring the feeling of tugging fabric. He would have to take the bus, there was no way he was making it to campus in time by walking. As he flashed his student ID to the bus driver he suddenly felt his skin flush and his head go light. He quickly chose a seat in the back, happy that there was barely anyone else in the bus. His whole body seemed to go numb and cold, he realized he was sweating. John could feel every heartbeat along almost every inch of his body, as if his heart was pumping overtime. And then he felt it. An unmistakable feeling of heaviness enveloped him and he began to grow. He looked at his forearm with a mix of disgust and ecstasy as he watched it fill with hot, hard muscle. Thick veins pushed against the skin under his arm, and as his muscles grew they appeared on the backs of them as well. He watched with bated pleasure as his forearms pumped themselves larger and larger, and thick hair began to mat on their tops. John gasped as he felt his sleeves fill up from his swelling biceps and triceps. A tiny groan escaped his lips, which only drew the gaze of a few bus passengers who looked away before they noticed what was happening. He felt the fabric stretch and stretch until the material was skin tight over a pair of massive bodybuilder arms. A vein ran down each arm, even visible when they ascended into the sleeves of his shirt. Unbeknownst to John, a deep crevice was forming between his ballooning pecs. It was visible above the collar of his stretching V-neck shirt. He reached with a veiny muscle hand to grope a growing pec. The muscle was hard and warm under the thin fabric, he could feel it slowly expanding under his touch. He looked down at himself, suddenly aware that his chest had grown into a thick shelf of muscle. He rubbed under the shirt, not surprised to feel a modest amount of soft hair covering the hard muscle. As his back widened and his shirt tightened, an obvious eight pack was suddenly visible on his torso, pushing the material into eight neat mounds under his heaving pecs. He flexed an arm, delighting in the ball of muscle that formed and the explosion of vascularity that suddenly stood in stark relief against the smoothness of his skin. His attention was suddenly diverted to his lower half, as he felt an overwhelming tightness. His legs were huge! The bulky, hairy mounds of muscle were spilling over his seat. Luckily he had worn stretchy running shorts, and the bulk had only made them ride up, revealing his now god-like lower limbs. He felt ripping and knew that his boxers had given way to his growth, giving him relief from the tightness and allowing his muscles to grow into the soft fabric of his shorts. A couple veins ran down his massive calves, making them look even more cut and athletic. He again praised himself for wearing flip-flops, as even his feet had grown. They were long and thick, corded with athletic looking muscle and veins. He kicked off the useless flip-slops absentmindedly. And just as soon as it started, it stopped. John’s shirt clung tightly, but securely to the muscle man’s torso. His hairy, meaty pecs were overwhelmingly visible above the deep V collar. His previously baggy running shorts were filled with hard hairy muscle, making them resemble compression shorts. He brought a meaty hand to his chin, only to realize that a short dark beard had grown. The transformation was complete. John had a body to rival his roommate’s and he knew it. The bus trundled to his stop, just beside the main quad of his university campus. The sun was out and hundreds of students were milling around the grounds. John noticed that many of the guys were shirtless. He wasted no time in pulling his off, finally ripping it a little bit in the process. He was the biggest man on campus now, he knew it, and he loved it. Thanks to Kareem’s gift, university was about to get a whole lot better. This one's pretty PG.. Let me know what you think!
  24. “THE ANATOMY LESSON” by LuvsMusl “Brian?” He was surprised to hear Coach Porter calling him from the other end of the locker room. Brian had taken to putting in extra sessions in the weight room after practice. The school’s compact but well equipped gym was usually packed with other kids, football players and wrestlers, mostly, until six o’clock or so. He would take a half hour break after football practice, gulp a mix of high energy carbs and BCAA’s, and then grab an hour or so in the gym by himself, lifting intensely without any distractions. Lifting was his passion, his obsession. He had no particular plans to seriously pursue bodybuilding or any other sport. He just loved the feel of the iron, and seeing himself get stronger week by week, and watching his muscles grow steadily bigger and harder. He looked up and smiled as Porter strolled toward him. “You’re here pretty late, Coach. Prepping for Friday night?” A jayvee game was being played the following evening. “No, just catching up on lesson plans and stuff. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Brian shrugged slightly, pantomiming ‘what do you mean?’ “I’m about to do Anatomy with my senior Men’s Health class. Our class, I should say, since you’re in it.” “Okay…” “I was watching you in the weight room earlier…” Brian reddened a little, somewhat disconcerted at the thought that Coach had been secretly spying on him while he trained. “…And I was thinking. What if instead of just using those dumb charts, like every year, I get an actual guy, one of my athletes, to stand in front of the class and model the different joints and muscle groups as I point them out?” “Y’ mean –“ Porter chuckled at the anxious look on Brian’s face. “Yeah, dummy, I mean you. Just look at how well-defined your muscles are. It’ll be much clearer to people what I’m talking about than if I just point at flat diagrams on a chart. Am I right?” Brian went into his own head for a moment. He wasn’t much of an exhibitionist. Of course, it always made him feel good when girls, or other guys, made comments about how great his body looked. But now he pictured himself standing naked, or almost naked, in front of a room full of his classmates and teammates, being made to pose and flex. He couldn’t quite decide whether he hated the idea… or if… Porter decided for him. “Let’s just spend half an hour and see if we can plan it out. Grab a quick shower and then come on back to my office. Just your briefs. We can do a Speedo or something on Monday.” Without giving Brian a chance to answer, the coach turned and strode back toward his office. In the shower Brian thought more about the idea as he soaped himself up and started rinsing off. He was suddenly more focused than normal on his hard-earned eight pack, his thick pecs, his muscled arms and legs… all the while imagining the other guys in class staring at him in astonishment. In envy. Fuck, he suddenly thought. Why am I hard? A little disturbed that the image of himself preening and flexing in front of the twenty other men in his health class turned him on so much, he got to work furiously stroking his meaty cock (“My best body part,” he would joke whenever a girlfriend saw his thick 9.5 inches for the first time.) The giant boner was refusing to cooperate. He had to turn off the shower head and keep grabbing more palmfuls of pink liquid soap. Coach is waiting, he thought. How long have I been in here? Finally, to get the job done, Brian turned his mind back to the image of him flexing his massive physique in front of a roomful of admiring, lesser men. This got him a little closer. To cross the finish line he had to flex his pumped-up left bicep, and stare hard at the thick vein that crossed the deep, perfect separation between the muscle’s two heads. At the same time cranking his swollen tool with the other hand until finally, thankfully, he came, in a series of five emphatic spurts. Red-faced and breathless, he turned on the cold water to rinse his river of cum off the shower tiles, and off where it had splattered back onto his thighs. Porter sat at his desk, nervously laying out his anatomy notes. What’s taking him? “Coach?” He looked up and saw Brian, a little shy in skimpy red briefs, filling his office doorway. Filling was the right word. Dirty blond hair still wet from the shower, the kid, without gym shorts or a tank top interrupting the flow of his physique, looked like a young god. Porter felt something stirring downtown, and reflexively averted his eyes, glancing, for a moment, at the framed photo of his wife and two kids on the desk. “I’m, uh… ready when you are,” Brian mumbled, the hesitation in his voice suggesting otherwise. “Good. Good. We’ll get started in a sec.” Porter stood up, not sure how to begin. He found it literally impossible to avoid staring at the kid’s beautifully symmetrical, exquisitely sculpted body. He’d seen Brian in clothes, or in his football uniform, a thousand times. But seeing him now, like this, he realized that the boy’s perfect proportions disguised the reality of how big and full his muscles actually were. “My God, Brian, you really do have an amazing physique. What are you weighing right now?” “One ninety-seven, Coach,” Brian offered proudly. “My goal is to hit two ten by the end of the school year. Without sacrificing this…” He ran his palm over his flat, shredded midsection. Coach smiled. “A hard two ten, huh? And you’re what? Five eleven?” “Five nine.” Porter let out an impressed whistle. “That’ll be quite an accomplishment. Especially for a 17 year-old.” “I’m 18, actually. I missed a lot of school the year my family moved here, so I repeated fourth grade.” Porter felt himself blushing bright red and it terrified him, sickened him even, that his heart had leapt when he heard that Brian was over 18. What was he thinking? Brian noticed it, too. Was Coach turned on by him? Could Jack Porter, the school’s famously tough, macho, hard ass football coach possibly be aroused by the sight of his shirtless body? Were his muscles that impressive? He had no conscious intention to test this. But, apparently, there was an unconscious urge, because without any thought Brian tensed his pecs and they jumped for a second, ever so subtly, briefly revealing the nice separation between his upper and lower chest, and the deep indentations where the side of his pectoral muscles flowed into his delts. The look that flashed momentarily in Porter’s eyes told Brian everything. Oddly, instead of feeling uncomfortable he found himself growing more relaxed. Fully on purpose this time he lifted his arms and clasped his hands casually behind his head, knowing full well that this would accentuate the V-taper of his torso, bring his obliques into high relief, and flex his biceps into perfect, solid globes beside his head. “Let’s do this,” he said, suddenly sounding like the man in charge. Porter cleared his throat, knowing that if he didn’t his voice would break. “Um… I usually start with the midsection.” Brian moved to lower his hands, but the coach stopped him. “No, keep ‘em like they were, that’s perfect.” Brian interlaced his fingers behind his head again, this time tensing his body so that everything popped. “Yes, yes, that’s good,” Porter said, his words colored with way more excitement than he’d intended to convey. “I won’t do my whole spiel. But I’ll start by talking about your... your… uh… rectus abdominus… upper obliques… serratus anterior…” As he listed the muscles Porter’s hands moved over Brian’s body, gently at first, outlining each muscle as he named it, then pointing out all the individual examples of that type. “Very impressive, Brian,” he said, unable to stop himself from commenting. “Looks like every muscle in your body is perfectly developed.” “Thanks, I work hard at it.” Throughout the process Brian had kept watching the coach’s face, his eyes, enjoying the extreme reaction his physique was causing in the older man. It wasn’t clear whether Porter noticed his own breathing getting heavier, or his fingers spending more and more time on each of the muscles he enumerated… stroking and feeling its density, its elegant shape, its meaty perfection. But Brian noticed, and it thrilled him to his core. I fucking own this guy, he thought. I bet I could get him to do anything. As if sensing Brian’s thoughts the coach’s voice got a little soft and dreamy as he continued his exploration: “External intercostals. Beautiful.” He forgot to talk for the next minute or so as his hands continued wandering, tracing the transversus abdominus -- the muscular V that framed Brian’s lower abs -- and finally rested, once again, in the middle of the boy’s phenomenal, marble sculpture of a stomach. “Punch me,” Brian said. “What?” “Hit me, Coach, with your closed fist, as hard as you can.” Porter chuckled nervously. “I boxed in college, Brian. I had twenty-two amateur fights, I won most of them. Trust me, you don’t want me to hit you.” “If you want to touch any more of my muscles you’ll do it. And not a love tap, either. I want you to pull back and slam me with 100% of your full strength.” The coach was incredibly aroused by Brian’s confidence. And he craved seeing just how strong, how rock solid the kid’s magnificent eight pack was. He set his stance for maximum leverage, pulled his big fist back, and torqued his entire, solid 230 pounds toward Brian’s midsection. The 18 year-old didn’t budge, not a centimeter, didn’t register the blow at all, as Porter’s fist connected with the cinder-block wall that was his midsection. “Fuck!” Coach shouted in pain and pulled his arm back, moving his fingers to see whether any of the bones in his hand had cracked or even broken. Brian laughed, reveling more and more in his newfound power. “Pretty fucking hard, right? Tell the truth. You’ve never anyone with a body like this, let alone a kid.” He put his hands on his 28 inch waist and flared his lats, creating a mind-blowing V in a move that also showcased his spectacular, pumped-up delts, biceps, triceps, pecs… and of course that stone wall of a stomach. The coach was momentarily speechless. “N… No, Sir.” The ‘Sir’ surprised Brian. But no less than it shocked Porter, who had no idea why it had come out of his mouth. Well, he had some idea. Emboldened, Brian bent his right arm under his chin and flexed it, causing a diamond hard, perfectly shaped bicep peak to rise like a steely half moon above his brachialis. “Hey, Coach,” he teased. “Feel that shit. You know you want to.” Coach put his still-aching hand on the boy’s bicep and squeezed it, flushing with delight at how insanely hard and ungiving it was. He might as well have been squeezing a cue ball or a trailer hitch. “Go ahead, kiss it if you want. Put it in your mouth.” Porter met the boy’s gleaming eyes, which showed just how much Brian was getting off on teasing and dominating him. He leaned forward and kissed the stunningly perfect bicep as Brian flexed it again, making it even harder. Porter put his mouth around the granite sphere and sucked it as if it were a thick, juicy cock, slurping and moaning in delight. He would have gone on forever if Brian hadn’t finally stopped him, pushing the coach’s head away, disappointment and frustration darkening the older man’s face. “You like that, don’t you,” Brian teased, now “popping” the beautiful peak, making it jump, over and over, from flaccid to granite hard, a perfectly shaped beef balloon bouncing and swelling. “Boom! Boom! Boom!” “I like it very much, Sir.” “I’m a thousand times the man you’ll ever be. You know that, don’t you? And I’m still in fucking high school.” Brian was on auto-pilot now, improvising, riding his muscle bronco for all it was worth. “Yes, Brian. I mean, yes, Sir. It’s true.” “Fucking right it’s true. You’re hardly a man at all, compared to me. More like a worm. An insect. Next to this you’re nothing.“ He hit a tight most-muscular pose and his 18 year-old body congealed into an edifice of powerful, carved-up beef, veins like quarter-inch pipes throbbing in his thick neck, his brutal shoulders, his ungodly muscular arms. As the boy held the pose, twisting slightly left and right to deliver the full measure of his intimidating virility, Porter couldn’t keep himself from reaching down and stroking the excited thing that was growing inside his gym shorts. Seeing this, Brian stopped flexing, pushed the coach’s hand aside and grabbed hold of the man’s hard cock through his pants. “Is that what my big muscles do to you?” He squeezed Porter’s dick a little harder. “Yes, Sir. I love your big muscles. I live for your muscles.” Brian grinned, still not letting go. “Does it ever get this hard for Mrs. Porter?” He tightened his grip even more, staring into the coach’s eyes, grinning with amused contempt, a bald challenge. A surge of fury formed in the older man’s gut and rose to his throat, an instinctive reaction to his pupil’s brazen disrespect. But before Coach could act on this Brian lifted his callused palm to the coach’s cheek and gave it a patronizing pat. “It’s okay, Jack. My body has reduced better men than you to complete submission. Much better men.” Porter’s anger instantly shrank to a tiny pebble, washed away in the tidal wave of the muscleboy’s cockiness, his effortless dominance. A wet spot of pre-cum had started growing on the front of the coach’s pants. “Okay, let’s finish the lesson. I’ll flex my big teenage muscles and you tell my homies what they’re looking at.” Brian turned his back on Porter and unpacked a masterful rear biceps shot, a sweeping landscape of sculpted flesh that caused the coach to grab his desk for support. The boy reached his hands up and pulled his back into a tighter version of the pose, forcing even deeper valleys in the mountain range of thick muscle: “I’m waiting.” “Sorry, Sir. I’m sorry…” He had to catch his breath before he could start. “Well, um… those are your… your...” “Yeah, yeah, my fucking traps. My fucking lats. My beautiful fucking rhomboids. You’re boring me.” “But –“ “Shut up, worm. What about my glutes? …Are we going to talk about my glutes, Coach?” Without turning back around Brian pulled his briefs down and kicked them out of the way. Porter found himself staring at the most staggeringly beautiful 18 year-old muscle ass in the history of human asses. His knees buckled and he was on the floor, reduced to servitude by the sheer force of youthful male perfection that loomed in front of him. Brian clenched his curvaceous onion and it consolidated into a rock hard matrix of gluteal magnificence – deep grooves and solid ridges striping his shapely butt like the protective armor of some prehistoric creature. Coach made a little noise, from deep in his throat, like the cry of a dying loon. And then he lunged forward, propelling his face toward the tawny curve, the shadowy crescent that promised the fulfillment of his darkest, most joyful and secret dreams. But before Porter’s tongue could find its target Brian pivoted around and whacked Coach in the jaw with his massive billy club of an erect cock. When the older man recovered Brian grinned and wagged his big piece in Coach’s face, making it bounce with pure muscle control, which left his hands free to stroke his abs seductively. “It’s quite a bit bigger than yours, Jack. I guess that’s no surprise.” “No, Sir.” “Maybe if you’re a good boy I’ll let you suck this muscle cock.” “I’ll be a good boy, Sir. I promise.” “Who owns you, little man?” “You do, Sir.” Coach jerked a little, he was starting to cum in spite of himself. “Who’s your muscle master?” “You are!” “Who?” “You, Sir! Brian! Brian Hansen!” Brian laughed and shoved his battering ram of a tool into Coach’s mouth. He grabbed the back of Porter’s head and slammed it repeatedly against his own hard abs, rhythmically fucking the older man’s face as Porter gagged and choked in delirious ecstasy… holding on for dear life to the teen muscleman’s flaring vastus lateralis. With each hard thrust Brian yelled out a command: “Take that teenage cock! Eat that nasty dick muscle! Brian Hansen is God! Brian’s muscles rule your worthless life.” Coach gargled a worshipful assent, somehow forcing it past the wide pillar of cock that filled his throat. Suddenly Brian pulled out, stepping back and stroking his swollen red erection, which was still slick with the coach’s saliva. “You want some of this hot muscleboy cum?” “Yes, Sir!” “How bad do you want it?” “More than anything! A million times more than anything I’ve ever wanted!” “Then work for it. Talk about my muscles.” Brian continued massaging his engorged cock, no longer looking at Coach but instead giving full attention to his raging boner as Porter clamored to gather his thoughts and began talking: “You’re the king of muscle. You’re a boy with the body of a god. Your biceps are giant mountains of male power. Your body is the Master of all men. Every time you flex your giant muscles it’s like you’re fucking my brain, my heart, my soul. Fuck me, Muscle God! Fuck me with your big, powerful, fucking muscles!” Brian was getting closer. “Don’t stop! Grab hold of my balls.” The coach happily did what he was told. “I want your muscles, Brian. I love your muscles. Your muscles own me. I’m a lowly slave to your giant teenage muscles.” Brian was now really close. “Whose teenage muscles?” “Your teen age muscles! Muscle God Brian’s fucking powerful, godlike teenage muscles!” About to cum, Brian shoved the coach aside and continued the chant himself, crying out triumphantly with each stroke of his truly magnificent cock: “My muscles!... My muscles!... “Brian’s!... “Fucking!...Powerful!”... “Godlike!”….”MUSCLES!” And with that he shot, his 18 year-old firehose spewing thick muscleboy cum on the coach’s face, in his cum-hungry mouth, on his shirt, across the desk, drowning the anatomy notes in a huge pool of hot, creamy spooj. For a long moment they just sat there, man and boy (though it’s not entirely clear which was which), physically and emotionally spent. After a while Porter grabbed a gym towel and wiped the cum off his face. He smiled, shyly. “Thank you, Brian. I really mean it.” Brian shrugged. “No worries.” He stood up and noticed that his dick, still semi-erect, was continuing to drip cum on the coach’s carpet. Porter saw it, also. “Don’t bother about that. I’ll have the cleaning crew come in and spruce this place up on Saturday. Or maybe I’ll have the jayvee squad do it.” He chuckled at his own joke. “I guess I better go shower.” Porter looked up at the kid, who was more pumped and shredded than ever after the intense flexing session. Mother of Christ, he thought. That boy truly is a god. “Oh, Coach, one more thing. Could you maybe write me a pass to get out of fifth period on Monday? That way I can come here and pump up before Health class.” Porter grabbed his pad and scrawled out the note. He presented it to Brian, noticing the way the kid’s triceps flared into a huge, striated horseshoe as he leaned on the desk to take it from his hand.” “Thanks.” He flashed Porter a dazzling, toothy grin. “I can’t wait for Monday.” “Neither can I.” “And don’t worry, Coach. I won’t tell anyone you’re a fag.” He winked playfully and swaggered out of the office. His dimpled glutes seemed to mock Porter as they bounced and flexed into the darknesss of the locker room.
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