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[This is a new series that I’m starting, in which Eric Janicki is turned into a slutty himbo! Also, I’m moving my work to my new Tumblr at https://ultram0th2.tumblr.com/ ] Eric Janicki relaxed into the leather chair inside the small office. As he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, he couldn’t help the bright smile that formed on his handsome face as the notifications kept popping up on his feed, letting the bodybuilder/fitness trainer know that his latest gym selfie was popular. It’d been a nonchalant pic of himself in the mirror, with his blue tank riding up the smallest bit to offer the viewers a sneak peek of his chiseled abs which had a light dusting of hair covering them. The 6’1’’ bodybuilder knew that he was attractive, to both females and males, the latter of which made up a majority of his fanbase. Although he was straight, Eric knew that he could keep his follower count up on his online profiles and the lucrative sponsorships coming if he offered enough content that showcased his flawless musculature. The 28 year old man had spent years developing his flawless physique and it was obvious. Even as he was now: donning a dark blue button down and black slacks, his muscles were clearly evident. The buttons on his shirt seemed to strain to keep his powerful pecs covered and his biceps looked as if they could split the sleeves apart at the seams. His slacks showed off every contour of his large thighs and helped to showcase his muscle butt that was the star of many of his posts online. Eric knew that he was hot and he wasn’t shy about using his body, but he was always careful to only offer a sneak peek and not the whole thing. It was tactic employed to keep his gay fanbase drooling over him while asserting that fact that he wasn’t attracted to other men. It didn’t hurt to allow them to pretend, he figured. Eric knew that it was because of his perfect musculature and loyal fanbase that he was in contact with H-Boost, which was some unknown workout supplement company. It’d all been a stroke of luck, honestly. Eric had been at the gym, working on his triceps when an older bodybuilder, Larkin, had walked up to him and had asked if he’d be interested in posting some content about the supplements since the company was looking for an image that apparently he fit. Eric had jumped at the chance to get more sponsorship deals for his social media, which would hopefully cause a domino effect where he’d gain more followers and thus more offers, both of which equals more money. Eric knew close to nothing about the company; but after a quick Google search, he found that it was pretty underground and run by a man named Hank Williams. The picture and bio on the small company website had showed that Hank was an avid weightlifter and that he tended to be more into men— thus the tight-fitting clothes that Eric was dressed in, hoping to score this sponsorship deal. The door to the tiny office opened up and Eric put his phone away, getting up onto his feet to shake Hank’s hand as he entered. “Good afternoon, Mr. Williams,” he said in a polite voice. “Thank you for meeting with me today.” The older man was a solid wall of muscle. It was clear that he’d been a bodybuilder back in his prime. Now the fifty-something year old man hadn’t been following a strict diet as was evident by the large muscle gut that his bulging pecs rested on. His beefy arms struggled to be contained within the fabric of his dress shirt, and his thighs were so thick that the man’s walk resembled more of a waddle. His shaved head gleamed underneath the florescence in the room and his goatee was black, tinged with flecks of gray. Still the strength behind his handshake told Eric that the older man could easily hold his own. “Please, call me ‘Hank’,” he smiled warmly. “And thank you for meeting with us.” He walked around the large, wooden desk that was in the room, setting himself down into his own chair which creaked under his weight. Eric sat back down and straightened his posture, making sure to pull his shoulders back the smallest bit to push his powerful pecs forward. He fought to hide the smirk that was framed by his trimmed beard when he noticed Hank’s brown eyes hone in on the straining buttons. Eric knew that the older man found him sexy, so he figured that obtaining this sponsorship would be no problem. Hank looked at the computer screen that was in front of him, typing away as he read over something. The whole time he typed, his eyes would occasionally flick over towards the chiseled pecs on the straight bodybuilder’s chest. “Well,” he hummed, “Larkin gave you raving reviews and it looks like you do have a pretty impressive social media presence. But, I’m just not sure right now…” Trying to maintain his cool, Eric fought the frown that almost formed on his face. “What do you mean?” he asked. He flexed his arms this time, his large biceps moving like large bowling balls underneath his shirt sleeves. He was always used to just flexing here and there, or maybe flashing a coy smile for the camera. That’d always worked. However, the muscle hunk was floored when he heard that he might not have been what the company was looking for. Hank continued to type away before he opened up one of the drawers on his desk. He pulled out a small plastic pouch, about the size of a condom wrapper, and tossed it onto the desk. One side of the plastic was see-through, showcasing a small pink capsule pill. “This is one of our products that we’re looking for someone to advertise for us,” Hank explained. “It’s supposed to give men a certain kind of boost that a specific audience is interested in. Looking at your posts, you seem to be very dedicated to your fitness. While it is impressive, I’m just unsure if you’d be the right fit for our product.” Eric shook his head slowly back and forth, a little confused by what the older bodybuilder was saying. Sure, Eric was very into fitness, it was obvious by his social media accounts. However, the driving factor behind his desire to land this deal was the way his friend Larkin had boasted about the massive amount of attention and followers people tended to gain once they’d been sponsored by H-Boost. Although he’d never seen any himself, Larkin had never lied to him before. The cocky stud crossed his buff arms in front of his massive chest, simultaneously flexing his biceps and pecs to look much bigger for the gay man. “I’m sure I can handle it,” he smirked, putting on his crooked smile that made the ladies’ hearts melt. Hank’s eyes conspicuously ran up and down Eric’s muscled form. He clenched his stubble-covered jaw before nodding, pushing the pill forward across the desk. “You already posted a selfie today,” Hank explained, “so we can use that as a before. After you take the supplement, we ask that you take a picture every day to show your progress.” As Hank went over the terms, Eric fought to maintain his composure over the fact that he’d landed such a sponsorship. All he had to do was take a pill and then post pictures, and then the money would come rolling in. It was no-lose situation in his mind. “…all it takes is just one dosage,” Hank continued. “So if you’re sure, you can take the pill now.” He pulled out a water bottle from his desk and slid it towards the stud. “Just one?” Eric repeated, thinking that it was too easy. Still, he shrugged his broad shoulders and ripped open the package. He tossed the pill to the back of his throat and chugged down the entire water bottle to make sure it went all the way down. “Great!” Hank cheered as he stood up to shake Eric’s hand once more. “I have a feeling that this going to be a great sponsorship for you. We can email you the contract later. In the meantime, don’t forget to take pictures of your progress and to tag us in them.” Eric gratefully shook the older bodybuilder’s beefy hand. “Absolutely,” he agreed, standing up from his seat and walking out of the small office. There was a light swish to his walk, and Hank couldn’t help but admire the way the stud’s muscled globes seemed to dance back and forth as he walked away. He made a mental note to thank Larkin for sending them Eric, who would without a doubt be a perfect spokesman for Himbo Boost, or H-Boost for short.
Eventually, you RELISHED your growth going out of control. Sure, you'd officially flunked out of your second year of college but economic analytics was harder than you anticipated... Thankfully, you were very lucky to have such a strong group of bros to support you. And they certainly did- when you initially told them you'd wanted to start working out more seriously, they actually gave you bags of supplements and 'lifestyle' tapes. The tapes were weird (all about 'motivation', working out, or dieting) and even when you always found yourself waking up towards the end of them you'd watch them religiously. Hell, the guys eventually started making your meals for you, too and it didn't take long for the gym to become second nature for you. You got BIG. Your confidence burst through the roof and you were cocky or even mean; you deserved it! Nobody could have gotten as jacked as you, nor as strong. Regardless, you were always kind to your bros. They were the ones making you big, too. Hell, after a while you started feeling like they worshiped you, in a weird, communal way. Each one would bring you a can of weird beer of a brand you couldn't pronounce and of course you'd end up shotgunning it as a challenge. At some point doorways were becoming a challenge due to your width- that's when the guys would laugh at your wide, stumbling gait but still help you get upstairs to bed. The side effects made EVERYTHING bigger. Some of the bros bought you new shoes every time your feet started getting cramped in your current pair. One day you'd dozed off again after a weird lifestyle tape, waking up with an excess of morning wood and one of your younger buddies sucking on your long toes. You felt embarrassed but there was something about when he asked you to flex for him that kept you laying comfortably on your increasingly smaller bed. He'd ask you questions about wanting your growth and if you liked it; you'd answer with honesty as you milked your fat cock, his chuckle making you smile naively as he moved to massage your huge feet and massive legs. You were getting massive and it felt awesome! All you could really think about was getting bigger and having fun with your bros. After a while it wasn't weird at all to find yourself flexing or working out in the basement, naked, and you consistently found yourself serving the guys however they asked. You almost cried when the school told you you'd failed all your classes; you couldn't even remember the last time you'd even gone. The guys told you it didn't matter, you could still live at the house and to not even sign up for another semester if you didn't want to. So you didn't bother with school. Hell, you used to consider yourself a rather smart guy but nowadays you could barely keep up with complex conversations your bros have at home. The guys would laugh when you gave a ditsy comment and tell you to show of your tits instead. You'd happily peel up (or ripped off) your shirt, showing off your massive pecs. You loved showing off, after all! They called you a good 'himbo' and directed you to administer twice the doses of supplements you were accustomed too. You explained to them your pectorals were seemingly increasing size even faster than the rest of your body, feeling sore almost every day. They gladly began giving you more thorough daily 'massages'. Nowadays you find yourself practically shaking the earth beneath your heavy steps, your quads and hams so wide you have to move in an awkward waddle. Your time is religiously spent in the basement gym or with your loving bros. Sure, they graduate and new ones come in, but you always find tight relationships with them. The guys worship your massive, sweaty body and always make sure you're well-taken care of. You've lost track of how many years have gone by and sometimes wonder if you're not really getting any older, either. You're fucking huge. Sometimes the guys are sweeter and love letting you strut around with a proper alpha male cockiness. Others are meaner, tricking you into tight situations or letting your huge pecs go without milking for days at a time, letting you murmur in discomfort like a proper bull in heat as your pecs start looking overdeveloped even for your massive frame. A rare few actually manage to fit your huge cockhead in their mouths. Some manage to fit you inside them (dangerously) but most often you enjoy feeling a bro sniffing and lapping your hairy, muscled pucker before stretching it out with their fat bro cock. For as much as you have to eat, absorbing protein through your bros' thick cocks is a benefit you gladly enjoy. There isn't often a party where you turn down a proper pose down, letting all the guys worship you as they pump you full of beer and cock.