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Found 68 results

  1. dangerdanger

    Ivan The Terrible

    So there I was at the age of 45 trying to build my life again. I mean, not again, ufff… it's hard to explain… but let's say I had the opportunity of a fresh start. So I moved to Buenos Aires, Argentina. Why Argentina? Well, I’ve traveled a lot and from all the places where to find a balance between nice city, cheap economy and sexy guys this is THE place. So I rented a small apartment in Palermo and decided it was time for me to start a new business. I had some ideas that I thought could work very well and maybe after a year or two sell them as a package for big investors. This was going to be the third time. The idea was quite simple: an e-commerce for wholesalers. Easy, possible and cheap. I only needed a developer. Not too experienced, actually an intern would suit the role more than well. So I started interviewing. I'm not going to bore you with all the interviews I did and all the people (nice people, by the way, love you all). Let's move faster at the end of the line where Ivan was. Ivan was 20 years old. He was a morocho (they call them like that in here), not a black person, not a white person neither but maybe closer. Was he handsome? Mmmmm he wasn’t bad… you know… I mean thinking about his head… he was kind of nerdy… worst haircut ever… like dumb and dumber you know? But… ok Was he tall? Probably 2 inches taller than me. I’m not Mr. statue, but I don’t feel I'm a hobbit… I’m a decent 5 foot 5 (no one will remind because of my height, ok). Was he built? Ok, now we have something to talk about. You know those guys that have big muscles (or decent muscles) but covered in fat? Well, he was one of those. I mean, he wasn’t fat at all. He had like a broad back, big shoulders, big arms and his body stretched that shirt especially on the shoulders. But because of all the fat he had there was no chest definition, no six packs… It was a trained boy, with a big body. He looked strong, no doubt about it. So we talked for 30 minutes. I felt he was good for the role. —So, do you have any other interests? Hobbies? —Oh… hobbies? I like to train!… Gym! —his English was as rough as himself. —I can tell! He laughed —Do you train a lot? —Oh, four times a week… I used to be personal trainer… —Really? When? When you were 10? —haha! No no, two years ago… I’ve been training since I was 15… —Nice… ok then, let me call you back… That night I jacked off thinking about him. I mean I could be his father… or he could be a friend of my son? That was much better… (I'm not THAT pervert…) So… Ivan… big and powerful and young Ivan… when you reach certain age there are some things that look way different from before… youth was one… and body of course… cause actually they are related. I couldn’t help but get horny with the idea of a much younger man than me… overpowering me… dominating me… ok ok… all the humiliation games you probably know… Sex, for christ sake! So next day I sent him an email: Congratulation! You are hired! And sent him the address of the office I rented and asked him to be on Monday at 9 AM. I'm not going to give many details of the work itself. Let say I had money and was good at business, to make things short it was easy for me. It was a very nice office, a small one with two desks I bought, a bathroom (with a shower and a small dressing room!) and a nice kitchen. So on Monday there we were, young and big Ivan and me. I took the first week to explain to him every detail of the business so he would know what to do. He learned fast and looked happy with his tasks. By the end of the month, we were working 100% of our time. Things moved fast, so did Ivan… Winter came and since I like doing sports I started jogging at noon. It was my favorite moment of the day to do that and the only possible moment to avoid freezing. I changed myself in the dressing room and went out. Ivan kept on working with his headphones on listening to some metal (I hate metal!). After some days of doing that routing I said: —Hey, Ivan! Don’t you wanna go out to do some jogging? —What? jogging? I’m not that fan of that… —I mean not necessary jogging… you could do whatever you want… don’t know… do some training… I mean... There are a lot of gyms nearby… —Really? —his face lit up— That would be great! Thanks, Mr. Johnson. —Ivan, you can call me Andy. —Oh! Ok, sorry, Mr. Johnson. So he kept calling me Mr. Johnson. That was something that made me feel older but at the same time… hot? Don’t know… Oooh, sex… what a mystery you are!! Ok so I kept on jogging and Ivan started the gym. And after that each of us would eat at their desks, working. I was in front of him and the screen blocked us from seeing each other. From time to time I would stand up to answer some doubt next to his computer and sometimes it was the other way around. Normal business, people. Keep going, nothing to see, except Ivan. At first, I didn’t notice it. But it was true that he used to use jogging suits all the time. So, what could I notice below that?. But once I stumbled next to him and grabbed his arm to keep from falling. What happened? Don’t know but that wasn’t an arm! It was like concrete or something even harder… —Are you ok? —he said. —yeah… sorry… sorry I grabbed your arm… —Oh, it’s ok… I didn’t fell anything… So there was something going on… Autumn finally came… and that Monday Ivan came with a t-shirt of a smaller size than his body. I remembered he was big… but now for sure, he was bigger. —Hey, big guy! —Hey Mr. Johnson —he said and left his bag full of who knows what. —You grew some muscles over there… —Oh? ha! yeah! I'm training a lot… —Really? I can tell! How many times? —Oh five… yeah, five… —Nice! Good progress! —Oh, thanks! —he said. I did notice he was quite ashamed. But that wasn’t the only thing that was changing. There was this day. Both of us were working in a certain feature and I wanted to check something with Ivan. —Hey, Ivan! Come here —I said from my desk. He stood up and came just right next to me. I showed him some things that he was doing wrong and told him how to fix them. Then I said: —Ok, we’ll do that later… I’m going to jog —and then I stood up. What happened? I froze… —Are you… bigger… I mean… taller… —Ah? —he said looking at me from his good head taller. Not only taller, I mean he was bigger… way-way bigger than before… his shoulders… he had… he had a chest… —You think? —he said taking a step closer to measure himself My heart skipped a beat. I was two inches from his body. I didn’t realize how big he was. He lifted an arm to measure my height against his chin and I saw what was going on at his arms. Muscles! Big muscles. —Yep… you are right… I'm taller… How tall are you? —Oh… don’t know… 5 foot 7? —Mmmm don’t think so… I was that when we met and I was taller than you… —Oh… —I must be 5 foot 8… —That is tall… —You think? —Yep, you are starting to look big… —Yep! —he laughs— My girlfriends say that too. —Does she? —so there was a girl… What happened? Oh, nothing, Ivan kept growing. Did it make sense? Of course not! I mean he was too old to have a growth spurt… how late was that? Well… never mind… Was I was enjoying the whole thing? I was going nuts… Every day his clothes were tighter, shorter, smaller in comparison with this huge body. But not only he was getting bigger, he was losing some fat… and muscles started to show themselves. —Hey, Mr. Johnson! —Hey… wow! Ivan… what happened? I mean… you look huge! —Haha! You think so? Thanks! I feel great! He would never do a double bicep or something… he was super shy… but there was no chance he could hide that muscle body… —How much do you weight? —Oh… don’t know… I don’t weight myself that much… —Really? We’ll have to fix that! That afternoon I bought a scale. —There you go… step there… take off your sneakers and your sweater… He did… OMG! What a back! He was becoming a beast! —230lb… Ivan, you are huge! —Wow! I didn’t think I was that big… I mean I see myself in the mirror… and I feel good… —Do you? —Yeah! I'm lifting a lot! —How much are you bench pressing? —Oh!… let me see… 100… 150… 300 lbs I guess… —Wow! —Ha! yeah! But my trainer told me is ok for someone as big as me… I'm 6 foot tall now… —What? —haha! Yeah, you were right Mr. Johnson. I'm getting taller! —You are giant! I’ll have to look too high to talk to you! —Haha! You are not that short… —Let me prove my point! —I step closer and look directly to his chest— You see? From here I can only see your chest… huge chest, by the way? But to see your face I have to move back… you see? Huge! —Haha… you are getting smaller Mr. Johnson! So every Monday we had our scaling session and I added a tape to measure his height. —Haha! 250 lb, Mr. Johnson! —Come here, you giant! Let me measure you! He steps next to me. I was facing just the bottom of his chest. Every part of his body was getting too huge for his clothes. I raised my hand and touch the top of his head to read: —6 foot 2… He was enormous but at the same time, he was so shy that was like a little kid in the body of a supergiant muscle man filled with strength from head to bottom. A few weeks later: —Wow! 270lb, Mr. Johnson! —Really? Let see if you grew… But when I tried to measure him I realize I didn’t reach his head. —Let me help you —and lift me so I could reach his head. His hands were enormous and I felt the strength on his arms that didn’t tremble, not even for a second. —Wow! You are getting strong, Ivan! —Haha! Yes, that was easy… how much do you weight? —Let see… The scale said 145… —Wow! That felt like nothing, Mr. Johnson! And then I read the tape… —Ivan, you are 6 foot 3… I was starting to freak out… A month later he went to the scale by himself. —How much, big guy? —I said. —Can’t read… It was true. The scale was next to the wall and to read the scale he had to bend over this chest but the wall was there. —Let me do it —just getting close to him was amazing— 310lb… its official: you are a giant! —You think so? I feel all things around me getting smaller. You too, Mr. Johnson —and he lifts me up— You are getting lighter! Measure me! So I did. —Oh… Ivan, you are 6 foot 5… —Are you for real? Let me see! —he was still holding me— Wow! I'm as tall as a basketball player! —Ehhhh… Ivan… Can you let me go? —Oh Sorry! I forgot I was holding you! You weight nothing, Mr. Johnson you should put some weight! But next week his mood changed dramatically. On Monday he didn’t even get close to the scale. He was silent and I could see he was sad. His expression was even different. —Are you ok, Ivan? —Yes, sure… —You don’t look ok… is there something worrying you? —Mr. Johnson… do you have a wife? —I did —It was 50% true… —Did you ever fight? —A lot. Did you fight with your girlfriend? Did something happen? —She says… —he paused. —She says....? —She says I'm too big. —You are big… that is true. But is there something bad about it? Some people are big... some are not. Is she worried because you grew too much? —No, you don’t get it… It’s not about my height… —Ok, it's about your muscles? —No!!!!! —he almost turned red just because I said that. —Then what is it about….? —and then my heart skipped one… two… three… four beats— Oh! Oh! Oh! You mean… —Yeah… —Oh… —I went silent— Really? I mean… how much? —She says it hurts too much! She doesn’t want to be with me anymore! She thinks its weird… O was starting to feel a heat. —And… mmmmmhh… And… aahhh.. what… do you… think? —I don’t know! —Do you like it? I mean do you like to be… big? —I don’t know! —I think you do, Ivan… He looked at me. He was a boy. A muscle giant with a huge (how fucking much????) cock, but a boy. Strong as a fuck but lost… —I think you know… and even more… I think you like it… am I wrong? you like to be big. He kept on looking at me. I punched him on the shoulder (my god… it was made of concrete) —Don’t be sad, big man. Maybe she is afraid, maybe you need to think about you… what do you want? Can you answer that? You like to train… right? Go to the gym? —yes…. —And you like getting bigger… –yes… —And you like getting taller… —yes —Now, don’t tell me you don’t like to have a big… you know… everyone man would like that… What do you say? You like it or not? —I think I do… —Ok —I stood up— Let’s do this… I'm going to sponsor you… Ivan was shocked. —Sponsor me? —Yes! I’m going to help you in your training. I’m going to sponsor you. You know! I’ll buy you all the things you need to have a proper training. Proteins, carbs, creatine, all that stuff. What do you say? —Really??? —he was smiling now— Mr. Johnson! Don’t know what to say! —Say you’ll train harder! He stood up. His face went up up up and all his body erupted like a mountain of muscles. I didn’t reach his chest anymore. He hugged me and pressed my face against his mighty pectorals. They were there, I felt them like a wall of concrete. Solid and powerful. I had to see him without clothes. I felt like a little kid crushed by a muscle man. —I’ll get huge for you, Mr. Johnson! —and he pressed me harder. Spring came and Ivan started to use fewer clothes. He was not only happier, he was bigger than ever and growing like never before. I bought him t-shirts and a lot of tank tops. Lots of very tiny shorts, and lots of supplements for him to eat. A few weeks later, the heat raised a lot. Teenagers were outside having fun. I was walking to the office and then I saw him coming. Ivan was on his bike bare-chested and using just a pair of lycra shorts. He wasn’t big... He was the biggest stud I’ve ever seen. His back was so wide that the bike looked like a tooth stick. His arms bulged with rocks of muscles and so did his shoulders. Those shoulders were bigger than my head. The muscles on his legs were so big that erupted like jams on each side. He was the image of strength and power. The most impressive man. I ran to catch him at the entrance. —Hey, big man! He stood up and I saw his huge (HUGE) abs… 8 impossible big abs and the two enormous rocks filled with power on top. The biggest chest I’ve seen in a person. I looked him from top to bottom. I did notice the incredible big meat on his pants. But his huge body was shinning. It was all sweaty. The most marvelous man was in front of me. In front and above: he was way taller than me. I only reached his abs. I moved closer. —Nice bike! —I said just as I moved even closer. I looked like a small little girl next to her giant muscle brother. Shirtless and hung as a stud. —It’s not mine. It's from my dad. It's too expensive for me to buy…. —Oh! Really? Do you like me to buy you a bike? —Oh! No! No, Mr. Johnson, you’ve done a lot for me! I could never…. —Stop right there, big fellah! I like to help you! You are happy and that what matter most! Because you are happy, right? —Happy? I'm like crazy… I have to tell you… —Did you grow right? I mean… —I had to say it— you look impressive. I’ve never seen you without clothes before. —Oh yeah! I'm way-way bigger! —We should weigh you! —That would great! —he lifted the bike and carry it above his shoulders. —You first! —I said to follow him. Walking was even more impressive that cycling. Every muscle on his back was working in something different. His legs were so long and big that he has to move them in a weird way. And his arm, his flexed arm that was holding the bike looked like metal or even more: pure muscle of a man. He stepped into the scale… and… broke it! —Ivan, you broke the scale… —Oh! I'm so sorry, Mr. Johnson. I’ll buy a new one! —Don’t be silly! —I said and punched him on his abs cause it was the only part of him I could reach. Believe me: it was as solid as the wall— Go take a shower! I’ll buy a new one! So I run to buy a new even more resistant scale. —There you go. Take off your clothes so we can get the real number. —Sure He said and tried to take off his shirt. But he couldn’t —Haha! I can’t take it. Would you help me? —Sure! —I said trembling! I grab it and helped him. When his muscle torso was free he moved closer. —Thanks! It’s hard for me to take them off, my back is too big. I lost my breath. He steps on the scale and said: —I can’t read. —Oh my god… —What? Did I break it? So sorry, Mr. Johnson! I promise I won’t do it again! —Ivan… you weight 420 lbs… —What? Are you for real? I’m huge! I was right next to that giant muscle man and I did notice the big python starting to move. —Ivan… you are an impressive man… I’ve never seen someone as big and muscular as you. —And you didn’t see me naked! My heart stopped… —Oh Sorry Mr. Johnson, I didn’t mean to say that! It just! Oh shit! —It's ok, Ivan! I understand! You had something to tell me…. —Oh! yes! —he said and he turned red— Last night… ahh, I went to a party… and there were a lot of sexy girls there… —Oh! I see. And you met someone! —Yes! and no! I mean. I didn’t meet them! —Them? He looked at me and turned red. —Did you have sex with more than one girl? He said yes just moving his head and smiling like a child. —Two? —He said no— Three? —he was smiling even more— Wow! How many? Four? —Seven… —What? —It was incredible, Mr. Johnson! They were crazy over my muscles!! They started touching me! And kissing me! It was amazing! You were right, Mr. Johnson! Girls love big muscles! They said I was huge and asked me to flex! I was so horny that I did! It was funny! I’ve never done that before! —You never flex, before? —Nop. —You should try it… —You mean alone? I don’t get it! What for? —I don’t know… I mean… I could help you with that if you want… —Really? that would be great! I would flex for you! Thanks! —No problem! And Ivan, you don’t need to wear a t-shirt in here. So feel free to be like this if you want! —Oh! Great! —and even without noticing he bounced his chest. Unbelievable. Pure mass of muscles. A man filled with strength. —Oh! We forgot to measure you! —Oh, yeah! Without even saying anything he lifts me. But I didn’t have the chance to grab the tape. So he just uses one hand to hold me. I was using his palm as a seat and grabbed from his arm not to fall. It was like a tree, muscles over muscles, strong and expanded. —There you go —he said after getting the tape. —Ivan… you are holding me with one arm… and your arm… is huge! —Oh! yeah! you are not that heavy you know! I use barbels bigger than you. —Can I touch it? Your arm I mean… —Sure! Look at this —and he flexed his arm in front of my face—Look, Its bigger than your head! —Can I touch it? —I was trembling. —Sure! I grab his bicep with both my hands. It was a rock. A huge a powerful rock. The strongest arm I’ve ever felt. On the biggest muscle man, I’ve ever seen. —It's so… hard… —Squeeze it… —Oh… really? Ok… —he was still holding me with his other arm. —Harder… —Oh my god… —Harder… —I can’t… —Haha! You can’t even dent it! —he straightened and I lost balance. Without even thinking I placed my hand on his chest. It was even harder! —Oh sorry! —Don’t be sorry, Mr. Johnson! You can touch my body! These muscles are all yours! I'm this huge because of you! You can touch my chest anytime you want! —Really? —Really… go ahead! Feel how hard I am… —Oh my god… Ivan…you are so big… and hard… —Told you…hit me… —What?? No! —Come on, Mr. Johnson! You won’t hurt me… —Are you sure? —Yeah! —he shouts and bounces his pecs I hit them. It was like hitting a tank. —Again! I punched again! —Come on, man! Hit hard! Hit like a man! I used all my strength. His body was even harder! —Harder! Hit my muscles! I obey. —Come on! Hit this chest! I was exhausted but I tried again. —Told you! —I was so tired that I rested against his chest without noticing it— You can’t hurt me, Mr. Johnson. I'm too big. I was just caressing his chest. —You don’t know how good it feels to have muscles this big! I feel like a fucking beast… I could lift you like this for hours, you know?!! How does it feel, Mr. Johnson? To be next to someone as huge and strong as me? —It's amazing —I was about to start kissing his chest. —Did you ever see someone as big as me? —No —I said not only to answer his question but also because he left me on the floor again. —Stand up next to me, I want to see how big I am. I was almost shaking. I was just millimeters away from his abs. And his python cock was almost burst his shorts. —You are getting smaller, Mr. Johnson. I have to bend to see you over my chest! Hows the view? Am I big enough for you? —You are impressive… —Do you want me to be even bigger? If you want I can grow more. —Oh yes… please… —I can make my muscles much bigger… and you won’t even reach my abs. Do you want that? —Yes, please! —Ok, Mr. Johnson. I’ll get huge for you! I’ll make my muscles even bigger! I’ll show you how big can I be. Enjoy the view, Mr. Johnson! Summer came. What could I say? I was living a dream. Ivan was beyond of being big. He had to duck to pass through doors, he had to turn because his back was wider than frames. He was not only getting big, his muscles were gaining more definition, thickness, and density. He wasn’t using shirts anymore, days were so warm that it made sense for him to be bare-chested. But what a chest! It was like looking someone with his armor on all the time. From time to time a would stand up and go to his place to show him something. But instead of that, something like this happened all the time: —You look amazing, Ivan. —Thanks, Mr. Johnson. I’ve trained shoulders today… You should’ve seen me lifting like crazy… I would place both my hands in each of the huge and rounded shoulders. —Your shoulders are huge… You are such a man… —My muscles could use some massage… And I would do that like a servant. I would massage his back, his shoulders, his arms, and his huge chest. —Mr. Johnson, you are great with your hands… Feel this… And then he would tense his chest. —You are so strong, Ivan. I can’t believe the size of your muscles! You are a god! —Ok, I'm off —he would stand up— This god is going to get even bigger. I would stand next to him. He was so tall that I was face to face with his python. His legs were huge as tree trunks. I placed my hands on his strong legs and huge legs. —You like that, don’t you, Mr. Johnson? —Oh, you are such a man. —You I’ll see how much this man can grow, Mr. Johnson. And he would leave me there. That was almost every day until the bathroom thing happened. One day he came back from the gym. He had not showered there because they had a problem in the gym so he came back to take a shower at the office. I followed him like a zombie. —Can I help you, Ivan? —Oh… Yeah… I’m so hard after training I can barely move. Would you mind taking my clothes off, Mr. Johnson? In other people, I would detect the perversion at these words, but there was none in Ivan. He was like a child. —Oh, sure! He sat on the small bench the dressing room had. He was still taller than me even seated, but I got in front of me his wide and big chest. What a view! He lifted his huge arms and I took his tank top from his waist up, up, up and he was free. All his body was shining, rock solid and filled with the biggest muscles. I placed both hands on his chest and filled his strength. Without even thinking I kissed them. A second after I was frozen. I didn’t dare to look him in the eyes. —That was nice, Mr. Johnson —he said and added— You can kiss my muscles. Girls do that. They go crazy with my chest. You can do that as well. Let me show you. He placed one of his big and powerful hands on my head and pressed me against his chest. —How’s that Mr. Johnson? Feel my power. You can use your tongue, you know. Girls do that. There you go, lick those big muscles. Lick my chest like a girl! Oh, you are good with your mouth. Do you like my big chest? —I love it. —I know you do. He stood up. But he was too big to fit in the dressing room. —Take off my pant, Mr. Johnson Was that possible? I mean how did he fit in those pants? They were super tight at his waist but below that, he had the biggest and most hard legs I’ve ever seen. I started to throw but it was impossible. I only got to see his underpants and his huge python resting there. —What happens, Mr. Johnson? Do you need some help with my shorts? —You are too big, Ivan. I can’t —Haha, don’t worry! Let a man handle that. And with a single movement, he destroyed his shorts. —There you go. I was just looking at his giant muscle body in front of me. My hands were shaking. —Are you going to stay there, Mr. Johnson? —Ivan… —I didn’t know what was I going to say —Don’t be afraid, Mr. Johnson… —Would you… would you call me… would you call me “little man”…? He smiled. —Don’t be afraid, little man. I'm a huge man, but I'm not bad. I have huge muscles but I'm a good guy. Do you want to see my huge cock? I said yes with my head. —But first take off your clothes, little man. I want to see how small you are. I did as fast as I could, though I was trembling. —There you go, little man. You are so small and fragile… haha! it makes me feel huge. He did his first most muscular pose. —Look how big I am… Look at my body. This is how a man should look like. Look how big is my arm comparing to yours. You are so weak… His python was raising below his underpants. —Do you want to see my huge muscle body naked, Little man? You are going to cry when you see the size of my dick. Take off your underpants. I did. —Whats there? You call that a dick? Haha! It's the size of my pinky. Let me show you how big is the cock of a real man! And he started to flex his body and while he talked his cock grew and grew and grew. —I love to be this big and you that small. Hows the view of my body? my big and powerful body. I love to see all the little people like you look at me from below. I love how they get scared of this chest. I have all the power here, you know. I like to see you drooling over my muscles, Mr Johnson. I'm your biggest turn on, ha? You are such a fag for my muscles and you are so small, I could crush you with my fingers. I love seeing you get smaller day after day. I love to show you how much I can grow. You call yourself a man? With that dick? Really? —his python was the size of my arm now and pointing up— This is how a man should look like. Muscles everywhere. Strong as a fuck. Oh, Mr. Johnson, I'm so big. You don’t know how strong I am! All these muscles are so fucking strong. Hit my legs. Come on! Harder! Hit like a man! Yeah! Keep hitting, Mr. Johnson! I don’t feel anything! You are just a fag, this is man. Look at this arm! Look at this muscle! I’m a fucking giant! Lick my legs! There you go, lick them like the fag you are. I should rape you to show you how a real man fucks! But I think I'm too big! I would fucking kill you! Haha! I'm huuuuuge! —his python was almost the size of my leg—. Pay attention Mr. Johnson, LOOK HOW HUUUUUUGE IS THIS FUCKING MAN! And his underpants split in two. The biggest cock I’ve ever seen was above my head. —HAHA! You won’t even reach my cock —he said starting to stroke the immense shaft— I love to be this big. I'm a fucking beast. LOOK AT MY COCK! THIS IS HOW A MAN SHOULD LOOK LIKE! LOOK AT THE SIZE OF MY BODY! OH MR. JOHNSON IM TOO FUCKING BIG! COME HERE, STEP ON THE BENCH, LITTLE MAN! IM GOING TO SHOW YOU HOW BIG I AM I did and there I was in front of that huge, long, and filled with power shaft. He was stroking his monstrous cock very slowly. —ARE YOU SURE YOU CAN TAKE THIS COCK, MR JOHNSON? IT'S TOO BIG FOR YOU! LICK IT. I grab it with both hands and lick the huge head of it. It was way-way bigger than my mouth. —Haha! THERE YOU GO, MR. JOHNSON, LICK MY MUSCLE COCK! YOU HAVE A LITTLE TONGUE THERE… USE IT… COME ON…. WORSHIP MY COCK MR. JOHNSON. WORSHIP MY FUCKING HUGE BODY. DO YOU LIKE MY MUSCLES DONT YOU? YOU CAN’T HELP TO FAG ALL OVER THIS GIANT BODY! YOU WANT MY CHEST, RIGHT?. ITS FUCKING ENORMOUS! IM SUCH A MAN! LICK HARDER! SUCK IT! OPEN THAT MOUTH MR. JOHNSON! MY HUGE COCK WON’T FIT IN THERE IF YOU DON’T OPEN BIGGER! COME ON, DON’T BE A PUSSY! OPEN IT! OPEN BIGGER! HAHA IM GOING TO BREAK YOUR JAW WITH MY COCK! ARE YOU AFRAID? ARE YOU AFRAID OF WHAT THIS MUSCLES CAN DO? YOU CAN’T STOP THIS BODY! IM TOO BIG! TOO STRONG! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW IS IT TO BE THIS STRONG! ITS SUCH A TURN ON! I CAN FUCK EVERY ONE I WANT! HAHA ARE YOU AFRAID? OPEN BIGGER! HAHA GIRLS GO CRAZY ON MY BODY! JUST LIKE YOU, MR JOHNSON. YOU CAN HELP TO WORSHIP MY MUSCLES, SPECIALLY MY CHEST! EVEN NOW YOU WANT TO TOUCH IT RIGHT? YOU WANT TO FEEL HOW STRONG IS MY CHEST! EVERYONE WANTS TO TOUCH THIS CHEST! OH FUCK… I HOPE YOU ARE READY MR JOHNSON. YOU ARE GOING TO DRINK ALL MY MAN JUICE. And he came all over me and sent me to heaven.
  2. Herald

    (un)identical twins (1)

    One Jason heard the rumbling sounds coming from his brother's room. "Can't he just do anything quiet", he said to himself and returned to the book he was reading. He had been granted a full academic scholarship to the prestigious university a few blocks away from his house. He was all too happy he would get a top degree and could do it from the comfort of his own room. Brett, Jason's brother, was throwing his clothes atop his bed and putting them into the two large bags on the floor. He was eager to leave for Orchid University and was going to enjoy living on campus. His athletic skills had earned him a football scholarship and he just knew that professional football was his future. Jason was washing his hands when his brother entered the bathroom. He rolled his eyes as he saw that his brother was walking around shirtless once again. Despite the fact they were twins, their brown hair and dark eyes was their only resemblance. At 5'8 and weighing 155 pounds, Jason was a typical nerd: a smart guy, always buried in books, shy and somewhat clumsy. His triangular face and the absence of any beard whatsoever made him look more like a 15 year old. Brett on the other hand was a tad taller (5'9) but weighed an impressive 212 pounds of mostly muscle. He was a pure jock: when not out on the football field, he was pumping iron in the gym, didn't miss an opportunity to ditch his shirt to show off his muscular torso. His strong jaw line and five o'clock beard made him appear a few years older than 18. "Ya done here, little bro?", Brett asked in his deep baritone. "I was born first. That makes me the big brother technically", Jason replied in his higher voice. "You? The big brother? Think again", Brett said and flexed his right arm, "18 inches of power". "Muscle won't take you everywhere in life", Jason shot back. "I'll take brawn over brain every day, bro. How many chicks did your big brain get you so far?", Brett asked and caressed his six-pack, "My muscles got me every girl I wanted. Now be a good little boy and let me shower in peace". Jason shook his head and hurried away from the bathroom as his brother didn't even wait for his reaction to pull down his own pants. He heard the water turn on as he headed back to his room. "One day he's going to get what he deserves", he mumbled to himself. He entered his room and found a parcel on his desk. He opened the little box and discovered an old looking book. A small note fell from the book as he lifted it from the box. He retrieved it and read off the message: A small gift for someone greatly interested in books. Congratulations on year scholarship and good luck in university. Grandpa Jason opened the book and noticed it was some kind of ancient spell book. He knew his grandpa had a great collection of rare books. He had spent hours and hours with him in his library, fascinated by the tales his grandpa had told. Unfortunately, his grandparents lived on the other side of the country and visits had become very rare. He dove onto his bed and began reading the curious book. The next morning Brett took one of his signature long showers. Everyone in the house knowing what he was doing from the loud moans escaping the bathroom. He appeared bright and shining at the breakfast table, a skintight shirt hugging his torso. "Gotta feed this body", he mumbled with a full mouth as he took a fourth serving of pancakes. "Makes us proud, son", his father said, "Maintain the athletic heritage from our family". "Don't worry", Brett replied and gulped down a protein shake, "I will take the field by storm". He gulped down another shake, patted his six-pack and burped. "Fine. Let's get you off to Orchid university then", his father said and get up. "Jason, honey", his mother yelled, "we're off to take your brother to his campus. We'll be back tomorrow. There's plenty of food in the fridge." "Always with his head in the books", his father said while he shook his head and followed his wife and son to the car. Jason watched from the window in his room and saw his parents and his brother drive away. He went to the bathroom and headed into the long walk-in shower. He grinned as he noticed the traces of his brother's morning ritual on the tilled wall: several sticky stains of cum glistened on the dark tiles as they were slowly sliding down. "Luckily Brett always shoots his loads as high as possible up the wall", he said to himself. He pulled a fresh hanky from his pocket and let it soak up as much cum as possible. When he was done, he returned to his room and put the soaked fabric on his desk. He wrote the formula from the book on a piece of paper, according to the instructions. He then proceeded to reading the formula out loud: "Let the body of he who's fluids shall cover this page bond with mine. Let my body fourfold gain whatever mass he should obtain". He grabbed the hanky and rubbed it along the page, smearing his brother's cum onto the paper. In the car, a sudden wave of dizziness hit Brett. His vision went dark for a split second but then returned to normal. In his room, Jason felt an analogue sensation shoot through his own body. He hid the paper inside his desk. And then, the semester got underway. ------------------------------------------------------------ One month later. Brett indeed did well on the football team. He was among the best of the freshmen and everyone agreed that he could lead the team one day. He had become friends with most of the 'big five': the five biggest guys on the team, the group of seniors that dominated their part of the game. Four of them had invited him over for a drink after his first month on the team. The fifth, Mike, the star quarterback who led the team hadn't bothered. He didn't hang out with anyone on the team: his rich parents had rented him a flat off campus and his natural arrogance made him a first class jerk. But his skills on the football field combined with his 240 pounds of muscle made him an almost unstoppable force on the field. Even in the locker room his teammates moved away when he came in. The competitive spirit on the team drove Brett to the gym every day combined with his practice out on the field. Jason eased through his classes with little effort, studying punctually and avoiding the jocks. He didn't have any real friends as he kept to himself in the back of most classes and always returned home. The curse he'd cast on his brother did have positive effects: he'd put on 20 pound of pure muscle since the start of the academic year. At 175 pounds of defined muscle, he looked more like a fitness model when he took off his shirt. Even his face now looked more like that of an 18 year old with a more squared jaw line and the hint of a beard. He kept his new physique well hidden underneath baggy shirts he took from his brother's closet. Only back at home, he went into his brother's room, took off the baggy shirt and admired the new mass on his torso. Brett didn't understand why his body wasn't reacting to his training regime. He decided to up the intensity of his training: he doubled his daily workouts and upped his protein consumption drastically, gulping down shakes whenever he could. During his new early morning workouts, he frequently bumped into Mike in the otherwise deserted gym. The huge star player only nodded to him as he went through his workout. The effects of his brother's increased training were quickly visible on Jason's body. During the next two weeks, he put on another 20 pounds of muscle. His new weight (195 pounds) and muscular arms (17 inches) made him look like a very well muscled fitness model. The once baggy shirts from his brother's closet now hugged his torso nicely and he no longer hid his physique. More heads turned his way as he passed to his classes and even his dad made proud comments. He began drinking protein shakes from the tubes left in his brother's room. One day he even decided to join the local gym. A bit nervous he stepped in and went to the front desk. "What can I do for you?", the guy behind the desk asked. "I'm new here", Jason said, "I would like to join this gym." "You're obviously used to working out", the guy stated as he took in Jason's body, "I'll let you try out for free and we'll discuss the possibilities after you training. Locker room's over there." "Thanks", Jason said. He went into the locker room, changed and entered the gym. Three other guys were working out as he entered. They nodded to him as he went to the bench press. His body seemed to know what to do and the next hour, Jason eased through a good workout. By the end, his pecs and triceps were pumped. He showered quickly and went to the bar to order a shake. The same guy from the desk made him a protein shake. "Had a good workout I see", the guy said and motioned to Jason's pumped arms. "Yeah", Jason replied, "I think I'll join this gym." "Good", the guy stated, "Membership for a month? Or a year?" "Make it a year", Jason answered, "And I'll have another shake too." "There you go", the guy said, "All done. Hope to see you again soon." Jason gulped down his second protein shake and went home. It was the first of his daily visits to the gym. As the semester went on and got near the end, Brett's performance on the field began waning. His body lacked its usual level of energy, during practice he went from being the best among the freshmen to a good top five and in the gym most of his lifts were off. He still looked muscular but hadn't gained one single pound since arriving at Orchid University despite his grueling workout regime and the vast amount of protein he was ingesting. He was probably close to overtraining for once was happy that exams were coming up so he would have a break from training. --------------------------------------------------------------------- At the end of the semester Brett had passed his exams reasonably and was happy to return home for the holidays. He took a train home and arrived mid-afternoon. He entered the house and found his brother lying on the couch. "You're home early", Jason said as he sat up. Brett noticed his brother's deepened voice and blinked as he recognized the shirt. "Are you wearing one of my shirts?", he asked. "Yea", Jason replied, "Mine don't fit anymore since my recent growth spurt. Yours are fine. Bit tight though." Brett didn't respond but took in how the shirt clung to his formerly bony brother's torso. "Huh", he said as he noticed his brother was speaking. "I asked if ya want to go hit the gym. It's time for my workout", Jason repeated while he stood up. "You work out?", Brett asked incredulously. Despite feeling far from okay, he couldn't resist the chance of showing his grown brother who was the alpha. "Fine", he said, "I'll go change and I'll show ya how a real man trains, little bro." A few minutes later, Jason drove both of them to the gym in his new car. None of them spoke a word, the tension between the two brothers hanging in the air: Jason eager to show what his new muscles could do and Brett determined to highlight his dominance. They continued their silence as Jason parked the car and they walked into the gym. "Yo Sam", Jason said to the guy behind the desk, "Brought my bro today. Ya mind if he joins me?". "Bro, I used to train here. I'm a member. Still have my card", Brett interjected and handed his card to Sam. "Yar membership isn't active if ya didn't pay", Jason answered. "Card is no longer active", Sam read from the computer screen, "Do you want to reactivate you membership?". "He's only here for a week. Ya mind if he trains with me for free?", Jason asked. "No problem, J. I'll arrange it", Sam replied. "J?", Brett asked as they entered the locker room. "The guys around here call me J", Jason said and tossed his bag into the locker, "Let's toss some weight around". Brett followed his brother into the deserted gym up to the rack of dumbbells. "Friday is back", Jason said as he grabbed a pair of heavy dumbbells and began doing rows. Brett followed reluctantly: his back wasn't his strong point and his old level of energy was still lacking. He couldn't believe how easy his brother handled the heavy dumbbells. The guy kept cranking out reps when his back was burning from the effort and he dropped the dumbbells. The next hour Jason cruised through his workout while Brett struggled to keep up. Whenever Jason saw his brother grab a weight, he made sure to grab a heavier one and pump out more reps. "Something wrong, bro?", he asked as he saw Brett trying to catch his breath. "Feeling a bit tired from my trip home", Brett muttered in between deep breaths, "We're done yet?". "One more exercise, bro", Jason said and walked over to the pull up station. He grabbed the bar and performed 50 perfect reps. Brett looked at his brother in disbelief, watching the muscles on his wide back work. He nodded 'no' as his brother motioned him to start. "Come on, bro. Thought ya were gonna show me how a real man trains", Jason said smugly and folded his arms in front of his chest to emphasize the new thickness of his biceps. "Fine", Brett replied to maintain some of his old dominant pose. He grabbed the bar and pulled himself up. He tried to ignore how little fluent the motion looked compared to his brother. He reached 15 reps before his grip faltered and he jumped down. He avoided his brother's gaze while he sat down on a nearby bench. "I'm done", he mumbled exhaustedly. Jason just grinned and performed three more long sets of pull ups. "Let's call it a day, bro", he said and walked out of the gym, enjoying how his pumped lats pushed his arms out from his sides and added wideness to his posture. "Prepare me a shake for after my shower, Sam", he said as he passed the bar. Brett followed his brother, marveled at the formerly shy guy's new dominant attitude and the wideness of his frame. As they entered the locker room and begin stripping down, he felt like saying something to excuse his lame work out if he wanted to keep his dominant position in the family. "You're lucky I'm tired from my trip, Jason", he said, "If not you would have begged for mercy". The lack of conviction in his tone only emphasized the hollowness of his words and only diminished his dominance. "Tired. Right, bro", Jason added sarcastically. Savoring how his brother tried to ignore their new statuses. He didn't even bother to look aside and kept stripping down. Brett entered the shower first and went to the furthest shower head in the right corner. He faced the wall as he turned on the water. His mind still trying to process the new reality. A few moments later he heard another shower turning on and he cautiously turned his head a bit. He saw his brother standing under the shower in the center of the left wall. Jason wasn't facing the wall as he showered. Ever since he'd grown he didn't miss an opportunity to display his body. Brett glanced from the corner of his eyes, blinking when he saw his brother's biceps twitch as the guy washed his hair. He quickly turned his head back to the wall when his brother opened his eyes. "I'm gonna have my shake, bro. Don't take too long, I wanna get home for dinner. Gotta feed my body", Jason said and left the shower. A few minutes later Brett showed up in the bar. His brother was gulping down a second protein shake based on the other empty glass on the bar. "Yeah, up to 215 since last week", he heard Jason say to Sam as he approached. "Ya pay these shakes, bro. I got ya in for free. See ya tomorrow, Sam", Jason said and stood up. Brett quickly paid his brother's shakes and followed Jason to his car. Back home, Brett was greeted by his parents and the family enjoyed their first family dinner in months. Unlike before he'd left to Orchid University, Brett wasn't being served first. Jason took the biggest steak and the largest serving of potatoes. After the first serving, Jason and Brett reached for the steak that was left. A quick glance and a slight flex of his brother's right arm made Brett retreat his fork and he watched his brother devour the juicy steak. Just three months ago there would have been no question to whom would eat the last steak. Somehow his once lanky brother had become more dominant while Brett had been at Orchid University. As his brother helped himself to his third serving of potatoes, Brett excused himself and mumbled an excuse of being fatigued from his trip. "Hope ya're feeling better tomorrow for our work out, bro", Jason said with a full mouth. The next morning Brett did feel better when he got up. He went down and found his brother dressed in his workout gear at the table. "Feeling fresh, bro?", Jason asked and gulped down a protein shake. "Let's hit the gym and I'll show you", Brett spat back and made himself a shake too. "Can't wait", Jason replied with a grin. Just minutes later the two brothers drove off to the gym, greeted Sam and entered the weight room. "Arm day, Jason", Brett said and grabbed a 80 pound bar. This time he was going to make his brother follow his lead. He cranked out reps, enjoying the feeling of his biceps pumping. Brett just grinned and grabbed the 90 pound barbell as a warm up. He made sure to pump out 5 reps more than his brother. "Time for the real work", Brett stated and grabbed the 150 pound bar. He groaned and his face reddened instantly as he managed 8 reps. He dropped the bar and looked aside with a grin. The grin froze on his face as he saw his brother curling the 170 pound bar. Unlike him, his brother even managed three sets. "What's up next, bro?", Jason asked matter-off-factly. "Hammer curls", Brett said angrily and grabbed a pair of 80 pound dumbbells. After two reps the familiar feeling of fatigue and weakness began spreading in his biceps. At his sixth rep his biceps were burning painfully and he had to drop the weight. Jason shook his head, grabbed the 100 pound dumbbells and began pumping out reps casually. "…3,4,5,6,7,8…", he counted out loud to stress his new strength. He managed 12 nice reps before gently lowering the weight. Brett didn't want to go down without a fight and grabbed the 80 pounders again. This time the painful burning filled his biceps at the first reps. His arms shook, his body trembled as hoisted the dumbbells up. After three lousy reps, his grip gave out and the weights crashed down on the floor. "Watch it, bro. Sam doesn't like weights being thrown down. Show some respect.", Jason said while he began his second set. He once more performed 12 perfectly controlled reps before ending his set. "Next one", Brett said as he racked his dumbbells. "Not done just yet, bro", Jason replied and performed a third and fourth set just to show off his new position. It felt like he was getting more dominant with every rep he did. "Now we're done", he said after his fourth set. "Preacher curls", Brett muttered and stepped over to the machine. He selected a 100 pounds and began pumping out reps. Jason sat down on the adjacent machine, selected 200 pounds and followed his brother's lead. The competition was on and neither one wanted to quit first. After 20 reps, Brett's arms cramped up completely and he had to stop. His body felt completely drained. He looked aside and his eyes widened in disbelief as he saw his brother continuing his grueling set. Jason felt totally energized. His body fed on the energy of his brother that pushed him beyond his limits. "…35,36,37…38…39…40", he groaned and ended his set. The pump in his biceps was unreal. "That was fun, bro. Let's hit triceps now", he said and stood up. "Wh…what?", Brett blurred out in total disbelief. Jason grinned at his brother's reaction. "Sure thing, bro. Biceps are just half the work on arm day", he said and returned to the dumbbells. "Or are ya tired again?", he added. Brett followed his brother but didn't train anymore. He just handed him the weights he demanded. He felt his once dominant position weaken with every rep his brother performed and even handed him his towel when he asked for it. He simply watched After an hour, Jason finally decided that their workout was over. His arms were fully engorged, his biceps and triceps pumped after the torture he had put them through. "Can't even flex from the pump", he said as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. "Fine. Let's hit the shower. And bring my towel, bro", he stated and left. Brett grabbed his brother's towel and followed the guy. He gazed at the defined, hard triceps that jutted out from the back of his meaty arms. "Thanks, bro", Jason said as he grabbed the towel from his brother's hand and ripped his shirt off. "Can't get it over my head. My arms are too pumped", he said as he saw the shocked expression on his brother's face. "When ya train like a real man, ya swill feel this too", he added and strutted into the showers. Brett followed a few minutes later. He entered the shower zone and saw his brother standing in the center of the left wall, his body on full display for everyone. He looked away quickly when his brother made eye contact. He retreated to the furthest shower on the opposite wall and face the wall like the day before. Now and then, he turned his head slightly to peak at his brother. The way his biceps swelled as his brother massaged his hair made a faint 'wow' escape his mouth. He quickly turned his head back to the wall when his brother opened his eyes again. "Time for my shake. Don't make me wait, bro", Jason said while he left. Brett inhaled deeply when he was alone in the shower zone. The second training with his brother had made another deep dent in his once unquestionable dominant position. Deep down he knew he wasn't the alpha anymore but his brain refused to accept the new reality. He turned off the shower, got dressed and went to the bar. He blinked as he saw Sam feeling his brother's left arm. Jason noticed his brother. "Now ya know what a real arms feels like, Sam", he said and gulped down his second protein shake. He got up, winked to Sam and left. Brett wanted to follow his brother but was asked to pay for the shakes again. He did and followed his brother to his car. On the ride home, he took short glances at his brother's arms, watching the corded muscles on his forearms tense as he shifted gears. Back home he rushed into his room and didn't come out until dinner. As it was Christmas the next day, the gym was closed and Brett was relieved not having to join his brother again. At noon the family gathered for their traditional feast. The food was delicious and most of it ended up on Jason's plate. Everyone watched, the parents lovingly and Brett in disbelief, as Jason wolfed down serving after serving. "Ya done, bro?", he asked and took the half serving of meat lying on Brett's plate. When every dish was emptied, he patted his tight six-pack happily. "Gotta feed my body", he said, "Fuelling up for our workout tomorrow. Can't wait for it, bro". "Me too", Brett said unconvincingly. "I'm so glad you two finally share an interest and spent some time together. I'm proud of both of you", their father said. The next morning Brett found his brother once again waiting for him at the breakfast table. Minutes later they were driving toward the gym. As the previous times none of the brothers spoke a word and the tension hanging in the air was like a thunderstorm ready to explode. Both of them knew it would be a decisive moment: Brett was fighting to maintain his former dominance over his brother and Jason was ready to finally claim the top position as alpha of the family. They maintained their silence until they entered the weight room. "Let's smash chest", Jason said. He put on his usual warm up weight and cranked out 20 quick reps. "I'll show ya how it's done, bro", Brett said smugly and cranked out 20 equally fast reps. He knew that his chest was his best muscle group and he wasn't going to step down from the confrontation today. Jason added some weight to the bar and did his first working set of 12 solid reps. Brett followed suit. Jason continued adding weight to the bar after each set. After their third set Brett's chest was beginning to feel fatigued. He'd even one rep less than his brother. "Fourth set", Jason groaned as he pushed up the bar and cranked out another 8 reps. Brett got under the bar, pushed it up and felt his arms shake. He got to 5 reps before his pecs gave out and he re-racked the bar. He stood up, trying to catch his breath and felt his face turn red. "Not so strong after all", Jason said smugly. He added two more plates to the bar and got another solid 7 reps. "Put on some more weight, bro", he said as he laid down on the bar. Brett did as he was told and watched in disbelief as his brother pumped out 5 reps with the heavy bar. It was 30 pounds more than his own max. He felt his once undisputed position slipping away. "Dumbbell presses", Jason said as he stood up from the bench press and wandered over to the free weights. He grabbed the third heaviest pair and began his exercise. Brett followed suit but took a pair of considerably lighter dumbbells. "A bit over trained from football", he mumbled to his brother. Even with the lighter weights he couldn't pump out the reps of his brother. He dropped the weights to the floor and looked in disbelief as his brother grabbed the heaviest dumbbells. "Don't hurt yourself, bro. I never managed that weight", he said. Jason grinned and cranked out 8 solid reps, enjoying the feeling of the pump spreading through his chest. "Too bad they don't have any heavier dumbbells", he grunted as he did three more sets. He sat up, racked the dumbbells and went to the dipping station. "You go first, bro", he said, "ya had time to catch yar breath while I was still dumbbell pressing." Brett grabbed the handles and began dipping. He got 12 nice reps before his arms began shaking. He managed two more reps before jumping down. Jason grabbed the handles and copied his brother's movement. On his twelfth rep, he intentionally made his arms tremble. Then, he continued dipping. Brett's eyes widened as his brother passed the 30 rep point with perfect form. He felt the balance of dominance between them shift with every passing set. "50", Jason groaned and stepped down from the dipping station, "You're up, bro." Brett reluctantly grabbed the handles again. By now his chest felt totally exhausted but he couldn't give up just like that. He only got to 6 reps before his form faltered completely. Jason went through his second set, getting to another solid 40 reps. He stepped down and looked at his brother. Brett simply shook 'no' and pretended to suffer from cramp. His mind on the verge of accepting he had been knocked down by his once lanky brother. Jason blasted through three more sets of 35 dips. He inhaled deeply as he stepped down from the dipping station, his stretched tank top protesting with some tearing sounds as his pumped pecs inflated further. "Pec deck is up next, bro", he said. From that point on Brett simply followed his brother through the gym and watched as he pushed out rep after rep, and feeling him get more dominant with every rep. An hour after they'd arrived, Jason finished his fifth set of pushups and got up. His sweat-drenched tank top was glued to his pumped torso. "Enough for today", he grunted and walked toward the locker room, not even looking at his brother. None of the brothers spoke a word when they began stripping off their workout gear in the locker room. Both of them knowing that the balance of dominance had shifted completely and definitively. Brett's mind was still processing the acceptance of being taken down a notch and Jason was savoring in his new position. "Someone pumped his pecs today." Brett turned around at the remark and saw Sam entering the locker room and admiring his brother's chest. His eyes widened as the guy stepped up to his brother and groped the pumped mass of muscle atop his chest. "Ya like feeling a real chest, don't ya", Jason asked while he let the smaller guy worship his pecs. "Come on. Flex 'em, J.", Sam pleaded. Brett just stared at the unbelievable scene in front of him. Jason grinned and flexed his chest, making striations explode under the smaller guy's touch. "Ya know what to do, Sam", he said casually while he stared right into his brother's eyes. Brett's eyes widened when the smaller guy kneeled, slid down his brother's pants to reveal his plump cock and took it in his mouth. He couldn't believe what was happening right there in the center of the locker room. It was as if he wasn't there for those two guys and his brother kept staring directly into his eyes with a smug expression on his face. Within seconds Jason spilled his load into Sam's eager mouth. When his orgasm wore off, he pulled his cock from the guy's mouth and walked to the shower zone. "Don't ya need a shower, bro?", he asked as he passed his brother. Brett watched Sam stand up and disappear and followed his brother's example. The next morning Brett awoke late. His parents had already left for work and his brother was apparently still in his room as he walked into the bathroom. He ditched his boxers and entered the long walk-in shower. He turned on the shower and enjoyed the hot water cascading down on his body. A grin formed on his face as he thought back at the countless times he'd jerked off against the tilled wall. Lately even his morning wood seemed less hard than at the end of summer. A faint noise caught his attention and he turned off the water. He turned around and a yelp escaped his mouth as he saw his fully nude brother standing at the entrance of the walk-in shower. "What the fuck, Jason", he said angrily while he put his hands in front of his cock. "I asked if ya were done here, little bro", Jason replied grinningly. His deepened baritone easily rivaling his brother's deep voice. Brett didn't react to the 'little bro'. He just stared at his brother's grown body. Standing just a few feet away, his brother looked truly intimidating. Just a few months earlier no one would have told they were brothers: he outsized Jason by a good 60 pounds. Now the tables had turned. Despite being close to his brother's weight, Brett's 212 pounds seemed way less intimidating than Jason's 215 pounds. Brett's muscles seemed a bit saggy: his pecs hung slightly as if their weight pulled them down and his shoulders hunched forward making his posture lack his once usual aura of strength and confidence. Jason on the other hand radiated power: his pecs protruded firmly from his chest and his wide shoulders formed a strong line capped with his rounded delts. His now squared face added to his masculine look. The guy seemed to ooze power and confidence. Jason grinned smugly while his brother scanned his torso. "Miring my bod like after all our workouts in the gym shower, little bro?", he asked casually. Brett tore his gaze from the ripped six-pack and focused on his brother's eyes. He blinked when he realized he had to look up slightly to stare Jason in the eye. "I'm no longer just technically the bigger brother", Jason said, "How big are yar arms?". "18 inches", Brett replied and tensed his right arm to show off his size. "18.5 inches cold", Jason replied. He raised his arms and threw a double bicep pose to emphasize his point. Brett could only stare as his brother displayed his superior form. Ever since their workout the balance of dominance had shifted entirely in favor of his brother and now Brett felt how Jason was imposing his alpha-status completely. "What does half an inch really mean", he muttered unconvincingly. Jason hardened his flex some more in reply to his brother's remark. "We both know what it means, little bro", he groaned and relaxed his pose. "Besides, I'm bigger everywhere", he added. "Huh?", Brett muttered as he pretended not to know what his brother meant. Jason stepped closer while he casually stroked his cock, grabbed his brother's ass and pulled him in. Their hard cocks brushed against each other. "See what I mean, little bro?", he asked. Brett followed his brother's gaze down and inhaled sharply: his brother's cock pressed into his the base below his cock while his own cock lay atop his brother's dick without touching his brother's groin and didn't rival his brother's one in girth either. "See, little bro. Mine's longer and thicker than yours. I'm bigger everywhere!", Jason boomed and savored his new dominant status. His erection jolted underneath his brother's hard dick. Brett broke from his brother's grasp and took a step back. "How did you do it, Jason?", he asked, "you were a runt before I left and now you're…". "The bigger man, ya mean", Jason rumbled, "I cast a curse. When you train, my body gains the size you would have gained. The more ya train, the bigger I get. And ya can't stop training or ya'll lose yar scholarship. So, ya will only make me bigger and bigger, little bro." "Cursed me?", Brett let out, "You're just on steroids. Now get lost so I can shower in peace." "Ya're in no position to tell me what to do, little bro", Jason said, "How many times did ya storm in here when I was showering and told me to leave? Flexing yar arms to intimidate me? Mocking me with yar brawn being superior to me brain? Guess what, little bro: I have brains and brawn now. I'm the new alpha here. Ya should now yar new place." Brett retreated some more, his back pressing against the tilled wall. He had never felt this intimidated before and his once runty brother was doing it to him. He saw his brother come closer and reaching for him. He tried resisting but his weakened body was no match for his now buff brother. Jason easily pushed his brother's arms aside and grabbed his armpits. He turned his brother around and made him face the tilled wall. His 8,5 incher pointed straight at his brother's meaty ass. Brett put his hands against the tilled wall and tried pushing his body away from the wall but his brother held on to his armpits firmly. "Let me go, Jason. you can shower in peace", he mumbled. The words died on his lips as he felt the head of his brother's cock brush against his ass. "No", he mumbled. Jason ignored his brother's cries and shoved his dick into the tight hole. He moaned in pleasure as he busted through the clenched defenses and felt the ass clamp against his cock. "Please….", Brett pleaded in vain. Pain exploded through his body as his brother rammed his cock entirely into his ass. His hands clawed against the tilled walls and a high painful shriek escaped his mouth. "Ya're the little bro now. I'm the new alpha here", Jason moaned, grabbed hold of his brother's hips and began pumping his cock in and out of his brother's clenching ass. Tears leaked from Brett's eyes as his brother installed his total dominance. He felt humiliated beyond anything he'd ever felt. He felt his brother's hot breath against his neck and his brother's deep moans rumbled in his right ear with every thrust of the cock in his ass. His arms trembled and his entire body rocked on the rhythm of his brother's fucking. He looked down and to his horror he noticed that his own cock was at full mast and throbbing. Jason heard his brother's painful shrieks and they only excited him more. He was quickly getting close to orgasm and he felt his balls churning while he ravaged the ass of the brother who had physically dominated the family for years. The slow process of destroying his brother's dominance during their workouts and gradually stripping him of his old alphaness now culminated into fucking him into his new role while he assumed Brett's former position at the top of the family hierarchy. He pulled back his cock almost completely and then rammed it with full force into the clenching ass. "YEAH", he roared loudly as he exploded deep inside his brother. Brett shivered as his brother's spunk filled him with liquid heat and the violence of Jason's orgasm shook his own body violently. He felt spurt after spurt after spurt shoot inside him. At the same time his own cock exploded against the tilled wall. "Ughn", he grunted as his balls blasted out four loads of cum. His own moan drowning in the noise of his brother's deeper moans. Unlike before he didn't feel all-powerful as he came inside the shower, this time he felt nothing but shame. When his blasts stopped, his brother kept squirting his load into him. He felt the sticky juice slide along his legs while his body continued shaking on the rhythm of his brother's thrusts. After eight loads Jason's orgasm finally wore off and he pulled his dick from his brother's ass. "I don't expect to see ya in the gym today, little bro", he grunted and left his humiliated brother in the shower. Brett crashed down, his body destroyed from the fucking by his brother and cried inside the shower that had once made him feel untouchable.
  3. dangerdanger

    Little Diego, Big Bruno

    I've been thinking for a while whether to tell my story or not. Finally, I decided I was over it. It took me some time, I admit it: I've been obsessed with him for more than a year and I couldn't do more than thinking about him, jerking off and walk imaging ways to pay him back. Cause this is a real story, this happened to me. My name is Diego. I was born in NY and lived there all my life. I got to move by myself at the age of 25 and enjoyed my freedom for 5 years living on my own, dating with no attachments and trying to meet as many guys I could. I’ve always felt an attraction for big muscles but I understood that when I was 15 and my parents decided that we were going on vacations with some friends of them: The Patalli Family. They came all the way from Italy with nothing except his little son Jason. After a year they funded one of the most important pizza’s restaurants: The Patalli Pizza. Mr. Patalli was much taller than my family —my dad was 5 foot 6 inch tall, and he was the tallest of all of us—. So Mr. Patalli was a good head taller than my dad, but he wasn’t the tall one in his family. At the age of 19 his little son, Jason wasn’t little anymore: almost a head taller than his dad so imagine how big was for me, I didn’t even reach his shoulders… And what shoulders he had! He ate like an ape but he wasn’t fat at all, he was one of those guys obsessed with training. So he runs every day, trained every day and measure his muscles almost every day. I was quite chubby back then —not super fat— just out of shape and too embarrassed to take out my shirt in public. Pijama party with friends? Shirt. Pool? Shirt. Beach? What do you think? Super Shirt! So our vacations consisted of three of my favorite things: Share room with another “kid”, go to the pool with another “kid” and yes… go to the beach with another “kid”. And to make things worse he wasn’t the same type of kid I was… no mister. He was the type of training growing hulking muscles type of kid. Awesome! I was not only ashamed of myself, I got to share every day with someone that would make me feel even inferior to how I felt. Where were we? Helllooo!!! Florida!! Living Hell! So there we were: at the beach. My mom and dad decided to go for a walk —Nice! Forget about me cruel ones!—. Ms. and Mr. Patalli left Jason and run to the casino or some other depressing place. And there we were. Young Chubby Diego and Big Stud Jason. And then I started to feel dizzy. Jason took off his shirt very slowly like those guys in the TV. Like pooling the flag of victory for all to see. As the shirt started rising I got to see his waist just a little bigger than mine but with no fat, his well-defined abs and then his wings… the biggest back I have ever seen in my short life. After he was done his chest fell like an avalanche. Two perfect pillows filled with muscles. —What are you looking at, fag? —he said and flexed his chest. Oh my god. That was it: I died. Just in front of me, there was the body I’ve been jerking to without knowing it. My brain said: That’s it, buddy, I’m getting out of here! Jason laughs and tossed his shirt before going away. I will always remember his huge muscle back while running. Every part of this body defined against the sun. Hard, shiny, amazing… Stop right there! Don’t think that that was all… It was far from being over for poor little Diego. Our parents had rented a single apartment for the six of us. So Jason and I had to share the same room every night… and how was it almost every night? Our parents went out to dinner, and Jason did almost the same with his friends… It was only me who stayed to guard our castle. Brave of me, isn’t it? I can hear you screaming: Looooser! You have your point. But wait! Don’t rush! Because there was this night… —Bye, guys! —said my mom— Have fun! The key locked the door from outside and there I was laying on my bed watching facebook on my phone just to avoid thinking about anything… especially that Jason canceled his date and was in the other bed… laying on his back and chatting on his phone… wearing a very very very short pair of shorts that left his huge built and long legs exposed in all their mighty. Pure horse strength… —Ok, little man, count —he said. —What? —I said. And before I could think about anything he took off his shirt and lay down on the floor just next to me to do an impossible amount of pushups… 40… 60… 80… I was about to burst into flames… so did his body. I looked at his rounded shoulders and triceps work like a machine. Up. Down. Up. Down. And grow grow grow and what do you think? Of course! Fucking grow! When he was done he stood up —he was not even breathing hard but his chest was like expanding on every single drop of air he took— and clapped his hands to said: —How much do you weigh, fag? —Are you talking to me? —I didn’t say that of course, but my brain did while packing his stuff before leaving… —Don’t know… 110 pounds? —Really?… —he seemed disappointed (I was too)—. Too little, man, ok come on… —said by opening his big arms. The most impressive arms I’ve ever seen in my short life (yes, I know I said this before… every part of me back then was like that: short). Did I move? What do you think? Of course not! I was dead! My brain was in exile… I was chained to that bed! But this wasn’t a problem for big and powerful Jason. He ducks by my side and lifted me like I weight nothing… even worse… he said: —You weight nothing… Kill me, God! And there I was in the play of a helpless princess… or a baby doll… or a potato bag… firmly held against his chest… my check was against it… and it felt smooth and strong and hard and hot… His biceps were bulging against my back… in a few words: I was feeling the strength of his body. —Count! —he said and started to squat while holding me. How many squats he did? Forget it! My mouth was doing something that my memory will never remember. My eyes were fixed on that chest by my side… and since then I’m number one fan of big chests. I do remember his muscles stretching and flexing, he was shining and tanned from swimming at the beach. He also was laughing. I don’t blame him (I love him, for Christ sake!). I would have done the same if I were him. Imaging being held by a man way taller than you and not only way-way stronger but filled with muscles and hard after an impossible warmup. I felt protected and afraid at the same time. His chest and shoulders were tight against my body and with every movement of his legs (legs that after that grew to be 2x their original size), I felt his biceps tensing. He was a man at 19 and I was just 4 years younger but a super small and chubby kid. I felt he could protect me If the ceiling fell. I dream awake about that many times. I imagined the two of us being in a small room, small enough so his naked chest had to be above me and then the ceiling would fell off… why? Who knows!! I only know he would raise his hands to hold it while his muscles would explode in size. —Don’t be afraid, little man. I have it —he would say smiling. Of course, you have it! You have the biggest body I’ve ever seen! I wouldn’t say that, of course! I would just look at his chest, shoulders and arms growing because of the effort of saving me from being crushed… A pure man. Huge. Strong. And bigger just because I was small. OK! Enough of the dream! Let's go back to that terrible (Who am I kidding? Wonderful) night… Jason ended his training and after that, he put me down and tousled my hair like the child I was. —Thank you for being my dumb-bell, fag—said and sprint to the bathroom. Clever. Wasn’t he? Dumb-bell! I would have killed you, Jason, if I wasn't the poor kid obsessed with muscles I was. Ok. ten years have pass from that. I was leaving alone and guess what? I was training. I was going to the gym three times a week and after two months of being unable to do a single pull up I did my first and my second pull up. Success! I was strong… ha! Forget it! Now I know what was I doing wrong… but back then I didn’t. I didn’t ask no one about a routing. Forget it! I was too shy! Or too crazy… I built my own idea of training… which was 2 hours in the gym!! Impossible long routines that had almost no effect. So that lasted for a while. I did grew stronger but there was almost no sign in my body. There was that unbeaten fat covering every possible muscle I could build. So by the age of 27, I was a simple man… not a kid anymore but not a stud neither. I was 5 foot 5 (Michael fucking Jordan, people!) and weighed 145 pounds… ok ok! Stop throwing things! Ouch! That hurt, mister! I was trying, for Christ sake! At 30 I discovered three things: how to do a proper routing at the gym, how to eat for your body to answer your prayers and finally and most important: Bruno. I got to chat with him once. We sent pictures to each other and that was it. He was a little bit taller than me, was fit like one of those guys that are fit by nature but don’t train to get better at it: fuck off, man! So I didn’t payed him that much of attention. But it seemed I was the type of men he liked. He asked me once to go out, and I said “sorry, can’t”. Bitch! Same thing happened a week after that and then he disappeared. Don’t get me wrong, I'm not one of those guys that want just a hulking man to appear and fuck their brains out. I mean, I would love that to happen but to be honest I was one of those guys that need a pervert on the other side. I remember once a guy, lets call it X. We sent pictures to each other, I didn’t like him but he did like me. And what did he said? —Oh! You are tiny! —What? —my dick answered. —Yes! You are super short! That was it! I had to meet this huge beast that was calling me tiny. I travel over there with the biggest hard-on of my life. And what happened? The bold one that opened the door was just 3 inches taller than me! Disappointment! I let him kiss me and touch me until I said: enough. And left him with nothing. Bitch, again! So, what about Bruno? At least from our chats, he sounded like one of those guys that are sweet and easy going. Laughing all the time and maybe a little sissy. I didn’t like that at all and sometimes it was even hard for me to stand. I was a single man that looked exactly like any other man from NY with better clothing. Ha! —Wanna go out? —he asked for the third time. It was a cold night, it was the cruelest winter ever and I felt lonely and wanted someone to at least talk to. —Sure —I said. We met in a cafe. Bruno had his hair short, like a soldier. But he didn’t look like a soldier at all. He was thin, he bent his wrists and neck too much and laugh out loud almost like my aunt does. He was cute but too sissy for me. He talked about anything, he told me he danced a lot and asked me if I liked to do some sports. —Gym —I said. —Oh, nice! I like big muscles! —he said with a perverted grin. Are you kidding? Fuck off! I didn’t want a fag to be in my place. We don’t look the same, we are not the same, we have nothing in common! (That was my brain saying). And then he added: —I do spinning! Spinning! That is for girls! I could tell I was 100% his type while at the same time he was 0% my type. Mr. Heart breaker with you, people! That was it for Bruno… or that was what I thought. I blocked him. Winter ended. Spring came again and parks filled with people running. I did that too. Every Saturday I went for a long run. So there I was running shirtless and a little more confident, I admit it. I sported at least some V shape, not too defined, not too big. Just a decent one. And guess who I stomp with? Daaa! Bruno! —Hey! —he said waving his hand while running in my direction. Ok, let's do it fast. I didn’t want for someone to see me with him. And then I saw it. He was wearing very tight shorts, those lycra ones. What could I said? He was thin… I mean fit. He was fitter than I was, not too much. Probably same muscles but much less fat… except from his legs… Horse legs. Muscles over muscles, like two legs putted together to make a single but strong one and defined… and on top of that the most rounded and built ass I’ve ever seen. I wasn’t that much fan of asses and legs… but FUCK OFF!! Sexiness from down to top. It was like he only trained (like mad) up to his midsection and the rest came just by nature. He was fit, but too thin for me to look at. But his legs… my god. I wanted just to touch them. There was this muscle above his knee that bulged like… like… like a muscle above a knee bulging. —What? —I said. Mr. eloquent with you, people! —Training a lot, ha? —he said looking at me (at my body actually). I wasn’t a model, not even near but let say… fuck me! Who was I kidding? This guy looked like a fucking god… especially his legs. —Same there —I said pointing at his legs. He laughed like a shy girl. —Spinning effects… —he said moving them like two tree trunks— Its hard to fit into some pants. Kill me, god! Kill me, now! —Really? —I’m a genius. —Hey, you blocked me! —he said throwing a sissy fist to my shoulder— And I liked you! —What? Really? Someone kill my brain! —Really. Ok, it was nice to see you! And then he ran away. With his huge legs making a wonderful job there, tensing, expanding, flexing. And his ass jumping and doing magic. That night I unblocked him and started chatting. —I saw you looking at my legs —he said without hesitation. —Yep —I was about to die! —Ha! It was nice. A few days after I got him naked in my bed. He was fitter than I was, but somehow you didn’t see that when he was wearing any clothes on. It was like he didn’t like to have muscles but he did somehow… stupid nature! But after I saw his legs once I couldn’t help to look at them even with his long pants on. Biggest legs I ever felt. Filled with muscles, flexing at every movement. Strong and powerful. —So you are into big muscles, ha? —he said and flexed his leg for me. I was in ecstasy. It was like fucking a horse that sounded like a girl. It was a little bit confusing but he looked like a real man at least from waist to bottom. And what a bottom!!! Each leg of him was two times any of my legs. —Too much spinning makes you grow, you know? —he said. —Fuck you! —I said rubbing his muscles over and over again. —Yes, please! And that was how we started dating. Dating Bruno was easy and hard at the same time. The sex part was easy of course. I just needed to see him naked to sport a club that he would be pleased to suck like crazy and after that, he would give me his butt for me to play. So, he was passive and left me the rest for my enjoyment. I loved it. The hard part was the “social” part. I didn’t want for people to think “Look at those gays”, just “Look a single man, just the rest of the man in the universe”. Nothing special, just a regular guy. But it was impossible with Bruno. Not because of his enormous legs which people never mentioned (Don’t know why or how or what????) but because of his… sissiness? Most of the time he was 70% manly 30% you know what… but there were some times he was 0% manly… and KILL ME, LORD! I WANTED TO DISAPPEAR FROM EARTH. So did I introduce him to my friends? Some, just some girls. Forget about my other friends!. Did I introduce him to my parents? NO WAY, MISTER! (or MISSES depending on the day). I couldn’t stand it. I was too embarrassed to do so. So no family, no friends. What did we do together? Fuck most of the time of course. Read. Go out from time to time. I liked a lot the way he liked me (I could even tell he was in love with me) but I found it impossible to stand that side of him. I wanted a man, not a girl. Hello!!!?? Ok ok… you know what is like. So what happened? I decided to do something about it. —Why don’t you go to the gym? —I said to him once. —To the gym? Why? I don’t like it! And besides that, what for? —Don’t know… —of course I knew—To build some muscles… you could use them… He looked me with that evil grin that I despised so much. —You can’t help it, right? —said flexing his legs like he did nothing— Are you that obsessed? I had to jump to feel that muscles on his legs, so I couldn’t answer that. I was to busy licking them. —Let's do this —he said— I’ll go if we go together! And that was when I jumped like a cat when you try to get wet. —No!! —I said on the other corner of the bed. —Why not? —he said and his expression went from happy to confused. —Don’t know… I don’t feel like it… —You are ashamed of me, ha? Ashamed I'm not as manly as you would like to. —Pfff, of course not! —I can see it, you know. I'm not stupid. And like that, we had our first fight. We stop seeing each other for two weeks. I didn’t even send him a text message. I was angry and confused. Then I think about it again and again and again (my brain was exhausted because of that much thinking) and I realize I behave like shit. —I'm sorry… —I texted him. —No, you are not —he answered. —Of course, I am, you idiot horse! —I used to call him like that. Horse. Man-Horse. Centaur. All things related to my favorite part of him. —I miss that… —Me too… —and without thinking about it I added— I want to go to the gym with you. And then it all started. Did you ever ask yourself: Am I gifted? With your body I mean. Like genetically gifted. I never asked myself that, until I saw Bruno training. He knows nothing about. He didn’t even like to do the exercises but somehow he was good at it. And to make things worse he progressed like crazy. March - Me 154.324 pounds, Bruno 170.132 pounds (Because of his legs of course) I had to teach him every movement and build a routing to fit his current muscle development. So let's make things clear. I wasn’t either huge or strong. I was training for more than 5 years and let say I could lift some weight. And Bruno? Nothing! Zero! It was like a girl trying to do it well for her coach. I mean: he had those monstrous legs that could split me in half, that would outrun me every time we would sprint together, he would never get tired, he could do endless squats and jump impossible distances. But he never trained his upper body before. The day after the first day he complained like a girl. Every muscle was hurting. He even spent the whole day in bed. I thought it was too much but he insisted and almost cry out when I pushed him out. Ok, Mister Weak! But when we reach week three he complained no more. He was even enjoying going to the gym. He still refused to lift more weight. —I like you being the strong one —he said. But besides that, he was gaining some weight, and it wasn’t any fat. April Me 156.200, Bruno 176.012 So by April that was the schema. He outweighs me by 20 pounds. But he was lifting the same weights. Doing the same repetitions. And at the same time, I was training even harder. I was lifting a lot (for my weight and size). It was on the end of that month that one night while we were having sex and he was down on his knees I notice the difference on his back. It was way broader and some muscles were starting to appear. And then it started to happen. Every day that passed muscles were coming to view. Big, rounded and defined muscles. He laughed out of it. May Me 155 pounds (Cruel god!) Bruno 190 pounds Ok… there was something strange going on. But fuck! I was kind of enjoying it. At the gym, it was confusing to see someone as defined and big as Bruno (he was now way bigger than me) lifting such small weight. But on the bed, it was like my dream come true. I had a muscle stud just for me to fuck. Gym started to become an issue though. I mean I was killing myself and he was not even trying. Not for real. He was just doing the exercises I told him to do. But his body was growing like crazy. His chest expanded like his back. His shoulders duplicated their sizes and his arms did the same. The most impressive thing was his forearms, they grew so much that it was scary. And then I fell. I started to do an exercise just for my forearms, and what happened? I got injured! Tendinitis in both my wrists. I had to rest for two months. What happened then? I realized that Bruno was getting taller. It seemed that his body didn’t have enough growing muscles, he also needed to be tall (Fuck off, god!). He was already taller than me when we started dating, 2 inches was a lot back then… but after two months he reached 5 foot 9. It was impossible. He was not only built like a tank but also tall as a tree (for me, at least). And what about his legs? For christ sake! They were even bigger than before! —I feel great —he said once squatting and flexing his muscles in front of the mirror. It was like looking a young bodybuilder preparing himself for the competition. June Me 150 pounds Bruno 212 pounds Even though we stopped training Bruno not only kept on growing, he was getting taller too!. By the end of June, he was 6 foot tall. It was like seeing someone inflate in front of your eyes. Not only his muscles were growing, but his back was starting to be almost as wide as the door, and his chest… OMG! Two stones put together. It was like his body tried to reach the point of this legs (with no success because those monster legs were out of any league). When we have sex I felt I was fucking a real horse just because of this size. I needed to ask him to extend his legs so I could reach with my dick to THAT point. —I can’t believe you still getting bigger… —Mmmmm —What? —I didn’t… stop training… —What????????? —It was you who got injured! Not me! —But you told me you didn’t like to go on your own! —Yeah… but I changed my mind…! I like it now. —I bet you do, bitch! —Who are you calling, bitch, you runt? And after saying that he lifted and tossed me to the bed like a weight nothing. —Ha! I love being strong! —he said flexing both his arms. He wasn’t just strong: he was strength itself. July Me 148 pounds Bruno ??? In July my parents invited me on a trip to Europe. I thought about that for a while and then I decided I would like to go on vacations for a while. I remember the last night with Bruno on his bed. He was laying on his back with this arms extended next to his face. It was a vision of power. That morning I buried my face in his chest and then took a taxi. We visited Madrid, Paris, London, and many other cities. It was a great time. And I got some time to recover from my wrists. When I got back to NY I texted Bruno: —I'm back! —I'm running! See you in the park! I changed my clothes and run like a schoolboy desperate to meet his bests friends. But instead of meeting my friend I got to see this huge muscle stud tall as a tree running towards me. It was a vision that everyone could see and was seeing and pointing and owing and who knows what else... How much tall? Don’t know! 6 foot 4? 6 foot 5? HUUUUUGE! But not only tall. Built like two tanks. Every step he made transformed his muscles from soft to hard in milliseconds. It was the vision of paradise. —You shrunk! —he said laughing when he reached me. —What? —again my brain. I was looking directly to his chest. And what a chest… Broad. Big. —I can tell you like it —he said stretching his arms so I could admire the size, definition, and size (yeah, again!) of his body. —Fuck off! What to say? It was a dream come true. I was dating the biggest, strongest, tallest of all. But the thing was this: he was still the same sissy guy, except he was two heads taller now and 250 pounds. It was more than confusing. August (lets stop this measure thing for a while, ok?) The first night after I got back we slept together at his place. And guess what happened next morning? When I woke up I was alone in his bed (his new king size bed, actually)… and then I heard him. I moved myself to his side. Right next to his bed there was Bruno… doing pushups… and he was counting. —94… 95… 96… 97… 98… 99… 100 And with a quick movement he stood up. —Hey! —said the huge piece of a man. —Wow…! —Ha! You like it? —said and flex both arms. Two big mountains erupted from his arms. —Are you ok? —I said. —What do you think? —he said and flexed his chest… —Wow…! —Count…! —he said and started doing pull-ups in his new pull up bar. What is it with the counting thing? Does every stud needs for a tiny friend to count for them? —Ok! —said my cheerleader side (kill me, god!) Guess how many reps he did… easy… one fucking hundred… And after that he was not even tired… —How much do you weigh, fag? —Are you talking to me? —I did said that— You know how much! —Haha! I know you were too little, man, ok come on… —said by opening his big arms. The most impressive arms I’ve ever seen in my not so short life Did I move? What do you think? Of course, I didn’t! I wanted him to lift me up! And so he did! He ducks by my side and lifted me like I weight nothing… even worse… he said: —You weight nothing… Kill me, God! And there I was AGAIN in the play of a helpless princess… or a baby doll… or a potato bag… firmly held against his chest… my check was against it… and it felt smooth and strong and hard and hot… His biceps were bulging against my back… in a few words: I was feeling the strength of his body. —Count! —he said and started to squat while holding me. He was much bigger than Jason when he did the same (I was starting to believe there was something weird on me that pushed muscle studs to do the same thing with me) and way stronger. —You like it —he said looking at my dick. But he was enjoying it as well. There is a thing I didn’t mention before just because I was to busy with the muscle thing. There was his dick “issue”. Back then when we met that thing was a regular 4.7 inches (little less than my 5.9). But now… it was… how to say it? huge? big? it was a 12 inches long python! and big as a club! So the squat game was done… of course, he did his 100 reps… and guess what!? —Let's go to the bathroom —he said still carrying me like a paper ball. He stepped in front of the big mirror that filled the wall and let me… sit in his huge dick. —Haha! There you go! Enjoy the ride, tiny man! How does it feel to ride my huge cock?! Haha! Look at me! I'm huge everywhere! What am I? Four times your size? Look at this muscles! Look how big is my chest! And my fucking arms! I'm a beast! I feel so fucking strong! Haha! Look at you, you are so fucking small next to my body! Do you like the view little man? Are you enjoying my muscles? I could rape you if I wanted to! haha! What do you say? Do you want me to show you how big and strong I am? How’s that? Do you want me to show you how strong I am? Do you want to see what can this muscles do? Oh, fuck, I'm going to explode. And by saying that he lifted me and he impale me into his cock. I let out a scream like I never did before. —haha! You like it, tiny man! That’s how it feels a real man! And he lifted me again and impale me (again) but this time I was facing his huge body! I placed both my tiny hands on his chest to say: —Please, don't! You are too big! —Haha! I know! I'm a real man! Take a big breath, little man! I'm going to fuck your tiny ass like a man! And he did! At least until I passed out! Life continues as it was… But there were certain things that change from one day to the other. The “me fucking him” idea was over. I mean, imagine a 145-pound person trying to fuck a 270 pound, pure muscles giant. Each of his legs was bigger than my two legs together and his ass was like two mountains right next to the other. I was dying to fuck him but every time I tried to move into that direction something like this happened: —What are you doing, little man? You think you can fuck this beast? —and he would flex some muscles to show how big and strong he was— Comer here, feel this —he would say flexing his chest right in front of me —you feel that? —So strong… —I'm a genius, I know. —That’s it, little man! I'm a fucking monster! So… do you want to fuck this body? —he would say while standing up— In order to fuck this body you have to beat me… Ok, come one, little man. Haha, you are so tiny! You don’t even reach my chest, anymore! Haha ok ok, lets do this! If you lift me once I let you fuck me. —Fuck off, I'm not going to lift you… —Come oooon! Don’t be afraid! I’ll be nice, little man! I know I’m fucking huge and I’m way stronger than you. I mean, you look like a kid to me. People must think I'm your big brother. Well I’m big! ha! Nah, don’t be afraid! I’ll let you win this time. So you want to fuck this ass, right? Look at it! Come closer, have a piece of it! You see the size of it? Look at these legs! Huge! I have more muscles in one leg than you on your tiny body! —Ok, ape! You have a challenge! —That's my boy! Come on, give me a hug! —he would say lifting me to bury my head in his chest. Then he put me down and stand up in all his might. —Are you ready? Come here, try to lift this body. So I did! I grab his legs, or at least I try and then I push with all my strength up… and up… and up…. and fuck off!!! Nothing! not even an inch from the ground! —Haha, what happens little man? Am I too heavy? Are my muscles to big for you? Haha, you are so cute! Let me show you how a real man does these things! And by saying that he would throw me into the bed and after that guess what… he lifted the entire bed with me on it way above his head! —There you go, little man! This is how a real man does it? Do you mind if I train some shoulders? And there I go! Down, up, down, up and down again. —Haha, that was easy —bed was back to the floor and there he was flexing his muscles— I'm to big, little man! Come here, hang from my bicep! He flexed his arm and I grab myself from it. He lifted me up and down just by flexing. —You see my power? I'm way stronger than you’ll ever be. He put me down and made me stand up in front of him (yep, and I was his fucking toy). —You can’t fuck me, little man. You are too small to do that! I'm way-way bigger —and with every word, he would take a step and I would move back… until the wall made me stop. He pushes his body against me. I was pressed between his legs and abs, and that python dick pointing to my head. —Haha, try to move me, little man —so I did with no success—. You can’t, don’t you? I'm too big for you to do that! —and then he would start to jerk off— I'm a fucking beast, little man. And you can’t fuck a beast like me being a tiny man like you. Let me show you how a man does it! And he would fuck the brains out of me. Again I would pass out. So what happened next? What do you think? He asked me to move together. I mean, you would say that for him I was just a toy, but I was his type even I was way-way-way smaller than him, weaker and blah blah blah (not funny). He really liked me. Question is: Was I feeling the same? Mmm hard to say. I mean, I could only jerk off thinking about his chest, muscles and those humiliation sessions that made me go crazy. I mean, he was a monster. Every time I was away from him I wanted to feel his muscles, to touch them. But when he was next to me I was kind of afraid, marveled and stupid. He was too big. Too strong. So he asked me to move together and I said no. Why not? (I can hear you shout insults to my little persona) He was a muscled giant, still, sissy-like hell, dressed like a porn star and talked about muscles all the time, flexed all the time. I couldn’t just let anyone sees me next to that. It was my secret perversion. I was too embarrassed. I wanted no one to know I was a fag for muscles. And what muscles! So, what happened? We fought! He punched a wall and made a hole through it! Jesus! Fuck me! And then looked at me so pissed that I was afraid he would kill me. —I don’t know why I still like you —he said and believe it or not, he started to cry. He packed his things, dressed like a gorilla with a swimming suit and closed the door never to come back again. So life kept going… still… six months later I was single… and happy… I recovered from my injured and went back to train in my gym (every day I thought I might see Bruno again training his mighty body, but that didn’t happen). So I just had wet dreams about him. Think about him. Jerked off thinking about this body. And every time I would fuck someone I would close my eyes thinking about his legs and ass. And now you are asking: did you ever see him again? Oh yes… I fucking did. I got to travel to hell again. My parents rented a place in Florida and there I was. Alone at the beach. Just walking. I was dressed in a nice white shirt and a very nice red shorts. In a few words: sexy. And then I stopped. There, sat in a cement seat was this back… this wall of muscles… It was so big and strong that I had to move closer. I left the sand behind and as soon as I stepped onto the sidewalk I heard him calling: —Diego! —said Bruno— Hey! He didn’t stand up, but even in the seat he was a good head taller than me. I started to feel dizzy. —What? —there was my brilliant brain doing his trick. —Hey! Wassup? Come here! —he said, so I did— How are you? You look great! —Thanks… you look… ahhh —Big? —What? —Haha! Just joking —but he was big, way-way bigger than before. His arms looked like cannon balls and his chest was so wide like a king size bed with two big pillows on top of it! His shoulders were bigger than my head and his legs were so long and filled with muscles. Every part of him looked strong. —So, you kept training? —Haha, what do you think? —he said and flexed his arms. Biceps the size of my head erupted in front of me. —I followed your advice and started to take training seriously. —I can tell. —Haha! I grew like a weed! I think I fell in love of being big, you know. —Yep, I know. —Do you? —he said mocking—Haha! Just joking, you look good too! Are you still training? —From time to time, but I'm not as gifted as you though… —Gifted? me? You never said that! —Well, now I think that. Who do you know that could grow that much in such a short period of time? —Did I grow too much? —he said smiling and tousling himself. Doing that exposed all the size of his bicep for me to watch. —Well… Yeah… maybe… I mean… who grows up to 290 pounds? —290? Haha! You are way outdated, little man! I'm a 360 muscle beast! —and again the flexing bicep thing. —What? —cause, of course, my brain stopped working again. —Haha, you are drooling all over my muscles, man! —Well… you have muscles everywhere… hey, I was thinking… I mean, If you would like to go out some time that would be nice… But then a shadow covered me. —I'm done! —a man said from behind. I turned around just to find a huge and tall black muscle stud a few centimeters from me bare-chested and built like a black horse. I only reached his upper abs, so his wide chest was above my eyes. I looked him in the eyes and smile back. But then something strange happened cause this giant lifted his eyes up like following a mountain. —Let's go then —Bruno said. I’ve noticed he was bigger. But I couldn't measure how much bigger he was. Until he stood up. I was in between this two muscle men. But while the black one was huge, Bruno was way beyond that. For you to understand I was face to face with his dick… the black man just reached to his chests so next to Bruno he didn’t look just small, but also thin. Bruno's muscles expanded as he stood up. He was like a supergiant heavyweight bodybuilder. —This is Diego, Diego this is Africa. Africa? Well, he was big as Africa to me. —Diego? –Africa said— You didn’t tell me he was this small. What??????? —Haha! Well I wasn’t this big back then. But this little man is the most obsessed guy with muscles that I ever met —and then he looked at me and to do so he bend a little to look over his chest— Am I wrong? —What? —I did said that. —Haha! Don’t take it bad! Its ok to like muscles! I like them too! —and he flexed his mighty chest— How’s the view from down there, little man? Am I too big? You don’t even reach my abs anymore! But you can still look at my legs, you used to think they were big! Look at them now, each of them are bigger than your whole buddy! Ha, Im just kidding! Are you ok? You look a little pale! What is it? Are my muscles to big for you? I though that you would come in your pants just by seeing these muscles! Do you remember when I rape you? Could you imagine now? I would fucking kill you! You are like an ant for these muscles! I'm way bigger and stronger! –and then he raised his arms to stretch himself all his huge muscle body— I love to be big. I'm just too much man for you, little man, you know?. Its a pity you didn’t grow. I like you but you are too small for this body. But believe me, my cock is way-way bigger than before and not only that. I like to fight now, you know, —to mark his words he flexed all his body—. I need someone who can challenge me, at least for a while —and he winked to Africa—. I love to fight for sex and I'm way out of your league, Im too strong, to heavy and too much man to be with someone as tiny as you. No offense, im just too big. You see? Some people are just gifted like me tall, strong and filled with muscles. Some others are not. See you, little man. And he tousled my hair and walked away with Africa. I just stood there after coming in my pants, looking at the biggest stud I’ve ever seen in my entire and long life. If that black man was Africa, Bruno’s back was Europe and East Europe altogether, filled with mountains of muscles and strong as all their man together.
  4. Herald

    The muscle app (final part)

    Four Assistant coach Mr. Blake heard the door of his desk shut behind the massive gymnast and he slowly got up, his arms trembling as they supported his weight. More cum flowed from his ravaged ass and dripped along his legs. He pulled up his boxers and pants and wiped the stains of his own cum from the front of his desk. He'd somehow had to come up with a way of getting back Tyler's muscle from the hulking freshman. He needed to act fast to get a star player out on the field for the upcoming match. He inhaled deeply as his mind tried to find a solution. The next morning assistant coach Mr. Blake was setting up workout routines for the team when a faint knock made him look at the door. "Yes", he said. Tyler opened the door. "Can I come in?", he asked. He entered as the assistant coach motioned him to sit down. "I spoke with Chad yesterday", he peeped, "I wanted to make him give back my muscles". "How did it go?", assistant coach Mr. Blake replied. "Well…", Tyler mumbled. His face turned beet red as he relived the scene of sucking off the huge man. His pencil dick jolted in his pants as his mind filled with the image of the muscular perfection Chad had grown into. "He …eum… well… he wouldn't listen", he mumbled. "Thought so", the coach answered and ignored the red glow on the fallen football player's cheeks. "Did you already speak to him?", Tyler asked. Now it was the assistant coach's turn to blush. "Hum", he said and cleared his throat as he moved in his chair, his worn out ass sending shots of pain through him in response to remind him of the encounter with Chad. "I… tried", he added, "but he didn't listen either. I tried convincing him to give your muscle back but he refused. He didn't even wanted to join the team and put his muscle to use". "His muscle?", Tyler peeped angrily, "My muscle! I will go to the dean. He will force Chad to give back my muscle!". "No!", assistant coach Mr. Blake let out loudly, "That's a very bad idea. Think how the dean will react when you tell him someone stole your muscles. He will probably think you're on drugs. You will get expelled". "I will show him pictures of me. And of Chad", Tyler said. "You will have to admit you stole Chad's muscles first", the assistant coach replied, "Besides I'll lose my job if you reveal that I experimented on students. Then you will never have a chance to get your muscles back." The harsh reality of Mr. Blake's words hailed down on Tyler. Tears welled up in the diminished athlete's eyes. His mind frantically trying to find a way to get back his former size. "Tom", he peeped suddenly. "What about Tom?", assistant coach Mr. Blake answered. "He's my best friend", Tyler spat out rapidly, "If we tell him what happened, he'll help." "How could he help?", assistant coach Mr. Blake asked doubtfully. "He's among the biggest guys on campus. He could easily beat up Chad. Then we could force him to give back my muscles", Tyler said with a grin. "I don't know", assistant coach Mr. Blake replied, "Chad's a few pounds heavier than Tom now". "If we take him by surprise, Tom can take him. I'm sure of it", Tyler stated. The more assistant coach Mr. Blake let the idea run through his mind, the more he liked it. It wasn't a nice solution, but it was their only chance. He did remember the statement of the head coach that not winning the title this year would cost him his job. He nodded slowly as he accepted the plan. "Text Tom to come to my office asap", he said to the now smiling Tyler. Chad opened the door of his room and stared down on his two neighbors. "What's up, boys?", he asked. Keith and Paul took a step backward instinctively. The two freshmen were totally intimidated by the hulking, bare-chested gymnast that filled the opening completely. "We brought ya something", Keith said and handed a bag to Chad. "Saw it and thought it would suit ya", Paul added. Chad took the bag, opened it and pulled a tank top from it. A smug grin formed on his face as he recognized the Captain America logo. "Come on in", he said and stepped back in his room. Keith and Paul entered. They stared at the hulking man who put on the tank top. "Hope it fits. Biggest size we could find", Keith stated. "Bit tight", Chad rumbled and let his meaty muscle stretch the skintight fabric. "Fuck. You would dwarf the actual Captain America", Paul said in total awe, "How big are your arms?". "Not sure", Chad replied, "Haven't measured them recently. Ya boys wanna check them? There's a tape in my desk". Keith and Paul rushed over to the desk, nearly pulling out the top drawer as they practically fought for the tape. "Easy there, boys", Chad said laughingly, "there's enough of me for both of ya". Paul snatched the tape from Keith's grasp and stepped up to the massive man. His heart pounding nervously as he stood in front of the hulking gymnast. "Seems like you won", Chad rumbled and held out his right arm. Paul's hand shook with anticipation as he placed the tape atop the meaty arm. His fingers roamed the bulk of the stretched, yet rounded bicep. Keith eagerly joined in, letting his fingers follow the thick vein at the side of the bicep. "Thought ya wanted to measure my arm", Chad said smugly as the two freshmen worshipped his stretched arm. He slowly raised his forearm, making his bicep mound upward in the process. Keith and Paul marveled as the steely meat under their fingers hardened and rose upward and outward. Paul clumsily dropped the tape as the perfectly round orb of beefy muscle flexed into its full size. He and Keith stared in disbelief at the ball of striated, vein-crossed muscle. "Well. Measure it!", Chad barked at the frozen freshmen. Paul retrieved the tape and wrapped it around the insanely muscled arm. He pulled it tight and his eyes widened as he read off the number. "24 inches", he muttered and joined Keith in his touching of the hot, stone-hard ball of muscle. "Fuck yeah", Chad roared, "Ever felt an arm this big and hard, boys?". He hardened his flex some more. Keith and Paul couldn't believe the hardness of the bicep under their touch. No matter how they tried, they couldn't dent the surface. Instead the muscle pried open their hands as it hardened even more. Their cocks had hardened fully in their pants just from touching the statue-like bicep. Chad enjoyed having his arm worshipped beyond anything he'd ever felt. The thought of making everyone he met lust after him sent a jolt through his own cock. "Mmhm", he groaned as Paul's hands slid under his tank top and explored the ridges of his mighty eight-pack while Keith kept feeling his bicep. Suddenly the door of the room flew open and Tom stood in the doorway. He'd come to the assistant coach's office right away when he'd gotten Tyler's text earlier. He'd listened with a perplexed look on his face to the incredible story Mr. Blake had told him. If the runty Tyler hadn't been standing next to the assistant coach, he would have never believed the story. "We'll make him give back your muscle. No one messes with my friends", he'd yelled as he'd stormed out of the assistant coach's office. "I hope I'm not interrupting the fags", he spat out sarcastically as he entered the room. Keith and Paul retreated against the furthest wall when they saw the angry look on the team captain's face. They knew they didn't stand a chance against the way bigger man. Chad just looked back at Tom, taking in the man's size. "You stole Tyler's muscle. Give them back. NOW!", Tom shouted angrily. "Okay. Okay", Chad pleaded, "I'll give it back. Please don't hurt me". He noticed Tyler and assistant coach Mr. Blake also entering behind Tom. "Really?", Tom asked incredulously, taking aback by the lack of resistance. "Off course not, dumbass", Chad barked in response, "You didn't really think I would give up my muscles?". "Have it your way then", Tom replied and smacked his right fist into the palm of his left hand, "I'm gonna enjoy this". "Careful, Tom", Tyler peeped as he drank in the sight of Chad's muscles stretching the tank top. Tom sized up the other big man and noted he was a few inches taller than the guy. "Don't worry, man. Short guys always look bigger than they are", he said to comfort his friend. He took a step toward his opponent. Chad didn't wait for the huge football player's first move. With an unexpected agility for a man his size he jumped forward. He pulled back his right fist, his thick bicep balling up in the process, and launched it against the athlete's stomach. Tom didn't even have time to blink. One moment he saw the hulking gymnast standing at the end of his bed, the next the guy's fist collided with his abs. The punch felt like a wrecking ball as it hit him. It blasted through the defenses of his muscle gut, busted his abs and pushed the wind out of him. He bent over by the force of the impact. He inhaled deeply to fill his lungs again while his eyes darted up to see the second punch coming. The steely fist hit his muscle gut again and sank deep into the battered abs. He folded double completely as pain exploded from his agonizing stomach through his entire body. Black dots danced before his eyes as the air was once more knocked out of him. He didn't even see the third punch coming. He just felt the impact as the fist hit the bottom of his chin. The force of the blow sent him stumbling backwards until his wide back fell against the wall. He wrapped an arm around his agonizing stomach in protection and raised his other arm in defense while he tried to catch his breath. He couldn't believe the huge gymnast had nearly taken him out with just three blows. His mind urged him to get away, but his legs didn't respond. He looked up into the hulking man's eyes. Chad saw the hint of panic in the big athlete's eyes and swiftly moved in. He threw another punch in the red stomach. Tom folded double as steely fist destroyed his abs and excruciating pain exploded through his body. The moment he bent over, he felt a large paw grab his throat. His hands clutched at the meaty forearm while he felt his body being lifted up. The next moment his feet left the ground, the room seemed to spin around and he was slammed down hard. He yelped in pain as his back collided with the hard floor. Assistant coach Mr. Blake stepped in but a nod of Chad made Paul and Keith each grab one of his arms. He tried to resist but the two athletes held him secured. Chad looked down in triumph on the beaten athlete. He felt all-powerful having taken down the star football player. An idea formed in his mind. "Tyler", he barked at the runty boy, "Bring me the device and the electrodes". Tyler jumped up at the command and went over to the assistant coach. He fished the device and the electrodes from Mr. Blake's pocket and turned around to give them to Chad. In the meantime Chad had ripped off Tom's clothes and tossed the bulky athlete atop his bed. He was stripping off his own boxers as Tyler came standing next to him. "Who looks better?", he asked laughingly and took the device from the boy. Tyler's eyes shot from the nude Tom atop the bed to the equally nude Chad standing at the end of it. His friend was a big, bulky guy but Chad's insanely ripped muscles made him actually look somehow fat. Chad placed an electrode on the top of Tom's meaty pecs and the other one on the same place on his own protruding chest. He tossed the device to Paul who caught it in his left hand while still holding onto the assistant coach's arm with his right hand. "Switch it on", he barked to the smaller freshman while he kneeled at the end of the bed and placed his paws atop the thick pecs. Paul did as he was told and the device in his hand peeped, displaying "Transfer engaged!". Tom wiggled in the bed but the huge gymnast firm grip on his pecs held him down. He didn't know what was happening. He blinked as he thought what was a spark shot from his chest and disappeared into the electrode on the other huge man's chest. "Fuck yeah", Chad growled as the sparks shot into him and formed a steady flow of energy feeding his already huge muscles. The battered athlete on the bed didn't have enough strength left to resist his theft. He dug his hands firmly into the already softer pecs to increase the flow of power. "You're so full of power!", he moaned in pleasure as the warmth spread through his 248 pound body. Tom didn't capture what was going on. His mind was still trying to comprehend how the huge gymnast had taken him out so quickly. When he finally realized that the other athlete was taking his muscles, he tried fighting back but his defenses were simply too weak. "Please Chad. No", he pleaded in vain. He looked at the guy's face and saw a look of pure hunger in the icy blue eyes. Chad, now growing past the 270 pound mark, enjoyed the intoxicating feeling. He saw the fight in the football player's eyes, the fight to keep his muscles from melting away from his body. He looked at the body in his grasp atop the bed and noticed that the curly hairs were retreating into the ever softening pecs he held tightly. "MORE", he growled and dug his fingers into the pecs. The flow of power doubled temporally and decreased back after a couple of seconds. "FUARK", he roared the moment the increased jolt of power hit his body. A wave of energy surged through his body and every muscle hardened and increased in size. The other guy's in the room stared like moths to a flame to the swelling and widening back of the kneeling gymnast. The assistant coach wasn't even resisting the two freshmen anymore. Tom's body, a bulky 243 pounds just minutes ago, dove below the 200 pound mark as the sparks kept shooting from his chest. He kept fighting against the drain but his resistance was completely overpowered by the growing gymnast. He had an incredible sight on the swelling body in front of him but he didn't feel the slightest awe. All he wanted was get away and save his muscles from being taken. Chad was closing in on the 300 pound barrier, every muscle on his body inflating steadily. Hard, striated mass pushed up the veins against his ever tightening skin. "I'm getting so HUGE", he bellowed as he looked down at his growing pecs. The shelf of meat now protruded several inches from his chest. "Give it ALL", he bellowed in his unstopping lust for size. His fingers now totally overpowered the once might pecs beneath them and dug deeper into them. "YEAH", he groaned as the flow of sparks feeding him increased some more. Tyler felt sorry for his best friend but his gaze was fixed on the growing mounds of meat flowing into each other on the broadening back of the kneeling gymnast. He could also see the hulking man's thick triceps inflating bigger and bigger at the sides of his mighty arms. Further down, the kneeling gymnast meaty ass got meatier and meatier with every passing second. His own dick was fully hard in his pants again. Paul and Keith had released assistant coach Mr. Blake's arms and were also staring in pure awe at the growth of the hulking freshman. Mr. Blake didn't think about running away or rushing in to free his star player. Like the others, he could only stare at the incredible scene. Tom looked past the hulking gymnast at his friend Tyler and assistant coach Mr. Blake. "Help me", he pleaded and closed his eyes as fatigue and exhaustion began spreading through his weakening body. A good minute later he reopened his eyes to implore help again. He blinked in disbelief: the time he had closed his eyes, the gymnast had grown taller and wider and now totally blocked his view from the rest of the room. Chad stared down at the body in his grasp: the once 243 pound star football player now looked like bulky wrestler as his body sank below 180 pounds. The curly hairs that used to cover Tom's meaty pecs had retreated completely in the now flabby chest. Chad threw back his head in ecstasy and let the energy whirl around inside his beastly body. He broke past the 315 pound mark as the energy found its way into this ever growing muscles. Tom realized he wouldn't get any help. He summoned his force to get away from the beastly freshman feeding on his size. He moved his arms up and grabbed the wrists to tear the paws away from his chest. When he placed his hands onto the hot wrists, he noticed he couldn't close his grip around the freshman's thick wrists. He pulled with all his remaining might but it felt like he was trying to rip a tree from the ground with his bare hands. He look back up, past the further protruding rack of pecs to the face of the beastly gymnast. Chad felt the weak tugs on his wrists and slowly turned his head down. He looked down at his paws and saw the frail hands grabbing onto his wrists. A smirk formed on his lips at the sight of the hands that looked comically small compared to his own forearms covered with thick cords of meaty muscle. His gaze travelled along the diminishing torso in his grasp: the bulky star athlete atop the bed now looked like a swimmer as definition and beef kept being sucked from him. Unlike with Tyler earlier, he didn't notice the look of lust in Tom's eyes: the guy was still trying to fight back against the drain. Tom stared back into the icy blue eyes of the now truly huge freshman. He kept pulling at the wrists but the strong forearms didn't budge. His own body now sank under 165 pounds while the gymnast grew past the 330 mark. He knew he was no match for the biggest man he'd ever seen. He felt more fatigue spreading through his weakening body. "Chad", he peeped weakly, "Chad. Let me go… Please. Keep the muscle… but let me… have the muscle… I still have… please". Chad didn't take his eyes from Tom's. He saw the pleading look as the guy in his grasp realized that his resistance was useless. His own body was now more than twice the size of the fallen star athlete. He felt his mighty muscles push against his paper-thin skin as the striated and vein covered mounds amassed more size. His fingers felt the soft mass of the flabby tits beneath them. "More", he rumbled in his deepened bass and dug his fingers hard into the jelly-like pecs, forcing more sparks from the flattening chest into his own hulking pecs. Tom took in the craving for size in the icy blue eyes staring down on him. He knew nothing would the beastly freshman from taking anything he wanted. He could feel the wrists in his grasp thickening further as the corded muscles etching along the beefy forearms kept swelling. He looked down on his own body and was confronted with the new reality: he was now 90 pounds lighter than minutes earlier and the layer of fat that gave him his bulky appearance now made him look more like a fatso. Tyler couldn't see his best friend anymore as the ever widening back of the kneeling gymnast hid the captain of the football team from his sight. His cock was leaking precum in his briefs at the sight of the majestic back he was facing. His left hand reached down his pants and stroked his 3 incher instinctively. A beeping sound made Paul look down at the device in his hand. "Subject reaching natural limits", he read from the screen. He stepped up to the kneeling gymnast. "Hm, Chad", he said nervously as he stood next to the massive freshman, "You're maxing out." Chad heard the remark but only noted the remaining mass in the diminished athlete on the bed. "MORE", he rumbled and concentrated on draining every ounce of muscle into his body. Tom's exhausted resistance crumbled under the increased theft and the last muscles in his body rushed into his chest, converged into pure energy and blasted through the electrode. "FUARK", Chad roared as the flow of energy tripled in size and struck him like lightning. He felt and heard his skin stretch as his mighty muscles ballooned bigger with more mass all at once. "Overload", the device in Paul's hand displayed and it exploded. The excess power circling around the electrode on Chad's chest shot into the device. "Ughn", Paul groaned as the energy shot in to his body. His shirt ripped under the sudden growth of his body. He stumbled backward by the impact. Everyone in the room went silent as Chad stood up and rose to his full height. His insanely broad back was covered with meaty mounds of muscle that fought for room, his beefy ass looked like someone had shoved two volleyballs underneath his skin, his titanic triceps formed massive horseshoes of hard muscle at the back of his lengthy arms. They all inhaled deeply as the colossal freshman turned around to face them. "Fuck ya guys are small", Chad laughed out as he stared down. His deep bass rumbled like thunder through the room, a mighty sound fitted for a 7'2, 368 pound muscle god. Every muscle on Chad's body jutted out from his frame, round and full. His incredible wide shoulders, that gave him an intimidating v-taper, were capped with delts the size of small pumpkins: every head of the striated muscles was clearly visible against his skin; his monstrous pecs were the size of half watermelons, jutting out nearly a foot from his chest, the hard mounds of striated beef defied the pull of gravity and obscured the top of his abs, his nipples pointed down to the floor; his majestic stomach were a landscape of deep grooves separating eight cobblestone-sized abs that rippled on the rhythm of the beastly man's breathing; his astonishing arms hung meaty hams at his sides, the long, rounded, hard yet fully relaxed biceps were crisscrossed with a web of veins and seemed ready to exploded through the paper-thin skin; his tree-sized quads formed two strong pillars of massive muscle, every head of the quadriceps clearly defined; his calves jutted out like beefy diamonds at the back of his legs; between the thick quads a long, meaty snake dangled atop a pairs of egg-sized balls. Atop the beastly body, supported by mounding, beefy traps Chad's face had followed his body's transformation: his rounded, boyish looks had been replaced by a strong, square jaw line covered with a coarse five o clock beard. The air around the beastly freshman seemed to ripple as masculinity oozed from him. "FUARK YEAH!", Chad boomed as he raised his arms into a double bicep pose. His biceps exploded upward and outward, hardening into pineapple-sized orbs of hard beef covered in veins. His skin stretched as the arms reached their new, 31 inch size. The others in the room creamed their pants at the display of pure muscular perfection. "You grew too", Chad said as he lowered his arms and looked down on Paul. He swiftly ripped away the remnants of the guy's destroyed shirt, then proceeded with is pants and boxers. "Nice, man" he said as he took in the new size of the 6'2, 205 pound freshman. Paul shivered. Despite being the second most muscular man in the room, he looked like a twig standing next to beastly muscle god. He instinctively kneeled in front of the man and took his plump cock in to his mouth. "We're gonna have an awesome year", Chad growled as he grabbed the back of the guy's head and let him suck his cock.
  5. Back to the first part of this chapter.... "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match Finally, another chapter.....a group of the boys are heading off for muscle worship in LA! Part 1. Sorry it has taken me so long to continue. ENJOY! Comments welcome... Updated Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in priapic size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable need to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his growing need to receive both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match Casey and Abdul shook hands and almost immediately crashed into each other like sumo wrestlers. Moving with confident skill, Abdul wrapped his arms around Casey’s chest and slid them up underneath his armpits. He gained leverage, letting out a massive grunt as he heaved the big muscleboy up off his feet. Casey moaned as Abdul slammed him down to the mat. “Awesome,” breathed Lang. “That was fast,” said Waring. “He’s not done yet,” said Alvarez. The men leaned in to watch closer. The wrestlers’ gigantic muscles rippled with pumping, vascular power on the mat. Casey managed to break free for a second, but found himself in Abdul’s guard. Abdul was already going for a triangle choke. Casey was slippery enough to wiggle free for a moment, but Abdul climbed onto his back and sunk in a chokehold, rocking Casey backwards as he tried to shove his hands underneath his rippling forearm. It was no use. Superior experience took the moment from Casey. Abdul reached behind him and grabbed Casey’s asscheeks. “Let’s keep it clean, keep it clean,” said Moster, circling. “Think you’re tough, punk?” Abdul snarled into Casey’s ear. “I know I am,” said Casey. He struggled to wriggle himself free. Sweat began to pour down his body, further drenching the mat. Abdul stretched him out as the other guys watched. They slid in the growing pool of oil and sweat. As he dug his hands in, he caught Casey’s posers with his heel. Casey could feel them sliding down his quads the harder he squeezed. The elastic band stretched until is slipped under the pouch. For a flash, Casey felt humiliated and helpless, almost half naked and groaning as Abdul dominated him. Then he retaliated. Snapping one hand onto Abdul’s pecs, he managed to push him back and deliver a powerful backhand blow across Abdul’s face. Abdul’s face whipped to one side. “Fuck Turkish rules. Keep the posers on,” Casey snarled. Moster said nothing. Mouths dropped open. Abdul released the posers, smiled back, as Casey pulled them back into place. Casey looked back at him, and Abdul smiled - and returned a powerful backhand blow of his own across Casey’s face. Casey’s head whipped to the right. He looked back slowly and nodded. “We’re even.” Welts began to appear on the faces of both men. All of sudden, Abdul shot out, gutwrenching Casey’s face into his lap. “No. Now we’re even.” He tried to shoot a takedown, but Casey suddenly sprawled flat, flipped him, and got a tight front headlock on Abdul. He went down on one knee and flipped him over with a fireman’s carry. Before Abdul knew what hit him, he was on his back. Casey felt his arm between his legs as he attempted a cradle. He was close to scoring. Abdul, his face now puffing up, struggled in the sweaty pool of muscle. Casey locked up his hands and rocked him back. The tide of battle changed. Somehow Abdul got to his feet, grabbing hold of Casey’s hips and now shooting for a second takedown, bending over him now and reaching down his broad back. Casey, surprised, tried to sprawl but Abdul guided his hands up again toward the straps of his posers and made him almost sit on his hands. Casey tried to bridge, but Abdul clamped onto him. Saliva sprayed from his mouth and onto the back of Casey’s neck. Abdul flipped him, crashed onto him with his full body weight. It was no use. Casey gave up and collapsed. Sweat poured off Abdul’s face right into Casey’s eyes. Casey slapped the mat to make it stop and Abdul let him go. Body odor wafted from sweaty armpits as the men applauded Abdul’s round one victory over Casey. “Want to go again?” Abdul asked. He was breathing hard. In spite of his win, the kid had been a lot tougher than he anticipated. His eye was swelling shut and his mouth was bleeding a little. “I can take it,” said Casey. His thin skin was red with mat burns, head was throbbing. Was this really him? It was as if he couldn’t control the truth coming out of his mouth. It all felt right. He could take it. He loved the pain, in fact. Loved it. But didn't really want to think about it for the moment. Abdul nodded, stepped back, retired to the corner of the ring. Pedro was there, pouring more oil. “Don’t need that. Massage my shoulders.” Pedro looked at him a little helplessly, his light kitchen fingers not nearly meaty enough to knead the dense muscle mass that was Abdul’s traps, but he tried. After a few seconds, Abdul brushed him away, irritated. “Never mind,” he barked. Pedro’s eyes flashed hurt, and Abdul brought himself up to smile at him slightly. “You tried.” He patted the handsome boy’s face heavily with thick oily fingers, leaving a gleaming handprint on Pedro’s cheek. Pedro beamed ecstatically. He so hoped he could suck his god’s cock later, but didn’t dare to ask. Abdul turned back into the ring. He called to Schumacher. "Get your ass over here and massage my shoulders," Schumacher grunted and went to work on him, kneading the bunched masses with his thick, powerful fingers. Casey was still center, dancing from foot to foot, not caring that his massive tool was bobbing out of his posers. “Lookin’ good, Case,” yelled Obatu from the sidelines. He turned to Washington, sitting next to him. “Know him from Raw Weight.” “Yeah, Miles’ place. Gotta get there again soon.” “Good workouts.” He winked. “A little cash to be made, too.” “Yeah? Doin’ what?” “You know. Trainin’. Getting’ big. Growing. Flexing. Getting your dick sucked. You know.” “Oh, yeah.” Casey didn't know. But he forgot about it in a moment. The whistle blew. “Round two!” announced Moster. Casey and Abdul stepped towards each other, circled, each more wary. On the sidelines, Alvarez glanced over at Lang. Lang’s pants were open, his zipper down, his cock tumbling out of his khakis. He happily worked his long, extra-thick shaft. He glanced up at Alvarez and shrugged. “It’s hot,” he said. Alvarez had to acknowledge it was. “So why not?” Alvarez nodded agreement, opened his fly, with some difficulty pulled out his own already-stiff, mammoth member, and began to chug up and down the shaft with practiced, heavily calloused fingers. Lang looked down, grinned, licked his lips, winked at Alvarez. “Pose and approve later?” “We’ll see.” Lang knew there would be. This was too hot not to follow up with a long pose and approve session and some good butt fucking. But for now, both musclemen turned back to the match and standing side by side, together worked their cocks in silent unison. Their fists plunging up and down. A moment later, Waring, Duncan, and McIntyre had joined them. “Oh, yeah,” said McIntyre. squish squish squish squish squish squish squish squish And a moment after that, Hension, Chad, Meyer and Gunst had pulled their heavy cocks from their khakis and were applying basic spank the monkey techniques. squish squish squish squish squish squish squish squish Moster heard the squishing sounds of numerous big cocks being worked by powerful, pumping fists, looked up, glancing askance at the group. “Begging your pardon sir!” yelled out Hension. “We’re masturbating, sir!” “And why not?” said Moster, but he kept his cock in his pants. Still, out it poled. “Bring it, bitch!” yelled Casey as the two faced off in the center of the mat. “C’mon dude, we wrestlin’ or dancin’? Take a shot!” Abdul taunted. Both men seemed either oblivious to or uninterested in the fact that all around them, every man on the muscle squad was now actively jerking off. Casey shot out a lightning fast single leg. Abdul hopped over it and tried to pivot as Casey dove in, wrapped meaty arms around Abdul’s waist, and brought him violently down to the mat. Somehow Abdul flipped to his belly and Casey applied a painful hammerlock with one hand as he grabbed the back of his head with the other and rubbed his face in the mat. “How’s that mat taste?” Casey asked as Abdul grunted, struggling to turn his head to the side. On the sidelines, Pedro was frantic, seeing his big man suddenly so disgraced, however momentarily. Abdul tried to get off his stomach, but Casey slid his bulging quads down inside Abdul’s and drove his arm underneath his chin. Casey rolled onto his side and poured on the pressure. “Arrgghhhh!” Abdul groaned as Casey stretched him out. Pedro looked on, helpless with worry. “Ya like that, tough guy? Want some more?” Casey murmured between clenched teeth said as he pulled up harder on his chin, Casey totally wrapped around him. Abdul was completely immobilized. He groaned. “C’mon Abdul, you can take this!” Schumacher yelled. He too was now playing with himself freely. Lang, firing away on his stiff-as-iron cock, was laughing. “Put him on his back, Case! Finish him off.” Casey’s posers crept deep into his ass crack as he locked his legs around Abdul’s left leg. His rock hard glutes squeezed together as he wore the huge Turk down. Abdul tried to get free of Casey’s chin lock, but it was no use. He panted and groaned as Casey pulled his head down. “Got some lube?” asked Chad from the second row. The source was surprising. “Here,” said Schumacher, passing around tubes of the prime VALHALLA LABS signature cock-pumping oil. “Gift from the house.” “When did we start making this stuff?” asked Hension, looking down at the tube as he squeezed the warm lubricant onto his thick cockshaft. “Shut the fuck up,” said Lefevre, but he grinned good-naturedly, clapping Hension lightly on the back of the head. On the mat, Abdul suddenly switched it all out. He pried Casey’s hands from the chin lock and sank his arm around Casey’s neck, pulling him down to the mat and now choking him out. His drove his ankles down deep into Casey’s quads and he began to constrict his hold around his neck. Sweat poured off both men. The strong smells of perspiration, olive oil and butt wafted up into the overhead lights. It was now Casey’s turn again to groan in pain. Abdul’s powerful forearm was wrapped around his thick neck. Moster jumped into the ring, sticking his head into his face and asked Casey if he was ready to give up. Casey was grunting and struggling to breathe. Casey was unable to say the words I give. “Too soon,” he breathed out from under Abdul’s body mass. “Loosen up, man,” Moster said to Abdul, who nodded. Abdul loosened the hold so Casey could breathe, but he wasn’t done. Casey tried to get up, but Abdul still was controlling him. Then Abdul reached down and once again slid his hand down into Casey’s now-ripped posers. Casey looked angered as Abdul grabbed onto his thick cock. He handed off the poser to his foot, and peeled Casey’s poser down revealing the muscleboy’s huge penis. “In Turkish oil wrestling rules, the match is now over,” muttered Gunst from the sidelines, watching the mass of slippery muscle tumble on the mats. He rubbed the bulge in his pants, and glanced down. Straight up and out, past the belt line, up into his t-shirt, poling up above his belly. He unzipped and released his mass. “We done?” breathed Abdul. “No!” yelled Casey, now naked. “Naw, it’s way better than Turkish wrestling,” whispered Blankenship, now fondling his own stiff penis, still sheathed in khaki. Gunst looked him quizzically. “I like how it feels in my pants.” “Oh. Oh, yeah. Me too. Sometimes.” Gunst began pumping. “But not now.” Around the ring, all cocks were pumped a little more fiercely as the match intensified. “Okay then. We go for a pin.” Abdul moved his hand up to Casey’s head, rubbing it in his hair to get some sweat for lubricant. Then he came back rubbing Casey’s cock until it was rock solid. Out it poled, 12 inches and more. “Whatcha gonna do about it this time?” he sneered. The 17 bodybuilders were now all leaning in and pumping hard cocks, watching the sweaty jumble of muscle on the mat. Even Schumacher was now pumping furiously. As was Tiffany. For once the self-possessed little muscleboy let his guard down. He worked his cock ferociously, watching the dark match. “They’re pretty even,” said Warning. “Yeah,” said Chad. Next to him on the left, Obatu and Washington looked as if they were about to get up. A light flickered in Lang’s eye. Hension looked wildly around him. He was going to cum soon. Moster directed them all warningly, knowing where they were likely to go next. “Stay where you are, gents. No cumming. Men can hold it.” General moans. The men did as they were told. The wrestling room was silent except for the grunts of Casey and Abdul, the near-silent whirring of Dr. Irving’s video cam, the blue-balled moans and groans of the fleet of masturbating muscle giants, with the squeaky wet regular tattoo of lubricated palms working big cocks. Squish squish squish GRUNT GROANNNN squish squish squish squish squish squish “I SAID, DO NOT CUM!” Moster shouted suddenly. All jumped in their seats. “A man can withstand it!” All sat. 17 monster muscle cocks with nowhere to go but into calloused palms. For now. Up and down. Up and down. “Hey, Chad!” whispered Bogarde loudly. “Squeeze my nips!” Chad reached over to his right with his free hand (the other feverishly pumping his cock) and began violently tweaking Bogarde’s huge, downward-pointing think nipples. “Yeah, make me hurt, man!” Bogarde pleaded, working his cock. “You got it, man.” Squish squish squish UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. squish squish squish squish squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. Suddenly Abdul flipped, keeping his hold on Casey, who squirmed below. Casey was on his back now with Abdul on top, now in the north-south position. All Casey could see was Abdul’s bulging balls and the red singlet outline of his rigid cockshaft. Abdul lowered his balls onto Casey’s face and caught his head in between his legs. But Casey somehow spread his legs and reclamped behind Abdul’s neck. The two muscle monsters squeezed each other tight, rubbing crotches in each other’s face. Casey’s enormous penis brushed Abdul’s scratchy beard. “Ouch!” Casey cried. Finally Abdul broke the hold and swung around to face Casey, getting him in one of his killer headlocks. Once again, Casey was in trouble. But he managed to dig an elbow into Abdul’s groin. Abdul shouted and Casey pried himself free, stood, and turned. He lunged full weight at Abdul. Abdul was ready for him, grabbing his shoulders and shoving Casey’s face right into his and applying a submission hold. For a moment, they looked into each other’s eyes. Then Abdul drove Casey’s shoulders into the mat. “Ughhhh,” Casey moaned. Abdul had mounted him and was driving his elbow into his head. It was momentary. Casey flopped in his own sweat a moment, and then, with surprising swiftness, changed course, wrapping his hands behind Abdul’s neck and pulling him in toward his chest. He wrapped his legs tight around Abdul’s body and grunted as he started to gain control. Abdul and Casey slid around the mat, slipping out of each other holds as they tried desperately to get a submission out of each other. Suddenly, Casey managed to climb on Abdul’s back and slip his arm under his chin. His stiff cock slapped against his abs. “Shit!” Abdul yelled as Casey secured the choke. Casey squeezed harder. Suddenly Abdul was struggling to breathe. His face was beet red. And suddenly, it was over. Abdul slapped the mat furiously and Casey released his grip. He let out a whoop. He grabbed Abdul by the hair and lifted his head up, using his other arm to flex his biceps. Fast as a flash, Abdul grabbed his hand and twisted his wrist, ensuring Casey’s victory was a brief one – but it was too late. The image had been captured in the men’s brains. “Aweesummmm,” breathed Hension, once again, and to no one in particular. “Wait till I call it!” yelled Moster. “Fuck you,” said Abdul. He hunched back on his knees and locked Casey up in a kneeling position, pressing his slippery forehead into his and looking into his eyes. They panted for breath. Once again, as if alerted by a bugle charge, both suddenly sprang once again into action. Abdul managed to get a headlock on Casey and threw him to the mat. His cock slapped against his leg as Casey tried to turn to avoid getting pinned. Both were so sweaty and slick with the now hot oil that neither could get a good hold. The mat was an ocean of steaming sweat and oil, both men sliding in the mass of liquid. In the circle of chairs around the wrestling ring, the bodybuilders pumped their blood-engorged cocks feverishly. On the mat, Casey freed a hand and ripped Abdul’s singlet wide open. The Turk was enraged. His cock spilled onto the mat. Pedro leaned forward now openly licking his lips. “Please let us cum, sir!” pleaded Hension. “Okay…..guess I’ll play, too,” said Moster, studiedly lazily. He advanced into the center of the ring where the two muscle monsters lay, locked in sinew, sweat, and bronzed oil, their huge cocks flailing openly. “Men, why don’t you join me?” Moster smiled. He only had to ask once. In a heartbeat the 17 bodybuilders bolted from the chairs, clambering over one another and the rings to get to the center of the ring. Still, they waited breathlessly, cocks in hand, no one daring to make a further move. Abdul shot a look of helpless rage up to Moster, but Casey was holding him firm. Neither man could budge. squish squish squish squish GOOSH squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. And Moster unzipped. The largest black cock in the world poured out of his pants, flopping down to his knees. FLOPppp… In a second it was poled high, reaching nipple level. Moster grabbed it with his fist and slid his hands down it just three times. squish squish squish squish GOOSH squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. “I’m ready,” he said quietly. The bodybuilders circled the wrestlers, side by side. Casey stared at the huge, pendulous looming cocks above him, heavy dew drops of precum beginning to drip, oozing into the mass of mat liquid in which the two musclemen lolled in their struggles. It was as if it was the first time he had even noticed what the men were up to. “What are they doing??” he cried out to Moster. “What’s it look like, punk?” growled Abdul in his ear. Moster ignored him. “Pedro,” Moster invited graciously, “why don’t you get over here and join us?” Pedro didn’t have to be asked twice. He scampered gleefully into the circle, a little beautiful brown spot of handsome teenhood amidst a turbulent ocean of masturbating musclemen. He pulled out his own pretty little cock and began to pump fiercely, gleefully, staring hungrily at the huge muscle and looming penises all around him. After only a moment, he couldn’t stand being surrounded by the sea of cock without getting to his knees and starting to suck his way around the circle, feverishly. He started with Gunst, his pretty little mouth enveloping the massive organ. From the sidelines Dr. Irving began to walk rapidly behind the circle of men, panning his cam across the landscape of their solid glutes, huge, hard and round, squeezing and relaxing in tense, pumping cannonballs of butt muscle as they pumped their cocks feverishly. Backs of heads. Batwing lat spreads of knitted boulders of muscle. Delts touching. Hamstrings pounding with thick rivers of veins. Butts pumping. Irving got it all on cam. Someday he knew this video would be worth thousands….hundreds of thousands. He captured it all. From the mat below, Casey gazed up, exhausted and confused, bewildered and amazed at a sea of musclecock held high above him. Abdul merely growled. In a few seconds the waterfalls of cum would begin. He couldn’t admit to himself that he had wanted something like this to happen. “What’re they gonna do?” asked Casey, fearfully, muffled. Hmmmm, thought Moster as he pumped his organ. The white cap is wearing off. Probably from the match. If it was still in him, he’d have no problem. Still, it didn’t stop anything. The bodybuilders were groaning loudly now, pumping and flexing, rocking ball-toe-heel, their magnificently bodies undulating rhythmically. “Let ‘er rip!” Moster, now pumping furiously, looked to Dr. Irving, who had never stopped the video, nor moved. “You getting it all?” “Of course,” said Irving, irritated, shocked, perplexed and baffled as always - but never daring to shut down the cam. He could never understand what all this had to do with science, but never mind. He was well paid. “Muthafucker!” Hension screamed. “You boys about ready to shoot?” Moster asked. “Hang on. They ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” said Abdul. He squeezed Casey’s head as hard as he could. It wasn’t too long before Casey wriggled out of it and was on his hands and knees facing him. He came in at Abdul and tried to push him over onto his back, but the muscle Turk reached behind him and sunk his fingers right into Casey’s exposed anus. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Casey cried as Abdul used his rectum as a handle to flip him over. He slammed on his back on the mat. An ocean spray of sweat and oil sloshed into the air. And around them the squishing sounds of muscle jerking grew more frantic. “Oh, maaaaa—aaaan,” said Hension. “Hold off, men!” shouted Moster. "Santa mierda de Dios,” breathed Pedro, now frantically licking Obatu’s cock up and down its 12-inch length. Obatu’s pumping fist was punching him repeatedly in the nose. He didn’t care. He held the cock between his lips and sucked hard. Precum began to spurt down his throat. Squish squish squish UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. GOOOsh squish squish GOOOsh groannnn Ugh unnnghh squish squish squish squish squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. Casey and Abdul were in a mad final scramble now. Both knew the match was coming to an end. Abdul was enraged he somehow didn’t have the conditioning to go a full hour with Casey; it had only been 12 to 15 minutes in the ring, and no more – and he was wiped out. For his part, Casey was panting deeply and hot as a furnace, pushed to the max. And yet. And yet. Abdul knew Casey could outlast him. Casey, however much he might be forever on the bottom tonight, yet had a couple of hours of strength to go. It was only that he lacked the fighting technique Abdul had hard earned over the years. And this enraged the Turk. Abdul got behind Casey and sunk his arms between his legs, locking onto his other arm and driving his biceps into Casey’s balls. Abdul’s forearm pressed painfully against his thick penis. Casey couldn’t take it. He had to move, giving him enough space to maneuver. Dirty Turkish wrestling. Casey managed to get a “Fuck you”, but he was outclassed, totally helpless and defeated. “I gotta suck cock!” Lang shouted, and dove down in front of Alvarez. In a flash Alvarez’s meat was in his mouth, sluicing juicily down his throat. “Me too,” muttered Hension, who dropped down in front of Gunst. He bobbed and weaved with the mighty strokes Gunst was applying to his huge cock, ducking his head, trying to get his mouth around it. “Shit,” said Gunst. With his right hand he backhandedly smacked Hension’s face hard, grabbed the back of his head, clenched a handful of hair; with his left hand he clutched his cock and rammed it down Hension’s throat. Hension began to violently suck muscle giant’s firehouse cock while working his own and never taking his eyes off the grappling musclemen on the mat. Abdul had Casey’s legs now, lifting him up so Casey was upside down, sliding down Abdul’s back till his head hit the mat and he was facing his ass. His nose went right into Abdul’s exposed ass crack for a minute while the Turk kept tilting his head back to put pressure on Casey’s balls. But Casey rallied. Groaning, straining, working hard, he trapped Abdul’s head in a figure 4, squeezing his face right into his balls as he pinned him. “Yer so eager to see my cock, so get an eyeful of it now,” he hissed. Abdul tried to snarl back, but he could only groan. He was getting tired. And the muscleboy had hours of energy ahead of him. He could feel it. Moster had a hard time seeing if the Turk was pinned or not, the men were so wrapped up in an oily mass of muscled quads, rippling traps, batwing lats, boulder biceps, brick-like abs, pounding glutes, pounding feet, pounding fists, and bulging balls. But it wasn’t looking so good for the Turk. UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. The squad, now in deep sex frenzy, was by now beyond observing the details of combat. Blankenship and Waring had each dropped to their knees, sucking the heavy, veiny cocks of Chad and Washington. Schumacher grabbed Meyer, flipped him around, pulled down his khakis, and plunged his cock mercilessly into his welcoming butthole as the handsome deaf mute played gleefully with his engorged manhood. He began to fuck him with deep and powerful strokes. Meyer smiling ecstatically and waved his mighty butt under the cock blows. He reached back and pried his buttcheeks wide. His asshole was as open as he could get it. He spread his legs. Schumacher’s thick cock was in action, driving, pounding, fucking. Squish squish squish fuckfuckfuck UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. Moster could see where it was headed on the mat. Abdul had taken the first two pins. But Casey was just getting started. He was mad now. The effect of the white caps was weaving in and out, true, and Casey was responding as if he was on mushrooms. But his huge muscles were gleaming with power. Every vein was bursting. Sweat was pouring off both men. And Abdul was breathing hard. But he still had the upper hand. Still, Moster pumped harder. He had to admit: this was pretty hot. Pedro looked at him adoringly, moved to take Moster’s cock in his mouth. Moster pushed him back roughly. “Get away, son,” he barked. Pedro looked frightened and abashed. Moster smiled slightly, an eyebrow arched. “You being a bad boy? Might have to tan your hide later,” he murmured. Pedro looked hopeful but the fear still glistened slightly. He glanced down at Moster’s powerful fist, now stroking his massive meat up and down, up and down. “Your hand could kill my butt!” he squeaked. “Not your butt, little boy. Not yours. Now get out of my way. Go suck Private Duncan’s cock.” Moster tossed a glance at Duncan, who was busily working his dick. Pedro scampered away, ran to Duncan, and knelt before him. “The C.O. says I have to suck your cock,” he cried out, and gathered the mighty pole into his mouth. Duncan was startled. “Okay,” he said. “Don’t mind.” Pedro knelt and went right to work on Duncan’s massive tool. He was particularly excited by the latticework of heavy veins surrounding the muscleman’s member. He began to trace his finger along the thick rivers of vascularity as he sucked. Duncan spread his legs wide. He grabbed Pedro’s black hair in his fist and began to steadily pump his hips into the boy’s face. On the mat, more spent than he wanted to admit, Casey stared up at the circle of musclemen above and around him. Four of the musclemen were sucking musclecock now. The little Mexican teenager was scampering about sucking musclecocks as they were freed up. Schumacher was fucking the cute little muscleguy’s awesome glutes. The other 7 musclemen were straddling the mat edges now, massive quads akimbo, pumping serious cock. And the CO Sergeant Moster had his cock out, too. It was the biggest penis Casey had ever seen in his life. Even bigger than his own. Which was huge. As he stared, he lost focus. And in a flash, Abdul had flipped him again and was straddling his pecs with his own huge body and pressing for an advantage. Casey couldn’t move. The sounds of musclesex filled the wrestling room. On the sidelines, Dr. Irving was capturing it all on video. GOOOsh squish slurp suck suck slurp squish GOOOsh groannnn SUCKSUCK LICK SLURP fuckkkk Casey grunted. A surge of energy hit him. He tried a duck under, but Abdul kept the upper hand. As he went down to his knees on the mat, Casey kept his left arm welded to the Turk’s shoulder, pulling out to his side and anchoring his right hand deep in his anus. “Turkish rules, right?” Casey snarled into Abdul’s ear, beginning to chew on the lobe. He was back in control again. The Turk let out a short gasp as he felt Casey’s index finger work up into his asshole, a big grin on his face. Abdul wanted to smash those perfect teeth in, but he was too busy trying to pry the muscle giant kid’s finger out of his butthole. With a sudden rush of White Cap adrenaline, Casey moved his right arm around Abdul’s waist, mounted him and broke him down so his belly was flat on the mat. He managed a gut wrench and turned him over once, but he was too tough and was able to counter Casey’s leverage with his strength. Moster knew he had to step in. He couldn’t afford to have Abdul so badly defeated. Not yet. Not at the outset of Casey’s career. Sure, Casey Rockland was a muscle outlier. There may never have been a muscleman like him before, and there may not be another again. But it was too soon for the legend to emerge. For the good of the program, Casey had to lose tonight. And it didn’t look as if he was going to. So Moster did the one thing he could do, to save Abdul’s neck. Moster blew the whistle and reached in. He grabbed them both by the scruffs of their necks and powerfully brought them up to their knees. Casey was stunned, dizzy, swirling with confusion and excitement and pain and frenzy all at once. Abdul’s rage was huge but not huge enough to allow his own massive tool to go limp. Both muscle monsters were sporting huge erections. And the men around them were pumping and sucking and fucking furiously. Ugh unnnghh groan moan slurp suck squish squish squish slurp suck suck squish squish squish AH AHH AHHHHHH yeah yeah yeah UNNNGHHHH AAAAHHHHHH!!!! Moster stepped forward, grabbed his mighty cock, knelt down next to the knotted figures of muscle, and began to shoot cum in the Turk’s face. SPURT! BLAST!! AAAHHH YEAH!!! Gallons of gobs of white creamy cum shot maniacally from his deeply creased piss slit. And the biggest cock in the world, on the biggest bodybuilder in the world, began to throb and spurt hot liquid rivers of jism onto the Turk’s face. “FUCKING HELL!” roared Abdul. ‘GODDAMN YOU MOSTER!!!” And the cum spilled, coating his roaring face, filling his mouth and nostrils, dripping down his chin. Moster was aiming it, like a firehose. “On the Turk, men!” he shouted. And with that…all hell let loose.
  6. Thedemon1906

    My gigant roomate pt3

    Marcos had just woke up. He was lying on his bed confused. He felt the heat of the huge body next to his own. This was the first time he woke up and John was still there… sleeping. Slowly he turned his head and faced the back of the giant. His right hand touched the hard wall of muscle that was his back. It was twice as big as his and huge amounts if power surged from it. John's body wasn't covered by any blanket and by any clothes. For Marcos (that after all is a straight man) it was a beautiful sight, a kind of admiration someone has to a well done painting or a gorgeous statue. An aesthetic appreciation, but Marcos was starting to feel something else that he couldn't quite figure out. Marcos took out his hand and continued to look at the giant. His eyes wondered through John's entire body. He already knew his roommate was tall, but seeing himself side by side to the giant it made him feel small. -Are you going to take shower?- Marcos felt the bed bend as John turned around his massive body. When he finished the little guy was facing to monstrous pecs twice as big as his hands. - Yes… why?- His eyes and John's met when he said that. The little guy had forgotten how gorgeous he was. -I have to take a shower too- he said quite demanding -well… but i have to get to school and- John grabbed Marcos’ right hand and his left arm and pinned him down. He put himself on top with only one meter between the two. Marcos was surprised by the move, he now had the giant on top of him, completely dominating him. He could see his gigantic arms tensed keeping his body up but that wasn't the weirdest thing. John moved forward closing the gap between him and his submissive friend. Marcos could feel the one feet cock of the muscle beast pressing his abdomen. ------------------------------------------------------------ Marcos could hear the running shower as he got undressed. His body had changed the last few weeks. He had gotten much leaner maybe with a little bit less muscle. He had an athletic body thought. Perfect cut muscle with thin arms like the ones you see in models. But his bulging physique had disappeared as all of his body hair. All is all, it would seem like he shaved all of it away. Although all of these changes are really noticeable the most prominent feature of his body was now his ass. A perfect bubble butt with round gorgeous cheeks. His pants now stretched obscenely every time he walked and the street. He opened the shower curtain revealing John's body at its peak. Water runned through his huge muscle and 8pack. To his lemon size balls and tree trunk legs. Marcos got in the shower pressing himself to the giant's abdomen. -this thing is getting huge- the rumble of his low voice made everything trembl as his huge manly hands grabbed Marcos’ ass. His hands ,that were as big as the little guy's cheeks, pulled up the small body without effort till the two of them were face to face. - You need to learn to obey- Marcos felt a thick finger enter his ass and he grabbed to John's shoulders for support. - You are my tiny bitch- as Marcos cummed all over his roommate a little smile appeared in John's face.
  7. Home of the Gods Part Eight-Finale by F_R_Eaky Part One: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13486-home-of-the-gods-part-one-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Two: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13487-home-of-the-gods-part-two-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Three: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13490-home-of-the-gods-part-three-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Four: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13502-home-of-the-gods-part-four-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Five: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13527-home-of-the-gods-part-five-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Six: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14012-home-of-the-gods-part-six-by-f_r_eaky/ Part Seven: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14350-home-of-the-gods-part-seven-by-f-r_eaky/ Fabian woke very late in the morning. Hoisting himself off the floor, he stretched and massaged himself as the unheated concrete floor seeped cold into his body and his new larger muscles and bones ached with a larger amount of stiffness. He nearly fell over and down again, attempting to walk forward, but learning he needed to do a side kick kind of step allowing his burgeoning thighs to roll forward and around one another. Not to mention his arms felt so big and heavy and swung too much weight when he tried to compensate on his balance. It also didn't help that his arms almost couldn't swing back and forth due to the size of his lats and broadness and thickness of his pectorals. He decided to walk to the bathroom and shower, curious as he heard it running and he remembered not finishing it before being... .... ... could one call it an attack? Before being attacked the day before by three of Gabriel's friends. After walking a few steps he spun around and looked at the door. He swore to God he heard someone pounding on it furiously as though trying to break in by breaking the door down. He didn't hear or see anything. Turning to walk back to the bathroom he heard the pounding again, stopped turned and looked... ... ... nothing. He turned away again, but thought before he began to walk and then took off for the bathroom, pausing and smiling when he realized the noise was the sound of his twenty-one inch long, thick, muscular meaty feet slapping the floor when he walked. But then he heard an actual bang. It sounded like pounding on the delivery truck door that went down the wall and finally to the people entrance. A couple of extreme pounds later and suddenly there burst through Gabriel, looking extremely pissed and screaming at the top of his lungs. "You somehow manage to make my boys go mental. Screaming about some giant Olympian bodybuilder. That's it. You may be a little taller than me, Reid, but I am gonna take... you.... .... .... down?" Gabriel had taken a goodly number of steps into the warehouse before he noticed the hulking figure that was now Fabian. Standing at what was a few inches below the point of where Fabian's lats began to flare out from his abdomen and obliques, Gabriel took in the view as Ian loomed over him and did a most muscular, flaring out his neck, traps, and shoulders, while ballooning out his chest and upper arms. Gabriel whimpered just a little and then slowly backed away before making a dash for the door and running out of the warehouse. Fabian chuckled to himself. "I didn't even have to say anything. I actually didn't have to say a word." He turned and began to walk back towards the bathroom, feeling his cock inflate longer and heavier as the thought of just posing at Gabriel made him turn and run. By the time he made it to the bathroom doorway, it was fully erect and his head was preceding him into the bathroom by nearly two feet. Suddenly there was a tug and a pull on his massive member and when Fabian finally walked through, he looked down to see Reid smiling, holding his cock, and standing right at the point where his lats flared out from the rest of Fabian's body. "You know...anything that sticks out two feet or more from the vehicle carrying it has to be tagged with a red flag. That's the law." "It's already got quite the red head. Isn't that enough?" "It is for me" said Reid smiling as he continued to pull Fabian into the shower, which he had finished up when he woke up earlier. Reid had some personal fun as he helped lather Fabian up, groping and cupping all of the new mountainous muscle bellies that covered Fabian's body. Truly, if he was normal height, he'd be one of the biggest built bodybuilders ever with enviable genetics everyone hoped and wished for. Reid then went through and traced every crevice, attempted to massage Fabian's muscles, before he finally tried to help massage any stiffness out of Fabian's muscles due to sleeping on the cold concrete floor. Eventually he took in Fabian's cock head as best he could, licking and stroking it until both he and Fabian needed to stay in for another shower to get cleaned up. Afterwards, they finished putting together Fabian's new make-shift bed and lay down upon it, talking. "You had me a bit worried, Fabe. As the changes occurred you kept going on about strength and power. I thought you were going to become an asshat meathead." "I was a bit overpowered and overwhelmed by the sensation. C'mon, Reid, you can't tell me you never felt good about standing head and shoulders over most males, or that your stronger and better built than them. I've seen you slightly show off. You like it when you can use your size to play the hero." "I try not to be arrogant about it though, and you were just in full self-lust and power-worship as your body blew up and grew. And who plays the hero now?", Reid said despondently. "Some protector I'm gonna be. You stand just over three feet taller than me! And I know you love to top. When your cock first grew it was fine. Felt great. But now.... You're so big and big and BIG! If we're gonna make out... .... I think I'd have to fuck your cock." "Hey....hey..." said Fabian softly. "We'll figure out some way to make it work out. And just because I'm bigger..." "So much bigger..." "That doesn't mean you still can't stand up for me. And out of all the pricks that are Gabriel's friends, only one stands taller than you, and he's definitely smaller built than you. You're almost a foot taller than average males and bigger built than most sports stars. Don't think of yourself as week and useless to me. You remember the first time you actually hefted a really good decent amount of weight?" "Yeah..." "And the pump it gave the body part you were working out?" "Yeah..." "Or how your clothes felt so much tighter, or better yet the time you first ripped out of shirt by accident?" "Yeah..." said Reid now laughing lightly. "Or the time you finally realized you stood taller than your old man, or most of your school mates?" "Yeah...." "Then think of it from my point of view. I was a very scrawny, 5' 2" tall man. Even average guys towered over me. Suddenly I'm growing up and up and up, my muscles are filling out and out and out. I see average men getting smaller, tall men becoming average - child size, and I can feel a power in my body that's growing more and more the bigger I get. It's just like those feelings you experienced, but they were happening all at once and kept going and growing for like so much... ... ... It was just.... such a huge rush. Such a glorious feeling filling me up." "I can tell." said Reid smirking and reached up and gave Fabian's once again erect cock a pull down to the bed top and then allowed it to spring up and smack Fabian in his abs all the way to just below his chest. Both the men chuckled and then with a gleam in his eye, Fabian grabbed Reid and pulling him, Reid's back to his chest and abs, finally rolled over on his side to lay down with Reid engulfed by his body. Reid lay there feeling the heat pulse through Fabian's cock on his back. "C'mon, love. You gotta let me go." "Spoon." "You're going to make me late for work." "SPOON!" "Really, Fabe, someone has to pay for this warehouse." Fabian lowered his voice as deep as it could go and then softly growled in Reid's ear, "spooooooooooooooooooon." The pair lay there until there was just enough time for Reid to get dressed and get to work on time, but they both wished the moment could last forever. **************************************************************************** That night, started one of the worst times in Fabian's life. It was going on 9 p.m. and Reid was at least three hours late getting home from work. At ten after nine there was a loud thump against the regular door, followed by the sound of several people banging on the truck delivery door. This was followed by the sound of many running footsteps and tire squeals. Fabian cautiously went to the regular entrance door and saw the bottom of it had a large dent inwards. Opening the door, he saw the reason, a large cinder block with a note that read: "You're a giant strongman. That doesn't mean you don't have a weakness. You may not venture out because of your size, but your lover does." At twenty after nine, Reid stumbled through the door, low moaning Fabian's name. There was a gash on his brow in between his eyebrows, both eyes were black, his lips were swollen and if he did move them, blood was coming out of his mouth and hiding his teeth. One hand was black and blue and it seemed attached oddly about halfway up the arm. He had trouble breathing, his work uniform was torn, one shoe was missing, once there he couldn't walk, and his delivery van that he drove home in was nowhere in sight. Immediately Fabian went to dial the emergency number, cursing his new size as his much larger digits constantly pressed more than one number every time he attempted to dial on the much smaller cell phone. Finally he grabbed a pencil and began to use that and called an ambulance. The EMT's arrived to discover Reid just lying inside the warehouse. Fabian knew how the scene would look if he had stayed there. Giant bodybuilder - man beaten to a pulp. He would be blamed and arrested. He left running down into a nearby aqua duct and hiding under the bridge where a road passed over it. Reid wound up in the hospital for two weeks. Punctured lung, three broken ribs, concussion, broken ocular bone, one tooth removed, broken arm, sprained ankle. He was released but still laid up for another three months or so while waiting for bones to heal. Fabian had to take care of things for him on his own. He checked his personal account and then had to make friend with a local whom he not only felt he could trust, but, of course showed what man his size could do if the guy just took off with the card and spent his money. They guy helped move in a restaurant sized refrigerator and enough groceries to store in it. Later Fabian used it to buy some building supplies, only he wasn't going to build onto the warehouse structure. Cinder blocks, mortar, I-beams Fabian used to first make a "bench" that could support him, his weight, and any weight he worked out with. Then he began to build walls onto the ends of the I-beams, small ones at first, then medium, and finally some larger ones. Fabian was seeing red. They had beaten up Reid and he couldn't do anything about it. Well, he soon would. Fabian used the wall and beam segments he bought to make something akin to a set of weights and he began to work out... and work out... and work out. He kept his muscles engorged with blood as much as he could, allowing only for proper rest to ensure growth. He ate until he thought his stomach would burst, and hoped he could transfer all of it to his already enormous muscles.... and he did. Fabian watched on the scale as his weight went up and up....ten pounds....twenty pounds..... forty pounds.....eighty pounds.... one-hundred pounds. He had trouble walking before, now he really swayed side to side as he kicked his legs around one another. Just ten pounds over the seventeen hundred pound mark. One-thousand, seven-hundred, ten pounds of pure muscle. But that wasn't all that Fabian did. Shortly after starting his workouts, Fabian began to noticed odd things. The basket he had been presented with on his induction to the tribe had increased in size and now housed his newly sized cock and balls regardless of whether flaccid or erect. He began to wear it most of the time to keep his cock out of his way when lifting. Some of the cinder blocks had been used to make another shallow pool in the bathroom and a very large natural stone had been placed in the back part of said pool. Wild, tropical flowers had begun sprouting and growing in parts of the bathroom, so Fabian knew he had begun chanting again. Mid-spring is when Reid was finally able to come back to the warehouse, still looking a little tired and drained of color. He opened the door and walked in, staring at the odd sculptures that Fabian had made out of the cinder blocks and I-beams not knowing they were new weights for a giant man, and then out of the corner of his eye saw the massive, Titan like frame of Fabian as he stood up from his make shift bed. Reid wasn't sure what to say or to ask. He was stunned by how much larger, beefier Fabian looked. How much heavier he sounded when he walked. But it was the odd look in Fabian's eye that left Reid speechless and motionless. It was a mixture of a blank stare and determination. Fabian reached out and grabbed Reid like he was a child, carried him into the bathroom and then placed Reid in the small pool like area next to the actual shower. He placed Reid with his back against an very tall, thick, stone, the top of which poked up and out of the floor, a smooth round boulder with a crack in the top. Torches were lit everywhere within the bathroom, followed by bundles of incense of some kind, with a very heady and very musky in aroma. Invisible drums began to be beaten and Fabian began to sing chants louder and louder. He made sweeping motions with his feet upon the ground and urged Reid to do the same. Reid began to mimic the movement out of fear of a what behemoth sized, tranced Fabian might do to him if he did. Soon, Reid's legs were as though they were made out of rubber, stretching out instead of being moved in a sweeping motion. His vision began to blur and his head swooned as the bathroom seemed to heave and undulate, warping, skewing in shape and form. Suddenly the floor beneath him began to feel warm, very warm. Warm enough he began to hop dance instead of making the sweeping motion he had been instructed to perform. At this Fabian began to scream, but not in terror, more in ecstasy, as though moaning in orgasm, and in an orgasm so great he might just expel their own soul when cumming. Fabian had been wearing his basket to hold his genitalia and took it off. Reid knew Fabian had become endowed after his last battle with Gabriel's friends, but he still marveled now at the ginormous 16.25 inch, flaccid hung member of Fabian and at how much longer and thicker it became after growing to a 2 foot long erection. Reid knew that Fabian must be spending most of his time walking around nude or in a pair of pants sporting the most obscene bulge ever seen on a man. Erect Fabian's penis didn't stick up like many men's erect penis do, but instead stuck straight out and bobbed as if it was a divining rod made for dowsing. Still hop dancing, his back and arms against the tall rock formation behind him, to help support him in his dance as his head began to swoon more and more, his eyes becoming heavy and tired, Reid began to feel hot and extremely bothered. For some reason he was being turned on. Fabian came forward and removed his shirt, pants, and underwear, and Fabian had already removed his shoes before entering the bathroom. With his small, flaccid cock now flopping around free it began to grow and lengthen to its mighty and full erect status of 7 inches. The heat was growing in him. He felt the heat rising up his body, and felt the heat rising up the stone as well. He thought he felt the air caressing his balls and tugging at his cock. Warmer and warmer he and the rock became, and the hotter they got, the hornier Reid grew. The feeling became so powerful Reid was convulsing more than he was dancing or stomping, the shock waves of pleasure riding over him. Suddenly Fabian let out groans and gasps of ecstasy, his mighty cock having grown even more incredibly long and thick, now spewing forth ribbons and ribbons of cum into the small, wading pool in which Reid was standing. Fabian fell forward upon his knees, taking his hands and rubbing his seed into the ground, groping and massaging, as though fondling some massive muscle or body. The heat kept building and building, Fabian and Reid were sweating profusely. Reid swore he was getting burned on his feet and back as the temperature began to rise higher and higher in the pool floor and the stone. Eventually the ground rumbled and a great gushing sound could be heard followed by a great torrent of water streaming over and down the great rock behind Reid's back. Fabian rose up and backed away as the water cascaded over Reid, drenching him, coating him, and filling up the small wading pool. Striking the pool, part of the water began to hiss, evaporating into great clouds of steam, upon which Reid's head snapped back, he jerked and convulsed, and felt as though someone, something, reached through his dick, into his balls, and pulled out his cum in great strands that felt large enough to be ropes for a sailing ship. Gasping for air, sinking to his knees, Reid saw Fabian approach. "I am Kali'iti'nui no more. I am now, Tanakamaunga - man mountain. We believe that the gods reside in our penis. Although most men of this tribe are raised since birth, being taught exercises and have weights hung to make their penis grow and grow in order to house more gods. You and I were not raised so, but that does not mean you cannot come to greatness, for look what has happened to me. You who so wished to heed the words of the chief and be my protector as he so ordered of you, shall find a way to do so. For your acts of bravery and loyalty, I have made you one of the tribe, and thus at least one god will come to reside in your cock and grant you happiness and prosperity in some form, or so I hope. I thank you. Be blessed, you who have sought to protect me, physically, mentally.... emotionally. You shall take my old name, Kali'iti'nui, meaning small giant, for among most men you are tall and built in stature, and your courage and heart is as big as the men as large as mountains." With that Fabian washed Reid's genitals and groin area with some of the geyser water that erupted from the stone, and then reaching out his hand, grabbed a newly formed basket made by the wild flowers, vines, and ivy growing all around the bathroom. He then placed the basket upon Reid's genitals and tied it around Reid's waist. Reid smiled somewhat punch-drunk like and attempted to say thank you, but fell unconscious into sleep and some of the best fantasy dreams of him and Fabian he ever had of his life. The next morning Fabian woke up to discover the other side of his bed was empty. He could've sworn he had woke from a trance and helped place Reid into bed with him. Walking to the bathroom, he discovered Reid was sitting cross-legged in the ritual pool. His eyes were slightly rolled back, and eventually Fabian could hear a chant coming across Reid's lips. " Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga..." Fabian knew it was not the name of the God of Gods in the Ulpooin pantheon, but he couldn't tell Reid who it was, and Ke'atuka'ine, God of Gods, wasn't communicating any information to him from his cock. Not too long after, Reid simply woke up, took a shower, kissed Fabian and his abs good-bye and reported for work. Around four in the afternoon, Fabian received a knock and a note taped to the entrance door of the warehouse. It was from Gabriel and told him he and his friends were aware that Reid was back to work and that if Fabian didn't meet them downtown, in the back alley behind Reid's workplace, Reid would receive the pummeling of his life, or more likely his death. Fabian was to surrender himself over to Gabriel and his gang for Gabriel to do as he wished, or Reid was through. Fabian nearly broke the door off exiting the warehouse at four-fifteen. Fabian arrived to the back alley and came upon a scene probably similar to what had happened to Reid four months or so before. Reid, as per usual had worked late, making sure he had delivered all his packages and cleaned out his delivery truck. A car was parked behind the delivery van, meaning Reid couldn't leave to go home, other than by foot. That way wasn't an option as Gabriel and his friends had surrounded his way out and had pulled him into the sort of courtyard area created by the loading docks for the delivery service. He had already received a couple of good blows, and being so soon from his recent recovery, he was already swooning from the attack. It was at that moment that Fabian in a very tight pair of hand-made shorts, stepped out of the actually alleyway and its shadows to confront the men. "Ganging up on folks again. With me joining in, I'm pretty sure Reid and I can take you all down." Gabriel spun around to see Fabian and in a flash had pulled out a gun and pulled the trigger. It was an odd sound and sensation happening. It didn't sound like a gun had been fired, and Fabian didn't feel something pierce his flesh and burn going through. Instead it felt like he received an injection, and the world felt as though it was turning and his vision was blurring. "I knew you wouldn't stand by or come quietly and I don't know how you got to the size you did, but I know we couldn't take you, especially when your smaaaaaaaaall boyfriend, who isn't too small to us, except for DeWayne and possibly Fernando, would attempt to join in and take us down. So.... I got an elephant tranquilizer. Figure that'd at least incapacitate you if not make you sleep for the trip I'm going to take you on. But while you're there kneeling in your stupor, my boys and I are going to make sure Reid learns his lesson by sending him back to the hospital again and then he can watch helpless as we carry you away. We've got a tow truck and everything to help hoist you into a truck. Continue, boys." And with that the friends of Gabriel continued their fist-to-cuffs on the already dazed Reid. Arjun kicking Reid in the balls. Michael smacking Reid against the face or boxing his ears. Fernando punching Reid in the gut, while DeWayne bopped him on the head in between Gan Otkai yanking on Reid's hair. All the while Fazzah screamed at him and joined Gabriel in kicking and hit him any way any where possible. Poor Reid was beaten right back to the same condition that they had left him in earlier in the year, and they laughed as they moved to grab Fabian and take him away. But suddenly there was a burst of steam from underground. It came together and made a wall separating the men from Fabian and their ability to exit. The sound of drums filled the air and a chant began to be heard. " Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga..." Fernando turned around to stare at the collapsed Reid, figuring it was his voice doing the chanting.... He was right. "Ga..ga...Gabriel..." He hoarsely whispered. All the men turned around to see Reid currently kneeling on the ground, his mouth barely moving, but his word's clearly audible, although, none of the men standing knew what it was. " Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga.... Ke'atutel'malsaga..." The men suddenly wished they could back up and out of the area as they began to see and hear Reid's body snapping and coming back into correct position. The cuts on his skin healed up and the bruises went away. Slowly but most definitely surely, Reid began to stand up and did so firmly planting his strong stance. The still connected hose Reid had used to help wash down his van suddenly came to life and stood almost straight out of the nozzle it was connected to. The steam was collecting in the are forming a pool of water beneath Reid. The pounding drum sound became louder and louder filling the air with a rhythmical din. When Reid appeared totally healed, water erupted from the standing hose and fell in a cascade upon Reid's head and washed over his body. "Auugh!" Reid moaned. "Hmmmnff!" Reid blurted again. "Ohhuwah!" And now Reid seemed to be thrusting his hips. Over and over again, Reid thrust his hips and each time the basket of his groin swelled larger and larger and larger. Reid kept moaning and thrusting and his packed kept growing becoming obscenely obvious. His pants grew tighter and tighter in the crotch area. Three mounds were forming, one that looked like an extremely large banana was being carried and underneath were the other two grapefruits. Reid finally let a long low scream out as if he was still growing and couldn't take it, and everyone present watched as Reid's cock tore open the teeth of the zipper on his cargo shorts and then flopped out. And it wasn't just his pecker; his balls helped spread the opening and rip it further apart as they fell and dropped out as well. Reid's cock had grown enormously long and thick and his screams of pain trailed off into a sigh of relief and then a laugh of pleasure. Reid's schlong was growing and getting longer and thicker, and his balls were swelling as well. So heavy...so round.... his prick so long...so thick....so hard.... so veiny. It grew and grew until Reid was just as hung and virile as Fabian ever would be. Reid began to laugh pleasantly at first and then almost a little maniacal, as if some stream of an idea washed over his mind. This was replaced by small gasps and grunts as Reid began to jerk his feet up and down, side to side, stomping and stomping. The seven gentlemen who had just beaten him up stared at his feet to try and see what was happening and then they began to see. The sides of his work boots began to bulge out and curl over the sides of his sole. One large ridge formed in the front of each shoe, soon to become a row of one large and four smaller bulges pushing the front of the shoe over the front of the sole. The heel began to stretch very tightly and Reid's ankles started overfilling the holes that were where the feet entered. In another few moments one could hear and see the straining, exceedingly taut laces snap in surrender, followed by the odd, low, ripping sound of hard leather as Reid's feet out grew his shoes by one, two, four, eight, sixteen, twenty, twenty-four sizes to become thick, meaty, muscular, 21" long man feet. Michael, the man with the giant paws and feet for a man of just 6' 2" or so tall, noticing what might be happening, broke his hypnotized stance of awe and ran to take Reid down. He might of succeeded, but Reid's hands had grown equally as much as his feet had and he swung his arm to deliver his own smack down. Michael was knocked senseless and about half way across the square loading area. Reid's balls had been throbbing, increasing in size and then shrinking, pulling up. Every time they had done so is when Reid's hands and feet got bigger. They started doing so again and as Reid moaned and groaned in greater pain while grabbing a hold of his legs and arms, a small cracking and breaking sound was heard and Reid stood taller....and Taller....and TALLER....and TAAAAAAALLER! His socks which had shrunk from just under his calves with the growth of his feet to just above his ankles shrunk down further to just under his ankles. His shorts moved from his knees to one fourth the way up his thigh, half-way up the thigh, too looking like 1970's sports, short shorts to almost like brief underwear, except despite his trim build his waist snapped the button and now his fly was pulled excessively wide apart. His shirt hem rose and rose above his waist, above his abs, beyond where his lats come in and stopped just under his chest. Not that you could see that because having already been fairly muscular and now three feet taller, every button had been popped off the shirt as his chest stretched the shirt open. The sleeves rode up and up over his mighty upper arms, over his delts, and if the front of the shirt was complete it would've gone from a short sleeve shirt to sleeveless muscle shirt. Swaying a bit as the pain settled from his massive growth spurt, Reid bent forward causing his back to rip the shirt down the back and thus only hang on him via his shoulders. His neck had snapped the collar as well. Shucking the shirt off of his body, he smiled as he noticed that his bending forward had caused his bubble butt to blow out the back of his cargo shorts. He then reached and yanked what was left of his shorts and underwear off of his body as well as using his long toes to pull the now tiny socks off of his feet. He closed his eyes and breathed in a few deep breaths, feeling the cool spring breeze caressing his body. Before any of the now six men could move, Reid began to do small shouts, like power lifters and bodybuilders make before they hoist a weight up. "Uhp..." And Reid suddenly did a side triceps pose. "Ommmph" And into a side chest. "hoop!" Lat spread. "hnngh!" Most muscular, crab shot. "Hup!" Abdominal crunch and front thigh extension. "Hep!" Front double biceps pose. "Hooch!" Back double biceps pose. "HRRRR!" Back, Thigh Bicep, and Calve pose. Over and over and over again Reid kept cycling through the poses and each time he did so, his muscles swelled bigger....larger....thicker....harder....fuller....denser....broader....veinier.... His calves inflated into giant pulsing hearts and finally a throbbing diamond shape. The thighs ballooned and grew into a collection of swollen tear drop shapes like a bunch of water balloons. His abs formed bricks fit for the Great Wall of China, while his obliques bunched and formed such as to look like a great lattice work was plastered on Reid's sides. His lats grew out so wide and thick it looked like he could jump from a plane and join para-gliders without the need for the special winged suits. His arms flared out more and more at greater angles from his body as his upper arms inflated and grew until one swore he had a football stuffed in where his biceps should be. A pair of thick muscular shapes looking like Clydesdale sized horseshoes hanging off the back of the arms. Forearms so thick and powerful they matched the size of Reid's calves. Shoulders that were so full and round and with such density, surely they were world globes stolen off of statues of Atlas holding up the world. His chest barreled so thick and round, so wide and full, he could see nothing standing directly in front of him. Even his erect cock had a hard time sticking out beyond it to be seen. His traps rose and rose like some great range of mountains and his neck swole as thick and round as segments from the Giant's Causway. Reid now strode over to the side of the building, kicking his legs out to the sides in order to move forward. Grabbing a hold of a large iron bar embedded into the brick building, he ripped it free from the mortar and then proceeded to bend it into an arch. He growled as he did so, his voice lowering and lowering in extreme bass tones, while with each degree the bar bent, the hair on Reid grew out and out, thicker, fuller, feathery, until his red hair hung halfway down his back and his hair glistened like glitter all over his body. Throwing the bar in front of Gabriel and his friends, Reid raised his hands above his head and struck a victory pose. At the same time several glowing balls of light came down and anyone watching swore they entered Reid's cock through is piss slit. Once that was done Reid turned and glared with a smirk while bellowing out a name. "GA-BRI-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL!" It echoed throughout the little loading square, and as Gabriel realized he was looking up to Reid as much as he did to Fabian, he actually pissed his pants. "I am not Reid.... I am NOT Kali'iti'nui..... I AM MALSAGAMAUNGA - MEANING TWIN MOUNTAIN!" The god that had inhabited Reid at his initiation by Fabian was Ke'atutel'malsaga, the god of twins and he had chosen to make Reid Fabian's fraternal twin, so to speak, in order for him to be able to protect Fabian, for it takes someone of equal size and strength to protect another man so large. Another spray of water streamed out of the hose, splattering all over Fabian, and the heavy drowsiness he felt began to leave him. His vision cleared, his heavy body, although still feeling heavy, was light enough for him to manage it again. Standing up behind the six men, Michael only just now coming to from Reid's smack down, Fabian growled and struck a most muscular that cause the men to scream and wish for a way out. The drums that had quieted down quite a bit began to pick up their rhythm and loudness. Gabriel's posse began to hold their hands over their ears and look around in bewilderment. Fabian and Reid oohed and moaned in both pleasure and pain as their cocks throbbed so hard, they stuck straight out of their bodies without any bobbing whatsoever. "Friends of Gabriel," Spoke Fabian, "Leave and leave now. Correct your ways or know that we will be here to take care of you. Go.... .... .... NOW!" Fabian's words echoed so loudly it took a good five minutes and several blocks of reverb before the echo faded away. The pair was pretty sure that all six men pissed their pants as they quickly ran away leaving Gabriel all alone. As the drums thundered away, Fabian and Reid began approaching Gabriel, stroking their pricks. Gabriel turned and turned, basically spinning round and round, beginning to whimper and cry. "Two great acts...." "...have been done..." "...in order to...." "...bring us into...." "...the fold...." "....Great acts...." "....do not come...." "....without a cost...." "....some kind of...." "....sacrifice must be made...." "...We will gladly...." "...take a soul....." "...who cannot...." "....be redeemed...." And at that moment, Fabian and Reid stood their ground and suddenly bellowed in ecstasy, and released a load of great, long, strands of cum that spewed in great loops around Gabriel and once coated, as Fabian and Reid moaned and shot off more of their load, Gabriel shrank....as the pair grew....as Gabriel shrank....and the men Grew....and Gabriel became smaller.... and they giants got ever bigger...... For each inch the gods took from Gabriel, they seemed to give two, four, or six inches to Fabian and Reid. By the time all was said and done the hulking forms of Fabian and Reid stood twelve feet six inches tall, twenty seven inch long size US Mens 59 shoe feet, and weighing three-thousand, three-hundred, ninety-three pounds, with cocks that had grown to three feet long. The once decently sized and bullying Gabriel was now only 5' tall, exceptionally thin and week, and just barely stood mid-thigh to Fabian and Reid. The giant pair of men bent at their waist so they could see Gabriel and whispered in growling tones, "You can go now." Gabriel did not have to be told twice. He gathered up his now ill, extremely loose fitting clothing and ran as best as he could back to his apartment where it is said he wept and wept and made a decision never to leave, and especially not to do missionary work. Meanwhile back at the square Reid approached Fabian and the two muscle giants began to grapple and wrestle one another. Eventually the two pulled one another into the other and began to kiss deeply, passionately, frantically. The mammoth manhoods began to rise and become engorged with blood, and they backed off a bit to hoist them up, cock heads between their pecs, and then move back together, holding one another and grinding their hips so their erect phallics began to rub each other up and down. After several minutes of frotting, Fabian picked up Reid by Reid's ass, flinging and wrapping the massively mounding legs and meaty feet of Reid around his waist. In this position he pushed Reid towards Reid's truck, causing the back doors and much of the roof to cave in, followed by the tires blowing out, once almost 7,000 pounds or three and half tons of male muscle collapsed upon the delivery van floor. With the small amount of height difference, Fabian took advantage and plunged his prestigious pecker into Reid's cavernous hole. Reid's neck arched as his head tilted back. He reach up to grab around the driver's seat for support and wound up pulling it, breaking it free from it's stationary position in the van. The two thrust and rocked, twisted and pounded. Whatever part of van's shelving that didn't collapse when the two fell into the van, their motion now knocked, dinged, and bent, deforming the pieces from ever being usable again. Reid pushed on the walls while grunting and moaning in pleasure and pain. And behold, the van's wall's did bulge out in massive mounding bulges with gigantic hand prints in the center. The front of the van was taking a beating as well, for with each thrust Fabian was giving, he pushed the van into the loading bay wall. Headlights, grill work, bumpers, were no more. In what seemed like hours to them, Fabian finally started herky-jerking out of control. The spasm of sexual bliss was washing over him and with one last thrust he shot a load so powerful, so large, that Reid swore it came up into his mouth a bit all the way from his ass. The very thought of which had him spewing over his head to coat the front of the van and shatter the windshield. The pair went home to the warehouse, which was now a bit cramped, but luck was on their side, actually. Six other gods came to reside in the protruding penis of Reid. The gods of: luck in chance, money, plant fertility, crafting arts and technology, stamina, and handsomeness. By the time they were done with Reid, he had the face of a modelesque, GQ man, with the body of a giant bodybuilding, muscle god, and knowledge of electronics and furniture making as well as financial savy. It wasn't long until Reid was financially independent, and then they bought a much larger warehouse and converted it into something that nearly looked like a grand Edwardian mansion with furniture built their size so they looked somewhat normal when they had flex and sex shows on the internet. That proved to make them very rich financially. Which was good, as folks passing by at night in front of their house swear from time to time they still hear the savage beats of the wild jungle drums and that more and more shadows are cast upon windows of very large, tall, and hung men.
  8. Thedemon1906

    My giant roomate pt2

    Here ir pt two! This is for you @Palver! As always if you have any idea for the story please leave ir in a comment. It makes my job easier and let me write this faster. Thank you! Pd: if someone can help me to calculate the weight of the characters i would be really grateful. I know that meny people like to see the weight but i dont know how much someone weights according to his muscle. Send me a private message _________________________________________ Five days had passed since John moved to his house, and Marcos wasn't happy about it. Every time he wanted to complain, to ask him to stop touching him or even to demand him to wear some clothes, he felt stopped by the intimidating presence of the beast. He only felt safe in his rugby club. Henry and Marcos had been punished to clean the field after they talked too much during exercise. Now that they had finished Marcos was taking a shower in the locker room. While the water run through his meaty pecs he started thinking. He was still kind of uncomfortable with John around but it was much better this days. He was kind of funny and cool, his dad on the other hand was acting a little bit weird. That was maybe cause because he caught them fucking… no he did not, he thought. John and dad would never fuck. Did they fuck? He wasn't sure, he wasn't sure about a lot of things these last days. His thoughts were interrupted by Henry entering the shower on his side. He was quite handsome Marcos thought. He was 6 feet tall and 170 lb. Henry had a dark red hair and bright blue eyes. His body was beautifully sculpted though not as big as Marcos’. -I am getting a little bit hard- Henry said while laughing -Do you smell that?- -smell what?- Marcos asked nervously -I don't know… like, like women- Henry started massaging his dick until it was hard. It was 6.5 inches long and quite thick. It wasn't huge but big. Henry got behind Marcos, until he could feel his breath behind his back. -you are getting bigger. Your pecs…- he put his hand on top of Marcos left pec while the other one stroked his own dick. Marcos closed his eyes and tried to move away but he felt it. The presence of John was around his body stopping him from moving. He felt the heat and force of the giant all around his body. He opened his eyes and stopped trying to move. -your abs- Henry continued down with his hand. His fingers traveled across Marcos abs admiring his physic. Henry moved to be in front of Macos and he knelt. His tongue touches his six pack and made Marcos get goosebumps. The water was falling on Henry’s head while his hands explored his friends body. -why… so hot…- he said stroking his own dick. Henry stood up now they were face to face. So close that Marcos could see his eyes perfectly. His friend hugged him tight, Marcos hugged back for some reason. While he was trying to process what was happening he felt how Henry's hand traveled through his back until it reached his ass. Marcos instinctively curved his back leaving his asshole out. A strong flash of energy entered his eyes as his friend finger slowly entered his asshole. A wave of pleasure filled his mind and he cummed on his friends abs. -Sto...stooo..p- he said while he experienced what had been his strongest orgasm. At the same time his friend that had been jacking off this whole time cummed too. Like of they just woke up from a dream they both look at each others eyes with Henry's finger still up in Macos ass. ------------------------------------------------------------- Both friends now cleaned and dressed up were sitting still at the bench of the locker room. Both looking straight to the front avoiding eye contact. The first one to break the silence was Henry. -I don't know what happened to me… i am sorry- he said close to crying - i have a girlfriend and i am happy with her. And i am happy with you as a friend. I promise i never thought about you in this way. Heck! I never thought of any men this way. Till now i thought that i was straight…- - and now?- Marcos turned around to look at his friend face. He seemed confused and anxious. - well now… now i am not sure- -did you like it?- -i cummed all over you, what do you think?- - yeah i know, but now that we calmed down. What do you feel?- - i feel… i feel that your ass looks hotter now! Omg whats wrong with me- -Nothing, nothing at all. When you, ehem well… when you entered my asshole with your finger i saw something- -what do you mean?- - my cousin moved to my house a couple of days ago. Since then everything has been weird. I have been “examining” my ass every day…- -like masturbating?- - no hahahahaha- they both laughed this time and it gave Marcos a final push to finish his story -like measuring it and stuff and i notice that is getting bigger. Not only that but i am also forgetting things. I have the impression that my cousin is doing something with me at night but i can't remember- - Like raping you?- Henry ask full of concern - no, no i don't think so. But is changing me, when you started touching me i tried to move but i felt him stopping me from doing anything- -but did you like it? DID I JUST RAPED YOU?- -Well i guess that's the weird part. I was uncomfortable the whole time. But the moment your finger entered my ass i felt something change…- They both sat quietly uncomfortable but slightly aroused. Henry moved his erection under his shorts to a more comfortable position. -i don't know what is happening but i know is caused by my giant roommate- ____________________________________ By the time Marcos left the locker room the sun had gone. It was a beautiful night and Marcos was walking in the middle of the street looking at the sky. A gentle and cold breeze refreshed the teenage boy’s mind. He wasn't in a hurry. He didn't remember almost anything that happened this last days and he was afraid of what could happen. Something told him that he had changed and now he wouldn't forget. Or that was he hoped. His feet moved almost independently as his mind wandered thinking. He still didn't feel attracted towards Henry but the thought of his ass being touched got him really aroused. He had reached his house. He put his right hand on top of the doorknob and the other touched his ass. He was prepared for whatever thing he would find inside. ____________________________________ He was inside of his house and nothing seemed out of place. He took a deep breath and felt the fresh air filling his lounges. There was something in it, something animal, like pheromones or something like that but more intense. His dick got hard immediately and he followed the smell ,like a wolf, to the living room. -Dad?- he asked disgusted - what are you doing. Martin was completely naked while cleaning the tv. Marcos noticed that he looked younger and thinner but what caught his attention was his huge bubble that moved graciously as he walked. He had gotten smaller too. Marcos’ dick was pressing really hard against his pants. - John told me to clean the house- - and why are you naked?!- - he told me to do it this way- Marcos barely heard what his father just said his ass was making it hard for him to concentrate. - why… why are you doing it? You could just say no! Where is him?- - He went outside, he said he needed to walk- Marcos got close to his father. Martin was facing his back towards his son as he picked up a consumed beer can. Marcos couldn't take it anymore more, he took out his throbbing dick and abruptly entered in his dad asshole. His dad let a little scream as he tried to move but he was much smaller than Marcos. His son put one hand in his wrist and with the other he grabbed his dad hair to accommodate his dad’s back. He slowly pull out while his dad panted. Then with the power of a bull he entered again. He felt how his muscular pelvis hitted his dad's gorgeous ass. His dick was pressed tightly by the walls of his asshole and he felt the warmth of his body. He started thrusting his cock faster and faster and his Martin’s complaints turned to moans. His ashole streatch to welcome the new intruder and his dick got hard only by the feeling of submission. His own muscular son was fucking him as a woman and he loved it. He could feel the hard hot cock moving inside of him. Marcos threw him to the wall and pressed the smaller guy with his entire body. The he grabbed hi hip and fucked him as fast as hi could. His dad was almost crying because both the pleasure and the pain. Marcoa felt like he was regaining his masculinity and started thrusting with more power making his body hit even harder his dad’s ass. He was ready, with a last swing he cummed inside of his dad’s asshole filling it with cum. He pull out and he let go his father who fell to the floor. He was exhausted. -that… that was amazing- he said between breaths. -clean it- Marcos said putting his cummed dick in front of his dad’s mouth. Martin cleaned his son cock with his tongue leaving it without any semen. - I won't eat today. I will be in my room- Marcos said as he went up the stairs-
  9. Thedemon1906

    My giant roomate

    Hello! I havent correct it yet so if you see any errors please comment where it is. English is not my first language so be patient. Sooooo if you liked the story tell me which part because i want to make a second part and your ideas might be useful. Thank you! _________________________________________ Marcos was just arriving to his house. Today’s workout session was the hardest he ever did and his legs were killing him. Since last year the coach had changed. He was much more strict and made them workout like professionals. Because of this Marcos has grown bigger and more muscular. Having just turn 17 he had a grow spurt and now he was the biggest guy at School. He was 6,2 feet tall and weigh 210 lb and was happy about it. He likes the way girls look at him now, especially his girlfriend Amanda that was always touching his body. All of this makes him feel pretty confident and among other men of his class he feels dominant. A black car in front of his house told him that his father was home. He walked inside of the house and closed the door with the lock. -Dad! I am here!- he shouted as he walked towards the living room. He was shocked when he saw a huge shirtless man doing push ups in the floor. -do...do you know where is my dad?- The gigant stood up and got uncomfortably close to Marcos. He was 8.2 feet tall and really muscular. His arms were like small cannons ready to fire up. His pecs were the size of a human head and were touching Marcos forehead. 8 meat bricks were covered in sweat and hair, while his legs seamed of the size of a small human being. Marcos couldn't see his face till he bend his neck to the fullest. A black beard covered his squared jaw and two bright green eyes were looking down at him. Marcos noticed that his beautiful mouth curved in a friendly smile. -Hello, i am John. Nice to meet you, yo must be - Marcos felt the vibration that the strangers deep and powerful voice made -your dad is upstairs in his room- -thank you- said Marcos looking at the floor. He walk quite fast, almost running and went upstairs. His heart was beating fast an he was sweating. In that moment he couldn't tell what was causing that reaction, but it was fear and submission. He wasn't gay, and he wasn't attracted to John in any way but he had just been in the same room as the person that must be the biggest and most muscular men in history. As he walked to his dad’s room he started to regain confidence. Now with a clear head he couldn't believe the way in which he reacted. Filled with anger he opened his dad’s door with a lot of force. -Who is down stairs?- he asked almost shouting -Is your cousin John. He is staying with us for a while- only covered by a towel Martín was , at the eyes of his own son, a runt. He was only a 5.2 skeleton covered with skin. He even seemed younger than his own son. There was nothing special in his looks and nothing interesting in his personality. Marcos thought of it for a while, his house was really small. A livingroom , a kitchen, two bathrooms and two bedrooms. Only two bedrooms! And a giant like that would need an entire house for his own. -Where is he going to sleep?- he asked impatient -Well… i showed him the house and he seemed interested with your room- -WHAT?!! I only have one bed! Will he sleep in the floor?- His dad took more time to answer with that question. He was afraid of how his muscular teenager would answer. -well… i thought you two could share a bed- The only thought of that situation got Marcos’ blood boiling. John was way too big to share a bed with, even when that bed is king size. -No, that is not going to happen- - well then you should talk that with him- Marcos was furious. As he went down the stairs he was thinking what he was going to say to his new cousin. But when he reached the living room he freezed in his place. John now had a huge t-shirt that was pressing hard against his body. Every movement of his arms made his biceps press against the fabric near to destruction. It was like his shirt was being tortured. ------------------------------------------------------------- At night they eat pizza, it went by peacefully as John talked about his home country in germany. Marcos was still thinking about what happened earlier, how he got to afraid to complain to John. He was also bored because even though John was right across the table his legs and enormous feet were reaching his side. Back to his room was were the problems started. -so… this is my side and that's yours- -yes- Marcos timidly answer - do you mind if i sleep naked? Marcos was shocked by that question. He wasn't going to sleep with a naked man. -I will take your silence as a yes- John said and before Marcos could say anything he was already naked. A 8 inch cock was hanging between the pillars that the gigan had for legs. It was as thick as Marcos’ arm and it looked like it could destroy a wall. -...omg- Marcos whispered. John got in the bed as if he hadn't heard anything and Marcos slowly followed. He could feel the heat that the enormous man emitted and they were shoulder to shoulder. Marcos faced his back towards the giant but he could feel that John was facing him. Just before he slept he felt John’s big hand grabbing his ass. ------------------------------------------------------------- Marcos thought that rugby practice was easier today. They trained the upper part of the legs and triceps. He talked with Henry at lunch. His friend was getting bigger but he wasn't near to Marcos. The house seemed empty so he went directly to his room. He opened the door and jumped to his bed. He was alone, and that made him happy. His hands felt a small depression in the mattress and a shiver ran through his back. The beast he had for roommate had caused the mattress to give in to his weight. He felt a weird sensation in his ass and he put his hand on it. Did John grabbed my ass yesterday?, He thought. He wasn't sure if it had been a dream or maybe an accident. He took out his phone and started chatting with his girlfriend. A loud moan came from his dad’s room. Marcos thought he was alone. Was his father with a girl? That wasn't possible, Marcos has never seen his dad with a girl. The wall started shaking and what he now recognized as his dad's moans were getting louder. He step up furiously and walked to his dad's door. He pushed and… John was naked standing in the middle of the bedroom naked , with his dad in the air grabbed by both of his hands and a 12 inch cock up in Martin’s ass. Thrust after thrust the humongous piece of meat stretched the little guys whole body. Like a machine each muscle of his sweaty body was pulsing with energy. It was godlike, he was lifting Martin’s entire body and moving it up and down his dick with no effort. Marcos looked at his dad face that was both filled with pleasure and pain. His limbs moved freely as a doll used by his owner. Marcos closed the door and ran to his room. What he had just seen?. Two hour had passed when Marcos decided to go out of his room. He had been thinking. Was his dad gay? And more importantly, is really John a human? When he watched them fuck he saw true perfection. It wasn't a gigant, he was a god. Every enormous muscle, that perfect dick, the way sweat covered his chiseled abs and his manly though handsome face showed domination and security. He was still straight and that didn't make him hot. But he had to admit that what he saw was the most perfect human being. He was down stairs and went to the kitchen. In there he saw his father naked cooking and John also naked grabbing his ass just behind him. Marcos wanted to shout but he couldn't. -Look who's up- John said as he approached Marcos till they were touching body. Marcos felt how the beast’s flaccid dick was pressing against his abs. He tried to move backwards but John stopped him by grabbing his ass. -Looks you have been training this- John said while he explored with his big hands Marcos’ ass. Grabbing, touching, Groping. He pressed Marcos tight to his body. -stop… please- - Okay! I am just being friendly hahahaha- Marcos sat in the table i little bit nauseous. He was going to sleep with that monster.
  10. arbotimus

    The Hazing

    This one got me especially hard while writing it. Special thanks to Xyggurat for the story idea and help along the way. Neal ran his favorite red styling brush through his hair, slicked back and neatly trimmed. The last stray strand was finally wrangled into place, the caramel color of his Indian skin contrasting subtly against his perfectly symmetrical hairline. His large, brown eyes inspected every detail of the finished product in the mirror. Neal spent almost an hour every day washing and styling until his hair was perfectly coiffed. He wasn’t the most handsome gay on the block, but he certainly cleaned up the best. His collared shirt and khaki shorts that cut off above his knees lent a preppy air to his clean features. This was Neal’s favorite part of the day, putting his face and outfit together. If he had spent half as much time in the gym as he did styling, he would be a god. Neal chose instead to hide his lanky features beneath designer clothes. He headed downstairs from his room to the first floor of the frat house he lived in. They were a small frat at a small university, but everything here was orderly and clean. That was a large part of what drove Neal to this frat in the first place. He liked sanitary living quarters. Joaquin met him as he made his way towards the entrance. “Are you ready for this?” he asked. “Honestly, I just want to get it over with. I’m not terribly interested in bossing a little brat around in the name of brotherhood.” Neal replied. “Aww, come on, lighten up. It’ll be fun, having a personal servant for the next few days. I am, of course, lending my slave to Cyndi as a, uh, belated anniversary present, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a little fun,” he said. “I think that’s called abuse of power, Joaquin,” Neal said, mostly jokingly. “Eh,” he shrugged it off. They strolled together out of the house to join the rest of their brothers on the lawn. A row of timid freshman stood before the group, most trying to hide their anxiety with feigned careless expressions. Neal gave them all a quick once-over to assess which one would be the least annoying. One in particular caught his attention. He caught everyone’s attention, probably, standing a head taller and about twice as wide as the rest of the nominees. His slightly wrinkled gym clothes and unshaven face made Neal cringe a bit, but the rugged ensemble was balanced by arms that stretched out his sleeves to straining and a chest that stuck out in high relief through the tight fabric. Neal’s imagination filled in the loose space below with tight abs that clenched every time he inhaled. Neal guessed that he had to have been a former wrestler who had taken up bodybuilding. He was not often wrong about things like these. Neal moved his eyes on down the line, pretending that he hadn’t taken special notice of the Olympian stud that stuck out like a phoenix in a flock of pigeons. But as the rest of the sordid cast failed to impress him, his gaze wandered back over to the veritable Adonis. He quickly found himself lost in the icy blue eyes that were both confident and a little bit sly, staring casually ahead. His blond, short cut hair was dulled but still vibrant in the early morning light. He was the image of masculinity and youth. Helios in basketball shorts. Neal was torn from his reverie by the sound of a throat clearing. John, the frat president, proceeded with a long-winded speech about the meaning of brotherhood and the tradition of the fraternity. Neal couldn’t be bothered to pay attention while he was so busy with his exaltation. John blathered on with his trivial monologue, explaining to the pledges that they would be assigned to fulfill the needs of a brother for the next three days to demonstrate their loyalty (and not, Neal noted, just as an excuse to avoid doing chores). The hot pledge was focused intently on John. Lucky John. “And now for your assigned brothers…” John said, listing off names as ceremoniously as he possibly could while standing on a plastic chair in the tiny, unadorned lawn. “Kent and Neal,” he said. And, of course, the hot pledge stepped forward. Although he had a name now, Neal thought. He should probably learn it. Kent Kent Kent. Neal glanced at John and gave him a brief look of exasperation. John knew he was the only gay brother in the house, and clearly this had gone into the decision making. For the first time since he started speaking, John gave a subtle smirk, as if to say “You’re welcome.” Neal took a deep breath and approached Kent with all the poise and confidence a senior brother should have over a pledge. Kent approached him calmly, holding out his hand. His gaze aimed downwards into Neal’s, the intensity of the color giving Neal a momentary pause. “Kent,” was the only thing he said. “I’m Neal,” he responded, shaking Kent’s hand. Firm and rough, a weightlifter’s hand, and he didn’t shake lightly. His hands felt clean, at least, even if he was overall scruffy. Kent was about to speak again, but Neal interrupted him. “But you can call me big brother for today. My first class starts in half an hour. You’ll carry my stuff to class.” Even though Neal was trembling on the inside, he was not about to let it show. Kent took to his role as personal butler quickly, and readily accepted Neal’s backpack. Neal guided them forward, Kent following deftly behind. Small talk ensued. Kent was here on an academic scholarship, a transplant from California. He had planned to go on to medical school somewhere on the west coast. “If we’re being honest, I thought you were here on a sports scholarship. What with the school logo on your shirt and all.” Neal said. Kent gave a sympathetic chuckle. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” “I bet” Neal said. “I could if I wanted to, though. The teams around here aren’t much to sneeze at. And, I mean…” he motioned down to his body, as if to say “look at me.” So modesty wasn’t his strong suit. Neal gave him that resigned but sassy “oh really” look. Meanwhile he was fighting a public erection. From the look on his face, Kent knew exactly how to play this game. The more he could fluster his big brother, the fewer menial tasks would be thrown his way over the next three days. Neal’s mind wandered back to past exploits who, though not quite as built as Kent, had used him until something better came along. Each one had blighted his confidence, and now there was not much left to speak of, at least internally. He turned away from the Kryptonian display, not eager to let his highly polished exterior falter. This was going to be a torturous three days. Then, as if to confirm his fate, a passing gull left a messy present on Neal’s shoulder. While he usually prided himself in his composure, unexpected messes were almost intolerable. Kent let out a small chuckle. “Go in the front pocket of my bag and pull out the baby wipes.” Neal demanded, coming unhinged. Kent did as he was told. Neal started scrubbing furiously. “I can’t see it very well…” Neal said. He glanced at his burly butler for a moment, contemplating his position. “I need you to wipe it off for me.” Neal held his breath as Kent’s body towered over his own. He watched the burgeoning arm muscles tense and harden as Kent started to clean him. Neal was trying his hardest not to get aroused, but he was doing a poor job in the face of such overwhelming temptation. Kent’s scent somehow reminded him of his grandmother’s house in New Mexico. Neal was about to lean in closer when Kent paused. Neal glanced over his other shoulder to see what had happened. A group of muscle-bound jocks were sitting at a table in the distance and giggling in their direction. “You know them?” Neal asked. “Yeah, my friends…” Kent said. Neal paused for a moment. He was torn between basic human kindness and his almost irrational compulsion to not be covered in bird droppings. His current status as master to this muscle-bound servant tipped his priorities towards the latter. “Keep scrubbing.” Neal could have sworn that Kent started blushing. Neal felt something strange well up inside of him. It was oddly pleasant, starting at his chest and emanating outwards towards his back, arms, and legs. As it faded, he felt as if he had just finished a light workout and he was slightly out of breath. He felt spry, limber, and refreshed. Eventually the stain faded enough for Neal to feel secure again, and Kent backed away. Neal thought it was almost kind of cute to see him fumble. Kent regained his composure as quickly as he had lost it, but Neal did not forget the feeling it inspired. That night, Neal reflected on the day as he began his nightly beauty rituals. Aside from the bird poop incident, Kent had not faltered in his cocky jock persona. He picked up Neal with a casual ease when he tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, bragged over his medical knowledge despite being a freshman, and opened a jar in half a second that had refused to yield to Neal’s scrawny arms (exaggerating the flexion in his forearms and biceps as he twisted the lid). Neal felt like he was the one being hazed. No matter what he asked Kent to do, he did it with such ease and confidence that Neal was the one left embarrassed. Neal disrobed to his boxers, which were his nightly wear in the heat of the summer. He noticed that his body looked more toned today. A little bit rounder in the shoulders, more defined in the abs. The curve of his triceps even started to make an appearance when he flexed them. Apparently just hanging out with a jock was enough to make you more like them. Neal hopped into bed, proud of his small victory at the end of a drudging day. Kent was all too chipper the next morning when Neal came out to greet him. Neal was preemptively exhausted by the day ahead, and tossed his backpack towards Kent. Kent caught it and lifted it up and down a few times, showing off the smooth, round marble that composed his biceps. “A little heavier than yesterday,” he said. “I have a lab today,” Neal responded, knowing that an explanation didn’t really matter. Neal trudged onwards towards class, Kent following dutifully behind him. Neal noticed that his shadow was eclipsed by Kent’s. Even following in Neal’s wake he was demonstrating his superiority. That was until Neal happened to glance Kent’s friends out of the corner of his eye. Deciding that it would be okay to be late for just one class, he took a detour in their direction. He flaunted his impotent attendant as he passed. Fortunately for Neal, one of Kent’s friends was quick on the draw and threw a piece of paper on the ground near a trash can. Neal didn’t wait a moment. “Go pick it up,” he said. Kent hesitated for a moment. “Well?” Neal asked, letting a mischievous grin escape. Kent was now blushing full force. “Go on, golden boy,” said one of Kent’s larger friends. Kent did as he was told. And Neal felt it again, the pleasant humming in his chest. It was stronger this time, and did not fade as quickly. He thought he might be imagining it, but his shirt felt a little tighter as it ended, and his shorts were pulled a little higher above his knees. This sensation scared him a little, but he didn’t feel the need to stop. “Kent?” Neal said. “Yes?” he responded. “Yes?...” “Yes, big bro” Kent muttered shyly. The jock behind him burst out laughing. Neal felt it again. Now he was sure his sleeves were getting tight. He needed to invest in looser clothing. “Time for class. Let’s go, pledge.” Another bump. Neal was starting to get hard when it happened, too. He tried not to face his body to Kent, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “I figure it’s not really hazing if you don’t suffer at least a little,” Neal said jokingly, looking Kent straight in the eyes. Kent just grunted. His demeanor changed as well. He seemed to be distracted, and he had lost his confident air. Neal noticed this and it only fueled whatever state he was in. It was getting harder to ignore the stretch in his shorts when he walked, or the feeling of his chest rising beneath his shirt. He noticed that Neal was not quite filling out his shirt the way he used to. More like a heavy fitness model than a budding bodybuilder. Kent had taken to looking down, and his shoulders were hunched over. Neal attributed his sudden change in size to poor posture. By the time they got to Neal’s first class, he had become accustomed to his tight fitting clothes. He even enjoyed it, a little. All of the pride he had taken in his looks was now adorned on a more worthy frame. The fact that his clothes fit better just augmented the clean look he had always strived for. Their trip had also given Kent time to recover to his former attitude. He had taken to answering all the professors’ questions in every class, which annoyed Neal to no end. His last class of the day was an advanced cellular biology course. Unlike before, Kent found himself struggling to keep up with the lecture. Even though it wasn’t expected of him to follow, it was clear that his pride was more than a little hurt as a scholarship recipient and future doctor. Neal came in behind the professor and explained everything, showing off just how much more he knew. And every time Neal explained, he grew a little bit more. His hard on was hidden under the tablet arm. When everyone got up to go, Neal looked down and noticed that his undershirt was starting to show through the gaps in his collared tee. He was pretty sure he his shorts would rip if he moved, as well. Meanwhile Kent was facing the opposite problem. His shirt was now looked appropriately sized, and while his arms were still far burlier than most, they lacked that sleeve-stretching quality. Neal began to realize what was happening to the both of them. He stared long and hard at Kent, deciding what to do. He sent Kent home for the night, making up some excuse about a family emergency. Neal’s nightly mirror ritual took a somewhat different course than usual. He stared at the changes in his body for a long time before he finally accepted what was happening. His breathing was heavy. Neal had always been the runt of the litter, and now that he was above average size his clothes felt like they were made for kids. The first thing he noticed was how tightly the buttons on his shirt were held together. In fact, he was surprised they hadn’t bust open already. Each button undone gave his chest the freedom it had been yearning for all day. He felt the smooth, hard roundness of his shoulders as he slid the shirt over them, having to peel his sleeves off of his arms. Small softballs, when he flexed. Next to come off were his shorts. Neal had a tough go of it. They were tight to begin with, and now it was almost impossible to roll them off the meaty quads that adorned his legs. Even his calves gave him some trouble. Neal was hard at his reflection in the mirror. For once he couldn’t decide what he was going to wear the next day. Nothing would fit. Neal sent Kent a message the next morning: “I’m going to need to borrow some of your clothes. All of my gym clothes are in the wash.” It was a Saturday, and Neal was surprised that Kent was awake to respond. Kent didn’t question the request, or that Neal had invited himself over. Kent’s place was on the way to the gym. Neal threw on his baggiest clothes, for once not caring very much how he dressed. Even in his sweatshirt and loose jeans, he was still more attractive than he had ever been. When he got there, Neal noticed that he did not have to look up at Kent very much anymore. Kent was still noticeably larger than him, but Neal felt that it wouldn’t be long before that changed. Kent seemed too absorbed in the changes happening to his own body to have noticed the dramatic changes in Neal. In fact, he barely looked in Neal’s direction, opting to avert his gaze towards the ground. Kent led Neal into his room, not paying him much attention as he rummaged through is dresser to find clothes that would fit his new brother. Neal, emboldened by the changes, began to disrobe. “Damn,” Kent said. “I didn’t realize you were so stacked.” Neal smiled. He tried to subtly admire his abs, pretending that they were a quotidian feature of his body. “Really, you think so?” he said. He lingered for a little too long, perhaps, to sell that particular tale. “It’s a well-kept secret,” he lied. And he felt the surge of growth as Kent admired his body. He was almost eye level now. And approaching equal size with Kent. “Kent,” Neal beckoned. “Yes, big bro?” Bump. “Get on the floor. Pushups. Go.” Neal demanded. Kent was all too happy to oblige. This was his area of expertise, and he needed no further prodding to work out. Kent had only pounded out ten (with grace and ease, despite his loss in size) when Neal, in a sudden fit of competitive spirit, joined him. Neal had never completed more than twenty five pushups in a row in his life. But he breezed past thirty without a sweat with the strength he had stolen from Kent. He made a point of counting out loud, too. Kent started as well. And slowly Neal started to overtake him. The harder he pushed, the more frustrated Kent became, and the more he fueled Neal’s growth. Neal felt tireless. Instead of slowing down he was speeding up, his body taking all of the energy it needed from the former giant. Eventually Kent couldn’t push up any longer. Neal kept going, his vigor almost endless. He stared at Kent directly in the eyes as he hefted himself up and down with Kent’s strength. “Man, that was too easy,” Neal said. He had stopped out of courtesy to Kent, not having broken a sweat. Meanwhile Kent was struggling to get up, his shirt soaking. By the time Kent got up, he noticed that he was looking up at Neal. He started to panic. “What the fuck is going on?” he said. Kent tried to bolt. Neal grabbed him out of instinct. Normally Kent was not used to being pushed around by anybody, but in Neal’s vice-like grip he was completely immobilized. Neal stared into his frosty eyes. They were full of fear and panic. Kent was still beautiful by anyone’s standards. His body was more like a model’s now, muscular in all the right places and lean in others. If it wasn’t for his scruffy beard and gym clothes, he would have belonged on an Abercrombie bag. But compared to Neal he didn’t stand a chance. Neal noticed how the curve of his triceps formed a nice shadow as he so casually held Kent in place. “Wow, it’s so easy to subdue you. Are you even trying to get away?” Neal said. Kent started to flail in response. That wouldn’t do. Neal reacted with reflexes that were not his own, wrestling Kent down to the ground until he was on top of him. Kent’s arms were bent behind his back and his legs were held down by the prodigious thighs Neal now possessed. “You know, the more you struggle and can’t get away the stronger I get…it’s fun to watch.” Kent stopped moving. Neal still held him down, enjoying his absolute control over the stud that he had drooled over just two days ago. He was sure Kent could feel his hard on pressing against his ass. Eventually Neal let Kent go, and Kent had no further intent of trying to escape. It was useless anyhow. He was too familiar with his old body to think he could escape the behemoth that now sat before him. While Kent contemplated his situation, Neal was having fun exploring his new body. Between bouncing his pecs and lifting up his massive arms to pronounce to all of the world his newfound size, he tried a few poses that came naturally to him now: side chest, most muscular, lat spread. And not a hair out of place. Between those poses he noticed Kent getting hard. “You want this, don’t you pledge?” Kent just stared at Neal with his still ruggedly handsome face and piercing eyes. “As much as I like your new model look, I’m afraid I’ll have to be taking that as well.” Kent did not much seem to object. Neal ceremoniously took his cock out of his boxers, growing to a size well beyond what he had before. Kent fell to his knees, opening his mouth. Neal’s pre dripped down onto Kent’s lips as he took out his tongue. Kent’s cheeks were red. Neal liked that. He smacked his cock against Kent’s face a few times. “You must have done that so many times…how does it feel?” Neal said. Kent just stared at him, placing his mouth over Neal’s dick. Neal’s eyes closed as Kent worked his tongue up and down his shaft. He could still feel the pleasant glowing inside him as he took the last of Kent’s strength away. And the best part was that Kent wanted it now. Kent belonged to him, body and soul. Kent couldn’t help but spill a little when Neal released his load into his mouth. Neal’s cock had been growing while it was still inside him, and Neal wasn’t shy about releasing his full load. When Kent opened his eyes, he saw that Neal had been flexing in the mirror. Neal didn’t waste any time. “Hand me one of your shirts. The loosest one,” he said. Kent obediently fetched him a shirt. He didn’t really have a choice now. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like he was barely out of high school, and his old clothes draped over him like he was a little kid wearing his dad’s oversized shirt. Neal slid Kent’s tee over his arms and struggled to get it passed his chest. It didn’t even make it all the way down to his waist. Neal tried not to move. He was afraid he would tear his new servant’s clothes. He was already stretching them to max capacity, and he was clearly larger than Kent had even been. He started to get hard again. “What now?” Kent asked. “Well I guess you’ll just have to be my servant from now on, little dude. How about you bring those lips over here again?” Neal said. Kent did as he was told.
  11. LJackson

    Muscle Worshippers: Chapter 8 of 14

    Chapter 7 is here. And this is really where it gets interesting... 8 Olly Friday, September 26th Late for work again today. I know it's wrong. A month ago I would haven't dreamt of it. A month ago I was early, eager to please — god, such a good little boy. But was that bad? I love the library — I don't want to piss off Mr Bartholomew — but equally, I can't bring myself to give a fuck. Am I a bad boy now? I'm definitely not so little these days. No, I'm not a bad boy. God knows, I'm working harder than ever. I get up at five to get to the gym early enough for my morning session. Just me, the Beast, and a few other hardcore lads. We devotees of the iron, sweat and lift. Most of those other guys in the early morning, city types with nice pecs, are still only doing half the work that me and the Beast are putting in. We're there to do a cardio session and a few light weights. We spar a little in the changing rooms. That's just session one. We still have our weights session scheduled for the evening. No, that's all good. Mum and Dad and Anthony are pleased to see me taking some exercise. My parents are glad to see me becoming a man. Anthony nods encouragingly, but I can see there's something behind his eyes. Perhaps he's not sure which of us is the big brother nowadays. Especially after his nice pale blue interview shirt got ripped up the back. He found it on my bedroom floor. 'Jesus Christ,' he said, 'What happened to this?' I wasn't in the mood to talk nicely about it. It was a Saturday morning and I was getting ready to go for a swim. 'I guess I happened to it, bro. I'll replace it.' 'You get in a fight?' 'What are you, deaf, blind or an idiot? I told you that I happened to it. In case you haven't noticed, I've put on some weight since you first leant it to me.' 'You mean you outgrew my shirt?' He was turning it over in his hands. 'The sleeves are all burst too.' 'Are they? Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realise you cared about it so much.' 'You don't seem to remember it happening.' 'Sometimes when I've had a good session, and I'm really pumped, I guess I forget myself a bit,' I tried to explain, still packing my swim bag: towel, trunks, shake... 'I just can't believe you've put on any muscle so fast.' 'It happens when you first start at the gym. The Beast's an expert, and I've been reading up. A guy my age has the right chemical balance. He's ready to...' 'Explode?' 'If you want.' 'Show me,' he said. I really hadn't wanted this, but he'd asked for it. I went and stood before him and pulled off my sweat top. I like it because it keeps my new physique something of a secret. It's outsize. You can't tell, at first glance, how very outsize I am. 'Oh, fuck.' He covered his mouth with his hand. 'Olly, you look like a — like a gorilla or something.' 'Do you see how I bust your shirt open now?' I balled my hands into fist, demonstrating the iron bars my forearms have become. I banged on my chest with one first. The smack and the little bounce always made me want to smile, especially thinking how little I used to look when I first struck these poses in the bathroom mirror. 'Do you see what I'm packing? Your shirt was for a normal sized guy, Anthony, and I've started to go way beyond normal.' 'I suppose you're just...' His mouth was dry, staring at the thick sinew of my arms, my hulking shoulders, my rugged six pack. 'You're growing up faster than I thought. I didn't realise you even had chest hair.' I ran my fingertips through it. 'That's testosterone. When you're working out at my capacity, the body starts producing more of it. I'm flooded with testosterone now, and it — well...' I clapped my hands together for emphasis, and couldn't resist pulling a momentary 'most muscular' pose, so he could see the whole story. 'It makes things grow.' He shook his head in disbelief. 'I hope you know what you're doing.' 'Don't worry, little guy,' I patted his shoulder patronisingly. 'I'm right on course.' He looked repelled, and for some reason I loved it. I tried not to show what a turn-on it was, just pulled my sweat top back on and went out the door for that swim. Mr Bartholomew is less than happy. Last Friday he complained that I wasn't taking the job seriously. That was at the start of the day, and I swallowed that down pretty well, but he kept on at me all day. I told him how I was carrying three times the number of books about now, and could reach the higher shelves without standing on a step ladder. He said that was all very well, but that it was attitude that was the thing, and I had a bad one. That afternoon the ex-policeman came in for a chat. Well, I've written about him in here before. It's the highlight of my week. At first I thought it was just because he's a tough like me, and in some ways more so than the Beast. He doesn't lift or anything, but he's army-fit, and fucking tall. He towers over the Beast and has to stoop a little just to come in at the door. He's been in some hard situations, he told me. He said he chased down drug dealers and smacked their heads together. He's been in situations where he's carried a gun, and others where he's had to wrestle a bloke to the floor and pin him. That takes strength, sure, but it takes something more: self-belief. Yeah, he's a tough guy, a real man, the sort of guy my brother would be shy of talking to. Not sure why he quit the force. Reading between the lines, I think it was something to do with addiction. The first time we talked, he wanted to know about gym stuff. I got a real buzz when I realised he'd noticed the little changes in my body, the output of all my input. It's nice to be admired. Of course, I like it from girls most of all. I like to see that look in their eyes that their pussy is melting, that they want me inside it, that they're dreaming of my cock. But when I get it from guys it's worth three times as much, because I know they're saying they put themselves beneath me. I am the dominant one, the alpha male, for once. And then when he was asking again last week, the penny dropped. He's gay. A little — or rather, six foot something — poof. And I realised, as I was talking, that his eyes kept going down to my arms, my chest, my packet. He couldn't stop staring, and then I could see a look come over his face. The look that meant he wanted me to come over his face. I folded my arms before him, and he had to actually take a step back. His eyes boggled. 'So, where do you work out?' he asked me. 'Uranus,' I told him. 'It's just down that way.' I pointed past his shoulder so that my massive arm was right in his face. He stared at it like a hungry man looking at steak. 'Maybe you should come along.' 'I'd like to,' he said. 'You'd like to what?' I said, leaning in conspiratorially. 'I'd like to come,' he said. 'With me?' I said. 'If you're interested,' he said. I gave a big laugh then, put out a big hand and pushed him away playfully. He almost stumbled. 'You've changed since I first came in here, if you don't mind me saying so,' he said, and I've been puzzling over what he meant exactly. But later that day, when the last customer had gone and we were locking up, Mr B. cornered me by the photocopier and said I needed to spend less time chatting and more time doing what I was paid for, or perhaps they'd decide my presence was not required. After a whole day of being baited, that's when the red mist finally came down. I turned and shoved the guy, less playfully then I did the ex-police officer. He went down right away. 'Please don't hurt me,' he whimpered. 'Please don't hurt me,' I parroted. 'I didn't mean to be rude,' he said, 'but -' 'But you're used to being a bully,' I said. 'I'm not. But I could get a taste for this.' I went and stood over him. He looked up at me in horror but also in desire. He didn't know what he wanted, but I did. I slowly undid the top button on my chinos. 'I thought you were a different sort of boy when I employed you,' he said. 'The sort you could push around,' I said, slowly unzipping my fly. 'You were so polite, so sweet-natured.' 'I was littler then,' I said, reaching into my trousers and pulling out my junk, still wrapped in my clean white briefs. I cradled it in my hand, letting him take it in. 'I've grown up a bit.' 'That's a nice size,' he said greedily, getting up onto his knees. 'It's certainly more than I'm used to,' I laughed. 'Do you want — do you want me to suck you?' he asked. More worldly wise than I'd have thought. 'Open wide,' I said, and pulled out my dick. He looked up, uncomprehending, then turned back to my big soft cock, hanging like a piece of ripe fruit from a big, solid tree. He opened his mouth. I caught the back of his throat with a stream of golden piss. He gasped, but I grabbed his curly, grey-white-black hair, and after a second or two he relaxed, and took it like a man. 'Say thank you,' I said. 'Thank you, sir,' he said. 'No more complaints from you, I hope.' 'I only want what's best for the library,' he said, wiping his mouth. 'And all of us,' he added quickly. No, I don't think I'll have any more trouble from him. And I don't think my work out regime is affecting going to the library. I'm always finished in plenty of time to reach the door for opening time, especially now I can run faster than ever before, and it's only a couple of streets away. None of that is so wrong. But when I've finished my morning session, then comes the shower. The Beast and I still shower in adjacent cubicles, just like that first day when could barely lift 10kg. Back when I was a shrimp next to him. I'm nowhere hear his weight and size yet, of course, or his definition — he's still bigger than me, and has five years' advantage on me. I'm still nowhere near the point where I can live my dream. Take his place. Have Estelle tell him how much more she likes my dick. Have him grovel in front of me and call me his master. I'm still too weak for that. And crazy enough that my dick is growing with my muscle, I'm not even half as hung as he is. And we're still pals. We go into our showers together, and I take my bar of Coal Tar soap, and I turn on the water. Jets of red hot water hit my shoulder blades and run down the crevice of my arse, into my arse hole, and down my newly engorged thighs. I take the soap and rub it in circles on my shoulders, around the burning ridges of my trapezius muscles, inside my stinking, furry armpits, over the hard ridges of my stomach, round my dick and balls, up and down my thighs, and up inside my chocolate starfish. And this is where I start to go wrong. This is where I am able to take stock of how my biceps have swelled and my triceps have swelled, as I raise my arms to scrub away beneath them; I can appreciate, in this silence of the water hissing, how much harder and wider my lats are than last week. I soap up my pecs and I take note of how much broader they have grown, and how much further they stand from shoulders and my thick, vascular neck. This is when my dick becomes solid, and I can practically feel my heart beating in it. It seems to stand a little longer and flare a little wider every time I get it hard, and then I soak away at it, marvelling at how it's grown, adoring it with the caress of my bar of Coal Tar. Now I am able to flex and pose and feel how much the muscle has sprouted on and within me. I love feeling the extra mass that I've grown, sometimes overnight. I have to feel the new thickness and solidity of my thick cock, as I pump my big fist on it. I go into a reverie where all I am conscious of is the size of my muscle and how it has grown. I think about the stares I've got from girls and from guys. I think about how I bust Anthony's shirt and how he looked at me with such envy. I think of the jeans I was wearing last week that ripped at the seams because my thighs are so big now. I think of how I accidentally snapped a door handle off the door at the library. I reach down and feel my balls, now big juicy orbs full of spunk. I reach around and feel the tightness and roundness of my glutes. I twist and look down at my tree trunk thighs, grown from hairless saplings. I look at how my body hair has grown wild across the chest and arms and stomach that were completely smooth a week ago. I think of the tiny physique that stood in this cubicle stall once before, half the size of me at least. Fuck, what's happening to me? I feel I'm becoming obsessed. I've got the physique of a true bodybuilder now, but it's not enough — it's really not enough. I've got it in my sights now. Another couple of years and there'll be a beast in that shower stall. Okay, I'm going to have to sneak into the bathroom and have another wank now. I need to do more than get my boss to drink my piss in the library after hours. I need to get some sex soon. I reckon the police officer would go down on me, given half the chance. That's what we were really talking about, last Friday. I made sure of it. 'Come with me?' I said. 'I'm flattered, big guy, but I'm afraid I don't fuck guys. This big mister -' I grabbed my bulge and squeezed it to show him how it crammed my y-fronts ' — is strictly girls allowed.' God, he looked humiliated, though he tried to smile. Fucking queer, after my body. That reminds me. Sophie replied to my text. She's coming tomorrow. I'd better save that wank tonight. I'm going to give her everything I've got.
  12. Part 1 can be found here. 2 Olly Friday, August 1st Getting it on in the 'Mind, Body and Spirit' section! That's a new one. Somehow still can't process it. Wishing I could laugh about it. Wishing even more that I could tell someone. Came home after work and Mum had made pasta (literally, made her own), and we all sat out in the garden together. Not the sort of story you can tell your Mum and Dad, or even your big brother, even if he does self-describe as 'man of the world'. Maybe I could tell one of the guys about it. I am seeing them next week supposedly, and it feels like the kind of story guys tell each other, especially when someone asks about your new job and you're, like, literally a junior librarian. Before Uni, when sex just made us laugh, it would have got around school in five minutes. But it's not hilarious. And I'd have to edit out the part I played. But I do feel like I have to tell the story. I guess that's what a diary is for. I never understood before. I've been filling this out, from a sense of duty, seven months now. Until yesterday I left it out on my bedside table, where Mum could have had a good read through it. Nothing to embarrass her there. Getting tickets to Glastonbury. Doing my Finals at Uni. Getting my hair cut and being told I looked like Daniel Radcliffe with the hair of a One Direction member (thanks Rob). Getting pissed on results day and asking Sophie out. Well, now there's something to write about that I don't want Mum to hear about, and it's not just that I watched a girl of about twenty-one — Jesus, Sophie's age I suppose — going down on a guy in Dulwich Village Public Library. Fuck, I'm getting hard thinking about it again. I don't know if it's possible. My hand is shaking as I write this. I'm confused, I guess, and I need to understand it. Help me, Obi Wan Ke-Diary, you're my only hope! First of all, I feel like I haven't said much about the library itself. The weird thing about today is it felt like it was happening in church. The building must be Victorian, and I never even knew it existed before this summer. I've been to the village on Founder's Day, when the whole school troops into the Chapel and goes down on its knees in thanks for a private education. Then there's the little old art gallery Dad never stops going on about, the one that hasn't got anything painted after the 1800s or whatever. Then there are three shops with names like Valerie's and Country Spray that sell lavender bags for £50. And the library. The council has closed most of its other public libraries, and the ones remaining open are full of internet terminals and graphic novels, but this one (dark wood, dusty books, a few audio books — on cassette!) looks like it's been trapped behind a forcefield since the 1950s. I think Mr Bartholomew might have got trapped inside with it. He's literally got to be gay, but I can't actually imagine a man that tidy having sex. He wears old-fashioned specs and a waistcoat and in my interview he nearly creamed himself when I said I'd just graduated from Cambridge. Perhaps he's just not seen anybody my age for a while. Well, he saw two more today. I was serving at the till, trying to extort fifty pence from a nonagenarian for keeping her Jackie Collins out a week overdue (this is as dramatic as my life gets, or so I thought), when Mr B came over to intervene. At first I assumed he was just letting her off the fine, despite the fact she's clearly not dependent on her pension — it would barely have paid for her ugly sunglasses. Wow, I didn't realise I even thought all this stuff consciously. 'If you wouldn't mind, Olly,' he murmured to me, laying a chilly finger on my shoulder. 'There's an occurrence I'd like you to see to.' I thought maybe someone had wet themselves. 'Mind, Body and Spirit?' I asked. It's a slightly hidden nook at the rear of the building, enclosed by one bookcase of Biographies and one of Health. Mr B nodded. 'Something quite out of the ordinary. Just advise them to go elsewhere. I don't want a scene.' It wasn't a pisser, then. I went away, mind spinning as to what might be going on in those mysterious depths of the library, something Mr B obviously didn't feel himself up to confronting. It may have been at this point that my heart began to beat faster, whether from the idea of some act of anti-social behaviour in such a genteel place, or just the idea of confronting someone, anyone, I don't really know. I suppose I wasn't expecting to find someone like — that girl — to confront. She didn't look like Sophie. In my mind's eye, replaying the scene, the whole afternoon, the whole of this evening, I've imagined her looking like Sophie. Another good reason to get this written down. She was older, for one thing. Sophie turned 21 the week before I did. We talked about not feeling grown-up enough for 21 yet, we laughed. This girl had all the maturity of someone who's moved on from that sense of innocence, if it was only a year or two more. Her blonde hair was in the same, sort of glamorous style, she even wore the same shade of lip gloss. But she dressed in a way Sophie wouldn't dare, not even to a party. I could see at a glance exactly how her tits curved. I could see her little nipples pressed tight against the hot pink fabric, and I could see him — her boyfriend, or whatever — playfully missing them again and again, so she never quite knew when his thumbnail would graze across them. He looked — and I thought this right away, and I thought it while I watched, and I thought it while we spoke, and I've thought it all evening — like nothing so much as a Beast. His arms were covered with thick dark hair, and he was big, like a rugby player but somehow more so — he had the dangerous size of a jungle creature. His back was towards me as I first approached, and it was broad like the roof of a car. I don't just mean it was wide, but the way it curved, up and over the huge globes of his shoulders, down his shoulder blades, which rose up in his t-shirt like great hills, and down toward his waist; he was like an extra-large mannequin designed to stretch t-shirt material and see when it would break. In fact, come to think of it, there were tiny holes in the seams of the t-shirt below his arms. His arms were massive. Some part of my brain kept trying to tell me he was just a fat guy, that if he turned around, he'd have a massive paunch swelling out that t-shirt at the front, but I could see from seeing his forearms and particularly his hands, cupping her breasts, stroking her stomach, holding her jaw while he licked her little throat with his tongue, that they were the hands and arms of a sportsman. There was no softness, there were only hard lines. The bulk he carried was obviously built. As I stood, pretending to sort the books in the carousel, I watched as he caressed her, pushing her lightly back against the bookcase — he couldn't help it, the power behind his gentlest touch pressed her back against the books, slid her about like a doll. Like an Beast would do with a person, not caring whether they kept their balance or fell. Then he stole a quick glance over his shoulder (I looked away just in time, I thought) and reached down and felt deliberately up between her thighs, lifting the hem of her dress with his huge hairy paw. I heard her laugh lightly with pleasure, as her legs parted and she had to grab at his jeans waistband to stabilise herself. I looked across instinctively, and between the bookshelf ends, I saw him crouch down beside her, apparently consulting the shelves to her left. The only sign that something wasn't normal — apart from the fact they were each about thirty years younger than anyone I've ever seen in there — was the way she was smoothing down her dress, and the look she gave me when she saw me looking her way. Her hand, I noticed, was on his head, caressing the number two crop that emphasised his huge skull. I glanced away, glanced back. His massive arm — about three times the size of her thigh — was raised at a right angle, as if for balance, but the hand was up her skirt and I could tell, by the movements of the cloth and the way his tendons flexed, that he was fingering the cloth of her underwear to one side. I decided somehow, blame my upbringing, that it would be rude to actually tell them they had been caught in the act. They would be embarrassed and I would sound like a prude. I wanted them to know — I think this was the case — that I admired them. At the very least, I was in a state of awe. It was more than that, of course. My mouth was dry and my dick was literally rock hard in my jeans. I willed it to go away, but at least I knew nobody would see it. I remember at Daniel's party when Ani was wearing that low cut top (oh, that low cut top) and I couldn't help it, I was harder than ever before. I was so embarrassed at the time, but I asked Dan later and he laughed, 'Sounds like a benefit of being a pencil dick,' he said. 'Nobody clocked a thing!' So now if I 'pop a boner', all I have to do is reach in quickly, switch it to the left, and it's completely invisible. I did this now, by the photocopier. With that done, I decided to casually announce my presence, making it clear I had seen nothing. They would take fright and run away. I went to the returns trolley and scooped up an armful of books to re-shelve. Mr Bartholomew looked across at me and raised his eyebrows, and I tipped him a wink. At the time, I thought, what a twat he was. What harm could a pair like that do? Nobody had even spotted them except us. It was mid-afternoon and the place was practically deserted. As I walked back toward Mind, Body and Spirit, though, I clocked a guy looking over the book case at them. He looked to be in his late thirties, tall (had to be) and lean, in tracksuit bottoms and singlet — he reminded me of my tennis coach at St Ollys, but with something dangerous about him too. If the other guy was a Beast, this one was definitely a Wolf. He was slightly flushed as he watched the scene, but also captivated. The Beast was back on his feet now, and it was the girl who was pretending to look at the books about self-hypnosis and improving your will power. Her eye-line was just in line with the crotch of his jeans. I looked away and began to put books back on the shelf as if I hadn't seen, basically, his erection throbbing away in her face, disguised with one thin layer of denim. I had even seen the outline of his dick — at least, I think I did, but I wonder now if it wasn't my imagination. I could see her lips slowly parting. I almost threw the next book onto the shelf. A huge thump. That should do it. I looked back at the pair of them. Where I imagine his dickhead must have been, the Beast's girlfriend — not Sophie — was slowly sweeping her tongue in circles across the denim. I watched him put a hand on the back of her head and press his groin against her mouth. I glanced across at the older guy. He was still watching, still red-faced. Now he looked at me. A trickle of sweat went coldly down the small of my back. I was expected, as the librarian, to take charge of this situation. Behind me I heard the Wolf croon softly, 'Oh, yes...' I put the last of my books on the shelf, jostled the books about, cleared my throat, waited. I didn't look at them straight away. I had to look at the book browser. His eyes were fixed on the scene continuing over my shoulder. I guessed suddenly that he must have a hard-on himself, and suddenly realised that made three of us, in Dulwich Village Public Library on a hot Friday afternoon. You couldn't get more Wrong, I decided. I had to do something. I turned to the couple, and was just in time to see the Beast, who despite being about my height and age was towering over the kneeling young woman, the massive ledge of his chest jutting over her head like a bookcase overbalancing, this guy who might almost have been at school with me, lived his life in parallel with me and somehow diverged somewhere, unbuttoning his jeans, revealing black pubes flowing out of pale blue boxers. One, two... 'Excuse me, guys,' I said. I had to say it again, the first time it was inaudible, even in the total silence of the library. 'Excuse me, guys.' It sounded fine the first time, but completely stupid the second time. For the first time, the pair of them acknowledged me. The bloke stroked the bristly stubble on his chin. 'Something the matter, chum?' I literally had no idea what to say. I smiled nervously. 'Look,' I said, 'It's not that I don't admire your balls...' I knew as soon as I'd said it that I'd messed up. 'You should admire his balls,' the girl said. 'They're fucking fist-size.' She actually her hands around the solid bulge in his jeans, and I grinned, trying to laugh, thinking: Okay, this has to be a prank, nobody's dick is that size. But a nagging thought at the back of my mind was, 'You've never seen anybody's but yours.' The Beast's face contorted in a grimace. He buttoned his fly with one hand. 'You were watching us?' he grunted. 'You pervy little fucker.' 'If you don't want people to watch you,' I said, 'maybe you should go elsewhere.' 'So you do admit it,' he said. 'I don't believe this.' 'I knew I'd caught him looking,' said the girlfriend. 'Fancy joining in, did you? You should have asked nicely.' She got to her feet and put an arm around his waist, her hand still on the bulge of his erection. 'Plus, I really don't think you're her type?' he said, mockingly. He was looking me over, and little smiles appeared on their faces. 'No wonder you like my bollocks so much. It doesn't actually appear that yours have dropped yet.' 'Honey, don't,' the girl said at this point, almost affectionately. I've clung to those little words all evening, but I don't know if they make me feel more or less pitiful. 'Look, I'm just doing my job,' I said, after a deep breath. He sidled up to me. I can still feel the glow of heat that was coming off his immense body. I've never seen anybody so broad. I don't know why guys do it. It was like talking to a woman with plastic surgery, there was something unnatural about the size of him. I couldn't see how such a huge pair of arms, shoulders and pecs could even fit together to make a human being. His chest was rising and falling and I suddenly got a whiff of danger about the situation. 'Your job?' he growled. 'Surely you can't carry books about a place like this. You couldn't pick up a pencil without straining.' 'Please,' I said, 'I didn't mean to offend you.' 'I don't like being spoken to like that by someone your size,' he said. 'That offends me.' 'I'm sorry,' I said. 'I should have put it better.' 'I don't like to think of my beautiful woman being watched by some little limp-dick like you,' he said. 'That offends me.' I waited to hear what he said next. I didn't know what to do. I looked across the top of the book case at the tall guy, the Wolf. He was looking on, licking his lips, obviously unsure what to say. I thought we'd probably draw a crowd in a minute. I thought perhaps the Beast could get all this out of his system and then recognise it was time to go. He suddenly swung an arm toward me. I cringed away — it was like someone throwing a hammer at your head — but as it turned out, he was only picking up a book from the shelf behind me. He laughed at my reaction. 'Not such a tough guy now?' he said. 'You've begun to realise you're addressing a superior human being. Yes?' He looked at the book title, then dropped it onto the carpet. His eyes widened meaningfully. 'Oh, I thought you were just over here to do your job?' I glanced down at the book, which rested between his feet. 'Put it away, then,' he said. I stooped to pick it up, and the fucking thug actually pulled down a whole shelf-full of books. They tumbled down around my ears. 'Don't know my own strength,' he said with a deep laugh. I settled back on my heels at looked up at him. 'Please stop,' I said. 'Now you're learning some respect,' he said. 'It's good for you to realise. Stronger blokes are the masters of weaker blokes. Bigger blokes rule little guys like you.' I don't know how, but I always thought I was pretty fit. I thought of how I played badminton with Xander once a week, maybe a kick about with the lads in the Park. Now I looked down at myself and realised I was literally half the man this Beast was. Less than that — a quarter the man! It had never meant anything, but now I realised what it meant. It meant me on my knees before the sheer mass of him. 'That's a fact, isn't it?' he said, looking down at me. 'Fucking tell me, because I am pretty close to losing my temper.' He effortlessly swept another shelf of books onto the floor as if they were playing cards. They fell with a noise like a drum roll. I suddenly realised what his strength really meant. 'Please don't hurt me,' I whimpered. 'Please don't hurt me,' he parroted. The girl at his side was looking on hiding a smile. She was flushed, excited. 'Come on,' she said, but I didn't know who she was speaking to. I noticed that her hand was still on his crotch, kneading and massaging away. I thought, Hang on, you can't go on wanking him while he beats me up. But by now I wasn't sure what to think. 'Say,' he ordered me, 'that I am your Master.' He balled his fists and then flexed his arms in a classic display of his musculature. Towering above me, I couldn't see the books, the library ceiling, even the girl's face. All I could see was skin and t-shirt fabric straining to contain massive muscle. Across his chest the words 'URANUS GYMS' distorted like a brand across a bull's flesh. 'You're the Master of me,' I said. 'Tell me what you are.' 'I'm your, umm, subject.' 'My inferior,' he said. 'Look at me.' 'I'm just weak,' I said. 'You could snap me in two.' 'You bet, Olly. Look how strong I am now.' 'I wish I was like you,' I said, 'but I'd always be – smaller. Especially down there.' The words just blurted out my mouth from some secret place of shame. 'Honey,' said a voice. 'You've made your point. I don't think he'll forget this.' She gave his cock one more tug through his jeans, and then she was tugging him away by the forearm, like dragging an oil tanker away. His eyes were laughing now. He was showing me the massive bulk of one, then the other bicep. His brow was wet with perspiration. 'I want you to make me your subject now,' she said. 'I can be a better bitch than — that kid.' I don't know if she meant it but I've been thinking about it all evening. The words were like the closing part of the deal. I bowed my head — and when I looked up, she was gone. Mr Bartholomew was there, looking around him. 'Olly,' he said, frowning. 'I really am at a loss. Do you realise your responsibility to your place of work? To me?' 'I'm sorry, Mr Bartholomew,' I said. 'It wasn't an easy situation.' A gruff voice cut through the air as I began to sort the books back into order. 'Don't blame the lad, mate. He was in an impossible situation. Powerless. That big man was a beast. What can a boy like him do against that?' This was the browser, the voyeur, the Wolf. He saved my life. He may have changed it too. Only a kid. A boy like this. Against a beast. I've never cared much about gyms and stuff. I thought it was about fitness. Health. Now I realise it's about power. It's about being a man and not a boy. I want my muscles to pop when I bend an elbow. I want my shirt to cling to the fat slabs of my chest. I want to be intimidating. A true adult's body. I'm 21 now and it's time to be a man. I'll show that fucking book browser. I'll smash him up. I'll show the girlfriend too, but not by hurting her. By making her want me. I may have a little dick but I'll pick her up and put her on it so she knows she's been fucked. Let her cum, let Sophie cum too. And the Beast. He recognised me, and as soon as he did, I knew him too. We were at school together. We were in the chess club, head to head. He was on course to be Head Boy and a Maths Scholar, then he vanished. That makes him my age — but now? He's a real man, a hard fucker with a body like a steamroller and I'm just crawling at his feet. But starting tomorrow, it's all going to change. What can a boy do? He can get BIG.
  13. 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
  14. LJackson

    Muscle Worshippers: Chapter 1 of 14

    Hey guys, I wrote this novel a couple of years ago and for a while it was on sale at Amazon, Smashwords etc. I've decided to remove it from sale and make it available here in instalments. That doesn't change the fact that it is Copyright Lawrence Jackson 2015. Hope you enjoy it - please give me any kind of feedback you want! Dedicated to the Xhamster user known as 'snuffed' and Tom/Nico/Stephan aka 'Skinnythick' and everyone else who gives a little of themselves online. 1 Stephan Friday, August 1st The plumber said: 'If I'd known this was going to happen, I'd have stopped by the gym this morning.' But he had a nice body, all the better for not being toned. He was in his mid-to-late twenties: his belly and upper body were fleshy — I ran a hand over his left tit, swirling sweat across his fleshly nipple with my thumb — but it was clear enough to me he played footie every Sunday. His hairy thighs, as he braced himself for my pumping first, were muscled like an athlete's. 'You're so fit,' I told him. He smiled and looked shyly down at himself. 'Fuck off.' I finished unzipping his overalls. The heat coming off him was like a radiator. 'I really shouldn't be doing this,' he said, shimmying the overalls to his ankles. 'I'm proposing to my bird next Sunday.' I promised him she wouldn't mind, and began massaging his cock. 'There are some things,' he said, widening his stance so I could go at him more vigorously, 'you just can't speak to your other half about.' 'Tell me about it,' I said, glancing at our apartment's front door. Tom wasn't due back until the evening, later even if it was 'one of those days' at the surgery, so put this one down to a gay man's intuition. 'She talks about getting into bed with another girl,' he said, 'but just to make me cum, and that. She'd pull one of her faces if she could see me now.' He put his hands flat on his hips, and watched as his dick got fully hard in my hand. 'What else does your, eh, fiancé do to make you cum?' He looked at me. 'Getting a bit personal, aren't we?' 'That's my favourite thing to get,' I said. I nibbled his sweaty chest, kissed his hairy belly, licked his dick questioningly. 'She's alright,' he said, pushing my face down onto his dick so that my glasses jolted halfway down my nose. I let them sit there, and got on with the business of deep-throating that intensely warm cock. His whole body was hot from the overalls. I bounced my nose off his crotch, sniffing droplets of sweat from his short and curlies, the saltiness of his pork gliding smoothly to the back of my throat. 'She likes to go on top once in a while. She watches porn with me — well, she did it once when we were in a hotel in Budapest, and she seemed to really get off on it. She really might go to bed with me and another girl, if the circumstances arose. Oh yeah, mate, that is reem.' 'Mmm,' I said, swallowing a gobbet of pre-cum that spoke louder than words. 'And maybe a year down the line, or maybe when the kids are in school at least, when we're really settled,' he said, 'I could maybe buy her a strap-on. Have you seen that online? Pegging, they call it. Stupid bloody name.' I took the cock out of my mouth and kept wanking it, looking up at his expression. 'You got time to do that today?' 'I've got to be in Muswell Hill at three thirty for an estimate on a wet room,' he said, drawing in a thoughtful air through his teeth. 'How long does it take to set up?' 'No time,' I said. 'Turn around.' 'Fucking hell,' he said, following my instruction. 'My lucky day, innit?' He was bent over and spreading his cheeks for me, when I heard a sound outside. Ex-copper's instincts now. That was definitely Tom's car, the way the engine did that thing that I've been nagging at him about getting fixed. I hesitated, then stuck my tongue up the plumber's sweaty plug-hole to play for time. 'Oh fuck, yes,' he said. 'Do you need me to get at a particular angle for you? You're such a tall bastard. Six four, is it?' 'Six eight,' I said, staring at his arsehole, bubbled with my spit. Outside, I heard car doors slam. Three floors up. Tom would walk it, he always did. It took almost exactly five minutes. 'Look,' I said. 'I've just remembered something.' 'Oh yeah,' he said, 'you need lube for a thing like this, don't ya?' 'It's more than that,' I said, getting to my feet. He turned to look at me, worried. 'Well, rubbers, of course. It's been a while, but it's not actually my first time, sunshine.' 'No, something bigger than that.' I saw his eyes widen in excitement. 'One of those big rubber dildo things?' I ran an anxious hand through my curly blonde hair. 'It's my boyfriend.' 'Whatever you say, fellah,' he said, grinning and wanking his cock. 'Extra very well endowed, is he?' 'Funny you should say that,' I said, 'but the important thing is that he doesn't know you're — we're — he's not actually due back till later, but -' 'Oh, shit, say no more,' said the plumber. 'I've been here before, enough times.' He pointed at the floor. 'Hence the zip-up overalls.' I willed myself to remember the order of the Kings and Queens of Britain. My hard-on resisted till I reached the 1920s when I really had to concentrate. By the time I could bear to look back at him, he was fully dressed and writing his number on the back of a card. 'Escort me to your maintenance task,' he said, handing it over. 'You do have one, don't you?' Of course. Fucked if I could remember what it was, though. The key went in the lock. I went cold, looked for my jumper, and the thought leaped out at me. 'The radiator,' I said, as the door opened. 'Excellent,' said the young man, with only a glance toward the new arrival. He had his biro out again already. 'Well, here's my charge for call-out, stripping down, tackling the airlock. Of course, if the problem persists, call me out again at a convenient time and I'll see what else we can do.' My heart was racing. 'Of course,' I said. 'Can you take a card, or -' 'That'll be fine.' I handed over £50, licking my lips with the taste of his fuck-chute till on the tip of my tongue. He smiled that broad smile and I nearly got a tent in my jogging bottoms all over again. 'See you.' 'See ya, mate!' Tom stood in the doorway, watching the plumber leave. 'Well done. I thought neither of us would ever organise that.' 'Time on my hands,' I said, thinking about where my fingers had just been, and wiping unobtrusively them on my jumper. 'Well, yes,' Tom said, frowning. 'I wasn't expecting you to be home...' He tailed off and looked back into the stairwell. 'Look,' he said, to somebody out there, 'this is silly. You'd better come in.' The door creaked open and a young man in jeans and hooded top came in, swinging a camera case. With his bottle glasses, bristling moustache and tightly knotted tie he looked faintly intellectual, but with that dumb look that comes with the heady uncertainty of imminent sex. I smiled at him, to put him at his ease, and he smiled back, perhaps to put me at mine. It was a moment of wild incomprehension and at the same time, perhaps, total understanding. 'You were going to...' I looked back at Tom, who was squatting on the arm of the sofa. In his smart office trousers, his big bazonger was perfectly delineated, and faintly tumescent as well. 'Yes,' he said. 'Dean and I were making conversation at work.' 'Right,' I said. 'We were talking about you,' Tom said. 'I see,' I said. 'And naturally that led to inviting him back for...' 'It did, in fact,' Tom said. 'I was telling him about what you've been getting up to this past year.' Ouch. 'No,' Tom said, seeing my face. 'Don't feel bad. That's what I realised, in my conversation with Dean. That it's good. We should both be doing whatever we want. It'll make us happy.' 'Right,' I said, pulling on my jumper. Tom forced a smile. 'Right,' he said. He looked at Dean. 'Do you want a coffee?' 'Sure,' said Dean. 'Everything okay?' 'I'll get the coffee,' I said, patting him on the shoulder. 'Milk? Sugar?' 'You sure?' Tom looked concerned. 'You two get started,' I said, not quite sure what I was saying, and walking towards the door, turning my head, I saw my boyfriend turning to the stranger and shrugging off his coat. The stranger put down his bag and took off his jacket. I noticed a little staff card in a lanyard round his neck. So the pair of them were both GP's at the same surgery. Trust Tom to meet someone so entirely innocently, after all my debaucheries of the past year. The stuff that's got me thrown out of the police force. The stuff that's wrecked my life. I stood in the doorway, staring at the coffee pot. I could hear them kissing and gasping with the novelty of it. I could hear them undoing a belt. I closed the door, filled the kettle, put it on to boil. I opened the door a crack, spied on the pair of them. I wanted to see the junior doctor's reaction to my boyfriend's huge member. Dean was unzipping his camera bag, while Tom had his hands up inside his starched office suit and was pinching his nipples. Dean took out a huge black camera and turned it on Tom, ordering him to strip. His words vanished behind the hissing of the coffee coming to the boil. I just saw Tom slowly undoing his shirt, dropping his trousers to his ankles. His raging bulge twitched like a black mamba in a sandwich bag. Dean knelt at his feet and carried on snapping. I got my dick out of my trousers and started wanking. The coffee began to hiss and issue steam. Tom took the camera and snapped Dean as he tugged Tom's juicy pink sausage out of his grey, custom-issue y-fronts. Dean played up to it in a practised way, marvelling at the big purple head, the way he could get one hand gripped around it on top of the other. He wanked and sucked on it, spit flying all over the kitchen floor in his enthusiasm. The coffee pot gurgled, and so did I. I pumped my fist faster. Tom and Dean snogged one another, one small dick pressed against a giant, kneaded and ground together. I couldn't help noticing Tom had one eye on the kitchen door. I turned away and served up the coffee, hand trembling. Tom looked excited, slightly drunk — sexy as fuck, of course — but did he look happy? Or just pretending? Whose benefit was this for, exactly? Was I really thinking those things, though, or was I thinking: Fuck, Fuck, Gotta Fuck, Two hot guys getting off in the living room, gotta fuck, gotta Fuck, gotta FUCK FUCK FUCK. (I've come to realise this is the theme song to my days.) I took the coffee in, and the two men broke away. 'Uh, maybe it's not the time for a drink after all, mate,' Dean said, wiping the steam from his glasses lenses. 'Leave it on the table,' Tom said, 'but don't forget to use the coasters.' The doorbell rang. 'I'll get that,' I said, my voice almost lost in my mouth. It was the plumber, of course. 'You alright, big fellah?' he said, looking up at me. 'I got talking to the bloke in specs while he was waiting in the hall. Says he's heard your fella's got a huge dick and loves fucking arse.' I nodded shyly, and welcomed him in. 'Do you want a coffee?' I said. He considered. 'Nah,' he said, rubbing his chin and looking at the couple writhing on the sofa. 'Got that Muswell Hill job, ain't I? Alright, you two lovebirds, who wants to take a straight boy up the arse, and who wants to photograph it?' He was very clear that they shouldn't get a shot of his face, but in the end, of course, the pair of them did: a huge splash. Even the plumber managed to spunk himself on the cheek. I had a wank while they were all three locked together, but for some reason I myself couldn't cum until I was looking at the pictures later on Dean's Tumblr. And I thought about this. Afterwards, over lunch, Tom surprised me: 'I think we ought to have a trial separation.' I laughed. 'That's just what I was going to say,' I said. 'You're driving me round the bend. Making me want new things.' 'Today, all I wanted was you. But I also wanted to fuck everything. I'm not sure I can square it.' He pushed his chair away from the table. 'Maybe it'll be easier if we're both single. We can see more of each other.' He was rubbing his tits through his cum-stained work shirt. 'No. We need to be apart. I'm bad for you. I make you do things you don't want to do.' 'I'll do whatever you want,' he said. He stood up and stood next to me, nuzzling my shoulder with his crotch, where a hard-on was swelling. 'Exactly,' I said. 'I'm not right in the head. I'm addicted. I need to get myself cleaned up, and in the meantime, you need to become you again.' He unzipped and took it out. The dick that had first captivated me when I saw it online. Mr11AndAHalf, Wimbledon. 'I don't want us to get cleaned up,' he said. 'I want us to get completely covered in sweat and cum and piss.' It was still only soft. The temptation was just as massive as his meat-stick. I stood up, stooped, and kissed him lightly on the lips. 'Shush,' I said. 'We both need some time away from sex. I'll go and pack a bag.' 'But where can you go to get away from sex? Who will you be staying with?' he asked me. 'Slutpig93, Musclelad2000 or FatCockStr8Slut?' All of them old friends. Actually, Mum and Dad weren't that surprised to see me. 'You'd gone quiet,' Mum told me, over a cup of tea in the kitchen. 'I knew something was up.' 'I don't exactly get in touch as often as I should anyway!' I confessed. 'This was different,' she said. 'Do you want a biscuit? I've got your favourites.' My favourites are Ginger Crunch Creams, of course. I'd forgotten all about them and suddenly wham, there they are, just when I need them most. I'm eating one now, sitting on my old bed, looking out of my old window. DulwichVillage. Dead centre of normality and peace. Where the net curtains twitch all day, where there are still red telephone boxes and milkmen. The place I waited eighteen years to escape. Well, another eighteen years on and I'm grateful for it. I can take all the peace it can throw at me. Only I had a weird experience at the library, and it rattled me. Mum had some books to take back. Margery Allinghams and Delia Smiths. I needed the walk, as the summer light died on the air and the green leaves rustled overhead. What, I thought, could be more normal, more calming, than the library. Dulwich Village Library has the atmosphere of a chapel. It has the serenity of an attic room. At six o'clock in the evening, when the heat of the day was at its highest, I witnessed an insane couple go to the Self Help section and begin heavy petting. I mean, I've seen some stuff. I've done some stuff. Going public was always a big thrill for me. How can I forget, for instance, walking along the South Bank at one in the morning and getting my knob sucked overlooking the river, a string of coloured lights overhead, and us in the shadow of a tree. Cruise ships slowly passing up the river, playing Ricky fucking Martin, and I'm living La Vida Loca myself with my dick deep down the guy's throat, his headphones round his collar. That's where the queers go, isn't it, that's where we do it: anywhere we like. But I don't think of straight couples doing it, and not in broad daylight for god's sake, and not in a place like DulwichVillage, where Radio 4 is considered slightly common. But there he was, arse like two bowling balls, arms exploding from his t-shirt. Reminiscent, in fact, of a cage fighter who's swallowed a rugby player, and his blonde girlfriend with her legs open for his finger. It was like they'd been specially cast to perform for us. It would have been rude not to look. In any case, I instinctively fell into the role of security guard. When the senior librarian running the library came over on some errand or other, I coughed as low and as loud as I could, in that universal language for 'Put your cock away'. The public pornstar glanced around at me, with an evil sort of smile. Then he knelt down, lifted the girl's skirt, and put his face right in there. The senior librarian actually spluttered when he saw it, and I'm not sure I didn't too. He looked at me, or up at me, of course. I smiled, sweetly. 'They're not with me,' I said, in that special voice we use in libraries. I wanted to hear the noises they were making together. I wanted to see how much further they would take this. I wanted to get my dick out and wank it. Jesus, it was hard. Like I'd starved myself for a week and then someone had just walked in with a big plate of steak. I checked nobody was watching, and slowly began to fuck the books at groin level, nudging my sweaty, precummy, nylon-tracksuit-wrapped cockhead in between the spines of hardback encyclopaedias. Just then I heard a sharp intake of breath, and my head whipped around. It was the junior librarian, a bloke in his twenties. He must have been sent over to sort out the couple in the book stacks, more's the pity. I would have liked the little fellah to have sorted me out first. He was much more my type than the steroid fiend with snake eyes and tight trousers. Textbook clean-cut straight boy: clean fair hair in a trendy yet somehow too-soft quiff. Not unlike Daniel Radcliffe in looks and demeanour. Nicely ironed polo shirt (pretty sure Mum did that for him). Slender and well groomed, a couple of colourful wristbands with charities and festival names printed on them. He'd just taken in for the first time the scene I'd been enjoying , and his eyes were starting out of his head. He'd never seen the like. God, but he licked his lips at the sight, without realising he was doing it, I think. He was so brimful of milky innocence, my heart leapt in my chest. He even gave a little embarrassed smile and looked away, busying himself with a carousel of cheap romances. What is the impulse in us to take that innocence and ruin it irrevocably? I turned my attention back to the boy and girl in their own little world, but my mind was on that librarian. I knew he was watching the scene. I wondered what he was thinking. Was he envying them? Nervous? Had he done something like that? Had he actually been with a girl? It was like when I used to watch straight porn, and I realised I was fantasising about the men who watched it, as much or more so than the guys who were in it. Had he watched porn? Did he like a wank? How did he look when he came? The man and woman were aware of him watching now. They threw him little glances. I looked to see how he was taking it. My dick had dislodged the books permanently now so that they gave me no purchase. I was well hidden by a Romance carousel and some magazine shelving. Keeping everybody very carefully in view, and hoping the police weren't actually on their way (ex-colleagues! fuck!), I reached into my trackie bottoms and put my hand around my dick. I gave it a slow caress. My knobhead was a sticky mess of precum and sweat. I withdrew the hand and, not knowing what else to do with it, reached inside my vest and wiped it across my chest. I felt the print of my hand on my tit like a warm, glowing smear of UV paint. My dick was crying out for some more, but I decided to play it casual. I wanted to see what the librarian did. I actually saw him, thinking himself unobserved, reach into his chinos and rearrange his dick. Hard-on. Bingo. I watched him walk back, hard dick tucked away so that nobody knew it was there but me. All I wanted to do then was put a hand on his chest and say, 'Excuse me, lad, I've got reason to think you're sporting a hard-on in public. Come on, then, let the dog see the rabbit.' I didn't want sex at that point. I wanted to awake something in him. He walked into the scene, as if it wasn't happening. He'd obviously decided on a softly-softly approach. He began slowly putting away the books. He was so near me, I could smell the styling mousse in his hair. My dick asked me to take it in hand again, and this time I obliged. I wanked as slowly as I could force myself, looking back and forth from him to the couple, my hand sliding all the way up to my balls, drawing my foreskin right back from my throbbing, slobbery cockhead, then slowly sheathing it again hiding it in my first, squeezing it with my index finger, as the couple played up further and further to their new spectator, and he pretended more and more that they weren't there. The girl was licking the guy's cock through his jeans, when the boy obviously decided he'd had enough, but before he could confront them, he seemed to look to me for strength. I saw in him then, all the desire he was resisting, all the lust he was forcing down to the pit of his soul. I saw how far he wanted to go with a girl like her, and I thought how much further I could take him. I tried not to register any change in expression as I spunked hard into my fist. As the cum dribbled through my fingers, I watched the most bizarre scene. I can't quite bring myself to put it down on paper now. I wonder — why were they there; how come it was when this lad was on duty, this perfect mirror for their dirty goings-on. When it was all over, I did my bit and defended him to his manager. I mean, a kid like that, against a beast like that, he did what any of us would do. And after it was over, I went to the counter, my heart crashing in my chest, borrowing books that I've already forgotten the names of. 'Are you okay?' I asked him. He looked wounded. He shot me something like a glare. 'I'll be okay.' 'That prick deserves to be picked up,' I told him, 'and I'll tell you from my own extensive experience, it's only a matter of time before it happens.' 'I'd like to be there when it does,' he said. 'You'll need to fill out a form if you want to borrow books today.' My hand shook as I followed his instructions. I could smell the clean, soapy aroma of his body, and dried sweat in his clothes and hair too. 'You're stronger than him in all but the obvious way,' I told him, drinking in his slender, boyish physique. 'Thanks,' he said, and smiled. 'I've always thought that was enough.' 'For most people, it's more than enough,' I said. He let out a long sigh, looked at the form, looked up at me. 'Thanks very much, Stephan,' he said, and extended a hand for me to shake. It fitted into my palm and felt almost weightless. I decided he might be offended by a vigorous pump, so I just squeezed it and smiled, leaving the library without any of the books I had been due to borrow. My heart went out to him like a ray of light. But when it came to it, I let the whole scene play out like I was watching on a screen. Why didn't I step in? I've spent the last fifteen years breaking up fights and calming down tensions. Why didn't I intervene? I think I knew, deep down, that I couldn't involve myself in that, whatever it was. It was too hot, too perfect, for all concerned. It was important for all of us. I've cum three times again tonight thinking about it. And I keep trying to see things from the point of view of Beauty and the Beast and am just left with mystery. What's their game? What were they trying to unlock in that beautiful young man? And did they succeed?
  15. liftme

    Jeff roommate part 5

    I come out of the bathroom and Jeff is laying on the floor. “Jump on” is all he says. I lay on his massive back still naked and he starts doing pushups. Up and down over and over, I lost count at 150 and he is moving with exact precision. Not slowing down, but I find my self slowly sliding down his back and then my cock is wedged between his ass cheeks and Jeff clamps down and my cock is trapped. “Hey now, be nice big guy!” I said to him. Jeff just continues rep after rep, playing with my cock with his ass muscles. He starts to slow down and he stops in the up position and alternate flexing of his ass cheeks until I blow all over his back. He then goes down and relaxes and I climb off while he just laughs. “Let’s see if I can make you cum again.” I stand in front of him while he is kneeling on the floor and he wedges my cock between his bicep and forearms and just starts flexing his mammoth bicep. I can’t move but he just twists his fist making it bounce around and in about 5 mins of this I am hard and ready to cum again. He starts laughing knowing that I am close, one last big squeeze and bang I shoot again. “Oh you think that’s funny do ya?” I tell him to stand up and try the same thing on him by putting his cock between my bicep and forearm and try with all my might to squeeze it. I even grab my wrist with the other hand and try to apply more pressure. “Do you have a good grip on that cock?” I look up at him and he just smiles and flexes his cock and it pulls right out my arm and slaps his abs. To which he just starts laughing and drops to his knees. I jump on this back and try to wrestle him. He rolls over on his back and I get him in a schoolhouse pin. “You’re done now.” I apply all the strength I can summon to his shoulders and I start to count “1…2…” and as I am about to say three his shoulders come off the floor and I am lifted as well. “Not today little man.” He drops his shoulder and grabs me and maneuvers me so that I am laying across his meaty pecs and starts bench pressing me at a very fast pace. “You know that I normally bench almost 10 times your body weight for a normal workout and that means 15-20 reps for 2 to 3 sets?” Jeff just continues to press me and letting me hit his chest with my body but he doesn’t slow down. My cock hitting his pec and of course make me hard again. Jeff feels that and starts rubbing my body across his pecs on the down rep. After about a minute of this I am ready to blow again so he rubs me faster as his reps increase as well and I blow all over his pecs. He laughs and just keeps going. I am guessing about ten minutes of repping me has gone by before he tosses me from his arms onto my bed about 6ft away. Jeff stands up and walks toward me in a domineering nature. “What else you want to try little man, I’m game for anything. You see I’m Hercules and you are an insignificant bug. As I said the first day, I can do anything I want with you and I will if I want. I’m giving you an opportunity here to do whatever you want to take me down. What’s next little man or should I say bug?” The whole time he is saying this, he is smiling and trying his best not to laugh, trying to act like he’s mean, but he’s just messing with me and I know it. I jump onto the bed and bounce up and down a few times until he is closer to me. I launch my body aiming for his chest to hopefully do a body block and get him to step back after I hit him. So I’m sailing through the air, aim is perfect, my body will be hitting him dead on his chest. SMACK!!! I hit but he doesn’t move except to bring his arms up to catch me in a semi-cradle. I am facing the floor and his arms hold me steady, no step back, no movement at all. “Damn it!” I yell as the pain of hitting the wall of muscle goes throughout my body. Jeff, holding me easily, just laughs. “What was that supposed to do?” without waiting for an answer, he positions me in his hands and starts to curl me like I weigh nothing. “You do realize that I normally curl 4 times your body weight so this is so freaking easy. Your little body will be curled for about 10 minutes or until I get bored.” Jeff says laughing at the ease and speed he is curling me. Jeff’s left hand is at my crotch and he starts to fondle my cock with his thumb. I yell at him, “stop that, not again.” Jeff just smiles and curls me a little faster and my cock gets hard again and I can’t stop it. He flicks my cock and balls and I just moan and shoot another load onto his forearm. Its been well over ten minutes almost like 20 and Jeff finally turns me upright and sets me down. It has been a little over an hour and I have cum four times and all he’s done is laugh and lift. Now it’s his turn, I think. So I run at him and stop right before smashing into the mountain, and start sucking on his cock. Using both hands jerking him off at the same time and giving him a good tongue lashing. He gets hard fast and I keep going but the bad part for me is that his cock is getting erect and I can no longer keep it in my mouth, so I keep jerking him with my hands and licking it like a lolipop. I feel his balls churning and jeff starts moaning. I got him now, he blows all over him and I like a fountain. We both start laughing. “Time for a shower,” I comment. I head for the shower but am quickly overtaken by this mountain of muscle that just scoops me up and we go into the shower together. Jeff gives me the soap and tells me to lather myself up, which I do. Jeff then lifts me and starts rubbing my soapy body all over his, I’m his washclothe. He is moving me all over his body. After he feels he is clean, he puts me down and we both rinse and dry off. Jeff and I decide that its time for dinner and maybe find a party somewhere. So out for pizza we go. Everyone is looking at him and amazed by his huge body. Some of the girls ask if he minds if they feel his muscles to which he doesn’t hesitate. They are all goggling over him. We have had our fill of the girls and food and head to a local college bar. After an ID check and a few strong drinks, couple of shots, we are feeling great. Jeff heads to the dance floor and all the women flock to Jeff, who just plays along. I sit at the bar and watch not noticing two young guys coming up behind me. They start to put their hands on my shoulders and play with my hair. I try to push them away but they continue to make advances toward me. I look toward Jeff and he sees what is happening and starts heading toward me. I watch Jeff and see his hackles are up and his muscles are tensing as he gets closer. I sit there and get ready for a show. The two guys are standing beside me and I look at their feet as Jeff arrives but says nothing. I feel them quickly let go of me as their feet leave the ground. I turn around and Jeff is holding one in each hand by the scruff of their shirts. They are wiggling trying to get free of Jeff’s grasp but can’t. After lifting them so he can whisper in their ears, Jeff says, “You two really should learn to keep your hands to yourself and when someone says no, they mean no. Now two things can happen here, one I can set you back on the ground and you can leave the bar quietly, or, two, I can slam you heads together and knock you out, carry you outside and find a dumpster to throw you in till morning. What is your choice?” The two boys still struggling to get down, subside and reply, “We’ll leave, please put us down.” Jeff holds them a bit longer to emphasize their predicament, then turns toward the door and slowly lowers them to the ground. With a slight shove pushes them towards the door. Jeff turns back to me to make sure I am ok. “You know I won’t let anyone hurt you or make advances that you don’t want to happen, right?” Jeff asks. I look up at him and just smile and say thanks. Jeff and I decide we’ve had enough fun for one night, order two more shots and head out of the bar. What we didn’t notice is that the two guys that left the bar called some of their friends and were waiting for us to leave. We are about two blocks from the bar and we both get jumped, well let me clarify this. One guy bearhugs me and pull me away from Jeff and three others jump on Jeff at the same time. As usual Jeff just stands there as they punch him and try to take him down. Just like a dog shaking water off his coat, Jeff shakes and the three guys just fly off in different directions. Jeff turns to me and stares at the guy holding me, he slowly lets go and steps away. The three other guys have gotten up and come at Jeff again. One lands on his back and is able to wrap his one arm over his shoulder and the other arm, up under Jeff’s arm and has a good grip. The other two, same two, that were in the bar, weren’t so lucky. As they ran toward Jeff, Jeff just reaches out with lightening fastness and grabs the front of their shirts and just slowly lifts them off the ground. “You two like being in the air, huh?” Jeff ask, holding them at arms length. “Well I guess you decided for option number two.” Jeff brings his arms together, smacking their heads together and they are out cold. Jeff drops them and reaches over his head and grabs the guy on his back and lifts him up and off him like he was removing his shirt. He holds the guy in front of him and says, “Good night.” With just a nod of his head, he head-butts the dude and he is out cold too. Jeff scoops up the other two, now holding three guys in his arms, looks at the fourth dude and says, “come with me.” Jeff walks through one of the side streets to a dumpster and tosses the three into it. With a flick of his wrist he closes the metal lid. Jeff grabs the lid and front of the dumpster and squeezes it tight so that it can’t be opened without a crowbar. Jeff looks over at the last guy that is standing beside me. “You grabbed my friend here in a bear hug and I don’t like people that try to hurt my friends.” Jeff stepped in front of the small dude and squats down, wraps his mammoth arms around this dude that wasn’t much bigger than me, then stands up. “Because you listened to me and didn’t hurt my friend, I’m not putting you in the dumpster, but you need to be taught a lesson.” With that Jeff starts to slowly contract his arm muscles like a giant anaconda. Jeff whispers in the dude’s ear, “night night.” As his arms tighten the dude passes out and Jeff takes him to the edge of the dumpster and fastens the back of his pants to the post that sticks out of the side of the dumpster and leaves the dude hanging there. Jeff comes over and scoops me into a cradle and heads for our dorm room.
  16. Hialmar

    Professor Schnackenburg's mistake

    I dedicate this story to GiganticBeast, who asked for something similar to this: Professor Schnackenburg's mistake Chapter One He remember how Ms. Giraud had presented him to his former tutor, Assistant Professor Smith, in the past: "Mr. Schnackenburg – B.A., archaeology student and expert in the occult." They had both watched one of the Indiana Jones films recently, and Josephine ... Ms. Giraud ... already had a sense of humour he had found himself appreciating. Ms. Giraud! Jet black hair, intelligent gaze, great sense of humour. In Schnackenburg's opinion, she had thrown away her excellent talent for archaeology, when she settled for a purely administrative post at the Department for Archaeology. On the basis of the quality of her Masters thesis, she could have been one of the great names in the field, if she had published a PhD thesis. Nor could he understand her preferences, when it came to men. She had never married, and none of her affairs seemed to last or lead to anything enduring, but Schnackenburg had been invited to uncomfortable dinners with her so many times, encountering a string of her several boyfriends: A marine, a builder, a policeman, a sailor. Even a professional bodybuilder once. Not the typical consort to bring to formal university dinners. What was Josephine supposed to speak about with any latest fling? Not strontium analysis of fossil teeth, that's for sure. Hell! Some of these men had upper arms as wide as his legs! It was good for his career, that he had generally hid his personal interest in the occult: It wouldn't have been good for his reputation, if his membership in The Order of the Rosary Cube and Calix Gradalis had been publicly known. Who would trust the scientific rigour of someone, who spent hours in weird meditations? Though the meditation practices had been useful in order to reach heightened awareness, his scholarly sense of critical evaluation had always kept him suspicious of the baseless legends about sunken continents. We now know about plate tectonics: There is no place in real pre-history for sunken continents like Atlantis, or Lemuria in the Indian Ocean, or Mu in the Pacific. After his PhD, he had specialised in two fields: Mesolithic Europe and deciphering unknown scripts, and he now read Linear A, Indus Valley script and Easter Island script fluently. He had never thought, that these two fields would ever converge. The Doggerbank excavation changed all that. Even if he didn't dive himself, he was responsible for the entire project, and he gave the divers – some of them his postgraduate students – careful instructions how to avoid any damage to the finds. When Brock McGurgan, a good-looking blond Canadian student of his, returned to the surface with the tablets and the bronze sword, Schnackenburg understood, that something sensational was going on. It had now been three years since the Doggerbank excavation. He could still remember the scent of the salt sea and seaweed, and he could remember how the hair on his forearms turned into goosebumps when he saw the greenish-gold hints of bronze. He could still remember the sight of the broad-shouldered MacGurgan taking the diving suit off. Doggerland had been a lowland island (but not a continent) that actually was flooded and drowned in the North Sea between Scotland and Norway during the Stone Age, leaving Dogger Bank under the sea level. The hunter-gatherers of Doggerland were not expected to have known farming or metalwork, nor to have any script or alphabet. A bronze sword and stone tablets written with some sort of text turned all expectations on their head. It had now been three years. MacGurgan had assisted him in cleaning the stone tablets, and the lad felt like a son to him. Schnackenburg looked forward to read MacGurgan's PhD, which was soon expected to reach completion: Bronze technology in Doggerland Culture: A revaluation of the Atlantic period. MacGurgan's enthusiasm and cheerfulness lightened up hard work on pollen analysis or dendrochronology. Outside campus, Schnackenburg had once seen another side of MacGurgan, which was hard to reconcile with Schnackenburg's general impression of his student: A drunkard had knocked over MacGurgan's beer by mistake, and the student had over-reacted and beaten the culprit several times. It felt like a block of ice in his gut, when Schnackenburg recollected the image of MacGurgan's undoubtly handsome face disfigured in a grimace of unbridled wrath, his ice blue eyes burning. It was like he didn't know the promising young man he thought he knew so well. Schnackenburg dismissed the memory, and turned his recollection to the hard work and great assistance of MacGurgan in the work on the Doggerland Tablets, as they were now known. Schnackenburg had spent hours upon hours with the tablets. No key to the code. No Rosetta stone. Sometimes, in late hours after worktime it had felt like the tablets spoke to him with ghostlike hollow voices: Howlings of forgotten wraiths and souls adoring long-forgotten unnameable gods. He had checked the results again and again, and forwarded the PDF to MacGurgan, who anyhow wouldn't understand the real-life implication of the translation. Double checked. Triple checked. Was it really possible? Was it decipherable? Could it really mean, what he thought that it meant? "Archaeology professor and expert in the occult". His profession and his hidden hobby merged. The silence of the night hours turned into the sound of his pulse in his ears. Hissing. Throbbing. The city outside the window, lit windows in high rise buildings. Strewn with stars. The weight of millennia resting on his shoulders. Still some scent of seaweed, which didn't seem to go away from the tablets. * * * Brock MacGurgan worked late. He had a deadline on his PhD, and his assistance concerning the Doggerland Tablets took up a lot of his thoughts. Wouldn't it be amazing if Professor Schnackenburg really broke the code of the tablets? What if they were close to the solution? And the sword... There was something with the sword, that spoke to MacGurgan on a deep level. Heroes. Fights. Combat. Victory. Old myths of stormgods battling reptilian elder gods. Old myths of solar heroes protecting mankind. The sort of texts one would expect to find in ancient civilisations. He had seen the Professor staring at the tablets so many times, enchanted by the impossible finds. Similar to the way he himself became more and more deeply enchanted by the sword. Fights. Heroes. With hands covered in gloves, he had taken the sword out of its glass showcase. It now laid unprotected on his writing desk. Bronze sword. Fights. Heroes. Sword of Anghra-Lemur. Wait? Where did that word come from? He wasn't the poetical type of person who invented things, even if he had been an avid reader of sword-and-sorcery novels as a teenager, and watched the children's programme He-Man in primary school. ...Sword of Anghra-Lemur... Stop hallucinating. Stop imagining things. Probably best to stop working late. He needed some coffee. A ping in his computer. Better check it later. After the coffee. Brock MacGurgan took his baseball jacket and walked in the direction of the espresso machine. * * * Schnackenburg trembled. The translation must have turned his rational faculties into a mess. It couldn't be possible. But if it was? His instincts as a trained occultist screamed at him. To avoid the unhallowed relics of unnameable powers. To run. To put the tablets and the sword under lock and key. Or to use it. Use it to prove himself to Ms. Giraud... Josephine. The powers of sunken Doggerland... The powers of Anghra-Lemur! The powers of Kortoth-Gnaah, war god of Anghra-Lemur! When he reached the glass showcase he stared in disbelief. Empty? But the only two having access to the sword were himself and MacGurgan? Frowning, he walked in the direction of MacGurgan's study. A bookshelf with standard works in archaeology. The Bell Beaker Phenomenon. Renfrew. Mallory. Svante Pääbo. Souvenirs from diving expeditions hang on the wall, beside a diploma from a Junior Men's Physique competition. A single task light was lit over the writing desk. The stump of a cigar was lying in an ashtray. MacGurgan's computer was working. The sword was there, but not MacGurgan. Schnackenburg felt as in a fever dream. He picked up the sword, and walked up the spiral stairs. * * * He really needed that espresso. MacGurgan returned to his study. He had to check that e-mail. He opened it. A PDF. A breakthrough. A hypothetical translation: He froze in his position. His blond hair tingled as of fear. He swallowed. He had imagined the word Anghra-Lemur before the e-mail arrived. An atmosphere of unreality lowered itself. Unconsciously and involuntarily he continued: The translation went on and on. The ancient Doggerlendings must have been a warrior culture, similar to the ancient Irish, the ancient Welsh and the Vikings. And they called their island or islands Anghra-Lemur. And the sword... MacGurgan looked for the sword. The sword was gone! MacGurgan had to calm down. What would he do? What would Professor Schnackenburg say? What would happen to his career? He had left the sword unsupervised. And it was gone! He lit a cigar to calm his nerves. No ancient item that could be harmed by the smoke anyhow. He tried to relax, and sat with his faded blue denim jeans in a wide manspread, his trainers resting on the floor. Deep breath. Some cigar smoke. Some espresso. The doors were locked. No one could enter. It was then he heard it. The impossible chanting sound from the spiral staircase leading to the tower room used for honorary social occasions. What in hell was going on? MacGurgan's worry began to turn into irritation. An intruder? Here? His archeological find? He rose from the chair. All his 6 feet 1 inches. He was still wearing his baseball jacket. Some nutcase had to be disarmed and handed over to the police. And Brock MacGurgan was just the right person to do it. * * * The dome gave the tower room a certain atmosphere, and the starry wisdom of the night sky looked down through the circular glass window over his head, but Schnackenburg was deeply in trance while he recited the more than 7000 year old enchantment, invoking preternatural forces which had been left slumbering for millennia. The scent of incense and the flickering light of the wax candles created a mood very far from the sherry imbibing receptions usually held in the tower room. Flickering light. Whisps of incense smoke. Shadows and starlight weavering into something unsettling and unspeakable. "Ye powers of blood and fang! Ye powers of brawn and brutality! Ye nameless ancestors of ancestor-warriors! Ye swordsmen who do not shun the name 'barbarian'! Servants of Kortoth-Gnaah, open ye the gates for the bloodstained war god of Anghra-Lemur, prepare the chosen vessel for divine power, let the ancient powers bestow their gift of prowess and might, as it was foretold! May the sinking of Anghra-Lemur be undone! May the white cliffs of Anghra-Lemur rise over the northen waves! May the last remnant of Atlantis return! May the last remnant of Lemuria the Ancient rise! May the unnameable powers assist me! I invoke Dagon!" One part of Schnackenburg was fully immersed in the powerful invocation. Something happened. The shadows in the room were more dense now. He could sense invisible eyes watching him. The stars shone intensely through the tower window, but not the stars of our time, but the bright night sky of an bygone, lost and forgotten age, far exceeding the 7000 years, that had gone since the sea level rose over Doggerland. Over Anghra-Lemur. Another part of Schnackenburg was silently screaming to him to stop. The dangers, if the invocation really worked, were unforeseeable, and only an insane man would try the attempt to force the elder powers. The cadences of primordial hymns and invocations of another aeon drowned any silent protest in his soul. Primordial hymns reaching out to creatures unknown to modern man. The third part of Schnackenburg's mind was ecstatically excited: He should prove himself to Josephine! He would intimidate any potential boyfriend she may have going for the moment. he would far, far exceed the prowess he secretly admired in young MacGurgan. He would become something beyond human limitations! He would... His pulse murmured and throbbed in his head. Something else throbbed inside his trousers. Arcane power began to tingle in his palms, as he stretched out his hands over the bronze sword on the table before him. Power streaming into the blade, renewing it, empowering it. * * * MacGurgan couldn't believe his eyes. Professor Schnackenburg performed some sort of occult ritual in the tower room, and there was an eerie feeling spreading, more and more intensely. The cigar dangled in his mouth. The baseball jacket couldn't hide his fit – but not extravagantly big – chest. The rubber soles of his trainers caused a squeaking sound on the highly polished marble floor. He braced himself to do something, but the murmuring and droning sound of the witches' rune lullied himself into a trance-like state, and the translation, that had burned into his mind when he had read it on the computer screen, rose from the depths of his memory, as the forgotten creatures of Anghra-Lemur were rising from the maritime depths and the dark abyss of time. Soon, he and Schnackenburg were chanting in unison, and there was nothing MacGurgan could do to stop it. "I invoke Cthulhu! Intervene in dread! I invoke Shub-Niggurath, the goat with the thousand young! Spread the air of revel and ecstacy! I invoke Yog-Sothoth, who is the Key and is the Gate! Open the gulfs of time and space! Cause the powers of ancient Anghra-Lemur to return! May, on the chosen vessel, the powers descend: The powers of Kortoth-Gnaah, war god of Anghra-Lemur!" MacGurgan was out of his mind now. He had a big lump in his throat. He felt very cold and very hot. His pulse was rising. Earlier in the evening he had been absorbed in wordless reverie over the Doggerland sword. It has spoken to him. It had allured to him. Beckoned to him. The sword of Kortoth-Gnaah. Schackenburg was unaware of MacGurgan's presence. "Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah!" Schnackenburg was close to the brink of it now. The men of Anghra-Lemur would walk the earth again, and he would be the one who bestowed it to them: The ancient power of the war god. He couldn't imagine how it would feel, how... "Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah!" ... how the power of supernaturally endowed stone age warriors would course in his veins, how... "Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah!" The next moment, McGurgan snapped the sword away from the table, outside his tutor's physical reach. MacGurgan swallowed. When he came into physical contact with the cold and heavy bronze he could feel a tingling feeling spreading from it into his body. The hair on his head and arms bristled intensely. His eyes widened. He couldn't believe it! He couldn't... "Kortoth-Gnaah! KORTOTH-GNAAH! KORTOTH-GNAAH!" He bellowed the name of the war god, eagerly lifted his sword above his head, and the next second the power of the ancient gods streamed into him. Immaterial thunder bolts rushed through the window in the ceiling. Engulfed him. Absorbed him and formed him anew. Transmuted him. * * * Schnackenburg had been too immersed in the chanting, to react in time to MacGurgans unforeseen action. Staring in disbelief, he could see MacGurgan surrounded by supernatural power beyond imagination, and a cold feeling of fear paralysed Schnackenburg, when he realised, that the chosen vessel was someone else. Remorse, envy and admiration competed within himself when he watched his favourite student become something more than human. Exhausted and destitute of any remaining mental strength, he fell to the floor. * * * MacGurgan couldn't believe it, but the being wasn't entirely Brock MacGurgan any longer, even if they still shared some memories and personality traits. His quads and hamstrings were filled by power from the forgotten Gulf of N'kai. Strength of thousand war gods, thousand thunder gods and thousand solar heroes was poured into his brawn, as if he had been a vessel, and this eager and willing vessel received the blessings, moaning and grunting as his brawn engorged all over his body: Veins spread, his biceps and triceps underwent undreamed hypertrophy, his trapezius deserved the description godlike, and he still expanded in every direction, now far exceeding the height of 6 feet 7 inches. He roared. He bellowed. He demonstrated his superiority to the mere human being who once had been his tutor. He watched the feeble creature: It wasn't worthy to worship him. He became immersed in visions of bygone Anghra-Lemur: Powerful men clad in hides strode over lowland plains proving their valour to each other in combat, and brutal hunters wrestled sabre-toothed cats and mammoths with their bare hands. Some of the same men were bestowed the strength of the gods, by the means once known in Lemuria and Atlantis. The power still accumulated within him. Filling him. Empowering him. Fire-mist descended. Fire-mist enveloped him. Fire-mist penetrated, filled and charged him. He became fire-mist. The immaterial flames of the elder gods reached into his soul, crushed his childhood memories into fragments, but out of the fragments and out of the collective memory of Doggerland, it formed something anew: No subcutaneous fat remained. His now bulging presence was cut and defined beyond imagination. Straps of leather materialised over his shoulders, and formed an X over his V-shaped torso. A leather jockstrap and some furs covering his glutes materialised out of thin air, and he realised that he was wearing pre-historical boots. A belt around his narrow waist carried a bronze buckle with the ancient seal of Kortoth-Gnaah. The thunderbolts increased in intensity. Physical heftiness filled him and became him. In the forge of the divine armourer aggression, dominance and lust melted into one, and he could feel his dick throb inside his leather jockstrap. The god of the barbarians walked the earth anew. The power was his. The might and the force. Brawn beyond comprehension. Mindless orgasmic bliss enrapt him when he felt his physical prowess, and he didn't know for how long he had been entranced. When he returned to any awareness of his surroundings, he watched the mortal on the floor. With a smirk, he performed a double biceps, watching the mortal on the floor. It moaned, spasmed, and a wet stain formed on its leg-clothes. Someone else entered the tower room. The dark silhouette of a woman against the light from the hallway. The mortal looked in her direction. "Josephine? What are you doing here?" "I was returning some files, when I heard thunder from the tower. I..." The female mortal fell silent. The vessel of Kortoth-Gnaah watched her in silence. Then he flexed his biceps again, thrust his hips in a suggestive way, and a current of power crossed the room, connecting the groin of the being and the groin of the female. She moaned loudly, and fell to the floor with a smile, unaware of her surroundings. The being didn't deign to behold any of the mortals, and left the town room. It was on a mission. It would let Anghra-Lemur rise again, and some selected few in this monstrous city of concrete, steel and glass were going to be transformed into warriors of the elder days. When it roamed the streets, it could absent-mindedly hear shouts in panic and rushing steps disappearing. It could hear transport vessels crash into each other, but it was of no concern. It needed the raw material suitable to become warriors of Anghra-Lemur. It found a night-open gym and a leather bar on the same street. It had found its raw material. Soon, the power of Kortoth-Gnaah would enrapt and transform them into suitable servants of Kortoth-Gnaah, war god Anghra-Lemur. The present world was doomed. The elder days would reappear in frenzy, mindless violence and voluptious pleasure. You will find Chapter Two here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13095-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-two/
  17. dredlifter

    The Giant Football Coach - Chapter 6

    Previously: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12573-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-1-2/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12587-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-3/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12662-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-4/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12823-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-5/ Sorry for the slow continuation, summer is a busy time! Chapter 6: The Press The next morning my buddies and I gathered with interest around our computers to watch Coach's first press conference since he grew to gigantic proportions. Normally these pre-game press conferences were fairly bland. Lot's of boring discussion full of coach-speak on how we will stop our opponent's offense and break through their defense, along with updates on the health of the players. However, obviously today would be very different. The live stream cut in and loud buzz could be heard. Obviously there were far more reporters there than usual as word had leaked out that something extraordinary had happened to our captain. Instead of taking place in the media room in the athletic offices, in which Coach would obviously not fit, the feed kicked on showing the field house. In the background I could make out Coach's living corner, complete with crude, gigantic wooden benches and a bunch of mattresses spread out on the ground. After a couple of minutes the Dean walked up to the podium and began speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us. As many of you know, there was an accident on campus earlier this week in the physic lab. Thankfully there were no major injuries but one of our staff was affected by the incident. As I'm sure many of you heard that person was our beloved Coach Wood. I can assure everyone that Mr. Wood is in fine condition...” the Dean paused before continuing “...in fact, he may be in better condition than anyone. Before we bring him in to speak with you I have invited the head of the physics department, Dr. Phillip Martin, to explain the situation in more detail. Dr. Martin if you would.” Dr. Martin made his way up to the podium and explained what happened to the best of his knowledge. He started off explaining how a crossed electrical wire sparked a small fire and an explosion. He continued explaining, “...during the small explosion which severely damaged much of our equipment, our prototype ionic photon accelerator beam escaped containment. The beam itself is invisible to the naked eye and so Mr. Wood unknowingly stumbled into the path of the beam as he was rushing to our aid after the explosion. I witnessed Mr. Wood fall to the floor unconsciously as soon as he cross into the beam. Thankfully we were able to shutdown the beam immediately and administer to Mr. Wood. He regained consciousness very quickly and seemed to be fine. As you all know he was taken to the hospital as a precaution. Several reporters' hands flew up and they began to shout questions. “What were the effects of the energy beam?” “Is Mr. Wood going to be able to coach the team on Saturday?” “Is there any danger to any of the players?” Dr. Martin raised his arms to indicate he was requesting silence. Once the room had settled enough Dr. Martin spoke again, “The Dean has only brought me here to discuss the accident. I will answer your questions as best as I can. As far as I can tell there is no imminent danger to Mr. Wood or his players. The effects of the energy beam were...extraordinary. We would have surmised that the the energy beam contacting most humans would have been fatal, yet it seems Mr. Woods' body was able to absorb the energy and convert it into normal human tissues. I surmise it was because of Coach Woods' exemplary physical development and strength that he was able to not only withstand the bombardment of energy particles but be able to make use that energy.” Once again the crowd of reporters erupted raising their hands and shouting out questions. “How was Mr. Wood able to use the energy?” “Is the physical threat to Mr. Wood over?” “Please, Mr. Martin, we have reports that Mr. Wood has grown to double his size. Is that true?” Dr. Martin looked over at the Dean who then nodded back to him. “Well, ladies and gentlemen perhaps its best if we allow you to speak with Coach Wood directly. Dr. Martin turned around and looked back toward the garage door at the end of the field house. A roaring silence emanated from the anxious crowd as the camera panned the side to frame the 40 ft. garage door. And then it happened. A titanic figured appeared behind the door, almost as wide as the opening itself and obviously taller. Coach ducked slightly down, his handsome grinning face blessing the crowd of reporter ahead and far, far below him. Gasps and whispers erupted from those in attendance. Coached ducked, stepped through the down and rose up to his full, proud 50 ft. height. He was wearing a huge blue tank top, obviously the theatre costume department had been able to whip something together for him. Even so, there has no hiding his overdeveloped musculature. Technically, the tank would pass as a shirt, but his pecs were so wide his nipples extended past the fabric and were exposed. About the only thing the giant loose tank hid were his rock hard abs. It reminded me of one of those stringer tanks you sometimes see the pro-bodybuilders wearing. And truthfully that's what our football coach looked like: A colossal, off-season, un-shaven professional bodybuilder. His shorts, socks, shoes, baseball cap and whistle still were holding strong, having grown with him. I suspected he wanted to keep these items on as much as he could in case he grew again. Coach continued to smirk down at the awestruck crowd as he slowly sauntered forward. Even on camera I noticed a handful the reporters get up and walk away and he walked toward them, obviously fearing the brutish giant. Coach reached the podium and stood there, letting the crowd and the world take him in, knowing his masculine superiority could never be more evident. Eventually he spoke. “I WOULD CROUCH DOWN AND USE THE MICROPHONE BUT I'M SURE YOU CAN ALL HERE ME JUST FINE WITH MY BOOMING VOICE.” He joked, but could still sense the tension in among the crowd. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, LET ME ASSURE YOU THAT YOU HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR. I KNOW I WILL HAVE TO BE CAREFUL AT TIMES BUT I HAVE NO INTENTION OF HURTING ANYBODY. I'M STILL THE SAME 'OLE BALL COACH YOU HAVE INTERVIEWED BEFORE, I'M JUST BIGGER,” Coach chuckled and quickly brought up his naked arms into a quick biceps pose. “I DO APOLOGIZE FOR BEING A BIG UNDER DRESSED. IT'S A GOOD THING I'VE GOT NOTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF, BECAUSE AS YOU CAN GUESS CLOTHING HAS BECOME A PROBLEM.” Coach grinned down at crowed again, “NOT TO SOUND ARROGANT BUT I DON'T THINK ANYBODY WILL HAVE A PROBLEM WITH ME SHOWING SOME SKIN EITHER, HEH HEH.” He then crouched down gave the crowd a quick crab pose, all this muscles exploding in sinewy vascularity. He relaxed the pose, smiled warmly and spoke, "WELL DON'T BE SHY, THIS IS A PRESS CONFERENCE. FEEL FREE TO ASK QUESTIONS." Finally the crowd began to relax and began to engage him. “Are you still growing?” one reporter asked. Coach glanced down at Dr. Martin and shrugged his massive shoulders. Dr. Martin stepped up to the podium right in front of the coach. The camera zoomed in to Dr. Martin as he spoke who was completely dwarfed by two muscular calf muscles flanking him on each side. “I'm strictly working off of conjecture here, but I believe the beam that struck Mr. Wood altered his physiology to be able to absorb energy from outside sources rather than simply ingesting sustenance, or eating and drinking. I believe Coach Wood's growth has been contingent on the amount of energy his body has absorbed. He grown twice now, first to approximately 25 ft and now to nearly 50 ft.” Gasps again erupted from the crowd as they learned Coach's staggering height. The doc continued, “Coach grew during the end of his football practices. From what I understand he was shirtless both times. Since it was been especially hot this week, I believe Coach Wood's body was able to absorb energy from the sun's rays. When he exercised via push-ups at the end of the practice after soaking in the sun's energy, that extra internal effort was the catalyst for the energy to be transformed into bodily mass, thus causing him to grow.” “But is Mr. Wood still growing!!” one of the reporters jumped up and repeated. “The good new is that every time Mr. Wood grows he will then require more energy for that growth to manifest itself again. Based on the square-cube law and my calculations, Coach Wood has grown so much that he would have to lay outside and bathe in the sun for four to six days straight to absorb enough energy to grow again.” A relieved sigh could be heard from the collective crowd. The camera had zoomed out again to capture most of the coach in view, and he clearly smirked when the crowd learned it was unlikely he would get bigger. “It would take a tremendous amount of energy for Mr. Wood to grow again. He will continue to absorb energy from the sun and various microwaves that permeate our existence but are invisible to the naked eye, but the majority of that energy he will expel through normal activity.” Coach then looked down and added, “ALTHOUGH, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, DR. MARTIN AND I BELIEVE SOME OF THAT ENERGY IS STILL BEING TRANSFORMED INTO BODILY MASS. I KNOW MY BODY VERY WELL AND I CAN TELL THAT I AM SLIGHTLY MORE MUSCULAR SINCE I'VE STARTED GROWING.” To demonstrate, Coach looked down at his legs, pointed his feet outward and FLEXED his quads, filling his shorts to the bursting point with giant, dense leg muscle. “THESE SHORTS WERE SLIGHTLY LOOSE A COUPLE OF DAYS AGO, AND NOW MY LEG MUSCLES ARE ABOUT TO TEAR THEM OFF. LOOK AT THE SIZE OF MY LEG MUSCLES!” Coach cockily grinned and scanned the awestruck crowd who were staring at his freaky legs causing the shorts fabric to be taught, which had the double effect of accentuating his bulge. The female reporters swooned and the men had never felt so insignificant and out-manned in their lives. Coach then stood back up to his full height and brought one arm up into a triumphant single biceps pose. He smiled at the enormous ball of muscle peaking toward the ceiling. “I KNOW MY BICEPS WERE ALREADY MASSIVE, EVEN WHEN I WAS A SHORT GUY AT JUST 6 FT 6, BUT I CAN TELL MY ARMS ARE JUST SLIGHTLY BIGGER, MORE DEFINED AND HARDER!” Coach reached his opposite hand up and proudly rubbed the inhuman ball of muscle, grinning happily the whole time. “Where did you find clothes to fit your giant frame, Mr. Wood!?” another male reporter shouted up to him from far below. Coach relaxed his pose and made eye contact with the reporter. “WE'VE DISCOVERED THAT MY CLOTHES ONLY GROW WITH ME WHEN I'M WEARING THEM, SO I SHOULD PROBABLY STOP FLEXING MY MASSIVE THIGHS TO KEEP THESE SHORTS INTACT AS LONG AS POSSIBLE. I ALREADY LOST MY SHIRT, BUT THE THEATRE DEPARTMENT HAS STEPPED UP AND CREATED THIS TINY TANK TOP FOR ME. WE SINCERELY APPRECIATE THEIR EFFORTS IN HELPING KEEP ME CLOTHED." Dr. Martin spoke into the microphone once again. “We aren't completely sure the mechanisms for why the Coach's clothes grew with him. Perhaps the close proximity or even his sweat permeating his clothes is what allowed them to grow as well. Frankly, this is completely uncharted territory and we are very much learning as we go. Thankfully Coach Wood has been very cooperative in letting us monitor him.” “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I KNOW WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME IS SPECTACULAR, BUT LET'S TRY TO REMEMBER THERE IS A FOOTBALL GAME ON SATURDAY,” he spoke, now trying to steer the conversation toward the team. It was a valiant effort, but I suspected it wouldn't last long. A few the area sports reporters were able to refocus and began asking the normal questions on the health of the team. Such as which players to watch for, who's injured, etc. I was thrilled when he mentioned me, “I THINK EVERYONE IS GOING TO BE SURPRISED BY MASON JACKSON, A FRESHMEN CORNERBACK. I THINK HE'S GOING TO BE VERY SPECIAL IN THE YEARS TO COME, POTENTIALLY EVEN AND NFL PLAYER.” I was floored when he said this, did I really have that much potential? Soon another reporter asked, “Mr. Wood, will you be coaching from the sideline this weekend?” “OF COURSE I WILL, WHY WOULDN'T I?” The little reporter seems to shirk in fear at seemingly being rebuked. He added, “Well, Sir, I was just wondering if you still even fit in the coach's box on the side of the field and I-” He stammered before smiled and cut him off. “OH YES I SEE. YES, LITTLE MAN, I WILL BE ABLE TO FIT IN THE COACH'S BOX. ALSO, WE HAVE VERIFIED WITH THE NCAA THAT I WILL NOT BE BREAKING ANY RULES BY BEING SO...MASSIVE. IN FACT IT WILL BE A BIT OF HINDRANCE FOR OUR TEAM. MY VOICE IS SO LOUD AND BOOMING IT WILL BE DIFFICULT TO COMMUNICATE WITHOUT ALLOWING THE OPPOSING COACHES TO HEAR. THANKFULLY, WE DO USE MANY HAND SIGNALS. BUT, OUR AUDIO DEPARTMENT IS ALSO WORKING ON A MICROPHONE THAT I CAN WEAR AND WHISPER INTO.” Coach then looked right at the tiny camera at the back of the room and addressed the team's fans. “I'M ASKING OUR FANS TO BE LOUDER THAN EVER TO HELP MASK MY CONVERSATIONS WITH MY FELLOW COACHES AND PLAYERS! HELP US OUT, BRUTE NATION!” Coach punctuated this statement with a colossal most-muscular pose, filling the frame of the camera shot with huge manly muscle. “I DO FEEL SORRY FOR THE FANS WHO HAVE SEATS BEING ME. MY ENORMOUSLY WIDE BACK MUSCLES ARE PROBABLY GOING TO BLOCK MUCH OF THE VIEW OF THE FIELD. I WILL TRY TO STAND IN DIFFERENT LOCATIONS DURING THE GAME IN AN EFFORT TO ALLOW EVERYONE BEING TO SEE AS MUCH OF THE GAME AS THEY CAN.” Of course this action once again steered the questions toward Coach's development. Another reporter, whom I instantly recognized as the weaselly man from the Channel 11 news, the one who had been bothering me and my teammates, Chet Howard, spoke up, “Just how strong are you, Mr. Wood. Do you think you might be a danger to society?” Coach spotted the little man who asked him the question. He had his hands on his hips in a powerful relaxed pose. The side of his mouth curled up into a half grin. “I WILL NOT BE A PROBLEM, BUT I WILL DEFEND MYSELF AND MY PLAYERS. BUT, TELL YOU WHAT, MR. HOWARD, WHY DON'T YOU FOLLOW ME OUTSIDE AND I'LL WILL SHOW YOU HOW POWERFUL I AM.” Coach then stepped around the podium and slowly sauntered to the opposite end of the field house. I noticed a reporter near the edge of he crowd, close to where Coach was walking, shifting nervously in his chair as our captain's massive sneakers planted on the ground next to him. The camera shifted over to view Coach Wood smirking down across his shoulder at the nervous crowd far below. Once he had passed the crowd and was out of the view the reporters themselves then got up and followed after him. The camera field we were watching was suddenly cut off. My roommate flipped on the local Channel 11 news who also had a live feed running via a shoulder-mounted camera, so we began watching that. The camera turned on to see coach bending over to step outside on the end of he field house that faced the street. The man holding the camera followed and stepped outside into the bright air. Once it had refocused we saw Coach standing on the grass between the field house and the street lined with news vans with his hands on his hips, watching as his little subjects stream outside to watch the events unfold. “I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A STRONG MAN, BUT NOW I'D WOULD SAY THAT IS THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR, DON'T YOU ALL THINK?” Our leader surveyed the intrigued and nervous crowd below. He picked out and pointed to a reporter. A beautiful, blonde, busty woman that I recognized from the Channel 13 news. “YOU. MS. KING OF 13 NEWS...” Coach winked at her and I suspected that he had previously fooled around with, probably often based on how gorgeous she was. “...WOULD YOU MIND HELPING ME DEMONSTRATE MY STRENGTH?” Vanessa King, the lead reporter at Channel 13, looked around nervously. She was biting her lip, obviously conflicted between her fear and intense lust she was feeling for the sexiest, biggest man on the planet. I wondered if she was also nervous that others might find out that she and coach had been together and jeopardizing her journalistic integrity. Perhaps, though, that was why coach picked her out because he knew she would trust him. She looked up at Coach Wood's hot masculine face, composed herself and stepped forward, standing barely shin high to the huge muscle man in front of her. “Sure, Mr. Wood. How may I help you?” Coach grinned, leaned forward and squatted down. “MISS, IF YOU DON'T MIND I AM GOING TO PICK YOU UP WITH ONE HAND. I PROMISE I WILL BE GENTLE.” I imagine Coach had told her that before in the bedroom before plowing her with the biggest cock she would ever have. Vanessa lifted her arms and Coach reached forward and wrapped his thigh-sized fingers around her torso and slowly lifted her into the air and stood up to chest level. “AND YOU ARE LIGHT AS A FEATHER TO ME, MS. KING. I CAN SEE YOU LOOK NERVOUS.” Coach then softened his voice as much as he could and spoke directly to her, “THERE IS NO REASON TO BE NERVOUS, VANESSA. YOU ARE IN THE SAFEST HANDS IN THE WORLD. WITH ME PROTECTING YOU, NOTHING BAD COULD HAPPEN TO YOUR RIGHT NOW.” With Coach lowering his voice his words came even more sultrily and sexily than anyone could imagine. There was an audible female groan from the other reporters and they absorbed his low rumbling, protective words. Any of the other female reporters would've given anything to switch places with Vanessa King at that moment. Vanessa was breathing heavily but it wasn't from fear so much as lust. Coach knew the effect he had on women and he smirked sexily down at the tiny voluptuous woman in his hand. “AS YOU CAN SEE, I AM MUCH STRONGER AND MORE POWERFUL AND THAN ANY OTHER HUMAN ON THE PLANET, AND IT'S NOT EVEN CLOSE.” Coach flexed his biceps with his opposite arm and the enormous split peak erupted upwards, stretching his skin. “WOULD YOU LIKE COP A FEEL, MA'AM?” Vanessa eyeballed the biceps muscle up and to her left. A muscle so big she could practically live inside it. “Um...yes, sure Coach Wood,” she replied. “OK. JUST REMEMBER I WON'T LET ANYTHING HAPPEN TO YOU.” Coach then raised up the excited reporter and set her down on his biceps! She sat with her butt on the peak and her legs dangling over toward the front. “SEE! I AM SO BIG AND MUSCULAR THAT YOU HAVE PLENTY OF SPACE UP THERE, MISS!” “Oh my, yes, Mr. Wood. You are certainly an impressive man. Your biceps feel like warm stone underneath me!” We could see that Ms. King was shivering, either from excitement, lust, or a fear of heights, possibly all three. “OK, THANK YOU MS. WOOD. I WILL SET YOU BACK DOWN NOW. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR HELPING ME.” “Oh, it was my utmost pleasure!” Vanessa replied excitedly as Coach gently grabbed and set her back on the ground. “SINCE THAT WAS SO, EASY, I DON'T THINK THAT WAS THE BEST DISPLAY HOW TRULY STRONG I AM.” Coach then turned and stepped over toward the street, leaned down and gingerly picked up a news van! He put one hand on the front and one on the back and lifted it up to chest level. We could see was the Action 5 news van. The crowd gasped at his display of power. “AND MAKE NO MISTAKE, THIS LITTLE VEHICLE HERE IS LIGHT. IT FEELS LIKE I'M LIFTING UP A TOASTER. IN FACT WATCH THIS.” Coach then shifted one hand under the van and rested the toy-like vehicle on this palm. He was holding it now with just one hand! While it was still light for him, the weight of the van caused the sinews of his deltoid to erupt in further relief, Meanwhile, he grinned cockily and brought is free hand up into a single-arm biceps pose. The awestruck reporters were beside themselves. “DOES THIS GIVE YOU LITTLE PEOPLE SOME IDEA OF HOW POWERFUL I AM. LOOK AT THIS. LOOK AT MY ENORMOUS BICEPS MUSCLE AND AS I HOLD ONE OF YOUR TINY VEHICLES IN MY OTHER HAND!” Coach then began raising and lowering the news van up and down above his shoulder as if it was a light dumbbell. “I COULDN'T EVEN GET MUCH OF PUMP FROM LIFTING THIS SMALL VAN, HAHA,” Coach chuckled. “DOES THAT ANSWER YOUR QUESTION OF HOW POWERFUL I AM, CHET?” Coach glared at Mr. Howard, who gulped at being spotted and addressed once again. I then noticed, even through the camera feed, what seemed to be an evil glint in Coach's eye. He motioned to set the Action 5 news van back down, next to Chet's Channel 11 news van. As he stepped over to the street, vehicle in hand, Coach kept his eyes on Chet and spoke. “I WANT TO THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING OUT TO DISCUSS THE RECENT DEVELOPMENTS WITH MYSELF AND THE TEAM...” Coach spoke, eyes still locked on the Chet, not watching where we was stepping. Then it happened. As he stepped over the empty car space his foot came crashing down on the Channel 11 news van! The sneaker easily crumpled the roof of the van down to its chassis. As more of Coach's muscular weight bore down the tires popped and gave way as more the metallic vehicle was smashed to the street. A horrendous sound of broken glass and twisting metal pierced the warm summer afternoon. Some in the crowd shrieked. Coach quickly lifted his foot up and metalic debris fell from the treads of his sneakers. He set his foot back down on the grass. He quickly then set down the un-damaged Action 5 van. “OH MY GOODNESS, I AM SO SORRY. I GUESS I SHOULD'VE BEEN WATCHING WHERE I STEP. WHEN YOU ARE A HUGE MUSCULAR GIANT LIKE MYSELF I GUESS I WILL HAVE TO BE MORE CAREFUL AROUND YOU TINY PEOPLE AND YOUR TOYS!” Coach found Chet again in the nervous crowd and addressed him, with a slight sneer. “I AM SO SORRY MR. HOWARD. YOU CAN SPEAK WITH DEAN WHO WILL REIMBURSE YOU FOR THE DAMAGES. I DOUBT YOUR INSURANCE COVERS YOUR CAR GETTING STEPPED ON BY A GIGANTIC FOOTBALL COACH, HAHA!” Chet nervously nodded his head up to the giant masculine man. We all knew it and few in the crowd who new of Chet's methods did as well, but Coach was clearly punishing Chet for bothering his players. All reporters made instant notes not to cross Coach or his players. “WELL THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING.” Coach's face and tone then turned stern. “NOW, I HAVE TO ASK THAT YOU ALL LEAVE MY PLAYERS ALONE. WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME HAS LITTLE TO DO WITH THEM. DO NOT BOTHER MY PLAYERS, THEY NEED TO FOCUS ON SCHOOL AND OUR UPCOMING GAME. IF YOU WANT TO SPEAK WITH ME MORE YOU CAN TALK TO THE DEAN AND MAYBE WE CAN SET UP SOME INTERVIEWS.” The crowd of reporters then erupted again, shouting out questions at the titanic man. Coach simply smiled warmly and raised his hands to quite the crowd, which instantly complied. “THANK YOU ALL AGAIN. I HOPE YOU WILL COME OUT TO CHEER ON OUR TEAM AT OUR GAME ON SATURDAY.” Coach then stepped around the group of action figure sized people, leaned over into the field house and shut the garage door. The feed cut off and we wondered where things would go from there.
  18. dredlifter

    The Giant Football Coach - Chapter 5

    Previously: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12573-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-1-2/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12587-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-3/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12662-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-4/ Chapter 5: Bathtub We filed out the stadium and into the locker room to shower and change into our weightlifting outfits. I was still speechless. Coach was huge at just 25 ft tall, but now at 50 ft he was downright monstrous. Would he even be able to fit inside the weight room? And how would he get around do anything? He could still fit inside the practice field, which thankfully was something like 100 ft tall, but right now he was pretty much banished from ever being inside a normal building ever again. I wondered if the physic professor was working on a way t reverse the growth and bring him back down to human size level. As I though about this an interesting though crept into the back of mind: Would Coach or I even WANT that? One of my questions was answered about and hour later in the weight room. Coach had somehow squeezed inside the big garage door and was sitting on his butt in the corner. I notice a few weight machines were crumpled by his side. I deduced that he had simply pushed some of the massive steel apparatus to the side as easily as brushing a couple of books off your desk. These were weights that we all struggled to squat and deadlift, and to him the plates were nothing more than vanilla wafers. He had pushed the equipment aside to make space to sit without demolishing the roof. There was no way he could stand up in here and he absolutely owned the corner the huge room with his muscled frame. He commanded, “ALL RIGHT BOYS, AS YOU CAN SEE I CAN JUST STILL FIT IN HERE. I'M WATCHING YOU ALL SO YOU BETTER GIVE ME 110% ON ALL YOUR LIFTS! GOT IT?'' We all nodded. “GOOD. I MAY NOT BE ABLE TO SPOT YOU ANYMORE BUT HELP EACH OTHER OUT! GET TO IT MY LITTLE BRUTES!!” Per his command we proceeded with our lifting session. By chance I ended up at the squat rack that was closest to Coach, thus he had his eye on me the whole time, booming down pointers. While squatting he corrected my form. “JACKSON, WHILE YOU ARE SQUATTING MAKE SURE YOU KEEP YOUR CHEST PUFFED OUT AND LOOK UPWARDS. THAT WILL KEEP YOUR BACK STRAIGHT...LIKE THIS,” While still sitting, he arched his back made his gigantic pecs leap to attention as he thrust his chest forward. His pec shelf heaved upward, becoming a full awning of pure muscle hanging over his brick covered muscle gut. “YOU REALLY WANT TO PUSH YOUR CHEST OUT. PRETEND YOU'VE YOU GOT PECS LIKE I DO AND YOU REALLY WANT TO SHOW THEM OFF! HAHA!” He chuckled and I joined him. “Will do Coach. I dream of having some huge pecs like you someday!” “YOU KEEP WORKING HARD, JACKSON AND YOU JUST MIGHT!” Coach extended his arms and brought his hands together, squeezing his pecs and making them bunch up toward his chin again. He was looking down at them, admiring his own size and power. I took his advice and began squatting with my form corrected. I arched my back, puffed out my chest, and made sure to look upward as I performed the movement. Through looking upward into the mirror in front of me, I could Coach's handsome face watching me intently. Knowing he was watching and motivating me on, I set a new personal best that day! Not only on the amount of weight I squatted but in the number of reps! As I racked the weight I turned around and nearly fell to the floor due to the pump in my legs. “GREAT JOB JACKSON! YOU ROCKED THAT SET, LITTLE MAN! YOUR CHEST LOOKED HUGE AS YOU WERE SQUATTING, PERFECT FORM!” I was relishing the big man's praise. There is nothing more satisfying than pleasing your giant, muscled football coach with your effort. I beamed up at him. “Thanks, Coach! You mean this chest! GRRRR!!!” In jest I brought my fists together and made a crab pose at coach. He lit up, entertained by my display. “YEAH JACKSON! DAMN, MY LITTLE BRUTE, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME LOOK SMALL SOON! GRRRR!” Coach brought his fists together and made a crab pose himself, completely demolishing my pose, but all in good fun. “JACKSON, WE ARE PRACTICALLY TWINS WITH OUR HUGE MUSCLES, AREN'T WE!” “Hell yeah, Coach! Two huge muscle Brutes!” Both Coach and I laughed uproariously. He was not only a fantastic leader and motivator, but was just such a pleasure to be around all the time. “GREAT WORKOUT MEN. NOW IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME I HAVE TO HEAD BACK TO THE FIELD HOUSE TO TALK WITH THE DEAN. AS YOU CAN IMAGINE, MY NEW SIZE IS GOING TO BRING ON SOME NEW CHALLENGES. NOT ONLY FOR ME, BUT THE SCHOOL AS WELL. WE WILL BE HAVING A TEAM MEETING IN THERE AT 7:30PM SHARP! SEE YOU ALL THERE.” With that, we opened the garage door for him. Our captain then got on his hands and knees and crawled through the opening like a child squeezing through a dog door, giving us a shot of his gigantic muscled ass stretching his gym shorts to the limit. We broke from our lifting session and showered. I headed out for the one late afternoon class I had that day. On the way I was again approached by a reporter. I recognized him as one of the TV anchors from the channel 11 news. “Excuse me, could I talk to you? Would you mind providing us with some insight on the situation with your coach?” “I'm late for class, I really can't talk.” He again stepped in front of me. “If I could just speak to your for 5 minutes I...” “EXCUSE ME SIR!” I said with irritation. I sidestepped him and hustled to class, leaving him muttering at me as I quickly walked away. Later that evening, I had finished my homework and then dinner early so I walked over to the field house about 20 minutes early. I stepped in inside the cavernous room and saw Coach standing over a tiny looking man in a brown suit. As I got closer I realized it was the dean. Coach saw me and waved me over as he continued his conversation. “...and we have some contractors already working on putting together some new furniture for you, Mr. Wood. We certainly are doing our best to make your comfortable. Some more mattresses will be delivered later this evening to give you at least some sort of comfortable sleeping space. I've also enlisted some help from the theatre department to come with some more clothes. I understand you have been wearing the same clothes for the last three days.” “THANK YOU DEAN. IT WOULD BE GOOD TO GET SOME SPARE CLOTHES. AS ACTIVE AS I AM, I AM AFRAID I AM GOING TO BUST OUT OF THESE CLOTHES AT ANY MOMENT. I THINK I MAY ACTUALLY BE GETTING SLIGHTLY MORE MUSCULAR AS I GROW. THESE SHORTS AND SHOES HAVE NEVER FELT SO TIGHT.” Coach put one leg out in front of him and FLEXED the massive quadriceps, filling the shorts legs to their bursting point. “MY LEGS ARE LOOKING PRETTY MASSIVE, AREN'T THEY, LITTLE DEAN?” Coach grinned, fishing for praise and having some fun with his supposed 'superior'. “Ye...yes, Mr. Wood. Your development is quite remarkable.” I notice the Dean seemed to be holding his hand together in front of him. I correctly guessed he was trying to hide his arousal at the site of the giant shirtless muscle hunk in front of him. One the Dean had calmed himself, he changed the subject. “Also, Mr. Wood, as I'm sure you are aware it is getting increasing difficult to hide a man of your stature. News has already leaked out that you have grown. We will obviously need to address this.” I piped up, “Yeah, Coach. Me and bunch of the guys keep getting headed off by reporters anytime we trek across campus.” Coach Wood's face scrunched in disapproval as I said this. “Yes, I've heard that as well,” the Dean added. “So, Mr. Wood, normally your pre-game press conference would be on Friday. I suggest we move it to tomorrow morning and then you can address the press as well.” The Dean meagerly looked way up to Coach who had now crossed his arms which only made him look more intimidating. “That is...um...if it's OK with your, Coach, sir.” I chuckled a bit to myself. Here was the Dean, perhaps the only man who previously had power over Coach, and here we was groveling like the a beta male. Coach smirked down at the Dean. He uncrossed his arms and shrugged his shoulders, putting the Dean at ease. “I SUPPOSE, LITTLE MAN. HELL, I'M SO DAMN BIG IT'S PROBABLY BETTER TO GET THIS OUT IN THE OPEN. ESPECIALLY IF THOSE REPORTERS KEEP MESSING WITH MY PLAYERS. THAT WILL END AFTER TOMORROW MORNING.” Coach said this last part with an aggression that even made me nervous. “SO WE'LL HAVE THE PRESS CONFERENCE AT 9:00AM TOMORROW MORNING, IN HERE. THIS IS THE ONLY BUILDING THAT CAN FIT THIS HUGE BRUTE BODY.” He quickly brought his arms up into a double-biceps pose, grinning smugly at the Dean who once again was futility trying to cover up his small tenting crotch. By now, other players were beginning to file into the practice field. “NOW IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME, DEAN, I HAVE A PLAYERS' MEETING TO RUN. THANK YOU HAVE A GOOD NIGHT.” The rest of the meeting went as typical. Well, as typical as it could with a giant booming head coach leading the discussion. About an hour later we had finished and were dismissed. However, as the older players were filing out Coach singled me out and requested I come back to see him in about two hours. I wondered what for as I headed back to the my room. Two hours later I found myself back in the field house. As Coach saw me enter he waved me over to his little living space. The carpenters had indeed brought him some crude furniture. A huge bench to act as a chair, a couple of standing shelves, and even a small (to him) desk. As I neared he got off his bench and planted his big bulging ass on the turf with a loud thud. “I THOUGHT I'D TRY TO BRING MYSELF CLOSER TO YOUR LEVEL TO TALK. I'M SORRY THAT YOU HAVE TO LOOK UP SO FAR AT ME WHEN I SPEAK. IT'S JUST THAT YOU GUYS ARE SO LITTLE COMPARED TO ME. MAN, I CAN'T BELIEVE I WAS EVER THAT SMALL. EVEN THOUGH IT'S ONLY BEEN A COUPLE OF DAYS I FEEL LIKE I'VE BEEN A GIANT FOREVER. AND...TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, I LOVE IT!” Even at his lowered level he still towered over me. “Well, Coach, you've always been a really big guy, even at your normal size, so you sort of have always been a giant. You've always been bigger, taller, stronger, more powerful than most people so what you are feeling is completely natural, just on an exaggerated level.” “I SUPPOSE YOU'RE RIGHT, JACKSON. THAT'S WHY I LIKE YOU AND I RECRUITED YOU. YOU'VE GOT ONE OF THE BETTER HEAD'S ON YOU TO GO WITH YOUR ATHLETIC SKILL, MAKES YOU A TRUE ASSET TO MY TEAM.” I couldn't help but blush a bit as he complimented me. “BUT, I HAD YOU STAY BEHIND BECAUSE I NEED HELP. SINCE I GREW AGAIN TAKING A SHOWER IS OUT OF THE QUESTION. I'M SURE YOU CAN TELL I'M SMELLING A BIT RIPE.” I could tell. All the team could. At his new size, Coach's musky essence, a combination of testosterone, sweat, bar soap and deodorant was impossible to miss. I washed over us as soon as we walked into the field house. But it wasn't a gross smell. It was the smell of a true man. A powerful, masculine, alpha male. It suited him perfectly. Coach continued, “I WAS HOPING YOU COULD HELP ME SNEAK OVER TO THE CAMPUS POOL. I NEED TO WASH BUT I DON'T EXACTLY FIT IN A BATHROOM ANYMORE.” I nodded my head. That was the understatement of the year. Coach went on to explain the plan. The field house was only about a block away from the campus pool. It was now 10:30pm and the pool had been closed for about 30 minutes. Luckily the pool was in the back of the rec center nestled in the corner of two large gymnasiums which had no windows. Unless someone went out of their way to specifically look at the pool we should have complete privacy. “Ok Coach I can stand lookout for you.” Coach thanked me and began shucking off his clothes, again giving me a glimpse of his gargantuan dick. He wrapped a sheet around his waist like he did last night and grabbed a couple more sheets to act as towels. I raised the garage door to the field house and looked outside in the night air. No one was in sight. I ventured out about 50 yards, looked around and saw nobody. I waved Coach out. He bear-crawled out of the garage and stood up to his full height and look around himself, spotting no one. Luckily the field house and the gyms were all tall enough that no one would be able to spot his towering head from the main road on the other side of the building. I played the lookout as we made our way to the pool. As he casually walked toward me he looked like a Olympian god with his toga sheet hanging around his waist, all huge and muscled and lit up by the light posts. A couple of minutes later we were at the chain link fence surrounding the pool. “How are we going to get in?” Coach just chuckled and gingerly stepped over the fence as easily as I would be able to step over a felled log. I felt really stupid as he did so, smirking down at me as he easily stepped into the pool area. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE SMART ONE OF THE TEAM?” Coach joked. “But how am I going to get insi-” Before I could finish Coach reached down over the fence with his brawny arms and wrapped his enormous hands around my waist. His fingers easily met as he encircled my torso. Stunned, I felt my feet leave the ground as I rocketed up to 40 ft above ground. I gasped as I felt like I was on a carnival ride. I instinctively grabbed onto the his enormous hands. “EASY LITTLE GUY. I AIN'T GONNA DROP YOU.” Coach held me at arms length right in from of his massive heaving pectorals. “I COULD EASILY HOLD YOU WITH JUST ONE HAND, BUT I DIDN'T WANT TO FREAK YOU OUT TOO MUCH.” “Than...thanks, Coach,” I stated warily. Regardless of being in possession of the biggest, strongest man in history, it was still natural to realize you are hanging 40 ft above the ground. As I stared up at his big handsome face though, I began to relax, which he noticed. “THERE 'YA GO. NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT WHEN YOUR BIG BRUTE COACH HAS A HOLD YOU. YOU ARE PROBABLY IN ONE OF THE SAFEST PLACES ON EARTH RIGHT NOW, WITH ALL THIS MUSCLE PROTECTING YOU,” Coach emphasized this point by bouncing his titanic pecs right in front of me. It was mesmerizing to watch the mattress-sized slabs of muscle tighten into a hundred individual fibers, then rise and fall as he demonstrated his expert muscle control. “ALRIGHT I SUPPOSE I SHOULD PUT YOU DOWN. ALTHOUGH I COULD HOLD YOU FOREVER. YOU FEEL LIGHT AS A FEATHER TO A BIG MAN LIKE ME!” Coach set me back on the ground. He then whipped off his sheet, once again exposing his colossal manhood to me. I feel my own dick and balls shrivel up a bit due to the totally emasculating size difference. Coach the gingerly stepped into the 5 ft deep section of the pool. The water barely covered his ankles. The deepest part of the pool was 12 feet deep, which would be about the same depth as a bathtub to a normal sized human. Coach then sat down with his ass in the deepest part of the pool. As he sat the pool water surged upward and overflowed the pool, soaking my feet. Luckily, he set his towels/sheets on the lifeguard chair so they remained dry. Coached leaned back against the deep-end wall, his legs extending half way toward the shallow end, and sighed in relief. “AWWWW. THAT FEELS SO GOOD LITTLE BUDDY. I DON'T MIND BEING SWEATY BUT AFTER TWO DAYS IT'S NICE TO RINSE OFF. PROBABLY GOOD FOR EVERYBODY AROUND ME TOO, HAHA.” Even though he didn't have any soap, he reached over and grabbed his toga sheet and proceeded to scrub up and down his body with it. He leaned back and completely submerged his head underwater, again raising the level of the water to the very lip of the pool. “WOO LITTLE GUY. I NEEDED THIS. FEELS GOOD TO BE CLEAN AND TO JUST COOL OFF A BIT. TOO BAD I'M SO HUGE OR I WOULD DO SOME LAPS. I LOVE SWIMMING, IT'S A GREAT WORKOUT. HOW ABOUT YOU, JACKSON?” I stood on the side of the pool near the deep-end and as we conversed. “Oh yeah, Coach. I love swimming too. I was a lifeguard in high school.” “WELL I GUESS I'M IN NO DANGER TO DROWN WITH YOU HERE THEN, RIGHT?” He chuckled at his joke. “SAY IF YOU LOVE SWIMMING SO MUCH, WHY DON'T YOU JOIN ME?” “Oh no, Coach. I'm keeping watch, I couldn't possibly-” He suddenly shot out his long arm, reached behind me and pulled me forward into the pool, gym clothes and all. I came back up to the surface spitting and sputtering. “Hey!” “HAHA! RELAX JACKSON, WE'RE JUST A COUPLE OF MEN ENJOYING THE POOL. I KNEW YOU'D BE APPREHENSIVE SO I THOUGH YOU COULD USE A NUDGE.” “A nudge? I don't think you are capable of nudges, any more, Coach!” Coach laughed again as I hauled myself up onto the ledge of the pool. “WELL, YOU'RE ALREADY SOAKED, SKIM DOWN AND JOIN ME FOR A SWIM.” I began shucking off my wet clothes. Luckily I was wearing flip flops so I wouldn't have to worry about soggy shoes. I got down to my underwear and stood up to dive back in.” “COME ON, JACKSON. WE'RE ALL MEN HERE. TAKE OFF THOSE SKIVVIES, YOU AIN'T GOT NOTHING I HAVEN'T SEEN BEFORE. BEEN IN LOCKER ROOMS MY ENTIRE LIFE.” I relented, slid down my boxer-briefs and stepped out of them. “THERE YA GO. NICE PACKAGE, LITTLE BRUTE. YOU DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF IN THAT REGARD.” As he complimented me I blushed and quickly dove into the water, desperate to hide my own equipment. I resurfaced and saw Coach smiling back at me. “The water sure does feel good, Coach.” I proceeded to swim up and down the side of the pool for a few of laps, enjoying the stretch and feeling of gliding through the water. I stopped and grabbed the wall in the deep-end to rest. “I CAN TELL YOU WERE A LIFEGUARD. YOU'RE A GREAT SWIMMER. IF YOU WEREN'T SO GOOD AT FOOTBALL I'D SEND YOU OVER THE SWIMMING TEAM.” I thanked the Coach for his kudos. “I MEAN IT, JACKSON, YOU ARE NATURAL IN THE WATER. SO SMOOTH. YOUR SEXY BODY GLIDING EFFORTLESSLY THROUGH THE WATER...” “What the hell did Coach just say?” I though to myself. “Did he just call me 'sexy'?” Coach trailed off and I noticed he sighed heavily and tilted his head back. His eyes rolled up as he exhaled. I pulled myself up on the ledge of the pool and watched his mammoth chest slowly heave up and down. I noticed one of his arms was under the water down by his crotch and then I realized. Coach was totally getting off! He moaned loudly, the basso-profundo power of his voice reverberating through my own chest. Coach opened his eyes and saw me staring, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. His face turned red as he blushed. “SORRY JACKSON. SINCE I'VE GROWN I'VE OBVIOUSLY BECOME TOO BIG TO GET LAID. I HAVEN'T GOTTEN ANY IN FIVE DAYS NOW AND I'M PENT UP.” I sat there stunned for a couple of reasons. One, Coach was such a testosterone filled stud that he was used to getting laid within every four days or so. And with his status as a local celebrity, not to mention being one of the sexiest, most handsome, most masculine men on the planet it wasn't hard to believe that was true. The most stunning thing, though, he called me 'sexy'!! I finally found the words to speak as his giant eyes bored into my own. “Coach, you called me sexy? Are you...are you GAY?” Coach just chuckled at my question. “GAY, STRAIGHT, THEY'RE ALL JUST LABELS, JACKSON. AND A BIG, POWERFUL MAN LIKE ME JUST CONSTANTLY NEEDS TO FUCK OR ELSE I'LL GO CRAZY. DOESN'T MATTER, MEN OR WOMEN...” Coach was clearly now full on fondling himself under the water. Just a couple of moments later I couldn't believe my eyes. His hard dick began to rise out of the water! And it was HUGE! I mean, yeah it was huge because it was attached to a 50 ft tall man, but even if he were normal height his cock looked like it would be almost a foot long! I gasped when I saw it. “SORRY JACKSON I'M JUST SO AROUSED I CAN'T HELP IT. AND BEING THIS HUGE AND POWERFUL HAS ONLY BEEN MAKING ME HORNIER. I'VE GOT TO TAKE CARE OF THIS.” I watched in awe as his dick continued to inflate, bigger and bigger as he stroked himself. And it wasn't just long, it was FAT. I couldn't believe my eyes. “Holy shit, Coach. You are hung like a pornstar!” Coach grinned cockily at me, soaking in not only the pool but my praise. “THANKS LITTLE GUY. I'VE ALWAYS BEEN BLESSED IN THE SHORTS, YOU COULD SAY. IT'S A BLESSING AND A CURSE. I'VE SCARED AWAYS SEVERAL MEN AND WOMEN WHEN THEY SEE THIS MONSTER. BUT, EVEN IN THOSE SITUATIONS IT MADE ME SO HORNY TO KNOW THAT I WAS SO HUNG IT WAS SCARY, HAHA!” Coach began tweaking his nipples with one hand while stroking the fleshy tubular beast with his other. By now I too was rock hard, something that didn't go unnoticed by Coach. Coach smirked at me and asked, “WELL WELL WELL, JACKSON. DO I HAVE A LITTLE GAY BRUTE ON MY TEAM, HE HE,” he teased. “What!?!? No! I'm straight!” Truthfully I was straight. Or at least I thought I was. But there was something about watching this ultimate man in front of me play with his gargantuan muscles and dick. I don't think anybody on earth would not be aroused by what I was seeing. Mother Teresa would've been fingering herself at the sight. Coach snickered watching me panic. “I'M JUST MESSING WITH 'YA, BUDDY. AGAIN, GAY, STRAIGHT, IT DOESN'T MATTER TO ME. WE'RE RED-BLOODED FOOTBALL BRUTES, WE JUST WANT TO PLAY FOOTBALL, LIFT WEIGHTS, EAT AND FUCK! OOOOOOOHHH.” Coach was moaning more now as he stroked himself. He was now at full mast and it was astounding. “Jeezus, Coach! You are so...so...HUNG! How big are you?!” I couldn't help but ask. At full erection, his dick now looked to be longer and I was tall! “HE HE, YOU A LITTLE SIZE QUEEN OR SOMETHING?” I blushed red with embarrassment. “I'M JUST JOKING. EVERYBODY WHO SEES THIS WANTS TO KNOW HOW BIG IT AS. AND WHO CAN BLAME THEM! WELL, BUDDY, WHEN I WAS STILL A TINY 6 FT 6 MAN I WAS 11.5 INCHES LONG. DOING SOME QUICK MATH, AT MY NEW HEIGHT I'M...WELL-” I beat him to the punch my own calculation. “That's over SEVEN AND QUARTER FEET LONG!” I shouted. “Like, around seven feet, four inches! Holy crap!!” “OH YEAH, JACKSON. I LIKE HEARING THAT. KNOWING MY MEGA-DICK IS NOW TALLER THAN ALL BUT JUST A TINY FRACTION OF THE MEN ON EARTH. IT MAKES ME FEEL SO, SO BIG AND STRONG.” Coach was stroking faster now and he began writhing in the water, making small waves crash up against the sides of the pool. I was now full on stroking myself too on the side of the pool. “OH YEAH LITTE BRUTE. JOIN ME. IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE I'VE HAD A MUTUAL JACK-OFF SESSION WITH A BUDDY!” I was stroking my own respectable 7-incher and really getting into it with Coach. I imagined him plowing some big-titted bimbo. And then I also pictured him fucking a big studly lineman. Thinking about how both the bimbo and the lineman would be crying out from being invaded by a 11.5 inch monster dick. Only now that monster dick was over 7 feet long! Coach was obviously nearing the point of no-return. “OH SHIT, JACKSON, YOU'VE GOTTA HELP ME OUT!” I wondered what he meant by that. He suddenly reach over the side of the pool and wrapped one his giant mitts around my waist, being careful not to squeeze me too hard while in his sexual frenzy. He picked me up and plopped me down on his pubic region, right at the base of his cock! His crotch was about 1 ft under the water and my feet splashed down onto his soft skin. Facing the colossal manhood in front of me, I noticed my eyes were just below the corona of his dickhead! “PLEASE HELP ME OUT JACKSON. SEEING YOUR SEXY JOCK BODY LOOK SO TINY NEXT TO MY DICK IS DRIVING ME NUTS. HELP YOUR OLD COACH OUT, STUD!” I couldn't resist him. I reached forward and wrapped my arms around the seven foot long tumescence in front of me. It was about one and half times as thick as a telephone pole. I rubbed my chest up and down the enormous log. Tracing the rolling pin-size veins that traversed up and down the shaft. “OH YEAH, JACKSON. THAT FEELS SO GOOD. USE ALL YOUR MUSCLES TO HUG AND SQUEEZE MY HUGE COACH COCK.” With Coach's encouragement I went all out. Bear hugging it as hard as I could, rubbing my entire torso up and down the huge fleshy pipe. At one point I turned around and rubbed my back and ass up and down his dick, while we stared into each others' eyes. He glazed eyes watching me lustily from over the top of this mountainous chest muscles. He smirked down at me. “YOU MIGHT WANT TO BE CAREFUL PRESSING YOUR ASS AGAINST MY DICK. I MIGHT TRY TO SHOVE IT IN YOU, LITTLE MAN.” I blanched in fear, which only made Coach chuckle. “JUST KIDDING, STUD. THOUGH I REALLY WISH I COULD RIGHT NOW. OOOOOHH. THAT FEELS SO GOOD. I'M GETTING SO CLOSE.” At this point I turned back around, re-hugged his cock and ground my own throbbing erection into his flesh. “OH YEAH, JACKSON, THOSE SQUATS ARE REALLY WORKING FOR YOU. WATCHING YOUR ASS FLEX AGAINST MY COCK IS SO HOT. AHHHH!!! ALMOST TIME, LITTLE BRUTE!” When I heard this I really poured on my stimulation. I even wrapped my arms and my right leg around the rock hard shaft. Then, as I held on as hard as I could I lifted my other leg and wrapped it around his giant cock too! My entire weight was being held up by his dick! “OH DAMN, JACKSON! MY DICK IS SO POWERFUL IT CAN HOLD UP AND ENTIRE JOCK STUD!” He reached forward and begin twisting his dickhead, his massive ripped forearms hovering above me. He then began bucking his hips, making me me rise and fall like I was a horse on a carousel. I ground my rock hard cock as hard as I could into his colossal cock and erupted with a stifled yell of my own! Not five seconds later I felt his massive dick swell, pushing my arms and legs out even further. He moaned, low and deep, trying his best to keep from drawing attention to the supposed deserted pool area. I looked up and saw a geyser of white cream shoot up from his dick as he orgasmed with the force of bundle of dynamite. The white jizz must've shot up 50 ft into the air before it began to rain down on us. A couple of huge globs fell on my shoulders, coating one half of my torso with his essence. “OOOOOOO YEAHHHHH! SO FUCKIN' POWERFUL...” Coached moaned in pleasure behind me. Seven or eight more spurts followed, each just as powerful as the first one. Coach was a complete stud. The perfect specimen of manhood. Finally, after what seemed like a full minute, Coach's eruption died down and he relaxed and sighed with a chuckle. “WOW JACKSON, THAT WAS ONE OF THE BEST JERK OFF SESSIONS I'VE EVER HAD! BEING THIS HUGE IS AWESOME. THANKS FOR HELPING ME OUT LITTLE MAN. IT LOOKS LIKE YOU ENJOYED IT AS WELL, HEH HEH.” I nodded up to Coach leaped of his pubic region and into the deep water to rinse the white slime of me. I resurfaced and swam to the side. Coach sloshed up huge waves of pool water onto his ripped, hairy torso to wash his cum off himself as well. Once he was satisfied he stood up out of the water and onto the concrete. I watched as the water level in the pool feel by 2-3 feet as he stepped out. I wondered what the lifeguards would think tomorrow when they saw the low level of the pool. There were also clumps of his white jizz floating around which I pointed out. “HM, I SUPPOSE WE SHOULD DO SOMETHING ABOUT THAT,” Coach said. He looked around and saw some 5-gallon buckets of chlorine outside of the fence. He reached over and pinched a couple the buckets and set them near. “JACKSON, WOULD YOU MIND WALKING AROUND THE POOL AND THROWING IN SOME EXTRA SCOOPS OF CHLORINE? THAT WILL HELP DISSOLVE THE EVIDENCE.” “Sure thing Coach.” I complete my task as Coach dried himself off with one of the sheets and then wrapped the other to cover himself up. My gym shorts had dried enough that I was able to wear them as we made our way back to the field house. With all of Coach's moaning and just pure size I was surprised that no one had heard or spotted us. Coach thanked me for helping him out with a sexy smile. I departed from the field house and made my way back home, excited for the what the next day might bring. ************************************************************************
  19. Chapter One is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13085-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake/ Chapter Four is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13116-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-four/ DISCLAIMER This chapter takes place in a leather bar, and there will be some kink. Please, be warned. Professor Schnackenburg's mistake Chapter Five Although he felt worried over the entire strange situation, Lucien also felt aroused. A man claiming to be an ancient war-god, and who exuded a powerful nimbus to back his insane claim up, was facing Lucien's crush, the skinhead-bouncer at the leather-club The Dungeon. Chad was shorter than the war-god, but he was the bouncer here, and no-one – hot or not – would enter The Dungeon without a valid membership. The dim light of the entrance glowed in Chad's shaved head and caused a metallic shine from his olive green bomber jacket, as he looked up into the war-god's face. The dim light also glowed in the bronzed brawn and the leather-jockstrap of Korgoth-Gnaah – war-god of Anghra-Lemur. Aggro defiance burned in Chad's blue eyes. The war-god smiled: "Your loyalty to your... brotherhood... here is honourable, lad. You will soon understand, what it mean, to be a warrior of Anghra-Lemur." Kortoth-Gnaah made a gesture, and the club disappeared. The club members and the housecarls of the war-god found themselves in a lowland meadow, not very far from water. The wind made willow rustle, and the inland plains were covered by high grass. Two sabre-tooth cats, larger than modern lions, emerged out of the grass. Korgoth-Gnaah pointed in the direction of the cats. Two of his housecarls moved towards the cats, who draw closer, in the belief, that the men were prey, not predators. Then it happened. Suddenly, and too fast for the bystanders to comprehend, the giant cats jumped, but soon laid in the grass dead. Lucien could hear two cracking sounds, when the big men in pre-historic clothes broke the necks of the confident animals. "Can't believe it! Feels great, Jack!" "I feel more of a man than I have ever done before, Magnussen. Just a pity, that Cody couldn't join us. He would have liked this." Despite that their attire looked like something out of a sword-and-sorcery film, the two men did a high-five. It looked misplaced in this surrounding. Both men faced their war-god: "The cats are down, as you asked, Master." "And now, all of you, behold this!" Kortoth-Gnaah made another gesture. Round mud-huts with straw-roofs emerged out of thin air, or as if mists were disappearing. The mud-huts didn't look impressive. They just looked as they belonged to a bygone age. "In the early days of Anghra-Lemur, the remains of Lemuria and Atlantis were still among men, and remembered by the tribes." Heavy stone walls erupted out of the ground, and then stood there – stable as they had always been in place. The walls reminded Lucien of postcards from Sardinia and Malta, depicting stone age buildings. "And in the early days of Anghra-Lemur, the veil was thin between the realm of men and the realms of the old gods." Spires and domes of alabaster and jade emerged out of thin air: A fairytale land of impossible architectural feats. Gold mosaïques decked some of the domes. A sense of awe came over Lucien, and he couldn't have been the only one to feel the sense of wonder at the sight of the city of mixed buildings that emerged before them. Lucien could hear the cries of seagulls and the murmur of the sea. "But before I transform you into men of Anghra-Lemur, I have to probe your minds." The ancient archipelago disappeared. Lucien found himself in the middle of a Nothing, a semi-darkness lit by a dim green and golden light coming from nowhere and everywhere. He was not alone. Chad was there. Chad was there, and looked more hot than before. Lucien could feel his dick throb inside his black rubber trousers, and he could see the bulge inside Chad's camo clad fly. Chad's shoulders and upper arms bulged, like his polo shirt had been painted on them. His chest protruded heroically and protectively. Chad looked very aware of his physical strength, and a ill-boding smirk Lucien remembered from the dark past returned to Chad's handsome face. A chilly feeling awakened in Lucien's mind. Without saying anything, Chad took a few steps forward, and pushed Lucien to the ground violently, but taking care that Lucien didn't harm his head in the fall. The well-built and confident skinhead towered over him – a brutal presence of masculinity above him. Then, Chad began to unbutton his fly: One button, two buttons, three buttons... Chad stood over Lucien's defenceless frame, one powerful camo-clad leg on each side of Lucien's body, and Chad pulled his cock out. "Take this. Take this like a real man." The jet of Chad's piss hit Lucien's chest. All the nightmarish memories of bullying from their fourteenth year returned, making him devastated, but, with the blink of an eye, he realised, that it was different now. Now, he was clad in his impenetrable armour of rubber. The shiny black material protected him, deflecting the piss, an armour making him invulnerable. The pressure and the weight of Chad's piss hit him, but he was dry and comfortable inside his armour, and he could see, that Chad's eyes weren't full of hate and anger, but of playfulness and concern for Lucien's well-being. Chad couldn't finish urinating, since the game they played made him too aroused. Chad moaned in pleasure. Lucien moaned back. "Yes, Chad! I'm taking it like a real man." The scene transformed again. There was no trace of urine on Lucien's clothes, and Chad's fly was closed. They stood close to each other, took one step towards each other, and embraced each other. The bulges inside their trousers pressed into each other. Lucien could feel the body heat of Chad, and pressed his face into the warm fabric of Chad's polo shirt. He could feel the hardness of Chad's muscles underneath. Chad was breathing faster and heavier than usual. "I love you, Lucien. I'm so sorry for what I did in the past. I was afraid of, what you made me feel. I love you so much. I will always protect you." It felt like a dream. In a sense, it probably was. Kortoth-Gnaah had propulsed them into this dreamworld. They didn't care. They had each other. They embraced each other for something that felt like hours. Then, the dreamworld slowly faded into something more familiar, and they were back by the counter of The Dungeon. The clock hadn't moved a second. Now, they could have a vague sense of what was in storage for them: Kortoth-Gnaah was going to transform them, like he had transformed the men already in his cohort. They would become titanic warriors of a forgotten age, and taste a drop of the power of the gods. Kortoth-Gnaah began to talk: "I have seen enough. You are loyal to each other, each in their own way, and you desire the strength I can endow you. Some of you are more easily transformed than others..." He eyed those of the men in leather who worked out. "... but I will transform you all." With that word, he took a step forward, bowed down and embraced Chad with his mighty arms. A greenish-white field of power surrounded the war-god and the bouncer, increasing in strength. Lucien could see Chad grow inside the field, becoming taller and even more muscled, and he could hear Chad grunt in pleasure. Then the power field expanded in all directions, up through the ceiling, downwards to the main space of the club, and outwards, filling the entire entrance where they stood. It felt overwhelming. Lucien blacked out, and the last thing he heard was Chad shouting – in a deeper voice, now: "YES! I HAVE THE POWER!" * * * Chapter Six is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13390-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-six/
  20. goggletan

    Thats what Bros are for (Part 2)

    Link for part 1 A full week later Sun 20 Aug The next afternoon Mon 21 Aug As a way of saying thanks, Scott picked me up during the late afternoon and drove me with my luggage to the frat house. He didn't speak much during the journey except to say he enjoyed his 2 weeks immensely. He seemed nervous and at times shaky but I assured him that once he got his body back i will try my best to bulk him up to my standards too. As we arrived we could see the typical frat building. In all its grandness it looked incredibly imposing. Not surprising tho, this fraternity has been popular for producing not only smart boys but also guys who became future fitness models, star sportsman and coaches who brought their teams to victory. It was a frat where members were chosen based on an overall combination of good looks and athletic potential and rumor has it that they preferred guys who possessed a cocky or alpha personality trait as well. We were greeted at the door by a group of senior boys who were all imposingly tall and large. You could tell a number of them were professional bodybuilders with their large bodies. Some of them were swimmers with broad shoulders and golden tann lines. A few were baseball players with they're mighty arms and thick muscular legs. But all of them had godly faces. And i mean absolutely Adonis faces. Is it no wonder this is one of the richest frats on campus? These boys can easily take a few modeling photos and sell them as year calendars with demand coming from other states and even overseas. We were ushered in through the main door where a huge mirror stood beside us. For the first time in 2 weeks i could see both me and Scott side by side and it was then i realized how big the differences in our size had become. Because i wasn't used to his skinny genes i had actually been losing alot of his mass since i took control of his body. He on the other hand having taken control of my body with the determination and regular gym visits had become absolutely pumped. I couldn't help but think how lucky i was that Scott managed to help me bulk my body up so much. I would be having alot of fun once im back to being me. I snicked to myself. Looking around i realized there were no one else around. It was just the seniors and us both. Scott eyed one of the seniors before he nodded his head. The senior opened another door to a smaller room and gestured us both in. Looking down at me Scott lifted a brow before saying "I didnt tell you but they called us both in earlier before the other newer members arrived. They said they wanted to settle the swap first before the other members arrived. Guess i can return your sunglasses and cap now huh?" I felt pity for him "Nah bro, i'll let you stay a hot stud for a few more moments" He smiled slightly asking again "Can i do the honors of clicking the button that will swap us back later?" I nodded and handed him the Chonovic app. 15mins later A group of seniors no more than 12 or 13 begin to fill the room and take they're seats. They all stared at us curiously before one of them, a broad shouldered handsome swimmer type stood up and begin to speak. 'Welcome Scott and Greg to our fraternity. I'll cut to the chase. We understand both of you were involved in some cheating related to the admission of members to our frat house 2 weeks ago. Are you both aware of this?" Both me and Scott nodded our heads The swimmer continued "Alright. We have already discussed our course of action. Helping another frat brother is one of the most important traits all frat boys here should have. And as ironic as it would seem this was a clear test of brotherhood. However the main cheater will continue to face punishment as he tried to impersonate someone else in our admissions and will be subjected to the official punishment. I will leave the unofficial punishments such as hazing for the other junior members to decide later. He then yelled loudly "Scott! Do what must be done." Without looking at Scott I breathed heavily feeling terrible for him thinking about what must be going through his mind now. A full 3 seconds passed as i fixated my eyes on the senior members and heard the sound of Scott picking up the app. "BANG!!!!" A loud crashing noise filled the room shocking me to the core. I turned to face Scott before looking at the ground The Chovonic app was just lying on the ground completely crashed and destroyed In a moment of shock i was so stunned I couldnt even look or hear what was going on "Thank you senior members for the kind compliments. I have always tried my best to help my brothers around me. But after Greg's successful audition he refused to swap back. It was only because of the safety mechanism which allowed the host to switch back that I got my body back and was able to make it for my own audition." My jaw dropped as I finally gained control of my nerves and looked back at Scott. He had just finished his speech and turned to look at me similarly. I watched as his previously nervous face was swept away almost instantly revealing the smug cocky face I had never seen before. I could see the arrogance in him spread like the plague, from his eyes to his mouth as his tongue licked his lips in a show of dominance and finally to his body posture. He assumed a more relaxed stance before speaking again. "I always knew bad characters existed in the world but i never thought it was my own buddy. Greg your'e really a disappointment. I willingly swapped my body with you so that you could finally live out the life you always wanted and join the best frat house in school and you threatened not to return my body. Seriously Greg wtf...." "no...nooo....NOOO NOO PLEASE NOO. THATS NOT TRUE!" I yelled as i turned around to face the other seniors who looked at me negatively. "I WAS THE ONE T....." Scott interrupted me "What? What you gonna say again? That it was actually you who swapped bodies with me? And that you were actually the real bodybuilder? If you wanna lie Greg you should at least not lie in my face" "FUCK YOU SCOTT! YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! YOU SET ME UP!!!" I replied wildly. Turning to the main senior speaker hoping for some understanding "I HAVE PROOF MAN, SEE MY PHONE. I WAS THE ONE WHO WAS ASKING HIM TO RETURN MY BODY! FOR 2 FUCKING WEEKSSS!!!" Scott eyed me for a moment before tuning to the main speaker "Yes Greg i set you up. Because i had no choice anymore. You were constantly hounding me to swap back our bodies and even threatened to destroy the chovonic app once we swapped again. I had no choice but to bring this up to the higher authority. I always thought you were my brother Greg. Why would you do this to me?" We both hurled insults at each other for a moment before the main senior speaker yelled for silence. When the room was quiet again he spoke again. "Greg you are an insult to the honour of this frat house. You will be automatically expelled as of tml. But because on official school papers you have been admitted to this frat house you are allowed to stay for tonight" The senior than looked at Scott as i stood there still stunned. "Scott. Because of your selflessness to help a bro in need you will automatically be allowed access to the frat house's private pool area even though you are a junior here. I see that you also have a large and powerful body. I know some people who are in need of a fitness model. If your'e interested i could introduce them to you." Scott smirked before looking back at me. The council of seniors than started to get excited and there was alot of commotion. The swimmer senior than continued "However there is also the unofficial punishment to hand out" He lifted his brow as if in delight. "We have decided that you Greg, are a fucking dirty asshole that needs to be cleaned up properly. Scott, you have the honour. Let the punishment begin" The group of seniors went crazy with they're yelling while I looked at at Scott in total disbelieve. He simply raised his head and gave me a cocky smug. I was suddenly yanked from behind me. I tried to yell and resist but there wasn't much my small and weak body could do. I was pushed on a sofa where a group of boys clamped my arms and legs down with they're powerful thighs. I shook my head from left to right struggling as hard as i could. The guys were all moving around me laughing at my expense as i was quickly stripped naked. My pale skinny body lying there in humiliation. I tried to yell again but this time something squishy was forced into my mouth. I couldnt really see above me but it tasted salty. It came in and out of my mouth repeatedly. Before i can make sense of what was happening. I gazed up to see Scott, naked too in all his grandness doing a double bicep pose while sitting on my chest leaving me immobile and unable to escape while he continued to use his balls to put in my mouth or put it over my eyes. He than slapped my face with his giant cock and forced in down my throat shortly after. I swore i could choke at any moment. Saliva and precum was flowing out of my moth everytime he plunged his monster cock in. His moans got so loud that he eventually pulled out and while doing an aesthetically pleasing double bicep pose his cock burst out in the most powerful cum shot i had ever seen. Ropes after ropes of cum spilled out while he maintained his pose. Letting out a powerful roar his cum spilled all over the room including a large portion on my face while the seniors cheered enthusiastically. "CLEAN HIM CLEAN HIM CLEAN HIM!" The seniors chanted. Scott with his powerful thighs still pushing my body down came closer to my face. I couldn't help but cry while his hot breathe was felt on my face. It was so dominating and emasculating for me. I couldnt take the humiliation anymore. He than spread the cum all over my face symbolically cleaning me up and pushed his finger into my mouth making me suck it dry while i helplessly watched him smirk. With his face so close to mine i whispered like the pathetic pussy i was now with saliva and cum leaking all over my face "I helped you get the life and body you wanted....why would you betray me??" He blew another hot breathe onto my skin as his mainly scent filled my nose. "Well thats what bros are for.... Unfortunately Im not one." Lemme know your thoughts I think Scott is def gonna win Asshole of the year award tho
  21. goggletan

    Poker Face

    The giant creature was right in front of my face. I couldn't believe i was face to face with it. I looked at it firmly with my eye wondering how i was going to fit it all in my mouth. As impossible as i thought it was, I knew I could definitely be able to do it. Because after all, this giant piece of meat used to be my meat. I stared up at the man before me. He looked at me with a stern poker face hiding all his emotions behind a pair of sunglasses. I could only stare back at the reflection from his sunglass reflection looking at the pathetic skinny loser that is me right now. All I could make out was my pale skin covering my bony nerd body. Oh how i miss my old body as i glace from side to side looking at his broad muscular shoulders and buldgind pecs. At least I know he was still going to the gym regularly, thats a relief he's not wasting my hard earned body away. As you can probably tell i wasn't always this pathetic. I was once a champion sportsman as well as a top poker player representing my frat brothers. Oh at least i thought i was the top poker player. A week ago I got way too overconfident at a party where i was eyeing this hot chick. She was however attached to a skinny loser whom i challenged to a game of poker. If i win I get to fuck his girlfriend while he watches and i asked him what he wanted if he won. He said he wanted to be me. I thought it was a fucking retarded request. How the hell do you swap bodies with people? If i only knew..... I have to admit though. He was pretty good at the game. But most impressively was his poker face. He was good at hiding his emotions and he would only give his emotions away when he knew he won. Which was way too late for me. I dont know how he did it but after losing the game i was stripped of my entire body. My muscles, my good looks, my height...everything. And i did become him. It was terrible watching him pretending to be me. No one would believe that we swapped bodies and I had to watch him live the frat life i was meant to live. As much as he was great at his "poker face" he was also a fast learner and he literally became me. Walking down the school hallway with my iconic swag and speaking in my cocky tone of voice. I however couldn't get used to my new lower status as a loser nerd at the bottom of the college food chain. But i wasn't about to give up. I did whatever i could to get people to notice and help me. I contacted my frat brothers and tried to convince them, I tried talking to the girls who used to wanna be fucked by me so bad. They don't believe me now. But if i keep telling people someone will be bound to help me out! My luck started to turn around however when he approached me just 15mins ago. I was shocked because he told me he wasn't feeling happy in his new body and really wanted his old life back. Its almost like he was trying to beg me to swap our bodies back. The only way he claimed however we could transfer our essence was for me to suck the "muscles" out of him. From his cock. I had to ingest as much of his cum as i could. As disgusting as it sounded i was not about to let this opportunity slip me by. I want my body back no matter the cost. I couldn't see his eyes through his reflective sunglasses but by the sound of his sad emotions he seem like he really meant it. He dropped his pants and revealed the monster meat i had missed so much. Only this time i was pleasuring it. And oh do i know where all the sweet spots were. I fixated my eyes on the head and reach my tongue out gently making sure i got my saliva all over it. I lathered the head slowly occasionally wiggling my tongue resulting in soft moans from him. Stretching my mouth as large as i could i tried pushing his cock deeper into my mouth. Not even half way through and i already felt a slight urge to gag and i tried making muffled noises hoping to catch his attention. He calmly placed one arm over my head and the other on my already stretched mouth. "You do want your body back right stud boy? You do wanna go back to living your frat life again dont cha??" I tried saying it was too big but it came out as a few muffled noises as he now forcefully used the arm on my head to ruffle my hair before pushing my head deeper in. His other arm moved close to my lips as he squeezed a few fingers into my lips and tried to stretch my mouth larger. His pushes were starting to get faster and i was almost chocking on both his giant cock and my own saliva. He was pretty good at reassuring me with "c'mon stud boy, a little bit of pain for the high life again. Don cha miss the gym and your muscle life??" He was now pushing me deep down . I could feel with every thrust my urge to chock was greater. I closed my eyes and tear alittle from the heavy imapct of him pushing my head. It was seriously a rape. He was raping my face and all i could do was to kneel there powerless to stop him with my muffled noises that could only be directed at his monster cock. His moans got louder, faster and might i say sexier with every thrust and speed increase. With one final roar i could tell the floodgates were open. I braced myself for the eruption of mount vesuvius. His never ending cum envelop my mouth in ropes after ropes of creamy ambrosia filling my mouth up. I tried to let go of his cock and pull out. But he felt my resistance and pushed me further back in. "Now now stud boy you need to take as much of my monster cum for you to go back to what you were. You miss those days where everyone boy or girl were begging you to fuck them right? I was tearing and my mouth was as stretched as it could be. I could only protest with noises as i swallowed everything down. After what seemed like an eternity, he released my head and i fell backwards and collapsed from the entire ordeal with saliva, cum and sweat dripping all over my face. I finally awoke from my deep sleep. I was feeling groggy and my sight was still slightly blurry. As my vision sharpened i look down at myself. I then turned right and left to look at my arms. These skinny bony arms and pale white skin certainly wasn't my body. Hearing a sound from behind me I saw my old body doing a double bicep pose as he looked in the mirror. He noticed me and turned around "Hey youre awake bro. Just testing out my guns. Been missing em. How you doing in your old body?" I stared back at him in shock as i tried to get back on my feet. "Wait but this can't be happening! Im you! And you're me! We haven't swapped back!!" He shook his head slighly and walked towards me before patting my back "Bro the swap is done. You're just having fragments of my memory when you were inside my body. I have fragments of your memory too and i thought i was you" I scratched my head still confused. He was hard to tell as he was still wearing his sunglasses. I couldnt see his eyes but he sounded pretty convincing. I nodded back "Alright then. So is this swap finally permanent or will our memories continue to overlap?" He looked sternly back at me "The blowjob is what makes the swap permanent" He gave of a subtle but noticeable smirk after that comment. Looking back at him curiously i replied "What so funny?" Removing his sunglasses to reveal a completely smug and cocky face. "Nothing. Nothing funny at all.... " Thanks for reading Lemme know what you think of the story and the characters
  22. Chapter one is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13085-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake/ Professor Schnackenburg's mistake: Chapter Two Cody was the biggest bro at campus, and he knew it. He was tired of the weakling sissies at the college gym, who wanted to 'get some muscle tone' but 'not become too big'. Cody very much disagreed: There was no 'too much'. There was no 'big enough'. Never too much! Never big enough! He had joined The Steel Factory gym outside campus, since it had got the heaviest free weights in town. As he had spread the reputation of The Steel Factory, some of the other students had also began to work out there: Jess, Jill, Jack. And Magnussen. And Tim. He pushed the heavy barbell in a focused and disciplined bench press, and he could feel his blood run to his chest, giving him a bloody awesome pump. Some strange greenish phosphorescent light shone in from the windows, and seemed to lit up the night outside the windows. And thunderclaps. Was it thunder? or northern lights? Or something. He returned to his workout schedule. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. It was rather close to some of the buildings belonging to Arts and Humanities: The archeology students, the literature students, the historians... The only drawback with the location of The Steel Factory was, that the gay street began around the corner, and one gay bar faced the entrance to The Steel Factory. Cody liked to draw attention, but he didn't like to draw attention of gays. He preferred to draw the attention of female students like Jess and Jill. Jess. He became angry again. Jess. She had been his girlfriend for six months. He remembered the scent of her blonde hair, and her enthusiastic screams when he pounded her. Shit. He got a boner inside his training shorts. Well, if anyone commented, they knew he would hit them. He didn't expect anyone to comment. He felt insulted, when he saw Magnussen – the reasonably brawny Danish exchange student – work out with Jess across the room, over at the rowing machines. One day, he would tell Magnussen his mind. One day, he would give Magnussen a real thrashing, and prove who's the Alpha on campus. Jill, the brunette studying pharmacology, was sexy in a shy way, and when she was drunk at a party, she had confessed, that she was turned on by muscle, and she had worshipped him behind a sofa. He wanted to go further with Jill. Or conquer Jess and leave Magnussen in a pathetic little heap of shit, but he had to admit, that Magnussen had a good constitution when he arrived in the beginning of the academic year, and he had to admit, that Magnussen had got some real gains, as the term had went on. Or, he fantasised, he could persuade Jess and Jill into a threesome with him, and leave Magnussen destroyed. Yeah, like a real Alpha. Four boobs on him. Four hands exploring his quads and pecs. Two pussies eager for his Alpha cock. It sounded like a road accident outside the gym. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. Jack, on the other side, was a true friend. A real bro. Someone to rely on and trust. Fucking awesome stud, even if he hadn't got the same gains as Cody and Magnussen. If he and Jack had been gay, Cody had been willing to give head to Jack, but since they both now were straight as an arrow, that would never happen. Jill had called Jack and Cody 'a bromance' a couple of times, what that was supposed to mean. Everyone seemed to like Jack. Cody watched Jack help Tim over at the old fashioned pec-dec machine. Tiny Tim. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. Cody couldn't understand why Jack had to drag that little runt to the gym. Tim's presence just delayed their training schedule. Even if he was beginning to get the knack of how the machines worked, Tim hadn't used the free weights much, and he didn't achieve any gains to speak of. Subcutaneous fat was not the problem: Tiny Tim's abs were already visible when Jack brought him to the gym the first time, but it seemed like the shy kid couldn't pack on any brawn. Fuck! The little shrimp was, what was it, 20? But he looked like a scrawny 16 year old. Tiny Tim was dragging Jack and Cody down at the gym, but Cody hadn't been able to persuade Jack to leave Tim at the dorm. Fuck the little bugger. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. Jack went to fetch a glass of water, and left tiny Tim in the pec-dec machine close to Cody. He could hear commotion and kerfuffle downstairs and in the next room. A weird sound like a high-voltage electric current. It almost sounded like the women downstairs came. And men with deep voices having fun. Weird. Ought he to check out what was happening? The attention of everyone else turned to the entrance. Cody had a schedule to follow: Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. He returned the barbell to the rack. In the doorway into this room stood a man... a being... ...who would normally have seemed displaced, since he looked like something out of a sword-and-sorcery film. Normally, a muscular dude wearing a leather harness, a leather jockstrap, furs and boots would look camp and cheesy. Normally. The towering being that gazed at the gym members in the room was beyond normality and beyond everyday life: It exuded power – unlimited physical and supernatural power, and it knew it, as it watched the now shocked gym members. The short hair on its head was a sort of golden blond. Its steel-hard muscle mass bulged in all directions, arrogantly exposing its naked, sun-tanned flesh. It was surrounded by an overwhelming nimbus of martial virtue, masculinity beyond all limitations and an expectation to be obeyed by everyone. Its eyes were ice blue and commanding. Cody's mind began a silent insane ramble: YES! THAT was what he would like to achieve. He had aimed at the impossible: Though he was impressed by bodybuilders from the past, like Schwarzenegger who made all these cool old action films with bad special effects, and though he was impressed by modern mass monsters like Jay Cutler, Justin Compton and Dallas McCarver, he dreamed about going far beyond the results of these men, but he had never been able to visualise his ideal goals in any clear way. Now, the man... the Being... which stood in the doorway, looked like the embodiment of his innermost yearnings and most secret imagination. Cody shivered. Slowly, rational thought crawled through the throbbing, feverish and aroused revelry, which was his inner monologue: What was this man, this Being, this man-god doing at the gym? What was it doing here? How was this in any sense possible? Naked, sun-tanned flesh. Masculinity beyond all limitations. Unlimited physical and supernatural power. Cody moaned. He could hear Jack letting out a yelp. Even tiny Tim moaned. The Being did a side-chest. The eyes of all present persons widened. The Being faced Jess and Jill. It made a suggestive thrust of its hips, and the sound similar to high-voltage electricity, that Cody had heard earlier, was repeated. Two currents of unknown and unholy energies emitted from the Being's crotch, zapped Jill and Jess between their legs, and the girls sank down on their training benches, their eyes rolled up in the skull, their bodies spasmodically twitching, and their mouths emitting feminine noises of excitement. The lights in the ceiling went out, but the dim light from outdoor street lamps fell in from the windows. The room became illuminated by a greenish, sort of, phosphorescent light. Cody felt hurt. He, not the Being, was the one who would take Jess and Jill to formerly unknown heights of pleasure. But at the same he was impressed. He wanted to be like the Being, to take part in its power, to share its essence. The Being waved its hand, and the gym disappeared. It felt like a dream. He was outdoors. It looked like a vast natural reserve, the sea not far away. Brooks running through the landscape with fish. Forests, but not very thick forests. Tall powerful men from the past in armed combat. Men like him, or, rather, men like he wanted to be. Loyal friends, protecting each other in battle. Hunters... Oh fuck! Hunters defeating large predators with large teeth with their bare hands... Alpha's of today looked insignificant to these men from the past. And then the sound of waves. Waves rolling in. A wave of water. A... that sort of... a wall of water, what's it called? A tsunami. He was back at the gym. By the look of their faces, his male friends all had seen the vision. Their female friends were still spasming on the training benches. "Men of the younger world." It was the first time the god-man Being spoke since its arrival to the gym. Its voice suited the way it looked: Deep, very deep, resonant. A battle cry and the promise of male voluptiousness. "Men of the younger world. I have shown you the glory, that once was Anghra-Lemur, but which is now The Sunken Hundred. I have returned over the gulfs of time and space. The powers of Anghra-Lemur are rising, and they will leaven the present world, and throw it away. I am the present embodiment of Kortoth-Gnaah, war god of Anghra-Lemur. I embody the power of thousand thunder gods. I embody the power of thousand sun heroes. Mine is the war frenzy. Mine is the battle cry. I fill brave men with duty. I fill the humble fighters with courage. I wipe the cowards and the evildoers away. I will allow Anghra-Lemur to rise again, because the time is at hand. But I need the raw material for the new men of Anghra-Lemur. I need those willing and those suitable, to become like the warriors of the forgotten time. My strength will permeate the chosen. My power will pervade the willing. My thew will saturate the suitable, and I will bestow upon them the divine powers of the forgotten god-heroes. I am Kortoth-Gnaah. I am willing to bestow all this." It seemed like all of the men were held under a spell, making it impossible to talk, only to think. The Being turned around, watching all of them. Cody's heart raced. YES! To hell with the bloody modern world. Some sort of Conan-world came crashing in. He couldn't comprehend how or why or what, but he knew one thing: He wanted to be in. Kortoth-Gnaah, wargod of Anghra-Lemur, watched Jack a few seconds. Then he stretched out his big hands in the direction of Jack. A green glow intensified around his hands, and then a powerful beam emitted and engulfed Jack in a sea of green, translucent, crackling power. Jack regained his ability to speak. "FUCK! So good! Can't believe it! Fuck! Look at me! My size! Growing! Can't believe it! Pump! Power! Pleasure! These biceps! Fuck! My traps, my back, my...! Oh! So good! Empower me, Master! Imbue me with... Nnnn. Fucking... Can't... Master... Growing..." Jack's rambling words turned into yelps, moans and grunts as he became taller, heavier and more muscled. Jack tensed, flexed, grew, his eyes staring in disbelief, and clothes from The Sunken Hundred materialising around him." Cody's heart was a sledge-hammer. Fuck, yes. Best friend. Jack. Bro. Becoming like a fucking Conan, a fucking He-Man... No! Far, far beyond those imaginary characters! Bro, becoming... Cody couldn't find words. And soon, Cody thought, it was his turn to receive the same blessing. He shivered. His cock throbbed. He was still pumped from the workout, and his antecipation was growing. Soon. Like Jack. Or The Being. Like Kortoth-Gnaah. Big. Big beyond measure. Jack was still growing beside the water vending, when Korgoth-Gnaah turned his attention to other parts of the room. Cody looked in disbelief, when Kortoth-Gnaah faced Magnussen. No? It couldn't be possible? Not the man who stole Jess from him. The green glow around Kortoth-Gnaah's big hands grew again, and a beam struck Magnussen, who began to grow in the same manner as Jack had done. Magnussen reverted to his native language, which sounded as a string of guttural sounds, which probably fitted the situation quite well. Fuck. He hadn't connected Danes and vikings before, but Magnussen was turning into – perhaps not what vikings actually looked like – but into the popular imagination about them. It wasn't fair. Not Magnussen! Not the one who distract Jess. Jess... She was returning to consciousness, and saw what happened to Magnussen. When the transformation reached climax, she ran to Magnussen, put her arms around his waist, pressed herself close to him, and shouted: "Fill me with your little viking babies!" He would have his revenge. Soon, very soon, their Master would turn his attention in Cody's direction, and he would have the same brutal power, the same strength, or even more of it, and he would show Magnussen who's the Alpha among the Master's housecarls. Soon. Kortoth-Gnaah turned around. He looked in the direction of Cody. Cody smirked. He braced himself. He couldn't imagine how it would feel, but he knew it would be better than anything he could imagine, if the behaviour of Jack and Magnussen was anything to go for. Soon. Naked, sun-tanned flesh. Soon. Steel-hard muscle mass bulging in all directions. Soon. He could see the green shimmer building up around Kortoth-Gnaah's big hands again, as he watched Cody. YES! MASTER! ME! SOON! Masculinity beyond all limitations. Soon! The green flames intensifying. Cody closed his eyes and smiled. Soon. Unlimited physical and supernatural power. Soon. Cody swallowed, and braced himself for the incoming impact of the transforming, empowering rush of supernatural force. Soon. Nothing happened, but he could hear the familiar crackling sound of unnameable and unholy power in the air close to his bench. He opened his eyes. NO! Not tiny Tim! Not the shrimp. Not the scrawny hardgainer. Not the little runt. The little runt wasn't a little runt, anymore. A broad-shouldered behemoth bellowed in the pec-dec machine with his legs broad apart. Things didn't go as Cody had expected, and he fell into dark despair: An icy cold awareness arose that he wasn't one of The Master's chosen. Chapter Three is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13105-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-three/
  23. goggletan

    The Product

    Jun 3 A week later, Jun 10 A month later, Jul 8 More than a month later, Aug 20 3 weeks Later Sep 9 The same day Sep 9 Brad's Place 11.30PM The door bell rang while an excited Brad rushed to open his door. What awaited at his doorsteps was the epitome of perfection itself. The greek gods themselves would have been embarrassed to even compare themselves with Chad. He showed hardly any emotion except for a few smirks occasionally as he flexed and posed his body in the moon light knowing all too well with every image of his muscles and cocky attitude he was controlling Brad. Brad proceeded to touch the bodybuilder's chest before him while Chad stared him down. Brad could feel all that muscles, all that solid hard muscles. He than moved his fingers up to Chad's shoulders and caressed his awesome biceps. It was just amazing. Brad had spent months paying for all of Chad's supplements and protein for Chad to become the super god he was tonight. And in his heart Brad knew it was all worth it as he inspected his other body parts to notice what an amazingly toned and fit stud he had created. Chad simply pushed Brad to the side arrogantly and let himself into the house, he took of his sunglasses and skimpy stringers and looked towards Brad "Lets just get it done. I'm doing my chest and shoulders tml" Brad closed his front door and moved close to the super stud. He slided his fingers from Chad's shoulders down to his palms. He than squeezed his palms and held his hands. He then led him through the darkness into a separate room. "Why are your lights off bitch?" Chad voiced out "I had to use my remaining money to pay for your protein and gym membership Sir.." Brad replied Chad snicked before asking "Was it worth it doing all these for me? Even giving me the rest of your muscles now? "YESSIRRRRR" Brad replied. "Good Boy" Chad smirked to himself in the darkness. "Now take this pill and swallow it" Brad handled something small into Chad's hand as he heard Chad placing it in his mouth and swallowing it. Brad than put his hands behind Chad's head and pushed the young studs face to his own in the darkness while both men locked lips for a few minutes. Both tongues struggled for dominance and there lips felt each others faces. "Trust me Sir. you will be huge and beastly. Now get on the bed in the position" Brad instructed. Chad felt his way in the darkness with only the glimmer of light coming from a window opposite the bed he was lying on doggie style. From the window he could see a street light but still it was very dark. He knew he had to do this. A little bit of discomfort for a much bigger reward as he could feel Brad's cock feeling his asshole. "Maybe i should use some lube Sir. A min Sir" Brad said as he pulled out slowly. Chad could hear some noises from behind him but could only see what was happening outside of the window. Brad returned and slowly felt his cock around Chad's asshole. It was slimy from the lube but it slid into Chad's man hole perfectly. Brad than slowly but surely begin thrusting his meat in. The more he pushed the more both men moaned. Chad had never felt such sensation being a top and fucking only pussy. Never had he realized anal pleasure to feel so incredible. The feeling of a warm dick in your hole was simply sensational. He couldn't stop to think about anything else. With a final thrust Brad let out a loud moan as his hot cum begin to flood into Chad. Similarly an explosively new feeling for Chad, to feel the cum flow from his anus to the other parts of his body. He could already start feeling the transformation. The veins from his arms were already starting to feel warm and he knew he was bulking up with more muscles than he ever knew. Chad looked up at the window while Brad was slowly sliding his cock out of him. Only something wasn't right. Because Brad was looking back at him from outside the window, outside the room... The street light from the outside illuminated Brad's face as he gave off a sneaky smirk. Chad quickly turned behind him while a car passed by just in time to illuminate the whole room to see that a completely different person was behind him all this time. Behind him stood a small man. Short skinny and pale. He looked slightly malnourished with a less than great hairstyle and two black ear studs on his ears. The small man grinned to himself before patting his small but erected cock with cum leaking from it. The carlight quickly faded to engulf the room in darkness again. Chad attempted to feel his way around the room but with his veins filling with the warm cum he started to feel weak. He was easily pushed back onto the bed. He couldn't tell who was in the room now as his mind started to wonder and he was trying not to close his eyes. All he could hear were two voices as he helplessly struggled. "I expect payment to be made in two days time" "yea dont worry i'll get it done as soon as this is over, so how'd you get him to come anyway?" "It was easy, you gotta suck up to him and make him feel powerful. Call him sir and shit. When he's at his highest point you fuck him up like what we just did. Me leaving the room and you coming in to deposit your cum in him." "That went pretty smooth hahaha. Lube my ass ahahha. So hows his body like now?" "Way bigger than most bodybuilders man. Don't worry i choose to execute my stock only when i know they're ripe and ready for plucking" "He better be, I spent a fortune on all his supplements and shit" "Well, they paid off now. You have your dream body now man. Anyways suck his dick dry now while the pill is still in his system. The more cum you drink the better. Oh! And introduce me to your other friends who are looking to buy a body too...." Blackness engulfed Chad as he lay there on the bed feeling thick lips on the head of his erected cock. Before long he passed out from exhaustion.... A Month Later Sep 10 Lemme know your comments. How'd you feel about the characters? And let me end this story by saying "If your not paying. You are the PRODUCT"
  24. goggletan

    Donation (Part 2)

    Link for Part 1 below , i tried to write it in a way where you didn't need to read Part 1 but not sure if it works. Anyways after posting the short story(Part 1) i had people asking me to continue it via a different character POV / continuation on their characters, so thought ill give it a try I looked around me carefully first. I had to make sure no one else was in the room watching me. After a few seconds of confirmation that i was the only person in the locker room i excitedly opened the bag before me. I didn't have much time so i had to be as quick as i could. I knew Vince took quick showers after the gym. I could smell the distinctive musky gym and protein powder smell coming from his bag. It was such a turn on. I could see all his jock equipment inside together with his clothes. I brought his stringers and boxers to my nose and took a few deep breathes. How it smelt like heaven, what an honor to rub your face on the clothes that a champion Mr Olympia bodybuilder wore daily. Simply heaven! An idea poped up in my mind and I searched around the room and found a mirror. Never in my wildest fantasies would i thought of giving this a try. I took of my sweaty underwear and shirt and instead put on his clothes and looked at myself in the mirror. I tried striking the hottest pose i could do. Squeezing my small cock into his jockstrap that made my dick look huge i tried to look as sexy as possible in the mirror. "Damm do i look great. If only i could have his body... Well since im in his clothes i can fantasize that i am in his body right?" Still not satisfied, i rummaged through his bag and spotted his flashy iconic sunglasses. I put them on too and tried striking a double bicep pose while admiring myself in the mirror. I tried squeezing my biceps as hard as i could hoping, just hoping that i could even at the slightest, look as identical as Vince as i could. To be a champion bodybuilder Mr Olympia just like Vince... As i stared back at the image before me i tried to imagine what i would look like without all the fat and blob and what i would look like having a champion bodybuilder's body, or rather Vince's bodybuilder body... Its a strange feeling, but i felt so complete wearing Vince's clothing. I was always a large kid and growing up i became even larger. Not on the muscle side but on the fat side. I always felt that this wasn't my body. And recently in the past month i had been obsessed with the bodybuilder lifestyle. For some reason or another i desired to wear what those beastly bodybuilders wore in the gym, i tried to mimic their cocky attitudes and speak to myself in the mirror. When i walk past the gym im so tempted to go in there and do a few sets of bicep curls. I didn't understand why but I felt so at home being in a bodybuilders clothes surrounded by his stink and sweat. It was amazing. It felt so natural... So engaged i was being in Vince's clothes that i didnt realize his reflection in the mirror. I turned around looking shocked and my jaw dropped. He looked at me curiously for a moment eyeing me up and down. Before asking "The hell you doing in my clothes you fat fuck?" I froze and started to shake, terrified of what he was going to do to me. To incur the wrath of a Mr Olympia bodybuilder was something on a completely different level. I placed my hands on my face hoping not to get hit and closed my eyes. It was a terrifying few seconds of silence. "Get the fuck out of my clothes you fat fuck" spoke Vince in the most arrogant way he could put it. I opened my eyes to see him raise a brow. I quickly lifted the stringers off my flabby body and took of the boxers before handing it back to him. He took the boxers and immediately threw them into the bin a few inches away. "If you think im gonna wear that after being in contact with your shrimp of a dick you are solely mistaken" I gulped while watching him wear the stringers over his body. He was a total god. A total muscle god. I just wished i could touch his shoulders, feel his thick pecs and lay my fingers on his abs. It just felt so right. His body was just perfect. Staying silent i hurriedly wore my own underwear trying not to show him too much of my baby dick. "I know youve been following me for the past month you crazy stalker.... And i don't blame you." said Vince in his typical calm voice. I stayed silent still unknowing what he wants. Vince flexed his right bicep and gave it an awesome kiss. He then licked his overgrown bicep in the most cocky way he could letting it shimmer in the light. He then stared me down arrogantly "You want this don't you fat boy" I blew my load. Trying to contain my moan, my eyes betrayed me as they rolled back in ecstasy. The stain on my underwear grew quickly as Vince begin noticing. I shot my last rope of cum before i came back to my senses and realizing what an embarrassment i was watching Vince tearing me apart with his arrogant laughter. I broke into tears as i dropped whatever i had to grab my belongings attempting to make a run for it. "Thats for wearing my clothes you sick fuck. Dont you ever dare touch my stuff ever again fucking fatso!" To hear him say and act in such a demeaning way was the last humiliation straw i could take. "How could anyone play such a cruel prank on another human being? Knowing full well I would be turned on by your body. Youre such a cruel person, you dont deserve this body..." I yelled back at him He showed little emotion before revealing a smirk "Believe me fatty you want cruel pranks? I'll give you cruel pranks... 2 Hours Later I spent close to an hour crying in my own bathroom. To survive under such a cruel prank was no easy feat. I had never before face such humiliation and degradation. It was even worst when you receive that treatment from someone whom you idolize. It was a terrible feeling... A ring came from my phone and i realized it was from an app called SWAPER. It was an app that helped find people willing to "donate" bodies to others as well as people who wanted a different body. Both parties however had to agree to having their bodies swaped. It could take ages, even years to find someone willing to swap because lets face it. Which fashion model with the perfect face or gym bodybuilder with the broad shoulders would wanna swap with any loser out there? I just shrugged that thought out wondering who it could be.. I open the app and was shocked.... It was him. It was Vince! But why would this mother fucker be so willing to trade bodies with me? I just didn't understand.... He said liked cruel pranks. But the only cruel prank that could happen from this is him... It was a risk i was willing to take. I took a deep breathe and pressed the swap button..... "BEEP! BEEP!! BEEP!!!" Never intended to create a part 2 so not too sure if the story flowed. But lemme know... Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed
  25. Chaps, forgive me for this one: 1) it contains some fetishy stuff that I'm really into and I'm using this story as a gauge to see how many other are (talking about the chest hair eating scene, and some fo the more violent moments tbh) 2) I was so horned up writing this as it's based on a real encounter that some spelling errors, subject-verb non-agreement is to be expected. Devour and enjoy -------------------------- I’m rather nervous. I had met up with Alan a few times in previous years for reciprocal muscle worship sessions and this was the first time that there was likely to be an interruption to ordinary proceedings. We would go a few months without seeing one another, live our regular lives of family commitments, work and a small proportion of leisure, the whole while never letting a single day go by without longing for and fantasising over each other’s swollen muscular physique and the phenomenal sex we had together whilst admiring and worshipping ourselves and one another. It was the best sex either of us ever had, and that fact was acknowledged whilst never said aloud. Almost formulaically we would meet outside the train station and shake hands. Nothing about our encounter looked anything other than friendly or professional. Walking to the hotel we had booked for the long weekend we would engage in small talk, before checking in, grabbing two black coffees from the reception bar and heading upstairs. As soon as the door was closed and the locks bolted though, the real business began. Generally to begin with I would be the aggressor of the two, grabbing Alan’s face in my beefy powerful hand and thrusting my thick juicy tongue down his thirsty throat as I pushed him fiercely against the wall of the room. I would then rip off my shirt and begin flexing for him. Throwing Alan down onto the bed I would straddle him with one enormous leg while shoving my flexed biceps peak in his face and watch as he popped a rapid boner in his pants. Once the initial foreplay was over we would take our luggage into separate corners of the room and get out the various accoutrements that we had both brought to the meeting. Like clockwork I would strip and get into my sexy, miniscule pair of red posing trunks that made my cock shake from side to side as I walked, and Alan into a more conservative blue pair so as not to distract the judges from his muscles by drawing their eyes to his manhood (as an exhibitionist I had no problem with that scenario). The physical difference between Alan and me was always considerable (although never quite like this time) so the first thing we ever had to do was shave me down. I am a 6”7 hirsute bear, covered in thick black fur from my neck all the way down to my toes, and one of the most enjoyable and sensual parts of any of our meetings would be when I throw a towel down onto the bed after a quick jump into a hot shower, and Alan lathered my muscular hairy bod in shaving cream before removing every last hint of hair from my enormous frame. As he did it there were intermittent breaks that we took (as the task itself lasted around an hour)- I found the experience of being shaved such a massive turn on that I would normally cum 7 or 8 times during, and Alan couldn’t resist the sight of me face down for so long without occasionally stopping his shaving to eat me out. In spite of my large, round muscular glutes, my anus is so tiny as to be almost invisible (lucky guys right?) so it would take him some time to get in there and open me up. When Alan flipped me over to do my front I would invariably have an erection which he would take it upon himself to tend to as I twisted my large hard nipples thinking of how enjoyable the following 2 days would be. I would cum, either in his mouth or all over his handsome daddy face, and then he would resume shaving my stomach and chest. By the end of this procedure there was a football sized ball of hair clumped together with shaving cream which, after washing to remove the cream, Alan and I fed to each other in a haze of orgasmic bliss. Afterwards the idea of consuming my body hair with someone would have struck me as odd, but at the time it made total sense and we both felt as though we were ingesting something beautiful, masculine and sexy. Then came my highlight of the event (although not Alan’s)- the bodybuilding contest. The two of us, now ready for show in our brightly coloured posers would role play as bodybuilding competitors, exaggerating the parts of the competition that got us most aroused such as the arrogant posturing, the flexing backstage, and finally the posedown where the testosterone of the big brutes really showed in their aggressive posing and shoving one another out of the way. We took it in turns to be the victor, and then we would fuck for the first time. As a power bottom who enjoys nothing more than being used and humiliated by alphas, it was always Alan fucking me, no question, and in the contests where he won he would use the fuck as a means of asserting his superiority, and in the years he lost he would angrily the-fuck me for stealing his 1st place trophy. I preferred the latter, because it would usually involve more humiliation. He would always grab hold of my cock tightly, squeezing all the blood from it so that I was never erect, in spite of being so aroused that I couldn’t even see or form sentences. When it was time for a post-contest hate fuck my shaving routine was slightly different in that he would leave some patches of hair on my body, and whilst his cock was inside me rupturing my internal passages with its reckless disregard for my godly body, he would lick my armpits and rip the hair from them with his teeth causing me to cry out in ecstatic pain. He would also bite my nipples, which became juicier and more engorged throughout the ordeal of being pounded by this angry, enraged musclebull. My nipples would begin to swell and hurt from being so abused, but if I got an erection or attempted to touch my own cock, Alan would slap me like a bitch and remind me that my body is his, and not for my own pleasure. He would command me to pose for him as he fucked me, so I, lying on my back totally dominated, weak and worthless, would flex my biceps and lats for him as he unendingly pounded my back passage and ruined me. After my lat spread he would dive back into and rip all the remaining hair from my body with his teeth, which caused me indescribable pleasure, even though all the while I had a totally soft cock that just lay limp and useless as Alan’s threats of violence should I enjoy this fuck had convinced him to stay flaccid. Throughout the fucking the only breaks he would take from destroying my hole would be to remove his cock, allow it to go a bit softer, and launch streams of hot piss, mixed with sticky precum, all over me to remind me of just how subservient I was to him. I would rub this hot stinky mixture all over my body, writhing around enjoying the overwhelming combination of smells, noises and sensations that this encounter was made up of. Then as soon as I had been humiliated with piss, my humiliation by fucking would recommence. Ultimately Alan would cum, but it took him a long time. As he felt it was getting nearer his bucking wold become more intense and powerful, making me acutely aware that until that point only about 2/3 of the magnificent and vascular cock had been inside me. As he neared orgasm the entire instrument would enter and as I moaned in agony he would cover my mouth with his hand or stuff it with bedsheets so I could not distract him from his work. The final few thrusts were when he would unleash his hot thick deposit and with each one he would slap either my pecs, balls or face as a display of just how little respect he had for the man beneath him, who was essentially nothing more than a tissue or bucket to contain his sperm. “That’s what you fucking get you little wet pussy bitch!” He would scream as he finished fucking me, “next year I’m gonna beat your punk ass on that stage and you’re gonna think about how I've degraded you twice in this room. When I pull out I’d better not see any of my cum fall out, you know how I like it.” With a wicked smirk he yanked his entire 12 inches from within me and I rapidly sealed by anus shut. Still clenching tightly I got off the bed and went to squat in the middle of the marble floor of the room and let the entire contents of my ass go limp, covering the floor in Alan’s glorious discharge. As it dripped out my own cock became hard and rather than masturbating it directly, I decided to insert my hand into my ass and play with my g-spot until cumming spontaneously. Now out of character, lovely Alan came over to me and swallowed the entire lot as it flew out. We lay together in the pool of liquid covering the floor, making out and straddling each other’s bodies. But something was likely to be very different this time around; you see the entire basis of our relationship was fantasy. We were both skinny men who had had the fortune to discover a shared passion for bodybuilding in spite of not being actively involved, or even working out at all. Make believe was the cornerstone of these amazing encounters, but now it didn’t have to be. At least not for half of it. For the entire year since Alan and I had last met, I had been seriously diving into bodybuilding and finally getting to grips with words like macros, BCAAs, bench record etc. It turned out that my body had responded remarkably and in spite of standing at over six and a half feet in height, I had put on an impressive amount of muscle. I decided not to tell Alan, and to dress in thick layers on the walk to the hotel, so as to surprise him. I just can’t wait to show him the amazing bodybuilding physique under this coat!
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