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Found 34 results

  1. 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 Chapter 24 Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets February 10th, 2022 2100 Hours Casey and Sam were close together now, each intent upon the other, Sam sitting calmly, Casey nervous, towering over him, his huge dick released from his trousers. lying on the table between them. “You …you don’t think I’m a freak?” “I think you’re beautiful,” said Sam. Casey stared at him, and then blurted it out. “Okay, well, then, would you mind, I mean, is it okay if you suck on this awhile?” He shifted back and forth on his feet nervously. This surprised even Sam. “What?” “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but, you see, I really need to get it sucked by someone new, someone from the outside, ‘cause when the guys here suck cock, we all do it together, you know, in a big room or the lab or the gym or the cafeteria or for Dr. Shaft at his house, or for investors…” “Investors?! Wait. This is a lot of information. Slow down.” “Sorry.” “You…. all suck cock here? Each other’s cocks?” “All the time. Daily. Once in the morning, once late at night. Sometimes after training. Sometimes at lunch. Sometimes before dinner. Sometimes after dinner. Sometimes during dinner.” He paused. The words were rushing out. “We suck cock a lot.” “Why?” Casey shrugged. “We like it. Don’t you?” Sam had to admit that he did. “And it’s good for cum production. We each shoot about three quarts a week.” “That’s impossible.” “Not for us. Yeah. We do. On slow weeks.” “Zaftig said you don’t have sex.” Casey snorted. “Yeah, right, dude, he would say that. Sex is what we’re made for.” “Come again?” “It’s what we’re made for.” “What does that mean?” “It means we’re made to fight, fight hard, win, and make our defeated enemies suck our cocks. Then we pose for them. Then we kill them.” He paused. “Or, we’re supposed to, anyway. In theory.” “Shit. Fight, win, get sucked, kill, pose?” “No. Fight, win, pose, get sucked…. kill. But we never have yet. Though we’ve come close. Sometimes we beat the investors up. A little. If they want it…” This was getting weird. Exciting, crazy, nuts, wild, but weird. “Okay, go back a second.” Casey shifted his weight again, and his heavy cock dragged audibly along the tabletop. Sam stared at it. “As I said, go back a little…. who are these investors?” But Casey had caught his look. He pointed to his dick, now lying flat and at rest on the tabletop, lying still like an enormous thick snake. “At least touch it. Put your hand on it. Touch it. Stroke it. Make it warm.” He took Sam’s hand and clapped it firmly on the massive round shaft. “Play with it. Make it hard.” He paused, then added, seeming to plea. “Please?” “Okay.” Sam stared a moment up at Casey. “Okay,” he said, after a moment. “If this is what you want.” He put his hand on the penis. It sure was big. Like a fleshy log. And warm. And very thick. And covered with veins. An amazing machine. “Please. Play with it. Play with my dick. Just for a minute.” Just for a minute? How about an hour? How about for the next ten years? This was going better than Sam had dared to dream. “Sure. But you gotta do something for me.” As if Casey wasn’t fulfilling every dream he’d ever had. “Flex for me.” He started to stroke the big cock lightly with the back of his fingers. Casey jumped a little at his first touch. Then Sam looked up at him, suddenly tense, ready, watching. “Wait. You make your opponent suck your cock, and then you kill him?” “Oh. Oh! Don’t worry!!” Casey extended his hands pleadingly. “We haven’t killed anyone. Yet. I mean, the dudes fight a lot. Karim hands out a lot of black eyes. But I wouldn’t hurt you. I wouldn’t want to hurt your little finger!” To prove his point, suddenly he gently grabbed the back of Sam’s head and pulled him towards him, planting a long passionate kiss on him. Sam couldn’t have been more surprised, but he kissed back. They locked lips and their tongues explored each other’s mouths. All the while, Sam kept gently stroking Casey’s penis. It grew stiff under his hand. Finally they parted, and Casey sat back, looking deeply into Sam’s green eyes, Sam’s hand resting gently on the thick barrel of penis on the table between them. “Look. See, I really wanted to meet you after I heard about you, I’ve wanted to meet you a long time, for more than a year, but I can never get a pass or get out alone, and I didn’t know you anyway, and you would have thought I was strange or something, and I didn’t know where you lived…” As the words tumbled out, his penis grew larger and stiffer under Sam’s probing, gentle fingers. Slowly it began to rise from the table surface. “You see, all the men said that you were the best cocksucker anywhere, and I knew if I could meet you first before they did, then you could suck my cock first, and for once I’d have something over them, and then maybe they wouldn’t fuck me so hard.” Sam was appalled. “Wait. WAIT. Slow down.” His mind reeled. What to ask first? “They fuck you? “ “Yeah. They all fuck me. They fuck me hard.” Casey’s penis was now poling towards the ceiling. “Where did you hear I was such a great cocksucker?” “Well, they all say that.” Sam had to acknowledge that this was probably true. He let it go. “What do you mean, you all suck cock for Dr. Shaft??!” “Once a month a couple of vans take us all to his house and we party awhile. Usually we wind up sucking cock while Shaft watches us and beats off.” “And they fuck YOU? “Yeah! They all get to fuck me. Me and now Tiffany, too. I changed that. I fucked him first.” Casey smiled, and an evil glint appeared in his eye as he recalled the night. Then he continued. “Sometimes the younger guys come along if I’m tired or something and they fuck them instead. But me, mostly me, I get it more than anyone. Everyone gets to fuck me – well, not the cadets, they’re not allowed to. And I don’t get to fuck anyone! I’m supposed to be buttboy! When we’re at Dr. Shaft’s first he sucks my cock. Then they all take turns and suck my cock – except the cadets, they don’t have the privilege yet, but I think a few of them get to suck Moster’s cock in his quarters sometimes. He really needs it. And when I shoot, they measure how much I cum. I’m not supposed to shoot until all 19 men have sucked me. Sometimes I cum early. When that happens,……” Casey paused. “What?” asked Sam, disbelieving. “…. . then they make me start over with Dr. Shaft again.” “Wow.” “Yeah, wow. I hate his cock. It’s so little! Someday I’m gonna beat the shit out of him. I would kill him with one punch. Pow!” “Easy.” “I’m sorry.” “No, I mean you would kill him easy.” “I would! It all pisses the shit out of me. Then they fuck me. Shaft watches. Two, three times each. My asshole hurts. It pisses me off!” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m gonna run away,” he confided. This was getting dangerous. Sam was on guard now. But he had to know. “Why do they fuck you?” he asked. “Why me?! I’ll show you why me!” He turned around and bent over, his perfect butt now in Sam’s face. He slid the jeans down his hams. He kicked them off and stood, his back to Sam, his fists buried in his obliques, jutting out his butt. It was an incredible ass. Two round globes of muscular golden flesh, perfect, hard-as-nails ovals of sleek construction. Powerful, huge, an incredible human loading dock of rounded power. Inside the darkened buttcrack Sam could see close-up the throbbing, inviting deep of Casey’s perfect butthole. It did, however, appear as if it could use a rest. And yet…. it also looked as if it might never get tired. Sam closed his eyes and for a moment he envisioned a lineup of 19 muscle men, each awaiting the business of the hard-pumping man at the head of the line, and in time, all taking their turn with this bodybuilder’s magnificent young ass. Fucking, fucking, fucking, shooting quarts of cum, the first man stepping aside, the next men stepping up and inserting his own stout pole into the welcoming red butthole. Fucking, fucking, fucking. Fucking muscle butt. “…. Do you enjoy it? ….” Casey considered a minute. He glanced back over his shoulder at Sam. He gulped - and then he went for it. He extended his arms straight ahead, bent over forward from the waist, and grabbed his ankles. “What do you think?” he asked sadly. *********** Meanwhile, down the corridor, Moster was addressing the muscular young cadets in his private compound suite. “Okay, men,” said Moster breezily, “suppose one of you tells me the real reason you’re here. Cadet Banks, you seem to be the spokesman. Suppose you talk.” The teen cadets stood shyly before Moster, their hands at ease behind their backs, their legs spread wide. He strode between them and inspected their supple young physiques. He was wear his black leather poser again, the top eight inches of his cockshaft fully exposed from the root, plunging down to the floor with pulsing veins, disappearing into black leather. His testicles filled the pouch to bursting. Taylor was trying hard not to stare. “You looking at my cock, cadet?” “No, sir.” “Bullshit.” “We just wanted to make sure you were not displeased, sir,” offered Banks. “Displeased? No, I am not displeased.” He walked around the young men silently for a moment, inspecting. Nice bottoms, he thought, cleanly outlined in tight khakis. Firm. Quite spankable. Very fuckable. “How old are you boys?” “18” said Banks. “I’m 17,” said Taylor. “Old enough to know better than disturb me in quarters.” Then he ordered again. “Let’s see what you boys got. Drop trou,” he commanded. The two teens unbuckled their belts swiftly, unzipped, pushed, and in unison, their khakis hit the tops of their boots. They were each wearing clean white jocks. Both teens were already excited enough to present full pouches, but not so erect as to be overtly disrespectful. “Flex.” They eagerly did so. Young, hard, muscleboy biceps swelled and popped. Banks went smoothly into a side chest pose, of which he was justifiably proud. His young nipples pointed low as his balloon pecs were rounded high and with pleasant hints of future deep striations to come – if one could see beneath the thick black mat of chest hair. Taylor turned and went into a rear lat spread. His wide young batwings opened to their fullest, and his glutes pointed round, hard, and high. “Impressive. Good, solid teen muscle. You must enjoy fucking the local girls. You boys are making definite gains. Banks, I see you don’t shave your body.” Moster sniffed. “And you’re still smoking.” “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” “Quit. Bad habit. All the same, good work. Okay. That will be all. Dismissed.” He turned away. The boys didn’t see his smile. The cadets dropped their poses, glanced at each other in alarm. Taylor gestured. “Ask him!” he mouthed furiously. Banks spoke again. “Sir, we were hoping…. that is….” “Yes, Banks?” Taylor blurted it out. “We were hoping you’d pose for us, sir.” Moster had to smile in spite of himself. The effrontery! Still, such a request in two such young men was not uninteresting. “You’d like me to pose for you. I see.” Banks smirked a little. Moster caught it, and his face went blank, the smile disappearing. “Why, I suppose I might spare a few minutes.” “…Are you certain you are not in need of….” Moster raised an eyebrow. “…. . releasing some personal tension, sir?” “I told you that I am not tense.” “Respectfully begging the CO’s pardon, sir, it would appear that you are, all the same, in need of some therapeutic stress reduction, sir.” “Are you being impertinent, cadet?” “No, sir! Sir, I……. sir…. .” Banks looked helpless for a moment. It was Taylor who finally spoke. “Sir, requesting permission to speak freely, sir.” “Well, what is it?” “Sir, we desire that you should spank us both, sir.” “Why would you want that?” “Sir, to make you feel better, sir. And after that, sir, we’d like to take turns sucking your dick.” “I see. This is for my benefit. This display of teen muscle and firm cadet butt. And I am to pose for you. After a good spanking. Right? That it? All right. Let’s get started, then. Banks, you’re up first.” Moster turned back and pulled out a solid blue steel low bench he reserved for the application of his sternest spankings. He sat, and adjusted his relaxed 14-inch black cock in the black leather so that it snaked heavily across the top of one thigh. He gazed at the boys, and raised both arms into a front double biceps. Pow. BAM. “Like what you see, boys?” “Yes, sir!” breathed Taylor. Moster laughed. “28 inches. Get your butts over here. Banks, you're up first.” Moster grinned with grim satisfaction. "I've been wanting to teach your greaser butt a lesson for some time now." Banks approached eagerly, and Moster ignored his obvious puppy dog joyousness at being initiated before his time. “Over my knee, cadet,” he ordered. “Yes, sir!” Banks flung himself over Moster’s powerful knees. He felt the CO’s heavy warm cock pressed thickly against his abs. He arched his back slightly and tilted his butt up to the ceiling all to better receive his punishment. Slowly Moster raised his powerful arm high and opened his hand wide. His palm itched. He checked out the healthy, firm jockbutt that lay submissively across his knees and nodded, satisfied. “Very good work, cadet,” he said, and lowered his hand with firm swiftness. SMACK! Taylor jumped. Banks moaned. “These glutes look good,” said Moster. “Thank you, sir!” Then, SMACK! again, and again, and again. “Powerful, ripe, and firm,” Moster praised the cadet. “OOOHHhhhh…” moaned Banks. SMACK! Moster paused a little. “Why, anything the matter, cadet?” “It hurts, sir!” “What hurts?” “My butt, sir! It stings, sir!” Moster’s palm was calloused and heavy from years of spanking the men. He raised his hand again and planted another stingingly loud smack onto Cadet Banks’ increasingly reddening firm young butt cheeks. “Of course it stings,” he said. “What did you expect?” …. Spank!……. Spank!. . . . . . . . . Spank!…. Some minutes later, it was Taylor’s turn to lie meekly over Moster’s knees. His legs dangled helplessly in the air. Moster reviewed the teen’s muscular butt with approval. “You boys have developed fine flanks for yourselves,” he opined, and began to spank. The blows feel on firm glutes again and again, achieving an even, unyielding, implacable rhythm. …. Spank!……. Spank!. . . . . . . . . Spank!…. Spank!. . . . . . …. Beneath his abs, Taylor felt Moster’s thick penis stiffening…. harder, larger, heavier, weightier…inconceivably big. After 20 spanks, Taylor stood, rubbing the red welts on his rear, tears in his eyes. He glanced at Banks. “You said this would be fun,” he hissed. “Well, ain’t it?” Banks gestured down at the seated CO. He pointed. “Just look at that!” Taylor turned and stared. Moster’s penis was enormous, an uncoiled black cobra lying half exposed, half enmeshed in his posers, atop an impossibly vascular, striated quadriceps. The mushroom-shaped head was the size of a ripe McIntosh apple, and the shaft as thick as a vein-lined fire hose. “Like what you see, cadets?” “Yes, sir!” said Banks. “Fuckin’ A,” said Taylor. “There will be time for you both to show your respect for my cock in a very few minutes. In the mean time, Banks, I believe it is your turn at bat?” Moster alternated spanking the two young cadets, back and forth, for several minutes. During Banks’s second turn over the CO’s knee, Taylor stood waiting respectfully in the corner, his hand rubbing the red welts on his smooth, bright red, hard ass cheeks. After Taylor came Banks again, and this time Moster disciplined him even harder for not shaving his buttcheeks, spanking tough boy Banks for a full three minutes longer than he spanked Taylor for his second turn. It was what Banks had hoped for. Tomorrow was leg day, and he planned on training his stinging glutes as hard as he could. Tonight was all about glute-building inspiration. Moster had been spanking the two men alternately for about 20 minutes. Spank! Spank! “Next time, think twice before banging on my door at ungodly hours,” he said firmly. Spank! Spank! SPANK!! Six minutes later he finished with Taylor, and pushed him off. Taylor rolled heavily onto the floor and brought both hands up tenderly to his stinging butt. He crawled away. Moster gestured impatiently for Banks to step forward and receive his fourth punishment. Banks hung back, apprehensive, in spite of himself. “Get your candyass little butt over here before I come over there and drag you by your hair, you fucking greaser.” Banks trotted over, his head bowed, his hands behind his back. He lay across Moster’s knees once again. His red butt throbbed painfully. Bright red handprints glowed on each buttcheek. “Spank me again, please, sir,” he said. Moster complied. He paddled Banks’ hard little butt stingingly for three solid minutes more. The sounds of his palm slapping the cadets’ hardened musclebutts echoed down the corridor. In his darkened quarters, Corporal Schumacher lay in his bed and listened intently, his shorts around his knees and his cock poling high to the ceiling. He jerked off hard at the sound. Moster sure was busy tonight. “Uuunnngh!” he roared, and he shot ropes of thick cum onto his abs, his gism leaping into the darkness and falling, splashing his abs. At the other end of the corridor, Alvarez, Lang and Hension were still feverishly posing, flexing, and sucking one another’s cocks, musically accompanied by the drumbeat of distant spanks. In his suite, Casey paused in his story to Sam. The loud spanks were echoing throughout the compound. Both looked towards the corridor door. “What’s that?” “Sergeant Moster is probably spanking some butt. He likes to do that.” “Oh.” Sam turned back to Casey, huge in his chair, hulking, self-conscious suddenly at his enormous size when sitting next to the handsome, lean-muscled Ensign. Sam spoke delicately. “Go on about that LA field trip. ” “Okay. We get worship sessions in San Francisco and LA. Some young tech stars and a few movie people. Dudes with money. Real money.” “They pay you to flex.” “Yeah. And, um, more, too.” All in all, Moster devoted 30 minutes to the firm paddling of cadet butts. At the end, Moster’s cock was just as hard as it had been 31 minutes before. His erection hadn’t wavered an instant, or by so much as a millimeter. He stood, pushing Banks off his knees and onto the floor, bent over and rolled Taylor over onto his back. Then he kicked Banks into position. Both men were now under him, and facing up. He lowered his posers in the back so that his magnificent rock hard glutes were exposed. He slowly lowered himself into a squat, hovering just a foot over Banks’ face. “This is an ass,” he announced, perhaps unnecessarily. Banks stared hungrily at the musclebutt suspended over him. He reached his tongue out and tried to lick, but Moster held it steadily above him. “This is big, black, big muscle ass,” Moster repeated, and he rotated his body until his ripped musclebutt was looming over Taylor’s face. "Hard as rock." Taylor, too, tried to lick, to no avail. For five minutes, Moster squatted over the heads of the cadets. He farted softly, breezily in their faces. They took it in. He bobbed. He swayed. He dipped. He pulled apart his ass cheeks. He showed them his pink, vibrating asshole. “And this is butthole,” he explained. “You want it?” “Yes, sir!” both men shouted. “Okay, then. Heads together.” The teens scrambled. He positioned himself firmly over their faces and lowered his magnificent butt closer. The teens breathed in the butt aroma deeply, licking the cheeks, lightly smacking and pawing. Moster sat down hard on their faces. The cadets paid no attention to the pain. Instead, they both groaned deeply in pleasure. Moster glanced up at the clock. “I will be sitting on each of your faces for five minutes.” “Yes, sir!” “Worship my ass.” The teens did so eagerly: licking, stroking, spitting, and kneading, lightly smacking Moster’s powerful glutes. “Incredible butt, sir!” “Awesome shape and size, sir!” “It’s hard as steel, sir!” “I know, men. Keep at it.” “Permission to jack off, sir!” they both cried out. “Permission granted. But make sure neither of you cum. Not yet.” In unison the teens popped their poling, stiff dicks free from their khakis and began pumping their hardened young manmeat. When five minutes of assplay were up, Moster rose slowly and pulled up his posers, covering the corona of his massive cockhead with the groaning poser pouch. He picked Taylor up wholly from the floor, and positioned him on his knees in front of his cock. “Hunh?” mumbled the confused Taylor. “Are we finished with your butt, sir?” “You are. You will now start on my cock.” Moster guided the young cadet’s face into his looming cockbulge. “Lick it,” he commanded. “You’re my plaything.” Taylor nodded eagerly and began to expertly glide his tongue over the bulging Spandex. Moster issued more commands to Banks, who was scrambling to his feet. “Get yourself hard and start fucking this boy’s butt,” he directed. “Sir, my dick is hard,” said Banks. “You call that hard? Work it. I want to see it hard.” Taylor, sucking deeply, moaned softly. Banks worked his stiff dick furiously. He reached out and probed the reddened muscle cheeks of Taylor’s magnificent young bottom. He could clearly make out Moster’s still bright-red handprints, striking nearly every time as he had on precisely the same surface of each buttcheek. He knew his own smarting butt looked the same. He pulled on his cock, bringing it out to its full 9-inch hardness. Once upon a time, he envisioned that he had a pretty big cock. But it was nothing compared to Moster’s. Or to Casey Rockland’s, dammit. It was big enough to do the job, though. He spit in his palm and rubbed it furiously on the tip of his cock two or three times. “Use the oil, cadet. Behind you.” Moster’s cock, still sheathed in dripping white Spandex, was plunging in and out of Taylor’s mouth. Moster was pumping evenly. “Get ready.” Banks found the oil and oiled up his penis. It looked pretty good at that, he thought, and remembered that in the real world, he had been the favorite all his young life of size queens everywhere. He waved it back and forth and approached Taylor’s rounded butt, pointing outward and ready to receive. He smacked it against the cadet’s rounded buttcheeks. Taylor was sucking feverishly. “Sir,” he breathed, “Permission to remove your posing trunks, sir.” “Permission denied. Banks, you ready yet?” “Sir, pleeeeasssee, sir…. . Taylor pleaded. “What did I say? Banks, you get yourself ready to fuck this young cadet. And be advised that once you’re done, you’re gonna face my dick, too, both front and back.” He looked down at Taylor. “You’ll get fucked last. And hardest.” “Sirrr……” Taylor moaned. “Expose your butthole, cadet.” “Yes, sir….” Taylor reached back and pulled the strap of his jock clear of his eager young asshole. It winked invitingly up at Banks, poised above. “Fuck that butt, cadet.” “Yes, sir!” In one stroke, Banks reared back and slid his dick deeply into Taylor’s not-so-cherry butthole. “AAAHHHH!!!” Taylor screamed. It was the moment Moster had been waiting for. His spandex suit ripped powerfully and tore away, and his fully erect 20-inch cock cannonballed past Taylor’s gently parting lips and crammed itself deeply down into his throat. “MMMGGGRRRRMMMAAACCCKPHH” Taylor groaned. “Let’s get busy, Cadet,” said Moster calmly. “Yes, sir,” said Banks. He spit on his dick and began to slowly fuck his buddy’s butt. Down the hall, six more of the musclemen of Project Herculaneum lay in their cots and listened to the commands, shouts and moans coming from Moster’s quarters, and jerked their pulsing rods furiously. Banks pumped Taylor’s butt powerfully while his buddy sucked Moster’s monster black cock. He was amazed at his own strength, and how big his own cock looked, gliding smoothly, expertly, in and out of muscleboy butthole. But Taylor was busy on his own, licking his CO’s leathery scrotum and sucking the huge shaft, tonguing the cockhead, playing with the pisshole and plunging ever deeper with full-throated sucking. He barely seemed to notice Bank’s steady plunges into his asshole. Moster’s mighty black cock plunged in and out of his mouth. Taylor felt his throat expand with each of the black muscleman’s powerful thrusts. It hurt like hell. He loved it. Every powerful plunge made him harder. Every buttstroke from Banks’ cock made him crazier. Taylor pulled back a little, and began licking Moster’s cock. “You sucking, there, Cadet?” asked Moster. “You sucking my cock? Biggest cock in the United States. Maybe the world. No bigger. Suck it all, now. Take it all in.” Sweat was pouring off the young Taylor, now almost sobbing with pain and pleasure. His mouth hurt with the powerful plunges of 20 inches of steel-stiff penis. Moster’s iron abs rippled and were like shiny armor. He flexed his mountainous biceps and expanded his pecs into iron-like straps of hard, round muscle. Taylor looked up at the gleaming muscle monster above him and sucked his cock feverishly. “Good work, Banks,” said Moster. “Fuck his butthole.” “Yes, sir!” Finally he looked up at Banks. “Now it’s your turn.” He pulled his penis out of Taylor’s mouth and lifted the weakened boy to his feet by his armpits. “Now you fuck him.” “Sir…. I can’t….” “What do you mean, you can’t? Banks, turn around. Show him your butt.” Banks turned obediently, bent over, and jutted his hard little butt out eagerly. He took ahold of each of his ripped buttcheeks and pulled them apart, exposing his pink butthole. Taylor drooled but didn’t dare move. Not yet. “See that beautiful ass? See that muscle ass? You can’t fuck that? What’s the matter with you, boy? Get to it! Now! That’s an order.” “Yes, sir!” said bottomboy Taylor, pleased that at last he’d have a chance to fuck some nice butt himself. He scrambled to his feet and spread his legs wide as Moster strode powerfully around them and shoved his cock into Banks’ mouth and down his wide-open throat. He began face fucking the handsome muscle greaser. Taylor slid his own painfully engorged cock into Banks’ butthole and began to fuck his tight, rockhard, hairy little rear manfully. “How does it feel, cadet?” “Sir, it feels great, sir!” Taylor shouted joyfully, fucking butt like a devil possessed, his teen cock sliding in and out of muscleboy bubblebutt. “Sir, just awesome!” “Good. Fuck that little hard butt of his. Banks, you keep sucking my cock like a good soldier. Fucking greaser, don’t you know you’re lucky to get my cock? Gobble it up, now.” The fucking and sucking went on for some minutes. Moster stepped back, lifted his gigantic arms into a double biceps pose and grinned. “Time to spit roast. Fast moves, boys. On your back, Banks, now! Taylor, don’t let your cock out of his butthole.” In a flash, Banks rolled over, his lips never leaving the Sergeant’s impossibly thick cockshaft. Taylor’s plunging cock, ever hard, stayed firm and deep inside muscular butt. Banks’ insanely beautiful ass tightened around Taylor’s cock, enveloping it, pulling it ever deeper inside. Glutes writhed with erotic ministrations as they were pounded by thick cockshaft, slowly, then more quickly, fucking Taylor with glorious swells and painful tightenings. “Good moves. I expect to see you both training hard tomorrow.” “Yes, sir! Aye aye, Sir!” both cadets shouted, though Banks’ reply was somewhat garbled, now on his back, his fully-stretched throat now receiving a relentlessly plunging 20 inches of rock-hard, vein-pumping, throbbing, leaping, black, pulsating, plundering penis. It was when Moster lifted his hands behind his head and the mammoth muscle man went into a hard, insanely powerful abdominal pose, his cock ever invading Banks’ throat, when both Tayor and Banks lost their loads. Their cannoned cocks launched dual fire hoses of cum at almost the same instant, arcing high to the ceiling, flying, and then descending, splashing their hot cream across the expansive broadness of Moster’s pecs and abs. Banks’ first blast was accompanied with a deep, guttural, loud yell. Taylor's enormous volume of jizz flew at Moster with a, “Fuck! Oh, fuuuuuuck!” Both cadets' faces scrunched with orgasmic bliss, and in seconds, Moster's muscles were dripping with muscleboy semen. Rivers of shiny, creamy white cum landed, splashed and ran down his massive body. Sprays continued until broad streaks of semen flowed over the various carved contours of trapezius, deltoids, pectorals, lats, obliques, and quads all receiving voluminous coatings of cadet cum. Moster smiled as he lowered his hands, still being showered with the adoring jizz that the muscular cadets were shooting at him. He chuckled, “Oh, that’s nice. Is all this cum for me? Very nice, gentlemen. I appreciate the compliment.” The cadets panted, continuing to spray Moster with uncontrollable ejaculations, apparently not paying much attention to Moster’s words. “My, my,” said Moster. “And you boys aren’t even on P-21 yet. Hmmmm…” Moster considered the possibilities, calmly watching globs of semen fly, land, and splash in creamy blobs on his physique. Finally, they were done. “Now watch,” Moster smiled. “Watch the master.” He looked down at his enormous cock, still encased in Banks’ lips. The veiny shaft throbbed with the first signs of the quarts of cum about to be produced. “Oh, no!.....” mumbled Banks, the cock now shaking violently in his mouth. Moster moaned, looked up at the ceiling, and tightened his whole body. His neck bulged with veins. His physique undulated with such potent and vigorous tightening that the two muscleboys could only stare. He lifted his arms into a fierce front double biceps pose. His penis, still deep inside Bank’s mouth, began to blast out shot after shot. The organ exploded like a dam—bursting with cum; its possessor now took it in powerful hands and, plucking from Banks’ lips, angled it away from himself just a bit, blasting its hot, thick liquid onto the two worshippers. He grinned and drenched the men with burst after violent burst of jizz. Within moments, each man was bathed in a white coat of thick, pure semen. Banks and Taylor, individually, had more cum on their body than Moster had, even though Moster had received the ejaculations of both muscleboys, and the cadets had each received only half of Moster’s, the other half down Banks’ throat and pouring from his mouth. The cadets panted to recover from their most violent orgasms; their astounding muscular physiques glistened with sweat and cum. Yet Moster looked as if he hadn’t exerted himself in the least. He smiled. “Ah… There we go. And both of you got quite a workout from all of this, didn’t you.” With a lone fingertip he lifted some of the men’s semen off his chest, and stuck it in his mouth. “Mmmm,” he smiled. He looked at Banks, obviously appreciating his superior officer’s glorious, still undulating physique, and said, “Cadet, you’ll need to report directly to my quarters at 1900 hours tomorrow night. I think you’ll need another spanking. And I’ll maraud your throat again. Right after my workout tomorrow night.” He paused, considering. “I think I’ll blast my biceps first in the gym. They should be at their fullest peaks by the time you get here. Is that satisfactory to you, cadet?” Banks panted. And as if to emphasize the point, he nodded enthusiastically, squirting one last shot of cum out of his pisshole as he mouthed, “Yes… sir.” Taylor looked disappointed. Moster smiled graciously. “Taylor, you may arrive at 2100 hours.” Taylor squirmed with joy, and he, too, shot a final small blast of cum. Moster looked at the wet torsos of the cadets, and then his own. “Gentlemen, now you must clean all of this semen up. You may start with your tongues on each other, and then proceed to me.” The handsome muscleboys hesitated, standing in awkward attention, glancing briefly at one another. It was Taylor who spoke (for, as it happened, Banks’ paralyzed throat rendered him incapable of speech for the next 12 hours). “Sir, if it’s all the same to you, I think we’d like to attend to you first.” Moster considered this. “As you prefer.” He went into a powerful front lat spread, his pecs now full and round and pointing to the ceiling, the semen dripping from his heavy, pouting brown nipples. “You may start with my chest.”
  2. *NOTE*: This will be the last posting of Worshipper Thursdays. It is being absorbed into Themed Saturdays. Next Thursday will feature the new day for Flexing Wednesdays. A batch of videos from that company in the 2000s. https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5bb6320332a59 (Beto) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5bb6c1eaed193 (Beto 2) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5baafcb1646b2 https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5bb6cb708c50a (Claude) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5bb6c4e0deccb (Fernando) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5bb6c7cdc7f60 https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5bb6c65360bdc (Verbal) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=1897769951 (Valci) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c618d5801670 (Samuel) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5761d38d9253f (Edson) BONUS: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c32493967352 (Tom Lord Ass Worship)
  3. A mixture of more worship! https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c24a508b6ca5 (Flex Masters) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=1677005162 (Alex) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5a466deb8f9b1 (Bodybuilder Shower) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5bb6309b1e82b (Duo) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5bb6c65360bdc (Verbal Domination) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph583222ac8079d (Domination) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph58f46e4f6526a (Worship Session) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5b73cf5864919 (Peter Latz and Roger Danik) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c15e12215e21 (Justin Morinetti) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5aef51c0b2561 (Cassinelli)
  4. MUSCLE BUDDIES CHAPTER 1 - GREETINGS FROM A BODYBUILDER AND A POWERLIFTER Jeff was a great athlete in high school. He was bigger than most of the kids in his class and loved to play all kinds of sports. He would sign up for as many as he could because he liked the feeling of his muscles pushing against his clothes and the sensation of them tensing and bouncing. He would spend more time in the gym than most of the guys that went there. The pumps he would get would be outrageous. Some days he couldn't get the shirts to stay down on his chest so he would have to go shirtless sometimes. The ladies could not stop staring at him. His chest would heave to the people that he would chafe if he didn't wear something over top of it. He wasn't a virgin past his freshman year. Most of the guys didn't like him because he was so young, yet so advanced physically. There were times when he would be in the locker room in the buff and just stare in the mirrors at all of the curves and bumps in his muscles and would flex them to see how they looked. He wasn't the only big guy on the football team though. There were two other guys that were quite developed, but in different ways. One was more a powerlifter type with a gut and the other was a big lifter himself with huge arms and giant legs. He was a competitive bodybuilder too and would talk to Jeff about your genetics. He wasn't interested in ever competing because you didn't want to do all of the bulking/cutting that was required. The bodybuilding teen would also stare in the mirrors and check out his body, but he would always wear shorts whereas Jeff just stood naked. Jeff figured out that he was an exhibitionist because he liked it when the other guys would check him out. One of the guys always smacked Jeff's butt when he would walk by and then wink. He didn't know what to think because this guy seemed like he was flirting. For the next couple of years, Jeff maintained his size and even tried to get fuller by changing up parts of his diet to make his chest bulge even more. He wanted pecs so big they would come up to his chin. He was only a junior and his body was outlandish. Everybody suspected that he was juicing and he was tested all the time only to find out that he was naturally big. He had a few girlfriends and didn't know how he was going to juggle them. He didn't really have time to hang out with them so he broke up with them. His bodybuilder teammate was actually a little leaner then he was a few years before. He really wanted to know how Jeff's body could be so developed and full and yet be natural. Jeff was close to this guy because he could talk to him about training tips and whatever food he needed to eat. The other guy named Dustin was actually quite fond of Jeff and asked if he could feel Jeff's body just to see what bigger muscle felt like. Jeff was very interested in what Dustin was saying and walked straight up to him and flexed his muscles. Dustin gave out a slight moan and started to rub Jeff's arms and chest. The two guys view themselves as straight, but were obviously weak for muscle. Jeff started to lick Dustin's sweaty chest and kiss his nipples. It wasn't long before they started to worship each other and kiss each other. They would try to overpower each other and talk tough trying to get the other one to give in. Their inhibitions could not be contained. Jeff started to suck Dustin's cock because he wanted to feel empowered. Women couldn't satisfy him because he needed to feel strength. Dustin thrust into Jeff's mouth and made him feel tingly. Jeff couldn't help but moan really loud because he loved feeling Dustin's muscles push against him. Dustin then made Jeff get up and sit on his chest to flex in front of him. Dustin started to rub Jeff's huge chest and stroke his cock. He wanted Jeff's cum so badly that he wouldn't stop stroking him. Jeff could hold back well with women, but with Dustin it didn't take much effort because he loved it so much. With his mouth open, Dustin gobbled up Jeff's huge load and started to moan again. Jeff started to sit on top of Dustin's cock because he wanted him so bad. He had never been fucked before but it just went straight into his head to go for it. Dustin started pounding Jeff and making him moan loudly. Jeff had never felt so much pressure, but he loved to feel Dustin's abs rubbing against his bum. Dustin went to pull out, but Jeff made him keep it in because he wanted to feel cum shoot inside. Jeff was amazed at how far up cum went because he felt Dustin's cock move deeper once cum started shooting. The two guys were very close buddies from that point on. They never had sex with other men, just each other. Both were muscular, but Jeff was considerably bigger than Dustin. The story doesn't end here. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 2 - A WORKOUT SESSION After spending a little more time together through their junior years, Dustin and Jeff have become a little more acquainted with each other’s bodies. Both have different ideas in how they want to look and even how to train, but they agree that they just want to look better than everyone else. Jeff is more interested in looking powerful and massive while Dustin is into the whole aesthetics principle especially since he plans on competing someday in the near future. They knew they had the perfect chemistry together when they spent an evening together at the end of the school year inside the football weight room. Jeff is always notorious for pumping himself up and making his muscles strain to the point that his clothes just barely hold on. His tight t-shirt hangs on for dear life over his heaving pecs as his nipples press against the material. Dustin sits not far away working on his legs as he watches his close friend grunt a bit as he does his deadlifts. He makes a moaning sound a few times to get Jeff’s attention which works beautifully as the huge 16 year old gets a bit flustered pushing the huge load back up to the rack. He glares over at his ripped buddy and gives him a nasty look. Dustin smiles really big at him before he gets up to walk over to where he is. The only other guy in the gym is the powerlifting coach and he is currently in the locker area. Dustin gets behind his sweaty friend and starts rubbing down his shoulders slowly feeling each and every curve of muscle. Jeff turns his head slightly and lets out a low growl as he feels his lover kneading the fibers on both muscle bulbs. Dustin then runs his hands down the big teen’s sides touching his incredible lats and squeezes them feeling their power inside. Jeff lightly moans before turning his head back to its original position again to go back to his deadlifting. Dustin moves right along with him as he moves his body down close to the floor with the huge load on his back. Knowing that Jeff needs his concentration, he lets him go after watching the strongman do several lifts before he begins to show signs of straining and struggling. The ripped teen helps him get the weight bar back to its original position and turns him around to get a good view of Jeff’s pumped body. Now dripping with perspiration, his huge pecs completely show through his shirt. Dustin looks into Jeff’s eyes before leaning in to kiss and lick his massive neck. The powerful guy pulls him in to squeeze him in his arms and smother him in his chest and moans as Dustin begins to feel his insane back under his shirt. The mountains of muscle are nearly too much for his it as Dustin feels a slight tug at the top behind his neck. He finds a tiny rip that has begun to form and pulls on it as it makes a really muffled sound. It shreds all the way down his back as Jeff laughs flexing his back and delts. Dustin can’t help but to reach around and do the same thing to the front as he rips the shirt right down the middle in two exposing the big guy’s engorged bouncing pecs. Dustin leans down to place his lips on Jeff’s nipples making him growl as he buries his lover in them. They both fall down on the ground below the machine as the smaller bodybuilder continues to worship his huge buddy’s pecs chewing and licking each nipple over and over again. Jeff quickly pulls his own gym shorts off showing his huge beefy ass as his cock springs into action rubbing against Dustin’s right leg. After a minute of massaging Jeff’s melons, the two teens lock lips and play tonsil hockey with their tongues. Jeff pulls the ripped teen’s shorts off immediately as their cocks meet pressing up against each other. Their pre mixes together as they continue to kiss longingly. Jeff then returns the favor on Dustin running his lips and tongue along the bodybuilder’s chest and abs. Each ab is massaged slowly with Jeff’s tongue as his lightly colored chest hair is slurped slowly making him moan lightly. Before long the two secret lovers lay beside each other rubbing each other’s quads and cocks lovingly stroking as they switch hands back and forth trying not to make so much noise that the coach comes out. Now leaning their heads against each other, they pick up speed on their cocks as they edge over and over again building their loads up. Their balls swell bigger with each round that goes by. The pre flows so much that they are able to lube their cocks completely before they eventually erupt. Wanting to come together, they rub their muscled bodies together while they stroke to get the maximum effect. Instead of using their hands to jack off, they grind each other as they cover each other’s mouths with their free hands. Feeling it moving through them quickly now, they start to shake the gym floor as both cocks shoot volcanic ropes all over each other. They squeal as their bodies flex at the same time feeling the power emanating from each other. Their nipples meet as Dustin smiles into Jeff’s blue eyes. He winks before sliding his ass on top of Jeff’s thick cock. The big stud moans feeling it being swallowed up as Dustin leans down to lay on his chest. Feeling another surge of power rushing through him, Jeff starts to fuck Dustin faster as he completely buries himself inside him. The smaller guy runs his hands all over Jeff’s huge beefy guns leaning in to run his tongue on the gargantuan masses. They both moan a bit louder now and seem less concerned about being seen than they did before. Another load quickly builds inside Jeff’s balls as he pounds Dustin harder. They both yell in ecstasy as the huge stud finally shoots his second load inside his lover making him have trouble breathing for a few seconds. It is at that moment that they both realize they have been watched the whole time. The coach makes a quick comment which immediately gets the two teens to jump up and go racing into the locker room. The powerlifter laughs at them as he lets go of his own cock and watches it jump up and down for a few instances. He turns to walk out into the area where the weights are and starts doing a few curls taking in his reflection. Dustin and Jeff appear to be out with at least one person that they know of now, but in order to keep it secret, they may have to make a pact with him someway or somehow. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 3 - KEEPING A SECRET After making the playoffs at the end of the football season, Jeff wants to come out to the rest of the guys on the team, but Dustin keeps telling him that it isn’t going to help him if he does. After celebrating their last home game with the team, Jeff spends a little bit of time in the locker room having a ‘conversation’ with Dustin. The two studly teens laugh as they horse around near the lockers rolling on the floor and playfully punching each other. Without realizing it, they can hear a deep voice rumbling above them like they are trying to clear their throat. The two young men stop moving and look up at them. The man has a look on his face that makes them wonder if he is mad or not as they stand there with their arms in a dominant stance. The rest of the team has already showered and is leaving the dressing area to go home to prepare for the next game at this point. Dustin jumps to his feet and starts to move away from Jeff but not before the man grabs him by the arm. The man turns to look at him and points to the nearby bench. Dustin goes to sit down immediately afterwards. It turns out that the man is the coach that saw the two teenagers having sex before the football season began. He is also the assistant coach of the football team. The man is incredibly muscled, much larger than he was back when he caught them together. He turns back around and reaches down to pull Jeff up to his feet. The stunned teen is shirtless since he hasn’t yet showered from the game. The coach walks up to him and looks him straight in the eyes before pressing his immense body up against Jeff’s. He knows that the teen has tried to avoid him for weeks because of what happened that night. He grabs Jeff’s hands and puts them on his huge ass which is hugging his tight jeans. Dustin watches intently and even lets out a few moans. The coach grunts a few times before wrapping his arms around Jeff and picking him up. He starts using the muscled teen like a dumbbell curling him and lifting him up and down above his head and directly in front of his face. The man’s groomed beard brushes up against Jeff’s crotch each time to make him react. The coach eventually stops lifting him to watch the young man’s crotch pulse inside his football pants. He leans in to smell Jeff’s musk before running his tongue along the crotch. Dustin knows he should do something, but he finds the whole situation too hot. Jeff isn’t exactly trying to stop the man either since he has had his eye on the coach for as long as the season has gone on. Feeling his own cock stirring in his pants, Dustin gets up to go over and join the other two. He puts his hands around the front of the coach’s chest and pulls on the polo shirt he is wearing, ripping it open down the front which immediately makes the man drop Jeff onto the ground. He turns and yells at Dustin making his huge hairy chest flex as his pecs and abs swell. The force behind the pump makes the sleeves on his shirt shred as his bicep peaks appear through the fabric. Dustin doesn’t get far before he is tackled on the ground by the man. The man tells him to punch him in the chest which Dustin does without a second thought. He laughs and tells him to do it again as it pleases him greatly. He rips the rest of his shirt off and grins as he flexes his upper body again. He forces Dustin to rub his muscles and orders him to say how much he wants his body. Jeff is now scooting behind the coach and rubbing his crotch up against the older man’s ass. The man turns and orders him to take his pants off so he can see how much of a man he is becoming. Without much coaxing, Jeff pulls his pants and jock off to show his engorged cock which has been leaking precum for quite some time. The coach moans as he leans down to swallow the thick pole down his throat. Jeff yells in delight feeling his cock tickling the man’s throat. Dustin reaches underneath and up to unzip the man’s pants to pull them down. The coach’s huge bubble butt stares him in the face as the man’s nine-inch pole dangles towards Dustin’s legs. He pulls the coach down on to his face and shoves his tongue inside the man’s hole making the hugely muscled daddy moan as he continues to work Jeff’s cock over. Knowing that the muscled teen can’t hold out too long, he starts jerking Jeff rapidly as he pulls his cock out and looks up at the teen’s face smiling the whole time. He commands Dustin to keep rimming him as he playfully punches Jeff’s powerful chest with his free hand. Feeling the teen’s balls swelling to twice their size, he runs his tongue along Jeff’s slit hoping to summon the giant load from inside. Jeff can sense the flood moving into his cock and shoves his rod down the coach’s throat which surprises the huge man. He grips the huge teen as Jeff unloads down his throat making the coach moan deeply feeling it fill his insides. Dustin runs his hands along the man’s balls and cock feeling it tense like it is about to explode itself. He stops rimming the coach and slides his body down in time to feel a giant river of cum hitting his face and head. The coach flexes his massive legs and lowers his huge rod down onto Dustin’s mouth trying to get him to open it. He pulls Jeff’s cock out to tell him to do it or he will force him to take it up his ass. After resisting a few seconds, he gulps the hairy muscleman’s cock down and swallows what is left flowing from it. The coach grunts in satisfaction after finally doing what he has fantasized about all this time. He pulls his cock out of Dustin’s mouth and gets up. He pulls up the jeans he was wearing and grabs his shredded shirt before going into the shower area. The two muscled teens stare at each other and wonder what the hell just happened. They both smile before getting up from the locker room floor. Jeff walks over and sits beside Dustin. He leans in to lick the coach’s cum off the teen’s face and moans tasting the spunk before kissing his lover’s lips and holding him in his arms. They both think that their secret is safe with the coach, but they may have to do this again to make sure he keeps it hidden. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 4 - GETTING TO KNOW WHO WE ARE Jeff and Dustin’s junior year is now winding down after the two teenagers both have decided to accelerate their training programs. To prepare for the upcoming football season, Jeff is already starting to up his reps on all of his workouts to get stronger. Dustin is in the midst of a bulking phase that he was talked into trying by more than one person. One of the people in particular that talked Dustin into getting a bit ‘thicker’ is Jeff’s assistant football coach Colton. After that amazing night last winter with both teens, the muscular coach has been spending more time with both of them on an individual basis. He ended up introducing Jeff to one of his former training partner’s and has gotten him started on a program with the powerlifter to get prepared for the upcoming season. With all of these additional workouts, Jeff is away from Dustin more often than not leaving the door open for Colton to spend quite a bit of time with Dustin to help get him through his bulking phase. Colton has gotten more interested in Dustin lately not only because of his dedication to bodybuilding, but also due to some of the conversations they have been having. The coach doesn’t see the two young men the same way he used to after that one night in the locker room. After getting to know them more personally, he has developed separate feelings for both, but is gravitating towards Dustin far more than he has ever for Jeff. Spending time with both young men is becoming quite risky and requires a lot of planning so nobody suspects that there is more going on than what meets the eye. The hunky coach has taken it upon himself to personally train Dustin after school hours and to help him develop his diet for at least the interim until he learns how to do things on his own. Convincing him to get bigger through intense training is something Dustin is not used to, but since he is developing a strong bond with the buff coach, he is willing to give it a try. When the well-muscled teenager first started training with him weeks before the school year ended, he was apprehensive since the coach had an area set up just outside his office located inside the school’s weight room. At first, it seemed really strange to Dustin that he would go to such lengths to do this, but the coach always had explanations that he would give to everyone that ever asked him about it. He even has several members of the football team using the equipment in this area to show that he has a purpose for it. Colton’s main position during school hours is as the physical education teacher for the freshman and sophomores that go there. He doesn’t allow them to use the equipment though unless they are part of the football program. As for the intense training and changes in Dustin’s diet, they are yielding immediate results that surprise both the coach and Dustin. His strength has nearly doubled in just a few short weeks and his body has swelled from a reasonable 165 to close to 200 pounds. The growth of course makes Colton a bit horny at times as he makes it an objective to have the growing teen come into his office to give him personal massages after every other workout. He always tells him that they are needed to keep his muscles loosened up and ready for the next workout. This always makes the young stud laugh since he knows that he is turning the coach on. It isn’t unusual for the muscular coach to strip down to his boxers while he gives Dustin these long massages. Some of these sessions can get quite heated especially if Dustin’s muscles are incredibly pumped up from an intense workout. Colton always makes a move on him during those days which gets the young stud to let his inhibitions roam free. It can sometimes involve a lot of muscle worship on both men and doesn’t always include just their hands either. At this point in their relationship, both of them are willing to go quite far to pleasure each other. The first couple of times this happened, there was some sucking and rimming which generally concluded with a thick creamy finish down Dustin’s throat. From that one night they spent together with Jeff, the young muscleman has thoroughly enjoyed taking the coach’s loads and vice versa for Colton as well. As the weeks have progressed through the summer, Colton’s attraction to his growing student have led to more advanced sex sessions which include Dustin penetrating him with his thick cock and pounding him to the point that he starts grunting like a rhino. The favor is not returned though as the young bloated bodybuilder doesn’t want Jeff to suspect that he is fucking his coach. In other words, he doesn’t want Jeff to see that he has been fucked in the ass. At this point in Dustin’s training, he is now an incredibly bloated 220, an astounding 60 pounds heavier from when he started just eight weeks before. Colton no longer sees Dustin as just a smart muscular teenager he can fool around with. Instead he sees a man with the body of someone that is quite mature for their age. He knows that he must break away from Dustin now or risk being found out by not just Jeff, but also by other people because he is having a harder time keeping it secret anymore. Their last sessions together in the later part of the summer involves a lot of hugs, squeezes, and even some intense kissing. Colton has in fact fallen in love with Dustin and knows that this needs to stop before it goes any farther. The day before summer drills for football began was when the hunky coach told Dustin that he didn’t need to train him any longer since he pretty much knew how to do everything himself. The young stud knew the real reason why he was cutting him loose though and told him that he understood completely. The upcoming senior year is just weeks away and everyone’s priorities are starting to take shape. Remarkably, Jeff never once has suspected that Dustin was seeing his football coach for anything other than training purposes. The same cannot be said for Dustin, who has suspected that the powerlifter trainer that Jeff was referred to by Colton was fooling around with him as well. With such busy schedules however, the last thing that Dustin wanted to do was to jeopardize not only Jeff’s progress for his future in sports but also their relationship with each other. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER 5 - ENTERING THE OFFSEASON Jeff and Dustin entered their senior year together, but not out. Their relationship was very strong, but they didn't want to detract from their future endeavors in their sports. Dustin was in a bulking phase, something that didn't go unnoticed in school. He was relatively decent in size the previous year, but now he has grown quite a bit. Many guys have suspected that he juices, not understanding the whole process involved in bodybuilding. Jeff has remained around the same size, but he has also focused more on his training for his future in college. Jeff hasn't decided what sport he will get a scholarship in. Football would be a no-brainer, but he has wanted to play in the Rugby League for years. His hardness has dissipated slightly, but he is still immense. His small layer of fat over top of his skin and his now thick body hair gives him a much more mature appearance. Over the summer, the two men began to hang out more with Omar, their good powerlifter buddy. He has been helping Jeff with getting stronger and more prepared for his possible Rugby career. Omar himself is thick with huge rounded shoulders, a wide back, and powerful arms. He isn't ripped, and he had no intention of ever being that way either. He has always idolized Kevin Nee and wanted to follow in his footsteps. He trained hard last year, but is training even harder now that he is a year older. His relationship with Jeff has gotten more personal due to their training sessions together. The strength and power in his lifts has translated over to Jeff, who has come to love watching Omar lift and grunt and even moan at times when he lifts heavier weight. Jeff himself has gotten much stronger as he has studied Omar and how he is able to control the weight on his back and shoulders when he deadlifts. It is the strength factor that has changed Omar and Jeff's relationship too. When they started, they wore tanks and shorts, now though it isn't unusual for them to just be wearing their boxers. They don't train together until after hours and sometimes it can be tough because of school work or other things in their schedules. They both stand behind each other when they lift so that they don't hurt themselves or need help. Their hands will sometimes travel to places other than the weight bar or the weights themselves. Jeff has a tendency to place his hands on Omar's arms to feel how strong he is when he lifts the weight above his head. It gets him so excited that his cock will sometimes pop out of his boxers and touch Omar's leg. This doesn't stop Omar though. He always laughs afterwards though because he thinks it is strange that Jeff loves strength so much it gets him hard. Jeff's turn comes and Omar tries to keep his attention on Jeff's lifts. He does have a thing though for Jeff's size and has always loved how thick he was and yet have such definition. With Jeff's added width, Omar can't help but start focusing on Jeff's back rather than his lifts. When Jeff put the weight back down on the ground, Omar grabbed him around the waist and lifted him up to start licking Jeff's lower back. This excites Jeff so much that he instantly starts jerking his cock and pulls his boxers down. Omar immediately goes to town on Jeff's big ass and things really start to heat up. Still hoisted in the air, Jeff starts humping Omar's face and getting himself so hot that he cums on the ground. Omar turns Jeff around, puts him on the floor, pulls his boxers off, and starts pumping Jeff with his huge bulk inside him. Jeff can't help but yell with the big man inside him. The pumping doesn't stop for several minutes and Jeff can feel Omar getting closer as his huge balls keep hitting his backside. Jeff loves the pressure from Omar's powerful bulk so much that he is getting close to cumming again. Omar grabs Jeff's cock before he can blow because he wants to blow at the same time. Omar pulls out and starts to double jack both of them. The feeling is so intoxicating that they both start moaning loudly and cum at the same time flowing cum on to both of their cocks. Omar then motions Jeff to try and pick him up because he wants to know how strong he is now. Jeff attempts to lift Omar and his muscles swell as he does so. Omar lets out a huge moan as he sees Jeff literally lift him up and his arms get really pumped. The feeling of lifting Omar gets Jeff so hot that he can't help but cum on Omar's leg. Omar loves it equally too and cums on to Jeff's chest. The two of them realize that they may actually have a thing for each other’s strength and power. Jeff's training time with Omar led to them having sex, but he has talked to Dustin about it too. Dustin is a friend of Omar from way back and wasn't that upset with Jeff being intimate with him. Omar's relationship with Dustin is different because they grew up in the same neighborhood. Their sexual chemistry was not really there. Dustin's physicality is not the same as Jeff's. He has bulked up, but his strength is not in the same arena as Jeff. ------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 6 - APPEASING THE ADMIRER Jeff knows that his strength obsession will become a problem with him and Dustin, but he can't stop seeing Omar either. Their training is necessary because they both get so motivated when they are together. One of Jeff's Rugby teammates is West, a flirty guy with a goofy sense of humor. Jeff has always been friendly with him and has never been threatened by West's very 'suggestive' nature. West is a very athletic guy with symmetrical features and a chiseled face. He is not afraid to admit that he is gay and prefers to be acquainted with the straight boys because he has always identified with them. West's humor has a tendency to go overboard at times, but he makes Jeff laugh quite a bit. What also makes West different though is the fact that he is also close to Dustin, due to his relationship with Jeff. West and Dustin have spent more time together recently because Jeff isn't around as much. Dustin's workouts have involved a lot of cardio since he has stopped bulking and his diet has gone back to being much stricter. West has been helping Dustin with his portions since he himself is on a strict diet. The two of them have had great talks and frankly have bonded quite well. Their parents are always fairly busy and are usually not home so the two of them spend time together at each other’s houses. They aren't afraid to be too close to each other either. West has started to show his affection for Dustin lately and will sometimes jump on to his back just to be playful. Dustin is not as liberal as Jeff is, but he has become more comfortable since he got involved with him. West normally wants to wrestle with Dustin just to get him riled up and it usually happens. West isn't no slouch when it comes to being strong so there is times when he accidentally rips Dustin's shorts. Dustin gets a little irritated when this happens but West always knows how to cheer him up too. He will crack a silly joke and put a smile on Dustin's face. While Jeff was at the gym training with Omar one day, Dustin and West spent an evening by themselves at Dustin's house. A wrestling match ensued and once again West accidentally ripped one of Dustin's pairs of shorts. He ripped it so bad that the bottom half of the shorts fell to the floor exposing Dustin's posers that he wore. West would of course make fun of him for wearing posers, but Dustin liked the way they looked on his body. West would start rubbing Dustin's thighs just to get him riled up again. This time though, Dustin flipped him over and straddled him because he knew that West would react. West moaned and motioned for Dustin to pull his pants down. He obliged and started to lick West's bubble butt covered in sweat. The taste did excite Dustin quite a bit so he started to tease West's hole. This was not something Dustin intended on doing, but he really liked West a lot and wanted to pleasure him. He placed his hands on West's butt and continued to tongue his hole. He felt West relax it and plunged his tongue inside. The feeling was unreal for West who pushed his butt even further into Dustin's face. The two of them then took their clothes off. West asked Dustin if he would pose for him so he could admire his hard work. It didn't take much because Dustin started to flex his still bulky biceps and thick chest. West was very delicate and didn't want to make Dustin feel uncomfortable. He started to feel around on Dustin's bulky upper body and slowly kiss his bouncy pecs. The feeling was so good that Dustin pressed West's face into his pecs. West moaned really loud and could feel Dustin pushing himself onto him. Unlike Jeff, West was definitely a power bottom and was involuntarily humping Dustin. His grinding was just above Dustin's growing dick. It wasn't long before West moved himself to where Dustin could penetrate him. Dustin's hulking thighs were now straddling him and West's impeccable core was ready for the pounding. Dustin moved West's legs back so he could see him penetrate him. He did it ever so slowly so West could feel every inch go in. Dustin's cock made West squeal with pleasure as he watched his hole get stretched. The two guys stayed in that position for quite some time because it felt so good. Dustin finally pulled out so he wouldn't cum inside him. West turned to start sucking Dustin off. He rubbed Dustin's gut as well as grabbing his immense butt. West was intent on making Dustin cum and wasn't going to stop. He would massage his balls and try to deep throat him just to make him give up, but Dustin wouldn't budge. Dustin was enjoying the sex, but he had anxiety too. He was in love with Jeff, but he wasn't around that much so West was basically a substitute for Jeff. He started to rub his chest and his arms thinking about Jeff sucking him off and this would prompt him to finally give his load up. The sucking sped up and West could feel Dustin's cock start to stiffen up. It wasn't long before Dustin sprayed cum all over West's face. Luckily, West didn't swallow it as Dustin didn't want him to. They smiled at each other and hugged afterwards. After the each of them took separate showers, they went back to working on their diet plans. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 7 - LET'S ASSUME WE CAN GET ALONG Spending time with Omar over the summer before his senior year of high school has been incredibly satisfying for Jeff, especially after the recommendation from his assistant football coach Colton Goodwin. His relationship with Dustin has stayed fairly strong despite both of the teenagers urges to let off some steam with various friends of theirs. Jeff’s decision to focus solely on his rugby training is surprising considering that coach Goodwin expected him to work towards football rather than the other sport. This could have played into the decision of why Colton has started spending more time with Dustin and ending up falling for the amateur bodybuilder. Jeff’s unusual relationship with Omar has never really been a problem for Dustin since he has always known that they have fooled around with each other. What he doesn’t know however is that they are doing it far more frequently than before. The sessions they have are more about just showing off how strong each of them is with the other. Jeff’s ability to lift Omar above his head now in his senior year compared to where he started at the beginning of the summer is beyond compare. Omar has grown weak for this kind of horseplay and Jeff is fully aware of it. After nearly every practice for rugby, they train together and wait until the rest of their team leaves before they move on to more important matters. Jeff’s fellow teammate West, who has spent some very personal time with Dustin as well, has had his theories about Jeff and Omar’s relationship. He has known his fellow classmate long enough to know when he is being fairly secretive. His curiosity finally gets the better of him one night after all of the other guys leave. Acting as if he is going to go shower after a training session, he walks down the corridor to the locker rooms and stops before sneaking around a corner to watch the two thick seniors as they start to horse around with each other on the Smith machine. They both are wearing tank tops that hug their beefy chests as well as tight pants that are nice and snug on their bloated legs and asses. West himself wears similar clothing and wastes no time before he pulls his tank and pants off to stand directly in the path of the two brutes. His cock is already dribbling a pool of precum on the ground in front of him just beyond the gym floor. He never once touches it with his hands as it throbs and bounces its way up and down. Jeff and Omar laugh as they strip down to where they are wearing nothing before they pounce on each other. In the beginning of this scene, it is Omar that is the aggressive one but quickly changes to where it is Jeff who takes full advantage of him with his size and strength. Jeff’s power turns Omar on greatly as he moans in his deep voice. West has never seen this side of his good friend before, the rough and rowdy beastly man who wants to be the one in control. Both bulky teens are already soaked and glisten with sweat as their muscles strain and tense with each movement they make. West moans to himself as he runs his hands up and down his ripped muscular chest and tweaks his hard nips making his cock jump each time. He makes thrusting motions in the air like he is fucking someone. He won’t hold out long because he was already horned up from the intense workout he just finished a few minutes previously. He grunts and seconds later sprays several jets of cum all over the ground as it coats the light colored wood. His voice manages to carry its way far enough over to get the attention of both Jeff and Omar which embarrasses him immensely. Before he can turn the other way to escape to the lockers, he hears Jeff’s voice calling for him to come over and join them. He stops moving in his tracks to think about his decision before he walks toward them. Both of the beefy teens grin as they get up off the floor and grab him by the legs to pick him up to put him on their shoulders. Jeff never really thought about West much beforehand, but after seeing his teammate get turned on so much by what him and Omar are doing, he is willing to include the smaller stud in the fun. Both Jeff and Omar take turns using West as a barbell as they deadlift him over and over again. It starts off with some light teasing and quickly moves into full-blown worship as the smaller teen can’t help but to massage both of the stud’s thick chests with his mouth and tongue. It isn’t long before West moves down to find their meaty cocks and works them over slowly and methodically making the big boys grunt each time he deep throats them. Jeff and Omar take turns punching at each other’s stomachs while West gets lost in massaging their immense rods. The taste of their precum sets him on fire as he feels another load building up in his own balls. West stops sucking them occasionally to look up at them to see what they are doing to each other. Jeff will flex his massive guns every time he notices West looking and smiles down at him before telling him to go back to servicing his cock. After several minutes of gulping on both poles, the smaller teen can feel them getting closer to bursting. He stops sucking finally to stroke them both in unison. Their hips thrust in sync with each other as West moans loudly feeling his body thrusting along with them. In a remarkable turn of events, both Jeff and Omar explode at the same time and hit West in the face as giant rivers of cum go splashing down his chest and onto his cock. The instant the white flood hits West’s rod, he shoots another big load all over the gym floor. Once he finishes, he gets up and hugs both men tightly. Jeff and Omar continue to smack each other around this time moving up to their pecs and grunting a few times. West asks them to kiss each other, but they decline. Instead, Jeff picks him up and wraps his thick arms around the fit teen’s waist and pulls him in to kiss his lips. West moans deeply as he puts his hands on Jeff’s head and leans into him. Omar smiles and asks if they need to be alone which prompts Jeff to immediately stop kissing the thinner teen. He asks the strongman if he would want a kiss from his friend since he is pretty good at it. Omar resists at first but then grabs the teen to turn him around. West peers into the big man’s brown eyes and swoons a little. They smile at each other before West leans in to lock lips with the burly powerlifter. To Omar’s surprise, he actually likes the way the fit teen kisses him and holds him tightly against his barrel chest. After a few minutes of light kissing, Omar puts West back down on the floor. Both Jeff and the big strongman rub their admirer’s head to show their affection for him before they grab their stuff to go to the locker room. West sits down in the same spot for a minute or two to take in what just happened. He finally gets up and follows behind them to go wash up from the amazing encounter he just had. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER 8 - IS THIS REALLY THE END? After getting a little bit of personal time in with both Jeff and Dustin, West feels as if he has accomplished quite a bit after what transpired over those two days over the past year. Jeff and Omar’s relationship has grown stronger over the winter months and into the spring season when they finish playing rugby for the year. Spending time with Dustin hasn’t been as much of a priority as it used to be, but they still manage to have a little bit of fun every now and then when they feel they are up to it. Dustin has changed his lifting regime up a bit from where it was previously last fall. Instead of slimming down to be in contest shape, he has decided that he feels more comfortable staying bulky, at least until after his senior year. He also thinks about Coach Goodwin quite a bit and has a bit of trouble avoiding him since they pass each other occasionally in the halls during school hours. The senior’s relationship with his family is very strained as well since they found out about his close relationship with Jeff. They gave him an ultimatum of staying with them and giving up on Jeff or leaving and finding his own way. He ended up choosing the latter since they have never understood who he was and his obsession with bodybuilding. Jeff has offered for Dustin to come live with his family, but he declined thinking that it would be too much of a distraction for them since their relationship was only supposed to be known between themselves in the first place. Instead of depending on other people, the growing bodybuilder has been able to raise money through donations he is receiving through his website that he started up during the winter. Of course, one of the gifts he offers for his supporters is of him posing and flexing in his shorts only, but no further than that. Jeff naturally is in favor of this kind of reward since he has always had a thing for Dustin’s hot body especially if he gets to watch off camera. He has tried to keep it secret from his friends that he has been kicked out of his home. For the last few months of his senior year himself and Jeff’s friend West have gotten a lot closer especially since the fit senior figured out what is going on with Dustin’s situation. He has helped find an apartment for the bodybuilder to live in for at least the last few months of school until he decides what exactly he needs to do for the foreseeable future. With graduation just around the corner, Dustin knows he can’t avoid Coach Goodwin any longer since he is one of the representatives of the senior class. The head coach of the football team is retiring and Colton is set to take over the football program. He plans on implementing some much needed changes to the conditioning and nutrition habits of the current and incoming players to the program. Goodwin himself has continued to grow as well. The clothes he wore just this past season were getting a bit snug in places that shouldn’t have ever been looked at from other people. Now, the only time he puts them on is to see how quickly he can hulkout of them to make him feel dominant and maybe even a bit horny. During the last day of classes, Colton manages to stop Dustin in the hallway to pull him over to the side to have a chat with him about a few things. It turns out that West was told by Jeff during one of his drunken stupors a few days before at a senior party about Dustin, the coach, and Jeff’s little rendezvous in the locker room the year before. West then went and told the coach about it and promised that he wouldn’t say anything as long as he could be kept in the loop about everything going on in their inner circle. Goodwin agreed to it and knew that he needed to go talk to Dustin about this before the year ended. Plus Colton misses Dustin more than ever and just wants to have another deep personal conversation with his young bodybuilder friend. Dustin never realized how much he missed the coach either. After a few more minutes of talking about the situation, the beefy bodybuilder reveals to Colton that he is living in an apartment by himself with the help of West and the website he set up. Goodwin is shocked by this and wonders why his parents would be so harsh about the relationship. He tells Dustin that he will go talk to them about this if he wants him to, but the senior says that he is actually over them. His parents have never understood why he makes the choices he does especially with his bodybuilding obsession. Colton grabs him around the waist and squeezes him tightly. Their hug is brief, but it has its impact as Dustin leans into him for a few seconds to rub his thick furry face against Colton’s broad veiny neck. He can feel the raw power emanating from the coach’s bloated muscles and wants to rub them, but can’t with so many people around. They stop hugging and say goodbye and agree to meet again when the graduation is over so they can talk in more detail about the future. Graduation night arrives after a tremendous ceremony that both Jeff and Dustin enjoyed immensely. The beefy rugby stud’s family was there to greet both of them at the after party before they quickly departed for home. The bodybuilder is grateful that Jeff has such a loving family and really appreciates everything that they have done for him. West hangs out with them for a while as well, flirting with both teenagers equally and being a bit too touchy feely. He admits to both of them that he will miss them greatly since he is going into the Navy to be with his boyfriend, Jake Reynolds, who is the guy that talked him into it in the first place. Omar was not able to attend graduation because he had to leave for a trip to his homeland in the Middle East. His family has been ravaged by the despair that is being caused by the terrorists in Syria and he wanted to go help them get out. He is able to keep in touch with Jeff quite a bit though so it isn’t all bad. Once the reception ends, Jeff and Dustin spend some alone time together outside the building it was held in off in a corner close to the football field. They make sure nobody is around before they strip down to their boxers and start running their hands up and down each other’s bodies worshipping each other. This leads to some very rough sex which is something they haven’t done in weeks. As Jeff gets ready to shoot Dustin full of his man seed, a very low gravelly voice is heard nearby. The young bodybuilder immediately recognizes that it is Coach Goodwin’s voice and pulls Jeff’s cock out of his hole to turn to face him. Colton is wearing a very tight black tank top and a nice pair of black pants that hug his insanely massive tree trunks. He wastes no time in walking over and picking Dustin up in his arms before plunging his tongue down the bodybuilder’s throat. Jeff looks at them both in shock and wonders to himself if maybe he has been kept out of the loop on something for quite some time. Goodwin immediately undoes his pants and yanks his briefs and Dustin’s boxers off their bodies. Their hard cocks play hockey with each other as their mouths and hands go searching along the different curves and bumps on each other’s muscles. Jeff picks up his clothes and walks the other way without uttering a single word to either of them. Both Dustin and the coach come to the realization that they are never going to be apart again after this night is over. Dustin keeps his apartment after the summer ends with the help of Coach Goodwin, who is now contributing to his young lover’s training expenses as well as other things. Since he is no longer a student at the school, the coach doesn’t have to worry about anyone finding out about their past affair. Jeff never speaks to Dustin ever again after that night. He goes off to college in Australia on a rugby scholarship where he will start a new life without Dustin and whoever else he was close to in the last two years.
  5. This week's selections are shorter than usual: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c69b9adbcb3c https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5a1bc2051a7b5 https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c4561a3d772e https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph56e2878a7cc04 https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5a8487e4425c0 https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=1196744915 https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph55a6c6e79f7d7 https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5aa2ed5e6c73b https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5b897f674b6a4 https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5b8afdcc0238a
  6. "The Twenty" - Excerpt from Chapter 23 Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, And Makes a New Friend December 5th, 2021 Los Angeles: 2100 Hours The bus pulled up the drive at 9 PM, the first stop of the evening. It was a large cliff side home high in the Hollywood Hills, lavish and dark, with a glimmering Olympic-sized pool in the back and fountains quietly spraying gallons of illegal water. Zaftig’s longtime off campus associate, the puny weasel Dr. Shaft, would be waiting inside, in attendance with a group of 9 investors, all quite anxious to see the young gods in action. The bodybuilders filed off the bus in the dark. “Golly, who lives here?” asked Hension, awestruck by the size of the house. “Some Hollywood dude movie producer,” muttered Lang. “Who cares? Time to FLEX.” Casey barely noticed. He was eager, for soon he’d be headed back to his private muscle planet, the place he first visited on the morning his cadet buddies came to say goodbye and stayed a little to admire his muscles. He was all ready to flex for these dudes. He neither knew nor cared who they were. Moster, who had gotten off the bus first, quietly barked orders in the large circular drive. Far below them the lights of the city twinkled, the magnificent blue mountains glowing in the coming dark of night. “Inspection. Strip down, men,” he commanded. “I don’t want to keep our hosts waiting.” The ten musclemen hopped and danced in the half light, removing slacks, baggies, t-shirts, jeans, shorts, underwear, jock straps, thongs, and boots as poor long-suffering Dr. Irving ran from man to man, frantically gathering up discarded clothing, quickly organizing as to owner, and distributing the proper poser to the proper man. Each poser was personally assigned, custom-tailored to cut across inches south of the lower abs, reveal generous slices of meaty glutes in back, and with frontal sag sufficient to generously reveal the top six inches of root and thick, plunging shaft of each man. The side straps, while thin, were strong to hold even at top erection. “Oil up, men.” Bottles of mineral oil were passed around. The men dutifully slathered the thick liquid onto their gleaming muscles. Soon they were ready, their muscles glowing fiercely in the night. “Line up, squad,” said Moster. “Adjust your posers. When you pull your slacks down, I want these dudes to see your top six inches of root and cockshaft.” He had stripped down himself and was now rubbing his own oil in to his mountainous black muscles. “I know with some of you that still leaves another 6 inches or more covered up. Right, Casey?” “More,” said Casey. Still, in the dark Casey turned deep red, still immediately shamed by the thoughts of his huge, unhideable cock. He still wasn’t quite over those years of taunting. Which always flashed his thoughts quickly to Tiffany. Good thing the ginger-haired terror wasn’t with them tonight. Casey always performed better when that boy was nowhere near. “Waring, get over here and do my back.” Waring went to Moster, dutifully pouring oil onto his calloused palms, mixing them back and forth as if he was tossing a muscle salad, and smacked Moster’s broad back hard, rubbing thick oil deep into Moster’s wide lats. The Sergeant felt the man’s rough blisters on his back and smiled. “You’ve been working, Private.” “Yes, sir, I sure have, sir.” The men fell into line, and awaited inspection. Moster paced in front of the muscle lineup and critically appraised his special forces team: Alvarez, Lang, Hension, Schumacher, and Waring. Washington, Abdul, Obatu, Gunst and Rockland. Muscle gods all. He nodded his satisfaction. “Line up according to height. Shortest man first. Private Hension, that’s you.” Hension was pushed to the head of the line. “Put the pretty boy first,” guffawed Obatu. Hension colored deeply, embarrassed as always to be referred to as the group ‘pretty boy’, but obeyed orders. “Dr. Irving, distribute White Caps,” Moster ordered. Irving passed the ration of capsules to the group. “It’s going that be that kind of showing, hunh?” chuckled Obatu. He popped a capsule and within seconds began to envision his powerful sexual fantasies come to life. He tugged slightly on his poser and glanced down to make sure the prominent, pulsing thick veins of his mighty dipping cockshaft were showing. He nudged Washington. “Check it out,” he said. Washington nodded. “Suckable,” he said, busily squeezing his own nipples into pointy hardness. Moster crossed behind the men and walked along, surveyed the lineup of rolling, hard, powerful glutes. He nodded. Huge mountains of gleaming, perfect, rock hard butt. “Butthole inspection,” he announced. Corporal Karim wished he had his butt plug with him, but didn’t betray himself with even a flicker across his stern face. He scowled, but even so, Moster knew what the man wanted. He glanced down at Karim’s tantalizingly firm, up-pointing glutes, round orbs of massive twin man muscle. “You clean, Corporal?” he asked. “Yes, sir.” “Good.” Moster knelt, lowered the man’s posers to his bulging hamstrings, and quickly inserted his thick fist deeply inside the man’s butthole, up to his wrist. Karim never flinched. Moster rotated his fist, and just as quickly withdrew, with a butthole POP!, noting to his satisfaction that the Corporal was indeed clean. “Keep your concentration.” He wiped his fist with anti-bacterial lube and moved on to the next man. The handsome muscleboy Hension was looking dreamy. Moster approached him. “Bend over.” “Yes, sir!” Hension bent over, showing his twin glutes of extreme hardness, shape and striation. Moster lowered the muscleboy’s posers, made a fist, and once again plunged his fist up to his wrist up Hension’s taut butthole, twisting, probing and turning. Like Abdul, Hension never even raised an eyebrow as his welcoming rosebud enveloped the powerful fist. He was excited about lay ahead. His cock began its 12-inch journey to solid stiffness. He pulled his posers back up with some difficulty and wrapped the taut cloth as best he could around his growing engine. Alvarez appeared serene. He knew a good Pose and Approve session was ahead. Lang glanced at him and smiled. Alvarez was best with an audience. An admiring audience. His cock twitched in anticipation. Moster was quick with Alvarez, nodding approval, quickly inserting a probing fist, and moving on to Lang, doing the same. Up the drive at the house, a curtain fluttered. Someone was watching. Alvarez nudged Lang. “What?” asked Lang, clueless. “You see that?” “See what?” Alvarez smiled. “This is gonna be fun.” He stood “Let’s see those biceps, Gunst,” Moster commanded. Gunst complied, and flexed his meaty guns. “26 inches this morning, sir.” “Excellent. Turn around and bend over.” Gunst complied and Moster’s fist entered his butthole. He nodded satisfaction. Moster continued down the line of musclemen, inspecting pecs, nipples, hard abs, and ending with each man by inserting a giant fist up an eager butthole. Finally it was Casey’s turn. “Ever been fisted before?” Moster asked crisply. Casey had to admit it. “Yes, sir.” He turned around and bent over, his perfect butt now in Moster’s face, his fists buried in his obliques, jutting out his butt. It was an incredible ass. Two round globes of muscular golden flesh, perfect, hard-as-nails ovals of sleek construction. Powerful, huge, an incredible human loading dock of rounded power. Inside the darkened buttcrack Moster could see close-up the throbbing, inviting deep of Casey’s perfect rosebud butthole. Moster plunged his fist in, deep and to the wrist, and turned it, pulling it out again after a minute. Clean as a whistle. “Good work, Rockland. “ Casey stood, turned and smiled. “I think you’re ready.” He turned to the driver, standing by the bus, impassively staring. “Ferdinand, Dr. Irving, come back in an hour. We should be done by then.” Then, quietly, he asked Irving, “Did the money come in yet?” “This afternoon, sir,” answered Irving. “$35,000.” “Good.” Moster took his place at the end of the line. “Dr. Shaft here yet?” “Inside, Sir.” Dr. Irving fiddled with his phone, getting frantic texts from Dr. Shaft. “Good. Give the men back their clothes. Men, get dressed.” Much fumbling and hopping about in the dark. “Move out, men.” The musclemen marched into the entranceway of the one-story cliff side glass house and, single file, marched into the brightly lit living room. ******* Click here to read the full chapter!
  7. Chapter 9: Good for Morale, Continued October 20th, 2021 1930 Hours Oral was hardly uncommon in the compound. In fact, Moster encouraged it. And Zaftig was fascinated by the men’s hunger for it, though he never took part. Not long after starting a P21 protocol, each man had developed insatiable an insatiable need to suck and be sucked. Cocksucking was therefore more than just a healthy release for the men: it was now mandatory. And though none of them would acknowledge themselves to be 100% gay, part of their acceptance into the program relied on each man’s private original tendencies towards pansexuality, boosted as they were by the behavioral blockers of P21. Over the years, each of the bodybuilders in Project Herculaneum had at one time or another sucked every other bodybuilder’s cock to full release many dozens of times. Often it happened in the showers after training, but sometimes it was after meals, as well. And as all were superlatively endowed with astonishing penises of uncommon weight, size, length, beauty and girth, no one was disappointed. Even Abdul Karim took part, much to the surprise of everyone. Though he never talked about it, even appearing bored, the more observant men noted a gleam in his eye each time he bent to service Gunst. Oral was against the rules on rest days. By the time training days came around again, the musclemen were already laughing, slapping each other on the backs during meals, and smacking their lips in anticipation. Fucking was another matter. All the men had been vaccinated against the virulent STDs that had long ravaged the world, and were now immune to any infection, their antibodies remorselessly attacking any invader. Butt fucking was an art. The soldiers were all equipped with powerful machines, all endowed with superb glutes, and all highly in touch with the pure waves of pleasure broadcast by their sensitive prostates. Good muscle butt fucking was serious stuff. As all the men were huge, heavy, and powerfully strong, it was like heavy lifting crossed with pure animal pleasure: one bull fucking another bull. Vigorously. Group fucks of spirited, high-energy muscle daisy chains were a once-a-month event, seriously organized and generally preserved on video for the records. Wearing full black leather masks in order to remain as anonymous as possible, and with deep black satin robes covering their individually distinctive bodies, the men gathered in the dimmed mess hall and connected their dicks to the next asshole in a line-up deliberately arranged by Moster. Muscle worship was not part of the evening. The point was prostate manipulation and bonding. Still, private fucking was not discouraged. A few of the men had distinct preferences for one another as fuck buddy, even as the cocksucking was group-wide and free-for-all. Of course, Schumacher had been fucking them all for years – except for Karim, of course. Apart from the daisy-chain sessions, no one dared to even approach Killer Karim from the rear - if he valued his teeth, that is. But so far, as far as he knew, no one man in particular had privately fucked Joe Tiffany – apart from the scheduled group daisy-chain fucks, where Moster was careful to make sure that the connections varied from session to session. Schumacher had fucked him just once in a group session, although as always as always he was masked and gowned. He could see through Tiffany’s mask that his eyes were rolling back in his head in pleasure, and Schumacher wasn’t sure Tiffany knew who he was. He knew it was Joe Tiffany’s muscular rear he was fucking, however, sliding up and down his supercharged big cock. That butt was pure, beautiful gold, a magically shaped combination of warm skin and raw, ripped power that was mind-boggling in its balance and tireless in its energy. Tiffany had taken charge of the fucking, as he gave it to the taller muscleman in the chain ahead of him, powerfully blasting forward into the glutes ahead of him, and, in perfect timing, also pumping his animal butt up and down on Schumacher’s cock with furiously blind energy. For his part, Tiffany knew full well whose cock had impaled his perfect butt that night. He didn’t share this information. From that night, he had a plan. Another plan, that is. In reality, all of the men were deeply aware of whose butts they were servicing, and who was manfully plugging his own from behind. The men had spent too many hours together in the rec room, on the workout floor, in classes and in the showers, not to be able to instantly recognize and distinguish each of his buddies. The wearing of the robes was nothing but a farce, but still they conceded, secretly further aroused by the spectacle of the volumes of black fabric draped with alluring mystery over each man’s rippling physique. Still, from that night on, Joe Tiffany knew that Herman Schumacher was just the man to regularly plow his supple, needy, bodybuilder-cupcakes behind. All he had to do was train him just a little bit over the following few months to ensure that he was captive, obedient, and would always be on call whenever Tiffany was of a mind to be mindlessly fucked. In the mean time, at night in his quarters his oversized dildo was getting the workout he bought it to do during one of his rare trips to town. He would energetically shove it deep into his butthole, rear his head back, close his eyes, and dream of Schumacher’s likely powerful thrusts. And, as Moster always said to Dr. Zaftig, who wasn’t entirely comfortable with the ritual behind the group fucks, “They need more sex than ordinary men. A lot more sex. Their metabolisms demand it. Besides – “ And Zaftig would say with him, in unison, “It’s good for morale. ” ******* Click here to read the full chapter....
  8. Excerpt fro "The Twenty" Chapter 7: Training Night 1: Good for Morale October 20th, 2021 1900 Hours The gym floor was buzzing with activity. Each man had a 5-gallon aluminum jug of water from which he regularly took enormous gulps, occasionally pausing to drench both himself and his training partners as needed to stave off the effects of the heat. All wore specially designed army green jockstraps. Regulation jocks were hardly adequate for their needs, and all 19 men (and especially Sergeant Moster) required XXX-large custom-fit pouches. Pendulously bulging, sweat, cum, and piss-stained, even these firm-gripping supersized mesh pouches could barely contain the musclemen’s super-sized genitalia. Gently curving cock shafts plunged from heavily veined, thin-skinned pelvic girdles on each man, leading to jaw-breaking cockheads. The jocks hugged the men’s cocks tightly, providing only barely adequate covering. The men’s powerful, over-developed glutes were fully exposed in back. Moster’s policy was that shorts and sweatpants were unnecessarily encumbering, and all around the room, as the men moved from weight to weight, their mountainous packages swayed freely back and forth. On most of the men, the top 5 to 6 inches of their veiny cocks were visible, plunging into their over-burdened pouches. Colorful do-rags, thick cable socks and black army boots completed their attire. On the floor, workout buddies Private Dan Gunst and Private Steve Waring were spotting each other through a sixth set of murderous curls. 24, 6'-10", 375 pounds, blond, huge, sporting a severe crew cut, and with a big nose and oversized hands, Gunst was a decidedly homely muscle giant, packed with imposing hardcore brawn. His bullish traps sloped massively from his 24” neck. The man’s 27-3/4 inch biceps were second only in girth and mass to Sgt. Moster’s, though he hadn’t yet attained the shapely cannonball peaks of Corporals Schumacher, Obatu, Blankenship and Alvarez. At 3. 8% bodyfat he tended towards a thin coat of luminous bloat in his 375-pound physique; he was all the same, super-humanly powerful, and during his training sessions the bloat seemed to melt into a latticework of shrink-wrapped vascularity. His partner, the 26-year old Steve Waring, was uncommonly good-looking, if not as big as Gunst at a mere 276 pounds of raw muscle. He was the far more ripped bodybuilder, having been in the program 2 years longer. Square-jawed, dimpled and brown-eyed, he always had a neatly groomed 2-day beard. As expected for a leaner man, Waring’s particular beauty lay in his batwing lat spread and chiseled abs, which tapered radically into a mere 29” waist. Now Waring was up. He tied on a pair of dirty wristbands and cinched them tightly, licked his lips, approached the 160-pound weight, and looked up at Gunst with a half smile. “What’re you waitin’ for? C’mon, get moving,” said Gunst impatiently. “It’s my third set. ” “I know. C’mon, man, you’re stalling. ” “You know what I want. ” Waring winked and grinned, and his dimples broadened deeply. Gunst rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Jesus. You and your third set mantras. ” He leaned into Waring, cupped his palm, and roughly took the jock pouch bearing his partner’s heavy balls into his calloused hand. He flicked Waring’s leathery testicles with his thick thumb and with strong fingers stroked the curling cock shaft tucked into the jock. Waring closed his eyes and exploded breath. Gunst fondled the cock, feeling where the 11” flaccid shaft coiled into a sagging downward-pointing firehose U-shape. His own cock began to stiffen as the pouch bearing Waring’s junk began to expand under his touch. He gave a last thumb flick and stepped back. “Yeah!” shouted Waring, and he squatted, grabbed the weight, stood, and reeled off 15 perfectly executed curls. The veins in his biceps expanded and contracted powerfully, eddying currents of blood in a river of muscle. 40 feet away at the incline bench press, Privates Aja Jin, Reed Bogarde and Derek Washington were taking turns doing dumbbell flyes with 125 pound weights. Ginger-haired Bogarde was up, while black muscle giant Private Washington spotted him, and the Asian Private Jin muttered hyper-masculine, mono-syllabic bon mots of encouragement. "C'mon. Get big. Get huge. C'mon man. Push. We're right here. " The three heavyweights were generally together. If they weren’t closely supervised, they’d spend more time than absolutely necessary on pec workouts. A year before they had petitioned Moster to be allowed to wear their prized brass chained nipple clamps during their training. Moster had refused at first, but after they appealed to Dr. Zaftig, he finally relented. “The pain inspires them,” Zaftig told him. Moster had to agree that this one time, he had been wrong to withhold his approval. And once again, it was good for morale. The chain to Bogarde’s clamps was draped over the t-shirt and lay across his mammoth, boyishly freckled pecs. He’d completed 11 reps seamlessly, but was now pausing, his arms open wide, the dumbbells held aloft. “Do, it, man,” he growled, and as Moster watched, Private Jin reached over and with gentle, adroit firmness, tugged slightly on the chain. Bogarde’s face contorted with pain. "Push, asswipe!" screamed Jin. Bogarde completed the set. “Thanks, buddy,” he breathed, as he slammed the weights to the floor and sat up. “Privates!” Moster called out. “Remember I want to see you remove those clamps every 10 minutes for an exact period of 20 more minutes!” “Yes, sir,” said Washington, about to take his seat on the bench for his set. “By my watch, it has been more than 11 minutes. Those clamps come off. Now. ” “Shit,” muttered Washington, but he duly turned to Private Jin. “Take care of this for me, and I’ll do for you. ” “Okay,” said Jin. He lifted Washington’s t-shirt, and gently unscrewed the clamp on the left nipple. Instantly Washington’s face contorted with pain. Jin leaned in and tenderly licked the swelling brown nipple with his tongue for a few moments. Washington nodded, and Jin repeated it for the right nipple. “I’m good,” he said. Jin lifted his shirt and Washington returned the favor, caressing Jin’s nipples with his tongue as he removed each biting clamp. “Hey, what about me?” Bogarde grinned, slipping off his t-shirt. His large nipples pointed heavily downward, with lusciously round, perfect aureoles. He pumped his 58” ripped chest fully, fists at his side, and stood smiling expectantly as his two muscle buddies moved into his side, their heads to Bogarde’s chest, each manning a clamped nipple. For Private Bogarde, the only good thing about the unclamping was the minute of stimulation he received from his buddies to keep the excruciating pain he so adored from making him instantly cum into his overstuffed jockstrap. Once he came, his partners knew the chest workout would be effectively derailed for a good 15 minutes, and so to prevent such time wasting, both men were inclined to be extra attentive. Over time, they developed a routine. Together the two bodybuilders carefully unscrewed the clamps, and swiftly leaned in to kiss, lick, bite, stroke, and caress Bogarde’s freed, erect nipples. Bogarde moaned, his eyes rolling to the ceiling, his cock now swelling threateningly in his jockstrap. “Shit,” he moaned, and his buddies glanced down at the straining pouch. His mushroom-round penis head poked heavily over the top and began to climb up his abs. Jin and Washington knew that he might shoot his load at any moment. The two double-timed their nipple licks. After a minute, their tender administrations allowed him to regain control. He nodded – he was okay – and they backed away. Satisfied, Bogarde pumped his pecs to their fullest size and inspected them both closely, nodding with serious, unsmiling self-approval. Wet with spit, his stiffened nipples bloomed. “Freaky,” he breathed. His buddies nodded. “Awesome pecs,” said Jin. “Awesome. ” Bogarde stuffed his receding cock back into his jock, and winked at Moster. Moster watched. When it was clear Private Bogarde was past danger, he called out again. “Back to your work. You have twenty more minutes before you can put those damn clamps on again. ” The men nodded dutifully. Washington sat, grabbed a dumbbell in each hand, hoisted them to his knees, leaned back, and effortlessly pushed them both to the ceiling. His chest expanded mightily. Bogarde shouted the count. “1! 2! 3!” Jin spotted, his powerful hands lightly meeting Washington’s elbows with each rep. For a moment, Bogarde fondled his smarting nipples tenderly. He caught Moster’s stern eye and, still counting Washington’s reps, nodded sheepishly and slipped back into his sopping t-shirt. ****** Click here to read the full chapter!
  9. Excerpt from "The Twenty" Chapter 6: Casey Is Discovered 2014 The day that Casey Rockland first set foot inside a gym, he was a shy, tongue-tied, lonely, oversized 12-year old. He stood, frightened and abashed, at the front desk of Raw Weight. He had walked around the block for an hour before he found the courage to walk through the dark-glass swinging doors. Miles stood behind the desk. “Yes, son?” he asked after a moment. God, this kid has potential, he thought. Gosh, he’s handsome, Casey thought. He gawked at the huge, veiny arms that poured from the short sleeves of Miles’ sports shirt. The hugely rolling biceps made his dick twitch a little. From the moment Casey first laid eyes on Miles Donovan, he thought he was the handsomest, smartest, most masculine, most muscular man he had ever met in his life. Just the sight of Miles’ hardcore physique, casually displayed in loose-fitting slacks and a navy blue sports shirt boasting the Raw Weight logo, made Casey’s well-hidden, oversized teenage member leap to attention. It was love at first sight. Which was not lost on Miles. “C-can I join?” Casey finally stammered out. “You want to train here?” “Yes, sir.” “How old are you, son?” “Twelve,” answered Casey honestly. Miles paused, and then asked kindly, “Where do you live?” “San Jose Boys’ Home.” Aha, thought Miles. His heart went out to the beautiful, over-sized, sad-faced kid. “Of course you can join. Ever trained before?” Casey’s heart leapt. “No, sir!” “How much can you pay?” Casey’s mind was racing. How could he pay for this? He needed it so bad. “I can work for you, sir!” he blurted. “I can clean the locker rooms, and the toilets, and take out the garbage, and paint the walls, and – “ If Miles had allowed himself, a tear would have come into his eye. Besides, this kid had overwhelming genetic promise. He held up a hand. Casey fell silent, hopeful, tense, waiting. “No need for all that. Of course you can train here. We’ll discuss money some other time. Let’s get you started.” Casey’s heart leapt for joy. “Do you have workout clothes?” “N-no, sir.” “Okay, well, let’s get you fitted out. Come on along with me. Sid, take the desk,” Miles shot to the flirting young muscleboy trainer who was chatting up one of the wide-eyed fitness babes who trolled the workout floor, looking for available young muscle studs.“ And try to keep your mind on your work.” Back to Casey. “What’s your name, son?” “Casey Rockland.” “Well, Casey Rockland, I think you might have found your new home. Let’s see what you got. ” He moved out from behind the desk and approached Casey. Casey’s heart was still leaping. Miles Donovan was an astonishing man. Casey had never dreamed that such a huge, handsome, masculine, muscular man would ever take notice of him. Like an eager puppy, he fell into step behind Miles, who was leading him out onto the workout floor. There, dozens of men and women of various sizes, states, dress, and degrees of sweat were toiling away at nameless, complicated activities involving weights, machines, benches, bars, cables, racks, mats, balls, rings, and rope. One or two looked up curiously at Miles and the gawky big kid trotting behind him. William Obatu was one of those who looked up. Already in enrolled in Project Herculaneum, the handsome black African muscle monster Obatu was allowed to steal away from the compound to his home front of Raw Weight (with occasional forays to the 3rd floor, where he regularly held personal worship sessions). “Who’s that big kid?” he asked Miles one evening a few weeks later on the 3rd floor. He was working arms, doing slow concentration curls, generally ignoring the rich twinky boy on his knees before him, begging to worship the bulging cannonball biceps. “What kid?” asked Miles innocently, walking by. Obatu continued doing curls and feigned the same indifference that Miles was displaying. “You know. The big kid. Downstairs. He ever come up here to 3?” “Naw. Too young. ” “Pleeeeeaazzze…. . ” begged the handsome kneeling twink on his knees, reaching up in hopes to get a quick fingertip brush of iron muscles. Obatu glanced down, a little impatiently, and reracked the weight. “Whatchu want?” he demanded, and slapped the kid’s face. “Some ‘a’ this?” He flexed his biceps. The kid moaned gratefully. “Shut up, fuckface,” he commanded. Flexxxxxx… “Boom,” he said. “25 inches. Feel ‘em. ” Back to Miles. “Saving him for yourself?” “Nope. Saving him for your boss. And your commanding officer. Is Tyrone any good?” Obatu was perplexed. “Who’s Tyrone?” He continued flexing, gazing admiringly at his peaks. Miles pointed down at the kid who now was both reaching in vain to touch the iron biceps while feverishly licking the heavy downward-pointing bulge in Obatu’s tiny, heavily packed posers. Obatu shuddered with pleasure but covered. “These posers are too damn small. ” “You must be used to it by now. ” “You never get used to it. ” “I repeat, is Tyrone any good?” “What do you care? I’m paying $5,000 a month to be up here,” mumbled Tyrone, his mouth now scooping up the thick black muscle cock that tumbled from Obatu’s straining posers. Obatu glanced up. “Trust fund kid,” Miles explained. “Oh. ” He looked back down again and flexed his biceps again, a little more respectfully. “Hope you’re enjoying yourself. ”Tyrone moaned passionately and sucked vigorously. After a moment, Miles spoke. “Looks like fun. Mind if I join you?” “Oh, if you’re gonna make a party of it, be my guest,” said Obatu, stepping aside. Miles, still dressed, stepped in and unzipped his pants. His big cock poured out. In an instant the nebbishy rich boyTyrone had both big bodybuilders’ cocks in his mouth. His cheeks bloomed with the pressing pressure of double cockheads. “Flex for him. He likes it,” said Obatu. Miles flexed his powerful silver daddy 23-inch biceps. A slight tearing sound was heard. “Damn. Another shirt. ” He decided to take it out on Tyrone. He plucked the cock from his mouth and slapped his handsome smooth young cheeks vigorously with the now hard-as-steel shaft. “Nice move,” said Obatu. “Let me try that. Hey, asswipe. Over here.” And he smacked Tyrone’s face with his black cock. Soon Tyrone’s head was whipping from side to side, back and forth, his face being buffeted by heavy cock slaps. "Take us both, boy. One after the other," ordered Miles. Tyrone went into a frenzy, first sucking Obatu's cock, then twisting his head and sucking Miles' cock, back and forth. "Yeah, good boy," crooned Miles. A few minutes later the musclemen both shot, coating Tyrone's face with heavy layers of thick, creamy cum. Tyrone moaned as thick spurt after thick spurt emerged from each man's pisshole, painting his face, covering him with cum. “That was fun,” said Obatu. “Yeah, let’s do it again some time,” said Miles, walking away. "Clean that up, boy," he ordered as he strode away, squatting slightly as a zipped up his pants, putting his heavy, dripping cock away. Obatu resumed his workout, Miles headed back towards his office. Tyrone lay on a bench, ecstatically spent. “Now!” called out Miles, without looking back. “And use your tongue.” Tyrone leapt eagerly to the matted floor and did as he was told. ***** Click here to read the full chapter!
  10. Links to other chapters: 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 M/M "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" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets Chapter 23 Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, And Makes a New Friend February 10th, 2022 2110 Hours Casey knew he could trust Ensign Victor. Sam was, after all, a muscle worshipper. And Casey was close to the best there was. Casey had long dreamed of his very own muscle worshipper. The legend that bodybuilders are aloof and don’t want to be worshipped? Bullshit. Bodybuilders wanted their very own private worshippers just as much as muscle schmoes wanted bodybuilders. If Casey knew anything at all, he knew that. He’d learned it in LA. And now he was going to tell Sam all about it. And then tell Sam that he knew just exactly what he was. And Sam, of course, was all ears, all solicitation and comfort. Even as he felt his own excitement growing. He felt his cock, too, burgeoning in his trousers, until he didn’t think he could stand it much more. But of course, he’d have to stand it. At least until Casey was finished talking. And so, Sam listened. Patiently, as it happened. And Casey talked and talked. As Sam’s cock got stiffer and stiffer. “So talk about something else. Do you have friends?” “Well. The guys from the cadet dorm, I guess. But I don’t see them anymore. Guess I don’t get out as much as I’d like.” “No friends outside the compound?” “Naw.” “Are the men of The Twenty your friends?” “Well, I’m one of them….” Casey seemed uncomfortable, so Sam moved on. “Family?” Casey looked down, then looked back at Sam. “The Twenty are my family,” he said after a moment. He paused. ‘Guess we seem to be some kind of crazy cult, hunh?” “Kind of, yes.” Casey seemed to want to ask something. Sam half smiled, waiting. Finally he prompted. “Yes?” Casey was clearly embarrassed, but Sam could see determination in his eyes. “It’ll wait. What else?” “Well, how strong are you?” “Pretty strong. Maybe a little stronger than the others. I can bench 800 pounds. Easy. Curl 350. I run really, really fast, too. Oh, and I’m a good diver. I don’t know how that happened, but I am. I can do anything on a diving board. Don’t even think about it. And I look awesome in a Speedo. But I’m not as strong as Moster. Or Abdul. No one is. They could snap me in two.” Casey didn’t mention the Turkish wrestling night when they got covered in oil and he beat Karim Abdul. No sense in scaring Sam by acknowledging that maybe, yeah, just maybe, he was the strongest man there – and just 19. “I don’t believe that.” “Well, maybe not in two. But he could fuck me up pretty good if he wanted to. He’s an extreme fighter.” “I thought you were, too.” “Well, yeah…. .” “You got thrown out of school for fighting.” “Only once. I only fought once,” he said. “Some guy pissed you off?” Casey smiled. “18 guys pissed me off.” “Wow.” “Yeah, wow. I got ‘em all good, though.” “One after the other?” “All at once.” Casey grinned cockily. “I beat the shit out of all of them.” “Why?” “I got tired of them making fun of me.” “They made fun of you? Sounds dangerous.” “I wasn’t as big then.” “No, of course not. Why were they making fun of you?” Casey looked hard at Sam, and bit his lip. Then he shrugged his shoulders as if determined. He stood up, towering over the table. Sam watched him evenly. Casey reached down and unzipped the steel fly of his pants. He reached his hand in and pulled out his enormous, limp cock. He squatted so that his hips were even with the tabletop. It flopped heavily and noisily on the surface. Thwack. "…. And, boom… there it is,” said Casey. “There it is.” He looked up, shrugged and smiled shyly. “Yes, there it is.” “See, it’s really, really big.” Sam took in the tool’s impossible size for a moment, and whistled. “Yes, I see that. Nice,” he said sweetly. “It’s very big.” “It’s huge,” said Casey, with a sweet blend of sadness and pride. “It’s more than a 15 inches long. It’s like a fucking snake with a life of it’s own. I get hard all the time. I could never hide it in anything I wore. The kids at the home used to laugh at me, call me freak.” “They were jealous, no doubt.” “Probably, yeah, maybe, but fuck. But I got so sick of it.” He started to stuff it back into his jeans. “So one night, I beat them all up.” Sam reached out and lightly touched Casey’s hand. “It’s okay. Keep it out.” Casey looked up, hopefully. “You like it?” “I do.” Casey looked hard at him. He was suddenly shy. He wanted to tell Sam about the field trips for worship, and there was a lot more to tell, too. But he wasn’t certain how it would sound. Sam wanted to help him. “Was there a first time you were worshipped by ‘investors’? By a group of men you didn’t know before?” “Yeah…” “For money?” Pause. “Uh hunh.” Casey was clearly now afraid Sam would judge him. “A lot of money?” Casey didn’t quite know how to tell him exactly how much. “I’m not a prostitute.” “No, I know that. You’re not,” said Sam, looking pensively at Casey’s huge penis extending out of his open fly, lying quietly on the tabletop. “What you are is an uncommonly huge, sexual, handsome 19-year old bodybuilder with a need to show … what you have.” Casey looked at him gratefully. Now he knew he was falling in love with the calm young Navy officer. But even here, in the relative safety of his quarters at Valhalla Labs, and with the gym and training rooms and all the other men so close by, and especially after that wacky muscleshow earlier in the evening to the military brass, the sweet-natured muscle giant was suddenly seized with nervousness. But Sam seemed okay with it. And, indeed, he was. “And…how was it? The first time you were worshipped by strangers?” “Okay. I guess it was okay.” He paused, and his eyes flickered a bit. With excitement, at the memory. “Who were they?” “Some Hollywood dudes.” Sam suddenly recalled. Was that last year in LA the night that…? Oh, God! YES. It was briefly in the TMZ reports late last year, the latest conservative blast against the Hollywood Liberal Elite, some big party night that went south and required some hospitalizations and a lot of huge money. And then – silence on it. All stories withdrawn. No word on it. He’d googled it a few times. Nothing. But Casey remembered. In fact, it was incredible – all those fat old rich men schmoes, and then his new friend Mike later on privately swooning, licking his pecs and swooning over his big biceps and with his sweet little face in his hard butt and then closely inspecting with awe his mighty machine…. But he wasn’t quite sure about how all this would sound to Sam. There was a pause. Sam gazed at the muscle monster boy evenly a moment. “You can tell me all about it. I’m not here to judge.” Casey remembered the night. And his new friend, Mike. “I wonder how I’m gonna tell Sam about Mike?” he worried to himself. After a brief pause, Casey made his decision, and manfully, went on with his story. December 5th, 2021 Los Angeles: 2100 Hours The bus pulled up the drive at 9 PM, the first stop of the evening. It was a large cliff side home high in the Hollywood Hills, lavish and dark, with a glimmering Olympic-sized pool in the back and fountains quietly spraying gallons of illegal water. Beyond and far below, the glittering lights of LA shone in the far distance. Zaftig’s longtime off campus associate, the puny weasel Dr. Shaft, would be waiting inside, in attendance with a group of 9 investors, all quite anxious to see the young gods in action. The bodybuilders filed off the bus in the dark. “Golly, who lives here?” asked Hension, awestruck by the size of the house. “Some Hollywood dude movie producer,” muttered Lang. “Who cares? Time to FLEX.” Casey barely noticed. He was eager, for soon he’d be headed back to his private muscle planet, the place he first visited on the morning his cadet buddies came to say goodbye and stayed a little to admire his muscles. He was all ready to flex for these dudes. He neither knew nor cared who they were. Sergeant Moster, who had gotten off the bus first, quietly barked orders in the large circular drive. Moster, who had gotten off the bus first, quietly barked orders in the large circular drive. “Inspection. Strip down, men,” he commanded. “I don’t want to keep our hosts waiting.” The ten musclemen hopped and danced in the half light, removing slacks, baggies, t-shirts, jeans, shorts, underwear, jock straps, thongs, and boots as poor long-suffering Dr. Irving ran from man to man, frantically gathering up discarded clothing, quickly organizing as to owner, and distributing the proper poser to the proper man. Each poser was personally assigned, custom-tailored to cut across inches south of the lower abs, reveal generous slices of meaty glutes in back, and with frontal sag sufficient to generously reveal the top six inches of root and thick, plunging shaft of each man. The side straps, while thin, were sufficiently strong to hold even at top erection. “Oil up, men.” Bottles of mineral oil were passed around, and the men dutifully applied slathers of oil to their muscles. Finally they were ready, their muscles gleaming in the night. “Line up, squad,” said Moster. “Adjust your posers. When you pull your pants down, I want these dudes to see your top six inches of root and cockshaft.” He had stripped down himself and was now rubbing his own oil in to his mountainous black muscles. “I know with some of you that still leaves another 6 inches or more covered up. Right, Casey?” “More,” said Casey. Still, in the dark Casey turned deep red, still immediately shamed by the thoughts of his huge, unhideable cock. He still wasn’t quite over those years of taunting. Which always flashed his thoughts quickly to Tiffany. Good thing the ginger-haired terror wasn’t with them tonight. Casey always performed better when that boy was nowhere near. “Waring, get over here and do my back.” Waring went to Moster, dutifully pouring oil onto his calloused palms, mixing them back and forth as if he was tossing a muscle salad, and smacked Moster’s broad back hard, rubbing thick oil deep into Moster’s wide lats. The Sergeant felt the man’s rough blisters on his back and smiled. “You’ve been working, Private.” “Yes, sir, I sure have, sir.” The men fell into line, and awaited inspection. Moster paced in front of the muscle lineup and critically appraised his special forces team: Alvarez, Lang, Hension, Schumacher, and Waring. Washington, Abdul, Obatu, Gunst and Rockland. Muscle gods all. He nodded his satisfaction. “Line up according to height. Shortest man first. Private Hension, that’s you.” Hension was pushed to the head of the line. “Put the pretty boy first,” guffawed Obatu. Hension colored deeply, embarrassed as always to be referred to as the group ‘pretty boy’, but obeyed orders. “Dr. Irving, distribute White Caps,” Moster ordered. Irving passed the ration of capsules to the group. “It’s going that be that kind of showing, hunh?” chuckled Obatu. He popped a capsule and within seconds began to envision his powerful sexual fantasies come to life. He tugged slightly on his poser and glanced down to make sure the prominent, pulsing thick veins of his mighty dipping cockshaft were showing. He nudged Washington. “Check it out,” he said. Washington nodded. “Suckable,” he said, busily squeezing his own nipples into pointy hardness. Moster crossed behind the men and walked along, surveyed the lineup of rolling, hard, powerful glutes. He nodded. Huge mountains of gleaming, perfect, rock hard butt. “Butthole inspection,” he announced. Corporal Karim wished he had his butt plug with him, but didn’t betray himself with even a flicker across his stern face. He scowled, but even so Moster knew what the man wanted. He glanced down at Karim’s achingly firm glutes. “You clean, Corporal?” he asked. “Yes, sir.” “Good.” Moster knelt, lowered the man’s posers for a moment to quad height, and quickly inserted his thick fist deeply up inside the man’s butthole, up to his wrist. Karim never flinched. Moster rotated his fist, and just as quickly withdrew, with a butthole POP!, noting to his satisfaction that the Corporal was indeed clean. “Keep your concentration.” He wiped his fist with anti-bacterial lube and moved on to the next man. Hension was looking apprehensive. Moster approached him. “Any women inside?” Hension asked nervously. “Why do you ask, Private?” “Sir, for my best performance, sir, I like to get my face slapped first. And during. By a pretty girl with muscles.” “Not here tonight,” said Moster. “Bend over.” “Yes, sir!” Hension bent over, showing his twin glutes of extreme hardness, shape and striation. Moster lowered the muscleboy’s posers, made a fist, and once again plunged his fist up to his wrist up Hension’s taut butthole, twisting, probing and turning. Like Abdul, Hension never even raised an eyebrow as his welcoming rosebud enveloped the powerful fist. He was excited about lay ahead. His cock began its 12-inch journey to solid stiffness. He pulled his posers back up with some difficulty and wrapped the taut cloth as best he could around his growing engine. Alvarez appeared serene. He knew a good Pose and Approve session was ahead. Lang glanced at him and smiled. Alvarez was best with an audience. An admiring audience. His cock twitched in anticipation. Moster was quick with Alvarez, nodding approval, quickly inserting a probing fist, and moving on to Lang, doing the same. Up the drive at the house, a curtain fluttered. Someone was watching. Alvarez nudged Lang. “What?” asked Lang, clueless. “You see that?” “See what?” Alvarez smiled. “This is gonna be fun.” He stood “Let’s see those biceps, Gunst,” Moster commanded. Gunst complied, and flexed his meaty guns. “26 inches this morning, sir.” “Excellent. Turn around and bend over.” Gunst complied and Moster’s fist entered his butthole. He nodded satisfaction. Moster continued down the line of musclemen, inspecting pecs, nipples, hard abs, and ending with each man by inserting a giant fist up an eager butthole. Finally it was Casey’s turn. “Ever been fisted before?” Moster asked crisply. Casey had to admit it. “Yes, sir.” He turned around and bent over, his perfect butt now in Moster’s face, his fists buried in his obliques, jutting out his butt. It was an incredible ass. Two round globes of muscular golden flesh, perfect, hard-as-nails ovals of sleek construction. Powerful, huge, an incredible human loading dock of rounded power. Inside the darkened buttcrack Moster could see close-up the throbbing, inviting deep of Casey’s perfect butthole. Moster plunged his fist in, and turned it, pulling it out again after a minute. Clean as a whistle. “Good work, Rockland. “ Casey stood, turned and smiled. “I think you’re ready.” He turned to the driver, standing by the bus, impassively staring. “Ferdinand, Dr. Irving, come back in an hour. We should be done by then.” Then, quietly, he asked Irving, “Did the money come in yet?” “This afternoon, sir,” answered Irving. “$35,000.” “Good.” Moster took his place at the end of the line. “Shaft here yet?” “Inside, Sir.” Dr. Irving fiddled with his phone, getting frantic texts from Dr. Shaft. “Good. Give the men back their clothes. Men, get dressed.” Much fumbling and hopping about in the dark. Then - “Move out, men.” The musclemen marched into the entranceway of the one-story cliff side glass house and, single file, marched into the brightly lit living room. Inside, nine manicured, pampered, plumpish Hollywood movie execs, dressed in expensive Italian suits, ties down, were draped around the room, propped up on large plush sofas, drinks in hand, cellphones and Blackberries at the ready, waiting inside. Two or three were handsome enough to gain Alvarez’s slight interest. The smell of marijuana wafted through the air. They’d been drinking. And smoking. And snorting lines of coke. In fact, they all appeared smashed. And ready to see serious muscle. The tenth, a slender young man, sat separately, almost shyly, by himself, across the room on a smaller sofa, right before the vast picture window with the lights of LA twinkling in the distance. “Fucking finally! Bring on the talent!” one of the fat schmoes yelled as the men entered. But as the musclemen got into the room and turned, facing their clients, at full attention, the movie dudes were stunned into silence. “Holy shit…look at them!” "Fuckin' A..." For their part, the musclemen were themselves stunned into a moment silence by the lavishness of the room that extended before them, and the extraordinary view of the city through the plate glass windows, far, far below. The drapes had been opened. The moon shone full in the sky. “Wow,” breathed Lang. “Where the fuck are we?” "Fuckin' A is right," whispered Hension. There were a few moments on silence while everyone was amazed, albeit for different reasons. Sergeant Moster was first to retain his composure. "Gentlemen, thank you for inviting us for the evening. We think we have quite a show ready for your personal delectation..." Dr. Shaft rose from a white sofa. Even as familiar with the muscle in the room as he was, he was never less than stunned each time he saw more than three of the bodybuilders together. The sight of ten of them, including the impossibly giant Sergeant Moster, was enough to momentarily knock the air out of him. “Yes, thank you, and good evening, Sergeant Moster. Good evening, men.” He whispered to Moster. "I'll handle this." Dr. Shaft was excited. The men had not only arrived on time, they all looked….well, incredible. Beyond incredible, in fact. Unreal. Inhuman. The years of P-21 meshed with hardcore raw training had built magnificent muscle specimens unlike the world had ever seen before. No bodybuilding contest – and Shaft had attended hundreds – ever had the kind of raw muscular development that stood before them now. It was as if every muscle on every man had a muscle. Heaped pounds of raw lean man beef. It was staggering. Moster hid his irritation, already planning the next black eye he'd happily plaster on Shaft's face in their next private. “Good evening, Dr. Shaft. Men, you all know ....Dr. Shaft.” Hi, yeah, sure, hello, uh hunh, yeah we see him, etc etc, came from the musclemen. “May I introduce the men to their hosts?” asked Dr. Shaft ceremoniously And the lineup of musclemen turned to their agog clients. Hands at their sides, fists clenched, veins popping, tight white shirts wrapped around massive physiques. Legs spread wide. Quads bursting out of slacks. Biceps about to tear shirt sleeves. Fly bulges loomed to the floor. And the clients, schmoes all, stared back. Breathing. Panting. Disbelieving the universe of muscle they were seeing. Alvarez, Lang, Hension, Schumacher, and Waring. Washington, Abdul, Obatu, Gunst. And Casey Rockland. Team leader, the massive Sergeant Moster. The muscle team was here at last. The clients, schmoes all, stared back. Breathing. Panting. “Fuck, man. They’re fucking huge,” said one of the fattest men. He gulped. “Whatta they gonna do to us?” “You mean…what are they going to do for you,” said Sergeant Moster. “May I present…. nine of the most muscular men on the planet today.” He paused, glanced at his watch. “You have two hours.” He turned to the men. “Men, you may go to work.” The men moved into a line, first marching single file and then fanning out towards the edge of the broad staircase leading down to the sunken living room. At the top step they stopped, stood still, and displayed themselves proudly. Below them, the room of wealthy Hollywood elite schmoes fell into shocked silence, turned their heads, and stared agog at the massive muscle before them. The schmoes were seated together, as if for protection, on a heavy plush creamy white sofa, overloaded with soft, luxurious pillows, extending twenty-five feet across the room from the large picture window. It was a perfect setting for bodybuilder muscle worship. And there they stood. Calm. Blank faced. Each man handsomer than the next. Perfect tanned skin. Waistlines no larger than 32 inches on men each weighing up to 300 pounds – and more. It was going to be a insane night of muscle worship. And a profitable one, too. Shaft had been circulating rumors inside the Hollywood mill for years about this army of ungodly huge and handsome musclemen, and finally had assembled just the sample group of mega-rich movers and shakers that he needed for the initial private presentation. This meant big bucks in the future for Valhalla Labs. Sergeant Moster had delivered as promised, in spite of Dr Zaftig’s worry and misgivings back at the Valhalla Lab. But Shaft had faith. He knew these musclemen. He’d had too many private sessions to not know a little about them all by now. As long as they all behaved, that is, and no one got seriously hurt. They were hard to control, he knew, once they really started flexing and posing and showing it all off with feats of ungodly strength and their insatiable need to dominate. He knew all about his own tendency to wind up in the San Jose ER after particularly enthusiastic sessions with Moster. But, damn, he just couldn’t help it. Shaft had to admit the fantasy of Moster’s (relatively speaking) lightly damaging face punches and the spirited butt spankings he received as punishment for his own poor cock and body and his lame cocksucking was, well, just what he deserved, being the worm he was. And the fantasy memory of all that abuse kept him masturbating feverishly for months after. He hoped his Hollywood schmoes might fare a little lighter punishment than the stuff that he was now addicted to – unless of course they wanted the same treatment? But then, it might get picked up as a tasty little news item, all over TMZ. That couldn’t happen. Could it? It could rock the Hollywood establishment. Top studio heads beaten by massive, crazed bodybuilders in bizarre Hollywood Hills muscle showdown. No. That wouldn’t do. It was all pretty dangerous, but, what the hell. Shaft licked his lips with drooling anticipation and inspected the astounding male muscle display that confronted them all. The ten magnificent young men, plus the-even-huger-still Sergeant Moster, were now lined up, beefy shoulder to shoulder, round and perfect tri-headed delts touching massive delts. They stood in a perfect lineup of muscle on the steps leading from the 20’ ceilinged foyer down into the sunken living room. The entry way was a perfect dais for display, more than 40’ long, roomy enough for a panorama of beautiful beef and rippling vascularity unlike anything the staring schmoes down below had ever seen, or even imagined, before. And even fully dressed in tight, tight t-shirts and ferociously clinging tan slacks, the men were an unbelievable sight to behold. As if carefully posed, men all stood casually with their hands planted on powerful hips, legs spread wide. Muscles gleamed and bulged. Physiques rippled enticingly, displayed for delectation in the clinging super-wide white spandex t-shirts. Every vein, every muscular bulge, every pound of sinew, every cut, every hard-packed slab of fatless lean and bulging male beef was on display for the stunned, wealthy Hollywood insiders. “Jesus fucking Christ,” someone mumbled. “Look at them. They’re not human.” Muscle worship was what these muscle giants lived for. Shaft knew that. Well, it was one of the things they lived for. He was fairly certain they also lived for training, lifting, eating, sex with each other and as many partners, male or female, that they could find. And – of course- getting huger every day. But Shaft couldn’t be sure that muscle worship might not be even more important. And of course, it made sense. After all, weren’t they all getting bigger, handsomer, stronger, more muscular, and more aggressive just so they could be worshipped? It hardly mattered, no more than the original intent of Dr. Zaftig all those years ago when he first started research on creating the ultimate team of massive male bodybuilders. For there they were, eleven muscle gods, still and easy, unmoving, posed, both tense and calm, showcasing magnificent, perfect male muscularity. And there were nine others, just as huge, handsome, and hung as the men before them, back at the lab. The atmosphere in the room crackled. And Shaft could feel it now, could even see the musclemen’s eager anticipation of the impeding worship of their physiques. Their excitement was just beginning to show, starting to loom now, like a faint musky aroma, getting stronger, seeping into the room. They seemed to be getting bigger, to be growing before them. They were certainly measurably heavier in their tight slacks, their flies just beginning to bulge forward and droop down with pointed pushing, with throbbing penis weight, their erections about to bloom and show and push out and forward and up inside their tightening pants. And considering the price tag of upwards of $85,000 the Hollywood elite schmoes had laid out for this private muscle show, inwardly he was relieved that it had all started out without the slightest hitch. And the new man, Casey Whatever His Name was, was there, too, there on the end. The handsomest of all? Shaft wasn’t sure. And, per Zaftig’s regular reports, on his way to being the biggest? And only 19 years old, too. The promise that lay ahead. He’d better be, at a price tag of $15,000 just for his appearance. That shorter man was also improbably handsome. Shaft studied the impressively beautiful Chris Hension, with his perpetual half erection always looming in his pants, thick masculine dark brown nipples, devilish smile and darting eyes; he was certainly a square-jawed piece of eye candy. And then there was Alvarez, always with the thick-lipped handsome Lang nearby – moist lips, always slightly shiny, always recently licked, lips that Shaft just knew glided lightly and lovingly up and down, root to head, over the long, thick penis shaft of his muscle husband Alvarez during their after-hours Pose and Approve sessions. And the scary hairy Karim Abdul, glowering in the middle of the lineup, with the shorter beefslab hardass Schumacher right next to him – weren’t they each other’s nemesis? Maybe they got hard posing together? And that giant Gunst, he of the amazing nearly 28 inch biceps. Shaft hurried over to Moster, just stepping down into the sunken living room, extending a wet hand. “Sergeant Moster, we’re so glad to see you -- ” He was suddenly cut off. Suddenly, from that muscle dais above, came an outraged roar. “Are you who the fuck I think you are?!!!” It was Gunst. He was shouting now, pointing down at someone in the room, at one of the waiting shmoes. All stopped and turned, stunned into silence. On the sofa was sprawled a fat, unshaved, tall mass of slob schmoe, who looked up from his phone, startled and scared. “Yeah, YOU, You FUCKING ASSHOLE!” “Do I know you…?” the schmoe blubbered. “I know you! You fucking asshole! I know you! You preyed on my sister!” Gunst was roaring now. “Get that worthless worm over here!” Waring and Lang stepped down, as if on cue, striding manfully into the room, heading to the creamy white sofa, then grabbing and holding down the particularly fat and ugly Hollywood former studio head, now sprawling agog, to prevent him from bolting. “Never mind, I’ll fuck him up myself…. ” Striding forward, every muscle in his massive frame now quivering with rage, Gunst pushed past Waring and Lang and into the room. The man was an impressive, fearful sight, his veins throbbing, ripped muscle on a mission, his huge pecs roiling and bursting in his tight t-shirt, his piston-thick arms slabs of disciplined beef, his fists clenched and ready to do damage. Casey was stunned. His mouth open, agape. He’d never heard the normally gentle giant Gunst so angry before, never even envisioned it. And he seemed crazed, pointing down at the terrified schmoe, accusing, now standing wide-legged and in full aggressive mode. “You don’t know me!” he screamed. “I don’t know you, either! What is this??? Dr. Shaft??” Shaft came forward, frightened but trying to maintain control. “Corporal Gunst?...” he started. He suddenly felt Moster’s hand on his shoulders, stopping him, pulling him back. Shaft tripped and fell on the carpet. Moster helped him up, shot him a quick look and a little smile, and putting a finger to his lips, shook his head. He mouthed, “No no.” He smiled. Shaft froze and, regaining his balance, stepped back, and did as he was told. Gunst was now standing above the cowering, terrified schmoe, roaring, his legs spread wide, his thick fists plunged into his obliques, ripped intercostals bulging like bricks, htting a powerful front lat spread. He rotated on his heels to show his lats at different angles. His pecs soared to the ceiling, his nipples went taut and pointed downward to the floor, bulging in his t-shirt, the luscious brown areola outlined. “You wanna see muscles, you fucking asshole?? check out these muscles!!! FUCKING WORTHLESS WORM!!! I’M GONNA SHOW YOU WHAT THESE BIG MUSCLES CAN REALLY DO!!!” From the facing sofa by the picture window, the small pipsqueak pencil neck schmoe was seemingly ignoring it all. Transfixing, he was staring directly at Casey now, seemingly unaware of the threatening Gunst, who was apparently on the verge of beating the fat schmoe to death right across the room from him. Casey, ever sensitive, knew he was being stared at. He turned his head slightly and returned the pencilneck’s gaze. He smiled. The pencilneck smiled back, tentative, shy. Casey began to do a slow, subtle, bubbling pec dance in his t-shirt, his mammoth chest bouncing slightly, right to left, left to right, his nipples taut and pushing powerfully into the tight fabric. He smiled a little more broadly. “You like that?” he mouthed. The pencilneck stared and nodded slightly. He did like it. Gunst was now in full flex fury mode. He glided from his threatening front lat spread into an equally threatening front double biceps. POW! he shouted, Just Look at these fucking guns! BOOM! His monster biceps broiled with iron packed sinew, laced with mammoth, pulsing cephalic veins. BAM!!! he added, extending his meaty arms to their full length, working the fingers of his powerful fists before clenching them into furious fist-weapons. “These are muscles, asshole!” he shouted. “And they’re comin’ to get YOU!” And then he bent, slowly, inexorably, coming closer, this huge mass of muscle and rage, smashing his fist in his meaty palm, and grabbed the schmoe by the shirt front, pulling his terrified ugly face up to his spitting, furious mouth. “I’m gonna FUCK YOU UP. I’m gonna beat the shit out of you, and I’m not even gonna touch you with THESE fists. I’m JUST gonna do it with my pecs. And then with my dick. I’m gonna beat your face bloody with my pecs and my dick!” The schmoe was blubbering now. Casey regarded it all somewhat calmly. He’d seen such behavior before at the Home, of course, and the Twenty were always wild and crazy like this on the gym floor, particularly during White Cap workout nights. They often beat the shit out of each other, bounding back for more. Nothing new here. What’s more, he figured it was probably all an act. Gunst was probably being paid for this interesting little muscle play. It was all working, of course, because none of the other musclemen had moved, as if they knew what was coming. And if there had been any serious, real danger, Karim Abdul and Moster, whose combined strength couldn’t even be gauged, would have stepped in to pull Gunst back and subdue him. More to the point, now he realized he recognized the schmoe from online. Something about how he had abused women for 30 years or more, and was now out of the studio, nationally shamed. Some big fat slob who ruined women’s careers if they didn’t fuck him. But he was still super rich, and he’d profited off of his exploitation and cruelty. Now set adrift in the Hollywood community and unable to work ever again, he was still worth several hundred million, and was not feeling any pain. Until tonight, of course. Now he was gonna get what he deserved. Still, Casey was more interested in his potential new friend, who seemed sober, quiet, respectful, and agog at the size of his muscles. That was just the way Casey figured he’d like them. Quiet and worshipful. As he walked over to the distant sofa, his cock twitched heavily, rolled in his pants, and began to point and grow. His new little fan seemed to be the exception in the room. He sat alone on his sofa across the room, maybe 20 feet away from the group of fat schmoes on the long couch. He was just staring at Casey, longingly, neither talking nor texting. Standing before him now not six feet away, Casey smiled in a friendly way. The pipsqueak smiled back, staring at Casey’s physique and handsome face and his ever-growing crotch bulge, blooming in his tight slacks. Tentative, nervous, a little frightened, shaking. “Hi,” said Casey, friendly. He got closer and extended a huge paw. “I’m Casey.” “I know. I’m….I’m Mike.” Mike reached up to shake hands, frightened and brave, his soft little hand covered by Casey’s enormous mitt. He stared at the pumping forearms as Casey gently shook his hand. He was very careful not to crush the little guy’s fingers. The fat slob was screaming now. “Hey, I’m just here to see a little muscle! You want money? I got a lot of money! I'll give it to you. Leave me alone!! Don't hurt me!!!” Gunst laughed nastily. “You just wanted to see a little muscle??? How about FUCKING HUGE MUSCLE??” He started slapping the man lightly across the face, back and forth, little humiliating stinging slaps that popped and smacked in echoes bouncing across the vast living room. “Ouch. Ouch! Leave me alone….!” “You belong to ME, asshole.” Gunst scooped the fat man (who must have weighed 300 pounds or more) up from the deep, sheltering confines of the plush sofa cushions. Effortlessly swinging the screaming man wide above his head, the man’s legs and feet flying in a circle around the work, Gunst swept the slob high above his head and held him there. Carrying him from the room, he yelled back to Waring and Lang, “You boys can join me later when you’ve finished with this group. But for now - he’s mine!” He turned his head up to the impotently squirming producer and lowered him down to meet his face. He spat his words. “Come to think of it, I’m gonna start you out nice and easy. You like glutes? How about some world-class musclebutt? I sure hope so. Casue I’m gonna sit on your face for the next 45 minutes. You’ll get to see my muscleass up close and personal….” And then they were gone, down the corridor. Silence. The schmoes staring, transfixed. “What was all that about? Who is that guy?” Hension whispered loudly to Obatu. Obatu shrugged. “Some movie producer.” “So why did Gunst go off on him like that?” “Maybe he didn’t like his movies.” “Private client,” said Alvarez. “It’s a put-up job. Extra money.” “This guy is paying Gunst to park his muscle ass on him for 45 minutes?” “No.” Alvarez smiled and whispered back. “The dude’s wife. Extra credit for public humiliation.” “Are the bedrooms through here?” Gunst asked, in the distance, his voice now conversational. “Noooooo…!” screamed the fat man. Down the hall they could hear a door opened. “Would in here be good for you?” Gunst asked calmly. “It’s good for me.” The schmoe’s screams continued for a moment, even after the door was closed. And then, they stopped. Very suddenly. Replaced by another sound, that could only be described as “mmmmpppphhhllllfffffffff…!!!... ..uuummmmm…” Presumably Gunst had undone his belt, lowered his slacks, squatted down his naked perfect butt, and was now getting comfortable on the man’s face. “Let me know if you have trouble breathing,” they heard him say, as if he was asking to pass the salt. Mike had watched in silence, his face surprisingly unexpressive. Unfrightened by Gunst’s outrage. That was interesting. He was clearly more nervous about Casey’s unanticipated friendliness. Casey turned back to the roomful of rich Hollywood schmoes, now numbering eight. For schmoes was what they were, and now, Casey had a pretty good gut level understanding of what a schmoe actually was. A schmoe was a creepy, ugly, fat, rich guy who was clueless, mean, selfish, liked musclemen, and was willing to pay his pleasure, and assumed money was all he needed. That was a schmoe. Casey’s lip curled in contempt. And far from frightened or intimated by the display of alpha male dominance Gunst had just performed, effortlessly carrying a kicking and screaming man over his head and out of the room, the schmoes were now quietly giggling, texting, snorting coke and toking up. They seemed to have enjoyed what they just witnessed. Nasty fuckers, thought Casey. He turned back to little Mike. “You’re not like those other guys.” “No.” “Why are you here, then?” “…..well….it’s my house.” Holy Shit. The Jackpot. That was fast. “Really? This is your place?” Mike nodded. “Yes.” Casey went to the point. “You like big muscles?” Casey asked, excited now. No sense in wasting time with pleasantries, although truth to be told, Casey probably had never heard the word before. “Yes, I do.” “Okay, then, watch this. All for you.” Casey moved fast into a front lat spread, rotating from side to side. “See these fucking pecs? They’re huge. You like this?” Casey’s shirt stretched and seemingly groaned from the strain. “….Golly….” Mike was breathing heavily. “Will ya look at that…?” His hand involuntarily moved to his crotch. Casey winked at him, nodding and smiling, reeling off his obvious talents. “Obliques, intercostals, abs like bricks, pecs like cannonballs, all hard and solid. And that’s just for starters. Here’s a most muscular crab shot.” His shirt fabric began to tear as his muscles exploded with sinew, mass and popping veins. “How about big guns?” he asked, flexing his brutal biceps. “26 inches,” he whispered proudly. “These guns measure 26 inches. You wanna touch ‘em?” Mike nodded, dumbly, reached out with tentative fingers, as Casey bent down to offer a closer view of his huge guns. “Touch ‘em! Go ahead and feel ‘em. Stroke ‘em. Ever felt anything so hard?” Mike’s fingers lightly caressed Casey’s 26 inch right biceps. “Wow,” he breathed, and stared up into Casey’s eyes. “I got great glutes, too,” he said conspiratorially, bringing his face now close to Mike. “It’s the ass of death. You’ll see. You can see them later. Really awesome.” Hey, he thought. This guy was kinda good-looking. Maybe he only weighed about 135, but he was cute. And probably really rich. Casey got even closer, flexed that powerful biceps right under Mike’s nose. “See that vein? It’s like a snake, watch it now…go ahead, lick it. Yeah. That’s right. Lick…” “Casey,” warned Moster. “Not yet.” Casey turned back, straightened up. “Yes, sir,” Casey said. “Join us,” said Moster. Casey looked at Moster, nodded, “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” And then returned to look down at Mike for a second. “Just a moment. I’ll be right back. He wants us to flex for your buddies. Don’t be scared. It’s just an act.” Mike was nodding feverishly. Casey could see his fly was bulging, and the bulge was not bad. Not bad at all. Maybe he was hung a little? He hoped so. “Well, you shouldn’t be scared,” Casey added. “The guys may beat up those other assholes a little, but I’ll protect you. I’m strong. You won’t get too hurt. And I’ll flex for you, and you can suck my dick awhile, and play with my glutes, and I’ll suck your dick, too, and maybe I’ll even fuck you, if you can take it. You can fuck me! Your butthole big enough? We all good?” Mike nodded, breathless, staring. “Great!” Casey was excited. This was going to be fun. “I like being worshipped! It’ll be dope. Hang on. This’ll only take a second. You wait.” The words came in a rush. “I…can wait….sure.” “Awesome. I’ll be right back.” Casey bounded back and rejoined the team. He readied himself, changed his face, scowled, and looked mean. Moster hid his smile. He was mightily amused. He should have foreseen that Casey would somehow ferret out the one dude who was signing the checks. The other men of the Twenty were, at the end of the day, too narcissistic to note personalities, character, differences, subtleties. For them, it was only about dominating, posing, flexing, showing off muscle. And the schmoes? Like any muscle lovers who lived closeted, rich, narrow, spoiled lives, they were only in it for themselves. But Casey definitely had possibilities. Moster made a mental note. He must remember not to mention this to Dr. Zaftig. Then he spoke, and his voice brooked no dissent. “Gentlemen, you will now silence your devices. Per the agreement in our mutual contract, there are to be no pictures taken, no recorded video, no texting, no emails, Instagram, Facebook or tweets.” There was a pause. Mike pulled his phone from his pocket and switched it off, looked up at Casey, and smiled. The schmoes stared up at Moster, not moving. “I’m waiting.” Still nothing. “Boys?....” said Moster quietly. Together with Casey, the nine muscle giants took a step towards the big sofa, alert, ready hands at their sides. There was a tense pause. “I didn’t sign any agreement…” one of the schmoes started to protest.
  11. Pretty much a mixed bag this week! https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c25f99c42e74 (with Sascha Zalman) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c24c83c44257 (with Sascha Zalman) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c2712500af33 https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c24c83bae47c (Cassinelli) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c24a50841464 (Cassinelli - with Boris Makov) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5a1bc2051a7b5 https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c268739cecbc (with Joey Jordan) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5b0a5392b3b6f (from The Best Flex) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph567c28b3dcbc1 (with the Blake Brothers) https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c15e12215e21 (with Justin Morinetti - Smoking Hunks)
  12. Hope you enjoy! Gauge Worship: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c2643bf0ad79 Joey Jordan & Gauge: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c262cb0690a6 Joey Jordan & Mike Rios: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c2613890b268 Nick Harmon & Tony Maxim: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c25f99c26838 Frank DeFeo & Antonio Angelo: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c24a508ebd60 Arkady & Uberto Part 2: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c24c83b8318d Eric Evans Worship: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c253e5241410 Hairy Muscle Worship: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5bb417780aeca Flex Masters: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c24a508b6ca5 Tom Lord: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c26138974a22
  13. Just unadulterated muscle lust: Tomas Mach/Tim Mountain: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c24a508edac2 Cocky Boy: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c2712500af33 Muscle Diamond: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c30e35e8667b Alpha Teases Worshipper: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5b80281b8c11b Personal Session: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5c26477e09b1b Zitronenquark: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph59cd0effdfea1 Submission with Dean Coulter: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph55d5462b9b323 Antonio: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5670ad9e168db Rick Hammersmith: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph58930ab4ac7fa Joey Jordan and March Brandon: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph57a704599af4f
  14. The guys spend their first night together, and it's unforgettable for both. Hope you enjoy. It's a long chapter and it took quite a long time to write, considering I have nerve damage in my left hand, and can't type for shit any more. So any typos that slipped by me, I apologise in advance. Link to Previous Chapters: HERE Chapter 6: First Night When Aaron phoned his Ma to say he wouldn’t be home that night, there was a little concern in her voice. How could this be happening after just one day of knowing his new employer and his massive son? Ma had insisted he take precautions, just to be on the safe side. But Aaron assured her that the Fogles were very nice people, and that they had nothing but the highest regard for Aaron. That seemed to satisfy her, and so she wished him well. After dinner, Drew made himself scarce for the night. He was good like that. George had polished off what was left of the takeout and then sweetly led his new boyfriend to his bedroom. The room was spacious enough; typically the room of a young man obsessed with bodybuilding. “Wow it’s like a gym in here,” exclaimed Aaron, in reaction to seeing all the weight sets and workout equipment. “They’re mostly for decoration, sweetie. I’ve outgrown them. I do all my bodybuilding training in the Junkyard. I’ll take you there tomorrow, to see a real workout,” said the gigantic muscle-god. Then… George scooped Aaron up in his mighty arms and pulled him close. With such a huge chest in the way, George had to lift Aaron higher in order to plant a kiss on his cute lips. The kiss ran for almost a minute as the two men exchanged oral juices and got a right taste for one another. Aaron instantly grew hard. Heck, from now on he’d only have to glimpse George out of the corner of his eye in order to get irresistibly aroused. The god’s muscle scent was everywhere, and once a regular mortal got wind of it, it would be impossible not to get a throb-fuck of an erection. “You know what I love more than bodybuilding?” George spoke softly as he nuzzled Aaron’s cute face like a little kid might his puppy. Aaron didn’t mind in the slightest. It was amazing that such a huge and powerful man could show such tenderness. “You actually love something more than bodybuilding?” Aaron raised an inquisitive eyebrow and felt a bit dreamy as blood that should have been going to his brain was diverted to his monster cock. “Heh heh, not really. I love bodybuilding beyond reason, little Aaron. But I love muscle worship just as much. I don’t have many friends. A bodybuilder’s life can be a lonely one. It’s a vocation, right? But now I have you to worship me unconditionally, yes?” With a playfully smug smile — which caused delicious dimples to appear on each of his cheeks — George brought up his arms into a double biceps pose and cracked out a blinding eruption of size, hardness, definition and utter veiny goodness. His muscle peaks blasted upwards and outwards, massive boulders forming of each rock-hard globe of pulsing power. And as he concentrated and applied further effort, each bicep split into two; as though another bicep formed over the former, equally hard, huge and bursting with veins inside of which his altered blood coursed and fed every muscle fibre with unabashed gluttony. A gluttony of growth and nothing but. “Fuck, you gotta worship these guns. Hell, they’re up over my fists now when I flex. Wow!” George’s awe at his own muscle-growth was addictive. “Oh George, your arms,” gasped Aaron, almost plaintively. It was as though all this was too soon and too much for Aaron to absorb so quickly. But he would persevere. He had a massively bodybuilt boyfriend, who was nowhere done with bodybuilding his incredible muscle-bod anytime soon. Mirrors throughout George’s bedroom allowed him to view himself at pretty much every angle, and so he used these to full advantage. “Wow, I think I can crank up their bigness even further, sweetie,” he said, feeling full and well that he could easily flex himself huger. “You don’t mind if I growl a little, do you?” “Er no… but what will that do?” said Aaron, half-speaking/half-groaning because he was just so horny. “I guess it helps me become more focused and determined to grow when I’m flexing for guys. Shit, before I flex huger, little Aaron, I think I’ll need to get out of these shorts before they explode. I’m growing my junk, too. These shorts won’t survive much longer. I’ll need a trigger to grow, too. Your exposed button-fly EBF jeans… dance a little in them. Put your thumbs into the ripped waistband and sorta tug it out a little.” Aaron did as he was told, although it didn’t at all feel like he was being bossed around by the giant before him, who must have been pushing 7’ in height. He blushed a little as he tried the sexiest dance he could, although his movements were stilted and not fluid. Aaron didn’t seem to mind. “Aw cool, little Aaron. Now twist your hips a little so that the silver buttons down the front of your jeans catch the light.” George grew harder and harder, so that his button-fly shorts tented out to thread-popping proportions. Cotton began to give way and come apart in places. He lowered his huge biceps, which began to cramp a little under their own sheer weight and mass. And as Aaron performed his ‘sexy’ dance further, George adopted a ‘relaxed’ muscle pose, his hands and elbows bowed outward from his sides for fear of ‘strangling’ his lats to death if the mighty muscle-wings didn’t have space to ‘breathe’. In this pose he looked truly beautiful; a classic bodybuilding pose exaggerated to the point of anatomical science-fiction. “Aw you’re so cute and sexy, little Aaron. I’m so turned on right now. Think I’ll bounce my monster-sized pectorals and work some juice into them. Show me your come-gutters by lowering your ruined waistband, and expose a little bush, too.” “Happy to oblige,” Aaron half-gasped. His own jeans tented out at the front as his dick hardened to maximum. He wouldn’t be wearing them for much longer. Being of very low body fat and muscle definition, Aaron’s anatomy was clearly defined in the light of a room inhabited by a huge muscle-god. George’s body blocked and refracted so much light as he moved and posed, that depending on where he stood (or stomped) in the room, light could be sent scattering in all directions. It was cool. It gave the experience of being with a man like George Fogle a somewhat surreal feel to it. “Aw… you’re all that I want in a boyfriend, little Aaron. Look at you. You got me so hard. Undo your fly so I can hear the ‘duhd-duhd-duhd” of the buttons getting pulled through the buttonholes. I love that. Then do up your fly again, only adjust your cock to make it look like it’s forcing the flies apart of its own accord.” If George’s instructions were less than succinct, then it served only to fortify his fetish for exposed button jeans as an essential muscle-growth trigger. Aaron was so turned on. Heck, if George had asked him to run across a bed of hot coals, he’d have done so, if it meant the huge bodybuilder becoming even bigger. “I love this… little Aaron; I love what you being here does for my body. You’re making me bodybuild beyond reason. So much bodybuilding. Look at me… let’s have some fun with all this crazy muscle-growth!” As he spoke, his denim shorts began to really come apart now. Neither of them cared; they welcomed it wholly. A most-muscular pose — fuelled by more playful growling — caused an insane amount of further muscle-growth to almost burst out of his skin. His body generated more and more networks of veins in order to better feed all this new flesh with the nutrients to grow. They stood out across his muscles, darkly fat and greedily gorged. Stretch marks formed crazy earthquake patterns all over, but they quickly disappeared; he was far too powerful and beautiful to be scarred permanently in such a fashion. “I have an idea to grow further, my darling, gorgeous Aaron,” said George, bouncing his considerable pec-meats and marveling at how much heavier they’d become in such a short time-span. Aaron couldn't wait to see this happen. George bounded across his room to a closet. The floor creaked under his weight; his dad would have to get some sort of columns built downstairs to stop the floor from breaking. “Hey Dad,” he hollered confidently and happily. “You need to reinforce the floor. I’m absolutely HUGE!!!” There was no answer from Drew, although usually at this time, if he wasn’t entertaining a male visitor, he’d be getting off to his own muscles and/or watching porn through headphones. Still, Aaron made a curious face when George pulled a series of huge, leather belts from his closet. They were thicker than bodybuilder weight belts, but a lot longer. “Check this out, little hunky Aaron. My dad got these at a car boot sale from a funfair that closed down.”George, almost out of breath from the size his muscles had become so quickly, unraveled the belts and Aaron had never seen belts so long before. George explained: “They belonged to the world’s fattest man (at the time). They get increasingly longer, ‘cos this guy grew to be thousands of pounds from just gorging his face all day. Although, he’s since had surgery and lost over a thousand pounds, and is married with a load of kids, so it worked out well for him. Still… these belts; the first one is 136 inches around. That was when he was still a Slim Jim, but he got way fatter. The second one is 154 inches, and the third is 188 inches. See the measurements clearly printed on each one?” George held out the belts for Aaron to examine. “The biggest conventional bodybuilders rarely get their chests past 65 inches or thereabouts,” Aaron offered. And George couldn’t agree more. Aaron could see where this was going. His dick was slick with precum. In fact, both men were leaking copious amounts all over the floor. The aroma was beyond stimulating. “Let’s try the smallest belt, which was loose on me two days ago when I tried it, flexing and puffing up my upper body to its maximum girth,” said George, and then added: “You’ll have to help me get it on. All I can see when I look down now are massively striated upper muscle-tits. And even when I look down, the effort of doing so causes deeper, sexier and way manlier striations and raw definition to explode out of my gigantic chest. Whew, could the effort of growing bigger actually bring my bodybuilding to a sudden halt, little Aaron?” “Let’s hope not,”answered Aaron as he carely wrapped the belt around George’s titanic torso. It was not easy to do. Aaron’s face was just about level with George’s pecs, now. Oh and they had a glorious, musky smell of sweat to them. The deep, thick bushes beneath his armpits hung with that smell. It was incredible to experience. Grunting with effort and strong horny feelings, Aaron eventually fastened the buckle of the first belt of an ex-fat freak of nature. He just about got the prong through the last hole (or the first hole, depending on how you look at it). “Whew… I barely managed that. I’m such a weakling,” said Aaron, somewhat embarrassed. “I don’t care. I love you just as you are, little man. Right, let’s get this in motion. Gotta time it just right. My dick’s gonna erupt with muscle-come once I do this. Remember, this belt was loose on me two days ago.” George applied a little strain. The belt leather began to squeak and groan in defiance. George began to inflate his upper body with greater zeal. The hole through which the belt prong was inserted began to stretch as the hard metal dug in. “Fuck, your chest is 136 inches. That's more than double the chest size of an Olympian super-heavyweight bodybuilder, George,” Aaron gasped. “Hmm I know. But you’d think that — considering I’m over 1000 lbs, now, that the numbers would be higher — but I can weigh-in at the Junkyard tomorrow and know for sure,” George resolved. He frowned when something occurred to him. Aaron tried to resist rubbing his own dick for fear he’d come too soon. But somehow he resisted. “Why the frowny face all of a sudden?” George relaxed his chest again, so that the leather stopped whining and straining. “I’m puffing up my chest in order to burst out of this belt, right?” Aaron nodded emphatically. “But that just means that I’m pulling air into my lungs and expanding my rib cage in order to destroy this belt. But think about it…” George paused, to allow his muscle-cock to take respite. Aaron actually liked where this was going. He didn’t want to come yet, but rather see more drama added to this glorious spectacle of masculinity at its most engorged and vain. George continued somewhat introspectively… “I want to destroy this belt because my pectorals are getting bigger through sheer force of will and unbridled flexing power. Not by a rib cage expanding ‘cos my lungs are filling up. I need to dial this back, and concentrate on the pec-bellies themselves increasing in mass and volume. Wish this was an exact science, but whatcha gonna do, right?” George widened his stance a little, which was really necessary, because his thighs were fuckin enormous now. Walking with any modicum of finesse was now a thing of the past. But a huge bodybuilder ‘muscle-waddle’ was way sexier than style and grace. Anyway, back to the biggest pecs ever… The massive muscle-god stuck his elbows out a little further, giving his lats just enough room to breathe a little, without actually increasing the girth of his upper body. The death of this belt had to be based on the power of a pair of giant pecs flexing and bursting with unparalleled power and strength. And so George focused all of his energy there, with, perhaps, a little tightening of his cobbled abs to help him focus better. He then opted for a stomach vacuum which created an insanely tapered waspishness to his waist that only made his upper body seem to explode with even more size and beauty. The belt strained and tightened further. The upper and lower pecs were separated so beautifully by the dying strip of leather and metal. He didn’t even have to growl. Had he done so, he’d probably have grown bigger than the Hulk; fuck it, make that a trio of Incredible Hulks combined. The pecs completely ATE the belt. It was as though the pec-meat itself grew over the belt, like how trees can sometimes absorb obstructions into their structures. It was like that. Oh how they bulged and bulged, pulsing with size and ferocious power. “OMIGOD!!!!” Aaron couldn’t believe his eyes. Just when it seemed like the pec-bellies would completely ‘digest’ the belt. The buckle shattered, causing metal and leather to fly. The sound of the buckle breaking was like a bullet going off. Across the loft in his room, Drew paused somberly from his porn and self-adoration and thought that sounded like one of George’s leather belts exploding. He was showing off for his new boyfriend. Showing off… and growing. He smiled contentedly before going back to what he was doing. “Damn it, didn’t come there, although these shorts are soaked with precum. Better take them off,” George said, with a little disappointment. “It’s because there are two more belts to get through, Giant George,” said Aaron, referring to his fella as a giant for the first time. “Yeah, you’re right. There won’t be a come-crescendo until I destroy that third belt. Still have the second one to get through first, though,” said George. Until Aaron did the unexpected. Firstly he got completely naked, which absolutely destroyed the fuck out of George’s shorts. A massive, semi-erect cock — bigger than anything ever seen before — bounced and flopped like a great divining rod before the huge bodybuilder. He still couldn’t see it over his enormous pecs, unless he looked at his awesome form in a mirror. Secondly Aaron took the middle belt and tossed it out a window. But George wasn’t mad; he knew exactly Aaron’s reason for doing this. “Let’s skip right to the third belt then. But wait… that means through flexing power alone, I’m gonna pack on over 50 more inches to my already gigantic chest. That’s a huge amount of growth, even for me. And without visiting the Junkyard either. Not that I’m doubting myself, or nothing, but can I actually do it?” George frowned again, this time deep in thought. “You didn’t know me before this morning, Giant George. I’m your muscle muse. Maybe we can create a new trigger for you; one that will force your most mind-blowing growth ever,” Aaron suggested. But what could that trigger be? Aaron’s own chest was no more than 36 inches or thereabouts; pretty normal for a skinny guy of his size and weight. This meant that George would be growing his upper body by more than Aaron’s entire measurement around. But it was their first night together, and it had to be an unforgettable night between two guys who’d just found each other. Muscle Muse indeed. “Just a thought, Giant George, but what if you can pack major size and volume to not only your muscle-tits, but your nipples, too? That would easily contribute a few extra inches.” George thought about it. He turned to stare at himself in the mirror. The swell of his pecs meant that his nipples pointed ever-downward, unless, of course, he did a lat-spread or brought his arms behind his head in order to crunch his abs massively and explode his quads into diamond hard sex-trunks. Also, the dark crescent moon shadows cast by the huge swell of his lower pecs made his nipples appear almost invisible. He really didn’t want his pecs to outgrow their sexy ‘on-switches’. “Put the biggest belt around me… NOW!!!!” George was suddenly hornier than ever, as he determined to turn a 188-inch belt into ten or so pounds of leather confetti. Groaning with arousal, Aaron positioned the belt and strapped it firmly around the widest part of his chest. He had to bring his arms out further, and also flex his pecs upward to that the nipples pointed outward. This coincided with the belt forming tautly over the nipples, leaving barely an inch of give. “Wow, I think it’s working. Your nipples look like they’re starting to get larger,” Aaron gasped. But it wasn’t enough. There needed to be a further trigger in play. George suggested Aaron play with his own nipples, fully naked, but mindful not to slip on any precum pools on the floor. Sure enough, the beautiful reddish-brown areolas began to grow; reminding Aaron of when you drop water onto blotting paper and the liquid grows as it diffuses through it. But this wasn’t just the extent of the magic. The nipples themselves increased and bulged… and the pecs also began to expand. This is what they both wanted. The belt became tighter and Aaron hurried to loosen the buckle and put the prong into the next hole; then skipping two holes at once; then three. Finally — as George grew bigger and bigger, Aaron barely got the last hole fastened up, before George’s growth subsided. The belt held. But he was HUGE!!! “Sweet Jeebus,” Aaron gasped. Not even the Hulk from the first movie (the one with the biggest Hulk) had muscles anywhere near as big and powerful as George’s muscles now. “So close, and yet… it didn’t work, little Aaron,” George was almost tearful as he spoke. “Are you kidding? Look at the size of you. And your dad’s missing this. Look at the bodybuilder you’ve become. I just want to touch you and grope every inch of your muscles, and drown in throatfuls of your delicious come.” Now it was Aaron’s turn to get tearful. George was monstrously huge now. It was mind-boggling. “But it’s still not enough, little Aaron. It’s not enough. Tweak your nipples further. Please, Aaron… play with your tasty nips some more for me. I know I can do this. I can destroy the belt with your help. You are so gorgeous and sexy. My delicious, naked, little man, with a bulging cock way bigger than a guy of your little stature has any business sporting. But you sport it so well. And I actually wish your dick was so big that you can fuck me so hard, even though I’m a gigantic bodybuilding muscle-hunk.” On the cusp of them both coming, Aaron played with his nipples, causing the beautiful buds to harden and stick out further from his slender chest. He was laved in sweat — as they both were — so his flesh glinted wonderfully in the evening light. “You like me playing with my nipples, Giant George? You like me teasing my little bitch-nips?” Now it was Aaron’s turn to playfully growl. “Oh fuck yeah. Suck in your belly, little Aaron, and turn sideways so your erect bull-dick sticks out further. Pull those nips off yourself. Aw fuck!” Aaron was so obedient. He would have done anything for the bodybuilder. His boyfriend, the big, bulging bodybuilder of so much bodybuilt, bulge-er-ific beauty. And as Aaron could no longer contain his salty load, his body bucked convulsively, and a long, creamy rope burst out of his slit and reached about ten feet across the room, where it came to rest on an electric lamp and instantly began to sizzle. And that was the trigger. George threw his head back and roared as his body generated new strength, size and power… and especially new nipples; bigger ones — with soup-bowl-sized areolas and buds as big as small fists. The belt couldn’t take it, and shot away from him with enough force to break it into a dozen pieces. 188 inches? Hah, try over 200. In one evening George Fogle had grown by hundreds of pounds. He was gigantic. And his strength had to be tested. As he, too, shot a massive load (only his creme could be gauged in liters at a time), he reached for the nearest heavy thing he could find, in this case a 300 lb dumbbell. Cast from solid iron, few mortals could lift it without resulting in injury. But as more and more come gobbed from his thick dick-hole, George roared like a maniac and twisted the dumbell with such force that it snapped in two. Then he dropped the weight on his bed, which almost broke it, before erupting into the biggest lat-spread ever. His body bulged and groaned with insane size and definition. More veins — ever-thickening — blasted and rumbled across him. His arms shot up way higher than his fists — which looked tiny compared to the biceps at their most flexed ever — and his triceps and forearms almost split apart from so much pressure and definition forced out of every bulbous muscle belly. His abs got harder and more defined and his intercostals became a sea of fish-scale bumps on either side of a ridiculously tapered waist. The more he flexed, the bigger and more defined he became. His thighs, glutes, and calves all contributed to the carnival of growth that stood before Aaron, whose balls tingled and throbbed with further desire to make come and shoot off. George orgasmed further; they both did. It was both energising and exhausting at the same time. Gasping, Aaron dropped to his knees and opened his mouth as wide as he could, but George’s dick was now way too big to get his lips around. Instead he opted to lick it and kiss it and trace unending trails along every bursting vein across the arm-thick shaft. From down on his knees, Aaron looked upwards and there was little in his field of vision beyond a ten-pack of rigid boulder abs and a pec-shelf so thick and huge that light couldn’t escape from between the cleavage. The nipples stood out proudly, like signposts enticing the smaller guy to further explore the continent of near-impossible muscle-growth that dominated before him — nay, TOWERED above him. Aaron felt tiny — a mere gnat compared to George — and yet all he could think about was his beautiful boyfriend growing even bigger. Then… tears, flowing from above, cascading not from George’s beautiful eyes, but rather from the pecs themselves, began to rain down on Aaron. How could this be? Were his pecs… crying? No not his pecs, but rather his newly improved and massively grown nipples… but this wasn’t sweat. The nipples were being glandular in their issue, of a sweet nectar that Aaron couldn’t wait to get past his lips. “Oh George… it’s like dewdrops raining out of your nips,” Aaron gasped, almost wishing he could gorge on this new and wonderful nectar. “How… why? Who cares. Just drink, my love. Take in my sweet dew,” implored George. Aaron drank for what seemed like a silent eternity. Intermittent caresses of George’s nips brought Aaron’s lips to the source of the dew. And it nourished him. He wanted to drink George to the last drop. It was ecstasy. Aaron couldn’t help himself. He felt a tingling come from his junk, which cursorily diverted his attention away from George’s dewdrops. And that was when it happened… “George look… my dick… and my balls. They’re… as big as yours. Fuck. Your dew is magical,” Aaron gasped. George pulled away to get a better look at his slender boyfriend. And lo and behold, Aaron now sported an absolutely gigantic dick. It was easily twenty inches long and at last half that wide. His balls had swelled to the size of small melons. They would contain an insane amount of juice. Such an enormous endowment on one so slender, should have looked completely absurd. But it didn’t. Although no muscle grew on Aaron, this miracle was anything but minor. George could only do one thing at this point. He half-fell/half-lowered himself onto his big reinforced bed, burying his face into pillows and exposing and jutting upwards the massive globes of his muscle-ass. He had become subservient, because now the men could fuck comfortably, without George ever hurting Aaron with his over-sized manhood. Now Aaron could fuck his boyfriend with a super-dick, and pump his hole with a tonne of salty goodness. “Oh fucking destroy my ass, little Aaron. Unngh, not so little where it… gasp… counts now,” George pleaded. Endowed with a new sense of power, Aaron pumped his huge dick into the most beautifully sculpted ass ever. George, although insanely strong, found that he could push back into Aaron without causing him harm, and likewise Aaron could do the same. This union could not have been anticipated. But something came out of George’s amazing physiology, which not unlike Brett Hillard’s tit-milk, had magical properties. Okay, it didn’t make others into bodybuilders, but it meant that sex between George and Aaron could now be something beyond amazing. Aaron couldn’t believe where this extra energy was coming from, but the bed rocked and groaned from the effort of a massive bodybuilder getting ridden by his skinny boyfriend. George fanned out his back muscles and lats into a gigantic ‘barn door’ delta spread, each muscle erupting into sharp relief. Aaron had plenty of hand-holds to choose from. He was fucking the most muscular man on Earth, and he was only going to get bigger and bigger and bigger, far beyond what any sane man can contemplate. “I want every drop of you inside me, little Aaron,” George gasped, and found he had to flex his glutes harder and harder in order to accommodate the onslaught of such a huge male member penetrating him with all twenty inches of its superhuman power. Aaron was determined to please his new boyfriend, and with melon-balls that made audible ‘slapping’ sounds as they hit off the back of George’s rock-hard thighs, Aaron released liters of seed into him. “Grow for me Giant George. Take my jizz and use it as muscle-fuel,” Aaron gasped. They fucked long and hard, well into the wee small hours of the next day, despite it was a work night. But Drew wouldn’t mind. His son was a bodybuilding prodigy, and a godly one at that. And now he had a boyfriend that was just perfect for him. Even when Aaron thought he had filled George to the last drop — to ass-breaking levels — he found himself going again. This time George kindly flipped over so that Aaron could fuck the daylight out of his pecs. He would buck back and forth into the cleavage, lubed by sweat and precum, only to erupt another torrent of jizz all over George, who soon became covered in it. He drank all he could, but even a gigantic hyper-muscled bodybuilder can tire, and Aaron wasn’t far behind. The little guy with the giant package fell into the most powerful arms in the world, and it turned out that the effect of the dew was temporary. His endowments soon shrank back to their ‘still huge but not insanely huge’ size, which meant that at least Aaron would be able to get his jeans on in the morning. “I love you, little Aaron,” said George sofly. To which Aaron replied: “I love you, Giant George” And the two lovers fell into a blissful sleep. MORE SOON... Chapter 7: HERE
  15. This spot will contain either worship videos or self love starting next week. (I am merging two days into one.) Tom Lord: https://xhamster.com/videos/daddy-s-muscle-worship-boy-4378154 Brazilian Repairman: https://xhamster.com/videos/muscle-worship-632378 Room Service Part 1: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph578dcec9cfe95 Submission with Tom Katt: https://xhamster.com/videos/muscle-worship-shave-down-oil-up-2948545 Zeb Atlas/Mark Dalton: https://xhamster.com/videos/zeb-atlas-mark-dalton-bromance-muscle-worship-jo-cum-9649383 Three Worshippers: https://xhamster.com/videos/muscle-worship-9911983 Mutual Muscle Worship: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph56c47d8580b36 Alex: https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=1677005162 Rogan Richards: http://mymusclevideo.com/73309/real-muscle-worship-with-rogan-richards/ Sascha Zalman: https://www.gayforit.eu/video/363117/Muscle-Worship-
  16. “Ehh…..it feels really weird, is that supposed to happen?” Thomas looks at the medical assistant as they pull the syringe out of the opening to the needle that is in his left arm. He looks like he is going to be sick as he starts sweating a bit. Arliss turns back around in his chair and tells Cliff that he better get back in there because he can tell that Thom is going to have a bad reaction to the serum. The mentor jumps from his seat and rushes back into the medical area to stay with his young client. Arliss starts talking to Steve again. “I sent Cliff back in there because sometimes the serums can make the guys sick. It almost always happens to the smaller ones. Thomas’s body is not able to handle the rapid muscle tearing so he will probably vomit a few times before he gets used to the whole process. Don’t worry he will be okay, he just needs a little bit of reassurance from Cliff.” Steve seems okay with the whole scenario as Arliss stands up and turns to look at the guys in the back. “Guys, I need all of you to leave the area and go watch this in the viewing room. I know some of you will be critical of him and I don’t want him to get overworked any more than he already has. His body is going to obviously take quite a beating so be courteous.” There are several groans as the men stand up and shuffle out and into the viewing area located just a few feet away. Arliss sits back down with Steve as they watch Cliff retrieves a bucket from one of the medical assistants to put it in front of Thomas’s face and torso. It is obvious now that the young man is going to lose whatever he ate earlier that morning. He looks at his mentor and is very scared. “I feel like I am going to die Cliff. Are you sure this is safe?” “You will be sick for a few minutes Thomas. This is normal. Your body has not experienced something this extreme before. You will get through this and after the first dosage kicks in, you will be feeling a lot different.” One of the medical assistants attaches the IV bag back to Thomas’s right arm again to make sure he is hydrated after he vomits. After a few minutes, he throws up twice and is feeling a bit weak. Cliff rubs his back and can tell that the young man’s body is getting ready to change. Leathery sounds are heard coming from Thom’s body as he tries to relax for a few seconds. Cliff runs his hands along his client’s sensitive muscle fibers down his back as they slowly swell beneath his skin. His breathing is a bit compromised but he is starting to feel a bit better. “You’re right Cliff. I am feeling better although I can’t seem to feel my arms and legs anymore.” The hunky personal coach notices that Thomas’s arms are twitching and are involuntarily flexing as well. He seems to be unaware of the loud popping that is radiating from his biceps and triceps as they lose the flat look that they used to have before the serum was introduced. The veins and muscles in his forearms are starting to bulge just ever so slightly as the growth moves down to his quads and calves as well. Cliff’s eyes immediate lock on to Thom’s crotch as he watches his client’s cock stretch down his left leg. The shy young man can certainly feel what is happening in that area because he is gripping the arm rests tightly. It is a surprisingly large bulge as it stops halfway down his fairly-developed calf, which has veins and a nice dusting a hair that he previously didn’t have before. It leaves a small wet spot at the end of his cockhead as Cliff takes one of his hands and places it just underneath it. Thomas’s face is looking a bit firmer as two well-pronounced dimples form in his cheeks. His glasses are now slightly stretched as his head expands a couple of inches. His flat chest has miraculously formed two very firm pectoral muscles that seems like they came out of nowhere to fill in a bit of the gap that was in the sides of his tank top. His abs do the same from the inside his body everyone can now see the indentations of an eight-pack in his midsection from underneath the top. Thomas is looking at Cliff and looks as if he is a bit drunk from the formula’s dosage. His mentor smiles back at him, while rubbing his back with one hand and caressing the cockhead in his pants with the other. “It appears to be working Thomas. You look like you have been working out quite a bit now. That was just the first dosage as well because this was supposed to jumpstart your muscles.” The medical assistant that injected the first dosage into him is now checking both of the needles to see if they need to be moved around or not because it appears as if his upper body is absorbing the solution more than his calves and quads are. His 15” biceps keep tensing which is creating a slight issue. Cliff is aware that Thomas is starting to enjoy what is happening to him because he keeps leaning his head over to the sides to rub his stubbly face on his bigger round shoulders. At the moment, Thomas has probably grown to around a very athletic 165-175 pound range and that is only after the first dose. After a couple of adjustments to the needles in his arms, the serum bag is removed and the medical assistant is ready to put the second serum in. Before they do though, the man from earlier gets on to speak through the intercom system. “Congratulations Mr. Mangold on getting through the hardest part of your transformation. Your body is now prepared for the more appropriate doses it will be exposed to. The body you have now is normally where our clients begin in their metamorphosis. We anticipate that you will probably gain a fair amount of muscle in the next cycle so you will probably be feeling a considerable amount of pressure coming from every square inch of your frame. Mr. Byutov, I will need you to set up the bigger chair that is found in our primary medical area and then have the young man get up from the one he is in. Mr. Mangold, your mentor will help you over to the big boy seat because you are going to need it. Our medical personnel will follow you over there so don’t worry about the needles leaving your arms.” The previously shy Canadian man is now bouncing his cock in his pants as it drips precum down his leg and onto the floor. “I am now craving it Cliff. I didn’t feel this way just a couple of minutes ago, but now it is all I think about.” “Try to keep your emotions in check Thomas. We have had some issues in the past with a few guys who ended up completely losing their minds over this. They eventually calmed down after the transformations were complete, but it was very scary at first. I will need to leave for a few minutes so try to behave yourself.” He points over Thomas’s right shoulder to show him where it is and leaves. As Cliff does, Arliss gets up from his seat and tells Steve to follow the other men into the back area so he can watch on the monitors. They don’t want there to be any major distractions since it appears that this is going to be a more complicated procedure. He walks into the medical area and watches as the medical personnel undo his grips and hold on to the tubes attached to his syringes as he is helped up by the huge supervisor. Arliss wraps his right arm around the young stud’s waist and lifts him up slowly to get him out of the chair. The formerly gawky nerd is now looking a bit better with the extra bulk. There are veins pulsing in his head against his stretched glasses. The older man is now trying to move him over to the chair fairly quickly to keep the entire process moving along. He helps him up into the chair where Cliff is setting the straps up to be wrapped around the horny muscle nerd’s arms and legs so he is tightly secured without any kind of movement. The medical personnel that are with him are now setting his IV syringes in place. The stronger serum is going to be administered strictly to his right arm this time. He will be fed an IV solution into his left arm because his body is going to need considerably more nutrients when the process is completed. Arliss is now standing in front of the fit man and is watching him closely. His cock is peeking out the bottom of his shorts now. Thomas sighs as he relaxes his body in the chair and leans back. The sweat is pouring profusely from all of his orifices now. He looks at Arliss and seems to be in a really good mood now. Cliff is wrapping the straps around Thomas’s arms and legs and making sure they are as tight as possible. The serum hasn’t even been administered to him yet and yet the veins in his body are already looking as if they are going to blow up. Now Cliff is standing with Arliss in front of the stressed muscle nerd. “Look at me Thomas. Stay relaxed and let the serum consume you. Your body is craving it so much that I am afraid you might stop breathing or your heart will stop.” Cliff looks at Arliss for assistance. “I think he will be fine actually. This is probably going to be an incredible success when it is all said and done. I wonder if we should remove his glasses or not? *smirks at Cliff* Hmm, maybe not. I may actually cum in my pants watching him destroy them.” Both men nod their heads at the medical doctors as they attach the serum to his right arm. It starts to flow into his body after a few seconds. He is gripping the chair tightly, feeling it reach his mind as his breathing gets noticeably heavier. His cock is spilling even more precum now. Thomas is moaning as the serum starts to expand his cock. The huge vein that is visible from beneath his shorts is swelling to the point that it is slowly starting to rip the fabric. Cliff and Arliss look on in amazement. Their cocks are bouncing wildly in their pants now. Thomas was already quite endowed to begin with, but the fact that it has expanded even further especially when it is powerful enough to tear through fabric is shocking the men that have already went through the same process. Cliff decides to speak to Thomas to see if he is coherent enough to talk. “Uhh…..How are you doing Thomas? *tries not to look at his huge 12” shaft* I think you are enjoying yourself immensely, am I right?” Thomas laughs as his voice goes down about two more octaves. He notices the difference immediately as his eyes dilate and he feels his balls destroying his underwear. They are now stretching the front of his shorts to its limits. He is close to shooting a load already since he has never felt such sheer ecstasy in his entire life. “Mmm god Cliff, I thought I would hate this, but I was stupid for ever thinking otherwise. Mmm yes……YES…..I can feel my muscles begging for it. AHHH…..can’t…..talk…..anymore…..I must feel EVERY…..SINGLE…..FIBER…..GROWING……” The young Canadian begins grunting as his legs and torso are now reacting to the serum. His shorts are struggling to stay intact as his quads and glutes begin to separate the seams. Arliss is staring at Thomas’s growing toes as the arches of his feet elongate and thicken. His calves are squeaking as they widen and part to form hardened upside-down hearts. The fur on his legs is also thickening to create a cover for his swelling lower half. Once his shorts surrender to the power that is emerging from within them, his cock and balls flop a few times. He shoots a few ropes of cum into the air and it hits Cliff in the face. The shocked man rubs his fingers on his face and slowly licks them. The taste is so good, that he feels it surge through his body. His cock reacts as it spills a load of its own down his legs. At the same time, Thomas can feel his arms reacting to the serum as he feels an incredible amount of pressure welling up from inside both forearms. He can’t take his eyes off of them as the muscles from within stretch and swell, expanding beneath the straps and fighting to break free. The young Canadian is smiling as his eyes scan past his arms midpoint and as he watches his biceps and triceps swelling and bulging bigger than he ever imagined possible on his formerly small frame. The glasses on his face are unable to take anymore as the rims snap off his face and fall into his lap. The veins swell and bulge even more than before as the hair on top of his head falls off. He is growing a thick beard on his chin and it feels amazing to him. He doesn’t know where to look next as he looks down to watch his pecs and abs transform beneath his white tee. The sensations coming from all over his body is making him produce more testosterone which naturally results in more cum being spilled as he launches a few more jets in front of him. Both Cliff and Arliss are beyond boned as they both try to catch his spunk on their faces, laughing in the process. Since it is full of extra charged hormones, they are feeling it hit their own crotches, prompting more spillage. They look at each other and decide to strip down to just their thongs, which is not distracting Thomas at all. Arliss is grunting feeling a huge load building up in his ballsac while Cliff caresses his thickly-muscled hairy body with his hands and is dripping onto the floor through his thong. End of Part 5
  17. Long time lurker - finally got my fingers down to write a story, and hopefully many more to come. Posted in WarpMyMind (leejhaw) and MuscleGrowth.org (shawnkid). -Chapter 1- Meet Charles "Sup," my roommate nonchalantly greeted me as he walked out his room. My eyes almost fell out of its socket. The reason is apparent - my body-conscious roommate is walking around half naked. Beneath his grey sweatpants, his VPL proves that he's freeballing too. That could only mean one thing - it worked. What I did actually work! It's true - some of us are more susceptive to hypnosis. And it comes in many forms, you have the usual suspects: binaural, subliminal, and the trance, which opens up a wide array of possibilities, especially for a closeted gay man like me. It's financially impossible to live in the city nowadays, especially when the rental is through the roof. Since I'm the only occupant in the one-room studio, it's natural to resort to renting out the room to another person to offset the cost to enjoy the convenience of the centrally-located apartment in the city. The first time I met Charles, he wasn't much of a looker. I blame it on his hair, which is in need of serious professional help. He was wearing an oversized t-shirt that did not do justice to a man of his size. He works at the local coffee shop down the road, which explains the coffee scent in his hair whenever he walked past me. I reckoned he's around 25 years old, though I did not actually ask. He promised to clean the entire place once a week, I couldn't be any happier. Truth to be told, I was kind of desperate, and he looked decent enough - at least he has a job - so we shook on a deal. When I stumbled upon the whole new concept of hypnosis, I was thrilled. But, how would I know if it truly worked if I have done so on myself? It wouldn't take anyone much to consider the case of convenience, right under the same roof. I went to the local hardware shop and bought some speakers and downloaded some audio software on my computer. It wasn't easy to get this figure out, but I was really eager to try. When Charles left for work at 7 am, I set my plan in motion. I equipped his room with speakers over the plastic ceiling and wired it across my working desk. So, it would play whatever I needed it to play for an extended period of time, albeit needing to run in and out just to check if the volume is optimal for subliminal tracks to play without causing any distress and potential fallout before the plan see the day of light. I move quickly, knowing that he will come back in the evening after dinner. And the rest will happen throughout the night. My moral conscience would reprimand me if I ruin one's life for my own pleasure. So I decided to start off my experiment with something light. After going through tons of hypnosis books, I attempted to write a hypnosis track that focuses on confidence and preferences. Charles would sleep naked because it's more energy efficient as such - less laundry and less electricity needed to keep cool. He would be more comfortable with his own body, and perhaps begin pay attention to his body more. That should be relatively fine and not qualified as manipulative? I have my doubts, especially on my ever-changing standards. Heh - oh well. I let the track run for a week until one faithful morning - I see my roommate walking out of his room with nothing over his bare torso. I must say, he definitely look better with his shirt off. Why would he hide his toned body over all the baggy shirts - and that would be the next thing to go. And now I know my proof of concept works. I sat back down on my computer and prepared the next script for my dearest roommate, Charles.
  18. Chapter 3: The competition It was a packed auditorium for the Leeward Islands classic bodybuilding competition. Fans were eagerly awaiting the Men’s heavyweight class to take the stage. Among the close to 500 spectators sat my girlfriend Katie. She giddily looked from side to side taking in the faces of all the people seated around her, sure that their minds were about to be all blown. I was the most muscular human any of them had ever seen, and I would soon step onto the stage. Katie had dropped me off backstage only 40 minutes prior, mere minutes before the judges were due to finish the weigh-ins. We had wanted to make my presence a secret until the last minute, and so we timed our arrival to be as late as possible. I was ushered to the scale and told to strip down to only my posing suit. I could already feel a dozen sets of eyes looking at me, other heavyweight guys in my class, some of the figure women who’d just come off stage, and some judges. They saw me walk in wearing my loose fitting sweat suit and likely thought I was some strong man competitor, wanting to make a go of bodybuilding. Some fat, overfed and out of shape guy who didn’t belong here. After all, it looked like I must have weighed 400 pounds! Keen to prove them all wrong, I pulled off my sweatshirt. I think one of the figure girls and at least 2 of my fellow heavyweight competitors gasped. I stepped onto the scale, and my weight was recorded: 408 pounds. I’d put on a few more pounds of muscle just since I’d gotten to the Island. When my class was announced, I was at the back of the line walking on stage. Finally after the other 8 competitors had strode under the lights, I made my appearance from behind the curtain. The buzz in the auditorium rose to a bit of a roar and people began to stand up and jockey around to get a better view of me. At least a couple hundred people ignored the ban on cell phone photography and started to snap furious pictures and videos of me. I honestly felt like my muscles could sense all the attention and they literally seemed like they were swelling right then and there as I was walking. That made me strut just a little bit prouder until I took my place at Stage right. At 6’4” tall I already stood above the rest of the guys in my field, and I must have outweighed the next heaviest competitor by 150 pounds. This was an amateur competition after all. All the other guys stepped back a few steps to give me a spot at the centre of the stage right under all the bright lights. The judges started to call the mandatory poses: “Front double biceps.” I bring my colossal arms up to the side, then flex them intensely. Mounds of muscle form a perfect bicep peak. My arms are bigger than the next biggest guys quads. “Side Chest.” From the side, my Pecs jut out from my body by 6 inches, and I simultaneously flex my glutes so the side of my ass in also on display. “Back lat spread.” Turning my back to the crowd, my flexed back is so developed that the different muscle groups look like they were chiselled out of granite. My tiny posing suit can barely contain my enormous tight glutes, and even my hamstrings and calf muscles are bulging at this point. The judges narrowed the field down to 3 of us, and we performed some more off the cuff poses for the crowd. The audience really roared when I gave a “most muscular” for them. And after what must have been the shortest deliberation in the history of bodybuilding, I was announced the winner. Second place wasn’t even close. After the post competition fervor died down, and I’d finished giving interviews and getting my photo taken by the various media outlets who were there, it was time for Katie and I to head back to the resort. We met up backstage where she literally ran and jumped onto me, putting her legs around my waist. She jammed her tongue into my mouth and kissed me like never before. We kissed like this for a while, then Katie whispered into my ear. “You are unlike any other man on this planet. You’ve left mankind in the dust. Humanity is all in awe of you and your muscles. I AM IN AWE OF YOU AND YOUR MUSCLES. You’re a conqueror, so take me, like I’m your prize. I want you to go medieval with me tonight, you’re the king and I’m your subject. I am here to serve you and your muscles.” I wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that! I didn’t even bother going to look for my sweat suit that I’d changed out of when I arrived at the auditorium. Fuck that, I looked so good, I didn’t care about modesty. So still oiled up from the show, and still only wearing my Red spandex posing suit, I took Katie, threw her over my shoulder and out we went from the auditorium. When we got outside, a black Masserati was waiting there. A driver and the manager from our resort were standing there and waived us down. “Excusez-moi monsieur. In honour of your victory, we would like to chauffeur you back to the resort, where your room has been upgraded to the presidential suite. Perhaps tomorrow you can perform a posing session for the rest of our guests on the beach?” “Yes, tomorrow. Certainly” I answered. “But right now, please take us back to the resort.” I gently placed Katie into the car’s back seat. On the short drive we made out furiously. Katie was normally quite an active sexual partner, but I could tell she had a different attitude tonight. She was being submissive, and almost begging for me to touch her, kiss her, run her hand over my abs. I had thought the whole “conqueror/master” thing she had whispered was just a ruse to get me turned on, but maybe she was actually as hypnotized by my muscles as everyone else had seemed to be at the show. When we got to the front of the resort, I got out of the car and threw Katie back over my shoulder. My posing suit was now bulging a little obscenely in the front from my dick which was now at half mast from making out with Katie on the drive. But I didn’t care. And neither did the couple hundred people all watching us arrive from the lobby. The Hotel manager led us to our new suite, and I swiftly closed the door. Our new room was 2200 square feet, with a loft, and huge sitting area. Along one wall, there was a 8’x8’ mirror. “What do you want from me? Ask anything and it’s yours.” Katie pleaded to me as soon as the door was shut. “Show these muscles some love. Starting with my biceps” I stated. Katie jumped up on the bed so she was standing level with my arms and immediately started devouring my bicep with her tongue. She was making out with the indent between the two heads of my bicep, flicking her tongue in and out. Simultaneously her right hand was groping my rock hard glute, and her left was going over and over my abs. I was getting pretty turned on, but there was something else I wanted to try that I figured would drive Katie nuts. I lowered down on to my knees. “Katie, get that dress and those panties off and come here.” I extended my right arm and flexed my bicep. “Now come grind your pussy on this.” Katie took the hint and dropped her dripping wet pussy onto my 26” bicep. Her vagina couldn’t even come close to taking something that massive, but she got her clit involved in the motion and within a minute had an orgasm, leaking pussy juice all over my arm. After her gasping and panting died down a few moments later, Katie got an idea. “Steven, your muscles turn me on so much, but I think we need to let you enjoy them as much as I do. Come over here.” Katie led me to the wall with the 8 foot mirror. “Now, flex as hard as you can.” I performed my front double bicep pose and the sight was my fantasy come true. I was the biggest, bulgiest, most obscenely muscled human to have ever lived. My biceps were enormous, my Pecs were gigantic, my abs were so perfectly chiselled they looked fake, my shoulders and traps were so huge and freaky they almost went up to my ears. Not an inch of my body was undeveloped. I was so turned on by the sight of my muscles that I immediately felt my posing suit being stretched by my growing hard on. Katie got down to her knees, and put her mouth up against my crotch. Sensually putting her mouth against the outside of the tightly stretched lycra of my posing trunks, she began to kiss my erect dick through the fabric. In between kisses, she started talking dirty to me and my muscles. “Steven, look at yourself. You’re huge.” And then back to work on my crotch. She removes her mouth to take a breath “That bicep of yours is perfection. If you were any bigger you wouldn’t fit in that 8x8’ foot mirror.” More kisses on my dick which is now so hard that it is sticking up out of my posing suit. “Everyone who sees your massive size must fantasize about getting to feel up your muscles. I know I would if I didn’t have them all to myself.” She takes my posing suit off, then starts sucking my shaft in earnest. But every few strokes she comes off and continues to talk me up: “Come on baby, come for me. Explode with pleasure at the sight of your perfect muscles. They are a wonder of the world.” I’m close to orgasming now, Katie is giving me the best blow job of my life. And Katie’s comments are the exact thing I want to hear. This is all I’ve ever wanted, to be the biggest, most muscular person on the planet. Not just so other people would stare at me, but so I could stare at MYSELF. Because there is nothing hotter than muscle. And I have the most muscle in the world! With those thoughts, and my reflection in the mirror running through my head I come like I’ve never come before. I shoot an enormous load into Katie’s mouth and she swallows the whole thing like a champ. She then stands up, places her arms around me (well actually her arms won’t wrap all the way around me because my back is too big) and we embrace. The two of us are as happy as we’ve ever been. Thankful that I’ve been blessed with this gift of muscle, and thankful that we’ve found each other. The two of us then go to bed, Katie’s head resting on my massive Pecs. Right before we fall asleep, Katie whispers “and to think, you’re only just getting started…” I fall asleep with a hard on.
  19. So I am putting a disclaimer here before anyone reads this. If it gets complaints, I will move it to the Member+ Section. This new series involves a 16 year old. There is sex in the later parts, but there is also Age Progression, so this teen becomes an ADULT. Just a Warning and a Precaution I wanted to take. This is also based on an RP I am currently working on with Nostson. It is still not complete but we are making sure it gets to completion so this amazing EPIC can be told in full. Currently Have enough for 4 parts... and TWO of them are already written. Anyways... Please Enjoy this twisted piece of fucked up fiction for your jerking pleasures... INFINITY BREAKERS Part 1 The Alpha The Alpha, the Universe’s only sole Guardian, is out patrolling his local city. It’s a daily thing and if he didn’t do it, well it just left it up to the local authorities. What set him apart was he had powers normal heroes didn’t have. Strength 10 times a normal human. And Super Speed. Everyone loved him, he was an all-around Hero that everyone wished they were him as well. After he just stopped another bank robbery, heading out to his next location to patrol, he noticed a teen, 16 years of age. Sizing him up 5’3” 140lbs. A nice athletic build. He was a fine specimen that in a few years when he was truly a man, He’d be one hell of a stud. The Alpha’s inner mentality made his stomach churn a bit. You see, The Alpha wasn’t always this 6’6” 345lb shredded beef of muscle. He used to be just as small as this teen, but we will get to that later. The Alpha flew in low, landing right behind the teen, pressing his first up along the wall above his head. “How’s it going sport?” He tried sounding cool, flirting in his own way as best as he could. He looked down at the teen over his pecs, as the teen looked up from his phone, giving the kid his hero’s smile. The teen watched as the fist actually punched a hole into the side of the building, bits of debris fell at their feet, a couple of pebbles and dust landed in his hair. All he could do was gawk at the massive body so close to him, eventually he saw the handsome face, smiling back. “H-hello sir!” he couldn’t find the words, his Hero was right in front of him, larger then life. “I-I’m doing fine! What are you doing here?” The Alpha placed his large hand on the teen’s shoulder, his palm fully enclosing it as he made his way to the other side of the teen’s body, bending down a bit so they were eye level. “I just finished up here, when my eye caught you! You’re a pretty handsome kid!” He took a second to adjust himself before giving him a wink and a grin. “How would you like to come back to The Alpha’s home?” The Alpha kept smiling as he brushed the dust off of the top of the teen’s hair, but in reality it was just an excuse for him to get another touch of this kid he had a crush on. The teen gasped a bit from the touch, his own hand coming up to brush against his hero’s forearm, feeling the raw power of his real life champions thick and veiny muscle. He blushed from the words, even more that this muscled powerhouse had any interest in him, and even stopping by to give him a smile and a wink. “W-why thank you, sir! You’re the most handsome guy around though! W-why would you invite me?! I-I mean, yes! Of course I want to come!” The teen continued to get flustered as he was given this once in a lifetime opportunity. The Alpha took that as his OK. In one quick sweep he spun the teen around, lifting him off his feet and scooping him into his arms. “Sorry, Sport!” He pulled a cloth out of his back pocket, tying it around the teen’s. “I can’t let you see where home is right now. So where this as a precaution and we will get there safely!” In seconds, The Alpha lifted off the ground, and took off, holding the teen close to his body, making sure even with breaking the sound barrier, the teen was safe. In mere minutes later, they slow down as The Alpha comes in for a landing, He places the teen on a chair, “Security System: Lock Down!” removing the blindfold from the teen’s eyes as giant metal shutters began closing around the entire room. “VOICE RECOGNITION COMPLETE!” the animatronic voice echoed throughout the giant room as the last shutters slid over the windows, blocking the sun completely from their views. *CLAP-CLAP* Light’s begin to turn on and illuminate the building. The teen look’s around. High Ceilings, lots of computers and electronics, even all the new and latest gaming gadgets. His hero was a gamer too! On one side of the room sat a kitchen. The other a bedroom, with a very large bed, much bigger than a King. “Wow… this is like… the room of my dreams! But why do you have all this stuff? Aren’t you busy being a hero?” The Alpha slowly pulls his gloves off, tossing them aside, followed by pulling the spandex top off his upper body. His chest glistened with sweat as he took a seat at the foot of the bed, looking over at the teen. The teens jaw dropping again from the site of his pumped body. “H-Holy fuck…” he mumbled as his body faced the hero. The Alpha pats the spot next to him on the bed as he lifts his leg up, pulling his booted foot into his lap and removing the boot, exposing his large size 15 foot. He does the same with the other boot, tossing it aside. “A hero has to have fun every now and then, doesn’t he? It gets lonely some times. The teen stepped closer, his knees threatening to give out as he approached the hero, looking away from his face, glancing down to see those massive feet and legs. He almost ended up stumbling over the massive discarded boots from not paying attention, stepping over them and making eye contact just before he was right in front of him. “Is that why you invited me then?” “Come closer, stud! I don’t bite!” He makes a chomping sound with his pearly whites. “Unless you want me to?” He winks before letting out a hardy heroic laugh. The teen backs up a bit as the hero leaned forward and pretended to bite, blushing in embarrassment as he heard the deep laugh. He slowly moves closer towards The Alpha again, sitting on the spot he initially patted, looking over at this large, muscle man’s body, seeing the thickness of his pecs and even his abs from this angle. “I-I think I’ll pass on the biting…” he was slightly confused. The hero turned to face the teen a bit. “Don’t be shy! I was once small like you! You have no need to be embarrassed in front of me.” The hero noticed the teen checking him out. Taking in everything that made him the hero. He lifted his arm up, flexed it. The bicep peaked up, perfect symmetry. “Go ahead. Touch it!” The Alpha gently takes the teen’s hand into his own, placing it on the warm rounded surface. He gives it a little flex, making it harder. “What’s your name, kid?” The teen can’t really believe what his hero was saying… he was once small like him? He watched as his hero moved his hand along his bicep. His own hand shaking a bit, but he slowly calmed down after he felt how gentle the large man was. He tried gripping the bicep, squeezing it a bit harder. Moving his second hand up on that one massive peak of hard flesh. “Oh god… I can’t even budge your arms!” He shouted excitedly, and got even more excited as his hero raised his other arm into a double bicep pose. “M-My name is Johnathan, sir! And what do you mean you were once small like me?” The Alpha watched as Johnathan continued to feel up his arms with his hands… It’s practically a worship session, which he had not hand in quite a long time, especially not from someone so HOT to him either. His own cock, stirring a bit as he got lost in the feeling. “Mmmm… A guy doesn’t just get to be like how I am, Johnny Boy… Powers… this much strength… I’m the only one like me in the entire Universe…” The Alpha lifted Johnathan up, spun him around and pulled him into his chest. “I used to be just like you a few years ago. Hell, I was even a teen! 16 to be exact…” getting lost in the feel, The Alpha ran his beard against Johnathan’s neck. His breathe warm. Pecs heaving on Johnathan’s back as he wrapped his arms around him in an embrace. “Will you be mine, Johnathan?” Johnathan blushed again as his hero gave him such a cute nickname, then snapped back to reality as hid idol he just met told him all this stuff about himself. “W-WHAT?” stammered out before he was man handled and forced into the hero’s lap. “I mean, how can I say no to you, sir?” he was being overwhelmed by everything that was happening so quick. He tried to clear his mind for a second. Thinking back to what The Alpha had told him. “You were once 16, like me. H-How did you become so…. So massive? So Powerful? So…” he took a second to swallow his fear of what he was about to ask. “S-Sexy?” Johnathan blushed as he reached up to rub his hands along the massive forearms, knowing even if he didn’t want to be there, in his heroes arms, there was no way he could move the arms holding him with his strength alone. “My power was inherited, little one…” The Alpha continued his story, kissing the teen’s neck, reaching his hand into his sexy young stud’s shorts. Johnathan blushed a bit, letting out a light moan as the large hand moved down his core and into his pants, his hands gripping onto The Alpha’s wrist as things began to move faster, not sure where things were going to go as he had never done this before with anyone, his own cock beginning to grow erect. “I mean one day the world was in complete chaos, the next I show up… seems kind of ironic don’t you think but I did clean up the mess…” His hand gripped around the shaft, 4 inches, getting harder. “Mmmm, fuck… bigger then mine used to be… and the same age.” The Alpha was lost in his own thoughts. “Fuck !&@&*$&(!*&#*(!)!*&!” The word made no sense, but the next moment changed everything. The Alpha began to breathe hard, trying to catch his breath. *THUMP* A large ball falls onto the floor, rolling away from them. “WhAt HaVe I dOnE…” The Alpha’s voice was slowly changing pitch. His shadow looming over Johnathan was beginning to shrink, and the teen felt it too. Johnathan’s back begun to sink back into the hero more. The pec’s that were once supporting him began to retract. *THUMP* Another ball… *THUMP* *THUMP* Multiple ones all bounced to different corners of the room. All different colors and some of different sizes. Johnathon snaps back to reality as he heard that strange word and the balls start to bounce. He felt movement from behind him and the higher pitch voice was beginning to worry him. “What the…” not even sure it was the same man behind him anymore, he holds the arm in front of him tighter, suddenly realizing that they are much smaller and not holding him as tightly. Johnathan turned around, just in time to see The Alpha’s body falling back onto the bed, one more ball rolls around the bed as his heroes body writhers and shrinks to even smaller sizes. “Oh my god, what’s happening to you?!” Johnathan hops over the hero’s body, leaning in over him. The hero continuing to lose size as the teen stares down. His limbs retracting inward. His torso and spine compacting. His muscles deflating. Johnathan watched as the hair on his exposed chest retreated back into his skin. All of the hero’s manly appeal wasted away and reverted back to a more boyish charm as he devolved and shrank. His body reaching Johnathan’s size, before slipping even smaller as he returned to his original 16 year old self. His super hero tights were now loose, his cock no longer bulging outward as it had also returned to its old 3 inch pencil dick size. The Alpha gave one final *GASP* as his memories of the things he had done stayed, but his genius intellect pushed his way out of his head, creating a large jawbreaker, that rolled itself right into Johnathan’s hand that was still watching in utter amazement as his hero became a 5ft 120lb wimp… To Be Continued…
  20. Greetings and thank you for reading my story. This year I was inspired by the Netflix series "Altered Carbon" - however, don't fret if you haven't seen it, I've still crafted a narrative with the aim that non-viewers will enjoy too. That said... on with the muscle! Enhanced Carbon “Archive complete. Stack seven-nine-nine-zero-four-two confirmed. Download confirmed. Ready for new archive. Waiting…” Softly lilting the mechanized computer voice burbled from the workstation speakers, over the sound of slurping from a cup of triple café cortado, held in Vicente’s shaking hand. Too much caffeine for this sleeve… dios mío… but just a few more hours… He put the cup down and wiped his brow with the back of his hand, the terminal screen reflecting in his eyeglasses in the otherwise darkened room. All the other technicians had punched out, but here he was on the night shift, doing double time. He lined up the next stack, a silvery, curved disc with bee-cell like filigree spreading out across its surface. A faint glow within added to the dim light as he placed it in the receptacle for download. His well worn fingers typing in the name and archive destination. “Stack received. Confirm identity…” Vicente’s fingers danced across the keyboard, even as he suppressed a yawn despite the overdose. Having to remind himself why he was pushing himself so hard and staying so late. Remember the plan hombre. Push yourself; burn this sleeve out, so you can use the credits for a better one next time… just one more year should be enough… who needs sleep anyway… He shook his head, clearing his blurry vision, looking down at the form the stack had arrived with. Gonzalez. The corner of his mouth twitched to a smile as he input the name from the form into the computer. I knew a Gonzales when I was at school… never the same once he was resleeved into that chick tho… He chuckled to himself, then sighed, looking at the pile of stacks to his left. “Archive complete. Stack eight-four-three-one-zero-four-zero confirmed. Transfer confirmed…” Only another few hundred stacks to get through tonight. He could do this… a better sleeve awaited… He yawned again, the memory of Gonzales already gone from his mind. * * * Jose opened his eyes, jolting, like he was waking up from a bad dream. Blinking a few times, he sought to clear his vision, the sensation akin to feeling like a thin layer of film was slowly being pulled away from virgin eyes. He knew immediately he wasn’t in virtual - that simulated reality space his consciousness would occupy between sleeves. This was the real deal. Reality, a new life, a new body. The room was stark white; wonderful pristine walls and ceiling entering his vision first. He felt that he was on a comfortable chair, noticed the wires at his temple for the download into this sleeve. This sleeve. Even as he took his first breaths, he felt something was… very different. Very unexpected. The weight on his chest, just the physical, indomitable act of breathing produced a sensation of heaviness… girth. At first he thought it was the sleeve-sickness that he’d been told to expect. This was his first resleeving, after all. But as he stirred into life, settling into his new skin, he found that this was no sickness, no sickness at all. A cry escaped his lips - an unfamiliar voice - expressing surprise. Mixed with… delight. And just for a moment, he thought perhaps he was in virtual, for this sleeve was so far beyond his expectations, so far into the realm of fantasy, that it was like something from a dream. The first sight bulging into his vision was his chest; enormous, slab-like, juicy pectoral masses that seemed to swell before his eyes with his very sharp intake of breath. Almost involuntarily he twitched, causing a massive tectonic shift of a flex across them, fibres rippling. He couldn’t help but take them in - so large they took up nearly the entirety of what he could see. Sight failing him in comprehension, his hands instinctively went up to explore, and magnetically they went straight to two dollar-sized, thick nipples which were most definitely pointing down by the burden of mass they sat upon. Movement of arms caused his next glance to travel to his limbs, another audible gasp escaping his lips - bicep so huge it was like someone had stuffed a bowling-ball under his skin, vascular with veins and corded more like serpents feeding the muscle than anything else. His forearms bloomed as juicy ham-like structures, rippling, demanding attention all to themselves. He couldn’t quite see his triceps, but he certainly could feel them as they vied for space with his lat muscles - he could feel them there, swelling out like a manta-ray’s wingspan, itching to be fully unfurled. Like a child at Christmas - certainly an overgrown child indeed - he swung his legs over the side of the reclined chair that was supporting him, noticing how there was a mirror on the opposite wall. He needed to see more. So much more. As he approached the mirror - waddled - feeling so much sensation and weight with every thudding step - he drank in his lower body. Those weren’t quads - they were tree-trunks, they were pillars, carved in muscular relief. He could see the different muscle heads shifting and flexing with his walk - to say nothing of his calves, which were engorged to the point where he was sure they would touch long before he could ever think of bringing his feet together. In the reflection too he was able to appreciate his abdominal wall, which had until now been obscured to him. Not an ounce of fat - the waist an incredible proportion in width compared to his upper-body. He truly had an unbelievable X shape. His whole body appeared to be slightly tanned, covered in a light trail of coffee-black fuzz which thickened at his chest, and indeed he had a masculine groomed beard sitting atop his stunningly-angled jawline, piercing blue eyes like a polar bear’s must be, as he looked deep into the reflection of the new superman he had been poured into. Now flexing in earnest, speaking aloud his first words “Fucking… incredible…” he turned to try and see his back and how defined the rest was, even his glutes sticking out with so much muscle he would forever be raised several inches into the air by their mass whenever he sat. It was at this point he swallowed hard, noting that within the purple posing trunks they - The designers? - had slipped him into for modesty, lay a behemoth of a cock, surely bigger soft than he’d ever seen a natural man when hard, with testicles to match, roughly the size of oranges. Just drawing his attention to this monster seemed to stir it awake, he could feel the twitch and slight strain of fabric as it started to fill in the first flushes of excitement - just as the door to the room slid open with a proud, jarring woosh. “Ah - Mr. Gonzales. You’re already up. That was quick...” He froze, like a deer in headlights, wondering just what he’d gotten himself into, and what kind of terrible, yet wonderful mistake had been made. * * * “It’s just like going to sleep, honestly honey,” the young, petite asian girl on the screen said, smiling and wiping sweat from her forehead, hands stained with grease. “You don’t even know time has passed. I promise it won’t be too long,” she gave a thin, reassuring smile. “Thanks mother… I know…” he croaked, hand covering his mouth, fighting the urge to cough. The bald hispanic man slumped in the back of the air taxi grimaced as they passed through cloud, hitting a little turbulence. Not long to go now. “It’s just, you know, they say the first desleeving is the worst. Even if it is voluntary…” The woman nodded in sympathy. “They said that to me too chiquito… but honestly, no drama…” He went to reply, but ended up breaking into a fierce, back-breaking coughing again. The woman on the screen frowned. “You’ve gotten worse. Getting this done just in time. You waited too long…” Through burning tears, he steadied himself after the attack. “I didn’t want to burden you mama…” He finally croaked. “No burden. I’m making enough credits here… that’s why I wanted to call! They’ve increased my pay… I should have enough for your new sleeve in only ten years my love, not fifteen.” He smiled, and brushed the smooth surface of his head, still expecting there to be foliage there. Only the latest thing his Ascraeusian Cancer had wrought upon his sleeve, and it wouldn’t be the last. The skin he touched was raw and angry, dermis dry and flaking. He looked, and felt, a mess. “Wonderful… I shouldn’t miss as much as I thought, then…” Another jolt, and his air-cab passed through the final layer of cloud. Bright blue lights in the night sky sprang up before him, and as they made their way to the landing-pad he saw the words Indigo Private Sleevecare shining into the dark. He mouthed a silent Spanish prayer, and turned his attention back to the screen. “OK mother. We’re here. I love you…I’ll… see you soon, I guess.” “Like going to sleep, chiquito,” she repeated again. “I’ll be there when you wake up. Love you, Jose.” * * * The hulk in the cabin took in a sharp intake of breath. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest, he thought it might have been visible were it not buried beneath inches upon inches of steel-hard muscle, even then stretching the grey tank-top to it’s limit. Jose Gonzalez was going home - not his home - but the home of the person whose lewdly-swollen sleeve he was now wearing. And that person was, it seemed, a fucking Meth - the richest of the rich - and he was about to pass himself off as belonging to a world he’d only ever dreamed of, never seen. All 520 pounds of him tensed in anticipation as through the glass of the sleek black sky-limousine, the shining silver tower of his abode in the clouds came into view, guiding lights bringing them in. Thoughts of abandoning his deception came, but were fleeting. Throughout the journey he couldn’t help but feel himself up; the thirty-inch biceps bulging, the slightest movement of his neck meeting meat as his traps reminded him of his flesh. An intoxicating spell - which is why, when he’d met the resleeving doctor, he’d kept his mouth shut, understanding what had happened. It was just supposed to be a standard desleeve; his illness so virulent, disposing of the body was cheaper than cure. He couldn’t afford a new sleeve right away but he could afford secure storage for his stack at Indigo - one of the best on the continent. He knew it was good, because he knew Meths also used their services for customised, 3D printed sleeve alterations. Not cheap… the sleeve he was wearing was, he found out, absolutely bespoke, and would have cost a dozen lifetimes for someone like him to procure. And it was just to his tastes… his every fantasy. Whatever mixup had occurred, he was compelled to ride it out as long as possible. The doctor had checked him over - apparently this sleeve was the first to be created at this sheer immensity, and some tests were necessary. “A wonderful starting size,” the physician had purred, a clean-shaven, green-eyed and French-sounding man in a white lab coat. He definitely seemed to take pride in his handiwork. He was cute, too. “S… starting size?” Jose had rumbled, one of the few times he’d dared speak for fear of giving the game away. Nodding and grunting had seemed to get him through plenty, which was apparently what everyone expected from whomever his sleeve had been intended for. “That’s right padre. Don’t forget, this sleeve is all loaded up with my patented Myostatin-Inhibited coding. I look forward to seeing how things look next time you visit.” He’d given the watermelon-sized bicep a squeeze, which caused Jose to instinctively pull back. “Aw… saving it for Lars then… I understand…” came the playful admonition. Lars… my partner? The whole journey from the facility, after he’d been discharged into the waiting vehicle, his mind was fixated upon wondering about that significant other. Okay… if I’m really doing this… if… if I really mean to keep this body… it’s them I’m going to have to convince… god, this is crazy! A hangar-doorway in the side of the sleek metallic tower yawned open, and swallowed them up. The bright light of the sun was replaced by a diffuse, welcoming light from artificial panels overhead. He realised, as he rolled his massive thighs around each other to exit the vehicle, that the limo must have been specially modified in order to convey his now-superflous bulk. No expense spared indeed. Barely getting time to mumble his thanks to the driver, who was closing the door behind him, than a squeal of delight penetrated his hearing, ricocheting off the hangar walls. “Aaaah! Baby… you did it! Oh my god…” From an open iris-shaped doorway, an expansive plush-red hallway behind him, a scantily-clad, twinkish, blonde figure was charging towards him, down a short flight of stairs into the hangar-bay. He was wearing nothing but a silken cherryblossom-patterned robe, which was flapping open and trailing in his wake and across his rakish arms, exposing his lean, but muscular torso, bright-red jockstrap and flip-flops completing the ensemble. His face was high-boned, elegant, and there was the hint of queenish makeup around his eyes. It matched the brightly-painted long nails he wore, which was the very last detail Jose was able to take in before he found that self-same person flung against him, kissing his face (and pectorals) with longing passion. “Oh baby baby… I missed you… oh wow… fuck… it’s everything you said it would be…” He rumbled something akin to an admonition, and the enthusiastic man peeled back. “Hm? You okay baby? Still a lil’ sleeve-sick?” “Mmm… just a bit…” he replied, staring down at his new boyfriend, heart beating in his chest. The size difference was dizzying. Lars was of course a full-grown man, if a little on the small side. But next to him, he seemed to be nothing more than a child. His pec was about the size of the man’s head, a fact that caused his monster to stir - a fact that wasn’t unnoticed by Lars. “Well baby,” he said with a mischievous smirk. “Not that sick I see. Come on in and let’s get our welcome-home party started…” he grabbed Jose by the paw, and tugged him in the direction of the doorway he’d emerged from. Leaving the hangar behind, he ducked his head going through and emerged into an opulent curved hallway - a soft merlot colored carpet under his feet, plinths with classical carved marble figures of nude male figures passing by. Posters of ancient-Earth era bodybuilders, bulging with muscle from out of their frames. “Ooooh…” Came a voice that sounded like Lars’, but not from him. It came from an open doorway as they passed, and turning his meaty neck he saw that a duplicate of his boyfriend had emerged, and the next moment he was seeing double as one clung to each of his veiny arms. “Stunning work my love,” the newcomer whispered. “You’re the God you always wanted to be…” “You… you’re double-sleeved…” he said in revelation; a shrill giggle from each of the clones was the only reply he got, even as they reached the end of the corridor and a set of double-doors swung open before them, the sensation of hot steam issuing forth as he was pulled within. “Hello, baby…” “Welcome home darling!” “So big… I call dibs on his quad…” The voices issued forth out of the steam as, nakedly, a host of clones of the thin young man stepped forth, out of their perches in the sauna where they had seemingly been waiting, getting themselves into a sexual frenzy in anticipation of his arrival. He gasped in shock at the sheer cost and decadence of it all, even as the hands on his arms released him, and began pulling away his clothes with gusto. Too big, too unwieldy to even think of resisting, he stood before them as a slab of pure meat in all his naked, testosterone-engorged glory. “Hmmmmf…” a grunt of delight already escaping his lips as another pair found his nipple. Sucking. Worshipping. They had planned this, obviously… he and Lars and all his clones. One body, so much pleasure… By the time his trousers had been yanked away - a task that took the combined efforts of three of the ten clones present - his monster cock was already chubbed to a semi that was doing its best effort to tear asunder his briefs with no extra assistance. Two pairs of hands massaged the surface of his meat, another cupping his prodigious ballsack as his other nipple was attended to. He growled gutturally, all worries about deception gone, sheerly living in this moment of pleasure as he embraced being the beast he’d been reborn into. As he flexed his right bicep moans of admiration erupted all around him, hands yearning and reaching out squeezing him, so in the spirit of indulgence he raised his left also. Double biceps peaking into vascular mountains, he grinned and gave them such a show, the flesh starting to glisten from the steam. The many hands around his meat, now fully-hard at some 24 inches, were replaced by lips and tongues. So too was his hole probed, an unseen Lars on his knees behind him and hungrily devouring his sensitive pucker in between his mountainous glutes. Every one of the ten attending to him, worshipping him. “Yes… f...fffuuuuck, yes….!” “Hold on baby… don’t you go wasting that cream yet…” He was tugged and pushed into position, sitting back on a cushioned surface that creaked under his weight, semi-crushing four of them, staring wondrously into the eyes of the first Lars he’d encountered, the twink pushing aside two others to get at his throbbing meat. When he began straddling him in earnest, in between the worshipping kisses from the others he managed to rumble “Woah you can’t… I’ll... I’ll wreck you…” That same smirk returned. “Mmmmno honey. I’ve been modified to take you, remember? Now… gimme all you got! My moo cow… gimme that bull milk!” He didn’t even have to think twice, after hearing that. Like the sleeve had a buried memory of what to do, he thrust his hips forward into the younger man’s lubed, waiting hole like they were designed for each other. So tight. Mmmmfuck... Yes!… I could get used to this. And then, the fucking began. * * * Hours later, in another wing of the expansive residence, he was dozing peacefully, eyelids fluttering underneath thick, bushy eyelids as he dreamed his dream. There were only two Lars’ now, the “original” as he’d come to think of him, and one clone they’d kept around a bit longer for fun. All the others had gone back into storage, just as intended, ready for the next time they were feeling frisky. Soft harp music drifted from the direction of the balcony, weather-screened to block out the wind but still letting streams of golden sunlight in. A caged bird added its melody to the quiet noise as they recovered from their lovemaking. For Jose, a slice of heaven he never thought he’d attain. And then, the commotion. His eyes snapped awake, the dream lost, as there was a sudden banging coming from the corridor. A squeal of surprise and a sudden bang, as if someone, and one of the relics had just been pushed over. Blearily he looked at his two Lars’, as if they could answer what on earth it was, but they each were already cowering behind their bedsheets. Oh fuck. Am I being robbed? A Meths robbery on” my first fucking day? There was a moment of quiet, and then the doorway to the bedroom flung itself open, and a grotesquely familiar figure stomped towards him, and all the color drained from Lars’ face as he stared into the maddened eyes of his old sleeve. “YOU!” A bellowing furious accusation came from the man. His voice… and yet, not his person. He’d never been so angry as this person was. “Imposter! Fucking… thief!” He staggered over, even as Jose tried to spur his bulk into motion. His old sleeve looked awful, so much more worse than he remembered, skin covered in sores from the progression of his sickness, and clearly wearing thin from the exertion of getting up here to him. In his hand, he was clutching a black onyx pole which Jose immediately recognized as a Protectorate Enforcer Stun Stick. It’s tip glowing with the promise of pain and oblivion. Lars shrieked. “Baby help… don’t let him hurt me!” He said, clutching up all the sheets, wriggling away. “Wait… there’s been a mistake!” He pleaded, chest heaving expansively. “You’re fucking right about that,” came the reply, spittle flying. It was the last words he heard before the stick was brought down upon his thigh, too slow and surprised to escape. As electromagnetic discharges zapped through his nervous system, sending him to unconsciousness, all he could hear was Lars’ shriek one last time. * * * He jolted. Eyes blinking, clearing his vision. A deep breath. I’m… I’m not dead? I’m… I’m back? He was lying on a table, lights shining down upon him in an unfamiliar room. Immediately, he looked down, to see what kind of sleeve he was in. Miracle of miracles… it was a body he remembered well. His old sleeve. Wearing nothing but a pair of blue posing trunks. And… looking healthy? He exhaled. Closed his eyes in thanks. Then the events preceding his unconsciousness came rushing back, and his eyes snapped open again in alarm. “Awake again… my little thief…” crooned a voice from the shadow of the corner of room. Stepping into the light, a severe-looking, sharp-suited silver-haired gentleman strode into view. His face was full of such intent malice that Jose instinctively tried to leap up to get away - but found himself frozen, paralysed, like something from a nightmare. Oh… oh no… “Oh yes,” the stranger answered, as if he could hear his thoughts. “You’re in virtual. After I got you out of that sleeve you stole - my sleeve - there was nowhere else to put you. You’re mine now, you bastard.” “N… no, please!” he begged, feeling an unfamiliar sensation creep over his virtual body. Soft prickling. His mind raced thinking about all the horrible torture his captor could wreak upon him. Dismemberment… flaying… bones broken or teeth shattered…. All that pain and it could be repeated over and over again in this virtual reality prison... “I’ve already dealt with the technician responsible for our little switch,” he said, shaking his head. “It was a mistake waiting to happen - just one letter different in our names - but why you thought you’d get away with it I’ll never know. Much less why you fucked my husband, in my bed!” “I just… your sleeve… it was everything-” “Yes. Everything you ever wanted. I know, Jose. We’re very alike, in that.” The prickling increased. All over his body, a warmth, a heat, like something building from within. He thought it should be horrible… but he didn’t want to say, that it was starting to feel pleasant. “So… the mistake has been corrected. They spun me up in their own virtual clinic, you see, thinking I was you. Part of the procedure of storage is a mental health check. Of course, I was furious when I found out I wasn’t in the sleeve I’d pay for. I did all my research on you…” He came close, baring his teeth. “You’re never going to see your mother again, you bastard. I had all the time I needed to think about how to punish you on the way over, and that was before you impregnated Lars!” “Im… impregnated?!” He squirmed in surprise, even as he saw his skin rippling… muscles growing. The real Jose Gonzales smirked. “We had some alterations done. It was all planned out… and you ruined it. So you’re such a pleasure seeker… I could have killed you. Instead I’m going to watch you choke on what you wanted so badly you had to steal it...” Prone on the table, he watched his chest balloon out, swelling into mounds that resembled the sleeve he’d stolen, the rest of the body following suit. And it wasn’t stopping. “Wh… what’s happening?!” “You’re growing. This program was a fantasy of mine… I enjoyed it very much. I have the real thing now, of course. But you… you’re going to be stuck here. I’ve made some alterations…” “No… mmmnnn…” He began to plead… but pleasure was bearing down upon him, clouding his vision. “Oh yes, indeed. All this growth… all this muscle, and you’ll be stuck. Unable to move… unable to cum… always on the edge of it... “ His smile became toothsome. “And then, just when you can’t take any more… when you’ve filled up this room… immobile with mass… you’ll feel what it’s like to explode. Literally. from every inch. Only to be resurrected and feel it happening all over again. Forever… or until I tire of you.” Jose heard the judgement passed down, feeling himself spread out in every inch. His cock had already swung to half-mast, chubbing bigger by the second. He was thrilled and terrified in equal measure. He was going to be tortured with the very thing he loved and wanted the most. It was diabolical. “I’m… s...sorry…” “You aren’t yet. But you will be. Goodbye, Mr. Gonzalez.” His last words, before suddenly vanishing. The program continued to run, and he continued to grow. As he would always. And grow. And grow. END
  21. Here is chapter 2 of Steven's muscle building project. Again, I'm new at this so go easy on me! I really tried to focus on what life would be like for someone who achieves a truly massive size so I hope I paint a good picture of that fantasy coming true for our story's hero! Hope you enjoy. Chapter 2 Bliss. That was the only word I could use to describe my new life as a fulltime bodybuilder. Every day I got closer and closer to reaching my goal of becoming a mass monster, and I had found the most amazing girl in the world to call my girlfriend. Not only my girlfriend, but my number one fan, biggest support, personal trainer, financier and personal chef all in one! Our lives revolved around one thing and one thing only: making me bigger. The weeks ticked by and the two of us spent no time with anyone except each other, and of course Ilya when I went for my weekly injections. Not having to go to work and being able to concentrate only on bodybuilding had made my progress even more rapid. The more mass I put on, the more turned on Katie became by my muscles, and that in turn made her wish for me to become even bigger! Besides our nightly oilings/muscle worship sessions, Katie had requested that I pose for her at least once if not twice per day. I was all to happy to comply, as nothing got me off more than seeing her get turned on by my mass. I’d strip down naked and apply some lotion so my skin would shine, then while she lay on the bed rubbing her clit I’d go through a posing routine as if I was on stage at the Olympia. Not only was this a sexual exploit, but it had the added bonus of helping me to perfect my posing routine. It never took her more than a couple of minutes before the sight of my muscles drove her to orgasm. By the time she came, I’d be rock hard and all it took was a couple quick strokes of my own to bring me to an orgasm of my own. We’d then clean up, and get back to the business of making me bigger. June came, and one sunny evening after I’d eaten and trained and eaten some more, we decided to pretend we were normal people and did what normal people do: got a coffee and went for a walk by the waterfront. I was wearing the biggest jeans and T-shirt that I owned but they were being stretched to the limit by my size. I was bursting out of the T-shirt in every way imaginable, and my jeans looked like they were painted on. In fact, if I had attempted a squat in them, they would surely have ripped to shreds then and there. Lets just say, it wasn’t exactly hard to attract attention walking around like this. Katie and I noticed that virtually everyone, man or woman, who walked by turned their heads and stared. As the evening sun shone down on the glistening lake front, I began to notice dozens of people starting to take pictures of me. So I decided to put on a little show, and brought my arms up into a double biceps pose, then turned around to show off my incredibly wide back. Smart phones could be heard snapping photos all around me. I could tell Katie was incredibly turned on, and so was I. When the sun set, it was time to get back home for another feed, so off we rushed. As I was downing my 5 plates of supper, Katie did some quick social media searches to see if anyone had posted their photos of me. It turned out that I had become somewhat of a local phenomenon. Hundreds of people had posted pictures of me under hashtags like #muscle, #bodybuilder, #Torontomuscle, and #sexy. Katie grinned, knowing that I had made it into a couple hundred people’s so called “spank bank” but knowing that she had me all to herself. For my part, I felt validated knowing I was becoming a muscle sculpture that the world could gaze upon in wonder. “That was fun, I liked seeing everyone react to you. I don’t think most of them had ever seen anything like it. Let’s get you even bigger in secret, then next time do another reveal where you really blow their minds.” “Oh that sounds like fun” I replied. “in that case, why don’t you get me another plate of steak?” Katie smirked, then dutifully dished me up another 600grams of steak which she insisted on cutting up and sensually feeding to me one muscle building forkful at a time. The next day, I had my appointment with Ilya. He’d been on vacation for all of May so although I still received my injections (he’d given Katie instructions on how to inject me at home), we hadn’t performed any body size measurements in a month. So at my first appointment in early June, I was eager to see how I’d progressed. The moment I walked in the door, his mouth dropped open wide. “Steven, you’re massive!” he proclaimed. “It’s only been a month, how could you have put on so much size?” Grinning, I told him “when I dream of something, I really put my mind to it. Besides, I’m bodybuilding fulltime now and Katie has been a great support, not to mention motivator. But come on, you’re making me blush, I can’t be THAT much bigger, like you said it’s only been a month.” Ilya rushed me to his physicians weigh scale. When the scale was finally balanced, I glanced down to see where I was at. 285 it read. I weighed Two Hundred and Eighty-five Pounds! I had put on 105 pounds of muscle since I’d moved to Toronto, and 72 pounds in the 4 months since February! No wonder I’d gotten so many stares from everyone out in public the night before, I was now well and truly a world class bodybuilder. My other stats were just as impressive: 21” biceps, 4.5% bodyfat, 29”quads, 30” waist. “Steven, there’s really no denying it. If this progress continues, within a few more months you will have left the rest of humanity in the dust. Are you sure you want to continue?” “More than ever. I am becoming the man I was born to be. I want to become a freak, the likes of which have never been seen before!” I answered confidently. Smiling, Ilya replied “Okay, okay, yes, yes, yes. Of course. I simply wanted to give you some insight into how much progress you’ve made so far. But if you wish to continue, I too am eager to see how much bigger you can become. So let’s get you your injection so you can get out of here and get back to training, yes?” I was on cloud nine for the rest of that day. At this rate, by the end of June, I would have reached my original goal of 300 pounds. Which meant it was time to set my sights higher. Much higher. I trained for my customary 3 and a half hours, then got home to the sight of my lover cooking me dinner in her lace bra and thong. “Hey baby, get those muscles over to the table and get this food in you” she playfully told me. “Listen, Katie, I’ve got some news. You know how everyone was staring at me yesterday, do you know why?” “Well because you’re a muscle stud, that’s why. Is that what you were getting at?” Katie replied. “Yeah, but I don’t think we realized just HOW BIG I’ve become. We’ve been in our own little world for the last two months, and without realizing it I’ve hit 285 pounds!” Katie’s eyes went wide for a second. “Really? Wow… Soooo” she trailed off and then looked away. “What is it baby? What’s wrong?” I asked. “Well it’s just, your original goal was to hit 300 pounds, and you’re now only 15 pounds away. So at this rate, you’ll be all done in a couple weeks. And it’s just that, I’ve really enjoyed our journey so far. Me helping you train, and eat, and pose has been the most rewarding, most sexually gratifying experience of my life. And not only that, but I just LOVE spending time with you, you’re a great companion and having this goal to work towards has been the centrepiece of our relationship since we started dating. Without it, I don’t know what life would be like… Plus if I’m honest, as much as I love to worship and feel up your muscles, what REALLY turns me on isn’t what you look like today, but imagining what you’ll look like 6 months from now: even more impossibly huge, more ripped, leaner, more freaky! Without that, I’ll still love you, but my life will feel somewhat… diminished. But I know I have no right no force my desires on you, it’s your body, you should do with it what you feel is right.” By now, I was smiling warmly. I touched Katie’s cheek, and she turned to face me once again. “Katie. I don’t think you have to worry about a thing. 300 pounds was only my goal when I was just starting out. That was when I thought I’d have to fight tooth and nail to reach it, but now that I have you and Ilya helping me out, I think it’s time I dream bigger. I think it’s time WE dream bigger. I have some ideas of my own, but just how big do YOU want me to get? Because I have some deep, dark desires, and if you want me to, I can unleash them. But in order to go down that road, I want to know I’ll have you by my side the whole time. Because if I decide to truly explore my desires, I will have achieved a look and size that no one else has even come close to.” I was still holding Katie’s cheek in my hand, and as I said this I felt her shudder. She smiled mischievously. “Steven, I have an active imagination, and my deep dark desires have been unleashed ever since the first time I saw you. There is no limit to how big I want you to get. The day that moving becomes virtually impossible for you, and you can no longer fuck me, then we can start to consider stopping your growth, but until then I say the bigger the better.” “Well okay then. All this talk has made me crave getting even bigger. How about you come with me to the gym and I’ll go do another workout. I can feel my muscles craving to be pushed to the limit. I guess 3 and a half hours of weight training per day isn’t enough.” I led Katie by the hand and off we went, back to the gym. There was one thing weighing me down, however. I hadn’t seen my family back home since Christmas, and I’d put on about 85 pounds of muscle since then. My physique would be unrecognizable to them. Not only that, but Katie and I truly intended to push my growth to the limit in the months to come. I figured it was now or never to introduce Katie to my family, and show them the new me. Hopefully their freak out would be short lived, and I could tell them to expect more growth in the future. So at the end of June, with me weighing just under 300 pounds we booked 3 plane tickets back to my hometown. 1 ticket for Katie, and 2 for me. I didn’t really fit in a single seat anymore. On the flight, we came up with a rousing speech to give to my parents. It was half truth, half fiction. All intended to reduce their freak-out. I was going to tell them that my Window Washing job was incredibly physical and I had started to put on size just from the hard labour. Realizing that I had loved the idea of getting stronger I’d joined a gym and found I was a natural at weight training. At which point a scientist who saw me at the gym approached me and asked me to join a research study aimed at determining the maximum human potential with the goal of using my results to provide the medical field with potential medical breakthroughs in the future. And his treatments were why I had put on so much size. I would say that I wasn’t sure at first about getting bigger, but me and Katie had come to terms with it knowing that I was helping to find new medical breakthroughs that could help others in the future. We would neglect to tell them that in fact Katie and I were muscle crazed addicts, and that this whole venture had been my only reason for moving away. That I’d dreamed of this for years prior, and that Ilya’s treatments were accomplishing only one thing: growth. True though, I WAS a natural at weight training, and I WAS well on my way to determining the maximum human potential. And of course, I HAD been a Window Washer, but we’d leave out the fact that I had left my job a couple months before. When we met my parents, the meeting went as expected. Their jaws dropped, and they asked me a million questions. It was clear they disapproved. They didn’t even acknowledge Katie at first, they were so focused on my look. Katie smiled, and stepped away to go get our bags. I gave my fictitious explanation speech to my parents, and they warmed up a little bit. When Katie came back with our luggage, they greeted her warmly and apologized for not introducing themselves. Katie was warm, and bubbly and they took to her immediately. In fact, she melted their hearts with kindness and after a couple of days I think they were so happy to see me with a nice girl like Katie, they didn’t really care what else was going on in my life. After a 4 day visit (any longer and I feared that I’d start losing muscle. I couldn’t eat more than 7000 calories a day or go to the gym for more than 2 hours without arousing my family’s suspicion) we were back at the airport to fly home. I’d gotten a monkey off my back, introducing my family to the “new” me, and I had vaguely suggested that I “might” look a “little bigger” the next time they see me, but it wouldn’t be anything drastic. That was an out and out lie, but hey, memories can be blurry and perhaps the next time they saw me they’d find some way to justify it by saying “well I guess he was just bigger than we remembered him being.” When we got home, we decided to come up with a new “temporary goal” for us to work towards. I say “us” because lets face it, Katie was as invested in my growth as I was at this point. She asked me who was my IFBB idol. I mentioned that back when I was dreaming about becoming a bodybuilder, I really wanted to look like Gunter Schlierkamp. We pulled up his stats and at his peak he was 6’1”, 300 pounds when competition lean. This gave him an FFMI of 38. Using an FFMI calculator we plugged in my height to see what I’d need to weigh to look like him. The answer was 325 pounds! I was only 25 pounds away from being just as big as one of the biggest pro bodybuilders of all time! It only took until August 1 to reach my goal. I had now accomplished my lifelong dream: I was an ABSOLUTELY MASSIVE human, who could walk on stage and compete with the top bodybuilders in the world. And so, we revised our goal upwards: 400 pounds sounded like a nice round number. And when we reached that we would reward ourselves with two things: a trip, and entering me into a bodybuilding show. In order to keep the growth coming, Katie had to increase my calorie intake from 15,000 to 20,000 per day. 15,000 was simply what was required to MAINTAIN my current size. My muscles craved protein, and with every meal I could almost sense the food going straight to my muscles. We had to make some changes in our lifestyle to accommodate my size too. I no longer fit in the shower in our condo. Well, I fit, but there was no way for me to turn around, and since I took up so much room Katie couldn’t fit in there anymore to help wash or shave me. So she worked out an agreement where we would get access to my gym after hours and so after I was done working out, she would accompany me to the large 4 person shower where we’d get clean. I also no longer fit into my VW golf. The trusty steed had served me while so far, but now when we I got in, the suspension immediately bottomed out and the little car tilted to one side. Plus I was so wide I couldn’t really move my arms to shift gears or turn the steering wheel. So Katie got us a minivan. Seriously! She was now the designated driver, while I would take up the whole middle bench seat. This had the added bonus that now that I was no longer driving I could spend the time commuting to and from the gym eating to feed my muscles. None of the clothes I owned fit me anymore. To be honest, I’d actually gone and gotten a whole new set of clothes back when I was in the 260 pound range but now all of THOSE clothes were too small too. It didn’t really make sense to go and constantly buy new clothes that I’d soon grow out of, so I didn’t. I simply wore XXXL sweat pants and sweat shirts when I was out and about (which was basically only going to Ilya’s and to the gym anyways). And since I now worked out at the gym after hours, I took to wearing only a pair of lycra 4” inseam workout shorts. We had to go get a custom bed made because I was so heavy and wide for our King bed, that Katie just always rolled into me at night. Not that she didn’t want to spend the night cuddled in tight to my rippling mass, but there was starting to be a serious risk of our bed collapsing. So we had a custom mattress made that was 3 feet wider, with a bed frame made of 4x4 Douglas fir. By the 1 year anniversary of me starting my muscle building journey, I weighed 350 pounds. An increase of 170 pounds. It took until mid October to hit 400 pounds, and so Katie and I rewarded ourselves by booking our vacation. First we searched for somewhere warm that was hosting a bodybuilding contest. Having found one being hosted on the Luxurious Island of St Barts in the Caribbean the next weekend we then booked flights and hotels on the Island. “I’m going to have to do some shopping, I have nothing to wear for this vacation!” I complained to Katie a few days before we were ready to leave. “Well how about you let me take care of that? You need to focus on training and getting your posing routine ready for the competition. I’ll go out and find you a new wardrobe.” She was right, I had lots to do, so I agreed to let her do my packing for me. Travelling to the airport it was chilly, so I wore my customary XXXL sweat suit. Boarding the plane was quite a debacle as I had to stand sideways in order to fit through the narrow door to board the plane. I then had to shuffle sideways down the centre aisle leading to our seats in the back since when I tried to walk straight my arms, and my quads would get stuck between the seats on either side. We got settled in our seats, but shortly afterwards a flight attendant came to speak to me and said that the pilots had seen me boarding the plane and were worried that all my weight situated so far back would throw the planes centre of balance off, so they needed me to move further up to seats over the wings. I don’t know if I’ve even blushed so much: I was so big that I was causing a 737 to be thrown off balance! We arrived and I was anxious to get changed, since I was still wearing a sweat suit and we were now in the 30 degree heat. “Just wait until we get to the hotel, baby” she told me. Of course, Katie was wearing a sexy sun dress that clung tightly to her incredible figure. But I relented, and looking like a sweaty mess, we finally arrived in our room. “I didn’t want anyone to see how big you were. The competition is tomorrow and I want to take the place by storm! Imagine the gasps we’ll hear when you walk out on stage. No one will have seen anything like you! That’s why you need to keep wearing sweats until after the show. And then, I’ve got a whole new wardrobe for you. See look:” Katie opened up my suitcase. I laughed and then realized I should have expected something like this when I agreed to let Katie pack for me. There weren’t any normal clothes at all. Certainly no pants, and no shirts either. Zero. What WAS in there was dozens of pairs posing trunks, speedos, and short square cut swimsuits, in every colour and fabric imaginable. “Katie, don’t get me wrong I would love to wear all this, but don’t you think I’ll need to wear some fancy clothes when we go out? I can’t wear this skimpy stuff ALL DAY!” Katie was expecting that comment, so she knew exactly what to say to get me on her side “Steven, baby, after tomorrow, your body is going to be the only thing people on this Island are talking about. You will be performing a public service by putting it on display for them. I guarantee, you will look so natural in your posing trunks that you won’t want to wear anything else! And besides, it’s the French Caribbean: everybody wears skimpy swimsuits down here. Look, I brought thong bikins to wear myself!” She did have a point. And besides, there was something I hadn’t told Katie quite yet: I actually had quite a fetish for wearing posing suits. Half of the reason why I wanted to get into bodybuilding was so I could put myself up on stage wearing only the skimpiest, tightest, shiniest most glute hugging swimsuits imaginable. And now that I had the body of my dreams, it certainly made sense to indulge myself in this respect as well. “You sure got me a good selection. Are they all custom made?” Katie nodded. “Here let’s hang them all up.” The entire closet was filled with a colourful array of tiny swimsuits, and our hotel room was permeated with that new lycra smell. “Since you can’t go out in public just yet, we better order you room service.” Katie dialled the front desk “yes, in room 1222 we need 9 orders of your 3 egg breakfast omelette please.” I couldn’t help but laugh, they probably thought we were an entire family! No, just one massive bodybuilder! We picked out my posing suit for the next day. It was shiny red lycra. It was what you would call a “Brazil cut” covering only about half of my glutes, with minimal coverage in the front and ½” sides. It was definitely the smallest suit I could wear while still remaining decent. The next morning I pulled on my posing trunks. Katie applied bikini bite glue to keep my package in the ludicrously small front, then there was a knock on the door. She had hired someone to come to our room to apply my pro tan. Our plan was to arrive at the competition minutes before I was set to go on stage so that I could really surprise the competitors and the crowd. I was transformed into a bronzed god with the pro tan, and then Katie performed one final oiling so that I shone brilliantly. I then put my sweat suit back on and we headed to the auditorium.
  22. 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/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13046-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-6/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13442-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-7/ Chapter 8: The Big Game The next morning my teammates and I awoke and made our way to the team's cafeteria for our typical pre-game breakfast. We noticed that strangely, most of the assistant coaches were not there enjoying breakfast with us. In fact, I saw a couple of assistants hustling quickly down the hallway as I walked into the cafeteria. I didn't think much of it, since, of course, this would be my first ever collegiate football game and being the first game of the season, I expected there to be some hectic surprises. The rest of the day the team hung out at the athletic center. As the game neared, I was becoming more and more nervous. Some of the upper-classmen noticed and did their best to give me pep talks and calm me down. Being just a freshmen, I appreciated the support, but it didn't calm my nerves much. Early in the afternoon we gathered in the players auditorium to run through our game plan with the assistant heat coach. Obviously, Coach Wood's massive leg wouldn't have fit in there, much less his entire impressive physique. Thus, Assistant Coach Harvey came in and led us through the game plan. At the end of the run through, Jamal asked. “Is Coach going to be on the sidelines with us?” Jamal and some others had also sensed some unease among the athletic staff throughout the day. Coach Harvey looked over the crowd of players, we could tell he was a little bit nervous, and spoke, “I'm positive he will be. I'll be frank with you all, The College Sports Association was offering some concerns about how to allow a man of Coach's size to be on the sidelines and it seems they attempted to force the school to disallow him to be on the sidelines.” A murmur wafted through the large crowd of amped-up young jocks. Coach Harvey quieted us and continued, “But, as our athletic staff has been researching, there's no rule against a giant man being on the sidelines so we don't see any reason why Coach won't be at the game. We are actively discussing with the Association and will confirm our stance with them. In the meantime, don't you worry about this matter. You young men have a huge opening game against our bitter rivals, the Monroe Mauraders. You focus on that, that's what Coach would want, got it!?” We all shook our heads and broke the meeting. After hanging out in the recreation room and eating another pregame meal fuel up, it was finally time to head to the locker rooms and get ready. The dozens of men around me began slipping into their pregame rituals. We had about 45 minutes before we had to be out on the field to warm up. Many of my now scantily clad teammates put in noise canceling headphones to zone out to their favorite warmup music. The jokesters of the group wandered around making fun to break the tension for those of us who were nervous. The Senior captains, clad only in football pants, their ripped upper torso's exposed, came around to quickly speak to each player and offer words of encouragement. The environment was brimming with amped-up testosterone waiting for competitive release on the gridiron. Soon we were suited up and ready to head out on the field. Assistant Coach Harvey came in to give us a little speech to pump us up some more. With and excited grin, he assured that our Giant Head Coach would be out there with us. This caused a raucous roar of approval from the team of young Brutes. Clad in our cleats, pants and undershirts, we each grabbed our shoulder pads and helmets and started for the exit of the locker room. The locker room wasn't directly connected to the stadium, we would have to cross a small, off-limits parking lot to enter the small stadium. The lot was specifically for the vising team busses, refs, and other College Sports Association (CSA) officials. As we headed for the door we felt a rumble on the ground. Jamal spoke up, “Awesome! The crowd must already be here, even for warmups! We don't usually feel the ground start to shake until the pregame show when the crowd is going nuts. Damn, I love our fans!” This further excited the rest of the team. We exited the door and began trotting down the soft carpet to the stadium entrance. We noticed it was a bright, beautiful, sunny, late summer day. I noticed we were bathed in shade, which was odd since there were no tall buildings or trees nearby. Then we heard some deep, deep rumblings that shook us to our core. I turned my head to my left, as did the rest of my team, and froze. My mouth hung open as I stared at the most magnificent, most awe-inspiring, yet terrifying sight I had ever seen. There, standing in the parking lot was Coach, clad in his normal outfit, sans shirt of course. Only he was bigger. Not just a little bigger. MUCH. MUCH. BIGGER. Whereas before the tallest members of our team reached the bottom of his tremendous diamond shaped calf muscles, now we didn't even clear the tops of his sneakers. The deep rumbling continued as we realized Coach was chuckling at us. The giant man leaned forward to address us. His upper torso was so muscular that he would have had to stand well back in order to see us over his monumental pecs without leaning forward. The monster muscle man opened his mouth and spoke. “HELLO DOWN THERE, BOYS. BOY, MY BIG STRONG BRUTE MEN SURE ARE LOOKING AWFULLY TINY LATELY! BUT DON'T WORRY, EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING LOOKS TINY TO ME LATELY, HEH HEH. WOW, YOU LITTLE GUYS DON'T BARELY REACH TO THE TOPS OF MY SNEAKERS, AND YOU ARE SOME OF THE BIGGEST MEN ON CAMPUS. YOU GUYS REALLY MAKE ME FEEL BIG!!!” Coach quickly stood straight up and reached HIGH into the sky. From our comparatively minuscule vantage point it looked like he could reach up and grab the sun. He then brought his arms down into a mind-blowing double-biceps pose. I'm sure the approaching fans got an amazing view. But, for us, he was so damn HUGE we could really only see the hulking triceps of his under arms, which were so pumped they hid his peaks from our eyes. He dropped the pose and again leaned forward, quickly adjusting his unavoidable bulge. “WHAT DO YOU THINK, BOYS? DO YOU THINK THERE WILL EVER BE A BRUTE AS HUGE AS ME!!” Myself and team began to overcome our natural fear and awe and happily shouted up our praise. A chorus of “No way, Coach!”, “You are the biggest Brute EVER!”, “A fuckin' MUSCLE GIANT!” and other similar platitudes emanated from my awestruck teammates. Coach grinned at us from far above. “SORRY I MISSED THE TEAM MEETINGS TODAY. I JUST COULDN'T FIT ALL THIS MASS IN THOSE TINY, ANT SIZED BUILDINGS.” He smirked down at us and continued, “YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED THE POWER WENT OUT LAST NIGHT. I WAS HEADED TO THE DEAN'S OFFICE WHEN I WALKED INTO SOME POWER LINES. DAMN THINGS ARE SO TINY TO ME DIDN'T EVEN SEE THEM AS MY LEGS CRASHED RIGHT INTO THEM. THE PHYSICS DOC SAID THE ENERGY WAS GREAT ENOUGH TO CAUSE ANOTHER GROWTH EPISODE. HE SAID I AGAIN DOUBLED IN HEIGHT! ISN'T THAT AWESOME, LITTLE MEN. YOUR COACH IS NOW A 100 FT COLOSSUS OF HUGE BODYBUILDER BEEF! GRRRRRRRR!!!” Coach growled and crunched into a most muscular pose above us, shielding us from the sun above and filling the entire team's vision with rippling, vascular, shredded, prodigious musculature. His growl was so ferociously loud we all shirked. Coach immediately noticed and quieted himself. “OOPS. SORRY LITTLE MEN. I'M SO HUGE THAT EVEN MY VOICE IS OVERPOWERING!” The players and myself began walking around Coach, examining his towering frame. Coach, pleased as peacock, simply stood still with his hands on his hips and with a bright handsome smile on his face as he looked down to us. We stood next to his sneakers, hardly able to comprehend the size of his footwear that were each the size of vans. We marveled that even at our highest reach our hands were far under the heavy sagging meat of his Fankhouser-esque calves. Jamal looked up and shouted up to our leader, “So glad you could be here, Coach. Coach Harvey said the CSA tried to keep you away.” Coach leered down to us with an ominous grin. “OH, THEY TRIED TO KEEP ME AWAY. A COUPLE OF GOVERNMENT GUYS CAME BY TOO AND TRIED TO GET ME TO GO WITH THEM. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? SOME TINY LITTLE "OFFICIAL" RUNTS TRYING TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO?” Coach leaned over, brought up his left arm and FLEXED his awe-inspiring biceps to full peak. Simultaneously, he reached over with his right arm and pointed at the boulder sized muscle. This time he angled himself forward so we could see the enormous mass bulge up from his arm. I remember how Coach had earlier said that he thought he was still growing slightly more muscular along with his sudden spurts of height and I could clearly see this in his arm. His astounding arm looked like it could've now been 26 or 27 inches around if he were at his previous mere moral height of six and a half feet. His biceps was so large that when he flexed, there was virtually no space between the mounded biceps muscle and thick elongated muscles of his forearm. “ALL I HAD TO DO WAS POINT AT THIS MUSCLE TO THEM KNOW WHO MAKES THE RULES. I TOLD THE LITTLE SHRIMPS THAT NO ONE IS GOING TO KEEP ME FROM COACHING MY BRUTES TO A VICTORY TODAY. AND THERE WAS NOTHING THEY COULD DO TO STOP ME. HELL, AT MY SIZE NO ONE COULD STOP ME FROM DOING ANYTHING IF I DON'T WANT THEM TO!” Coach sneered cockily as he relayed his story to us. It was impossible not to sense a bit of fear from his attitude. I imagined the CSA and government men pissing their pants as they tried in futility to tell the biggest, strongest, most powerful being on the planet what to do. Coach was an intimidating man at just 6 ft 6 inches tall. At 100 ft, that intimidation factor was magnified exponentially. Coach, sensing our unease, softened his expression. “SORRY IF I SCARED 'YA, LITTLE MEN. IT'S JUST THE THOUGHT OF NOT BEING ABLE TO COACH YOU MAKES ME VERY ANGRY.” Coach snickered and repeated that famous line from the Hulk franchise, “AND YOU WOULDN'T LIKE ME WHEN I'M ANGRY!” Coach then looked over his shoulder down at the parking lot. I wondered what he was searching for when I saw it. A small white sedan with the “CSA” logo painted on the side. Obviously the car used by the CSA officials to oversee the game. “THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THEY MAKE ME ANGRY!!” Coach raised his huge left foot, the fibers of his exposed quads firing as he moved. He was so large that he just had to lean over a bit to his left where he let his colossal sneaker SMASH down on top of he doomed car. In a millisecond the car was flattened beyond recognition. Unlike when Coach slowly caved in the news van from a couple of days ago, with his newly doubled size his massive shoe completely covered and obliterated the small car. We all jumped back from the sudden show of power. After a couple of seconds of stunned silence, my teammates began to shout more cheers and praise up at him. “Damn, Coach Brute! That was awesome!” “Yeah, Coach, show them CSA pussies who is in charge!” “Man I'm sure glad you are our Coach! You are like a god to the little people!” “Haha you made smashing that car look easy! You are so fuckin' powerful!” “Nobody tells you what to you, BIG COACH BRUTE! Especially not those tiny government boys!” Coach beamed with pride as he heard us, feeding his ever growing, yet deserved ego. Even with the frightening display of masculine power we just witnessed, we knew it had only been brought out because some foolish officials were trying to keep him from coaching us today. With a 100 ft tall overdeveloped herculean man watching over us, nothing could take us out! “WELL BOYS, IT'S TIME YOU HEAD INSIDE THE STADIUM TO WARM UP. BECAUSE I'M SO DAMN HUGE AND MUSCULAR, I'M GOING TO STAND OUT HERE TO COACH. OTHERWISE, WITH MY HUGE LATS, HALF THE STADIUM BEHIND ME WOULDN'T GET TO SEE YOU GUYS KICK SOME ASS.” Coach punctuated this statement with a titanic lat spread. The wing-like lats under his arms spread out to what looked like 25 yards across...then 30...then 35!! Coach's lats were so magnificently built, that when it looked like he couldn't get any wider, his enormous back muscles unfurled even further. The v-shape he demonstrated as he expertly flexed was nearly incomprehensible, seemingly extending his upper torso to three times the width of his chiseled abdominals. Coach chuckled some more as we stared up at him, again in awestruck silence. He broke the pose, allowing our brains to regain function. “YOU BOYS KEEP STARING AT ME LIKE THAT AND IT'S GOING TO GIVE ME A BIG HEAD, HAHA. NOW GET OUT THERE AND GET WARMED UP! GO!” His sudden demand caused us all to hustle onto the field. As we entered the field it became clear that Jamal was right about one thing. Many of our fans had showed up early and even with 45 minutes to kickoff the stadium was about 75% full. The crowd cheered us on as we entered the field, but as soon as the cheering died down I noticed that all the spectators had turned their heads toward the South end of the stadium. The South end was adjacent to the maintenance parking lot and at only about 30 ft tall, was the lowest part of the stadium. Thus, everyone could see the magnificent bare-chested giant bodybuilder standing behind there behind. He clapped as we entered, each time his hands connected it sounded like a large firecracker exploding. After Coach's news conference it became clear that so many people arrived early so they see the largest man in history with their own eyes. A few minutes later the visiting team entered from the opposite end of the stadium. I chuckled as the entire visiting froze as soon as they caught sight of our coach. Once they had got their wits back, they filed onto the field and stretch as well. The visiting Marauder's head coach, Thomas Morton, a well-known portly man who was known for his bombastic attitude and arrogant demeanor, trotted out onto the field and too became paralyzed with awe. Coach, with his hands on his hips in a powerful stance, quickly spotted the overweight opposing coach at the other end of the field. “COACH MORTON! WELCOME TO OUR STADIUM. I'M EXCITED FOR A GOOD GAME BETWEEN OUR SQUADS. BUT I MUST SAY, COACH MORTON, YOU'VE REALLY LET YOURSELF GO! HOW CAN YOU BE AN INSPIRATION TO YOUR PLAYERS TO GET BIGGER AND STRONGER WHILE LOOKING LIKE THAT? ONE THE OTHER HAND...” Coach spread his arms out wide and looked cockily down at his own torso. He alternately turned each arm, admiring the size of the unflexed muscles covering each appendage. He bent down and felt up the massive individual muscles of his quadriceps and then looked back at Coach Morton, “...ON THE OTHER HAND, MY BOYS SEEING ALL THESE HUGE MUSCLES OF MINE EVERYDAY ONLY INSPIRES THEM TO LIFT HARDER AND GET BIGGER AND STRONGER THEMSELVES!” Coach Morton had never felt so emasculated in his life. He just stood there, frozen, looking like a man whose entire dignity had been stripped away. He lowered his head and headed over to his sideline, looking defeated before the game even began. Something Coach obviously saw as he continued to address Coach Morton. “AND DON'T THINK I DIDN'T SEE THAT PRESS CONFERENCE YOU GAVE LAST WEEK. HOW YOU SAID YOUR TEAM WAS GOING TO CRUSH OUR TEAM. HOW YOU WOULD SHOW NO MERCY AND HAVE NO HARD FEELINGS ABOUT RUNNING UP THE SCORE! HOW ABOUT I SHOW YOU WHAT A REAL 'CRUSHING' WILL LOOK LIKE!” Coach looked down and to his right and reached down with both hands and picked something up. As he rose it became clear that he was holding each end of Morton's bus. In his hands it was no bigger than a loaf of bread. And with no more strength than a normal man would required to squeeze that loaf of bread, our giant coach bared his teeth and CRUSHED the ends of the bus together like an accordion. The windows shattered and fell to the parking lot. Loud distinct pops could be heard as the tires blew. The high pitched squeal of twisting metal pierced the air. “THIS IS WHAT REAL CRUSHING IS. AND YOU WILL NEVER KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE THIS POWERFUL. IF YOU ARE GOING TO USE BIG THREATENING WORDS, PERHAPS YOU SHOULD HAVE THE MUSCLE TO BACK IT UP! HAHAHA!” Coached laughed and let the crumpled-up mass of metals crash to the parking bellow. Coach Morton gulped in fear at what he had just seen. “OH, AND COACH MORTON, I CAN TELL YOU AND YOUR BOYS ARE SCARED OF ME AND TO PLAY AGAINST MY MEN. MAYBE EVEN SO SCARED THAT YOU ARE AFRAID TO WANT TO BEAT MY TEAM. WELL, THAT IS EVEN IF YOU COULD BEAT MY TEAM. IT'S UNDERSTANDABLE, I'M A REALLY, REALLY BIG STRONG MAN. BUT TRUST ME, IF YOU GUYS SLOW PLAY THIS GAME AND DON'T TRY YOUR HARDEST, THEN I ASSURE YOU I WILL BE VERY, VERY ANGRY. I WANT TO SEE A GOOD COMPETITIVE GAME, FULL OF EFFORT FROM BOTH SIDES, GOT IT?” Coach finished his statement by ominously cracking his knuckles. Ever the sportsman, he did not want us to win simply due to the other team's fear of his imposing body. He wanted us to EARN the win against a worthy opponent. I shuddered to think what would happen if the other team just flat out gave up and didn't give us any fight. Coach Morton dramatically shook his head up and down, notifying our Coach of his understanding that he wouldn't hold his team back. Forty minutes later the game began. Obviously, our head Coach couldn't perform all the duties typical of a mortal-sized coach so Assistant Coach Harvey took over for that. Still, as we had many hand signals, he was able to communicate sufficiently with us what he wanted on defense. For the first half the game was relatively tight. We never led by more than 10 points and after a successful long touchdown pass, we went into halftime with a three point lead. I could easily tell why the other team was one of the top in the nation. They were very good, very big and very strong. Not to mention the fear of invoking OUR Coach's wrath likely had them playing harder than they ever had. The giant man behind the South stadium provided us with excellent calls, motivation and inspiration. There was nothing like seeing his huge jacked body and handsome smile beaming proudly down at us after we made a good play. While the visiting Morton team was good, they were still no match or our own superior skill, size and strength and we began to slowly overpower them. Early in the 4th quarter we were nursing a seven point lead. The Marauders had the ball and were driving the field against us with some trick plays that caught us off guard. They were only 15 yards away from the North end zone. Before the next play, I looked up to see Coach signaling an outside blitz from me and I relayed the play to the rest of our team. The Marauders snapped the ball and I broke and made a beeline to their QB. As I closed in on him, I could see the surprise in his eyes. I saw him cock back his arm and start to lob the ball over my head for a screen pass. In a flash I read the play and leaped straight up as high as I could. I saw the ball just above my head, reached up and snagged it out of the air. INTERCEPTION! I landed and took off sprinting towards the opposite South end zone. As I ran as fast as I could, I saw Coach waving his beefy arms to me in a “come here” motion. I had never seen him look so excited before. I made it to the 50 yard line, then the 40, then the 30, I could feel the defenders on my heels. As I kept running Coach started JUMPING UP and down! I could feel the tremors rumbling the ground as his muscular tonnage pounded the ground. His massive pectorals bounced hypnotically as he himself bounced on the ground. The tremors were strong enough I almost tripped up! But I kept my balance and finally made it the the end zone! It was an 85-yard, pick-six interception! In my first collegiate game! I was so excited as my teammates caught up and mobbed me from behind that I barely noticed how winded I was from sprinting 85 yards. As the team cleared away I looked skyward to see Coach beaming proudly at me. Remembering that day in the weight room, I smiled up to him and gave him my most imposing most muscular pose, clenching my fists together in front of my waist. His grin widened more and he laughed. He then smirked, hunched over and returned his own far more impressive most muscular pose with a cocky smile. The crowd went wild, not only from my touchdown, but from seeing Coach FLEX his titanic muscles. In one play, I had turned the game from a tight contest into a dominating win for us. I had never felt so proud of myself in my life. With the momentum on our side, we dominated the rest of the game and ended up winning by three touchdowns. As the teams left the field, Coach addressed Coach Morton. “GOOD GAME COACH. WE'LL SEE YOU AGAIN NEXT YEAR. OH YEAH, REMEMBER WHAT I SAID, YOU WOULD REALLY SHOULD GET YOURSELF INTO THE WEIGHT ROOM IF YOU WANT TO COMPETE WITH THE LIKES OF THIS! HAHAH!” Coach laughed as he flashed the opposing coach a quick double biceps pose. As we exited the stadium we gathered around Coach's shoes. I noticed the car sized lump of twisted metal that was formerly the Morton passenger bus nearby and could hardly comprehend the power it would take to do that. Coach grinned down at us. “YOU LITTLE BRUTES SURE MADE THIS BIG BRUTE VERY PROUD TODAY. THAT WAS A CHAMPIONSHIP EFFORT. NOW, THERE ARE STILL 11 MORE GAMES IN THE SEASON SO DON'T THINK YOUR WORK IS DONE. YOU ALL NEED TO KEEP PRACTICING HARD AND LIFTING HARD AND IF YOU DO YOU HAVE A GREAT SHOT TO MAKE IT TO THE CHAMPIONSHIP COME DECEMBER. NOW HIT THE SHOWERS. AND CAPTAINS, OLDEST TO YOUNGEST, MEET ME EVERY 15 MINUTES IN THE FIELD HOUSE FOR A POST-GAME DEBRIEFING STARTING ONE HOUR FROM NOW.” After showering up and enjoying a nice post game meal, I soon headed over to the field house. The sophomore captain was just exiting as I entered the building. I walked in and there was Coach, standing up, the top of his cap dangerously close to the rafters of the field house, filling my view with fuzzy, rippling, golden MUSCLE. “THERE'S MY STAR OF THE GAME!” He said excitedly as I entered, filling my heart with pride. “GREAT GAME, JACKSON. THAT LONG PICK-SIX BASICALLY SEALED THE GAME FOR US. I BELIEVE YOU ARE A STAR IN THE MAKING, YOUR READ THAT SCREEN PASS BEAUTIFULLY, JUMPED UP AND SNAGGED THE BALL AND RACED BACK TOWARD ME...MAN THAT AWESOME.” “I owe it all to you, Coach! You called that blitz for me, it was the perfect call! That QB never saw me coming!” “I GUESS WE MAKE QUITE THE TEAM, YOU AND I, MY LITTLE BRUTE!” “Yes we do, my BIG COACH BRUTE!” I lowered my voice and shouted, trying to sound big, Coach chuckled at my playfulness. Coach then slowly crouched and sat down on his big bulbous ass. He put his arms beside him, palms flat on the turf, triceps flaring, and stuck his LONG legs straight out, straddling me. On each side of me were the world's biggest and most muscular thighs and in front of me was the worlds most packed crotch, trapping me in a virtual cocoon of manhood. Even with him sitting slowly, a big tremor rumbled through the ground as his hulking tonnage rested on the field turf. “THERE, MUCH BETTER. YOU LITTLE GUYS ARE BASICALLY SHRINKING TO ME. I DON'T MIND STANDING UP AND TOWERING OVER THE OTHER PEOPLE, IT REMINDS HOW HUGE AND POWERFUL I AM. BUT I DON'T LIKE INTIMIDATING MY OWN LITTLE BRUTES, HEHE.” “It's ok Coach, you really can't help it! Haha, even with you sitting there your head is FIVE stories above mine. I could practically HIDE under your pecs even with you leaning back. Your massive quads are so huge I would need a rope to scale them, it's like I'm flanked by two massive, golden tanned beefy walls of POWER. And your crotch...Coach, your shorts are looking tighter and tighter!” Coach smirked with satisfaction as I praised him. “HEH HEH. JACKSON, YOU SURE KNOW HOW TO MAKE THIS BIG BRUTE FEEL GOOD. REALLLLLL GOOD...” Coach leaned forward and brought one hand forward and began to palm his crotch in front of me. “AND YOU ARE RIGHT. LIKE I SAID, ALONG WITH MY HEIGHT SPURTS, I SEEM TO BE SLOWLY GETTING BIGGER AND MORE MUSCULAR...” He smirked down into my eyes and added, “...AND MORE HUNG!” By now I was rock hard as well, watching the monster in Coach's packed shorts grow. “Wow, Coach I can see that. OH MY GOD COACH!” I shouted in surprise and his monster dick began to extend out PAST the leg of his khaki shorts, pressed up tight against his left inner-thigh. “YEAH, LITTLE GUY. LOOK AT THAT. THAT IS A REAL COCK RIGHT THERE.” In complete shock and awe, I could only nod in agreement. “JACKSON, I HAVEN'T TOLD ANYBODY ELSE YET, BUT I HAVE AGREED TO LET THOSE GOVERNMENT BOYS RUN SOME TESTS ON ME. THAT MEANS I WON'T BE HERE FOR PRACTICE FOR THE NEXT FEW DAYS.” My face fell as I looked up him disappointingly. “I KNOW, I KNOW. AND I KNOW I TELL YOU BOYS TO NEVER TAKE ANY GAME LIGHTLY, BUT YOUR NEXT GAME IS AGAINST A TEAM THAT WAS WINLESS LAST YEAR, SO I HAVE COMPLETE CONFIDENCE IN COACH HARVEY TO LEAD THE TEAM.” Coach's face turned stern, “AND TRUST ME, THERE IS NO WAY I'M GOING TO LET THEM KEEP ME AWAY FROM YOU GUYS FOR TOO LONG. IF THEY DO...THEY WILL REGRET IT.” Coach was so huge that it was easy to see all his muscles and tendons tighten and flex defensively, all his massive firehose-sized veins erupt as he considered what he would do if anyone tried to keep him away from us. “NOW, BEFORE I TAKE OFF TOMORROW...” Coach reached down his huge hand and began rubbing the now exposed cock head, “HOW ABOUT YOU JOIN ME IN ONE LAST BRUTE JACKING SESSION?” He grinned at me seductively, there was no way I could resist. I striped off my clothes and stood there naked and rock hard in between the giant man's legs. “OH YEAH, LOOK AT THE HOT JOCK STUD BODY. YOU LOOK SO GOOD, LITTLE BRUTE.” Coach's dick began to thicken and lengthen even more! Quickly I heard the unmistakable sounds of ripping. His cock was so huge and powerful, not to mention his now proportionally larger glutes and legs, that his khaki shorts could take to no more and began to tear at the inseam! Coach reached down, lifted his ass slightly off the turn and proceeded to finish TEARING his shorts off with a ear-piercing RRRRIIIIIPPPPPPP. He wasn't wearing underwear, and his rock hard cock sprang up like a trebuchet, thwacking his abdomen well above his navel. “AHHHH THAT FEELS SOOOOO MUCH BETTER. I OUTGREW MY UNDERWEAR A COUPLE OF DAYS AGO, IT'S NICE TO BE FREE OF THE LAST RESTRICTIVE PIECE OF CLOTHING! LET ME FINISH UNDRESSING LITTLE BUDDY!” Coach leaned way forward over me reaching his long arms behind me. He lightly bent his legs, reached forward and slipped off his shoes and socks. A warm smell of musky, jock feet crossed my nose. But it wasn't rank, just another pungent smell of ultimate masculinity. I looked straight up and saw each car-sized abdominal muscle hovering 30 feet above me. The valleys in between each ab was so deep they could've served as small canals. Coach leaned back and began to take off his hat and whistle. “Coach, wait!” I shouted. “Um...would...would yo mind leaving the hat and whistle on?” You look like such a huge jock muscle stud with them on!” Coach chuckled deeply. “YOU GOT IT, LITTLE MAN. TELL YOU WHAT, SINCE YOU WERE THE STAR OF THE GAME, WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO?” He asked with a smirk. I thought about it for a few exciting seconds. The possibilities I could dream up with him seemed endless. “Um, would you mind setting me on your belly, and then laying down with your hands clasped behind your head? I just want to explore your giant body, Coach!” “MMMMM JACKSON, I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK.” He slowly reached forward and gently lifted me up with his incredible hands. Each finger was a long as I was. For a second I was worried he would accidentally crush me, no doubt he possessed the power to do so. But, he proved to be perfectly gentle, lifting me up with and depositing me on his titanic stomach, right now to the mushroom head of his monster cock. The massive beast had to be 15 feet long now and over four feet in diameter. He smiled as he leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head with a happy smile. His chest pulled up and his massive lats flared out, exposing his DEEP hairy armpits, again sending my sense of smell into overdrive as his sweaty musk permeated the air. Wow. Standing on his abs, I looked left, then right. There was SOOOO much super-developed man flesh spread out in front of me. I noted how his elbows were out so wide they were nearly brushing each side wall of the field house. I began to walk forward, noting the taught hard skin and enormou lumps of abs. I layed down on top of the upper most right side ab and just felt the hard, warm mass underneath me. I couldn't help it as I ground my hard cock into the taught, tough skin. “MMM EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE SO TINY I CAN FEEL THAT, JACKSON. FEELS GOOD.” I got back up and walk up to the shelf of his pecs. I traipsed over to his right nipple, the size of a beach ball and began to knead and punch it. Suddenly the ground below began to tremble. “OH DAMN, JACKSON, FUCK! MY NIPPLES ARE SO SENSITIVE. YOU'RE MAKING ME LEAK!” I glanced being me and sure enough, the huge cock head was dripping pre into a kiddle-pool sized puddle on his abs. After playing with his nipple I climbed up onto his pecs, now allowing me to see Coach's handsome face with his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of a tiny man exploring him. “Wow, Coach, your pectorals are so massive I could build a house on each one! I can see each sinewy fiber under your tanned skin. Your chest hair is so soft, it's like walking through a wheat field. No one on earth has BIGGER or MORE MAGNIFICENT pecs than, you do, Coach!” I feel the ground rumble underneath me as he moaned deeply from his sternum. I made my way over to his right armpit. I had to step down of his huge pecs. Luckily, his lats were so huge they gave me more than enough shelf to safely walk on. I spread my arms out and let my entire body fall into the warm musky pit. His pit hairs were so soft and comfortable. I ground my face into this pit and again felt Coach moan from pleasure. I saw a shadow cross over me and noticed he had release his left harm from behind his head to reach down and rub his pipeline sized cock. After servicing his pit I climbed back out and up onto his arm. For a muscle lover there was just no way I couldn't explore that arm. The massive ball of biceps and huge meaty triceps. I simply layed down in the relativity small divot between the biceps and triceps on the side of his arm and marvelled at the muscles flanking each side of me. “Coach, no man on earth has biceps like you. There have been proportionally bigger arms in history, but those arms were bolstered by layers and layers of fat. There may have been more ripped biceps in history, but they belonged to skinny little weak men who had zero fat. But no man has the ultimate combination of ripped AND huge, freaky, massive peaked biceps, and feathered triceps like you do. These are the best arms in HISTORY!” Coach growled and the FLEXED his right arm with loud GROWL. The arm underneath me expanded, the skin underneath my body pulled tighter in each direction as it struggled to contain the growing muscle. I watch as his already mounded biceps began to push higher...and higher! At my tiny size the split in his peaks was big enough to rest my leg inside! “FUCKKKK YEAH JACKSON. LOOK AT THOSE COLLOSAL ARMS. ARMS SO HUGE THAT YOU TINY MEN COULD LIVE IN THEM. ARMS THAT COULD CURL AN AIRCRAFT CARRIER! BICEPS SO MASSIVE AND HARD THAT A WRECKING BALL WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO DENT THEM!” Coached moaned some more and jacked his cock with more fervor. I followed his lead and did the same. “UHHHH JACKSON, LET'S DO THIS. NOW YOU DO ME A FAVOR. STAND UP ON MY CHEST, RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME WHERE I CAN SEE YOU, AND GIVE THAT MOST MUSCULAR POSE LIKE YOU DID AT THE GAME!” I walk over and stood on his right pec facing him. His left pec was bunching and and bouncing like crazy as he used his left arm to masturbate. He tilted his handsome face up and opened his deep blue eyes to see me standing on his pec, rising and falling as he took deep breaths. I kept my stance wide to maintain balance. As soon as his eyed made contact with mine, I smirked cockily, back at him. “A most muscular pose, Coach. Like you taught me?” I teased. Coach moaned and jacked harder. I then crouched forward and FLEXED my abs, arms, traps, pecs and legs as hard as I could and GROWLED as loud as tiny man could. “GGGGRRAHHHH COACH! LOOK AT MY MUSCLES THAT YOU HELPED BUILD!” Coach's face scrunched as the loudest moan I had ever heard erupted from his gaping maw. Suddenly I felt a huge stream of wetness fall across my shoulders and back. Coach's massive dick was EXPLODING WITH ORGASM, coating me in his seed. I quickly brought my own hands down and jacked my own rock-hard tumescence, seeing and feeling jet after jet of white Coach jizz shower me and the massive chest surrounding me. I screamed and let out my own powerful orgasm, coating the square footage of his hairy muscle chest in front of me. As I finished, I fell to my knees, and then laid down on the wet, hairy expanse of pectoral in front of me, exhausted. Coach let his arms fall to the side and I fell myself rise as his pecs consequently plumped underneath me from the motion. “DAMN, JACKSON. THAT WAS THE BEST ONE YET. THERE IS NO WAY I'M LETTING THOSE GOVERNMENT BOYS KEEP ME AWAY FROM YOU!” He rumbled, chuckling. “DAMN, NOW I HAVE EVEN MORE OF A MESS TO CLEAN UP!” He joked and as I stood up and laughed with him. Epilogue: Coach did indeed return next week right before the game. Our team dominated the rest of the season and coach was at every game. In December, we brought home the school's very first national championship. There were challenges with a 100 ft Coach, especially for away games, but like any challenge facing him, he met it head on along with the rest of us and came away with full success. Coach, of course, became a national celebrity, using his size to help out wherever he could. Whether it be assisting the fireman or police in rescue missions, cleaning up verhicle accidents or his favorite, helping the city demolish condemned or unwanted buildings. An activity where we really got to show off his size and power to his adoring fans. The university supplied him with sustenance and clothes, although he rarely wore a shirt. His huge body was like a human radiator and even in winter he only required a light tank top to keep warm. The university constructed some living quarters for him off campus in the form of a handful of aircraft hanger size buildings, furnished of course. Along with a massive heated swimming pool to allow him to wash off. Of course, I continued to see Coach during “captain's meetings” throughout the year. Coach had promised that he would stick around to coach the team for at least the next three years, through the end of my playing career before he would decide what the future held for him. Even without being able to properly workout with weight, Coach continued to slowly grow in musculature, aided by his nearly naked body constantly absorbing energy from the sun and his daily workouts consisting of various body weight movements. The only question that remained, was Coach truly done growing, or was there a power source out there strong enough to cause another doubling of his size? Only the future could tell.
  23. 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/ https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13046-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-6/ Chapter 7: Captain The next day, Friday, was our last day of preparation before the big game tomorrow. In order to allow our bodies to heal and rest up from the hard week of practices, the pre-game practice was more of a walkthrough in just our shorts, t-shirts and helmets. Coach towered over us all at center field, shirtless, explaining our game plan on offense and defense. His exposed torso was a point which Jamal, the big playful lineman, couldn't ignore. “Yo Coach, where is your tank top from yesterday? Or are you just trying to impress us with your jacked muscles?” A deep, rumbling chuckle could be felt in all our chests. “WELL JAMAL, IS IT WORKING?” Coach lifted up his left arm and clenched his fist, flexing his titanic biceps far above our heads and exposing his cave-like armpit. Whistles, hoots and appreciative hollers were voiced up toward the giant posing man. “HAHA, BOYS. JUST DIDN'T WANT TO GET ONE OF MY FEW SHIRTS SWEATY. A BIG MAN LIKE ME ONLY HAS SO MANY CLOTHES.” I noted that Coach's bare skin seemed even a slight shade darker than yesterday, as if the energy he was absorbing was not only making him bigger, but perfecting him in other ways too, giving his skin a deep bronzed glow underneath the light covering of body hair. Jamal shook his head and added, “Damn, Coach, I swear you are looking more swole than ever!” Coach grinned as he flexed and unflexed his cannon, pumping it up bigger. “I KNOW MY BODY, JAMAL, AND I AM DEFINITELY MORE “SWOLE” AS YOU KIDS SAY. IF I WAS STILL MY OLD SMALL, ORIGINAL HEIGHT, I'D VENTURE A GUESS THAT I'VE PUT ON AT LEAST A SOLID INCH ON MY ALREADY AWESOME ARMS. I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF THE ENERGY FLOWING THROUGH ME, MAKING ME BIGGER AND STRONGER! I LOVE IT!” After Coach's self appraising speech, we ran through a few plays at half speed to make sure we were all on the same page. After a short 45 minute practice session we gathered literally at the feet of Coach for one final practice speech. As part of the speech, he also discussed the captains. Yesterday during film we all voted for two captains. Coach revealed proudly that, unsurprisingly, our starting senior quarterback and senior all-American linebacker were two of the captains as voted on by the rest of the team. We clapped for our team leaders as they stepped up in front of coach's massive sneakers and he commended them. As we stared up at his heaving pectorals, Coach then announced the additional three captains as chosen by the coaching staff. We applauded as he called up the Junior starting center and our up-and-coming star Sophomore defensive lineman. Coach then finished, “AND MY FELLOW BRUTES, CONGRATULATIONS TO TOMORROW'S STARTING SAFETY AND CAPTAIN, FRESHMAN MASON JACKSON!” My eyes went wide as I heard my name and saw my leader's gigantic, handsome eyes boring into mine, his face with a proud smile. The rest of the team hooted and hollered, those close to me patting my back as I made my way up to the front with the other captains. I was stunned and speechless. Here I was, being named not only a starter, but as a team captain, and I was only a Freshman. “BRUTES, THESE FINE MEN WILL BE YOUR ON-FIELD CAPTAINS. ONLY THEY ARE ALLOWED TO ADDRESS THE REFS ON THE FIELD. THEY WILL BE YOUR LEADERS ON THE FIELD, LISTEN TO THEM. AND CAPTAINS, MYSELF AND THE OTHER COACHES DO NOT TAKE LIGHTLY IN SELECTING YOU. YOU HAVE EARNED THE “C” ON YOUR JERSEYS, DO NOT LET US DOWN. NOW, THE REST OF YOU HIT THE SHOWERS AND THEN MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE FILM ROOM. OBVIOUSLY I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO JOIN AS I'M TOO BIG TO FIT IN THE FILM ROOM, BUT THE ASSISTANTS WILL TAKE YOU THROUGH THE SESSION. CAPTAINS, STICK AROUND, I WANT TO GO THROUGH A COUPLE MORE THINGS WITH YOU BEFORE YOU SHOWER UP.” After the rest of the team left the field, Coach got down on the one knee in an attempt to get closer to us and together we walked through the duties of the captains, including what we would need to do during the coin toss tomorrow. We discussed several scenarios, whether to defer or take the ball, which side of the field to choose, how to consider the wind and weather, etc. Coach then instructed each of us to visit with him one-on-one early this evening. He wanted to speak with each of his captains individually to further go over each of our respective responsibilities. Since I was the youngest captain, I would be the last to visit him at about 8:00pm tonight. Coach rose up off his knee to his full height, his abs and pecs rising like a hot air balloon above our heads, and dismissed us to shower. “THANK YOU MY BRUTE CAPTAINS. NOW GET READY FOR FILM SESSION AND PAY ATTENTION. YOU ARE THE NEXT IN THE CHAIN OF COMMAND AFTER THE ASSISTANT COACHES, SO ITS ALSO YOUR RESPONSIBILITY TO KEEP YOUR TEAMMATES IN CHECK AS WELL. I'M COUNTING YOU MEN. HIT THE SHOWERS!” Once cleaned up we joined our teammates and the assistants to watch film. The assistants also ran through tomorrow's agenda. Even though the game wasn't until 7:00pm tomorrow night, we were instructed to be at the athletic complex early in the morning for breakfast and we would remain there, isolated for the entire day to avoid distractions. After film I had one Friday afternoon class before I headed to the cafeteria to fuel up. I caught up on some studying until it was 7:45pm, when it was time to head to the field house for my meeting with Coach. As I was walking through the corridor to the field house I passed the starting quarterback. I was right on time. I opened the door and was again instantly overtaken by Coach's superhuman scent, causing my cock to twitch. Coach was sitting on his bench, shirtless with just a sheet wrapped around his waist, his head still a good 30 or so feet above the ground when he spotted me. “JACKSON! WELCOME MY LITTLE BRUTE CAPTAIN!” Coach shifted his butt down onto the turf to speak to me from a more equal level. “Thanks Coach. I'm honored and so surprised. I...I don't know what to say. I mean, I thought there would be several other guys who are better than me-” Coach cut me off, “DON'T YOU START DOUBTING YOURSELF, JACKSON. YOU EARNED YOUR CAPTAIN'S STATUS. THERE ARE OTHER MEN ON THE TEAM WHO MAY BE BETTER ATHLETES THAN YOU, BUT NONE OF THEM HAVE YOUR COMBINATION OF INTELLIGENCE TO GO WITH YOUR ATHLETICISM. YOU NEED BOTH BRAINS AND BRAWN TO SUCCEED AT THIS LEVEL AND YOU HAVE IT. YOU'VE BEEN WORKING YOUR TAIL OFF SINCE YOU GOT HERE.” Coach and I spent the next few minutes discussing what he expected of me as a captain. How he wanted me to be a leader on the field and speak up and make decisions for my teammates, even though I was younger than three-quarters of the team. How I would be one of the players who is allowed to speak the referees when a penalty occurs. It seemed like such a huge responsibility but with Coach encouraging me I had never been so excited to tackle a new task. “YOU HAVE A BRIGHT FUTURE. YOUR GROWTH SINCE I RECRUITED YOU HAS BEEN WONDERFUL TO WATCH, JACKSON. AND NOT JUST YOUR FOOTBALL SAVY, I'VE ALSO NOTICED THE MUSCLE YOU'VE PUT ON. HOW MUCH WEIGHT HAVE YOU GAINED SINCE THE BEGINNING OF THE SUMMER?” I smiled up at Coach, happy that he was seeing what I was also seeing in the mirror. “So far about 15 pounds!” “THOSE ARE SOME GREAT GAINS FOR A MAN YOUR SIZE. I CAN DEFINITELY SEE IT. AND I CAN SEE IT IS ALL MUSCLE. YOU'RE SHREDDED, AND SEEING YOUR ABS MAKES ME FEEL LIKE A FAT MAN!” We shared a laugh as Coach patted his mighty stomach. While my abs were small yet deeply etched, his were huge and powerful, like the rest of him. “Thanks Coach. Although my gains are nothing compared to yours in the past week!” “HAHA, I GUESS THAT'S TRUE JACKSON. I'VE HAD A BIT OF HELP TOO, BUT I'M NOT COMPLAINING!” Coach said as he looked down and bounced his pectorals, one by one. “Damn, Coach, your muscle control is insane!” “THANKS JACKSON. I'M SURE WITH YOUR GROWING BODY YOU ARE LEARNING TO DO FUN TRICKS LIKE THAT TOO. AND TRUST ME, THE LADIES LOVE IT!” Coach smirked wryly at me and added, “AND SO DO THE DUDES.” I grinned up at Coach and caught a sparkle in his eye. He then requested, “WELL JACKSON, STRIP OFF THAT TANK TOP. SHOW ME YOUR PROGRESS. YOU'VE SEEN MY BOD, LET'S SEE YOUR MUSCLES. SHOW ME A DOUBLE-BICEPS POSE.” I obeyed and whipped off my tank top and tossed it on the ground. Coach was still sitting on the ground with his back against his bench. He legs were splayed wide on each side of me as he watched me intently. I brought my arms out wide and slowly raised my fists upward and toward my head, flexing my biceps. “VERY NICE JACKSON. YOU HAVE SOME NICE PEAKS. GREAT SEPARATIONS. LET'S SEE YOUR CHEST.” I turned sideways and tried to mimic Coach's side chest flexes. “AGAIN, YOUR DEVELOPMENT IS GREAT FOR YOUR SIZE. NOW SHOW ME YOUR BACK.” I turned around and again brought up both biceps and gave Coach my best back-double biceps pose. “A NICE WIDE BACK TO GO WITH YOUR TINY WAIST. TREMENDOUS V-SHAPE. YOU'VE GOT A FRAME THAT COULD EASILY PUT ON PLENTY OF MUSCLE.” I turned around and beamed. “Thanks, Coach! Your weight training program has really helped. And you are such an inspiration, seeing your big bulging body every day.” I grinned and brought my arms up into another double-biceps flex and playfully crowed at Coach. “I would love to be a bodybuilder like you some day!” Coach chuckled and started to stand up. As he rose from the ground he grinned, “JACKSON. YOU ARE LOOKING GOOD AND YOU CERTAINLY GOT THE GENES. YOUR POSING NEEDS SOME WORK THOUGH. HERE, LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT A REAL POSING ROUTINE LOOKS LIKE!” I gasped at the what I was about to see. Coach slowly stood, reaching the pinnacle of his towering height, with me standing awestruck on the ground about 15 feet in front of his ankles. “THIS IS HOW YOU DO A PROPER DOUBLE-BICEPS POSE, LITTLE MAN.” Coach re-planted his feet so they were slowly pointed outward. This caused his mega-sized quad muscles to bulge even larger. He clenched his stomach muscles before he gracefully swayed both his arms out wide and up, where he paused for just a second, before locking the position of his elbows and then swinging his forearms upward while making a fist. Each of his biceps erupted from his arms. “POSING IS ALL ABOUT FORM AND GRACE,” he narrated as he unclenched and reclenched his fists, causing the wrecking ball size biceps muscles to rise and fall hypnotically. Coach then synchronously brought both arms down while rotating 90 degrees. He did so with the fluid motion of a ballet dancer. It was a side of Coach I had never seen. Not only was he immensely powerful, when he wanted to he could move with a beauty and grace that belied his rugged, supremely pumped body. He brought one arm to the side and while smiling down at me, puffed up his pecs and performed a perfect side chest pose. Even he was impressed with how we was looking, “WOW, JACKSON, YOU COULD PRACTICALLY BUILD A HOUSE ON THAT PEC SHELF, DON'T YOU THINK?” I nodded, dumbfounded at what I was having the pleasure of seeing. Coach then swung his arms out wide again and using their momentum to turn another 90 degrees to show me his back, which was loaded with mounds and mounds of thick, lenticular muscles. As I stared up 30 ft into the air I was greeted by the sight of Coach's two, thick erector muscle columns, no doubt overly developed from years of massive deadlifts. As my eyes drifted higher my own eyes had to refocus into wide angle lenses as his tanned, hairless lats suddenly jutted outward, even without flexing. Coach then reached both hands back and placed his fists near the top of his waist. As he faced away from me I heard, “IF YOU WANT TO WATCH A MOVIE SOMETIME, JACKSON, I KNOW WHERE YOU CAN FIND A WIDE SCREEN! HAHA!” As Coach joked he slowly unfurled his incredible lat muscles. Throwing his elbows out wider...and wider. He unfanned his lats and I was astounded. He looked to be 25 ft wide!! Saliva dripped from my open mouth as Coach presented me with an Olympia quality back lat spread. Somehow, I audibly emanated a “wow” and saw my hero's body bounce slightly as he chuckled at my verbal awe. From over his shoulder, Coach added with a cocky grin, “OF COURSE, HOW CAN I SHOW OFF MY HAMSTRINGS AND GLUTES WITH THIS BIG BAGGY SHEET?” I gasped as Coach undid the sheet and it fell to the ground. I again gasped as two of the most glorious ass muscles that ever existed loomed above me about 25 ft up in the air. His glutes were just as developed as the rest of him, sitting atop his ribbed hamstrings and presenting a tight crease where his hamstrings and glutes met. The old adage, 'you could bounce a quarter off that ass' was apt here, only in his case you could use a manhole cover instead! Coach adjusted his stance and really squeezed his glutes, which shockingly tightened even further revealing a clear concave dimple in each glute. I was certain that butt could squeeze coal in diamond. By this time, I was rock hard although I hadn't even noticed. The titanic man of muscle in front of me was just too much. Even slightly bigger, harder and more muscular than when I saw him in the pool the other day, and now seeing him in his full gigantic glory under the bright indoor lights had me at full mast, harder than I'd ever been in my life. And it was only going to get hotter as Coach slowly turned around to face me. As he turned I quickly spotted...it. Jutting far out past his his hip. Like me, his posing session had turned him on. Coach only had to twist his body by about 30 degrees before the enormous cock head came into view. He continued turning slowly around to face me, his battering ram making a wide arc out in front of him. Finally he was facing me with his hands on his hips and his erection jutting out directly above my head. With him being so huge his face was obscured from me by the pornstar-sized schlong. Coach chuckled and twisted his hips slightly, again exposing me to his handsome smiling face. “POSING ALWAYS GET'S ME EXCITED, HOPE YOU DON'T MIND, LITTLE BRUTE.” I saw his massive eyes drop slightly downward as he took notice of my own tenting shorts. “IT LOOKS LIKE MASSIVE MUSCLE FLEXING GETS YOU EXCITED TOO, JACKSON! WHY DON'T YOU LOSE THE SHORTS, AND JOIN ME IN POSING. PERHAPS I CAN GIVE YOU A COUPLE OF POINTERS.” I dropped my shorts and kicked them to the side as Coach Wood gave me a whistle. “YOU ARE ONE FINE SPECIMEN OF YOUNG SEXY BEEF, JACKSON,” he said as I felt myself go into a full body blush. “THOSE EXTRA 15 LBS OF MUSCLE ARE SUITING YOU VERY WELL. IT GOES WELL WITH THAT IMPRESSIVE COCK YOU'RE SPORTING THERE, LITTLE STUD.” I grinned up at Coach as he peered far down into my own relatively tiny eyes. “HOW ABOUT A MOST MUSCULAR? LIKE THIS!” Coach's chest tilted forward toward me and it felt like a wall was falling at me, causing me to flinch just slightly. He brought his fists together just above his waist and FLEXED every muscle of his torso down at me. His width seemingly doubled in size as each muscle tightened into frightening definition. The fibers snaking across the top of his chest looked to be as large as ropes to me as he smirked and growled and held the pose. I grinned up at him and mimicked his pose as best as I could, bringing my own hands together in front of me. Of course, being at a level 40-some feet below him I couldn't much hunch forward, but I did my best to crab my torso muscles and sneer up at coach. “OH YEAH, JACKSON. LOOKING POWERFUL. YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE ME A RUN FOR MY MONEY I SEE! ALL THE LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYS WILL BE ALL OVER YOUR BUFF BODY.” I reveled in his praise. “BUT...I DON'T THINK YOU CAN QUITE COMPETE WITH THIS!!!” Coach raised both his monstrous arms up and brought his hands together behind his head. His bulbous lats flared out like a the wings of a peacock. Each arm seemingly doubled in size as the muscles of the limbs fought for space and bunched against each other. Each biceps was so massive the peaks were pressing against his own temples. The exposed hairy armpits were so deep and cavernous due to his incredible pectorals and delts that I could've gone spelunking in them. He swung one massive leg out in front of himself and planted his foot, which was longer than I was tall, right in front of me. He growled down at me as he crunched his abs together and flexed his godly quadriceps, giving me the most amazing abs-and-thighs pose ever seen on this earth. From my vantage point just below his shins I was looking up at a tower of thick, powerful, bodybuilder muscle and manhood. Coach's own proportionally 13 inch cock, that is, 13 inches if he were still a 6 ft 6 mortal, loomed above me like a battering ram, flanked on each side by tons of warm, veiny, dense muscle. I broke my pose and just stared way up in awe, my own cock now leaking. I could barely speak. “So...so big...so huge...” I muttered and my hero smirked as he heard. “Coach Wood, you are amazing. Wow, I've never been so turned on by a man before. You are amazing, sir. No man on this earth could ever compete with you. Those muscles, that definition, that...that...monster cock. You make every man on this planet look like a...pathetic weakling! You are so...so hot!” He relaxed the pose and chuckled before giving me a warm smile. “THAT MAY BE TRUE JACKSON, BUT I DON'T WANT YOU OR ANY OF YOUR TEAMMATES TO EVER THINK OF YOURSELVES AS PATHETIC WEAKLINGS. I MAY BE IN A LEAGUE OF MY OWN, BUT YOU ARE MY PLAYERS AND I WANT YOU TO BE THE BEST MEN YOU CAN BE. YOU ARE A STUD, JACKSON. YOU'RE TALENTED, SMART, ATHLETIC, YOU'VE GOT A FANTASTIC BODY...” I noticed now that Coach was playing with his tumescent log. “...AND YOU ARE HANDSOME TO BOOT.” Coach sighed as his massive eyes bored holes into my own. I could feel the tension in the air. It was then that I realized I had been full on jacking my dick while talking with Coach. “YOU ARE SUCH A GOOD LOOKING YOUNG MAN. FUCK, I JUST CAN'T HELP IT!” Coach suddenly stooped over and reached his mighty right hand down and wrapped his fingers around me. I lurched up into the air as he picked me up. He moved me up to his waist where we sat me down straddling the magnificent caber that was his cock. I leaned back against his pelvis, his trimmed pubic hair scratching against my back. “JACK OFF WITH ME MR. MASON JACKSON, I HAVEN'T GOT OFF SINCE THAT EVENING IN THE POOL I'M SO PENT UP.” I stared forward and saw his monstrous hands work down and back on the mighty erection. The sequoia sized, sinewy forearms moving toward and away from me in rhythmic motion. I titled my head back and looked up and saw the underside of his gigantic pecs hiding his face from view. Each nipple pointed down toward me due to his herculean development. I joined him and began beating my own dick in the same rhythm as coach. After a few minutes of heavy mutual masturbation I could feel my body becoming warm and wet, dampened from my own sweat and my coach's. I could hear Coach's breathing picking up along with mine. He then again reached toward me and picked me up with his right hand. He lifted me up and held me in front of his sex-glazed eyes. “FEEL MY MUSCLES, JACKSON.” He then lifted his left arm and flexed. He maneuvered me over and laid me down on top of the flexed biceps muscle! My ass was sitting in the crook of his arm while I leaned forward and hugged the granite mound of flesh. Coach flexed and unflexed his arm and I felt myself rise and fall against it. The motion of the muscle fibers bunching and elongating against my groin caused stimulated me to start humping his muscle. Coach signed heavily, “OH YEAH JACKSON, THAT'S SO HOT. FUCK MY MONSTER BICEPS, MY LITTLE BRUTE!” My body was on fire as I leaned forward to lick the flexing mass underneath me. At his size, the split in his biceps was as big as the cleavage between a normal-sized bodybuilder's pecs. I continued to grind my rock hard cock against his arm. At one point I glanced to the side and down 25 ft or so to see coach using his free hand to furiously jack his own meat. “OOOOOOHHHH YEAH LITTLE BUDDY. LET'S BLOW TOGETHER!” Coach began to flex and unflex faster, bringing me to a fever pitch of muscular stimulation. Not 30 seconds later both of our bodies tightened. Coach flexed his biceps harder than ever, his forearms pressing against my back forcing my body into his boulder-sized muscle. We both groaned loudly and blew our loads in sync. I was only slightly disappointed that I didn't get to see his geyser, but unloading my balls on his biceps was more than enough to make up for it. As we calmed down Coach reached over and gently lifted me from his arm, his wet, jizz soaked fingers encircled my waist and he set me on the ground. I looked behind me to see various pools of white cum dotting the turf of the field house. I looked back up at Coach and saw one of the hottest things I had ever seen. Coached smirked down at me, again flexed his left biceps muscle and brought it toward his mouth. He stuck his tongue out and licked up my own load off the taught, titanic biceps. “MMMM, NOT ONLY ARE YOU A STUD, YOU TASTE GREAT TOO, JACKSON.” To clean up, we again snuck our way into the pool. Once we were clean Coach dismissed me for the night. “GET SOME REST, JACKSON. WE'VE GOT A BIG GAME TOMORROW. AND, I NEED TO GO BACK AND FIGURE OUT HOW I'M GOING TO CLEAN UP MY MESS IN THE FIELD HOUSE,” he chuckled. My roommate and I were hanging out as we prepared for bed. We talked excitedly about how our first game would go tomorrow. Suddenly the power went out, which was odd since there were no storms in the area. Luckily, since it was Friday night neither of us were in the middle of any homework assignments so no school work was lost. About 10 minutes later the power came back on. We watched some TV before settling in and drifting off to sleep, excited for the chance to play for our giant football coach the following day.
  24. Hello guys! This is my firat time writing full story and post it. This story is one of the alternative story line that could happen in growbar world, from my comic. Also please letme know if there are some mistake on the grammer and word sellection.Also please comment so I can improve the next chapter. Thanks guys! **PROTOTYPE 60 GROWBAR (PT60G)** Eatable and Shapable Grow Bar **Character List**: Max Blaine, Researcher, Gym Buddy (45 Years old, Vega Company) Luke Kent, Father, Freelance Artist (46 years old) Newt Kent, High School Student (17 years old) -*Luke Perspective* *GYM, Saturday, 5:00 PM*- Newt and I went to Gym to do our regular gym stuff, Cardio, Weight, Zoomba, and other. But Suddenly someoneshout to me “Hey Dude, What’s up! Long time no see!!” I look at the source and I see Max Blain. Max, a Researcher at Vega Company, Human Biological Innovation Division. His current job is to Research about muscle development, simply put “How to get ripped easily.” Even though He’s only a scientist, he’s still the sexiest scientist I ever see. With those broad shoulder, deep pecs and abs separation, those killer V line and don’t forget those veiny roadmap on his Biceps. “Yo! Still huge as always! rare to see you this hour” I Greet Him warmly while huffing on the Treadmill. “Yeah Usually went in the morning, but duty calls” max answerandjump to treadmill next to me. “Still can’t get away from the gym huh?” “Dude, I need to keep this kingdom firm and ripped” Max answering while giving me a double biceps pose “Huh, said the dude who can make people grow instantly” “DUDE, It’s company secret I can’t use it on public” “But you still try to offer it to me” “Hey you know, I’m just helping a friend in need, so do you want one?” “Later Max, maybe when i have to move the house” “Well call me when you need it okay, and i will send it to you ASAP” “Thank you Max” “Still Stubborn as usual luke” “Still lusting for sex as usual max” We chuckled a bit and continue work on our cardio. Then, Newt walk towards me. “Dad, i’m hitting it early today want to meet mike later. Oh, Hi Mr.Blaine! how are you?” Newt said “Yo Newt!i’m fine, Starting hitting the gym I see” Max Replied “Yeah trying to build a better body” “Well good luck and always remember consistency and Hard work is everything” Max reply and encouraging Newt with two thumbs up “Thanks for the tip Mr.Blaine, So Dad...” IReplied “Okay, just be safe, and if something happen just called me.” “Don’t worry dad, were just going to play abit at his house. Bye dad!” Newt reply while walking to the locker “Also when you’re doing it, Make sure to use protection” I yell to newt, trying to hit up one of my cranky dad jokes. Newt quickly blitz to the locker room while looking away from me. "Your joke still the worse" Max said We chuckled again. We finished our cardio session and start to move to the weight area. "By the way how long has he been hitting the gym?" Max Asked "about a month ago" I answer “Hmmm…, Yoursonhave a great potential but he still have a long way to go." "Yeah, it’s still a long way" "You Know there is a quicker way" "No,i’m not letting you test your Experimental dildo with my son." "Dude, First off, the Mixture work, Second, the dildo is the past we are expanding the product design, now you can eat it and shape it to your will." "Dude…i’m not sure…" "Come on dude, i know you. Imagine what your kid could become, I know you always want your own personal muscle boy. I’m Telling you this is your chance, before he move to uni and becamerebelious like his dad" Fuck, imagenning Newt having those big, firm and ripped pecs and biceps make me hard. I mean he also receive some benefits from this right? It’s not like I’m turning him to a freak right? i mean he will be happy right? if he get big and muscular? “Is the product safe? are there any minor complaint?” “it’s safe, complaint? JusthighTestosteron, adrenalin and libido level and wanting to jerk all the time.” Max answer with a cheery voice “hmm… How muchis it??” “dude accept it done. Just send the pics of the growth and the growth data.also meet me at my house at 8" "okay, 8 At your house?" "Thanks dude."Max Said "Thanks Max" I reply After that we went to separate machine and work it out. after finishing my session i quickly tell newt that i will be late and went to Max house. Even though Max is Only a Scientist his house is pretty big with high ceiling and high class architecture design. I knock on the door but nobody answer, i knock again but still no response. Suddenly a the lock on the door unlock and someone pushed me inside from behind and shove me to the wall. Turn out it’s max all along. “Fuck Dude you scare me” I shout at him “Sorry dude it’s just it’s been a long time… doing this again… together.” Max reply softly with his innocent eye looking at me “Well what are you waiting rip my shirt off” “Dude i can’t wait to suck off those juicy tits of your’s” “Wait before that hold on, I present to you P60Growbar which currently shaped like chocolate bar.” “shit dude, you’re already a big guy” “big but not huge enough,alsoi need to proof my client that it works, so one product demonstration coming right up.” He pull it out of the wrapping and chew half of the bar down quickly. Than, He pull my head to his chest. I could feel the body responding to The Growbar. his body is getting hotter and hotter. I can feel his muscle tensing and shacking. then the golden moments have come, I could his Fucking sexy Biceps and Glutes muscle expanding and thickening. His arms and neck are also thickening. Those muscle feels so hot and so Firm. “Fuck dude I think this is more potent that previous Growbar” Max Said “Well that’s a Good improvement” I Replied “Haha BEST IMPROVEMENT, COME ONERIP IT YOU SON OF THE BITCH, RIP MY FUCKING TANKTOP” Max shout, So I Quickly tried to rip the tank, but Max pushed my hands away “I’M NOT TALKINGTO YOU! I”M TALKING TO MY PECS!!! COME ON MAKE IT RIP!!! COME FUCKING ON!!!” Max shouting louder and louder with full of lust anger in his masculine face. His tight tank are now Stretching and Stretching. compensating his pecs who are still growing, expanding, and struggling for room in his tanktop. Finally Growth after growth, his tanktop starting to give up. Then His Tank suddenly rip up making more room for the growing pecs. a couple minutes later the growth are now finally over and with one swipe he ripped his tanktop. “Fuck Sir, I think my pecs need your emergency kisses and reward because they are almost died of suffacation” “my pleasure sir.” I kiss those pecs in every region that i know. Touching it and Feeling those firm hard hot muscle. Fuck, it feel so hot. i Squeeze and punched it and those firm muscle doesn’t budge. I punched it again and not a single dent. Max give out a little giggle and said he doesn’t feel anything. I tried again and than i give up. Because it’s feel like his pecs are being made from a solid pieces of titanium. To reward those humongous pecs for it looks and feels, i suck both of those nipple, tasting their juicy and sweet cent and lick every drop of sweat on his pecs. I lick from the end of the pec valley to the sweetness of the adam’s apple and ended on the juicy and bitey lips of Max. “I think there’s also someone down there that you need to say thank you ” “I Think I will”i Go down, but on the I kissed every Abs muscle island that i found. “Siri thinki found eight island and what appear a huge ten inch tower Should i proceed captain?” “Proceed” Than, I lightly kissed and tease his dick head and then lick it and play it like a melting on ice cream. after cleaning it up i sucked it as long and deep as i can. i start slowly and start to move rappidly until… “Fuck dude I’m CLOSE!!!” “FUCCKKKK” MAx Scream And then herelease it into my mouth and i try to eat, lick and slurp everybit of it.“Fuck Yeah, Next time bring your son along okay so we can have much more fun!.’“I’ll try, also Max can i do the ussual?” “Sure,i’m waiting for you to ask withexitment, I jump over his body put my body Place it between thode deep pecs valley and start to fuck them hard and fast until… “Fuck I’m Close” I shout “FUCK” I shout again “I shoot every loadthati got into the valley and on to his face.” “Thank you forthehelp” I said to him "Don’t worry I also need that, Fuck that’s the best suckingi have ever receive" Max Compliment me "Thanks dude" I reply while liying on top of mark feeling both our body touching and exploring. "also dude before youleaveremeber to pickup those five big bottle of P60GB, I wonder how will you use it, without him noticing?" Max Asked "I don’t knowbuti think i’m going to shape it to…." -COMING SOON: CHAPTER 2
  25. 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. ************************************************************************
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