Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'muscle worship'.

More search options

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


  • General
    • News
    • Problems and Suggestions
    • Introductions
    • General Discussion
  • Written Works
    • Stories
    • Role Playing
    • Continuous Stories
    • Fantasies and Story Ideas
    • Chat & Role-Playing Transcripts
    • Real-Life Muscle Growth Experiences
  • MG.com's Storiversary
    • General
    • Storiversary Story Archive
  • Media
    • General Images
    • Artwork & Morphs
    • Videos
    • Before & After Transformations
  • Community
    • Personals
    • Chat Buddies
    • Surveys & Polls
    • Advertisements
  • Bodybuilding
    • General
    • Training
    • Muscle & Mind
    • Diet & Nutrition
    • Steroids
    • Watch Me Grow
  • Off Topic
    • Main Off Topic Board
    • News & Current Events
    • Weird / Funny / Interesting
  • Hyper and Impossibly Big Muscle!'s Welcome!
  • Hyper and Impossibly Big Muscle!'s Gallery
  • DC Area Muscle's Discussion
  • Tall Muscle's Discussion & Advice
  • Furry Muscle Club's Club Chat
  • Spanish-speaking members!'s Presentaciones
  • Superstrength and Crushing's Your favorite Superstrength & Crushing Stories
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Dumbing You
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Meathead Make-Believe
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Dumb Stud Pictures
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Mutual Muscling
  • South East Asia Muscle Club's Muscle Tales
  • 2D Muscle Artists's Topics
  • Bodybuilders Seeking Sponsors's Physique Progress Galleries
  • Bodybuilders Seeking Sponsors's Guys Seeking Sponsors
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Bodybuilding Websites
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Top Tips, Articles and Guides
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Video Clips
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Social Media
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Supplements
  • Second Life's GYMS
  • Second Life's Topics
  • New York City Muscle's Member Intro
  • New York City Muscle's Personals


There are no results to display.

There are no results to display.


There are no results to display.

There are no results to display.

Find results in...

Find results that contain...

Date Created

  • Start


Last Updated

  • Start


Filter by number of...


  • Start





Website URL






What are your interests?

What are your stats?

What are you seeking?

What are your dream stats?

Favorite Stories

Favorite Bodybuilders

Got Any Fetishes?

Found 23 results

  1. 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 in 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 there 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...
  2. 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-
  3. 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.”
  4. “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
  5. shawnkid

    Jocking Up - My Roommate

    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.
  6. muscleclimber12

    Steven's muscle building project Ch.3

    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.
  7. godofjurai


    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…
  8. 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. Moster barked a command. “Men, front double biceps!” The bodybuilders didn’t hesitate to follow orders. Nine pairs of insanely muscled arms rose high into the air, stretching high above handsome heads. Hands shot to the ceiling, then 18 fists clenched, and slowly descended into tilting, powerful, mega-biceps displays. On each man, twin peaks of veiny, chiseled biceps muscles roiled, then bloomed, expanded and rose high. Higher and higher, harder and fuller, inch after blooming inch of biceps. The muscle monster forearms twisted with intricately twisting, immense brachioradialis, flexors, and extensor muscles. And just above, the powerfully clenched fists, threatening weapons promising fearful damage atop mountainous mounds of perfectly shaped muscle. Muscles, rumbling to life, rising swiftly into staggering pointing peaks of iron and flesh. And as masses of arm muscle bellied up into fantastic iron-hard masses, slowly emerging from beneath expanding fabric, the sleeves of the men’s spandex t-shirts stretched and strained, instantly close to bursting. To a man, their pecs were fully expanded, round shelves of chest muscle, jutting out high and horizontal. Lats flared. Quads seemed to be about to burst out of tight pants. The schmoes could only imagine the insanely round, hard glutes, each fully curved into enticing man flanks. First studying one magnificent arm, then turning his head to take in the other, Casey joined the others and methodically tilted his own arms high into massive front double biceps. By now, Casey’s was not the only crotch beginning to show activity. The men’s packages behind taut slacks flies now rolled with blooming, threatening erections, bell-shaped penis glans with deep pissholes standing out in the slacks fabric, pointing straight out and upwards heavily. The schmoes were now cowering on the long sofa, gripping their phones, and Casey could see that, to a man, their puny little free hands leapt to their own pathetic yet growing bulges, now appearing in their expensive, tailored slacks. “Fuck me….” breathed the fat schmoe closest to Casey. Behind him, he could sense Mike, staring at the muscle display. “Sir, bustin’ sleeves!” shouted Alvarez. Casey’s own sleeves strained, and, threads parting slowly, ripped into tears as the peaks of his biceps expanded to their full 26 inches. He was proud of his arms, his size. “Continue to flex!” The command was not ambiguous. “See those muscles? My boys can do some serious damage. Are we clear about the cellphones yet?” The schmoes were not so much defiant as frozen. “Let me join them.” And Moster stepped forward and, slightly gritting his teeth, and calmly raised his own arms into powerful double biceps flexing. And from behind his fly, his giant member twitched and groaned, the bulge moving like a giant animal, rolling over and awakening from deep sleep. He rotated his clenched fist slightly, his corbeling biceps meat hard and peaking higher and higher, filling with chiseled, throbbing muscle. The uppermost peak was graced with an intricate network of thick veins that pushed his tight, thin black skin to its limits. “Sergeant Moster, let’s not get excited now…” It was Dr. Shaft, of course, already whining and fearful, stepping forward from the group, his hands raised in protest. Casey had to hand it to him, though. As frightened as Shaft obviously was – and hadn’t Moster hospitalized him more than once during their “worship” sessions – still, he was attempting to keep order. Moster smiled, still flexing biceps. “Do I look excited?” Alvarez snickered and cocked his head down and slightly at Moster’s blooming crotch, and slightly pushed his hips forward to better display his own package. “Yes, sir, you do,” he said quietly. “Private Waring?” “Yes, sir!” “Why don’t you take our good friend Dr. Shaft in hand here, and privately show him the very good work you’ve been doing on your quads?” “It would be my pleasure, sir.” Waring stepped forward, dropped his arms, and grabbed Shaft by his necktie, pulling him roughly out of the room and heading down the corridor. “Oh, but, I think….um…well, if you think so….? Private Waring? Hi! Have your quads indeed gotten even bigger since the last time I saw them?...” “Oh, ever so much more so bigger, sir!” They were disappearing down the same corridor where Gunst had carried the fat producer. “And allow me the pleasure of showing them to you, sir.” And they were gone down the corridor. The remaining muscle monsters continued, unwavering, unmoving, their arms tilted high, biceps and forearm muscles rippling and bulging insanely. And now their tight sleeves were splitting from the expanding biceps, cloth in tatters on their huge arms, one by one, down the line…. R-I-I-I-I-I-P……! R-I-I-I-I-I-P-P……! R-I-I-I-I-I-P-P-P……! And the sleeves were gone, just shreds of cloth dangling down the sides of the flexing men. “Are you ready to put down the phones, gentlemen. Last warning.” A pause. And one by one the schmoes hurriedly put their phones away. “Gentlemen, you may now remove what is left of your clothes.” At his command, all of the men remaining in the line-up began to strip. The ragged t-shirts popped as if in unison as they were released from the massive upper body of each man. The boots were unlaced and pushed away. Nine belts hit the floor, and nine pairs of regulation khakis followed. Beneath, all wore the same barely restraining white Spandex posers. Cocks and balls bulged forth, each man spilling half a foot of visible cock into barely sheathed pouches. “Arms behind backs!” barked Moster. He turned to the schmoes and became one with his men. “Spread legs!” All spread their legs wide, shooting their right legs out in choreographed unison. At one end, Casey did the same. “Prepare!” Fists clenched, crammed in solid obliques. “Front double biceps!” All arms slowly rose. And 18 pairs of cannonballs of enormous power ball biceps snapped into ungodly peaks. The men faced straight ahead, all eyes high and level, as if gazing into infinity. “Jesus,” breathed someone from the sofa. The lineup of ten men stood all flexing with massive front double biceps power. Then Moster brought his arms down strode slowly across the room to the sofa. As he moved, his half-covered organ swayed heavily, muscular root and veiny thick shaft exposed for a plunging eight inches, the rest of his penis barely sheathed, lower dick and balls swaying heavily from side to side in his posing pouch. Behind him, the lineup of men continued to flex biceps without wavering. They didn’t glance at Moster. They stood gazing straight ahead, his arms up and steadily holding biceps pose. "Corporal Schumacher?” “Yes, sir!” barked Schumacher, standing in full ripped muscle display. “Get over here. I think our friends need some persuading.” From the sofa, more whimpering, but gleams of interest. “I want him…” someone whispered. “Yes, sir!” Schmacher stepped forth, his bright teeth showing a gleaming, vicious smile. “Karim?” “Yes, sir!” “Join us.” “Yes, sir!” The same for Karim, a powerful muscle monster blanketed with wire-thick black hair, the terrifying muscle size looming. “Oooooo, he’s for me,” came a girly squeal. “Obatu?” “You got it, sir.” “Washington?” “On it.” “I think our friends are ready to play. Aren’t you gentlemen?” “I want the pretty one!” said a particularly nauseating schmoe, pointing at Hension. Hension came forward, smiling willingly. “Why not? Hension?” “You bet!” He was still flexing his huge rocky biceps. His heavy penis was now beginning to pole to the ceiling in anticipation of worship. “Gentlemen, let’s shake our friends loose from their little refuge” “Yes, sir!” Karim, Schumacher, Obatu and Washington stepped forward, their cocks swaying heavily in their revealing posers. “Holy shit, here they come!” yelled one of the schmoes from the sofa, where they all now cringed, in spite of their excitement. “I’ll take this end,” Schumacher said to Karim. “You take that. You guys take the middle.” Karim grunted assent. “Men. Squat.” And as if rehearsed, the four men positioned themselves at the sofa’s edges, rotated muscular hips, spread legs wide, and squatted deep, preparing to lift. “Grab your corner.” Each man grabbed a section of the 25’ sofa (which weighed about 800 pounds). Powerful man glutes pointed ceiling high. Casey had to admire the view. “Nice display of muscle butt at work,” he thought. “Casey, will you move that coffee table out the way, please?” What’s a coffee table? Casey wondered. He looked over at Mike, who gestured to the large, heavy low table in front of the sofa of now screaming schmoes. “Oh. Sure. I mean, yes, sir.” Casey stepped forward and picked up the 10 foot long oak coffee table. “Toss it over there,” said Moster. “Let’s get this night going.” Casey squatted, his own flanks firm, picked up the coffee table in powerful hands (which itself weighed about 300 pounds), lifted it easily, and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed, breaking in two solid pieces. “Now lift it high,” said Moster. And easy as could be, the four muscle monsters lifted the sofa, up, up, up. Hoisting it first to quad level, then to their waists, to their pecs, over their shoulders, and then high, high over their heads. “Yes, sir!” all shouted, and getting underneath it, the men repositioned, regripped, and tossed it high and easily up in the air with all nine schmoes clinging to it. They held it aloft a moment, the schmoes peering over the edge. “Toss it.” And it flew, flew, 10 feet across the room in the air, several tons of a sailing tumble of pillows, wood, steel, plush, upholstery, and screaming fat executives. Crash landing on the floor in a mass of feathers, splinters, pillows, torn cushions, and squirming, screaming men. “I'm calling my lawyer!” screamed one of the men. Moster glanced briefly. As he thought, the plush cushions sheltered the men in the crash. No one appeared seriously hurt. Yet. “Gentlemen, select your partners.” “I want him!” an exec screamed. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. The choices are to be made not by you, but by my men.” “Okay, asshole, you’re MINE,” declared Obatu. He grabbed a schmoe by the scruff of the neck, pulled him up, flexed a beautiful biceps in his face, and dragged him from the room. “Let’s go play.” From his sofa, safe and untouched Mike looked at the tangle of men, watching as each of bodybuilders stepped forth, grabbed a man, and carried him aloft and out of the room. Three minutes later, the room was empty. And a few moments after that, from the bedrooms and corridors throughout the house, moaning, groaning, smacking, slurping and squishing noises could be heard. Muscle worship, it seemed, took on an audible life force in this house. “That sofa cost $26,000,” Mike said quietly. Casey turned and looked at him. “It did?” “It did. Yes. And the coffee table was another $10.000. No matter. I’ll order another tomorrow.” He sighed. “We’ll just have to barter the expense.” Moster came forward, and suddenly even he was a little stricken. The game was just getting started, and already damages amounted to $36,000. The men had gotten out of control, it seemed. What would Zaftig say? However, Mike was calm, and now, for the first time, completely in charge. He looked up at the two musclemen standing before him and assessed the situation. “Boys,” he said calmly to Moster and Casey, “let’s review. I see a lot of muscle here before me. And I’m very rich. I can afford it. I’m a billionaire. Many times over.” Casey gawked openly. “Hell, I could buy and sell you both 100 times before breakfast,” Mike confided jokingly. “But. I’m not a bad guy. I have some talents of my own.” He stood and placed gentle hands on the solid pecs above him, as the men looked down. “So. Let’s barter. I’m willing to forget the damage. Forgive and forget, I say.” Casey glanced at Moster next to him, now keenly listening closely to every word. The power had shifted, but Moster didn’t seem to mind. “The beautiful muscular 19-year old, perfect blond god, and the handsome black giant,” cooed Mike. “I see you both for what you are. Gleaming muscles on both of you. I see thick, pulsing necks, impossibly strong, leading down to mounds of trapezius muscles. Shoulders impossibly wide, and your round shape is perfection itself. Deltoids, three rounded huge heads, all blooming, full and heavy. And those cannon balls terminate at your triceps with insertions on both of you that form deep chasms between the muscle groups.” Casey was hypnotized. “Simply astounding muscle development. Cephalic veins that run downward to feed your thick, rippling forearms. Your biceps are the size of most men’s legs. Flex them again, for me, will you?” Without question both men raised their arms slowly and flexed powerful biceps in Mike’s face. “Thank you, Beautiful. Beautiful.” “Gosh,” breathed Casey, still flexing powerfully but unable to move or think. He was now entering his muscle worship planet. All he wanted to do was flex his huge muscles for this man, and plough his huge cock down his throat. “Go on,” said Moster. “Oh, just keep flexing. It’s what you do best. Not think. Flex. And, I gather, fuck. You know, I think it’s your massive chests that assert the core of your power. Those thick plates of muscle housing twin brown areola which were capped with peanut-sized nipples. These nipples actually point to the floor because of the protrusion of the pectorals.” Mike reached up and lightly flicked all four nipples in front of him. Casey’s penis trembled and bounced in his posers at Mike’s confident touch. “They’re plates of meat cantilevered out over the void. And your lats are so wide and thick they force your arms almost straight outward. Intercostals and abdominals working together, girdling your lower torsos to pour the huge muscle downward, cobbled with brick, pouring into a narrow confluence at your tiny waists. It’s as if your arms, back and chest are at a war to occupy the same space. But I know you’re impossibly limber, and flexible. You dive beautifully, don’t you, Casey?” “I’m awesome in Speedos…” Casey breathed, deeply under the power of Mike’s words, from his muscle planet, ready to fly. “I’m sure of it. Because, there’s your huge, huge cock. Erect. Both of you. The biggest human penises on the planet, aren’t they? Always ready to spurt. To cum. To explode with quarts of semen.” He looked down. “Do I see precum now? I think I do.” A long pause. “You’re a poet,” said Moster. “Oh, I’m more than that. And you’re both lab creations of the highest order. Perfect specimens.” And suddenly, easily, Mike unzipped his jeans. And his surprisingly large organ tumbled out – not as big, of course, as the gargantuan penises of Moster or Casey, but a good 10 inches in length, and surprisingly beautiful. A member full of solid strength and promise. Both men stared down. Casey gulped. “Very impressive,” said Sergeant Moster. “Now what?” There was a long pause. “Boys,” asked Mike, his fingers now dancing lightly across impossibly thick beefy plains of pec muscle, all while tweaking those heavy, stiffening nipples, looking up into rapt and handsome faces, “what would you say to few hours of a muscle sandwich?”
  9. 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
  10. muscleclimber12

    Steven's muscle building project Ch.2

    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.
  11. dredlifter

    The Giant Football Coach - Chapter 8

    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.
  12. dredlifter

    The Giant Football Coach - Chapter 7

    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.
  13. leogrando

    GROW BAR P60 by Leo

    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
  14. dredlifter

    The Giant Football Coach - Chapter 5

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

    Rick Moves You, Too

    I swear he was trying to tempt me. It seemed no matter what time of day I went out, there was a good 30% chance I'd see Rick, the steaming hunk of muscle with horse flank calves that had moved me in a few weeks ago. I would see him out on a run, or a walk with his adorable corgi every couple of days. He would always great me by name, but never really stopped to talk - - always on the move, if you'll forgive the pun. My Ricky had already blessed me with several intense orgasms. Remembering him lifting things with ease, knowing he flat out showed off those lower wheels for me and hoping he had flirted when he stopped to get 'something' out of his shoe and rubbed those beasts in front of me! I mean, even his big hands couldn't get around those mounds. More pleasure was derived from imagining what else he might have built for muscle lovers. He was obviously very strong and healthy. He was an exceptional runner, I mean the literal skill of athletic, possibly competitive racing. He was not out of proportion from those King-calves...so the rest must be impressive. He was ALWAYS in a T-shirt or even more when we crossed paths. So many muscle gods can't keep anything under wraps, but he was actually breaking my expectations of this man town. Plenty of others less worthy showed it all constantly. I was so taken with my Ricky that one morning I saw him coming with Princess Kate (the corgi) and stopped as they got near. I had heard him call to her last week, so I surprised them bith when I bent down and greeted Kate enthusiastically. "Good Morning, Princess!" I got right down where after a sniff or two I could receive licks of greeting. I looked up while being appreciated and said, "and to you, Rick," and added a wink. Oh, God! What did I do?! I winked at him! I looked back at the dog and a million things raced through my head. What if he asks if I winked? What if he ignores it? What if he laughs? What if he tells me 'he doesn't play on my team' or some other jock-reference rejection? What if he starts avoiding me? All of those thoughts and the accompanying emotions in an instant. I broke a sweat. Shit - why didn't I at least try to create another interaction before a wink!? "Good Morning to you, Michael, from both me and Kate, apparently," he said good-naturedly. In with the dog, in with the man it seems. As I stand up to look him in the eyes, he has a business card in his paw (his hands really are big with labor) and I take it reactively. He starts to move around me and commands Princess Kate to follow, which she does. I would've too if he'd asked. I watch him go up the street. He never looks back and has moved on with his day. He is in some pretty small shorts and I zero in on those calves again. It looks like he is almost walking on his tip-toes, certainly the balls of his feet, causing them to flex. Hell, maybe they flex like that without effort. But for the first time, I also look further up the leg and can see cords in his hammies. From walking, people! I drink in the sight, imagine his abilities with such muscle tone and stop at his ass. I immediately turned away, like I'd been caught staring. That pair of thick, powerful glutes was astounding. They commanded attention. How had I not noticed before! Oh, yeah, because I was a calf bitch in our previous encounter and couldn't make room in my little mind for any other muscle group. But now that I had spent some time absorbing what I had seen and fantacizing a touch about what else might be there, I was ready for more. And more is what I got. Once I regained mental control I looked down at the card. I started to leak pre-cum and I went from semi-erect to completely turgid. The card simply read: Rick Moves You, Too EROTIC MASSAGE - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I was leaving my building a few mornings later, having denied self-pleasure since I received the card. Having tried to concentrate on anything but Rick. I had finished my move-in, broken down the boxes and several other tasks I wasn't sure I'd ever get to, all because I was trying to save up the energy to have the courage to call and book an erotic massage. As I barreled out the door, a bit behind schedule because I was moving slower than ever before, almost caught in a daze of anticipated pleasures, when I saw him. Rick was standing, leaning against the tree trunk closest to my stairs, looking like he was hustling. He had those short short on again and NOTHING ELSE! No top, no shoes. He was displaying himself. He had his arms crossed and I was mesmerized by those thick arms, the bulging chest covered with dark brown hair, which I wasn't expecting. I traveled past his taught waist down to quads I didn't know exsisted on any man, past my calves made of wet dreams to his feet. Fuck they w..ere...b...ig... I woke up in my apartment, on my couch. I had an ice compress across my neck and shoulders and was being watched over by my Ricky. Was I dreaming? Why would he be in my place? And smiling reassuringly at me? "I barely caught you in time, big guy," he said as he recognized me coming to. "You still whipped your neck around good as I caught your fall from the top of those steps. What happened? Are you sick?" "What happened?" I retorted like he knew and was just awaiting confirmation. "You come and stand at the base of my stoop looking all...looking all...hell, you know what you do to people. Men, women, me. We all want you. Don't play me for the fool, you're sizzling hot and you know it." "I'm pleased you feel that way." He stood and backed a step or two and I saw a massage table set up and ready in my front room. Time for the massage. Remember, Rick moves you, too." With that, he turned that dreamy body away from me, bent straight down stiff leg deadlift style, stretched a little, touching his head to his shins, let out a large sigh, pulled the shorts down and climbed up on the table, pronouncing his command, "Get to it, Michael. Deep pressure." ***** Part three describing the massage and following activities beyond dreaming and teasing? Let me know...😏
  16. michaeldavid

    Bi the Way

    After years on wonderful sites like muscle-growth.org and musclepla.net and even YouTube with its plethora of astounding muscles to worship via the screen, I had decided to take matters into my own hands. I wanted to move from closeted muscle worshiper to full fledged, card carrying bisexual. Don't let that stop you from continuing...I love me some smooth female skin. I love ravaging a woman and making her scream my name. I like to be the 'man' and enjoy a big set of tits like nobody's business. However, my hunger for some of those 'opposites' has been growing in me for a score of years. I want to BE ravaged. I want to be pleasured until I have to scream a name. I want to be dominated by MORE of a man and I enjoy a set of man tits like nobody's business. In fact, I'm haunted by huge pectoral muscles. I'm drawn to them. I need someone to give them to me the way a woman offers up her goods. I need to be taken rather than be the taker. No woman can offer that. Not many men can either. It will have to be a special type.I'm nothing spectacular. But approaching forty years old at just over six feet and 200 lbs of manual labor build, I'm not going to be manhandled by just anyone. And manhandling is what I crave. What I want. What I NEED. How can I be assured that my first step from committed-muscle-induced-shower-masturbator to partaker will be successful?I had wanted men like Chizzad, Ninja Tyler Muscle God, Gymnast Anthony and the like to take me for years. I drenched myself every time I watched Bo Dixon in 'Paging Dr Finger.' I popped a boner at the mere mention of Carl Hardwick/Rusty Jeffers. (I mean, seriously, a man that can grow that kind of body/facial hair and still have thick, juicy muscles...I don't care if he's five foot nothing...) I've dialed up Sagi Kalev to relieve and Mike Francois to assuage. I ogle every big man in the airport, at the park, in a store and while getting coffee. I've become so focused on anything manly...scent, body hair, testosterone driven balding, muscle, twinkling eyes, strength...that I can't hardly concentrate on driving. I...must...have...muscle.It seemed my best option was an escort. Someone that was kind enough to share what he'd built. Someone who was friendly enough to converse a few times before we met. Someone whose pictures were impressive but whose reviews were filled with, "this guy is HUGE," or "and his strength is unbelievable," or "he is the stud of all studs," or "he looks so much bigger and better in person," or perhaps all of the above!I looked. I searched. I contacted. I planned. I plotted. I traveled. I scheduled. Now I wait.I've asked him to show up at my very nice hotel, (I didn't want to seem cheap. This isn't a 'hook up,' this is my first time with a MAN), wearing business attire. A man in a well-tailored suit shows everything you need to know about his build. This particular man was billed to be 6' 5". Tall is where it is AT for me. Remember, my desire is to be had! I expect him to stride through the lobby in confidence, dressed like the man that runs such a successful company he has time to focus on his hobby of being the biggest bad ass in a suit. I asked for his favorite cologne as I love the smell of a man out to impress. However, it shouldn't be something that hits you when he nears you, it should be something you have to lean in close to his perfect neck to get a nice dose.I'll be able to admire his big feet, because dress shoes really show a big man's foot off well. I'll be able to see the size of his unflexed arms. I'll know just how serious the v-taper is down his backside. And have you ever really lifted a suit jacket to see how beautifully an ass appears in slacks!? Oh, my God...it's a vision. I'm going to watch him clandestinely from a corner of the lobby and follow him to the elevator. I'm going to watch others stare at him. As we climb higher in the building, we'll end up the only two on the elevator and I'll make a VERY brash comment about how huge he is. Ask if he played football in college or something. I'll flat out ask if I can feel his arm. While I have hold of it, I'll say, "I think you're here to meet me, Brett. I'm Mitchell."I'll ask him if we can hold hands while we walk down the hall to my room. I'll have a hard time controlling my sweat glands when his huge hand engulfs mine. I'll tell him I'm really looking forward to our evening and then latch on to him like a love sick teenage girl. Because, let's admit it, in this case that's exactly what I am.As we enter my room, he'll likely start to remove his suit jacket and I'll stop him cold. "Please, don't. Not yet." We'll pop some beers and I'll invite him to sit down."It's important for you to understand I want to take our time. I often feel people are WAY too eager to get naked and grab a cock. There are SO many ways to enjoy one another before we get to the sensory overload that is fucking. I want to experience you one human sense at a time. I want to look at you in that suit. I want you to tease me a little by telling me and even demonstrating for me how you might impress me in the line at Starbucks if we met there. A little flex. A little pop of pecs so huge that even a suit coat moves. Perhaps a scratch of the back of the head so I can see how the fabric of the jacket strains to contain your bis and tris. I want to lean in close - but not touch you yet - and smell you. Smell your neck. Sniff across your chest...maybe move the jacket back a bit and see if I can sense a manliness from your underarms. I want to walk behind you and dream about what you'll look like naked.""The reason I want this is because that's usually all I get to do with a hot man. I don't want my heart broken, so I don't know that I'll ever dare approach a man like you without a payment. Otherwise, little old me might be refused. I can't take a man I drool over refusing me. I want to remember each step of your undressing and foreplay because I might never get it again.""Now that I've looked and smelled. Please talk to me about what you love about your body. Just tell me about the size of your chest, the cuts on your abs, the fullness of your biceps. Tell me why you like to work out legs and how you do endless, weighted pull ups to keep your back wide. Tell me about how you'd like to demonstrate your strength to me. How you'd like to dominate me and make sure I have a clear understanding that you are superior to me in every way. Not nasty. Just factual. And tantalizing. And sexy. I need you to like talking about what you have."By now, of course, I'll already have a boner I can't handle. I'll ask him to approach and slowly kiss me...once again, without any other touch. I think kissing that starts as nothing but lips and tongue is supreme. It evolves and melds into body contact and he all but destroys my clothes pulling them off. He then shoves me down on the bed and steps back. He begins to show me what I've only dreamed of. He removes the jacket and tosses it on me. I put it on while he undoes his tie and I find it drowns me. The thought of how much man goes into that fabric makes me bite it between my teeth and growl. He uses his tie to toss around my head and coax me back to my feet and kisses me very deeply again. That's IT! I'm taking charge. I wanted this to be slow, but I can't take it anymore. I want to make love NOW.But instead, he grabs my hands that touched his delicious pecs for a nano-second and puts them behind my back. With the other hand he reaches for and lightly holds my neck. It isn't a threat and it feels great. I know the size of that hand and the power of that arm from touching him in the hall on the way in. It makes me melt. I actually whimper a little and offer him my neck. He nibles, bites, chews his way down and then pushes me to the bed again. He quickly undoes each button, but painfully pauses between each button. He wants me to beg. I ask. I plead. I BEG for him to hurry. To show me his Adonis torso. To wrap me up in the meat he's built over years!After I actually get on the floor, on my knees, and ask again, he slowly opens the shirt. Oh, shit. I'm nearly cumming without touch. He is all at once, huge, ripped, tanned, manly, perfectly hairy, and flexed! He crunches down into a most muscular as I had told him that was my favorite pose. He invites me to join him. I stand up...ask just how much he weighs. 265 is the response. I start to swim in facts, in the scent, the sight, the sound of his voice and then he reaches down and solidly grabs my turgid penis. His other hand takes its place on my neck again and he pulls me close, flexes for all he's worth and bounces his pecs in my face and breathes in my ear as he tightly pumps my dick. I immediately, without reservation and yet completely against my will, arch back in to the orgasm of my life. My first with a man. My first.Oh, God. Let it be true...there he is walking through the lobby door...so far so good!
  17. louisbalfour

    Plane Muscle

    Trying something different between chapters of ‘Flex for class’. The scenario and protagonist for this are lifted from a fbb worship story I found on literotica called Best Seat On The Plane. This has always been a scenario I’ve dreamt of, so rewrote with a male bodybuilder and embellished a bit. I hope the original author doesn’t mind. Original story is here: https://www.literotica.com/s/best-seat-on-the-plane Plane Muscle John was sitting in Chicago airport at his gate, waiting patiently for his flight to Washington D.C. He had a conference the next day and was flying in the night before. Looking round at the people waiting for flights, he spotted a man who immediately stood out to him. His cock jolted in his pants at the sight of a huge bodybuilder less than 10 feet away. John had a secret love for well built men, the bigger the better. He had no idea why he loved men with muscles so much, but he learned over time not to fight his passion but embrace it. The crazy thing was, he had never met a bodybuilder before! His only experience was looking at pictures on the internet, or occasionally seeing one on the street or in a shopping centre. He always dreamed about what it would be like to meet one, and maybe even feel their muscles. The man he spotted was standing at the end of one of the aisles of seats looking at his phone. He was definitely a bodybuilder, and looked absolutely massive from where John was sitting. After the initial blur of seeing his presence from the corner of his eye, what John noticed was the size of his legs, which were visible because he was wearing mid length black shorts. His legs looked smooth with huge quad muscles, the bulges of which remained visible even under the material of the shorts. Just from standing there he could see incredible definition. When he would shift his weight from one leg to the other his muscles would contract and harden. His calves were also well defined and thick with size. He was wearing a lightweight long sleeve jacket, but he could see big round shoulders and beefy arms. The jacket draped around the waist, but everywhere else it hugged the man’s upper body tightly and was tautly stretched around his huge delts, arms, chest and back muscles. The bodybuilder swung round, now exposing to John how wide he was from the back. The seams of the jacket showed signs of unthreading due to the huge forces on them. He swung back and resumed poking his phone. Without thinking John got up to get a better view of him. He was pretending to do something with his phone as he got within a couple of feet. Just being this close to his incredible size was getting John excited as he positioned himself behind the mountain of muscle. He looked bigger than any man John had ever seen, or maybe it was because he had never seen such a huge bodybuilder this close before. John was an average man, standing 5’9” tall and weighing 150 pounds. Standing this close to the bodybuilder he had never felt weaker or smaller, the bigger guy having at least 5 inches on him. He was handsome too, with olive skin and a shaved head. His facial features were quite intense and masculine with hazel eyes. John couldn't place his nationality but guessed at French or Mediterranean. Trembling, he took a closer look from the side, and could see he was holding his ticket in a meaty hand. He could just make out they were on the same flight and his seat was 1A. John was disappointed their seats weren't closer, but bristled at the thought of sharing a plane with this goliath. But then he got an idea! It was a long shot but worth a go. "Hi may I help you?" The woman behind the counter asked. "Hello, I was wondering if it was possible to upgrade to first class?" John asked. "Let me see." The attendant started punching on her keyboard. "The farther up the better, something like 1A." John was hoping this would be enough to get close. "1A is taken but how about 1B. The upgrade fee is $199." The attendant offered. John's heart nearly leapt out of his chest it was beating so fast. He tried his best to calm himself so he didn't look crazy, but he was sure his legs might give out any second. "That would be perfect." He said. What a small price to pay to get the best seat on the plane he thought to himself. He walked back over to the seats to sit down and calm himself. He made sure that he could still see the muscular man from his vantage point. As he held his phone still looking at it, he could see massive mounds bulging under the sleeves. He had to be a super heavyweight John thought. The wait to board the plane seemed like it took forever as John sat impatiently sneaking peaks at the man. Finally the announcement was made that pre-boarding would begin. He looked over to see the muscle bull stand and make his way to boarding. Watching so much dense hard muscle move like this in real life was surreal! John tried to casually get up and fall in in line behind him. The way his heart was racing he was sure it was less than casual. He was directly behind the guy now, taking in his massive frame. His shoulders were so wide and round John couldn't believe his eyes. He must have been in off season to be this big, and yet he still had great separation in his legs. It didn't take long to get through the line and soon they were making their way down the jet bridge to the plane. The bodybuilder walked with confident, heavy stomps in front of John, his arms hanging away from his body due to his huge lats. John couldn't take his eyes off the calves that flexed with every step, and his dick chubbed in his tight briefs as the sight. As they approached the cabin door, passengers boarded the plane and were greeted by the attendant. The muscle man however, had to turn side on to walk through. John could not believe how thick this guy’s upper body was. Side on he was as wide as a normal man! John had never flown first class before and felt like royalty. In front of him, the bodybuilder was already putting his carry-on in the overhead compartment and taking his seat by the window. John put his luggage above as well and looked down to see the man struggling to take off his jacket. What an amazing sight. He looked hard as a rock and bulging all over. He wasn’t contest ready as John thought he might have been before, but not in the depths of off season some bodybuilders got into. He had that jacked roid cycle look, like he was constantly swelling up. Underneath the jacket he had on a tight fitting white t shirt. His arms, shoulders, and chest were exploding out of it. He must have felt John staring because he looked up and gave him a warm smile. "Is this your seat?" The huge man asked, pointing to 1B. John realized he was staring and snapped out of his trance to take the seat next to him. His voice was masculine, deep and… French! Good guess “.... um, Yep! 1B! ….That’s me!” John sank into the seat, mortified at what he had said. He didn't know what to say or do and just sat in his seat looking straight ahead, dick throbbing and twitching between his thigh and jeans. "Can I get you something to drink?" The flight attendant bent down to ask them. "Sure I’ll have a water." "I'll also have a water." John reflexively responded. He was so nervous as he sat there looking straight ahead. He realized that the guy might be thinking he is one of those closed minded people that disagree with his lifestyle. He was trying to think of anything to do or say but his mind was blank. The flight attendant came back with their waters and John and the man thanked her. The seats in first class were a little bigger than back in coach, yet the muscular man was so big he filled the entire seat and still managed to push up against John's shoulder and arm. John was in a light oxford button down, but the electricity off feeling the man swelling up against his shoulder was palpable. He found himself leaning away because he was so nervous to even touch him. The huge muscle mountain must have caught on… "Hey, I'm Alex by the way." he had his hand extended toward John in a greeting. It was huge, thick and looked textured through years of work outs. John took it and the man shook his hand firmly. "um...John." "Nice to meet you John, are you heading to D.C for business or pleasure." he asked in a deep French accent. John was so thankful he was breaking the ice with casual conversation. His hazel eyes had a kindness to them that instantly made John relax a little. "Business, I am attending a conference tomorrow." He offered. "What is your business?" he asked. "I am a software engineer for a mid-sized company. We provide contracting services for telecom companies mostly." "Interesting." he said. John was sure this must have been the most boring conversation, but Alex had an honesty to him that made even John’s boring job sound like it was fascinating. John was doing everything in his power to maintain eye contact. He wanted so badly to sneak a peek at Alex’s gigantic body but knew that he needed to play it cool. "How about you? Business or pleasure?" He asked. "A little of both, I have never been to D.C. so I am hoping to see the sights. The company I work for has it's headquarters there and I will be doing some training on Monday." "Oh, so you have the whole weekend to enjoy the city." "Yes, that's the plan." he said. "I lived in D.C. for about 5 years, it is a great city to explore." John offered. "Any suggestions? I didn't really plan anything, I just decided to fly in early and look around." John was more relaxed now as he was talking to Alex about something he knew about. People were still boarding the plane as John started telling him all his favourite spots in the D.C. Alex listened to everything he was saying with rapt attention. John was 30 and was pretty sure Alex was around the same age. His skin had that mature look to it but with no visible signs of aging, yet given his muscle size he must have been bodybuilding for a long time. “Sorry you have to be sat next to the big lug by the way. I’ll try not to squash you too much!” Alex offered with smile and a giggle, a routine John felt like he might have had to do before. He was as charming as he was big! “Oh! No problem. Anyway, I hardly take up any space” “Thank you John! Some people… are not so nice about it” “Well, it’s fine by me” John smiled, relaxing back into his seat and no longer feeling awkward at feeling Alex’s awesome body swelling over the armrest in to him. In fact, it felt amazing. The cabin doors were closed now and John felt the familiar feeling of the plane backing up away from the terminal. Alex took a deep breath, his incredible chest and shoulders swelling upward and outward, pushing against John so that he could feel the dense thickness of muscle again. They were silent for a few minutes as Alex looked ahead. "John, I have a confession to make." Alex said. "What’s that?" John asked, intrigued. "I don't fly very much and I get nervous when the plane is taking off. I am usually fine when we are in the air, I just… I need to get through the first part." he was gripping the armrest showing thick ropes of muscle popping out on his forearm, a bead of sweat on his forehead. John’s eyes widened at the sight as he snuck a peak when Alex wasn't looking. He must have lingered too long because when he looked up, Alex was looking at him through the corner of his eyes with interest. "It helps me to talk. It takes my mind off it." he continued. "OK, well, I’ll see what I can do." John said. "Also…” Alex paused, “You can ask me about my muscles, it's OK. Most people don't know what to make of me or are too scared to ask." He was so forward and honest. John wasn't sure how to respond. Should he come clean and be honest, or hide his true feelings on the subject? “Oh, well people can be intimidated to talk about that sort of thing!” John offered as a halfway house. “And plus, well you are huge!” Alex only nodded back. "Actually Alex. I… I have a confession as well." John finally said. "What is it?" Alex asked with authentic interest, pleased to be distracted. "I am a huge fan of bodybuilders." John said. Alex’s face softened hearing this, and he temporarily forgot about the take off. "How big of a fan? Who was the last man to win the Mr Olympia?" Alex quizzed him, half joking, half intrigued to see how genuine John was being. "That's easy, I could list every man who won Mr Olympia." John retorted. "OK smarty pants, list them for me." And off John went listing every Mr O from Larry Scott to Phil Heath, even throwing in the odd fact or personal favourite along the way. "Wow, that's better than I can do, I think you proved your point." he looked at John surprised. "So when you were giving me those funny looks before..." Fuck! How far back had he noticed? "Sorry about that. It's just that you’re clearly a bodybuilder and I was kind of… awestruck." John admitted. “I’ve… never been this close up to a guy as big as you before. It’s … well, incredible” he gulped. Alex nodded his head understandingly. "I am a bodybuilder; I have been training hard core for over 12 years now." he said matter of factly. "Wow, that's amazing. I have the most respect for your discipline. I workout with weights on and off but can never keep the focus to achieve what you have. Have you ever competed?" John asked. "No, I do it for myself. I have never had the courage to get up in front of a huge crowd like that." "I am sure if you did you would thrash the competition." John stated Alex looked over at him and smiled. "Thanks; I really appreciate an expert like you saying that. What else do you want to know." he offered. "How strong are you?" Alex’s smile got even bigger, as he turned slightly in his seat, the view of his body getting wider and wider to John. "Very strong." he said confidently, leaning toward John as he said it. John just stared back and gulped. All this talk about Alex’s muscles was getting him hard, but the way he leaned toward him now sent blood pumping through his cock. "I have never completely maxed myself out because it can be dangerous, but I don't think there are many men who come even close to my strength." "Really?" John was looking at him with his eyes wide and mouth open. "Really." Alex answered. "How much are we talking?" John asked. "I have pushed out over 500 lbs. I had spotters, but I did it completely unassisted." "Whoaaa." John was completely shocked. "I can squat 700 lbs. safely, but I wouldn't want to go higher." "That's...crazy." John managed to say. He looked down at Alex’s massive legs. They were like tree trunks and dwarfed his own legs by comparison. Up close they were slightly hairy, covered by paper thin skin. Three large mounds were visible on the top of each leg and John could only imagine how they would look if he flexed. Alex saw him looking at legs. “I have to wear shorts most of the time. Trousers and jeans tend not get round these” he said, patting his thigh lightly. Alex listed off some of his other accomplishments which were just stupendous. He had the strength of a powerlifter but the definition and thickness of an off season bodybuilder, which made for the most amazing combination. John’s dick throbbed as Alex described some of his feats of strength. There was one occasion where Alex had been spotting another guy on the bench. The man was struggling on his last set pressing 100kg. Alex had lifted the bar off him with one hand. Some of the other members noticed and challenged him to curl the weight with one arm. He had knocked out ten reps with almost no effort. On another occasion, someone had parked the front of their car across two parking bays. Alex had lifted the front half of the car and dragged it across into one bay. The airplane was lining up on the runway now and getting ready to rev the engines for take off. Up to this point Alex hadn't noticed and been completely relaxed talking to John. The plane started to accelerate and Alex couldn't help but notice the plane was preparing for take off. He closed his eyes and pushed his head back in the head rest again. His entire body seemed to tense up and John couldn't help but notice how much bigger his arms swelled up. He had a vice grip on the armrests again, causing his forearms to harden and flex. His upper body exploded with muscle as he tensed up. His biceps bulged, showing massive size and formed into huge mounds the size of grapefruits. His pecs looked amazing as they stretched the white cotton even further as they swelled up. His tight white top did nothing to hide Alex’s huge muscles, especially now as the fear taking over his body made him swell up bigger than ever. His chest was fully flexed, almost hitting his chin. John was drinking in every second he had to get a good look at his body. Alex’s shoulders were massive and looked like they were carved out of stone. Suddenly he was snapped out of his hypnotised state, as a disturbing sound filled the air. It was like metal popping. Alex’s grip on the armrests was getting tighter, his thick strong fingers digging into the steel. John’s mouth dropped open at what he was seeing. Alex was crushing the armrests in his hands. The first class plane seats were constructed of thick steel plates, but right now, Alex was crushing them in his hands like John would a juice carton. Alex’s huge forearms had so much power in them, he had nearly formed a fist. His face was scrunched up and he was emitting a low pitched growl, like he was about to set a new world record for a strength record. John tried a relaxation trick. He counted back from 10, and told Alex a fact about D.C in between each number, assuring him that when they got to number 1, they’d be up in the air, flying smoothly. John made each fact a little longer. Alex continued to scrunch up the inch thick steel plates into a ball, and was now breathing very heavily. It made John’s cock swell and release precum. Alex had not lied when he said there weren’t many men as strong as him; and now John was seeing it first hand. The relaxation technique was working though, and Alex’s face gradually returned to its handsome relaxed position, his eyes still closed, his pumped chest still flexed, touching his chin. The plane was almost done climbing as it started to level out. John looked at his handsome face and could see his full lips were slightly parted, his breath almost panting. His muscles started to relax as he calmed down. He lowered his head and opened his eyes looking over to John and gave him a warm smile. "Thank you for taking my mind off flying. I would have been a mess if it wasn't for you." he said as he reached over and squeezed John's hand. John flinched slightly. This muscle bull’s hand had just crushed an armrest into smithereens, and now it was wrapping round his own. But Alex knew his strength, and was gentle to his smaller friend. John's hands were in his lap trying desperately to cover up the raging erection he had from the sight of Alex’s feat of strength. Alex’s big hand lingered on John’s for a couple of seconds as he looked into John’s eyes and finally removed his hand. He felt so relaxed with John, and found himself enjoying a flight for the first time in his life. "It was my pleasure, I enjoy talking to you." John said as he returned a smile. “buuuut, something’s a mess!” he added, nodding to the armrests. Alex gave another broad smile “c’est risque professionnel” he retorted, like this might not be the first time something like this happened. “Wow. That is some occupational hazard!” John replied, running his hand over the crumpled up remains of the armrest. Alex raised his eyebrows, impressed he didn’t have to translate for his new companion. Nevertheless, he wanted to move the conversation to John for a bit. He changed gears. "So tell me, when did you become a fan of bodybuilding?" "Uh...since I was born I guess. I have memories of admiring muscle on men as far back as I can remember." John admitted. "Really?" Alex was getting more intrigued by the minute "Yeah, it's kind of a rare thing I guess; to see someone of your size and musculature, so there are a few vivid memories that stand out. Once I remember being at a restaurant when I was very young, maybe 10 or 11, and there was a waiter that had a visible bicep bulging through his white shirt. He wasn’t a bodybuilder like you, but I noticed it bulge even more when he was carrying the heavy trays of food around. I remember watching him the whole time just waiting to see if I could get another view of his bicep." Alex was nodding his head as he looked at him with interest. “So, how do you know it’s muscle you have an interest in and not tight white shirts?” To John’s delight, Alex bounced his pecs one at a time as he said this, emphasising just how tight his shirt was over his gargantuan body. John teetered. “I never thought of that! Next time I’ll ask the waiter to try a different shirt on, so I can check your theory” Alex treated him to the most adorable little chuckle he had ever seen. John’s heart began to flutter as he continued. It was almost therapeutic having never talked to anyone about this. "To a lesser extent, I also remember World’s Strongest Man at a young age. The strongmen looked amazing to me; the way their huge bodies loomed over the presenters, and the incredible amounts of weight they could move. It was like waking up for the first time when I saw them” “So then, why do you say to a lesser extent?” Alex asked. “Well, only a few strongmen had the amazing physique of a bodybuilder, and they tended not to be the strongest ones. In fact, I’ve never been aware of anyone who combined the physique of a Mr Olympia with the raw strength of a World’s Strongest Man…” John somewhat trailed off realising that he might now be sitting next to the type of man he just described. He paused, not sure if he should continue. He didn't want to scare Alex off. "I know what you mean, I had similar thoughts, although from a different perspective. As a boy I remember seeing really huge men and I found their strength fascinating. Especially feeling like I could be even bigger and stronger than them one day. So when was the first time you saw a bodybuilder?" Alex asked. "I was a teenager, flipping through the channels and stumbled upon a Mr O competition. It was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen. The men were amazing, like… prize bulls! I remember seeing Nasser el Sonbaty for the first time and being in complete awe that a man could have muscle development like that." John froze. “Muscle bulls”! Would Alex take that as an insult? "Who won that year?" Alex asked. John continued, relieved "I remember like it was yesterday, it was an interesting time that I came in the middle of. It was Dorian Yates. Remember, I had never seen men with muscle like this before and I remember being very confused. To me it seemed obvious that Dorian or Nasser should win, their muscles were unreal, like nothing I had ever seen." "Oh yeah, that was the time they were trying to shift away from the muscle freaks." Alex added. "Ha! I don’t think it worked. All I knew at that moment was how incredibly muscled and strong they looked." "Then what?" Alex prodded. "As a teenager I had just witnessed the most incredible sight I had ever seen. Now I was looking for more. I found a store that sold what I think was the greatest magazine at the time. Flex. It was really hard to find where I lived, but it was awesome. Then, at school there was a boy who got into lifting weights. He got pretty big, but again, never approached IFBB pro level, like you” John didn't tell him about some of the videos he used to order. Mostly workout and lifestyle videos the Olympia contestants used to release in the 90s. John would whack off to them, loving being able to see these huge monsters pump up and pose, grunting all the while. "I kept my eye open for anything else on TV, but it was like the well dried up. There were a few smaller shows that I found, but that was pretty much it. Now years later I know that I came in at the end of its initial popularity, or at least it's exposure was limited." He finished. “And how did it make you feel, John?” Alex asked, his eyes twinkling and intense. “Uuh. Good. I felt good. Seeing them was like art”. It was the best compromise he could think of to say at the time. John was quiet, he felt like he had done a lot of talking and was curious what Alex had to say about what he said. "I love how you describe your passion for muscle. So simple and pure. I agree with you, it's like art. I feel like I am an artist molding my body. For me I didn't see a bodybuilder till I was almost 14. I already knew it was something I wanted and seeing it for real changed my life. At the gym they had pictures of bodybuilders and I would look at that and dream of having muscles like that for myself. Feeling my muscles grow and thicken at that age was amazing! It's hard to explain, I have just always wanted to be well built and strong as a … ox." He gave John a smile and a wink at the last bit. "It's just who we are so why fight it." John commented, as much to himself as to Alex. "So what about you, you look like you are in shape, how do you keep so nice and trim?" Alex asked. "I have been working out, on and off for about 5 years. I would love to be huge myself but my body just didn’t respond. Couldn’t keep the weight on." He said, dejected. "Maybe you just need the right teacher, who have you worked with?" Alex asked. "Nobody, I just do my own research and try to figure it out myself." John admitted. "I think we just found the problem. I have always had people helping me at my gym, nothing beats someone with experience." "How long have you been training?" John asked. "I have been hard-core training for about 12 years now. I had a pretty good base when I started, I was already a very strong boy. I started lifting when I was a teenager. When I was about 16, a bodybuilder at my gym started to help me train and I got the right diet and exercise program and started to really make gains." he said proudly. “In two years I was bigger than most of the other men who used the gym. Some didn’t like an 18 year old boy being one of the biggest and strongest guys there, so I learned early not to take offence if people objected to my big muscles.” Alex really liked talking about his past, and John was hanging on every word. To hear how Alex was able to transform his body into the man he saw before him was the most fascinating story to John While Alex was talking about his life, the trials and tribulations of growing so huge, he would move his hands around for emphasis. John would try to catch a glimpse here and there when he thought he wasn't looking. Alex either didn't notice or didn't care because he didn't mention how John’s eyes were darting all over his body. It was incredible to watch his biceps grow and form as he moved his arms around. The conversation drifted to other topics and the pair started to really hit it off. Pretty soon they were joking and talking like old friends. There seemed to be a mutual connection; John couldn't help but notice Alex would reach out and touch his hand or leg. It was like lightning when he touched him. The pilot came over the cabin speaker to announce that they would be landing in D.C. in about 20 minutes. John could see Alex tense up with the news as he pushed his head back in the seat to try and calm himself. John felt what was left of the shared armrest. How had Alex crunched this up like Play dough? It was solid steel to John, albeit it now with the dips and grooves of Alex’s fingers. Alex held John’s hand over the hand rest, and after a few seconds of pleasure at this feeling, John thought it might be best to get his hand out of the way. Alex spoke. "John, can I ask you something?" he said. "Sure." Alex lowered his voice, and again, leaned in close to John "What would you do if I flexed my arm for you?" John was too shocked to even respond as he sat there contemplating what to say. He could no longer, and no longer wanted, to hide his excitement at the mere mention of Alex’s muscles. He instantly got an extremely hard erection. And this time Alex didn't hide the fact that he noticed. He looked right at John’s crotch and smiled at him. Alex continued, "The way you talk about bodybuilders and muscle… I have a hunch you would really enjoy it. And I have another confession:" he paused "I would enjoy it too." John swallowed hard staring back into those alluring eyes. "I would… yes, I would like that." Alex looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. The other passengers were snoozing or focused on their devices. The flight attendants were doing their last minute checks and taking their seats around the corner. He stretched his arm out over John’s body, the back of his fist grazing John’s hard on. Slowly and with intent he pumped his bicep up, 1, 2, then 3 times, flexing hard the last time, the round hard muscle pushing the fabric of his stretchy T to it’s limit. "Go ahead.” He said “Touch it." John reached his shaking hands round cupping Alex’s amazing peak with one, and feeling the huge hanging tricep with the other. It literally felt like a rock was under his skin. With both hands wrapped around he couldn't touch his fingers because of the immense size. He slid his hands up feeling Alex’s shoulders, again it took both hands to span his incredible size. He could feel the ripples of muscle forming ridges and valleys all along his boulder sized muscle. "That feels so good." Alex whispered. "Do you like what you feel?" "It's better than my wildest dreams." John whispered back. Alex moaned and started pumping his bicep making it slowly grow and swell up more. John moved his hand back down so he could feel the transformation. These had to be the biggest arms he’d ever seen, he knew they were big but seeing them flexed he couldn't recall anything so huge. John let out a moan of pleasure as he felt Alex’s rock hard bicep under the warm skin. He could feel the power emanating from his arm as it stood unmoving and flexed. Alex had been watching his muscles pump up, and John’s hands moving over them. Now he looked up to take in his admirer’s face, and felt his heart flutter for the impact he knew his power was having. Alex held his other hand over John’s on his bicep. Him, feeling John feeling his bicep. “What do they feel like John?” “They’re… they’re so incredibly hard. Big and hard. I can feel how powerful they are just by touching them” “Hmmmmm…” Alex purred at John’s description “John, feel my strong forearms too” His hand clasped around the huge thickness of Alex’s immense forearms. They were bigger than most guys biceps. Alex moved his fist around, rippling the cords of muscle and veins around in John’s hands. “Squeeze it. See if you can make a dent” John gripped the wrist and upper forearm with all his strength. He didn’t move Alex’s muscle one iota. Then suddenly he was squashing the muscle as Alex stopped flexing. The doughy muscle still felt powerful and grainy. Then BAM! Alex flexed again and they were rock hard. His fist was still straight up in the air flexing as he opened his hand and reached over to caress John's cheek. John whimpered at his touch, his lips parting. Alex moved the hand behind John’s neck and squeezed slightly, then began pulling the smaller man towards him. They both started leaning in and locked lips in the most passionate kiss John had ever had. Alex’s lips were full and strong as they connected together with the feeling of so much emotion. It was like they were two lost souls that finally completed each other. The plane was rocking in it's final approach but in that moment they were in their own world. They kissed passionately for a couple of minutes until Alex pulled back before things got out of hand. They were forehead to forehead now looking at each other as they were coming down from their high. "Wow." Was all Alex could manage to say. "Yeah." John said back between heavy breaths. Alex took one of John's hands and placed it on his massive chest. John could feel his heart racing beneath multiple layers of dense muscle. "Do you feel that, my heart is racing right now." Alex said. John nodded emphatically as they were gazing at each other. Alex's chest started rising and hardening under John’s hand. The shirt looked like it was stretching to it's limit as his pecs were pushing out, causing the shirt to push down like his pecs couldn't be contained. John felt all over the hard ripped surface of Alex’s chest, enjoying the deep valley between the two enormous mounds. Alex playfully bounced each pec, alternating back and forth causing them to rise and fall. He never stopped looking at John as he watched the pure wonder and enjoyment he was able to give him with his body. He could see the spell he was casting on John as he truly transported him out of reality. Alex relaxed back into his seat to allow John to calm down before he got too excited. John looked up and met his gaze. They both leaned in again and shared another passionate kiss. The plane had landed now as Alex realized for the first time that he had made it through with no worries. The first time ever. John put his head on Alex’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around the massive arm like it was a teddy bear. He felt safe and protected. "Thank you for taking my mind off the flight. I have never been so good during a landing, I didn't even notice we were on the ground." he said. "Are you kidding me. You just made my biggest dream a reality, I should be thanking you." John replied. They sat there content for a moment before Alex spoke up again. "John, would you...do you want to hang out when we get off the plane?" John looked up stunned. "Yes, whatever you are up for I am in." He wasn't sure what he had in mind but the thought of spending more time with Alex was all that mattered to him. "I didn't really plan out my first couple of days, I was just going to take a chance, I don't even book a hotel." "Uh...well I can help you find a hotel." John offered. "Where are you staying?" he asked. "The Washington Hotel on K street" John answered. "How about we share a cab and I will see if they have any rooms available." "Sure." He responded. They were like two love birds cuddling and chatting as the plane made its way to the gate. They were the first to exit the cabin and hurried down the jet bridge. Once in the terminal John took charge having been here so many times. Alex was happy to let him be in control, relaxing at not having to worry where he would go or what was coming next. The airport was small and close to the city. Neither of them had checked baggage so they walked to the exit where they got a cab to the city. Alex took John’s hand in the cab, gently squeezing it. John got hard again, remembering that just a few hours earlier that same hand had demolished a solid piece of metal. They didn't talk much in the cab but continued holding hands and looking at each other every once in a while exchanging smiles. It was past rush hour so took no time for the cab to get to the hotel where John was staying. John paid the cab and the pair walked into the hotel lobby making their way to the front desk. John went first and got his arrangements all set. After he was done he pointed out a seat where he went to sit down and wait for Alex to see if he could get a room. He watched Alex at the counter still amazed at how handsome he was as he talked to the hotel desk clerk. It didn't take long and soon he was walking toward John at the bench. His quads were massive and John still couldn’t believe how they bulged with each step. "They are all booked up." he said. "Oh.. What do you want to do?" John asked unsure how to play it. "Would you mind if we go up to your room so I can figure out what to do next?" he responded. "Of course, sure. Let's go." They made their way to the elevators. Alex took his hand as they walked and gave it a little squeeze as he looked down at him. "Thanks for helping." "Whatever you need, I'm here to help." As they were standing waiting for the elevators John could feel an electricity in the air. Alex was standing close, his freakishly thick forearms brushing against John’s. The bell dinged. They were joined by others in the elevator, so neither of them talked but they kept looking at each other, smiling. Alex pressed his body against John’s and rubbed his back lovingly. The doors opened and John led the way to his room. He swiped the card to unlock the door and opened it for Alex as he motioned for him to go in. Alex strode in and John followed, flipping on the lights to get a good look at the room. The minute the door swung shut, Alex turned around to face John. There was a pause of a few seconds as the two men took each other in. Then, Alex moved forward and effortlessly picked John up so he was holding him in his arms. John wrapped his arms around Alex’s thick neck as they drew in to kiss. This was even more passionate than on the plane as their tongues explored each others mouths. Alex’s jaw and even tongue felt muscular to John. He was certainly a dominant kisser. The sexual tension had been building and was finally being released as they let go of their inhibitions. "I want to show you my body." Alex said, panting. "I think you will be blown away." John nodded vigorously at this suggestion, once again lost for words at Alex’s amazing frankness about the power his body would have. Alex set him down on the bed and took a step back “You like muscle? Watch this” Alex said with cock of his head. Then, he slowly raised his arms and flexed. Two loud pops were head as the sleeves of Alex’s jacket popped at the peak. “Nnnmmgh Yeah!” He growled “What about bodybuilder shoulders?” He brought his arms down into a most muscular. Two more pops were heard as his delts exploded through the jacket. He turned around and intensified the pose. A long rip suddenly appeared on the back of the jacket and continued to grow as Alex flex harder. He grabbed what was left of the material and tore it off his body. Crossing his arms over his body, he slowly peeled off his shirt, revealing freakishly developed muscles covered in a light layer of hair. He unbuckled his belt and pushed the waistband down slightly, but the shorts stayed put, clinging around his huge butt muscles and thighs which would not allow them to drop. He nodded down at them, indicating John should take them off. Tugging the shorts off over Alex’s immense thighs felt incredible to John. And he couldn’t help noticing that Alex was tenting in his tight grey briefs, a spot of precum showing through. When he was done he stood there, body tensed like he was standing on a bodybuilding stage letting John drink him in. He was massive but had nice definition; the off season roided look was John’s favourite. His shoulders were extremely wide with big round delts. Sitting on top of his shoulders were gigantic, thick round traps that were bulging on either side of his 20 inch neck. John could see huge lats flaring out on his sides causing his arms to hang outward instead of down. They were so wide it made his waist look small even though John could tell it was thickly muscled. He looked like he had at least an 8 pack and his waist was nicely bulging with the beginning of an HGH belly. His obliques were so thick the gaps looked like they could fit John’s entire hand. His chest was wide and massive with undulating rock hard pecs. The smallest movement would make his chest twitch and ripple. His massive tree trunk legs balanced out his frame. John could see deep grooves separating each individual muscle making him look like a living anatomy chart. "You need to get more comfortable." Alex commanded as he moved closer to John and started taking his clothes off until he was down to his pants, like Alex. John’s massive erection was screaming against his cotton underwear and Alex grabbed onto it with both hands and started stroking it lovingly. His own erection was the crowning glory of his thick muscular body. It was so pumped that the briefs material was stretching away from his body, creating a gap between the waist band and his blocky abs. "I think we need some oil" he let go of John's erection, opened his bag and pulled out a little bottle of oil, handing it to John. "Rub me with this." he ordered. John wasted no time pouring it into his hand and started rubbing him all over. He loved how Alex’s skin was like supple calf leather stretched tight over grainy rock. John was in heaven feeling every inch of Alex’s hard physique. Not even flexing Alex’s muscles were still hard. "Oh my god your muscles are magnificent. Your arms look like they could be as big as another bodybuilders legs." He said as he tried to wrap his hands around Alex’s gigantic arm. "John; they are! I think my measurements are closest to Dorian Yates at the peak of his 95 off season right now, when he was in his prime. Except two areas, our height and waist size are different. He was 6 feet and I am 6 foot 3 and my waist is about 36 inches right now." Alex brought his arm up and flexed it, showing it's full size which was breathtaking. "I am proud to say my arms just this week hit the 23 inch mark." John stood there completely in shock by his measurements. It made sense because he could see Alex was huge, but hearing his size just stopped him in his tracks. "When I was 16 I already had really nicely developed arms that measured 12 inches with a nice little bicep peak. I started training serious and grew about an inch a year. I never plateaued and still feel like I can grow even more.” He flexed a most muscular, letting out an intimidating groan. “I don’t know. I must have good genetics or something. What do you think?” He flexed an arm up in front of John’s face who was taking in every detail. Alex rubbed some of the oil off his body and grabbed ahold of John’s erection again, stroking it up and down with long strokes working the oil in through the cotton fabric. Alex pinched the front of John’s oily, pre cummed underwear with one hand then both. He pulled apart and ripped the front open like it was tissue paper. John’s dick sprung out, leaking another glob of precum. "I want to flex for you John, but I need a good pump first, will you help me?" he asked staring down into John’s eyes with an alluring power. "Y..Yes!" John stammered. "Call me your Giant Muscle Bull. I think it is fitting." he ordered. "Yes my Giant Muscle Bull!" John responded. Alex stood up straight and covered his face with the remains of John’s briefs. He took a deep breath, held it in, then let out a deep, powerful sigh. He repeated this three times, while rubbing his cock on the outside of his own underwear with his thick thumb. He threw the remains of John’s briefs on the floor and layed on his belly in push up position. "I need more weight for my pump, lay on my back while I do a couple of sets." John did as he was instructed. He laid on Alex’s back feeling the incredibly hard muscles beneath him. His cock slid nicely between Alex’s hard butt cheeks over his sweat drenched underwear, and he could feel him tightening and loosening giving the most incredible sensation through his dick. It was like Alex was giving him a hand job with his butt. He put his hands on Alex’s massive shoulders to steady himself as he started pumping up and down with slow controlled reps. It was like some new incredible sex position John had never done as he rode this muscle beast up and down. His butt flexed with every exertion continuing the incredible feeling on John’s cock. After 20 reps he paused. John took this opportunity to feel around his arms and shoulders, amazed by the hardness. Alex moaned underneath him at the sensation of the smaller man massaging his muscles. "Mmmm...that feels so good, I love it when you touch me." he said breathlessly. John rested his face between the two massive trap muscles and not being able to resist anymore started to kiss them uncontrollably. Alex moaned with pleasure at being kissed and worshiped. "Hold on tight for another set baby." he said. With no hesitation he raised them up again starting slow and building speed. John took his advice and wrapped his arms around Alex so that his hands came underneath. He cupped his massive pec muscles with his hands and held on tight. The feeling of Alex’s rock hard chest under his hands and the way his cock was being rubbed by Alex’s cotton covered butt was beginning to prove too much for John, who could feel a huge load brewing in his balls. Alex was pumping them both up and down in a smooth rapid pace. His pecs felt like massive boulders with ridges running all along the surface. After some reps he finally stopped and dropped down to his belly again. He began grinding his dick into the floor, the alternative movement squeezing John’s cock even more between the hard butt cheeks. "Hold on tight." he said. With John still on Alex’s back he got to all fours and stood up as if he wasn't carrying a thing. John wrapped his legs around Alex’s waist. He held on tight around Alex’s swelling muscular neck as Alex lowered himself into a squat position and straightened again. John's cock was rubbing up and down with every dip which was enhanced by the oil. Alex did 20 dips with John on his back and showed no sign of slowing down. John was starting to moan as he felt himself getting close to a release. It was like the thick muscles running down the bodybuilder’s back were made to massage John’s cock. Alex must have sensed how excited John was getting and stopped his squats. "Come here baby, let me help you and get an arm workout at the same time." he motioned for him to come around and face him. John was amazed at how effortlessly Alex was able to lift and move him around like he was light as a feather. They kissed once more, enjoying the feeling of being in each other’s arms. They did that for a couple of minutes and then Alex brought him up to readjust. This time he held him so that John was cradled in his huge arms with his cock standing straight up like a flagpole. They paused and stared at each other for a moment, John not quite believing this man could hold him so easily like a child, Alex thrilled to be holding such a grateful worshipper in his arms. It was a curling position for Alex and he lifted John and wrapped his mouth around John’s cock and started sucking while he curled him up and down plunging his cock into his mouth with each rep. After a couple of blissful minutes John started shaking and moaning uncontrollably. Alex stopped the reps. “Where baby? Where do you want to cum?” “Abs, rub me against your abs!” John held himself back. He could have cum any time in the last couple of hours, but these last few seconds were the hardest. Alex knew what to do. He repositioned John against his body in the most loving bearhug, one hand under John’s butt, the other around his body, pushing the smaller man’s cock into the ridge between his blocky abs. He rubbed John’s entire body effortlessly up and down the ridges of his thick hard belly. John grabbed a hold of Alex’s pumped rock hard biceps. “You like that baby? You like these jacked hard muscles??” “Uuuuuuh! UU” John forgot language. He forgot everything but the huge hard muscle man now giving him the biggest orgasm of his life. He blew his initial load and it was so powerful it shot up through the gap between Alex’s thick pecs. Another load of cum oozed out, flowing like lava through the ridges of Alex’s 8 pack. Alex held John tight in his bear hug, enjoying John’s shaking, convulsing body. After a few more seconds he dropped John on the bed and seemed energized by the whole thing. "Oh yeah." he said as he raised his arms up and struck a huge double bicep pose. He looked from one bicep to the other admiring his own body, relishing in the reaction he had just had on the other man. John looked up amazed at the sight before him, as Alex’s cantaloup sized biceps stuck out looking harder than ever. Each bicep had a thick vein that ran along the top and made them look even taller. “350 lbs of rock hard French beef! You wanna touch these muscles again baby??” The sight of his amazing biceps made John hub the last few globs of cum out of his still throbbing cock. He never considered himself a stud in bed, but Alex's amazing body had him so turned on he felt like he could go all night. "Wow, it looks like someone is ready for round 2." Alex said as he was eyeing John’s erect penis. Alex struck another pose, this time bringing his arms down and in front so his traps and pecs were flexing. His chest exploded with shredded muscle forming huge basketball sized mounds. His cleavage pressed tightly together looking like it could crack a walnut. John's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open as he was mesmerized by Alex’s amazing size and development. "Like art?" Alex asked him. "Yes, the most amazing art I have ever seen. You are beautiful my rock hard muscle bull." Alex smiled and struck another pose. He brought his arms over his head and stuck out one of his legs. John didn't know what to look at first. His arms looked even bigger as he put at them on either side of his head. The peaks were bulging out and one of his arms looked bigger than John’s head. He moved his waist around in a sexy slow motion dance flexing his abs and obliques. Each square shaped muscle stuck out in perfect symmetry showing 8 clearly defined abs. Framing them were thick obliques that ran the length of his sides and formed a V down to his now fully pumped dick. The fabric of the tight grey pants had small tears appearing, as his thick muscular cock strained for release. His massive leg was stretched toward John and he could see each quad muscle bulging out causing deep valleys between them. Each muscle was etched with striations that ran up and down showing every muscle fiber in detail. He continued to move from one pose to another giving John the most amazing personal pose down. He moaned and grunted with each pose, getting himself more and more worked up at the power his powerful body was having over his small admirer. "Come to me John and worship my muscles." he commanded. "Yes my Bull" He replied as he stood up to join him. His massive erection was standing straight up as he stood next to Alex. Alex continued to pose for him as John eagerly started to caress and feel him all over driving his cock into Alex’s powerful thighs and obliques. His body was as hard as it looked. John’s hands glided over the smooth oiled skin feeling every detail. They were moaning in unison as each of them were aroused by the other. John thrust his cock against Alex’s tenting grey briefs. They were now soaking wet with sweat and the cum of both men. Alex moaned as he allowed himself to finally flex his cock. As they pressed their bodies together and started to grind, Alex nearly climaxed; his thick muscular dick stood to full attention. He tore off the remains with his hands as he had with John’s. He grabbed the back of John’s head and rubbed the briefs over John’s face. “Take that in baby! Smell your big strong muscle bull’s manly stench. Does it turn you on?” John nodded and moaned, his hands reaching out for Alex’s body to steady himself. Alex threw the pants to the side and John started to kiss Alex all over his body, running his tongue along the deep grooves that his huge muscles formed. The more into his body he got the more Alex responded. It was like he was giving Alex an orgasm without intercoarse as he was roaring for more. "Your muscles are so beautiful and hard!" John said between kisses. Alex responded with an orgasmic moan. He was precumming hard now as he was begging for John to continue. He was flexing harder than ever now, relishing the feeling of hands worshipping his thick dense muscle. His eyes were closed as a feeling of ecstasy washed over his whole body. "Taste me! Touch me!" he demanded. John was kissing Alex’s chest which was exploding with muscle, his huge nipples were engorged and hard. John’s arms were reaching around Alex, holding on to his rock hard glutes so he could grind into him harder. “NNgh.. AAAAAAAaaaaaaargh! FUCK” Alex boomed as his muscular cock exploded cum all over his small worshipper. Alex, who was still moaning aggressively, let out a final thick volley of cum. As he came down from his orgasm, he reached down and started to stroke John's cock. Then, he reached round and grabbed John’s butt. Lifting the smaller man off the floor, he rubbed John’s dick all around his rock hard obliques. He threw John down on the bed and climbed on top of him, letting his weight crush his admirer, feeling their cocks rub against one another. John continued praising his muscles which Alex loved. Alex would flare his lats out so that John could grab onto them like handles. Then he would pinch Alex’s shoulder blades together which would cause all the muscles to bunch up forming a mountain range down the middle. They were orgasming again, not being able to control their desire for each other. Alex was grunting uncontrollably at the peak of another orgasm as John was building to another big release. "I'm cumming!" John yelled with a shaky voice. His hips were thrusting up and into Alex as hard and fast as possible, Alex’s massive 350lbs of muscle providing the most wonderful resistance. Their twitching cocks exploded against each other. Alex reached down and wrapped his big strong hand around both cocks, gently rubbing them both. "I love your cock. I want to feel it grow in my mouth." Alex said. The mere mention of the fact that Alex loved his cock was causing John’s cock to start growing again. Alex moved down and placed John’s semi hard dick in his mouth. Alex moaned in response to his cock filling his mouth. He started licking John’s shaft like a lollipop. "You're just so amazing, I can't contain myself." John responded. He felt like a stud having just cummed twice and already fully erect again. Alex couldn't get enough of sucking his cock as he licked him all over and was moaning with pleasure. Reluctantly he finally took one last suck and started working up the length of John’s body, crawling like a cat on the prowl. His massive body loomed over John as he stared down at him with his amazing hazel eyes. Everytime he looked at John with those piercing eyes it was like time was standing still, he was temporarily paralyzed by their beauty. Alex leaned in and the two shared a passionate kiss. John started to explore Alex’s shoulders and arms as he held himself above him. Everytime he touched Alex he was in sheer awe by his size. "I want to please you my giant muscle bull. I want to make you orgasm again." He begged, realizing Alex had made him cum twice now and he wanted badly to return the favor again "I already have twice my sweet baby, but I would love more attention." he said and rolled off him to lay on his back to allow John to do whatever he wanted. John climbed on Alex and started to kiss all over his chest and fondle his hard pecs. His nipples were still hard as he licked and sucked them all over. As he was fondling his pecs he marveled at how much bigger they were than he realized. Alex loved all the attention and was moaning with pleasure. He reached down and slid his fingers round his dick and started to masturbate. Alex pulled John’s head against his chest as he started to build toward another climax. He was a sexual machine as he begged him to keep sucking his nipples. In no time he was grunting and moaning as another orgasm began to brew in his body. He was breathing heavy now causing his abs to flex and harden showing his incredible development. John ran his hands along Alex’s sides feeling the ripples of his hard obliques as he ran his tongue down the deep valley between his bulging roided abs. John was moaning with delight as he kissed all over Alex’s hard stomach. Alex loved it and was going wild with ecstasy. “John, come up here” Alex started “talk in my ear” Alex was furiously beating off, getting close to cumming again. John was happy to obey his instructions. He talked intently into Alex’s ear as he continued to feel the bodybuilder’s chest and abs. “Alex. You’re my big thick muscle bull and you turn me on so much” John said, as he grinded his dick into Alex’s body “I love feeling your huge muscles and rubbing my dick against your bull body” “Hhnnnnnggh..” Alex had never been this turned on in his life “When you put your arms around me, I know you could crush me with your immense power and strength. You’re so strong and it makes me wanna cum all over you” “Fuuuuuuck YES! Keep going” “On the plane, I was precumming at the sight of you strong hands crush those armrests like they were nothing. I loved looking down at our legs. Yours are double the size of mine. I love licking them and tasting you manly sweat. I love feeling your 350lb frame on top of me. Your lumpy muscles pressing into my weak body. You make me feel like a small boy standing next to the biggest muscle daddy. I love smelling the testosterone leak out with your sweat as you jack off. I love worshipping my big hard bodybuilder” "OH FUCK...YEES! Suck it, SUCK IT" Alex growled out as his ecstasy hit another level. John moved down and placed his mouth around Alex’s pulsating cock, feeling it pump and swell against his tongue and cheeks. Alex reached down and held his head steady as he started to buck uncontrollably into John’s mouth. He was moaning as if possessed, waves of pleasure spreading through his body. John felt his entire throat and mouth fill with shot after shot of ropey cum. Alex’s body juddered and shook as he let out an almighty roar. He had never felt a sensation like this sweet new man had provided. "Uuuuuuuh!! Come here baby." Alex beckoned for him with open arms. John crawled up and the two embraced in a passionate kiss. "You are the perfect man!" John exclaimed. "You are MY perfect man!" Alex responded. They continued kissing with renewed vigor. An unbelievable bond was forming between the couple, the closest thing to love that could be formed in less than 24 hours. Alex’s hand came to rest on John's butt as he spread his legs open to draw him in. John's fully erect and eager penis slid up against Alex’s as the two became one. John lay on Alex, completely spent, his dick throbbing into a semi again as Alex continued to hold him with his massive arms. John felt so safe and content as his full weight lay on top of Alex’s body. "That was the most incredible sex I have ever experienced." Alex admitted. "Me too, you are the most amazing man I have ever met." John replied. They laid like that for a while completely content until they finally had to get up to clean themselves off. "You know you are staying the night here right?" John said to Alex as he was washing his hands looking at his magnificent reflection in the mirror. "Yes my baby." Alex said as he wrapped his arms around John pulling him into a tight embrace. Later they were cuddled in bed, Alex was on his back with one arm around John, the other occasionally flexing or caressing his new lover’s face. John was draped over him with his head on Alex’s chest. They were content laying there enjoying each others touch. Alex broke the silence. "I am really glad you asked me to stay, I have never felt such an amazing connection with anyone like this." "I feel so lucky to have you with me. You are smart and handsome and driven" John said with admiration. Alex chuckled and squeezed him. They looked in each others eyes and shared a deep passionate kiss. "You are the man of my dreams. I have always fantasized about a man who would love my body like you do and worship my muscles. In case you hadn't noticed I get really turned on by the way you react to my body." Alex admitted. "Then we get to fulfill each other's fantasies my bull. You said you still haven't plateaued, how big do you want to get?" John asked. "As big as possible." he said, giving John another kiss.
  18. ravenweremuscle

    Behind the Badge Part 2: Under Arrest

    Wyatt: ‘Ahh shit! I’m sorry Mr. Abrams. You have to know I didn’t mean to hit your assistant like that.’ Corbin: ‘This is it for you Wyatt! That policeman said you deserved another chance, but he was wrong. You are fired and in fact I am calling that precinct right now!’ *picks up office phone and dials precinct* Wyatt: ‘WHAT!? NO? SERIOUSLY, I DIDN’T MEAN TO HIT HIM!’ Corbin: ‘You sit your ass down in that chair young man right now. They will be here shortly.’ *puts phone down and stands in front of his office door* *silence* *several minutes pass and someone knocks on door* *Abrams opens the door* Corbin: ‘Ahh officer, I gave him another chance like you said and he failed miserably. He assaulted my assistant Monroe.’ *points at Wyatt* King: ‘I see. Well I will take care of this then.’ *walks over to Wyatt and pulls him up from his feet* King: ‘Put your hands behind your back…..I SAID BEHIND YOUR BACK!’ Wyatt: ‘Alright, alright I get it. Sheesh!’ *puts hands behind back and King pulls them tight to cuff him* King: ‘No attitude, this isn’t on the freeway genius.’ *pushes Wyatt out of the room* ‘He won’t be a problem anymore.’ Corbin: ‘Well he isn’t coming back here anyway.’ *slams office door* Wyatt: ‘Seriously I didn’t do…..’ *King cuts him off* King: ‘Man, you really need to try and behave yourself. You are going to get yourself in a lot of trouble you know.’ *goes down elevator with Wyatt in front of him* *puts arm on his shoulder* *Wyatt moves forward* King: ‘WYATT, GET THE FUCK BACK WHERE YOU WERE RIGHT NOW!’ *Wyatt rushes back* *King puts both arms on his back* King: ‘DON’T YOU FUCKING MOVE YOU SEXY MANBOY!’ *Wyatt sweats as the gargantuan officer pushes all 300 pounds of him on top of the 175 pound man* *elevator opens and the two men slowly walk out the front entrance of the building* *King opens the side door to the same cruiser as before and pushes Wyatt inside* *he closes the door and gets in the driver side door* King: ‘NO FUCKING TALKING WYATT, YOU HEAR ME?’ Wyatt: ‘Uhhh yeah…..’ *King interrupts* King: ‘WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST SAY?’ *reads Wyatt his Miranda rights* *they arrive at the precinct and King yanks Wyatt out of the car**he directs him inside and takes him into an interrogation room* King: ‘SIT DOWN DUMBASS!’ *pulls a chair up for Wyatt and plops him in it* *he undoes his handcuffs* King: ‘PUT YOUR HANDS ON THE TABLE.’ *Wyatt does it quickly* ‘Now I want to know why you would assault your boss’s assistant.’ Wyatt: ‘He was making fun of me because I was always getting yelled at by my boss so I decked him.’ King: ‘You know you can’t do that Wyatt. You end up sitting him in front of me. Now I have to charge you with assault.’ Wyatt: ‘Aw come on, can’t we do what we did last time?’ *smiles and then winks at King* King: ‘And what did we do last time exactly little man?’ *nods his head at Wyatt and gets him to notice the camera* *Wyatt realizes what he means and shuts up* *knock on the door* Broughton: ‘Officer King, the assistant is here for questioning.’ King: ‘Okay, give me a minute. You don’t move a muscle little man, I will be back shortly.’ *gets up and leaves the room* *thirty minutes pass as Wyatt nearly falls asleep* *King opens the door and pounds on the table* King: ‘HEY DON’T YOU SLEEP ON ME!’ *smiles and takes his uniform jacket off* *he unbuttons the first two buttons which expose his mammoth pecs* *Wyatt stares straight at them* ‘EYES ON ME MANBOY!’ *Wyatt has trouble concentrating but manages to look into King’s eyes* King: ‘So, he told me everything and I think he has a case…..but I also think we can resolve this somehow. This Monroe fella is a bit douchy, but I still don’t see a reason for you to punch him like you did. You left a major bruise on his face.’ Wyatt: ‘Don’t I get a say in this? I mean geez…..’ King: ‘Sure, but I figure you will embellish it so give it your best shot manboy.’ Wyatt: ‘Well like I said…..’ *King stops him and gets behind him* *he whispers something in his ear* King: ‘The camera is off now. You can make a deal with me if you want, but I will make the final decision Wyatt.’ *Wyatt turns his head and smiles* *King walks over to a corner and stands with his arms crossed* King: ‘So what will it be there sir, want to make a deal or not?’ Wyatt: ‘I don’t know what you mean by deal? Is this another favor?’ King: ‘Well it could be, but you will have to sacrifice a little bit of freedom. Are you willing to do that man?’ *Wyatt goes to stand up but King motions for him to remain seated* *The young man looks bewildered* *King winks at him and bounces his pecs strained in his shirt* King: ‘Well, what’s it going to be little man? Deal or no deal?’ Wyatt: ‘I am going to say yes, but I don’t know what you are up to officer?’ King: ‘You said yes, so I am going to cuff you again.’ *gets his cuffs out and makes a motion for Wyatt to put his hands behind his back again* *Wyatt does so as King walks over and cuffs him again* King: ‘GET UP! FOLLOW ME WYATT.’ *King takes him down the hall to a room with a double-sided mirror* *He shows Wyatt that the people in the other room can’t see them* *Wyatt recognizes the guy being interviewed as Monroe* King: ‘Yep, that is the assistant you assaulted. Looks pretty banged up too, but you did something bold. You gave up something you didn’t have to man and I like that.’ Wyatt: ‘Why is he still here anyway? I thought you were done with him?’ King: ‘Well Wyatt, I’m not just a traffic cop, I’m also in charge of the SVU here, so I can tell my partner in there, Jamison, to offer him a deal to drop charges against you.’ Wyatt: ‘Whoa really?’ *ponders for a few seconds* ‘Wait, what is the catch?’ King: *smiles and tenses his arms* ‘You have already done part of it Wyatt. You will be spending a few days here in the jail. I will take you down there in a few minutes, but first I want you to hear the deal.’ *King opens the com system to the other room* King: ‘Jamie, I want you to offer him a deal.’ Jamison: ‘I’ll get to it now boss. Just give me a few moments.’ *opens his folder and pulls out the contract* ‘I am willing to offer you a monetary reward in exchange for dropping charges.’ *Monroe grabs the document and skims through it* *his eyes get really large and he grins* Monroe: ‘WOW, I am really surprised. He didn’t even break any bones and I could get this amount of money? Where is the pen, I am sold?’ *takes pen and signs off on the contract* Jamison: ‘It is a done deal boss. Looks like this case will be over very soon.’ King: ‘Thank you kindly Jamie, you can take Mr. Monroe to the courtroom now please.’ *turns com off and turns to look at Wyatt* Wyatt: ‘So I serve a few days and…..then what?’ *looks confused* King: ‘Then you will be free of course, but the money is substantial and you will have to volunteer for a program of your choice, see it as a type of community service.’ Wyatt: ‘Hmmm okay, well since I am not working now it might not be a bad thing.’ King: ‘Sure, you may even enjoy it a lot. I need to take you down there now.’ *grabs Wyatt’s arm and pulls him along* *they walk through the precinct down the stairs into the jail* *Wyatt looks a little scared but King keeps him close by* King: ‘It’s alright man, you won’t be alone much. I’ll be by sometimes to talk to you, but that guard down on the end, Roberto, will have to suffice for now.’ Wyatt: ‘Umm okay, I hope I am by myself.’ King: ‘Yes you will, no sharing cells here.’ *gets to Wyatt’s cell and opens the door* *takes his cuffs off and pushes him inside* *closes the door behind him and stands there* King: ‘Now I will be back in a bit, I have paperwork to do so in the meantime Roberto will keep you company. BEHAVE!’ *walks back the other way as Wyatt looks on* *Wyatt stares at the stone-faced Puerto-Rican who* *starts whispering to himself* Wyatt: ‘UGH! How did I get myself into this and what is he going to do with me I wonder? Oh well, I guess I will sleep for a bit.’ *lays down to sleep* *two hours pass and Wyatt is awakened by Roberto* Roberto: ‘HEY YOU, FEEDING TIME!’ *he hands Wyatt a menu which surprises him* Wyatt: ‘Wow, I get to choose the food? Cool.’ Roberto: ‘Count yourself lucky muchacho. You have friends in high places.’ Wyatt: ‘I’d say, I wonder if officer King did this?’ *chooses the chicken with rice meal* Roberto: ‘I will bring you the food shortly. NO SLEEPING!’ *he walks down the hall and hands the order to another guard* *Wyatt sits and waits* *Roberto returns to stand across from his cell* Wyatt: ‘So can I talk to you?’ *silence* ‘Great no conversation.’ *silence* ‘How long is this…..’ *Roberto talks* Roberto: ‘SHUT UP MUCHACHO AND WAIT OKAY? YOUR FOOD WILL BE HERE SOON.’ *after a few more minutes Roberto walks away and is holding a tray* *it is steaming as Wyatt catches the aroma and sighs* *he hands it to Wyatt* Roberto: ‘Here I suggest you savor it because it will probably be the only good meal you get here.’ Wyatt: ‘I will Roberto.’ *he starts eating slowly* *Roberto turns his head in the other direction as he eats* Wyatt: ‘Come on talk to me, I need something to do besides eat.’ Roberto: *groans* ‘I am not allowed to talk to you muchacho. Officer King will be here soon, why don’t you just hold your tongue until he gets here again.’ Wyatt: ‘You are no fun. I guess I will wait, at least I know he will talk to me.’ *finishes eating and hands the tray back to Roberto* *the guard walks off and disappears around the corner* *there is no guard around at that moment which makes Wyatt a little uncomfortable* *he finally gives up and goes to lay down for a bit* *the sound of a door opens* *Wyatt dozes off* Wyatt: *dreaming* ‘Wha…..errrr…..uhhhh…..I don’t want to drink it, it tastes bad. Ewww…..stop doing that….no I don’t want it. *makes shoving motion as he sleeps* Please……stop….’ *King shakes him to wake him up* Wyatt: *jumps up* ‘AHH, oh sorry officer.’ King: *looks concerned* ‘You okay man. I could hear you down the hall and wondered what the hell was going on.’ *Wyatt notices that King is wearing a tight tank showing off his bulging muscles and little black shorts* King: *sits beside him and puts his arms around him* ‘See something you like little man. Why don’t you tell me about your dream first?’ Wyatt: ‘Well…..I can’t remember now sorry.’ King: ‘It’s okay Wyatt, why don’t you lay on my lap for a minute.’ *Wyatt leans over and lays his head directly on top of the officer’s huge rod laying in his shorts* *Wyatt feels it throbbing wildly and reaches to pet it* *King moans as Wyatt rubs his face on it* *King pulls his shorts off and pushes Wyatt’s face on it* *He gobbles it down and starts sucking rapidly* King: ‘Mmmmm feels good man, I am really starting to like you a lot Wyatt.’ *Wyatt feverishly sucks making King start to growl as he pulls the young man’s stripes off* *King picks him up from his legs and turns him so he can swallow Wyatt’s cock* *Wyatt moans deeply as the officer moves slowly but steadily back and forth getting a rhythm going* Wyatt: *stops sucking* ‘OHH GAWD OFFICER, FEELS SO AMAZING.’ *goes back to sucking again* King: *feels his cum starting to move up into his cock* ‘YEAH WYATT MMMMM KEEP GOING MAN, KEEP GOING, ALMOST THERE, OHH FUCK, RIGHT THERE MAN, RIIIIGGGHHHTTTT THERE, YES!!!!!!!’ *spills his seed down Wyatt’s face and deep inside his throat* Wyatt: *licks his lips* ‘OH officer, it tastes so good.’ King: ‘Call me Marc Wyatt, we are beyond just acquaintances now. Now fucking feed me you sexy man.’ Wyatt: ‘I’ll try Marc.’ *feels it building in his balls as Marc increases his intensity two-fold* King: ‘Mmmmm yeah come on little man, I know you have a big one in there somewhere. *rubs Wyatt’s balls* Let go hot stuff, I want your hot cum in my body.’ Wyatt: ‘I….uhhh….shit….here it comes…..’ *King stops sucking and sticks his tongue out as Wyatt’s thick cum shoots directly into his throat* *King growls and pounds the bed as he swallows his spunk* *Wyatt moans slowly as the officer swallows every drop of cum* *He turns Wyatt around and kisses him on the lips and holds him tightly* *Wyatt pulls King’s tank off and kisses his chest* King: *looks into Wyatt’s eyes* ‘I do believe you are starting to get comfortable with me little man. I know I like spending time with you.’ Wyatt: ‘I can’t seem to help myself Marc. You are insanely hot and I just want to continue having sex with you.’ King: ‘Then have sex with me Wyatt. Do what you want, I won’t stop you.’ *Wyatt goes back to worshipping King’s swollen pecs* ‘He bounces them as Wyatt licks each one* *The young man toys with King’s nipples which makes his growl again* *His cock starts bouncing uncontrollably* King: ‘Wyatt…..man…..you are making want to fuck you really bad.’ *pauses for a few seconds, grabs Wyatt and pushes him down on his cock* *Wyatt squeals as King’s thick cock spreads him wider* *The sensation is so amazing that Wyatt sprays King’s chest* *King reaches down and spreads his finger in the cum before putting it on his tongue* *he smiles and moans as he picks up speed on Wyatt* King: ‘OHHHHH FUCKKKKKK YEAHHHHHH MANNNN *moves even faster* I WANT TO FUCKING SHOOT IN YOU SO BAD.’ *King feels it building in his balls and slows his tempo down just enough to squeeze each jet into Wyatt’s intestines* *Wyatt moans long and deep as King thrusts jet after jet inside him holding him tight to his chest* Wyatt: *sighs* ‘Ohh officer, feels so good. I haven’t felt like this in ages. Thank you for making me feel like a man again.’ King: *holds him tight* ‘I feel a connection with you Wyatt. I don’t quite know what it is, but I can feel it.’ Wyatt: *rubs King’s thick arms and kisses the peaks on his biceps* ‘I am beginning to fall for you I think. I don’t really know why either.’ *leans into his chest as King rubs his head* King: ‘I promise you won’t be in here long. I need to get out of here before someone catches me fraternizing with the inmates. I will talk to you soon man.’ *waves goodbye and races out of the cell in just his underwear that he just put on* Wyatt: *talks to himself* ‘What is going on in my head? That dream earlier seems to be resonating somehow now.’ *puts his stripes back on* ‘I guess I should try to sleep again. Not going anywhere anytime soon.’ *lays back down* ‘I am afraid to sleep, but I am tired.’ *closes his eyes* ‘I feel….so….funny…..’ *passes out*
  19. (Hey guys, this story is a collaboration by Mguy and Gaiser. We came up with the story, Mguy wrote it, I did the art work. I may be the one posting the story, please remember to credit and give your compliments to Mguy as well. Enjoy. Mguy: https://muscle-growth.org/profile/183-mguy/ ) Erik got to the gym later than most. It had been a long day at work. As usual he was the last to leave the office, working longer on his projects than anyone else. Not that his co-workers would notice as they routinely left him on his own, not trusting him to be able to think about anything but his next meal. This same isolating social behavior had dogged Erik since high school. Starting out small, Erik took to weights like a duck to water. It was only a matter of time before he fell in love with bodybuilding, and when he did, he fell hard. Never a social butterfly, the discipline required to be a success in bodybuilding isolated Erik at a time when his peers could be their cruelest. Though college was easier than high school on a social level, Erik stuck with his true love, the love of muscle. He took his body to the limits, broke through all barriers, and then went beyond until there was no going back. As he became big and then even bigger, Erik was able to get his way simply by using his muscles to intimidate and at times outright bully others. If people couldn’t appreciate what he had accomplished or shunned him because they thought he was a brainless musclehead, why not give them a taste of what they expected. ”The gym feels cool tonight,” thought Erik, "but I’ll be overheated and dripping with sweat inside of a quarter hour anyway." Walking down the hallway into the locker room, Erik felt like a gladiator entering the arena from the tunnel under the bleachers, the strong, chosen one, ready for all challenges. Erik was at his best when alone. He barely noticed that there was a new kid, who was working the late shift at the gym. As he passed the mirrors, Erik checked out the physique that would give any guy whiplash as he walked by. Erik raised his left arm, creating a peak of absolute perfection as the steely hard bicep bulged skyward. He swung the other arm into a stunning front double-biceps pose. Erik flexed his huge upper body followed by the sound of fabric tearing. His tight dress shirt, once capable of containing his torso, lost its ability to do so. Erik's 23.5 inch biceps exploded out of the seams. The tear in the sleeves grew and opened up like a peeling banana. He began twisting his wrists to show the thickness of his bowling pin forearms. Erik grabbed his left wrist and brought his arms under his chest for an outstanding side-chest pose. His flimsy shirt stretched to its limits as his huge pecs ballooned outwards. The buttons began to vibrate like a glass in an earthquake. Erik struck a jaw dropping lat-spread that defined the letter V. He then did an impressive most-muscular which ripped the shirt collar around his neck and exposed his mountainous trapezius muscles. His massive deltoids literally capped off the top of his V. Erik tore the remains of his shirt off tossing them in the trash not noticing that there was a new guy working the late shift and that he had seen everything. Erik turned his attention to his lower body. Removing his dress shoes, socks and slacks, he flexed his feet, calves and massive quads. He extended his right leg forward shaking his thigh into a rippling mass of superhuman muscle. His quads, like his biceps which filled out the shirt sleeve, filled out the shorts he has squeezed into. His calves were ripped and finished with feet that could only be described as equally ripped and muscular. Erik flexed his hamstrings bulging rearward and his rounded glutes which were high and tight and reeked of power. Before the mirror stood one god of a man: blond haired and 6'2, 265 lbs of rippled striated contest muscle that only top pros achieved – but better. At 25 years old, Erik was proud of his achievement. He flexed so hard that his veins were engorged with blood. Erik took pride in his well developed and defined abs which were hard and taut, forming an 8-pack with very well defined obliques. As Erik flexed, his red shorts grew tighter as his crotch bulged outward. Erik's glutes were stretching out the ass of his shorts. Erik was fucking pumped! He knew he could spew hot cum all over the mirror, but that would have to wait. First Erik needed to attack the weights which would reward him with the muscle he was so in love with. Erik set his bag down pulled out his water bottle, shake bottle, workout log, pen, sweat towel, gloves, and tank top. He slipped the top on adjusting it so that it fit snug accentuating each muscle on his torso and entered the gym. Erik moved through his workout with the precision of a skilled athlete. He instinctively knew what his body needed. An extra rep here and additional weight there. His body hummed like a powerful BMW. Nearing the end of his workout, Erik grabbed the 90 lb. Dumbbells , taking deep breaths…Clang! “Shit, that new kid banged some weights.” Erik looked over to see if the kid was OK and started over. Erik said to himself, "Focus. Fall back and leverage the weights above shoulders. How bad do you want it?" Nine reps. Rest for ten to fifteen deep breaths. Twelve, thirteen go! Heave the dumbbells up. At least four this time, dammit. AAARGH. Four. Drop the weights. Rest again. Longer. Fourteen deep breaths. Three reps, fouuuuuuur, slow slow slow down… fuck! Now extreme stretch with the 35s. Arms hanging off the sides of the bench. Stretched out like a crucifix. Fuck, the pec muscles feel like they are ripping off the sternum … pain… 58… 59… 60 seconds! Chest done! The workout complete. Erik sat up and flexed in the mirror. The tank top stretched so tight that you could see the upper pecs all engorged and vascular. Erik flexed again. He told himself that he wasn't showing off, but hell, yeah he was! "But it’s also good to squeeze and force the blood into the muscle after hitting it," Erik said to himself, "Most guys are too shy to do this, but fuck shy, fuck what anyone thinks. Is this not bodybuilding?" Erik thought about the other guys he had seen while working his way up just flailing about. Erik didn't look down on anyone, but if they want big muscles, why couldn't they be honest and train for that, instead of just doing the same useless crap over and over. Erik focused in the mirror and told himself, “I mean, Fuck! Look at me! You know what I am about. You see me train, and everything is focused on one goal: MASS. You gotta have it in you. They just don’t get it. They want to know my ‘secret’. Fuck Dudes! It’s a feeling, the way you move the weights. Takes years of dedication. Few guys make it that far.” By the time Erik left college, he knew he had crossed over. Erik was a stunning mountain of muscle. Erik peeled off his sweaty tank top, tossed it on the bench, and centered himself in the mirror. He brings his arms up for a front double biceps. Not bad, he says to himself, maybe arms farther back. Yeah, there it is. The peaks were high and sharp. Erik noticed that kid was looking on. “Damn!!!” was all the smaller man could muster. He looked at Erik's legs. “Fuck, your wheels are sick!” Erik jiggled his huge quad muscle like a huge piece of meat from one side to the other, then he tensed “Bam!” His thigh rippled into a solid, corded mass. Stupid bodybuilder tricks. Erik just smiled, and started over. Front double biceps, front lat spread, turn to the side, side chest pose, side triceps… Erik couldn't see his own back, but he did the poses anyway. He hit the “most-muscular” pose, and the look on that twinky gym employee’s face said it all! The kid straightened up shaking out the tension. He looked like he was deciding whether to flee, but in truth he was hooked. “Damn you look good! How much longer till your contest?” Erik gave himself an appraising look in the mirror and snarled, “Fuck! I do this for me!” “Well, you look… good now… to me… “Yeah? Who made you the expert? What’s your name?” "Tim." Tim was not here by chance. He had taken this job in the hopes of finding a big man. Tim wanted muscle – and lots of it. He was working this shift because he had heard about the mysterious mountain of muscle called Erik and needed to check him out for himself. As Tim watched Erik in the mirrors, he took a look at himself in one of the mirrors. He was medium height, on the thin side, but tight and nicely defined. His legs were a little thicker than you would expect from the size of the rest of him, because he was a dedicated biker. His hair was closely cropped and was a light brown color. From an early age, Tim had been fascinated by musclemen, he collected old comics, but paid more attention to the Weider ads in the back of comics than he did to the Marvel superheroes. He had a collection of muscle magazines and YouTube clips, but he always hungered for the real thing. A few times he had been lucky enough to meet up with a guy who was muscular, but only once or twice were they really into showing off. Tim loved the thought of a big strong man posing for him, getting off on how much Tim was turned on by the muscle display. He didn't have to be Mr. Olympia – though that would be great! – he just had to have an attitude! When he first saw Erik enter tonight, Tim's heart immediately started hammering in his chest. The man's back was wide from the sweep of well-developed lats, and tapered down to a taut looking waist. The stud's triceps flexed slightly as his arms swung at his sides as he swaggered down the hall. Thick deltoids capped his torso, and as he turned the corner Tim got a quick look at a broad chest. Tim continued following the guy ahead, and his cock was already beginning to fill out a little. When Tim turned the corner he saw that the big man finishing his work out, he was hooked. Watching Erik pose, Tim could make out the definition of the slightly flexed thick quad muscles and a nicely defined six pack which gave way to the thick muscles of his pecs. Tim guessed that Erik was a tad taller than his 5'10", and far outweighed him and all of that was muscle! Eric looked at Tim, and then he tensed his arm straight down. If Tim had been impressed with the rippling triceps before, now that the horseshoe was fully flexed he became excited. Even from this distance Tim could see the veins in the guy's forearms starkly revealed, and the tie-in between the delts and the triceps was like a chasm between two mountains of muscle. Tim's mouth was dry. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but this guy was so hot. As Erik stared into the mirror, he realized that Tim was quite good looking and had a good build, but there was something else. Erik sensed that Tim had a profound appreciation of muscle. A few more poses validated that thought. Tim was in awe. And what's more – the growing mound in his shorts proved it. Having done every conceivable pose, Erik's body was pumped! All of his muscles bulged with power. Erik knew he had done well as he left the gym and headed to the showers. Tim followed Erik, this time even more in unafraid of the pumped physique that stood before him. Tim started to slowly walk toward the beefy man, who suddenly turned his way, now with a little smirk on his face. Eric immediately flexed his pecs. Tim sucked in his breath as he saw them bunch up into humps of sexy muscle. Erik's arms rested at a different angle than they had before, pushed out by his flared back, and his steps had taken on a rolling gait so that his thighs could get around each other. In the shower, Erik lifted his face to the spray, feeling his biceps flex and grow as he brushed his hair back. Slowly, he let his hands roam down his water-slick body, feeling his pecs as they heaved with each breath. He gently squeezed his left nipple with his right hand, and then twisted it fiercely, gasping with pain and pleasure. The muscle beneath his flesh was rock-hard, his chest two massive slabs. As his right hand played with his nipple, his left dropped below his rib cage, moving up and down his abs, feeling each mound. He flexed, stretched, then flexed again, his whole body absorbed with the pleasure and the feeling of this pumped muscles. He was oblivious to everything as his right hand left his chest and slowly grasped and squeezed his hard dick. A lightning bolt of pleasure filled him at the contact, and slowly he began to stroke. His dick was long and thick. It pulled at his groin and was such an incredible sight which grew with every lengthened stroke. It felt so sexy, and that with his pumped up muscle, made him feel so masculine and powerful. He felt like there was nothing he couldn’t do. The only thoughts in his mind were about how good this felt. His breathing and stroking sped up, as he realized that his whole body felt made for this, for the approaching orgasm. He felt like someone had injected pure sex into his body. The weight of his body and cock made him feel like a lumbering giant, a beast of raw sexual energy, sated for now, but he could feel the stirrings of arousal rising in him. Erik opened his eyes and saw Tim buck naked outside the shower and staring at him, his own hand covering his mound. Erik opened his eyes and grinned lustfully at Tim. "I know you want to touch me," the hunk said. Tim tore his eyes away from the huge muscles and looked Erik in the eyes. "Can I?" "I don't know. What makes you think you are worthy to touch these muscles?" “Fuck!! I am a complete muscleaddict!" "Yeah I can tell," Erik said, and smirked. “I’ll bet you dreamed about meeting someone like me." Tim's heart was pounding. "Oh Fuck, yes!" "Your dream is about to come true,” said Erik, as he flexed his pecs and spread his thick lats. Without waiting for a reply, Erik reached down and grabbed Tim's perky ass in his hands and lifted the smaller man up. Tim placed his hands around Erik’s thick muscular neck and wrapped his legs around his waist. Erik stood in the shower and held Tim up with ease. Tim felt the powerful trapezius muscles as he slid his hands down and moved one over to Erik's shoulder. Tim was getting excited by the feel of the solid flesh underneath his hand. He thought of the power contained in those muscles. “Check out this bicep,” Erik said. He raised his arm out straight and clenched his fist. Tim saw the cords in Erik's forearm appear. Then Erik suddenly brought his fist toward his shoulder and the bicep muscle jumped and thickened into a hard, round mass. There was a small knot on top; Erik worked hard for that great peak on his bicep. Tim felt his mouth going dry as Erik relaxed his arm, then slowly flexed it again, so that the bicep contracted just inches away from Tim's face. "So what do you think?" Erik asked. “Fuck it’s so thick!” Tim said. "Yeah, and cut too. Look at that vein crossing the top there. Just waiting for your tongue." Erik needed no further invitation and his face dove toward the muscle in front of him. He traced the length of the vein as Erik whispered, "Suck it boy.” Tim placed his mouth on the hard peak of muscle which flowed under his lips as Erik relaxed and flexed it a few times. Erik lifted up his arm and Tim’s mouth instinctively travelled down to the hairy pit that was revealed. Tim rubbed his nose and face there, breathing in the musty male scent. Tim’s eyes were wide open as he continued his exploration of Erik's hard body. His hot mouth moved over to Erik's rippling right pec, and the big man tensed it so that it hardened underneath his lips. "Suck my tits, boy! Work this big man's chest!" Tim felt Erik's hand clamp onto the back of his head and then his face was pressed against the unyielding pec muscle. Tim's head was surrounded by muscle as Erik worked his arm behind his head and smashed his face into the side of his muscular chest, and into the armpit. After breathing in the musky scent of Erik’s pit, Tim had to gasp for air through his mouth, not wanting to let go of the nipple he had been sucking on, but needing to breathe nonetheless. Tim reached his hand up to run along Erik's side and around his back as far as he could reach. "Yeah feel those lats. Wide as a handball court," said Erik. He arched his back slightly and spread his lats, which Tim now stroked on both sides. "God, you are so hot!" Tim moaned. "I could feel your muscles all night long." "I bet you could, little man," Erik replied. "A fucking stud flexing, posing – you would spend all week worshipping me if I let you." Tim had a raging hard on at this point. His 7 inch dick was pulsing, pressed hard against Erik’s pecs. His cock stuck out stiffly, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the piss slit. Erik reached over and brushed Tim's hand aside and squeezed Tim's cockhead. After that, Tim was lost to sensation. Erik smirked and said, "Not bad for a little guy,” but in reality, Tim had reached a depth that Erik didn't know existed. Erik knew how to build muscle, but Tim masterfully worked them into a sexual frenzy. Erik lowered Tim he pressed his fingers around Tim’s cock. Tim’s hand brushed against the ridges of the abdominal muscles that rose above the Erik’s pubic hairs. Erik’s cock was not quite erect yet. Tim watched as it grew longer and thicker. It was a beauty, very thick around with a large mushroom head that was a deep purple as more blood pumped into the cock. Veins ran along the shaft, as prominent as the veins that ran along Erik's forearms. Tim saw the heavy balls hanging amid a bush of pubic hair. Tim attempted to encircle the big tool with the fingers of his right hand, while his left continued to play along Erik's solid midsection. The sensations from Erik’s cock and his muscles melded together exploding into a sexual sensation that Erik never experienced. As Erik had been talking Tim had continued to stroke Erik's cock until it was its full rigid length, at least two inches longer than Tim's and much bigger around. Tim looked up from the cock into Erik's eyes. "I will do anything you want, just as long as you flex for me, pose and show off for me, and keep talking!" "For starters, get on your knees before your musclegod," Erik said. Tim immediately dropped down and pressed his cheek against one of Erik’s heavy thighs. His hand caressed Erik's calf muscle, which felt like a rock when Erik stood on his toes to flex it. "You know what to do boy," Erik said coldly. Tim slid his face across the muscular leg, appreciating the definition of the quads, until he was facing the stiff cock. He opened his mouth wide and started to take the dick in. A drop of pre-cum on the tongue tasted slightly salty as Tim took the whole tool into his mouth. Then he began to suck on the big man's dick, taking the balls in one hand while his other felt along the semi-flexed quad muscle of Erik's right leg. "Ooh yeah, baby, you like to suck a muscleman's cock. Love to give me head, make this man feel good." "Mmmmmm," came out of Tim's throat as he continued to work on the rod. He looked up and saw that Erik was looking down at him. Erik's thick pecs jutted out over the rippling ab muscles and Tim reached a hand up to stroke the bottom of the heavy chest muscles. Erik brought his arms up and did a double biceps pose, which made Tim start to emit high pitched snorts. "Jesus, what a stud this guy turned out to be!" Tim thought. "Look at those fucking arms. They are so strong, the way he picked me up like I was nothing!" Erik pulled Tim up to his feet, and the smaller man actually felt wobbly from the intensity of the experience. Erik wrapped his big arms around Tim and squeezed him tightly. Then he brought his face down and started a long passionate kiss. Their tongues were swirling against each other, Erik’s tongue thrusting into Tim's mouth. During the kiss Erik looked directly into Tim's eyes. Erik was hooked. Tim had the whole cock slick with saliva, and had been jerking the base of it while he tongued the purple head. Now Erik put his hands on the sides of Tim's head and pushed Tim forward all the way on his dick. Tim started to gag a little, but then he was able to get a breath and keep up the suction as Erik grabbed his head and held it in place while he used his hips to thrust his cock down Tim's throat. Tim's nose was being slammed into the bush above Erik's cock every time the muscle man powered his crotch forward. He took in deep breaths of the acrid smell and once more tried to look upward. He was grabbing onto Erik's thick thighs to help keep his balance from the onslaught of Erik's hard thrusts. “Enjoying your face fuck?" Erik asked. “Big muscleman shoving his horsedick into your mouth, so you get an idea of what power can do. Yeah, take this cock all the way. I said all the way!" and Erik rammed his dick extra hard into Tim's eager mouth. "Oh yeah man, stroke my balls so I can work up a big load for you. Big load of cum to shoot into your cocksucking mouth. Service this muscleman like he deserves. Oh yeah, feel it, dude. Feel my cum getting ready to shoot. I see you watching me, big fucking muscles flexed, know that you love it man, love to suck a muscleman's dick. Shit, feel my nuts tightening up, here if comes! Unh, unh, UNH, aww FUCK!" Tim felt the first gush of cum out of Erik's cock and made a whimpering noise. He kept his lips firmly clamped around the dick as Erik bucked and squirted more jism into his mouth. Tim was surprised that Erik's leg muscles got even harder as they flexed during his orgasm. As the cum kept squirting into him, Tim looked up again at the rolling ab muscles just above his head, rippling each time Erik shot, his dick now shoved all the way down Tim’s throat. "Shit! Drink my cum," Erik commanded as he pressed Tim's face against his crotch. Finally he released his hold, but Tim kept the slowly softening dick in his mouth. "Oooh yeah, I knew that you would be a good cocksucker. Here's a little reward for you," Erik said. Then he stepped back so that Tim had to reluctantly let Erik's cock slip out of him, a thread of cum and saliva dripping off it. As Tim, still on his knees, looked up, Erik did his version of a most muscular pose. The muscles seemed to explode on his body: striations fanning across his pecs, the three heads of the deltoid muscles starkly exposed, Erik's dense biceps hardened into baseballs, and everywhere a network of veins lay beneath the thin skin. Tim grabbed his own cock in his hand and started jerking it. It felt like he had a nightstick in his hand. He was so turned on from the face fucking service he had just given that this final display of raw muscle was all it took to have him shooting his load after fisting his cock just a few times. The cum flew out of his rigid boner further than he had ever shot before. Landing on Erik’s solid wall of bricks. "You fucking hot animal!" Tim gasped. His eyes were darting everywhere, trying to catch every inch of flexed muscle, and then they lingered on Erik’s face. Erik had a smile again, that look of superiority that made Tim's balls pump as hard on the fourth squirt as they did on the first. Erik stood straight up, flexed his right arm, and sticking his tongue out, licked along the hump of muscle as he looked out of the corner of his eye at Tim. Tim moaned as the last drops of cum dribbled out of his dick. Erik pulled Tim up to his feet, and the smaller man actually felt wobbly from the intensity of the experience. Erik wrapped his big arms around Tim and squeezed him tightly. Again, Erik brought his face down to Tim’s and he locked his lips onto Tim’s and gave him a long, passionate kiss. Erik looked directly into Tim's eyes again, but this time with a tenderness that belied his strength. He knew he had found his man. When Erik released Tim from his grip, Tim raised one hand so that it rested lightly against the huge pec of the man before him. He had also found his man. His muscleman! "God, that was so hot. Fuck you are my fantasy come true! I could give you the adoration you really deserve at my place," Tim said. Erik smiled and said, "Sure, why not?” Erik thought to himself, “Who knew a fucking twink could be so hot!”
  20. Travis

    Big Walt: Senior Brah

    At the gym where I train, there’s all ages. One man I’m friendly with, his name is Walt, seems to be about 65, and he often works out with some younger bodybuilders who are in their early twenties. He told me about something that happened between him and them. He says it’s true. I wrote it up as a story and embellished it with some fantasy. Big Walt: Senior Brah Walt looked forward to his workouts at Body Power Gym. Since retirement, he wanted to get built again, but not like the massive stud he’d been at his peak thirty years earlier. Now, he worked out four days a week. One of the best things about Body Power was the opportunity he had to train with young bodybuilders. Guys in their early twenties became part of his routine. Walt enjoyed the camaraderie he had with them. Sort of a mentor, he thought, even though they jokingly nicknamed him “Gramps.” Walt played along by calling them “dude” and “brah.” In fact, he was old enough to be their grand dad. One afternoon, two of the young bodybuilders, Tre and Daz, asked Walt if he wanted to go out for a beer. After their workout, the three took off in Tre’s Mustang. As they cruised along Sunrise Avenue, Daz asked, “What are you up for Gramps? Craft brew?” The two young men named a couple of places not familiar to Walt. “I’ll leave that up to you,” he said. “How about let’s just go to our place.” Walt thought maybe “Our Place” was where they’d go. “You don’t mind, do you Walt? Coming over to our house?” Daz asked. “We got stuff, like whatever.” “Sure. Cool.” he shrugged. Turning off Sunrise and driving via some neighborhood streets, Tre pulled up next to a red pickup that was parked in the driveway of the small bungalow that the guys rented. “Coke’s home.” Walt knew Coke from the gym. At 6’2”, 255lbs, Coke was the biggest, most jacked of the young bodybuilders. Walt, 6’, 205lbs, felt puny next to him. “Hey, take a seat. Chill.” Tre and Daz headed through the living room toward their bedrooms. Walt sat on the sofa, looked around the room, pretty sparse except for the sofa, two recliners, and a huge flat screen TV. Voices called from somewhere, maybe from the kitchen: “Wadda ya want, gramps? We got GrowFast, PumpSpurt, bottled water from Fiji, Iceland, someplace like that, and we do have actual, genuine beer too.” “Lemme try GrowFast, I never heard of it.” “Good choice!” Wearing boxer shorts, Tre and Daz returned the living room. They had bottles of water and sports drinks in each hand and offered Walt a blue or orange GrowFast, then sat on the recliners opposite the sofa. “Coke’s on the shitter. He’ll be out in a minute.” From a combination of nerves and thirst, Walt chugged down the half a litre of orange-colored GrowFast. He felt a rush as it hit his belly. “Good stuff.” Leaning back into the sofa, he relaxed a little. “How long you boys lived here?” Walt knew that the young bodybuilders were men, not boys, but he felt paternal, even protective, toward them. The sons he never had, all his children being female. Strange though, he was learning at least as much from them as they learned from them. But he hadn’t yet learned the generational difference in slang that allowed him instinctively to address them as dude or bro, or the even more recent brah. “Six, almost seven months. We met at the gym and figured it would be cheaper to share a house than pay individual apartment rents.” “Yeah. Smart.” Walt leaned forward, untried his trainers, and slipped them off, socks too. Just then Coke walked into the living room, wearing an orange posing suit. “Looks like you need another GrowFast, Gramps. You wanna try blue this time?” Coke handed Walt a bottle, then eased his muscular bulk onto the opposite side of the sofa from Walt. Together, the two men nearly filled it. In the locker room and showers at Body Power Gym, Walt had seen Coke, even seen him naked, but never so close, so intimate yet casual as this. Walt took a hefty swig of the blue juice. It roiled from his belly through his veins to every muscle he had. He imagined himself growing as big as Coke. At least he thought he imagined it. He took a second swig and a third. He aped the sexy yet relaxed way Coke displayed himself on the sofa. He had a fleeting thought about stripping off his clothes, getting naked. Fukken awesome, dudes. Effen, fukken awesome! -- Were they just thoughts, or did he say them? “How about you try a PumpSpurt, Gramps?” “Yeah.” Walt chugged from the bottle of purple ade Coke gave him. Everywhere on his body, he sensed his veins rising, his muscles pulsing. He saw the thick ropey web in his forearms, the cuts in his thighs and thickness of his calves, the heaving of his chest. His nipples, hard and erect, strained against his t-shirt. His pecs, swelling, pushed his nipples further. Damn. Walt pinched his right nipple between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. He pulled and twisted it. My nips are fukken jacked. He moved his hand to his left pec and worked its nipple. To thrust his chest forward and make his nipples rage, Walt raised his arms, hands behind head, fingers interlocked. His traps swelled and his lats widened. His felt his t-shirt stretch. He wanted his strong, hard nipples to pop through it. Fukken man nips, man. “Some workout you had today, gramps.” “You’re lookin big as fuck.” “Pumped, you’re pumped as shit.” “You’re fukken awesome, gramps.” “You’re effen fukken huge.” Totally swole the fuck up, old man.” Daz, Tre and Coke were encouraging him. “You gotta pose for us, brah.” Pose for my brahs, Walt’s mind clicked. Walt looked at Coke and didn’t feel puny. “Here, put this on.” Walt was sure he heard that. Coke had stripped off his orange poser and tossed it to him. Walt pulled down his gym shorts. Underneath, he had a bulge in his white briefs. Suddenly, he felt self-conscious. Still seated on the sofa, he didn’t know how much the young bodybuilders could see. Easy. Easy. Barely raising his ass off the supple leather, Walt peeled off his whities. He grabbed the orange poser, then slid his feet, ankles, calves, and thighs through its leg openings. He lifted his ass off the leather sofa and pulled the poser over his glutes. He grabbed his cock and balls. Fukken heavy, man. Fukken big and thick. His cock felt like way more than 9.5” he was used to, more like 12” and his nuts were big as kiwis. He stuffed his swollen junk into the poser and yanked the it up. It stretched to the max. As he stood, Walt felt 6’4’, maybe even 6’5”, 260-265 lbs. His t-shirt seemed to shrivel. Rising above his pubes, it exposed his roided belly. Its seams frayed as he pumped himself into a most muscular, crab pose. “Arrrgh!” Walt ripped the t-shirt over his head. Walt looked at the young men. He saw their eyes riveted on him with eager appreciation. He knew their interest in his physique was real, and that posing for them wasn’t foolish. With easy arrogance, Walt assayed his mighty physique through poses, variations and repeats: front double biceps, front lat spread, side chest - right and left, triceps - right and left, biceps - right and left, and three different takes on most muscular. Finished with displaying his massive upper torso, Walt transitioned first to a hands over head abs pose, then into abs and thigh poses, right leg forward first. As he shook his right thigh to accentuate his quadriceps, he couldn’t ignore his mega hard-on. Like a knight’s lance as he rode his steed, Walt’s stiff cock lunged forward, stretching the orange spandex, pulling the poser away from his crotch, exposing pubic hair, and offering peeks of his sac and shaft. Fukken awesome cock. Fukken hair. Fukken balls. Walt transitioned from right abs and thigh pose to left. Shaking and tensing his left quad, he also caused his ballsac to shift. Out popped his right nut with its covering of veiny scrote skin. Walt had been focused on his own mind-blowing experience of being huge. For sure, he had been asked to pose; almost begged, he thought, but once he’d ripped off his t-shirt, what he did was all about him, a show he did for himself and watched in his own mind, even as he performed for an audience of three. Walt had heard sounds and hoots, phrases and words of encouragement: “Yeah.” “Go for it.” “Hit it gramps, hit it Walt, hit it brah.” “Awesome, big guy.” “Go strong. You’re freakin, dude.” “You’re fukken massive. Ain’t never seen you look so huge.” Yet, so focused was he on how beastly he felt, the encouragement wasn’t what kept Walt going; a force inside did. While working on his left quad forward when his right nut popped out of the poser, he took a good look at his ramrod pole, defiant in its orange sheath. He felt dominating and powerful. He was riveted, gripped, transfixed by the explosive force that pumped his muscles to extremes, surged in his nads, and jonesed his libido. Walt turned to display his hulking back. Look at that ass. Did Walt hear it or imagine it? The rear of the poser had wedged itself into his butt crack, so Walt’s booty was on full view. Look at that ass. He blasted out a rear lat spread. Look at that ass. He alternated lat spreads with rear double biceps poses. Look at that ass. He did calf raises. Look at that ass. Walt widened his stance. They want to see my ass. Let them have a really good look. He bent over, maybe to grab his ankles, but used one arm and hand, his left, to reach around and pull the poser out of his butt crack. Show you my virgin manhole, dudes. Show you my fukken anus. Walt tugged the poser from between his glutes. Its taut waistband popped against his right hip, then split. “What the fuck?!” Walt breathed out the phrase, deeply. Time for the big show. Walt let the poser fall to the floor, he stepped out of it. Glad of its freedom, his vigorous cockstand charged forward. His teeming nutsac dropped halfway to his knees. Walt turned. “Holy Fuck!” Tre, Daz, and Coke panted. “Holy Fuck! Holy Fuck! Holy Fuck!” Walt’s pisshole oozed precum. His prostate pounded. His balls heaved. His shaft was choked up with jizz. Let it rip. Let it rip. Walt pumped out a front double biceps pose. His nads erupted. Spunk flew. “Fukken A! Fucken awesome! Fukken big brah to you dudes now!” Walt walked out the door. “Shit, brah, get back here.” Coke, Daz and Tre ran after him. “You can’t go other there naked. You got to come down from the juice. You got to put on your clothes and go home to your wife.”
  21. After increased interest, here are Parts 1: and Part 2: After being shown where he will be staying, Jessie decides to go ahead and get a little more comfortable with his surroundings by taking a nice long nap. After about twenty minutes, he gets a knock on his door. When he opens it, it is Victor again who comes rushing in and goes to sit on Jessie’s bed. Victor looks like he just came back from a very intense workout since his tank is completely drenched with sweat as he slowly drips perspiration off of his face and head. He takes his tank off to prevent more of a mess from occurring. “Sorry about this Jessie, I didn’t mean to get all of my junk on your comforter man.” He realizes what he just said and laughs. Then he motions for Jessie to come sit by him for a couple minutes while he talks to him. The sleepy man does so and wonders why Victor can’t just talk to him while he is standing. He basically just stares at Victor’s body whenever he is around anyway so it doesn’t really matter all that much. Victor’s muscles bounce every time he talks as the sweat continues to bead up and roll down his neck and chest. “Damnit, I can’t seem to stop sweating. Can you give me a few minutes Jessie while I go hop into your shower?” He gets up and rushes into the bathroom. He pulls his shorts off before he even gets into the room as Jessie sees his coach’s gorgeous Italian bum for the first time. There is a nice treasure trail of hair that is leading into his asshole. Jessie softly moans as he gets up to peer around the corner of the bathroom. He sees the gorgeous stud lathering his hot body up with the body wash he just put in there as his cock hangs sideways and is semi-erect. Jessie starts talking to his program coach from the corner of the doorway. “So……ummm you can tell me from the shower what you were going to say to me?” “Ohh well I was just going to discuss the next part of your program with you. You will be training with me of course, but that will be the easy part.” Jessie walks into the doorway and sees Victor with his back to him as he bends over revealing his hairy hole as he cleans it with his hands. The smaller man moans a little louder now as he quietly takes off his clothes to go sneak up on his coach. Jessie’s cock bounces frantically as it attempts to find its way into Victor’s enticing hole. Victor continues to speak to his client without him even knowing that he is right behind him in the shower. “I suppose that you will want to know what is going to happen next with you. Well….” Jessie starts rubbing his coach’s hot bubble butt and slaps his cock up against it. Victor jumps at first but grunts as he turns around to grab Jessie and slams him up against the shower wall. They both moan deeply as they kiss each other longingly and smack their cocks together. Victor starts stroking them both as he presses his muscular body up against his smaller partner. The horny man runs his tongue along Victor’s pec shelf as the muscly Italian puffs it up for him. “Mmmmm worship me Jessie, I really do need someone to appreciate what I have accomplished. It doesn’t happen all too often.” “I thought you said you had a lot of guys that were into you?” “Heh nah, I’m too old for them I think. You seem to like what I have though. You want to fuck me don’t you? Mmmm sounds good to me.” Victor stops stroking him and turns to bend his ass over so his hole touches Jessie’s cock. Jessie stares as his cock throbs wildly and starts to slowly part Victor’s hole. Victor moans loudly as he begins to move himself on top of his smaller top’s hungry cock. Jessie yells feeling his coach’s ass swallow his bloated prick. Victor then pushes Jessie down onto the shower floor as he starts to ride him. Their slick bodies rub together as they both grunt and groan. Jessie rubs his coach’s huge back muscles as they contract in his hands and is even able to reach around to feel his coach’s abs working overtime. “Mmmm Victor this feels amazing despite the fact that you’re doing all the work. I feel like I should be contributing somehow.” Victor slowly turns his body around to face Jessie and leans in to talk to him. “Jessie pretty soon you will probably be pounding guys into oblivion. Besides what you are doing with me right now is a sign that you have a dominant trait that is just begging to be cut loose. It takes a lot of guts to pursue the guy that is going to coach you and turn you into the man you deserve to be. And my gawd I can’t wait to make you fucking blow up into a superman.” Victor bounces is now picking up speed on Jessie as he feels him starting to draw closer to cumming. Jessie leans in to plant another kiss on his coach as they embrace each other. Jessie exerts his authority on Victor now as he pounds him harder making the coach grunt louder and even laugh. “OH FUCK YEAH JESSIE, you are going to be an insatiable beast, now cum for me you crazy man.” Jessie pulls out of Victor to starts slapping his cock on top of Victors heaving pecs. The sensation is getting him even closer. Victor takes it in his hands and continues slapping it onto the underside of them. They both growl as the coach rubs Jessie’s cock on his nipples. This is making Victor’s cock to start dripping all over Jessie’s legs. “MMMMM Jessie if you can spray your load onto my huge pecs that would make me cum harder than I have in weeks. I am beyond ready for you to coat me.” He slaps it harder on his pecs as Jessie tenses up. Victor strokes him harder once he can feel the cum racing into his partner’s cock. Jessie yells as he splashes his cum all over Victor’s bouncing pecs. The coach yells himself as he feels his cock preparing to burst itself. Jessie quickly leans down to start nursing on his coach’s nips which immediately puts Victor into a lustful trance. “AHH FUCK JESSIE, THAT’S IT! I CAN’T HOLD IT BACK ANY LONGER!” Jessie feels Victor spray several thick white ropes onto his lean chest before the coach pushes him up against the wall again and sits up to slap Jessie in the face with his leaky cock. “Mmm fuck yeah Jessie. You really know how to make an Italian guy like me feel good. I think you have just convinced me that you need to be transformed into a giant musclebeast.” “I just hope I don’t disappoint you Victor. You are so hot yourself. I would be happy to be at least half as hot as you are.” Victor smiles and pulls Jessie into him again as they cuddle with each other for a few minutes. After that, they decide to dry off as Jessie hugs him a little more making Victor purr deep down inside. He turns to kiss Jessie longingly again as he holds him close one more time. At this point it has been over an hour since Jessie saw Arliss. He wonders if he is moving too fast with all of these men since he has already had sex with both of them. Victor tells Jessie that he needs to go now, but he will be back soon to escort him over to the training facility. The Italian coach manages to find an outfit he can wear in Jessie’s wardrobe before he departs. Jessie puts on a fresh outfit as well before sitting down in a chair to check out some of the channels on his television. After a few minutes go by, he gets a knock on the side door adjacent to his room and realizes that he will have a roommate. Instead of getting up he tells them to go ahead and come in. They open it and come over to sit down beside of Jessie on his bed. It is Bronson who seems really upbeat after being down earlier in the day. Jessie smiles and asks him if his meeting went well with Arliss. “Did Arliss help you get settled in here?” Bronson curls his lip a bit and makes a strange face. “Well dude, he wants me to lose weight before I enter the program. I’m not sure that I can do that because he also said that I only have a few days to do it. Do you think that is even possible?” “Hmm I’m not sure man. Maybe your coach Lorenzo can help you figure out how to slim down.” “He said that to me, but I haven’t seen Lorenzo since I got here. He has been a real jerk and I don’t think he really cares about what happens to me. Has your coach been available dude?” Jessie smiles at him and nods. “Ohh yes, Victor is an incredible man. Very personable and really cares about what happens to me. He is supposed to come back here to take me to the training facility soon I think. I am a bit anxious though.” “You are really lucky Jessie. Maybe I should go find Lorenzo then. I will talk to you later.” Bronson gets up and walks back through the side door and closes it behind him. Jessie gets up and opens his door to walk out into the main hallway. He sees some activity going on a couple doors down and notices a thickly muscled stud standing in the doorway to someone else’s room. When he gets there he realizes that it is Thomas’s coach. The two men have been arguing quite a bit and Thomas looks extremely upset. Jessie’s curiosity gets the better of him as he walks down there to find out what is going on. He knows that he shouldn’t really be involved though. “I shouldn’t bother you two since it seems like you are in the middle of something.” The huge man grabs Jessie by the arm and turns him around. The brute is quite tanned with tattoos down his arms and has a thick beard on a very nicely developed face. His sparkling green eyes peer into Jessie’s as he smirks. Thomas sighs and walks back into the room he was in. “Oh no, you aren’t interrupting anything man. I am just trying to get Thomas motivated for his upcoming routine. He isn’t used to being pushed obviously. I’m Cliff Byutov by the way. You must be Jessie because most of the coaches and trainers have been talking about you.” “Good things I hope because I don’t want to be the black sheep here.” Cliff leans in again and gives him a big smile. His huge beefy arms wrap around him as he pulls him into Thomas’s room. He lets Jessie go and has him go sit in one of the chairs by the window as he walks into the bathroom to retrieve Thomas who appears to be hiding. “Get out there runt. I think one of the other guys here can be a great influence on you since you don’t seem to want to deal with me all that much.” “I don’t really want to do this. I don’t understand why it had to be me that ended up in this program. My friend Owen is the one that wanted to be transformed, not me.” “Well Owen isn’t here and I am not giving up on you Thomas. Get out there and sit with your other roommate.” Cliff pushes him out of the bathroom as Thomas staggers to go sit on his bed. Cliff comes marching out and stands between them. His huge beefy chest is covered in thick brown fur as Jessie scans it over with his eyes. Cliff winks at him and crosses his arms as he turns to stare down Thomas. “Alright Thomas, you have been chosen to go to training first. You will be required to go through some testing as well to prepare your body for what it will be exposed to. Now with Jessie here, I can inform him too that he will go through the same type of testing. I’m not sure if you are going after Thomas or not though. I think the other guy in this program has some prerequisites before he can even proceed so you might be after him.” “Well I know that Victor is supposed to come back to talk to me soon. Maybe I should go back to my room and wait for him?” Cliff puts his arm out and gestures to stay put. Thomas looks a bit miffed as Cliff walks over and picks him up. He rubs the small man’s back and hugs him. Thomas looks a bit more relaxed now after Cliff puts him back down on the bed. “You worry too much Thomas. I won’t make you do something that will make you regret coming here. Your mind is going to change a bit through the program anyway. I want you to feel comfortable in your own skin. I really do think that Jessie being here could be helpful to you in the long run. You should both get a bit more acquainted with each other to ease your concerns.” Thomas seems to agree with this as Cliff walks out of the room. Jessie goes to sit by Thomas and gives him a light hug. Thomas lays his head on Jessie’s shoulder and takes his glasses off. He sighs a bit before looking up at Jessie. “Cliff makes me feel so insignificant. He is such a huge man and I can’t understand why he would want to even train me. I mean I know he was assigned to me, but could they not find a guy a bit smaller eh?” Jessie laughs at what he just said. “Have you seen what my coach looks like? Victor isn’t exactly small either. I guess it depends on how we handle certain types of stress. If you want me to help you through this, then I will; besides your coach is quite hot.” Thomas smiles a little and agrees. He says that Cliff does like to hug him a lot and thinks that maybe he enjoys spending time with him. Jessie tells him that some guys like to exert their dominance and thinks Cliff might be into that. “The truth is I think Cliff probably wants to see you blow up into someone that he can have some fun with. You should get to know him a little better because you both might be able to build some kind of long-term relationship with each other.” “Ehh you might be right…..I guess I should start to listen to him more. I do agree that he is quite hot, I sense a nurturing side to him as well which is quite sexy…..okay…..I feel a lot better now, thanks Jessie.” “Sure Thomas, I need to go back to my room now because I figure that Victor is waiting on me. Talk soon man.” Jessie gets up and walks back out into the hall again where Cliff is hanging out. He smiles at Jessie and walks up to him. He puts his hand out and gestures for Jessie to put his out. He does and they shake hands. Cliff lifts him up and squeezes him tightly. Jessie groans a bit before Cliff puts him back down. He then walks back into Thomas’s room and shuts the door behind him. Jessie slowly walks back down to his room and opens the door. Victor stands by the window shirtless and turns to see Jessie in the doorway. They smile at each other as Victor gestures for him to close the door behind him so that he can spend some more time with him again in private. End of Part 3
  22. teroyugi

    Gym Buddies (Furry)

    Gym Buddies Outside a small gym, the parking lot was quiet with only a handful of cars parked outside. A strapping young wolf was leaning against the wall to the right of the gym door. His name was Zen. The wolf had soft dark green fur from his snout, back, arms and the top of his tail while his chest to his stomach and the lower part of his tail was all white. He had a stocky build with arms large yet well-defined and thick pectorals that pressed tightly against his yellow T-shirt. The wolf’s dark blue jeans clung tightly to his powerful thick thighs, and highlighted the roundness of the wolf’s bubble butt. Browsing through his phone, he wondered what kept his friend so long. He looked down at his black duffle bag on the floor, and wondered if he should head home. He took out his phone and it showed that the time was 8 in the evening. His friend was late for their gym meeting. Just then, a dark blue convertible drove into the lot and parked right in front of the gym entrance. Zen’s bushy tail wagged excitedly as the driver, a tall blue quail, stepped out of the car with his green duffle bag. It was easy to spot the bird from a mile away for he had a unique black plume that took on the shape of a pompadour. The quail’s yellow eyes met Zen’s. He bounded towards the wolf hastily. Zen was lost in his own thoughts as he ogled his friend’s body. Dressed in a light green and barely-covering tank top, the quail’s broad shoulders and straight-back power stance oozed confidence. His titanic arms were as tall as a beer bottle and thick with veiny muscles. What really caught Zen’s attention were the massive pectorals that were just inches away from slipping over the tank top. The plumpness of the quail’s chest and his nipples poking out against the shirt made the wolf’s cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. Half-realizing that he was staring at the bird, Zen quickly looked down, but was taken aback by the thick mammoth thighs that stretched the bird’s shorts to its limits. “Sorry, sorry,” the quail said. “Leo had me look for some missing paperwork.” He scratched his head nervously. “Nah, its ok Marty. I just got here.” Zen said. If it was anyone else, Zen probably wouldn’t have been so forgiving. But Marty was special. They had grown closer as friends through the months of seeing each other at work. He was the bodyguard-slash-accountant for a rich tycoon snake, and Zen was the part time flower delivery boy. The signs were subtle but they were there. Their conversations at the door grew longer, and Marty even started holding the door whenever it was 9 A.M. just to greet Zen and have their morning chit chat. Zen still remembered the day before when he asked the handsome quail out to gym together. Thinking about it made his heart race the same way it did that morning. The wolf fumbled with his words like a pup trying to form his first sentence while sweating bullets, but looking into the quail’s face made the awkward moment more worth it. Marty took the lead and went into the gym, Zen following him, and they were greeted by a male crested porcupine wearing a navy blue collared T-shirt with the gym’s logo on the right of his chest. “Tell you what. To make it up to you, your first session today’s on me,” Marty said. “What? No! It’s just six bucks. I can afford it.” Zen pulled out his wallet and quickly paid his entrance fee. “You want to make it up to me, give me some training instead.” “Deal!” Marty said, winking his right eye. A tinted door to the left of the registration desk separated it from the workout area. When the two entered, Zen’s nose twitched at the heavy scent of sweat and light hints of musk in the air. It was surprising to the wolf how much bigger the interior was compared to the exterior. The entire left side was lined up with treadmills facing the wall and in another row behind them stoodthe elliptical trainers. And in the middle of the room were two abdominal exercise machines. On the far side of the room were the stacks of dumbbells of varying weights, two rowing machines to the right, and further to the right in a dark corner was the squat rack. Marty was leading them to the locker room which took them past a huge jet-black crow doing 220-pound barbell squats. Zen paused for a bit as he looked with awe at the grunting crow. The crow was twice the size of Marty in terms of muscle mass and was a foot taller. The crow bodybuilder had a bright red tank top that hung loosely against his muscular form, and a pair of skin tight black shorts. “I wish I could be that big someday,” thought Zen. After storing their belongings they were ready to start. Sitting on the row-slash-leg-press machine, Marty spoke to the eager looking Zen standing in front of him. “So you really have no idea what to do in a gym? I find that hard to believe for someone with your body.” Zen’s tail went limp and tucked between his legs. “Well…I do exercise sometimes, and, well…” His voice softened into almost whispers. “… it’s mostly ‘cause of a flower.” They exchanged awkward stares at one another. The only sound was that of the crow behind them grunting and the clanking of metal when he set the barbell down. Marty broke the silence. “Flower? Never heard of that brand of supplement before, I should try it one day. Anyways, we’ll start with some warm-up exercises. Get on it.” Zen switched places with the quail. With his bum planted firmly on the seat and his feet strapped onto the footrest, Zen looked with determination at Marty for guidance. “Hold the handle with your claws facing towards you. Start with pulling it all the way back towards your abdomen while pushing your whole body back with your legs. Then bring it up to your chest for a bicep curl. Do that for as many reps as you can.” Marty demonstrated by flexing his arms just inches away from the wolf’s snout. Zen wondered if the quail was doing it on purpose just to tease him. Regardless, Zen focused on his first set. At first his body felt relaxed like it was no challenge, but in the middle of the set his arms were burning and tension began to build up in his legs from the pressing. At the same time, Marty got on all fours on the floor and started doing push-ups. Zen felt great upon seeing his friend prepare with him. Once his set was done, Marty got up and gave Zen a pat on the back. “Come on, we need plates for the next one.” “Aren’t you going to use the rowing machine first?” Zen asked as he followed behind Marty to the rack of plates beside the crow. The bird turned to reply, “Later. I want to make sure you get your fundamentals.” Grabbing a pair of five pound plates for each of them, the quail demonstrated another routine. The bird raised his arms sideways while each fist that held a plate faced forward, perpendicular to his arms. He raised the plates until they reached his head and brought them down. “This is important because your rotator cuffs are related to your upper and lower body workouts. Then move them to the sides and swing them inwards. Give me fifteen reps.” Zen followed his mentor’s instructions to the T. All the while the wolf’s eyes were glued onto Marty’s chest. He was lost in the hypnotic motions of the quail’s pectorals, the way they stretched and bulged out with every swing of his arms. Their warm-up continued with squats, jumping jacks and other bodyweight exercises for around ten minutes. Zen could feel his chest growing warmer by the end of it. From the corner of his eyes, Zen noticed that the crow had been watching them between his squats and rest time. Choosing to ignore the suspicious character, Zen followed Marty to grab a pair of dumbbells.The quail grabbed one with three 22-pound plates on each side. Before Zen could even reach the same dumbbells like Marty,his mentor grabbed him by the wrist. “Whoa! Whoa! I know you’re all excited, but if this is really your first time you gotta start light. Don’t want to hurt yourself right? Go with the 15-pound ones.” The wolf’s pained expression expressed his discomfort with Marty’s lack of faith in his strength, but the quailwas the more experienced gym goer so Zen gave in. Marty lied on top of the available bench and said, “Now I believe you can build muscle just fine with a bench and a pair of dumbbells. So today let’s work on all three parts of the chest. We’re going to start with the bench press. First-“ Zen interrupted. “I know how to bench press. Dumbbell exercises are how I got into shape the first place. In fact I can bench as heavy as you.” Marty raised his left eyebrow, feeling a bit puzzled. “Alright then, show me what ya’ got.” Zen took over Marty’s place on the bench and relieved the bird of his weights. He positioned his arms at an exact ninety degree angle and the palm of his hands faced one another. Ready to show off his skills, Zen pushed the dumbbells up, the sides of his arms squeezing his pectorals as he held the weights up. The wolf held for a second and brought the weight back down close to his chest. He loved the tightness on the side of his chest and the rush of heat and adrenaline coursing through his veins. Zen repeated his lifts over and over again, only to pause for a brief second to rest before pushing harder. And giving all of his strength for the final rep, he completed his set of thirty repetitions. The quail stood watching by the side with his arms crossed and nearly jumped when Zen started growling and grunting. “What do you think?” Zen said, panting in between words. Marty shrugged. “Saw some form issues. Lie back down and let me show you.” The sweating wolf lied back down and felt the quail’s soft hands grip his arms. Looking up, Zen saw the quail’s thick chest over his face. Zen could barely see his friend’s face. Slowly he could feel his cheeks reddening as he started thinking of all the ways he wanted to grope and feel the bird’s chest; to make Marty moan with lust. Lost in his imagination, Zen couldn’t recall any of Marty’s tips on improving his form. Faking his understanding, the still blushing wolf asked for lessons on how to use the barbells. Marty was more than delighted to fulfill Zen’s request. Walking backwards the quail threw random facts about how to properly use the barbell. Zen just smiled meekly until he saw the crow from earlier was heading in their direction. He didn’t get to warn the bird in time,Marty slammed into a wall of abs covered in short black feather. “Woah! Sorry there big guy, I wasn’t paying attention.” Zen’s ears drooped at the sight of the shirtless muscle bound crow. The crow’s yellow eyes stared intensely at Marty. Was he going to pick a fight? “Coach Marty! You don’t recognize me no more? It’s me, Steve!” The crow broke into a huge grin and patted Marty on the back with such force that the quail lost his footing for a second. “Steve? Lil’ Steve? Holy stars you are huge! Did the muscle fairy visit you in the last two years?” Marty said as he grabbed the crow by the hips and pulled him into a tight hug. “Says the little egg.” Steve responded by locking Marty’s head between his chest and bulging arms. Zen looked puzzled by the sudden change in mood between the two. Then Marty called him over and introduced the crow as his ex-gym partner three years ago. Steve extended his thick right hand and Zen reciprocated the handshake. The crow’s grip was tight and powerful. “Nice to meet you. I’m Zen,” the wolf said. “So you’re Marty’s new pupil?” Steve draped his right arm over Marty’s shoulder. The thickness of his upper arm nearly encompassed the quail’s entire head. “Oh no, no. He’s just showing me the ropes. It’s my first time here.” “Cool. Well you stick with this bird right here and you’ll see some major growth. Like all this is thanks to him.” Steve raised his left arm and flexed. His already large upper arm hardened into a cannonball of muscle. Stepping away from the bigger crow Marty stated, “Pssh, you still have a long way to go Lil Steve. You might have the size advantage from good genetics but I still see a little pudginess.” Indeed, up close there was a stark difference between Marty and Steve’s musculature. The quail’s muscles were better defined while the crow’s body albeit large and meaty was more like an offseason bodybuilder. “Oh yeah? Well it isn’t all about hard washboard abs. Furs everywhere appreciate a huge beefy bird,” Steve said. “Well I think we need an unbiased judge to help us out. Zen, mind picking which one of us is the better looking muscle bird?” asked Marty. “Huh? Wh-why me?” Zen asked. Steve then entered their conversation, “It’ll be fun. Just sit there, we’ll put on a couple of poses for you, and you pick which one of us is better.” With a shy nod Zen agreed. The two birds stood in front of the squat rack. Their shirts were gone and they pulled back their shorts to expose as much of their powerful thighs as they could. Zen sat on the floor and looked up to the two titans starting their show. Both of them stretched out their arms and performed a front double biceps pose, the birds’ arms bulging as if their muscles stretched their feathered skins to the limit. Zen stared and for a brief moment, forgot to breathe because he was so awe-stricken. His tail wagged vigorously Next was the wolf’s personal favorite: the side chest pose. Even under the feathers, the striations on Marty’s well-muscled chest could be seen. In contrast, Steve’s chest didn’t have much definition, but the crow’s chest displayed a largeness that could make Zen want to bury his face in it. Plus the layer of fat helped give the crow’s chest an even-more rounded look. At this point, Zen couldn’t decide yet; though he would lean towards Marty, the two birds just showed off their built physiques well. Next was the rear lat spread, where each bird showed off their backs. The birds’ lats were so wide they could almost be mistaken for wings. Marty showed an ideal V-taper physique, while Steve had a more Y-like shape going on with the bit of gut around the crow’s waist. In his mind, Zen wanted to abandon all reason and just fondle both of their backs, running his hands along their muscles, but he needed to exercise restraint still. After all, his friend was counting on him to make an unbiased judgment. Just then, Steve suddenly waved his hands in the air and declared himself the loser. “Something wrong, Lil’ Steve?” Mart asked. “I know you’re not one that would throw the towel down so easily.” The bulky crow turned away from the quail to pick up his shirt. “Nah coach. Just remembered I had a very important date.” Turning his attention to Zen who was still sitting on the floor, the towering crow nonchalantly bounced his pecs with a cocky grin. “Hey pup, if you and coach are going to be regulars here why don’t we exchange numbers? Then we can gossip all night about each other’s claws.” Zen chuckled in response. “You guys go ahead. I’ll work on a couple sets here,” Marty said. The duo nodded in response and headed into the locker room with Steve leading the way. Once inside, Zen got goose bumps, noticing how eerie the empty locker room looked with its rows of red lockers. Out of nowhere, the massive crow in front of him made a quick turn, slamming his powerful arms against the lockers behind Zen. His mind raced to find answers. Did Steve suddenly turn into a killer? What was going on? The color on his face was drained away by fear. “Wha-what’s going on?” Zen managed to ask, his voice cracking near the end of the sentence. Yet all he got in response was Steve’s intense stare. Then the crow stepped back and broke into laughter. The sudden change in atmosphere perplexed him. “Sorry, sorry. Just messing with you, pup.” Steve took a deep breath and sat on a bench to his right. “But seriously though, you have a thing for coach, don’t you?” Zen’s tail retreated between his legs and all the blood rushed back into his cheeks the moment his brain registered Steve’s question. Hesitantly, the wolf approached the smirking crow and asked, “H-how did you know?” “Your tail was pretty obvious, kid. Word of advice, don’t play cards. Every time you looked at me your tail did a little soft wag, but when your eyes latched on coach that thing was moving fast enough to blow the weights away.” “Oh no… Shit! Marty’s gonna hate me now!” Zen wished a hole would just open up from the ground he stood on, wanting to hide his embarrassed self. Feeling his legs weaken, he fell to the ground, covering his face with his hands, trying to calm himself down. He wished that Marty didn’t notice, but he thought that if the crow noticed, what more his coach that was so close to him while all that was happening. That moment, the wolf felt an immense fear take over him and was on the verge of tears. Seeing the wolf in such a state, Steve felt like consoling him and placed a hand on Zen’s shoulder. “Hey, come on now!” Steve said. “We don’t even know if he did notice. Cheer up! Why don’t you join me for coffee instead? We can talk about it and have something to munch on.” “What’s the point? And didn’t you say you have an appointment?” Zen said. “It’s a fib, pup. And it’s better than just sitting here and moping about it.” Steve rose from his seat and walked towards the locker room door. “I’ll tell Marty you’ll be with me. Go hit the showers, pup.” Zen reluctantly dragged himself to his locker to take his toiletries before hitting the showers. As he thought about it, Steve did have a point. Better to leave and get things sorted out than to stay and make an already awkward thing even more awkward. Heck, who knew what could even happen if he faced the quail in that state. The shower area was one huge light-blue tiled room with four shower heads all lined up in a row on the wall across the entrance. As he walked, Zen enjoyed the cold tingle of the shower floor against his feet pads, his fur standing on end. After dumping his things on the bench opposite the shower head, Zen bathed himself under warm running water. With nothing but the sound of the running water echoing around the entire room, Zen felt a little calmer with the peace and quiet around him. As he showered, thoughts of Marty entered Zen’s mind. From the first time they met, the times Marty held the door for him, the times they chatted up until it was past nine in the evening, the subtle changes in Marty’s speaking when the quail was in a bad mood, the times the quail would flex without even noticing, all these flashed one after another inside Zen’s head and all he could do was let out a dreamy sigh. When he was shampooing, his thoughts shifted to what it would feel like if Marty was the one lathering the shampoo all over him, the wolf imagining the quail touching every curve of his body. Lost in his fantasy, the wolf failed to notice his surroundings and suddenly, found someone’s thick meaty fingers wrapping around his stomach, startling him. Zen panicked and tried to break free, but the one holding him was holding too strong. When the wolf took a second and looked at the mystery fur’s arms, he immediately recognized the shade of blue it had. “M-Marty?!” Zen said. Marty pulled Zen closer into a warm embrace, his cheeks pressing close against the wolf’s. “Shh. It’s alright. Steve called me here, but I’m glad it’s only you in here. Finally, it’s just the two of us.” “W-What?!” “I’ve been wanting to do something like this with you for a long time. But I’ve always held back because you’re my friend. Now, I don’t know. It just feels right and I took the chance. If you want me to let go, say it.” Overcome with happiness, Zen leaned back towards Marty and placed his arms on top of the quail’s, their fingers interlocking. “Don’t. Don’t let go, and don’t hold back anymore.” Marty’s left hand dug deep into the fur of Zen’s abs and he slowly rubbed along the tough ridges of muscles, while his right explored the wolf’s wide chest, fondling and squeezing each pec as if he was kneading dough, running his fingers along the wolf’s now-erect nipples. Every touch was slightly ticklish for the wolf, but it also sent jolts of pleasure throughout his whole body, causing him to grunt and moan. When Marty started to kiss him on the neck, Zen leaned a little closer to the quail and, kissed the bird on his beak, it was a strange but sweet kiss. The wolf was filled with the feeling of warmth, all of it cumulating in his groin. Zen’s thick member kept twitching as it slowly grew hard, eventually pointing to his abs upon becoming fully hard. When they broke the kiss, Marty noticed the quail’s dick was just as hard and pressing between the wolf’s ass cheeks. “Is that?” Zen asked, almost whispering. “Yeah. You ok with it? I mean, if you don’t want to…” Zen shook his head. “No no, it’s alright. Feels a bit longer than mine I’d say.” Marty grinned and turned the wolf to face him. He pulled Zen by his right palm to the second shower head that wasn’t turned on. Excited about what could happen next, Zen’s tail kept wagging. “You know, I did get kind of jealous that you were giving Steve so much attention back there in the weight room,” Marty said, holding both of Zen’s hands. “I thought that maybe I wasn’t good enough for you, you know?” Zen held the quail’s hands in return. “Never! I love looking at you! Always have! Well, uh, that sounds kinda…” Marty smiled. “It’s alright. Is there anything you want do?” “Well, I always wanted to…” The wolf then plunged his snout between the quail’s hefty pectorals. He took a deep breath, relishing the manly scent of sweat and musk from Marty’s muscles. His hands quickly explored Marty’s wide back. It was like running his fingers through a canyon of muscle. Every groove, every ridge made Zen’s cock twitch with ecstasy. As his dick met with Marty’s, Zen started to thrust his hips, rubbing his cock against Marty’s erection. Marty cooed in response to Zen’s wet nose being buried deep between his pecs. It was the first time that he had been touched like that before, and he was savoring every second of it. He whispered cues into Zen’s ear on where to touch. Overcome with a desire to please the wolf, Marty flexed his pecs, tightening his grip on Zen. “You really like me that much?” Marty asked, letting the wolf go a bit. “How’s ‘I’d jump in front of you naked if you asked’ sound?” Zen said, stopping his grinding. The quail laughed. “Well, I like you too, Zen.” Zen paused for a bit. “Can you say that again? Just want to hear those words from you again.” Marty then put his hand on Zen’s cheek and gently stroked it, him smiling at the wolf. “I like you, Zen.” “I… I like you too, Marty. For the longest time.” The quail leaned closer and gave the wolf a quick smooch. “So, wanna pick up from where we left off? My dick’s throbbing like crazy here.” “Gladly!” Zen rested his head onto Marty’s chest and started reaching for the quail’s back again, this time moving a little lower, reaching for the quail’s round bubble butt. The two small hills felt soft like touching clouds, but then with one flex, the quail’s butt hardened into two walls of steel. Zen looked up at the quail and grinned. “Show off!” “Anything for you,” Marty said. Marty then raised his bulging arms and performed a double bicep pose. That moment, something changed within Zen, as if a switch had just been turned on. The wolf got a little more aggressive and went mad with lust, licking the bulging mass of muscle like a hungry dog given a bone. His mind was lost with the thought of worshipping Marty’s body, just touching and licking every part of him. Marty, for his part, groaned in pleasure as the wolf got on all fours and licked his Adonis like body from his arms to his pecs, and further down onto his tree trunk thighs. But even when down there, he noticed that Zen wasn’t paying attention to his cock, as if the wolf was deliberately avoiding it. How he wanted the wolf to suck on his dick, to take in every single inch of it. And the way Zen teased him by avoiding it made his desire for him burn even more. Panting heavily, Marty grabbed Zen by the shoulders and pulled him back up, their pecs pressing up against one another. Putting a little bit of spit on his hand, he grabbed both of their dicks and started stroking them. Every stroke brought Zen closer and closer to the edge, and Marty was just as close. With nothing but the hissing of the shower water and their moaning and groaning filling the entire place, only one desire filled their minds. Still, the show wasn’t over. Letting go of their dicks, Marty bounced his pecs with a cocky grin to tease the wolf further. But Zen didn’t want to lose to the quail. With one hand, the wolf pulled Marty closer and started nibbling on the quail’s left pectoral, his other hand fondling and stroking Marty’s precum-drenched cock. His own cock was leaking just as much as his partner’s, causing a heavy flow of pre to drip onto the floor. With their desire for release finally overtaking their minds, Marty pushed Zen onto the wall as he made out with him more intensely, holding the wolf tight as he thrust his hips, rubbing their leaking and throbbing cocks together. Zen kept moaning Marty’s name, and this pleased the quail even more, increasing his jerking speed on both of their cocks. Zen, felt his legs start to wobble from the intense pleasure. He grabbed onto Marty’s hips and called for the quail to go harder, faster. Marty obliged and rubbed their hard members with greater vigor, causing both of them to moan and grunt even faster. It was then that the two finally felt the approaching climax. Holding even tighter, Zen shared one more kiss with the quail. Marty came first, his dick spewing shot after shot of hot cum onto Zen’s chest. The smell and warmth of Marty’s cum aroused Zen that he came with such intensity, he blew his load all over Marty’s chest. When the two finally calmed down from the massive orgasm they had, they shared another smooch, before laughing at each other, together realizing that at that point, they had become even closer and more than just friends. They looked at each other’s eyes and found in them a glow that they had never seen before in each other. Basking in the afterglow of their “shower time”, they nuzzled each other. Then out of nowhere, the sound of applause echoed from the shower room entrance, causing the two to stand up and quickly look at the source of the noise. There they saw with nothing but a short blue towel on was Steve, not even bothering to hide his massive boner. “Well that was a great show,” Steve said. “Man, you two were really pent up, weren’t you? Should have called me, then we could have turned it into an orgy.” The duo looked at each other then back at Steve. Sharing the same idea they grabbed the big crow into the shower and proceeded to give him his personal shower as rough as they could. It was all simple horseplay with them splashing water at each other and soaping each other’s back. When they were finally done, they went out of the gym and headed for the nearest diner for the biggest dinner they could ever have. All that lifting and personal time got them hungry that it seemed like they could eat the entire diner out of business. The trio talked for hours about how Marty and Zen first met and what it meant for them now to be together. Done with their meal, they had a brief walk along the streets, thinking about what had just happened today. As Steve left the two alone, Marty and Zen thanked the crow for helping them finally take that plunge and become more than friends. The end.
  23. They get to the facility fairly quickly since it is located right next to the airport. When they get inside, Victor manages to get all of Jessie’s documents signed so he can become a member of the company without any delays. They are whisked away into a waiting area where four other men are also standing. Two of them are quite heavily muscular while the other two are small like Jessie. He walks over to one of them and taps on his shoulder. The man turns around and is wearing wiry glasses. He smiles and puts his hand out to shake Jessie’s. “Ehh hi there, I’m Thomas. Where are you from?” “Iowa actually, my name is Jessie. Are you from another part of the country?” “Yeppers, I’m from Maine. I have been mistaken for being Canadian quite a bit though because of my accent. I try to cover up the bad parts as much as I can.’ Jessie admits to himself that the guy is pretty cute. He is very slender and there is hardly any muscle anywhere on his body. Jessie looks at his own arms and smiles. Victor sees this and smiles as well. He leans in to Jessie and whispers, “I know what you are thinking. Wow…..this guy needs more help than me, but every man is different. Genetics can be unlocked and you will find this out later on.” The other man standing with them doesn’t seem too interested in talking to anyone so Jessie asks Thomas about him. “So who is the other guy with us? Is he not friendly or something?” “Oh that is Bronson. I think he is just really scared because he hasn’t traveled anywhere before. He talked to me earlier and told me he was from the outskirts of Laredo Texas I think. I’m sure he will talk to you if he gets the impression that you are in the same situation he is in.” “Okay I’ll try to start up a conversation with him then.” Jessie walks over to him to get his attention, but instead makes him jump up in the air and says ‘Sweet Jesus!’ about ten times before he finally calms down. “Holy lord dude you about made me fill my britches. Sorry this whole experience is just so……crazy for me. I don’t think I look too bad, but my agent Lorenzo keeps telling me that I need to lose the fat. Am I really that fat?” Bronson lifts his shirt and shows off his ball belly which is covered in brown hair. Jessie makes a gesture with his face then smiles. “Well Bronson, Thomas over there told me your name and I think you look pretty sexy. Obviously the company has something else in mind for you though. Ohh…..and my name is Jessie by the way.” He shakes Bronson’s hand and puts his left arm around him. Bronson calms down a bit and pulls his shirt back down. “Thanks dude for being cool. Maybe this won’t be as hard on me as I thought it would be.” Thomas walks over to them as Jessie puts his other arm around his back. Jessie realizes that he getting great vibes from both of these men now. Victor and the other agents disappear as another large man walks in front of them and directs them into a side room. They follow as he has them sit in three empty seats located ten feet from his desk. He sits down and takes his jacket off revealing his under armor shirt which is hiding nothing from them. His immense muscles look as if they are about to break free as Jessie moans under his breath as he unknowingly stares at the man’s insanely veiny arms. The man looks directly at him and grins. “I see someone has a muscle fetish. That is great since you were likely picked partly for that reason. Each one of you was selected because Maximum Nutrition received letters from your respectable gyms about making a huge change in your lives. All three of you will have your own surrogates whom you have already met back in your respectable hometowns. As for myself, I will be overseeing your progress while you are here. My name is Arliss Mancari, and I would like to say that I also went through the program that you are about to enter. I was one of the first winners they ever had in the lottery.” He stands up and moves around the front of his desk to sit his giant bubble butt on the edge while he crosses his arms. Jessie continues to stare at him like he is in some kind of trance. Arliss smirks as he looks at the other two men. “You are Jessie right? *he points at him* Bronson is on the left correct? Which means that Thomas must be on the right? You all have different body types which should be interesting because this doesn’t happen that often. I want to individually speak with each one of you just so I can get an idea of what you are expecting to get out of all of this.” He stands back up and tells Bronson and Thomas to leave the room. Jessie turns red as he sits in his chair looking quite embarrassed. Arliss walks around his desk again to pull his desk chair in front of Jessie before sitting down in it not even two feet away. His testosterone is permeating the small man’s nose which is making him sigh just a bit. He looks into Arliss’s eyes making the huge stud grunt a few times. “So Jessie, I believe your surrogate is Victor Dumas right?” “Yeah he seems really cool. Very personable and friendly, I like him.” “He is quite friendly. He was in the lottery just a couple of years ago and he is one of its huge success stories. He was quite skinny, but a real cutie too. I have noticed that you study people’s physical attributes constantly. You haven’t taken your eyes off mine since you came in here. I admire that a lot. I am not going to lie to you, I get hunches about our clients each year and normally I am right about how well they respond to the program.” “So you think I will do well here?” “I think you will be a HUGE success story. *he winks* I’m not just saying that Jessie, you will literally explode in size because you are open to it. I can sense it in you. You want to study my body a little more?” He stands up and tries to take his shirt off but motions for help. Jessie gets up as well to help him slide it off his upper body as his muscles spill out. He grabs Jessie’s hands and puts them onto his pecs and arms. Jessie squeezes them. “Don’t be afraid of me Jessie, I want you to feel them all since you can have this kind of power as well. Our bodies deep down have this kind of potential to grow.” Jessie continues to rub his massive arms and runs his hands on the giant veins running up from his forearms into his shoulders. He moans as he stares into Arliss’s eyes. “Feels nice huh? There is more of course.” Arliss pulls his pants down as he flexes his enormous calves and quads. His jock is barely able to hold his cock and balls in as his giant bubble butt gleans with sweat. The smell of testosterone nearly makes Jessie pass out. “Oh my gawd, I didn’t think it was possible to get this big?” He rubs Arliss’s veiny legs and squeezes his bubble butt. Arliss begins to moan deeply as he looks down at Jessie and smiles. “That feels great Jessie. You have a tremendous way of massaging muscles. I don’t normally do this with new clients, but I sense a strong thirst for muscle in you. I am feeling really horny now and won’t be able to keep my jock on much longer, think you can help me out with that?” Jessie stops touching him and backs off a bit. Arliss realizes he may have gone too far with him and backs off himself. “Oh sorry about that Jessie, I should know better than that but…..your touch is so nice that I don’t want you stop.” “Uhhh…..don’t you have a boyfriend or husband? I would think you could have any man you want.” “Yes I do have a husband and we have an open relationship. We both have no problem seeing other men as long as we trust each other. He is the founder of this company by the way, Maxwell Hardy. He has his own boy toy and I am still searching for one actually. Perhaps I should end this consult and move on to the other two?” Jessie sits back down and tries to calm himself a bit before getting up and walking back over to Arliss again to rub his massive back and glutes as he leans up against him. The big stud moans deeply as he reaches his enormous arms around to rub on Jessie a bit. “See I knew you had a desire inside you. Do you want to try and help me out of that jock again?” Jessie gets down on his knees and smells the sweaty jock before running his tongue along it as he reaches up to squeeze Arliss’s swollen pecs and abs. The big man pulls Jessie’s shirt off slowly trying not to rip it as well as his shorts. He sees that Jessie doesn’t wear underwear which makes him growl as the smaller man’s thick bull cock hangs freely. “Oh wow Jessie, I can foresee a body that will match that beautiful piece you have there. I need mine to be released from captivity as well.” Jessie pulls the man’s jock down as his thick uncut cock hits the smaller admirer in the face making him sigh before he slides his tongue down the foreskin. Arliss moans louder as he reaches down to rub Jessie’s head and shoulders. “Oh yes sir that feels awesome. You really know how to make a man feel really good.” Jessie slowly swallows his huge member down as he squeezes Arliss’s giant arms and gets a steady rhythm going on it. The big stud immediately starts to drain precum down his throat which is making Jessie work even harder. “OH FUCK YOU HAVE A HUNGER JESSIE! I LOVE IT! MMMM KEEP GOING MAN. MAKE ME CUM HARD!’ Jessie moves his hands over to Arliss’s huge pecs teasing his swollen nipples and slapping them hard making the big man yell in excitement. The huge man starts to massage Jessie’s firm ass, even fingering his hole. “OH JESSIE, IT IS COMING MAN! GET READY FOR IT!” Jessie can feel the bigger man’s huge balls contracting as the cum flows into his cock as Jessie looks up into his top’s eyes and moans deeply. Arliss explodes down his admirer’s throat shooting rope after thick rope of his white river feeling Jessie’s eager mouth swallow every single drop. “LET ME SEE IT JESSIE! *Jessie opens his mouth* OH GAWD YEAH, YOU HAVE THE LUST FOR MUSCLE! The company is going to have a field day with you. Now get up here hot stuff so you can sit on my desk and I can return the favor.” Jessie gets up and sits on the desk as Arliss walks over and shoves his heaving pecs in his face which promptly makes Jessie nurse them as he sucks on both of his nips hard. Arliss moans deeply as his partner munches and licks them over and over again. “Awesome Jessie, that feels incredible! A little more massaging on my tits and you will get a mighty tasty reward for your effort.” Jessie takes this to heart as he works both nips over several more times. Arliss laughs as he massages his small admirer’s cock slowly. “OH YEAH JESSIE LIKE THAT…..JUST LIKE THAT…..OH GAWD THAT FEELS SO GOOD…..MMMMMM” Jessie can feel Arliss’s pecs contracting as he shoots several streams of milk down his partner’s throat with each pec. Jessie moans loudly as he feels a load starting to build up in his own ballsac. “I can feel it man, let me take care of that for you.” Arliss slides down to swallow Jessie’s cock and slowly sucks on it feeling the cum building up quickly. He sighs deeply as Jessie moans louder feeling it move towards his cockhead. Arliss opens his mouth to watch it squirt as several ropes launch into his mouth and cover parts of his face. He grunts as he slides Jessie’s cock back inside his mouth to gulp down what is remaining. He smacks his admirer’s back lightly and smiles. He pulls it back out after Jessie stops cumming. “Jessie wow we need to do this again soon because this was fucking great. I think you are destined to not only be big like me, but to be with someone like me.” He stands up and puts Jessie’s hands back on his chest. Jessie leans in to start kissing his abs as Arliss flexes his massive guns. His engorged member bounces making Jessie reach down to grab it and start rubbing in quick, firm strokes. Arliss nearly yells feeling another giant load building up in his balls again. “Oh yeah Jessie I have another one waiting for you. Mmmmm…..fuck you really know how to turn me on.” Jessie moans as Arliss shoots several more jets of cum this time all over his upper body. The smaller man leans down to lick the spurting cock with his tongue catching a few strings as they go flying down his throat. Arliss laughs again as he gently rubs Jessie on the head. He finishes cumming and the two men sit together on the desk. “Whew Jessie, you are one sexy fucker. You have made a friend here today for sure. I will do everything I possibly can to make this experience work for you. I will have to wait and see the other two men another time now it seems.” He laughs and rubs Jessie’s chest a few times before stopping. “This was an awesome experience for me as well Arliss. I didn’t know this was inside me. I was so scared to come here without my ex, but now I feel alright.” “Heh, you may have several exes once you get out of here Jessie. I just hope that I have a chance with you once your program is completed.” The two sweaty men try to pull themselves together before they put their clothes back on. Arliss contacts his assistant and tells him to reschedule his consults with Bronson and Thomas until later in the day. As Jessie prepares to leave the room, Arliss stops him and lifts him up to give him a kiss on the lips. The small man moans as they feel a connection forming between them. When they finish, they smile at each other as Arliss puts him back down. Jessie leaves to find his room as Victor waits for him down the hall. Arliss realizes that he is developing a crush on the smaller man which surprises him greatly. End of Part 2

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use.