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  1. Hey Guys, here it is, the last chapter of Hard Mountain. It feels really weird putting this up. Thank you for everyone that's liked and commented, it's meant a lot. This started off as something a lot shorter and, like a muscle, the more I worked on it the more it grew. So thank you for reading, enjoy the last part. It's a bit of a wrapping up kind of thing but hopefully it'll satisfy. I'm working on another long story but it's nowhere near ready yet, though I have a story to put up next week that you should enjoy. Anyway, here we go... Chapter One Chapter Two Chapters Three and Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapters Seven and Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Hard Mountain - Chapter Fourteen: The week before we headed back to campus, I had gone home early to see my family. Danny had driven me back and was heading to the apartment we’d found off-campus to get us set up. Most of his belongings were in Jack’s jeep that had driven up behind us the whole way. My Stepdad was at work and my sister was back at college so only my Mom was waiting for me. I knocked on the door as Danny drove off and soon Mom had answered. “Hey Mom,” I said, nervously. “Sam?” she said, looking me over. “You’ve… grown. When did you get so tall?” We both chuckled and she led me inside. I took a seat in the living room and she brought me some water, sitting next to me on the sofa. “You had a good time at the cabin then?” she asked. “It was incredible,” I said, smiling. “You remember how big Danny was? Well his dad, Jack, is a big guy too. They got me off my ass and I started hitting the gym. I think I had a bit of a late growth spurt out there, my jeans started getting a little high on my ankles but Jack was really nice and bought me some new clothes. They both… they really helped me out there. I managed to start coming to terms with Dad’s death. They… they helped me talk through it.” Mom smiled, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it. “I always worried about you when you were younger,” she said. “You… you held your father so highly. He was your hero, you would literally be stuck to him like glue every minute you could. You probably don’t remember but you refused to see him when he was really sick. Even when he died, you refused to go to his funeral but I made you. It was heart breaking, seeing you like that.” “I know,” I said, sadly. “I’ve regretted it though. But with Jack and Danny’s help, I’ve started coming to terms with it. I’m beginning to move on. Danny lost his mom too, when he was six, they had some good advice. They… listened. I miss him, Mom. I’ve missed him everyday since he...” I started crying and Mom pulled me into a tight hug as she cried with me. We just let it all out. “So,” she said after a while, wiping her face dry. “What did you get up to? I want to hear all about it.” “Well we went hiking a lot,” I said. “The cabin is out in the middle of nowhere, beautiful forest. We explored caves and I even climbed a mountain.” “Well, look at you!” she laughed. “It really did do you some good. I remember a time when I would read report card after report card detailing the many ways you were cutting gym class.” “Well, people change,” I said. “Well it’s a good change, for sure,” said Mom. “Did you and Danny find an apartment yet?” I nodded. “A pretty good one, actually. And… Danny and I… we’re dating.” I thought it best not to mention that I was also sleeping with Jack. Nonetheless, Mom smiled. “Well I never suspected he was… you know, but it’s good you’re seeing someone like him,” she said. “He’s a very nice boy, hopefully you’ll bring him over for dinner again? I’ll remember to make extra portions.” I spent the rest of the afternoon at home catching up with Mom about what had happened while I was gone. When my Stepfather came home I gave him a tight hug and told him how much I loved him, how much I appreciated him as a father figure. After dinner, I feigned sleepiness from my long journey home and hid up in my room to check a whole summer’s worth of posts. My yahoo lit up with dozens of messages from friends asking how I was and where I was. I began a topic on the forum and began to write, adding some photos I’d taken of myself at the cabin. Hey guys, sorry I’ve been gone so long! That cabin I told you I was going to had no internet! L I have a lot of catching up to do but first I thought I would tell you everything that has happened over the summer. Remember my roommate I was telling you about? Well, his dad? HUGE! 365lbs of beef. They had their own gym out there and… I started using their stuff. I placed a photo of myself from before the summer into the post. This is what I looked like before I went. Yeah, I was skinny. But while I was out there… I got bit. Bit by the lifting bug. Now look at me: I placed a photo of myself from last week in the post. I worked like a beast and now I’m nearly 170lbs. I feel incredible; they really pushed me hard out there. Speaking of my roommate… we’re now dating. I am now dating a real muscle guy. He told me that he had been working hard during our freshman year so that he could impress me and we finally admitted that we liked each other. His dad is cool with it too, which is great. I became really close with his dad too. I need to talk to them about posting pics because I’m not sure how they’d feel about it. I want you guys to see what I was living with over the summer but we’ll see. My boyfriend knows about the site though but you’ll probably be seeing more of him anyway as he wants to be a pro bodybuilder. We have a plan too, he’s gonna enter some local comps and we’ll see how things go. I’m really, really happy. This summer has changed my life completely and everything feels right. I’m gonna continue to lift and get bigger and I have a beautiful man to watch get bigger too. He’s put on some mass over the summer as well. He’s just under 275lbs right now (and he knows how to use it ). I’ll post some more updates in the future but for now, I gotta run. Talk to you all soon. -- Hard Mountain - Epilogue: Five Years Later: “And the winner of this year’s Mr Olympia is… Danny Maine!” I jumped from my seat and screamed as Danny walked across the stage, holding his trophy aloft in triumph. At 6’2”, 390lbs and 2% body fat, Danny’s golden and oiled monstrous muscles looked incredible under the stage lights, making his body bulge as he screamed in victory. Jack pulled me into a tight hug, wiping tears from his eyes. Danny had the biggest, most vascular and perfectly symmetrical body of all the competitors, plus his bright blue posers had the biggest bulge too. We headed backstage and Danny pulled us into his huge chest and we squeezed each other tight. Danny was crying, I was crying, Jack was crying; we were all so happy. “You did it,” I said. “I knew you would!” “I’m so fucking proud of you, both of you,” said Jack. Jack tapped on the medal of my chest; I’d won the Mr Olympia Men’s Physique competition earlier in the day. I was now 210lbs even, 5’10 and 3% body fat. Danny pulled me into his body and kissed me, his huge pecs pressing into mine. I could feel my cock starting to get hard, as was Danny’s and we both blushed and giggled. “Boys, save it for when we’re in the hotel,” whispered Jack. We walked out onto the floor where people were taking photographs of Danny. He flexed and showed off his trophy as journalists shouted questions. “Danny! How does it feel to win?” “What’s next for you?” “Are you planning to compete again next year?” “Guys, please!” said Danny, smiling. “One at a time. I’m very proud of myself today but I couldn’t have done it without my Dad who raised me alone most of my life and my beautiful partner, Sam Richter. Without them, I wouldn’t be here today.” He waved us over and we stood on either side of Danny. We held up our medals and trophies and Jack grinned with pride. Danny kissed me again, cheekily cupping my big, bulbous glutes in my posing shorts. “Sam! What does your win today mean for your career as an author?” “Danny, will you and Sam be getting married?” “When’s the next book out Sam?” “Is it true you’re studying to be a lawyer, Danny?” Life was good. Danny had won a bunch of amateur and national competitions whilst we were at college and I spent every summer with him and Jack at the cabin, while Danny spent Christmas and thanksgiving with my family. When we graduated, the three of us went to Europe and Danny competed in some international competitions to great success. I’d written a novel in college that had been released last year to good reviews and even won a couple of small awards. I’d recently finished my follow up and it was being released in the next few months. I’d spent the last year competing too, winning some competitions but I wasn’t looking to make a career of it. I did it because Danny and Jack had encouraged me to take a chance. Jack was a great guide for us, always happy to dispense advice and help, and he’d begun to work from home more so he could spend as much time with us as he could. Once a year, no matter where I was in the world, I would make my way to climb Hard Mountain on the anniversary of my Dad’s death. It was a journey I would take alone and I would get into the pool on the top of the mountain and I would see him there. We just talked, I’d ask him for some advice but mostly I would just listen to him talk. Once our time was up, I would make my way down the mountain back to the cabin where Jack and Danny would be waiting. We’d converted mine and Danny’s old rooms into one big bedroom so the three of us could sleep together on a specially built bed. This was our home now, the three of us together, with no one to disturb us. The End --
  2. There is a part 1, although it isn't strictly a necessary read. Jack heaves bolt-upright in bed in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and breathing hard. Driving rain against the window is overpowered by the sound of his heartbeat. His pulse is strong and quick; he feels every drop of his blood course through his tense muscles. He sports an impressive semi-erection in his underwear, and his hard nipples slide up and down underneath the tight white nightshirt. His masculine jawline clenched tight, he pulls the sheets away from his soaked torso and swings his feet out of bed. His muscular frame rises to full height as the bed groans, as if sighing in relief. He knows what he has to do. His heavy footsteps catch his attention momentarily, and he ponders if he should be bothered to put on pants, but his urges are far too strong to be overridden by rational thought. Jack catches a glimpse of his primal eyes in the mirror as he reaches for his car keys, wrenches open the front door and steps out into the heavy summer rain. His driving erratic, he swerves from left to right as he climbs the dimly-lit road into the mountains. All he can think about is getting to his destination. His steely 9-inch cock is fully excited now. It moistens his lower cobblestone abs with copious amounts of pre-cum; the thick shaft perfectly outlined by the fabric. His breathing rapid, he caresses himself through his shirt and lets out a guttural moan. He plants his foot, speeding faster up the ascent through the rain and darkness. His powerful muscles are primed for the task which awaits. *** Deep within a nearby mountain, a handsome, brown-haired man with glasses sits patiently at a large computer terminal. His stomach is in knots as he turns a black business card over and over and over between his fingers. The card's smoothness soothes him somewhat, but his eyes remain wide and fixated on the screen in front of him. The large, open computer lab is lit intermittently by the monitor, which at this moment is receiving the feeds from all the facility's security cameras as they peer into the night. The motion is crystal clear but black and white, and silent on the screen; a tree branch whips in and out of view against the blustery rain. "A vehicle is approaching," warns a computerised voice. The handsome, brown-haired man jumps at the break of silence. He, like Jack, is rather excited, as evidenced by a heavy bulge in his khakis. "Thank you," the man replies eagerly to the artificial intelligence. "Complete lock-down procedure. Please ensure Jack is fully visible at all times." With a bleep-boop of acknowledgement, the screen flicks over to show CAM001, just as the headlights of a pickup truck swing into view. The man stands, and briskly strides over to a steel-barred cage which is built into the cavern wall. The thick bars encompass only a tiny area--just enough for one person to stand trapped against the wall. "This is it." He bites his lip excitedly and pushes his shoes off, a heel at a time. He starts fumbling to undo the buttons on his shirt, but decides to leave it on instead. He quickly steps into the cage, and commands the door to be locked behind him. The artificial voice confirms his instructions, and the heavy steel slides into place. "Lock-down complete," the computer announces. "Good," says the man, who has already removed his pants to reveal his eagerness, trapped within his underwear. He rubs the tip of his engorged cock through the fabric. "Give me a good show, Jack," he smirks. "Show me what your powerful alpha-muscles are capable of." *** Outside, Jack's pickup comes to a halt. As the car door swings open, trunk-like legs meet the road. He stands, and takes a few steps out into the open rain. The truck's headlights illuminate the hunk of a man as he turns slowly to face the security camera and tilt his head to return its gaze. His solid body casts shadows of his tight underwear and raging manhood within, powerful torso, chest and arms. Clinging to his body, his wet top leaves nothing to the imagination; outlines of his bulging pecs and abs heave with his aroused breath. Jack knows he's being watched. He winks and bounces his pecs for the camera before he steps out of view, leaving his truck behind. His strong legs march him into a dimly lit cave and along a narrow path until finally, Jack comes face to face with his first challenge: a large, vault-like door set into the rock face. Standing an inch from the door, his head lowered but eyes forward, his breathing is still as deep and primal as it was at the house. He leans forward and presses the outline of his cock and upper body against the door to feel its coolness. His heart thuds faster and his cock jumps to full attention again. Nostrils flared, he steps back to analyse the door. A keypad blinks on the right-hand side of the large circular door, barred with two beams of steel passing through a giant rotor wheel. He smirks -- he knows this to be no match for his powerful physique. His low voice teases, "I hope you're watching Evan, because I'm not one for knocking." *** Evan is still self-restrained in the reinforced cage several rooms away from Jack, deeper into the mountain. Having yanked his underwear off, he stands with nothing but a collared shirt, slowly masturbating to the sight, and now voice, of Jack's surly presence at the entrance. He's keen to see just how much of a fight the door will put up. "Computer: Announce all intrusion attempts, countermeasures, malfunctions, and system destructions as they occur." Evan licks his lips and begins beating his rod a bit faster in anticipation. He wants to see and hear the pure domination of Jack's muscle over his machinery. He becomes a bit light-headed as there is movement of Jack's big frame on the screen, and the computer announces, "Alert: Intrusion attempt underway. Main entry keypad has been destroyed." *** Having driven it into the wall over an inch, Jack pulls his solid right shoulder away from what used to be the blinking keypad, as it crackles and buzzes. "I hope you don't mind," he smirks, "if I let myself in." His hands, guided by eager twitches of his powerful arms and chest, reach for the large circular locking mechanism in the centre of the door. Grabbing either side, his arms lengthen slightly and biceps begin to bulge. The sleeves can barely contain the stud's arms as they grow and strengthen. His pecs, tight and steely, join in on the onslaught against the steel. He grunts a loud guttural enjoyment as he pulls and flexes. The vault's large bolts and locks begin to grind and squeal for mercy against the immense power of Jack's arms and chest. The heavy steel inside the locking mechanism takes the full force of Jack's mighty muscle-powered assault; it starts to turn white and buckle. Jack smirks and grunts again, louder this time, his cock bouncing with pleasure; the feeling of raw strength coursing through his body, bending and twisting with all his might. The protective beams and locking wheel, made to withstand explosives and immense pressure, are now being mangled and bent by Jack's powerful arms and pumped chest. The moaning steel is crunched and deformed under his grip, and cracks begin to appear in the wall adjacent. *** "Alert: Main entry compromised. Activating defences." The display of raw strength during Jack's destruction of the main entry door proved too much for Evan, as he shakes and squirts a healthy load of cum through the bars of the cage. "Fuck yes, Jack. Show me what kind of man you are." *** The bank-grade lock, having failed against the man's might, now hangs feebly from the door's innards. A sharp pull sideways, and a powerful kick sends the heavy door falling inward. Almost laughing, he pulls down the underwear over his pumped legs as he strolls into the next room over the mangled heap of the door, his steely pecs and arms still heaving with his breath. He raises both arms and perfectly round biceps flex in granite. The pumped guns burst open his sleeves as Jack grunts in an alpha pose. "I know you're an arms man, Evan. These puppies ain't just for show." He winks again to the camera he knows is looking on, and slowly reaching down, rips the taught white fabric off his torso, before letting it fall to the floor. Sweat and moisture drip down his stunning beast of a chest and cobblestone abs. Jack's rock-hard 9-incher can't be contained by his underwear, which has crept up and out from his waistband and presses against his taught stomach. His thick cock is leaking reels of slippery lube, getting ready to squirt into its lucky recipient. Suddenly, a large compartment opens, containing a 6'5" android. The solid, high-tech legs carry its bulk nimbly; its head blinks with lights and chirps. The whirring of the mechanisms is nearly deafening. "And what is this?" Jack yells over the top of the mechanised sounds coming from the robot as it quickly moves from its chamber and towards its target. He stands only 3 inches shorter than the mechanised fiend. "You don't actually think--" Jack raises his eyebrow, but is too slow to move out of the way of the giant's mechanical grip. It folds its shiny, plastic-covered arms around the muscular frame of the human and begins to tighten its grip. For a moment, Jack looks to struggle against the powerful pistons and motors contained within the robot. But Jack, knowing his own power, confidently smirks. Clearly, he is capable of destroying these feeble machines with a swift punch. But he knows Evan, his client, is paying good money for this show. And he expects to see some muscle-inspired destruction. Expanding his thick chest and engaging his rippling back muscles, Jack slows the constricting arms of the robot to a crawl, and then to a halt. There is a high-pitched hum as the robot's internal diagnostics begin to analyse the malfunction. "I think you'll find..." labours Jack, as he wrenches his arm free of the grip, "that you are about to be destroyed by these." He flexes his magnificent bicep again. He reaches down, and with the help of his other hand, begins to pry the android's arm backwards and out of its socket. There is loud cracking of plastic, followed by the whirrrrrrr of motors failing to maintain their integrity. Finally, a small explosion signals that the powerful pistons contained within the machine's arm were no match for Jack's python-like arms. The robot moves backwards, seemingly panicked to only be left with one functioning gripper. Its head lights up in a new pattern. Jack is grinning as he steps from the machine's grip. "All of this showing off has made me very horny." His green eyes twinkle in the light. He reaches down and with a single swift rrrrip, he liberates his beautiful dick and balls. The gorgeous thickness of his manhood stands proud, dripping with excitement, as he takes it in his left hand and begins to stroke. "Prepare to be short-circuited by the best sex you've ever had." Jack strides up to the andriod, and with one forceful shove, the machine falls backwards, smashing onto the floor. It attempts to upright itself, but with only one arm, has trouble. On its third attempt, it is making progress until Jack marches over, naked and throbbing, to force it back to the ground. Climbing on top of the mechanised plastic and steel, Jack raises his taut bubble butt into the air, priming the trajectory of his cock. He looks down at his artificially intelligent victim. "How much were you to construct, I wonder?" His powerful hips and ass drive his thickness into the belly of the machine. "Mmmmm," he moans, before exhaling loudly. "I bet you're the most expensive sex toy ever made!" Grunting and moaning, his hips thrust back and forth into the innards of the robot, while it makes some last attempts to escape. Jack's thick cock buries itself deep within the mechanics of its appendages. The casing of the robot begins to dent and cave inward. Oil begins leaking out and the smell of overheated motors fill the air. The robot, its only remaining signs of life the blinking on its face, makes petrified noises as it is slowly destroyed by each of Jack's thrusts. He's getting close to the edge of climax, and he knows he better make a good show of it. The sight of him fucking is enough to drive anybody wild; his thick legs supporting his weight as his powerful ass rams his manhood further into the machinery. His powerful arms ripple with horseshoe triceps and his back flexes and bulges. His domination of the powerful machinery is a sight to behold. He smirks, looking his prey in the face as he flexes his guns once more. The android continues to blink and beep weakly, and his fucking continues, as he reaches up and places a massive hand on either side of the robot's solid head. "Goodnight." The symphony of his flexing ass muscles and rock hard thrusting dick is joined by the bulging of his thick arms and pecs as Jack applies pressure to the robot's head. Moments pass, and Jack watches as his tremendous force begins to dent, and then crush the mechanical beast's skull. There are buzzes, sparks, and the smell of burning electronics as the blinking face disappears into itself. Jack's eyes roll into the back of his head and his beautiful physique tenses as wave after wave of sperm shoot into the robot's corpse, shorting the remaining circuitry. *** In the cage, now leaning against the wall, Evan is weak in the knees, having cum for the forth time watching the brilliant display of strength and manliness on the monitor. "Alert: Android destroyed." Jack's bulk is seen to pull out of the robot's remains, and step out of camera view. "Any moment now..." Evan is ready to shoot another load in excitement of seeing Jack in person. There is a loud explosion and the door, flimsy in comparison to the one (that used to be) at the main entrance, comes crashing to the floor. Jack is standing there broadly, pumped and shimmering, cock still engorged with lust. Several computer alarms sound. "Warning: Intrusion into main lab." Evan resumes masturbating furiously at the sight of Jack's amazing physique. Jack slowly approaches the cage, his chest heaving. He stops an inch from the bars. "Flex for me," Evan pleads. Jack smiles. His full pecs, glistening with sweat, bounce rhythmically. He poses for Evan, showing off his body from top to toe, ending in a trademark double bicep. Evan heaves for breath and moans. He's about to cum again. "Break me out, Jack. Show me what those arms can do up close." With another smirk, Jack positions himself and grips the reinforced steel. Almost immediately, there is a clang as the metal readjusts itself to the force being applied to it. "Warning: Intrusion attempt underway." Jacks arms bulge and flex once more, and again the steel begins a feint high-pitched vibration. An alarm sounds. "Warning: Safety cage losing structural integrity due to pressure exceeding tolerances." Jarring thuds and pangs spring from the bars as they begin to deform. Jack's rock-hard upper body is pumped and displaying incredible power. He lets out some grunts, and leaks more clear pre-cum from his excited stiffness. Another alarm sounds. "Warning: Destruction of safety cage imminent due to overwhelming pressure." The bars bend gently at first and then begin to warp to an obscene angle, and Evan squirms. Jack lets out a snarl. The reinforced bars fail and explode away from their moorings in the rock, causing a cloud of dust. "Danger: Safety cage has been destroyed. All countermeasures have been compromised by overwhelming force." A sexy grin on his face, Jack throws the remains of the cage behind him, hitting the opposite wall, causing more damage and noise. He steps into the cage with Evan, their bodies now pressed together, and Evan can't take it anymore. The overwhelming pleasure of their bodies touching, followed by Jack's caress which is now turning into a kiss, causes Evan to unload more than he ever has in his life directly onto Jack's glistening torso, and pass out. *** Evan wakes up in the semi-destroyed cage some hours later with an erection he guesses won't be going away anytime soon. In his shirt pocket is a fresh black business card, with "Jack" embossed into it. Jesus. Evan is going to have to try harder next time.
  3. Hialmar

    The Perilous Danger

    GUARDIANS OF THE CONTINENT Season 4 Episode 8 The Perilous Danger Most of the males of the family of Sir Neville Fink-Nottle-Reid had served in the civil service since the days of the Asquith cabinet, when agriculture no longer was enough to keep damp damages away from the family mansion in Flydale Major, located not very far from the slightly larger village Flydale Minor. Generations of his family had seen several Liberal, Conservative and Labour cabinets succeed each other, but only five monarchs during the same time. He sat in his hotel room in Brussels, and felt awkward. Another round of negotiations, and the phone call back to Whitehall hadn't turned out well. Wooster, one of Boris' advisers, saw nothing wrong in keeping Fink-Nottle-Reid in the dark about the next step in the Foreign Office's negotiation strategy, despite that he was the one supposed to speak for the British side. The phone call hadn’t turned out well: "Apparently the fact that you needed to know was not known at the time that the now known need to know was known, and therefore those that needed to advice and inform the Foreign Secretary perhaps felt that the information that he needed as to whether to inform other parts concerned of the known information was not yet known and therefore there was no authority for the authority to be informed because the need to know was not at this time known or needed. Please send my regards to Wombles and Plonky if you meet any of them in Brussels. They will probably be disappointed, when we leave the union, in eight years' time, or so.” Fink-Nottle-Reid wasn't surprised. Together with Wooster, he had begun his career under a civil service veteran, the famous – some would say infamous – Sir Humphrey Appleby (May he rest in peace), and they had both learned a lot from Sir Humphrey about how to explain matters. Fink-Nottle-Reid looked at his watch. It was still an hour left, until he was expected at the negotiations. He switched the telly on. "This is Selena Salcombe for BBC News." The BBC News anchor Salcombe was famous, not only for her journalism, but also for being the girlfriend of the British superhero Fearful Symmetry. By a peculier coincidence, a very large percentage of the world's male superheroes dated female journalists. She continued: "Elliot Carver, the man who owns all British tabloids and television channels, except for the BBC, has today succeeded Doctor Apocalypse as head of state, head of government and head of Supreme Court of Ruritania, as a consequence of Doctor Apocalypse's disappearance into the Paranormal Zone. It is the third disappearance of Doctor Apocalypse in eight years, and some independent observers express doubts about the duration of this new political arrangement. "Dmtr Szschnrjwiezky, the Poldakian prime minister, deny any responsibility for the Poldakian war on neighbouring Former Republic of Katagonia, since – he claims – the perpetrator wasn't him, but an android pretending to be a clone of his evil twin brother from an alternate timeline. After considering the evidence, brought to the court by Fearful Symmetry, Le Penseur, Blanc Bleu Belge, Kruppstahl and other members of the Guardians of the Continent, the Permanent Court of Arbitrations has decided to clear Prime Minister Szschnrjwiezky from any charges. Instead, the evidence seem to incriminate Doctor Apocalypse, as the one who originally engineered said android. "Last night, Doctor Dastardly broke out from a high-security prison in the Channel Islands. Authorities warn the general public: Doctor Dastardly is presumeably armed with paranormal weapons, he is irrational and a threat to public safety. In a communique, Interpol confirmed, that Guardians of the Continent are investigating the whereabouts of Doctor Dastardly. "A new accident occurred at a nuclear power station in Ukraine. Ukrainian authorities claim, that the situation is under control, and that it is harmless to dwell outdoors, but scientific experts warn residents against spending time outside, since the infamous Lieber-effect might cause unforeseen consequences to persons exposed to radiation, or exposed to things exposed to radiation. Experts consider it inadvisable, to let children play close to radioactive flies, midge, chaffinches or squirrels. The Swedish government has promised to send Swedish superhero Moderation Man to Ukraine, in order to assist in bringing the radiation levels down to normal background levels." The TV screen now turned to a clip of Moderation Man hurling himself up in the air, with his characteristic battlecry: "Up! Up! Nothing in excess!” The screen returned to the familiar face of Selena Salcombe, who just smiled, and said: ”And now, the weather report…” Fink-Nottle-Reid turned the telly off. He knew, that his sister would spend the next weekend at the family mansion with their brother, the present Lord Flydale. He knew, that he was invited, and he knew, that his sister would bring her second husband. The entire arrangement caused him to feel uncomfortable. He rose, took his jacket off, and watched himself in the hotel room mirror: pencil neck, delicate features, thin arms, well-dressed, and not belonging anywhere. Most of the men and women he grew up with, and definitely the older generation still alive at that time, would have regarded physical exercise as something beneath their dignity. Boxing was accepted, even encouraged, unless boxing caused you to look muscular. He had succeeded well in meeting the expectations of society, spent most of his childhood in St. George’s, a well-renowned resident private school in Spiffing Snodsbury, at the time while Swinging London turned into the Punk Era, spent his young adult years as a university student at Wolsey College in Oxford during the early Thatcher years, and stayed thin and well-mannered, as his environment expected him to be. When the new millennium began, physical exercise became fashionable, and he felt deserted by time. He felt like he had been robbed of his youth, being somewhere else when the fun things occurred, and he felt like he had been robbed of his adult life as well. His elder brother, Lord Flydale, served in the civil service, at a comfortable sinecure post somewhere in the Department for Administrative Affairs, and spent considerably more time home up north, hunting one or another defenceless animal, than spending time at his work in Westminster. Discussions about literature, art or music didn’t fly, when his brother was around. If it wasn’t about geeze, deers, hunting rifles, leaking roofs or political gossip, his brother was unable to conversate. Latona, his older sister, had divorced one of the grandsons of the infamous Sir Reginald Spode, and married Bill, her Personal Trainer, instead. There was something about Latona, which reminded him of great grandaunt Constance, but he couldn’t exactly put his finger on it. To be around his brother would be exhaustingly boring, and to be around Bill would be intimidating. Etiquette demanded his presence, but he didn’t look forward to it. He didn’t fit in anywhere, and he had remained unmarried. He recollected his thoughts on the work at hand, and rehearsed his introductory statement: "Her Majesty's government has been very clear, that the clarity, by which it has clarified its stance on the issue, do not need any clarification, and let me be clear, that the clearness of this stance, clearly express what we expect from the outcome of these negotiations. Only a less clearheaded individual would claim, that any further clearing clearance on the matter would be needed to clarify the clarity of the issues. The Prime Minister and my predecessor in Brussels have both been perfectly clear on this, and I am convinced that every clearsighted observer will admit, that no further clarifying declarations -- even on the trade of éclairs between Clare in Suffolk and County Clare -- are needed. We will secure secure regulations on animal health and safety, though enacted independently from decisions made in the European Union, so that both the member countries of the European Union and the United Kingdom may avoid, that any stable become unstable in the future: Every stable must be a strong and stable stable, and no stable must be an unsafe and unstable stable. The cabinet is strongly in favour of continuing co-operation on security and stability -- even considering action to further strengthen security and stabilize safety -- and any other outcome, than a strong and stable United Kingdom, a strong and stable European Union, strong and stable security and strong and stable stables is outside the strongly held vision, that envisions a future of security safely secured by stable strength and strong stability. And we have been very clear about this." * * * Guardians of the Continent will be back after this TV commercial: ”Do you want massive gains in the gym?” ”Have you worked out for years, with no results?” ”Use New Improved Superior Hyper-Anabole Ultra-Blitzkrieg Max Superpump-hypertrophy Gain Testo Bro Gro Pro for Real Men with a new improved formula!”* *(Please note, that overuse of this product may cause kidney failure and diabetes.) * * * Afterword I hereby acknowledge, that Antony Jay and Jonathan Lynn invented Sir Humphrey Appleby, and that my pastiche of his way of expressing himself make use of some famous lines written by Jay and Lynn. I do not intend to steal any intellectual property, nor make any financial gains by using them for a referential and humorous purpose. I also acknowledge, that this story and its continuation do contain numerous allusions to many tropes and characters from popular culture, but I will not spoil the fun to those who will try to find them and list them.
 And no, I don't like commercials.
  4. Hialmar

    Unit 246: Interlude

    First chapter is found here: Former chapter is found here: Unit 246: Interlude ”Is there any Mr. or Mrs. Czythia in your life?” Unit 246 was sitting in a space harbour with Sister Czythia, though the title Sister was just an archaic convention. There were male human nurses called Sister, and the extra-terrestrial physiology of Sister Czythia made it even more of a non-gendered word. ”No, I live for my work as a nurse, in this phase of my life. Death will come soon enough.” ”It sounds lonely. Even some of us Units have someone dear in a harbour or two.” Nurse stared at him, and expressed vapours of surprise and disbelief. ”You don’t read about Bleronia in school, do you?” ”My memories of school are fragmentary. It feels like I have aways been a Unit. The only knowledge kept, is the one reinforced by the Programming. We read about the First Encounter, the Peace Treaty and the emergence of the Galactic Empire, but not much about details, unless you are Blero-geek or a Blerotarian." ”A Blerotarian? Oh, forgive me. I had forgotten about the First Blerotarian Galactic Church of Intermediate Days’ Benevolents. Now, when you mention them – yes, I am aware of their existence.” ”Have you ever wondered why we Bleronians find it so hard to translate the words for… let me see… ’sex’, ’children’, ’death’ and ’suicide’?” ”Sorry, wasn’t aware.” Sister Czythia had changed their way of speaking, like they were talking to a young child: ”You see, when three Bleronians love each other very, very much…” ”Three?” ”Don’t interrupt me. When three Bleronians love each other very, very much, they merge, and then they divide into three offspring. What you humans call ’sex’ is in every practical sense the same as what you call ’suicide’. That’s why the Bleronian-French expression suicide passionnel has entered several human languages.” ”Don’t the children remember their past life?” ”Not the life of their three parents, no. Some do remember the past lives of their middle souls.” ”Middle souls?” ”We believe Bleronians have three souls. The upper soul comes from The Great Spirit, and returns to The Great Spirit at final cell division. The middle soul transmigrates – sometimes as another Bleronian, sometimes as other life forms, even on other planets, other realities or as a being in Purgatory. Perhaps my middle soul has been a human in the past? After final cell division the lower souls of the three parents are honoured by the three resulting children and their descendants, and it might sometimes return to haunt the living. That’s what the memorial household-shrines are for.” ”So you simultaneously believe in salvation, reincarnation and ghosts?” ”We don’t use these words. They do not entirely convey the meaning of the Bleronian words about the matter, and it would be impolite and insensitive to project telepathic communication about that subject matter. Human Blerotarians are considered mistaken by most Bleronians.” ”Why? On Earth, religious adherents try to spread their religions. Don’t Bleronians like, when human Blerotarians take up the Bleronian way?” ”That’s not true. I have read about the Human paths of customs you call Confucianism, Hinduism, Sikhism, Judaism, Shinto and Zoroastrianism. They do not hunt new adherents like the human Blerotarians do. Bleronians do not recruit humans to the Bleronian way of doing things, and on that point Blerotarianism is a self-contradiction. Knocking on doors? Public revival meetings? Very strange. Very non-Bleronian, but rather Human, though, as I said, not typical for all humankind.” ”Do Humans have three souls?” ”How could we know? You’d better ask yourself that question. What if you have four? Or seven? Even if you have three souls, you don’t need to behave in a Bleronian way to cultivate them. One or several of your existing Human paths of customs might be what Humans need, but how would I know? I’ve understood that three ancestor-spirits are of particular importance to your species: Buddha, Jesus and Mohammad.” ”Uh. It’s complicated, and I’m not an expert, but I’m sure, that it is more complicated than what you say. Let’s talk about something else, eh?” ”As you wish.” Unit 246 inhaled to begin another topic, but abruptly arched in what seemed like a sense of pain. His eyes were tightly closed, and the metal table they shared was bended out of proportion by his powerful legs. Their glasses fell to the floor, and Sister Czythia asked in their usual calm and empathic voice: ”Unit 246, are you all right? What’s happening?” ”My name is William! Yes, Max, yes, Sarge, I’m coming! I know who I am!” * * * To be continued.
  5. Hialmar

    Unit 246: Chapter Five

    Chapter One is found here: Chapter Four is found here: Unit 246 Chapter Five Unit 389 had still been enraptured in the feeling of becoming as empowered as a neutron star, as unyielding as a being of chrome and tungsten, as disciplined as a fighting machine and as built as forgotten hero-god of the past, when someone or something cut the power supply off, and put an end to the relentless behaviour of Medical Artificial Intelligence 5. "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying. Hypertrophic Power. Thirty thousand seven hundred millibanner. And... And... Aaaaaannnd... Warning. Lacking power supplyyyy..." He and the two other units regained their awareness of their physical surroundings. Socket A and socket B were damaged by the size of the forearms and calves of Unit 388 and himself. The lead glass walls of the chamber had cracked, and the electric cables supplying the hypertrophic generators smelled like they had burned. Individuals in hazmat suits stood in Lab 5, some of them of non-enhanced size, others obviously fellow individual units. Still dazed by The Procedure, he and Unit 246 and Unit 388 had been helped out of the chamber. Someone in a hazmat suit carrying the insignias of a lieutenant spoke to him: "Attention all units! Number?" "Sir! Unit 246, Sir!" "Sir! Unit 388, Sir!" "Sir! Unit, 389, Sir!" "You will be escorted to MedBay." They were escorted to MedBay. Three other men already rested there: A non-enhanced private with a partially-transformed and disfigured arm and shoulder, and two individual units of uncertain upgrade with something similar to burns in their faces and their right arms. A human surgeon, a Bleronian nurse and Medical Artificial Intelligence 1 took some samples, and gave them some pills. The Emotion Access of the other units were disabled, and they remained silent, but the wounded non-enhanced man was angry when he regained consciousness: "I'm not sure exactly bloody what you three were doing in there, but you succeeded in making me a bloody freak, without even looking inside! Fuck what it hurts! The painkillers doesn't work! Nurse Zzmnczythia? May I have another painkiller?" The blue-skinned Bleronian expressed a vapour of pity through their blowhole, and answered: "A higher dosage could be dangerous, but I could give you a telepathic analgesic, until Doctor Lǐ has evaluated your unusual state. You have assimilated hypertrophic power without any preliminary injections, and so has two of the other wounded patients. I am not at liberty to administer any telepathic analgesic to a patient without express permission, according to the Human-Bleronian Communication Agreement of Common Galactic Ansible Date 200.374.615. Do I have your permission, Private?" "Of course you have my permission, Nurse. While you are at it, why don't you blast the brains out of those fucking hulk morons over there? I give you my permission to do that. Fuck, this hurts so damned much!" "I am not at liberty at blasting other patients without their own express permission, Private." "Sorry, Nurse. Forgot the absence of irony in the Bleronian language. Please zap me with the mind-ano, already." * * * They had been kept in MedBay for two shifts. The best treatment of the injured non-enhanced Private was found to be The Procedure, using Prototype Enhancement formula upgrade 7.2, which had been sufficiently evaluated to be used in a non-standard enhancement like this. The Private did't seem to enjoy the thought, as two Enhanced Special Marine Servicemen upgrade 7.1 strapped the patient to the wheeled sickbed and moved him to the undamaged Lab 4: "No! You can't do this! I want to remain myself! Don't make me one of them! My girlfriend will hate me!" * * * Lieutenant Fforbes had given him a scolding, and he deserved it, because Lieutenant Fforbes told him he deserved it, but the – part interrogation – conversation turned into something more analytic after a while. "Do you remember anything of the past, Unit 389?" "Negative, Sir! This individual unit came into existence two shifts ago, and exist for the purpose of enhancing his capacity and use his capacity to the utmost, for the sake of the Galactic Empire. I hope, that I have enhanced my capacity to the utmost, Sir!" "I see. Though the events at the Becoming of you and Unit 388 damaged Lab 5, your Becoming has given us new, updated and complementary data, of use for the Galactic Marine Corps." "Sir! Thank you, Sir!" "But the damage inflicted to Lab 5 and three passersby deserve punishment." Lieutenant Fforbes was silent a few seconds, but the new Unit, which had forgotten, that he once had been Sergeant Mulligan, continued to stare straightforward without flinching. "And you have caused another problem. His Majesty's Battleship Demogorgon will not be able to use hyperwarp, until a new series of hyperwarp-safe hibernation-pods are acquired. This might delay missions of great importance. I will find out a suitable punishment. Let me see... Unit 389 blacked out. When he returned to consciousness his phonewatch showed, that it was one shift later, and he stood outside Lieutenant Fforbes private quarters. He knew that he had been given an order to give a hand at the installation of the new series of pods at hibernation deck. When he arrived at hibernation deck, he found Unit 246 and Unit 388 there, assisting the short and tiny dockworkers with the anti-grav trolleys and the new, bigger, pods. Pods suitable to contain Enhanced Special Marine Servicemen of upgrade 8.1. * * * Unit 246 : Interlude is found here:
  6. Chapter One is found here: Chapter Three is found here: DISCLAIMER This chapter takes place in a leather bar, and there will be some kink. Please, be warned. Professor Schnackenburg's mistake Chapter Four Lucien felt playful and naughty, shy and daring. Above all, he felt worried for his own feelings. He was very attractive, wasn't he? Chad. But he was also his former bully. The entire situation was awkward and complicated and... Hard to understand. Neither was The Dungeon his usual sort of place. His friends from The Rainbow Unicorn had adviced him not to attend The Dungeon: "I'm not kidding! A curious little twink visited once, and he was locked into a room by four big leather daddies, who did unspeakable things to him! I'm not kidding!" To his critical reason, the anecdote didn't ring true. "If that is true, why hasn't the police locked the entire club down, by now?" Chad, on the other side, had sounded like a little kid playing cops and robbers, when Lucien phoned him the same evening, after they had met at the self-styled LGBTQ-friendly café: "Don't ask me which dress-code you should follow. Ask yourself which style you would feel tough and sexy in. You don't have to dress the same as I do. It doesn't always work like that. For some people it does, but not generally. I like to watch what other members have chosen to become – for a night or for a life time. For some it really is their everyday wear: The bikers, skins, scallies. For others, it is dress up over the weekend. I don't know how many scallies who turn out to be art directors and how many skins who turn out to be barristers, but they have fun." "Isn't it silly?" "Not if everyone else are playing the same silly game. Did you google 'Tom of Finland'?" "Yes. Cool, in a sort of old-fashioned way, but the moustaches are silly and dated. But I don't think I am able to carry leather in a convincing way, so I have been thinking..." "Let me guess: Scally! You would be a very cute scally lad, Lucien." "No, not scally. What would make you think that? I googled rubber." Chad became silent in the other end of the phone. "Hello, are you there?" "Uh Y-yes, Lucien, I am here. That was unexpected. Did you read something about - uh - playing wet games?" Chad had successfully caused Lucien (and the man at the next table) to feel uncomfortable earlier in the afternoon. It was with a certain amount of delight, Lucien answered, sensing that the unexpected turn of the phone call had made Chad embarrassed: "Oh yes. I read about it. Not more strange than using a raincoat on a rainy day, is it?" "Uh. Eh. Hm. If you say so." * * * Lucien returned from his memory to the present. It was two weeks later. While waiting for Chad, he had taken a stroll around the club, still feeling slightly shy. Most of the rooms were downstairs. It made the name of the club or bar more suitable. The bar, as such, was in one of the rooms, and he bought a lager. Picking up the behaviour of some other guests, he payed, grabbed the bottle, walked around, and took swigs right out of the bottle. He was used to buy pint glasses, but when in Rome... His gas mask dangled from his belt. He peeked into a dance floor. Club music pumping. Not much difference from The Rainbow Unicorn in that regard, but the dancing men dressed in a different way than the Unicorn crowd. Some of them had a more confident posture, than some of his friends, but even The Dungeon had its fair share of slightly shy men. Two of the scallies looked cute. A handful of the men in black leather obviously worked out hard at the gym, and looked similar to the Tom of Finland drawings he had seen online, but many of the leathermen were close to retirement age, with grey beards, and many of the younger ones were too slim to look like clones. People seemed friendly, even those who looked intimidating. A curtain hang over one of the doorways, with a small placard on the wall close to the doorway: Darkroom. He didn't get it – why dress like someone's fantasy man, and then disappear into an unlit room? Another room was considerably more interesting. Soft, red and blue light bulbs. An empty chair with handcuffs and footcuffs if some customers would be up to play games. Iron collars hanging from chains fastened to the wall. Lucien became excited. A sense of the forbidden... playing with each other. Two hands on his PVC-clad shoulders. Big hands. "You are already here! Glad to meet you, Lucien, and you look... Wow! Could never had guessed..." Chad was wearing army cargo trousers in a city camo pattern. They were held in place by blue braces and a broad glossy black belt with an enamelled belt buckle. The trousers were knit over the bootnecks of Chad's black, glossy boots, and the latter were knit tight by blue bootlace, in a pattern that looked like a ladder. An oxblood-coloured polo fitted tight over Chad's torso, handcuffs hung from his belt, and he was wearing a green Alpha bomber jacket. They watched each other. Lucien could see, that the sight of Lucien dressed entirely in rubber (except for the leather boots) caused a bulge to grow inside Chad's camo-clad fly. The impressive sight of Chad in skinhead gear, made Lucien to react in a similar way. They fell silent for a few seconds. "That look suits you", they both said in unison. Then they laughed. Chad noticed the bottle of lager in Lucien's hand. "Didn't I say, that I was going to pay your beer this evening? Follow me." Chad disappeared in the direction of the bar. "This is my friend. I will pay all his drinks, tonight.", Chad instructed the leather-clad man in the bar. "I'm so sorry, Lucien, but I should normally had got off my shift by now, but the other bouncer hasn't arrived yet, and one of the guests has fallen ill, and need a taxi from the back door. I will soon be back, so we can talk and have fun." Chad hugged him, and disappeared into the kitchen area. Lucien returned upstairs, close to the entrance. A strange green glow was shining from the windows of the gym across the road. Then it looked like a crowd of men was leaving the gym, crossed the street and approached the club. The man behind the counter at the entrance shouted into the office space behind him: "Where's the bouncer? Where's Chad? A crowd is gathering outside, and I can't determine if they are customers or trouble." Lucien couldn't determine it either. The men looked huge and impressive. They were dressed like they had just went off the set of a film shooting: Some sort of sword-and-sorcery film, presumeably, but they didn't look cheesy as some would have done in their place. On the contrary, they looked so impressive... so impressive... so... Lucien found it hard to think: The impossibly muscular ideal physiques of the men made him hornier, and his dick throbbed pleasantly, held in place by the rubber. Yeah – rubber was definitely his thing. Oh God! He wasn't aware of how right, and how wrong, his latest thought was. An impossibly tall man – a giant – seemed to lead the group outside, and walked in the middle of the crowd. He pointed at the locked door, and it opened miraculously. "Chad!", the army-clad man behind the counter yelled. The crowd of men clad in fur, leather and bronze-chainmail entered the reception area of The Dungeon, the giant gazed at Lucien, the receptionist and some other men who happened to be there, and the giant peeked down the staircase to the main area of the club. The music ended abruptly. Some of the lights went out. The office-door behind the counter opened, Chad emerged, took a few steps forward, and looked up in the face of the giant. The latter one began to spoke: "I'm Kortoth-Gnaah, war-god of The Sunken Hundred. You have been deemed suitable to become warriors of a forgotten aeon." A strange silence fell over the club. * * * Chapter Five is found here:
  7. Chapter one is here: Chapter two is here: Professor Schnackenburg's mistake Chapter Three Lucien waited inside the entrance of The Dungeon at the far end of the gay street. He was dressed in a black rubber shirt with yellow stripes, in a cut which emulated a polo shirt, and he was wearing very tight black, shiny rubber trousers. Football socks on his feet, inside white-laced boots with high bootnecks. He couldn't decide his own state of mind. Not Chad! Eagerness, lust and resentment battled about his mind, the latter already slightly tipsy because of the vodka shots. Not Chad! * * * Back in primary school and secondary school, Chad had made life a hell to Lucien. They couldn't have been more different. Lucien's parents worked with 'something in City', and Lucien took piano lessons. Chad's divorced mother worked in the plastics industry, and Chad – who was a fan of David Beckham and Wayne Rooney – played football. In primary school, the bullying mainly happened outdoors, in the schoolyard. Lucien could remember trousers wet of melting snow, wounds in his palms caused by falling on rubble, and streams of verbal insults. In secondary school, it either happened on his way home or during lunch break. The worst lunch break ever, happened when they were about 14, or so. Chad had dragged him inside one of the loos, dipped his head in the toilet, took his dong out and pissed at Lucien, shouting about 'poofters who don't deserve to live'. Lucien had no idea of why or how things changed after that, but Chad left Lucien alone and more or less avoided him. A few years later, shortly before leaving secondary school for sixth form, they actually had a reasonably good conversation in the school cafeteria. Chad had sat down at Luciens table and apologised for his past behaviour (well, the words didn't fall exactly like that, but that was the content of the message). Chad had hit puberty, then. His pudgy belly had disappeared, but his pug nose was still there. Chad had switched from football to the gym, and achievements were beginning to be noticeable. That didn't change Lucien's resentment, much. When puberty hit him, Lucien could spend late nights fapping at the thought of taking revenge on Chad. At some – undefined – point in the future, Lucien should dare to buy a membership at a gym, and Lucien should grow into a confident muscle monster, which would beat the shit out of Chad and smirk at the weaker Chad lying there in front of him... The undefined point in the future didn't happen. Lucien remained on the slim side, and didn't grow tall. He was still uncomfortable with the thought of weight training, but began to swim at his leisure time. He was now somewhere between the age of 25 and 30, and was writing a PhD in musicology. He spent lot of time in the gay street, and wasn't aware of the other guests, when he entered his usual café – The Chocolate Cave. A rainbow flag hang outside the entrance. He ordered the usual: A café au lait, some petit choux and an apple tart with custard. Most of the customers weren't much of a surprise, he even recognised the faces of some of them: Several pairs and groups of twinks, a bearded activist in flannel from an earlier generation (whom he vaguely knew from committee-work for LGBTQ rights years ago), a group of football dykes, and a very young punk rocker reading a paperback by Judith Butler. He couldn't believe his eyes, when he was looking for a table and heard a voice he hadn't wished to hear: "Oi! Lucien! Over here, mate!" A man his own age waved at him from one of the tables. His broad (and tattooed) shoulders and mighty chest were revealed by the elastic black tank top (with the white print TOP in army letters), and his jeans were faded. The man's head was entirely shaved, and his ears were adorned with several sorts of piercings. Lucien wouldn't have recognised the man, if it wasn't for the voice and the pug nose. It was Chad. Hesitatingly, Lucien sat down at Chad's table. "Haven't seen you for years! What are you doing nowadays?" Chad had to drag the words out of Lucien's mouth, but Lucien told him about musicology and swimming. He didn't say anything about LGBTQ rights, but his thoughts were running in all directions inside his mind: Chad gay? But why did he behave like he did in the past? And why so friendly now? We all grow up. He had began to improve already at age 16, remember? Sexy Chad! "They can research anything, nowadays, can't they? Mu-si-co-logy. Never heard about it before. To me, research is about space rockets and medicine and atoms and stuff, not stuffy old musicians, but if it's up your alley, I don't complain. You like it, I suppose?" Chad emitted the scent of some anti-perspirant and soap. A big black nylon bag – with the letters GASP – laid on the floor close to Chad's adidas-clad feet. Lucien's string of thoughts continued to race: Can't find the old monster sexy! Not a monster any longer. Mature now. Those muscles! The entirely changed appearance! Not a pudgy little bully anymore. Neither a tiny twink of the type he usually dated. THAT'S a man. Can't... Can't... like him. Those eyes... Can't. "And another thing. So sorry about schooldays. I was really, really an idiot. A dickhead actually. So stupid. I'm so sorry. No, I really mean it. So sorry. Why would I have to be afraid of you, when I was, actually, myself, you know..." They continued to talk. For Lucien it was an invasion of his private sphere. An intruder sat in his comforting and familiar café, but what an intruder! When they had finished their coffee, Chad rose and bought them a bottle of low-alcoholic beer, each. "They don't sell anything stronger here. Regulations. I want to buy you something stronger some day. What do you say about a night out, together?" Lucien fell silent for a few seconds. "Don't take my 'yes' as I'm willing to date you, Chad. But yes, a night out couldn't harm. Any ideas?" "I'm not sure, if you have ever attended The Dungeon?" "That's not my usual fare, no. I'm more of a patron of The Rainbow Unicorn in the opposite end of the street. Opposite in two ways, actually." "I went there, once. Not my style. Lot of the stuff, which kept me doubting my sexuality for so long. The Dungeon is more my sort of place. I work there, actually." "Work there?" Lucien couldn't believe his ears. "As a bouncer. They have trouble with people sometimes. Sometimes new customers, who don't know the difference between The Rainbow Unicorn and The Dungeon. Those types I turn down politely, even with some advice how to dress at next attempt. About 50% return, dressed correctly this time. Then there are the anti-gay nutcases, who believe that it will be an easy match to break in, party-crash and beat up a few nellies. They expect nellies – then they encounter me at the entrance. The policemen don't mind if I give the nutcases a thrashing before I turn them over to the police." A familiar smirk at Chad's face. Lucien felt disturbed, but he felt excited, too. Chad with his TOP tanktop, defending twinks from gaybashers... "I haven't been there. How do I dress?" Chad rattled off some instructions, and, at the sound of it, he had done it before: "The club has a dress code. It is open for men who have sex with men, but also to their friends. Not necessary to put labels like 'gay' or 'bi' or such on the place: I don't know how many 'straight-bicurious' I have met there. It isn't a S&M place as such: Lots of members are not into S&M, but some are. Members may like to dress up in gear for several different reasons: For some it is a kink, for some it is a fetish, for some it is just fun, and not far from their everyday style – and they like the type of men who attend the place. Leather is the oldest style in the dress code. Lots of people are vaguely aware of the style... Do you know Tom of Finland?" "I've seen a few pics, but i am not familiar..." Chad's smirk returned. "You ought to be. Google it." Chad's grin became wider. White shining teeth. "That code was invented by queer bikers in the 1950s. Long before gay rights. Think Marlon Brando in The wild one. Old film. Lots of time since then, and the style has changed in many directions. There exist uniform shirts in leather now, for instance. Don't get me started about the jokes about Crisco. Well. Anyhow. Leather is the oldest code now, but there is army style... Anything army-inspired goes, well, not anything, but lots of choices there. Then, there's skinhead style, since at least the 1990s – some would say for longer. More recently guys following the chav or scally dresscode are allowed in... You get the picture, look as butch as possible, like you can take it like a real man, not like the patrons of the Rainbow Unicorn. Sorry. No offence. Well. You get the idea. Guys from the council flats mostly go for the chav or skinhead style, since that is cheaper. Full high-quality leather gear suppose a good salary. And then there's the rubber lads, of course." "Rubber lads?" Chad explained, and noticed with some glee how the older bearded gentleman in flannel at the corner table looked uncomfortable. "Money is not an issue, Chad. I will give you a phone call, when I have bought some appropriate gear." "I will buy you a membership, Lucien. It is the least I can do for you. Call me." * * * That had been two weeks ago. Lucien had unpacked the gear, and arrived to the club wearing it under a trenchcoat. A pre-payed membership awaited him at the entrance desk, which was manned by a mid-30s man with a jarhead cut, dressed in camo pants and an army jersey. The man at the counter forwarded a message: Chad was working until the middle of the night, but had promised to meet Lucien when the other bouncer began his shift. Absent-mindedly, Lucien heard a noice of a road accident from outside, but didn't peek out. A while later, he noticed a strange green light coming out from the windows of the gym across the road, but he didn't give it much of a thought. He couldn't decide his own state of mind. Not Chad! Eagerness, lust and resentment battled about his mind, his mind already slightly tipsy because of the vodka shots. Not Chad! But he couldn't deny that he was falling deeper and deeper in love with his old bully. Chad had changed. Chad was like himself. Chad was defending patrons of The Dungeon against gay-bashers. Lucien eagerly waited for Chad's shift to end, and they were going to explore The Dungeon together. Chapter Four is here:
  8. Wyatt: ‘Ahh damnit, I’m late for work again. Stupid damn lights, I don’t have time for this. Why does the speed limit have to be so low on this freaking road? UGH! Man, I hope there are no cops anywhere close to me. Hmmm, I think I am going to chance it.’ *sirens whizz past his car* Wyatt: ‘Ahh whew! I thought they were going to stop me, so far so good. *looks at dash for time* Oh fuck, my boss is going to kill me if I am late again. Where is my damn phone? *takes eyes off road for a few seconds and flies through light barely missing another car* OH SHIT! GAWD DAMN! I have got to stop doing that. Hmm, maybe if I can call him he will listen to me. *dials workplace number* Get me Corbin please I need to talk to him. *Bluetooth picks up call* Corbin: ‘Who is this? Wyatt if you are late one more time young man, you won’t have a job to come to anymore.’ Wyatt: ‘Sir I seriously had no idea I was late. I promise it won’t happen again, I know I shouldn’t be late, but I have been having problems lately with my health and I end up oversleeping a lot. Can you cut me a break?’ *Corbin sighs* Corbin: ‘My gawd son, you can’t expect me to believe that can you? I mean, I’m not that much older than you. Like I said before, one more chance and that’s it.’ *sirens getting closer* *Wyatt realizes there is a cruiser behind him* Wyatt: ‘I need to get off here now boss. I don’t want to get distracted any more than I already am. I will talk to you shortly.’ Corbin: ‘Fine man, just get here as soon as possible. I promised your father you would be a fine worker, you just need to get your priorities together.’ *Wyatt pulls over to the side of the road* Wyatt: ‘Goodbye Mr. Abrams.’ *Cruiser parks and a very large policeman steps out of his vehicle* *he is wearing a skin tight uniform which shows off all of his muscles* *he is wearing sunglasses and appears to have a black beard* *the first thing that Wyatt notices are his gigantic biceps looking quite vascular* Wyatt: ‘Oh shit, he is enormous. I can’t let myself look nervous or he will definitely give me a ticket or something.’ *officer walks to the back of Wyatt’s car and stops* Wyatt: ‘What is he doing? Damnit I can’t believe I am so careless.’ Officer: ‘Sir, can you please stop moving for me, I don’t want to draw my firearm.’ Wyatt: ‘Oh crap, yes officer I am holding still now.’ Officer: ‘Put your hands on the steering wheel for me then sir.’ Wyatt: ‘Yes sir.’ *hands on wheel* Officer: ‘Sir, you forgot to turn your car off.’ Wyatt: ‘You said to put my hands on the wheel and I did.’ Officer: ‘I realize that, but you should have turned your car off when you parked.’ Wyatt: ‘Okay.’ *takes right hand and turns ignition off*’I did it.’ Officer: ‘Thank you sir. Now I am coming up to your window.’ *officer walks slowly as Wyatt cranes his neck to look at his uniform* *officer stops at his window and sighs* Officer: ‘License and registration please.’ Wyatt: ‘Ummm….’ Officer: ‘You can take your hands off the wheel now.’ Wyatt: ‘Thank you.’ *rummages in glove compartment and finds registration* *quickly pulls out wallet and drops it in the floor* Officer: ‘Long morning man. You are way too nervous.’ Wyatt: ‘Yeah sorry, I got started late today.’ *tries to reach for wallet* Officer: ‘Take your time sir.’ Wyatt: *grabs wallet and hits head on wheel* ‘Ouch, fuck that hurts.’ *rubs head* Officer: *smirks a bit* ‘Just give me your license buddy and I will move this along for you.’ Wyatt: *hands him his license* Officer: ‘Stay put and I will be back in a minute.’ *Wyatt watches him turn and walk back to his cruiser* *His huge firm ass hugs his uniform perfectly and makes him moan loudly* *The officer stops and turns* *Wyatt mutters under his breath, ‘Ah damn’* *the officer comes back to the car* Officer: ‘Sir, is there something you need to say to me?’ Wyatt: ‘Uh no officer, I was talking to myself sorry.’ *Wyatt looks over and notices his nametag says King* *King takes his sunglasses off and shows his deep brown eyes to him* King: ‘Sir, step out of the car now.’ Wyatt: ‘Yes officer. I am…..’ *King stops him* King: ‘Be quiet. What is your name? *looks at license*.....Wyatt…..Williams…..that is an interesting name. Well Wyatt, come to the back of your car and spread your legs out to the side for me.’ *They walk to the back of his car and he does* King: ‘Lean forward for me Wyatt so I can search you.’ *King puts his gloved hands on his back and starts to search his pockets and even quickly touches Wyatt’s crotch* *Wyatt moans a little too loudly* King: ‘Wyatt did you just moan when I did that? Turn around.’ *Wyatt turns around and feels King pushing him against the car* *The huge officer moves his face in on his and gives him a mean look* *Wyatt starts to shake* *King smiles and backs off* King: ‘Wyatt I need to put you in the back of my cruiser while I check your information. Now you are going to be good right. Puts your arms behind your back so I can cuff you.’ Wyatt: ‘But I haven’t done anything wrong here officer. Why….’ *King interrupts* King: ‘I saw everything Wyatt. You nearly wrecked another car and you were speeding. Don’t give me some ridiculous story. I want to let you off on this, but you aren’t making it easy. Give me your arms sir.’ *Wyatt turns back around and places his arms behind his back* *King cuffs him and pushes him back to his cruiser* *He opens his side door and puts Wyatt inside* *He slides into his driver side door and closes it* *He starts to type in Wyatt’s information while Wyatt groans* Wyatt: ‘I don’t get this. Why am I in the back of this cruiser?’ King: ‘You need to shut up man. I need to focus here for a minute.’ *Wyatt’s mind wanders for a minute as he begins to stare at King’s huge back straining in his jacket* *Wyatt moans again and it makes King laugh in his manly voice* King: ‘You are clean Wyatt. I guess I will only write you a ticket.’ Wyatt: ‘Ahh come on, I am already late for work. I don’t need a ticket, please can I get a warning or something?’ King: ‘Wyatt, I have another idea. I think you will like it too.’ *sound of a zipper going down**he sheds his jacket to reveal his massive back* Wyatt: ‘Umm, OH…..’ *he moans again* *King gets back out of his cruiser and opens the side door* *he climbs inside where Wyatt tries to move away from him* King: ‘Come here, I know you want to touch me.’ *King grabs his legs and pulls him underneath his chest* *Wyatt feels his heat and it makes him sigh* Wyatt: ‘Ohhh…..uhhh…..I do want to touch you officer but…..’ King: ‘Use your mouth Wyatt, I want you to lick my massive pecs.’ *King leans down to smother him with his pecs* *Wyatt squeals as he plants his tongue on the huge mounds and tastes the sweat pouring off of them* *He instantly calms down and feels his cock springing to life* *King feels it against his body and reaches down to rub it slowly* King: ‘Good man. I think we can have a little fun Wyatt. You might not get a ticket after all.’ Wyatt: ‘Mmmm you taste so good officer. I really want you to take these cuffs off so I can feel you with my hands.’ King: ‘No sir, I think you are doing fine the way it is.’ *slight moan* *feels Wyatt moving over to his nipples and lightly licking them* ‘Ohh that feels great Wyatt, keep it up.’ *the cuffed admirer feels officer King’s bulge growing as it strains the fabric in his police suit* *low growl* ‘MMMM feels so good man.’ Wyatt: ‘Please release me, I think…..*has trouble focusing* I have learned…..*moves away from him again and stares into King’s eyes* my lesson officer uhhh…..’ King: *smiles at Wyatt and flexes his massive guns as they swell up into huge softballs* ‘You like these man. I am proud of these boys. *kisses them* ‘Come on and move back over to me Wyatt, you are doing great so far.’ *slowly pulls him back down to him* *Wyatt moans as King grabs a hold of his dress shirt and rips it open to expose his defined chest* *He reaches down to rub the young man’s chest and then licks his abs and pecs* *Wyatt writhes trying to make him stop but realizes he is powerless* *Officer King undoes his belt buckle and unzips his pants revealing his enormous rod which plops on top of the cuffed driver’s chest* Wyatt: ‘Why are you doing this to me officer? I just…..’*King puts his hand over the driver’s mouth and looks him straight in his eyes* *He becomes mesmerized again by the beautiful brown hues staring directly into his own green ones* King: ‘Calm down Wyatt and just give in to your needs. I promise you won’t have to worry about a ticket or even a warning today. ‘ Wyatt: ‘Uhhh I do want you to fuck me…..but I am afraid my boss will fire me if I don’t get there soon.’ King: ‘What is the phone number of this company? I will take care of this right now.’ *King pulls his cell out from his pants pocket* *Wyatt gives him the phone number and he dials it* *He sits up as his glistening torso and cock make the cuffed driver swoon as King uses his free hand to undo Wyatt’s pants and pulls his cock out to press up against his own* King: ‘Am I speaking to the supervisor?’ *someone on the line says no* ‘I would like to speak to your supervisor please.’ *King pulls a key out from his pants and places the end of it inside the lock to the handcuffs behind Wyatt’s back* *he turns it and Wyatt’s hands are released* *King grabs one of his arms with his free hand and puts on both of their cocks* *Wyatt starts petting and stroking while the sweaty officer waits for the supervisor* Corbin: ‘This is Corbin Abrams and who is this?’ King: ‘This is Officer Marquez King with the Halford Police Department and I would like to speak to you about one of your employees, Wyatt Williams.’ Corbin: ‘Yes he hasn’t arrived here yet…..’ *King interrupts* King: ‘The reason he hasn’t showed up yet is because the police need to talk to him. He has been in a wreck and we need to get his information. I want you to give him a pass today because it wasn’t his fault and he is pretty shaken up. Do we have a deal?’ Corbin: ‘Hmmm, well I hope he is alright, but he hasn’t been the best employee. I will give him a pass this time, but tell him that next time he won’t be so lucky.’ King: ‘I will tell him sir, you have a great day.’ *King hangs up and smiles at Wyatt* ‘Mmmm why don’t you keep stroking me man, it feels so good.’ *Wyatt increases his speed as he jacks both cocks* Wyatt: ‘I….I….have fantasized about this before officer.’ King: ‘Wyatt, call me Marc if you want to, I actually like you a lot.’ *Pulls his pants completely off as well as his boots* *King’s thickly muscled legs press up against Wyatt’s own legs still inside his pants* King: ’Make me want to fuck you little man. I want you to try and tackle me.’ *Wyatt jumps at him and tries to pin him down, but King’s strength is too much* *King eases up a bit so that Wyatt can tussle with him* *The big policeman stares into the driver’s eyes again and winks* *He pulls Wyatt’s pants off of him as the smaller fellow moans* Wyatt: ‘Ohh Marc I want you inside me really bad. Please why do you tease me?’ *King wraps his arms around Wyatt and pulls him in to kiss him on his lips* *Wyatt moans and puts his hands on King’s head as they embrace* *They quickly lock tongues and their breathing increases* *Wyatt hops on top of King and tries to push his huge cock inside him* King: ‘Mmm Wyatt, you don’t have to move so fast man. I am in no rush to leave, if you want to worship me, then you can.’ *King squeezes him and presses him against his chest as he wraps his huge arms around him**Wyatt moans as he begins to rub and kiss every muscle on King’s chest* *The officer growls and flexes them to make Wyatt purr* King: ‘Yes Wyatt, taste me, feel me, I will make you want me.’ *King squeezes his massive cock slowly up into Wyatt* *He feels his small admirer twitch just a tad as he begins to fuck him slowly**Wyatt leans back at looks up at King. His eyes look almost glazed over* *King reaches down to kiss him deeply and pulls him into him again* *He pumps faster getting closer to blowing his load inside him* *Wyatt squeals as he feels King starting to get close* Wyatt: ‘Ohh Marc, I want you to cum inside me muscle daddy. I fucking love it. I need to feel it rush through me.’ King: ‘Mmmm I like the way you think man. Here it comes.’ *King’s voice begins to get louder as he feels the cum starting to rush through his cock* *He thrusts numerous times as Wyatt yells in pleasure feeling huge ropes of cum flying inside him* *King laughs and holds him tightly* King: ‘You okay man. I think you kind of enjoyed that.’ *he smiles at him as he pulls out of Wyatt’s hole* ‘I think you need some relief yourself Wyatt, let me help you with that.’ *he pulls him up to his face and starts to suck Wyatt’s cock* *he moves rapidly making the smaller man start to buckle* *he smacks Wyatt’s ass as he sucks and even takes one of his hands to his hole* *Wyatt moans as he feels himself starting to cum* Wyatt: ‘I’m cumming man…..’ *King stops sucking and opens his mouth to catch the spunk* *Wyatt shoots numerous ropes of cum which coat the officer’s mouth and even land on his beard* *King gobbles his cock down and looks up at his accomplice and winks* *Wyatt squeals as King continues to suck him* King: ‘Give me more cum man, I am hungry. I don’t care how little it is, I just want to taste your spunk.’ *King slows down a little as he rolls his cock in his mouth* *He picks up the pace and slows down every couple of minutes* *Wyatt finally starts to moan louder as King growls* *The smaller man unloads another pile of seed this time down King’s throat* *The muscular officer sighs feeling it flow down into his stomach* *he rubs Wyatt’s chest and back and pulls his cock out of his mouth* *he pulls him down to where he is at and kisses him again* King: ‘Wyatt, I think we need to see each other again man. I thoroughly enjoyed this and you are quite sexy.’ *he lays the driver down on the seat and gets on top of him* Wyatt: ‘This is one of the greatest moments of my life Marc. You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen.’ *King smiles and presses up against Wyatt* King: ‘Do you want me to cum in you again man?’ *Wyatt nods yes and King enters him again* *King’s pace is rapid as he growls intensely holding Wyatt’s legs up* *After a few more minutes, King shoots another massive load inside his small accomplice* King: ‘I could do this all day Wyatt, but I need to get going. I actually need to get back to the station to clean up a bit. Now I want you to come by sometime and speak to me. Do you hear me?’ Wyatt: ‘Yes Marc I promise I will. I don’t guess I need to work today do I?’ *puts his clothes back on* King: ‘No I guess you don’t, now get the hell out of my cruiser.’ Wyatt: ‘Yes officer.’ *Climbs out the side door and begins to walk away* *King yells for him to come back after he puts his pants back on, his boots, and his jacket* King: ‘Where are you going so fast? Give me a hug before you go.’ *After stepping out of the back of the cruiser, he raises his arms out* *Wyatt embraces him and sighs* *King leans down to give him a nice long kiss* King: ‘Mmmmm, you are an amazing kisser Wyatt. You give me a warm feeling every time. I will be waiting for your visit.’ *King puts his glasses back on and gets into the driver’s side of his cruiser* *He drives off quickly* Wyatt: ‘Oh my god, what just happened. I think I have strong feelings for him.’ *Walks back to his car and gets inside only to sit there and stare off into the distance* *After a couple more minutes of pondering, he starts his car up again and turns around to go back to his apartment* Is this the end or just the beginning?
  9. ploder4

    brothers My Twin Is His Own Man

    PREVIOUS REFERENCE: --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  10. LoveGrowth

    Changing my Life - Part 9

    Sorry for the long delay, I had some trouble writhing this part. However I do have some ideas for the upcoming parts… but you’ll have to wait and see when they come out… Anyway I hope you’ll enjoy and as always thank you for the support and lovely messages. Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Changing my Life Part IX Standing before me was Mr Jones. I hadn’t seen him since the incident that happened at the party. I was practically frozen but knew that I couldn’t tell him what was going on. I changed my shocked face into a smile and greeted him. “How’s Max doing? Is he feeling a bit better?” “Max… erm yeah… he’s uh… he’s doing great!” I said mumbling. “Great to hear. I honestly felt a bit disappointed that you left. It was your party too, you know.” “I know sir, but I couldn’t keep Max from going home and taking care of him.” “I understand…” he said looking down and back up to see the boot of my car. Checking all the bags filled with oversized clothing, he looked back at me. “Those aren’t for you I may hope.” He said laughing. “No sir, they’re for Max.” I said. Mr Jones stopped laughing. Stunned he looked back at the boot. “Max?! He doesn’t need those, does he?” he asked. “He takes bodybuilding serious lately.” I said trying to find another excuse. “Oh, well then… I’ll see you around?” he said turning back to exit the car park. “Sure…” I said closing the boot. He wandered off, sometimes looking quizzed back at my car until he finally reached the exit of the car park. Relieved that the conversation ended, I started the engine and drove back home. Arriving home and stopping the car, I unloaded the boot and placed all the bags into the garage. As I closed the boot, I could smell the sweet sense of scrambled eggs. Feeling my tummy rumble I opened the door which led to the laundry. The door to the kitchen was opened and the smell of the delicious food overtook me. “Oh it smells lovely in here.” I said entering the kitchen. The kitchen was empty but the table was already set. Then I heard the stomping of heavy feet and noticed the glasses on the kitchen counter shaking. Water was vibrating as the stomping came closer. Two large feet entered the kitchen followed by 2 massive pecs and a body which made my body shiver and my cock spring to life. Ducking down Max’s massive body entered the room “I thought you’d like it.” He said looking down at me. I still wasn’t used to his hulking body and was in awe when I saw him in his full nakedness. I noticed that the only thing that came out of my open mouth was drool. My daydream quickly ended when Max started speaking again. “Did you find me some new clothes?” He asked walking towards the garage. “Y.. yeah, but err… I don’t know if it’ll fit.” I said following him to where I put the bags. Max started looking through the bags and grabbing some of the items. He turned around and pulled a tank top over his massive body. As he pulled it down, we both saw that it didn’t fully cover up his abs. It hardly reached his bellybutton. “It’ll do for now.” He said winking at me. He turned around and grabbed a pair of briefs and some trousers and laid them on top of my car. First he (tried) putting the briefs on. They stretched over his massive quads and tightened on his massive bulge and bum. There was no point in putting them on, they didn’t cover anything. Next were his trousers. They fitted perfectly. Even though he had a bit of a problem with closing the zipper, they were a nice fit. Seeing him smile made me swoon. He walked over to me and picked me up as if I was a feather. Kissing me passionately, he hugged me and held me for a few minutes. “Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have gotten a better boyfriend than you.” He whispered in my ear. Afterwards we walked back to the kitchen and dug into our food. I told max about how difficult it was to find clothes for him and about my encounter with Mr Jones. He laughed and didn’t seem to stop eating. He ate twice as much as I did. “Hey, did you receive an e-mail form the doc yet?” I asked almost forgetting. “Erm yeah, he said that the transformation is going according to plan and that I could take the second pill.” Max said between mouthfuls. “Well then, what are we waiting for?” I said standing up and walking towards the jar. “JAKE! STOP IT RIGHT THERE!” Max yelled, stopping me in my tracks. Frightened I looked back at him and saw him standing upright. “I.. I mean… I don’t want it yet…” he said sitting back down and looking at his empty plate. Questioned I walked back to the table and sat back down. “What do you mean? This is what you want, isn’t it?” I asked looking him into his eyes. “Yeah, but I’ll take it tonight, okay?” He said looking a bit down. “Hey, are you alright?” I asked placing my tiny hand on his oversized forearm. “I’m fine. It’s all just a bit much, you know. I still have to get used to this size.” He said looking for a bit of comfort. “I hear ya.” I said kissing him on the cheek. “Why don’t you have a look at the clothes and see if you like and fit in them all, whilst I wash the dishes.” Max looked up and embraced me. Smiling again, he walked back to the garage. I cleaned of the table and started washing up when I heard the first rips coming from the garage...
  11. LoveGrowth

    Changing my Life - Part 8

    As always, thank you for all the support and reputation . I would like to mention that I’m having some problems at work so I’ll only upload on Sundays. Thanks for understanding and have a great Sunday! Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Changing my Life Part VIII “Rise and shine” I heard Max’s deeper voice say when I awoke the next morning. I sat up straight and looked at him. Before me, stood a tall, wide and hot muscle god with a small tray in his hands. He was wearing a tiny little speedo which, to be honest, didn’t cover up anything from his mammoth prick and a red bow tie around his neck. “Here you go.” He said handing me a breakfast tray. The tray contained 2 slices of bread, some sandwich filling, a glass of orange juice, yoghurt and a red rose in a vase. “Oh that’s so sweet. To what do I owe this?” I asked smiling at the most heart-warming breakfast I’ve ever received. “Just because you kept believing in me and helping me get through with it.” He said blushing and scratching the back of his neck as he told me how grateful he was. “This bow tie is getting a little bit too tight.” He said struggling to get the bow off of him. He sat down on my side of the bed. With one quick rip, the bow was off. Admiring the view was the only thing I could do. Max had grown so much since he started the experiment. I was pleased at how well it had been working the last couple of days and was getting excited at how much he would grow, but I wasn’t the only one that was excited. Whilst admiring my gorgeous boyfriend I saw, in the corner of my eye, that his little boy was waking up too. I quickly looked back as I didn’t want to be staring at it like a pervert. Max noticed it too and placed his big hands on it to keep it from ripping his favourite speedo. “Sorry this happens a lot since I took that pill. I just can’t stop looking at myself and enjoying what I see.” “I get it.” I said knobbing in agreement. I knew he enjoyed it as much as I did. “Hey uh, could you do me a favour?” he said rubbing his hands together. “Sure. What can I do for ya?” I asked placing the tray next to me. “It’s just that I need some new clothes and I can’t go out looking like this.” “What do you mean. You can still wear my clothes.” Max didn’t answer. He just looked at me, smiling, and turned red. “I think I grew a little overnight.” He said laughing. Max stood up from the bed and told me he would get his new stats as he measured himself that morning when he made my breakfast. As he reached the bedroom door, I immediately saw that he grew. He had to duck his head to get through the door and went sideways too. “I’ve got them!” he said entering the bedroom again. “So… how tall do you think I am?” Max asked holding the papers with both hands and pressing them into his chest in hopes that I wouldn’t see the answer to his question. “Uh I don’t know, like, 2.00 meters?” “NOPE!” he shouted with excitement “I’m now at 2.05 meters. Isn’t it great! However I do still weigh somewhat the same.” I leaned back, my head lying on my pillow. he grew over night! This can't be right. “That’s lovely, but uh…” I stumbled over my words as I was searching for the right words to tell him how I felt without him getting angry or thinking that I wouldn’t support him anymore. “What is it?” he said approaching me. “Don’t you think you’ve grown enough. I mean, this all happened with just one pill.” Max looked at me, not knowing how to react. He sat down next to me and looked down. “I thought you’d be happy for me.” he added. “I am, I’m just worried that you’ll grow too big. I still have to keep up with ya.” I said punching him on his shoulder and smiling at him, trying not to make him feel guilty; “Maybe you’re right, but I like the feeling of being the bigger one.” He said looking back at me. “You know what, why don’t we make a deal. You can grow a bit more, but when I feel like you’ve grown enough, you stop.” I said sticking my small hand out, ready to shake Max’s big, meaty hand. “Deal!” he said smiling and looking excited. Then he stopped smiling for a moment and added “Err, there’s something else I need you to do for me…” “What is it?” I asked curious. “You know how I ripped out of most of my clothes?” he said looking at some of the shirts and trousers that were still covering the bedroom floor. “Yes” I said raising my eyebrow. “Well… could you… maybe… get me some new ones?” he asked. “Sure!” I said happily. “I’ll get some new ones right after my appointment of this afternoon. But you’ll have to give me your stats so that I know what to pick.” He jumped off of the bed and walked up to me, giving me a big kiss on my cheek. “You’re the best, I love you!” After our little talk, Max gave me a piece of paper and some measuring tape and we started writing down all his stats. Once we were finished, I took my documents with me for my appointment and told Max that he should contact the doc. to inform him about his progress as I forgot to do so. He told me he’d write an e-mail and would add some pics to also show him the results. I told him that’d be fine and I left. I went to our local shopping centre which was just a fifteen minute drive. Walking around, I saw a lot of shops with XXL sizes. However, they weren’t the cheapest clothes. I got a few hoodies, shirts, T-shirts, trousers, pants, socks, jackets and so on. I even got him some new shoes because I knew that the ones he got would be destroyed by the time he’d be done. Back at the car park, I was loading the boot when I heard someone sneak up behind me, grabbing my shoulder and saying “Great to see you again.” I panicked when I turned around.
  12. LoveGrowth

    Changing my Life - Part 4

    Hey everyone and thanks again for all the support on the previous part. This part is a little bit shorter than the previous parts but it is the last part without any growth. In the next part the fun will begin… Part I Part II Part III Changing my Life Part IV The doc stood up and walked over to what seemed like a wooden panel mounted on the wall. He turned his back to us so we couldn't see what he was doing. “DOM!” With a loud noise, panel opened up. Max and I were kind of scared about what was to come. “Well come on in!” the doc said inviting us into the dark chamber. We slowly raised ourselves off of our chairs and approached the room. The doc turned on all the lights for us to find that this dark chamber was in fact a humongous laboratory. It was filled with a kinds of machines and screens with buttons, cabinets with bottles in all different colours and so on. He invited max to sit down on a large chair with chains and wires plugged in to it. Max sat down and the doc got a syringe out to take his blood. He gave Max a small stress ball to squeeze in and as he did, the blood was being drawn. After that he gave Max some juice and put the blood into a vile and put it in a machine. He then started asking max some questions regarding his health and physical performance but Max was healthy and in a good shape so there was nothing to clarify. “That is just fantastic.” The doc said as he pushed some buttons. We heard the machine rumble. “So what happens now?” I asked. “The machine will start making the pills based on Max’s blood. That’s all.” He said. “Are you sure you want to continue this?” I asked Max putting my hand on his shoulder and looking at him terrified. “There is no need to worry.” The doc said. He walked over to the other side of the room where another door was located. He unlocked it and asked us to come and take a look. In this room I was shocked to find a mouse, but not just a regular one, but one 10 times the size of a regular one. “This is Jerry, he is the latest test subject that I gave my latest pills. And you, my boy, will be getting the same pills as Jerry.” The doc said. The mouse was big. It had muscles all over its body even in its tale. Its paws where bigger than my hands and its head was wider than my chest. “How many pills did you gave him?” Max asked excited. “4 in total but the progress isn’t done yet. He still has a long way to go.” The doc said pointing to a small jar. The jar was filled with 6 more pills and me and Max knew exactly what they were for. “Ding” We heard from behind us. “Ah they are ready!” the doc said walking back into his laboratory. He walked over to some sort of microwave and opened the door to find a small jar filled with pills. He took the jar, closed the lid and gave them to Max. “Why do I only get 5 pills?” Max asked somewhat disappointed. “Because I didn’t know if 10 would be too much so we’ll start with 5.” The doc said. “Now I must warn you. There are some strict rules you must follow otherwise it will not work.” He said in a more serious tone. “What rules?” Max and I asked. “You must only take one, once a week, don’t ever take more as the results may be unpleasant, take them in with some water and then there is the most important part. Usually people think that they still have to work out, but that’s where their wrong. You see these pills get ‘confused’ when your body creates more proteins and growth hormones by itself.” The doc said in a dramatic tone so that it would stick in our head. “Here you might find that this is useful too.” He said ones again handing me a paper with some more information, along with the information he had just given us and his contact info. “Thanks doc!” Max said shaking the man’s hand. “Oh and if there happen to be any problems, just call me or send me an e-mail and I’ll reply as quickly as possible.” He said walking us out of the lab and into his living room. Before walking us out, he quickly said “And I’d like to see the results when they show. Send me some photo’s along with your stats so I know if it works.” We knobbed and walked out. The entire ride home Max was constantly talking about how happy he was, what might change in his life, how people might react … all the while, I was thinking about the negative things that these pills might contain. He could be dead by the end of next week. But thinking about that one mouse being that big, cooled me down a bit as it still looked normal. Only bigger and more muscular. Arriving back home Max immediately ran to the kitchen, ready to take his first pill. He poured himself a glass of water and gulped the pill down into his body. He ran back to the entrance to look into the mirror. Waiting for something to happen, but there was nothing. We both looked at each other “How is this possible? Nothing’s happening.” Max said looking at himself in the mirror. “Don’t worry, I’m sure that it just takes some time before you can see some results.” I said trying to make sense out of this situation. “Yeah you’re probably right.” Max said frowning. “Now that that’s out of the way, I wanted to ask you something.” I asked. “Okay shoot.” Max said curious. “Mr. Jones is hosting a celebration next week for his new addition and he asked me to join. So now I was wondering, would you like to come with me?” I asked. “Sure, anything for you babe.” He said grabbing me by my waist and pulling me closer to give me a kiss.
  13. LoveGrowth

    Changing my Life - Part 3

    Before you guys dig in to the next part, I wanted to thank you for all the positive comments an reputations that you are giving me. It really motivates me and keeps me going. I wish you all a good weekend and I'll see you all next week. Part I Part II Changing my Life Part III “Wh.. What d.. do you mean I found someone?” I said in disbelief. “Well I ended up on the weird corner of the web and found a forum that was dedicated to people who would like to start their experiment and are seeking for guinea pigs. As I was scrolling down, I found someone who created pills which stimulate your growth hormones. He lives just 90 minutes from here and I already made my appointment for next weekend.” I watched in disbelieve and picked up the documents which were lying next to his laptop. “So what is this supposed to be?” I asked. “The guy who created the pills told me that they had some minor side effects and send me the list of the ones his animals got.” Reading the list, I noticed some weird ones but also some worrying ones. “Have you actually read this list?!” I said looking dazed at him. “Of course and you shouldn’t worry. He said that he’d check my body first before making the pills for me.” “Max I’m just reading the first ones and it’s disturbing; Anger issues, dried skin, loss of sight, kidney failing, death, … I mean do you really suspect me to believe that you will come back home alive?” Max noticed my voice changing from worried to anger. He put the pan with eggs back down and slowly approached me. “Hey don’t worry. I have a feeling that this is going to work.” He said kissing my cheek. “I’m not saying that it won’t work. I just don’t want to lose you because of a stupid pill.” “If it makes you feel better, why don’t you just join me on my trip to this guy’s laboratory?” he said smiling at me. “I’d love to but if anything goes wrong or if you don’t feel like continuing, please say so.” I said tapping him on his back as I was serious about all this. “I will. Now, what would you like?” “WHAT?” I asked. “Would you like sausages or bacon with your eggs?” After that morning, the rest of the weekend passed quickly and found myself sitting back at my office. I couldn’t get my head around the fact that my boyfriend, my short baby-faced heart-warming boyfriend, soon would possibly become a muscle head. Don’t get me wrong I loved the idea, but I was afraid of losing the Max I fell for. Ring, Ring I got out of my daydream as I heard the phone ring. “Wilson Realtors, how can I help you?” “Yes this is Thomas Jones speaking from the real estate business RealPoint Property.” “Ah good morning sir. What can I do for you?” “I heard the news about you being the new owner of the business and I was wondering if you’d like to celebrate. After all, our companies are both very close.” “Of course sir. I’d love to.” “Excellent I’ll be hosting our celebration on our new addition to the company. So I was wondering if you’d like to come join us for a drink.” “That sounds wonderful. When is this party supposed to take place?” “Friday, next week around 8:00 PM. Oh and of course, don’t forget to bring the lucky guy eh.” Mr. Jones started laughing as I knew what he meant by the lucky guy. He knew about Max and me and was totally okay with us being together. After all, he was an elderly Christian man so it was nice to hear a positive remark about us for a change. Plus Mr. Jones was a very well-known and wealthy man, so it was an honour to be invited to such an event. “Don’t worry sir, I’ll ask Max if he likes to join me. I’m pretty sure he likes to come.” “Excellent, I’ll see you next week then.” And he hang up. Next week. Maybe I won’t have Max by then. The week went by until the day arrived that Max would be going to the laboratory to find a cure that could possibly grow him. The night before, we talked about it and he became aware of what could possibly go wrong. But at the same time, I became aware of how much he liked to continue this process. That morning we packed our stuff and got into the car on our way to Mr. Petrov. That being the only name given to us. As we arrived at our destination, we saw no sign of life whatsoever. There was a forest at Max’s side and an open field at mine. “Did we miss something?” Max asked looking back at the papers which included the address. “Uhm… I don’t think so.” I said pointing at a mad scientist approaching our car. As the man knocked on my window, I looked at Max not knowing what to do as the man seemed pretty odd. Max didn’t hesitate and gave me a sign letting me know it would be safe to scroll down my window. “You must be Jake and Max, right?” the man asked scanning us both from head to toe. “Yeah!” Max replied excited. “This is Jake and I’m Max. Nice to meet ya.” Max stuck out his hand to give the man a handshake. “Nice to meet you Max I’m Mr. Petrov but you can just call me doc.” The man said shaking Max’s hand. “You can park your car here and follow me to my home. I’ll give you all the information and answer all your questions about the pills.” Mr. Petrov said. As we locked the car and followed the mysterious man back to his place, I took my chance to inspect his house. It wasn’t big but it definitely caught my attention. It was an old brick house with all kinds of different windows. Some big and square, others small and round. All in a variety of different colours. Then there was this big wooden box build beside the house. It was equipped with satellites, solar panels, cables and wires … “Sorry for the house. I don’t have much money and time to renovate it.” The doc said unlocking the door and inviting us in. He sat Max and me down and asked if we would like something to drink. “No thanks I’d like to learn a bit more about this pill.” I said cutting to the chase. “Ah yes my newest invention. Well it all started with an idea to develop muscles quicker. As you both may know it is pretty hard to achieve the body of your dreams if you don’t know how to train and diet properly.” Max and I looked at each other and knobbed as we both knew that what the old man said, was true. “So I found out that when you’re younger, your body starts to develop. This is called puberty. I started to do some calculations and testing on a variety of different animals and found out that if your body keeps thinking it’s still young and needs to develop, it will.” “But, if I may ask, what does this have to do with the pills?” I asked. “Well you see on its own, your body won’t change. So that is where the pills come in. You see they are all made with ingredients that give your body more proteins and growth hormones.” “So why haven’t you tested it on other people?” Max asked curious. “Usually when I give them the list of side effects, that my testing animals got, they freak out and end the program. But not you. You’re special.” He told Max. I noticed that he was getting excited about all of it as he got his big smile out. “So do you have any more questions?” the doc asked. “What will this procedure cost us?” I asked scared it might be too expensive. “It’s free as the pill is just in a developing phase and I need it to be properly tested first.” I was a bit more calm and started to think that it might not be so bad after all. "Any more questions that need answering?" Max raised himself off the chair and replied "When can we start?!"
  14. LoveGrowth

    Changing my Life - Part 2

    Writing is going well so I thought why not post part 2 a little sooner. I really enjoy developing this story and I hope you like it as much as I do. I'd love to hear what you think about it and if you have any suggestions, please let me know. Part I Changing my Life Part II SLAM! I awoke to the sound of the front door slamming shut. Looking at the clock of my phone, I saw that it was 8:12 PM. “Max can’t be back already. He always returns around 9:00 PM.” I thought as I heard someone stomping up the stairs. “Max is that you.” Suddenly everything went quiet. Taking a towel and drying myself off I kept thinking why Max was back already. “Something must’ve happened.” There was no point in waiting so I took my bathrobe and opened the door. That is when I heard him sobbing. I glanced into our bedroom where I heard the sobbing from. Looking through I saw Max sitting at the end of his side of the bed, with his hands in front of his face, keeping himself from crying out loud. “Hey baby, what happened? Are you okay?” of course he’s not okay why did I say that. Max started to slowly release his hands from his tearing eyes and laid his head on my shoulder. “I… I went …to the gym…” he started saying whilst still sobbing. “and there was… there was this big guy who… he approached me… and.. and..” As the last words came out he couldn’t hold back anymore and started crying. I tried to comfort him by giving him a tight hug. Slowly the tears ended and Max sat himself straight. “Did he hurt you?” I asked trying to figure out what has happened. It was really hard for me to see him in this state. He’s always happy and cheerful. To see him sobbing, it broke my heart. “No… yes… kinda…” he started. “He came at me while I was doing my exercises. He took my place on the machine and said that shrimps don’t belong in a gym.” “Is that what bothered you?” I said. “No after that I just continued on one of the other machines. I tried to forget about it and went on.” He replied. Tears started to form again so I knew that something else happened to him. So what is the problem then?” I asked trying to get him to say what really bothered him. “After my workout, I went to the locker room and went for a shower. When I was almost finished he entered, started laughing and calling me names.” Max said sobbing again. “What kind of names?” “Stupid fag, short wimp, turmigayter and so on.” Max said losing control again and started crying. I held him and tried to calm him down because I knew what his problem was. Max is always positive because he surrounds himself with people he connects with. But as I noticed during my time dating him, I quickly realized that he’s never been bullied before. So if someone makes a comment about him, it hurts him twice as much than me for example. That and the fact that he has always hated the way how short he was. “I want to change Jake.” Max said quietly. “W… What do you mean?” I said. “I want to change myself, I want to find something or someone who can help me become the person that I always wanted to be.” He said standing up and walking to his laptop. He opened Chrome and started to type random things one Google. I bowed down to get eye to eye with him as I saw how raged he was trying to find a solution for his problem. “Listen baby, I know you would like to change but the things you ask for aren’t things that can be changed immediately.” Max turned his head away from the browser and looked at me with a disappointed look. “You don’t have to change I like you just the way you are. I’ll never be unsatisfied with the way you look. Heck some people even look at you and think ‘I wish I looked like him’.” “You… You think so?” “Yes so please stop worrying what other people think of you. You are perfect in every way possible.” Max started tearing up again but this time because of what I said. “Come on. Stop searching for your ‘solution’ and start working on your next workout.” I said pulling him out of his chair and making him sit on the bed. “What workout?” he said confused. “Me” I said undoing my robe. Max didn’t hesitate and stood up kissing my pecs. “I love you.” He said between licks. I undid his jacket and t-shirt and started sucking his neck. “Ugh” Max moaned as his favourite spot was being touched. Slowly Max started kneeling down ready to take my growing cock into his mouth. As he stared worshipping my meat he undid his belt and pulled down his trousers and pants for me to realize that someone was also awoken from its sleep. After some exquisite sucking, Max stood up, turned around and bended over the bed. “I’m ready.” He said with a horny voice. I stepped forward slowly pushing my cock inside of his hole. “God you’re so tight.” I yelled with delight. Max started moaning louder and louder “Yeah! Faster!” he commanded. And so I pushed every last inch inside of him and started pounding his sweet thigh ass. “Max… I’m gonna… I’m gon…” without warning I sprayed my hot juice inside of his hole. Max followed as soon as my last drop entered his cave. “That was so good.” He said panting. I gave him a kiss on his forehead and we both fell asleep in each other’s arms. The next morning I awoke by the sweet smell of eggs and bacon being prepared downstairs. Walking downstairs I saw Max sitting down at the table with his laptop and some papers. “Morning baby. Slept well?” he said walking back to the pans and turning of the cooker. “Yeah… Err what’s with the papers?” I asked confused. “Oh I couldn’t sleep last night so I started Googling for someone who could help me accomplish my dreams and guess what… I found someone.” My body froze, I was shocked.
  15. LoveGrowth

    Changing my Life - Part 1

    This is a story I’ve been working on for a while now. I’d also like to point out that I have Dyslexia so there may be some faults in the story (so sorry in advance). It’s a story about a young gay couple (Jake and Max) just starting out in life. Jake and Max tend to go to the gym to stay in form but Max has always had the desire to grow bigger. Will he get what he wants? … Part II Changing my Life Part I The sun slowly started to set as I finally arrived home after a long day at work. I recently got the opportunity to take over a real estate business as the old boss of the company (the one that I was working for) decided that it was time for him to retire and enjoy his life. He asked me if I’d like to take over and I accepted. It was one of the best moments of my life, hearing that I’d soon have my own real estate agency. But after a few weeks I realized that it was a lot harder than I thought. Angry clients, incompetent staff and tons of documentation that I had to do got me down pretty quickly. Luckily I am very optimistic and have the best boyfriend ever who tells me that everything will be alright sooner rather than later. Before I unlocked the door, I was greeted with the smell of freshly cooked dinner. As I entered the house, Max came running down the hall with his arms spread open to give me a big ol’ hug. “Welcome home baby! How was your day?” He asked. “You know just a bit hectic with all the things that had to be done by tomorrow.” I said as I slowly loosened the hug and got my jacket off. “Oh well don’t be stressed out it’ll be fine. I know because you’re a perfectionist and like to get everything done before coming home.” He said trying to calm me down. “I guess so. What are you making, it smells delicious in here.” I said changing the subject. Max quickly changed his worried look into a happy smile as is said it. “I made your favorite dish. I’ve made spaghetti with my ‘famous’ meatballs you like so much!” He said happily as we walked to the kitchen. After dinner I helped Max clean the dishes as we talked about our day. Max, of course didn’t have much to say as he was unemployed and stayed at home cooking, cleaning and gaming. We argued in the past about me making money and he doing nothing but every time Max found a job, he’d always find something to get fired. And when we are looking for a job, he usually tends to stick to unrealistic jobs such as being an actor, gamer, professional bodybuilder, … “So are we going to the gym tonight?” Max asked after we were done. “Not today. I’m tired and need to do the laundry and get myself cleaned up.” “Hey you were the one that told me I couldn’t do the laundry.” He quickly replied. “That’s because every time you do it, the clothes change colour, get smaller or worse, the washing machine catches fire.” I replied. I didn’t bother though, it was kind of cute watching him experiment with the washing machine. But he never learned. So I decided that I would do the laundry and he would do the cleaning. “Would you mind me going. I found some interesting new exercises on YouTube that I’d like to try out.” He asked me with his puppy dog eyes. “Of course not, go ahead and grow some muscles.” I said knowing he liked to hear me saying that. Max got his bag and ran off. Before exiting, he turned around and said “You know, I have the best boyfriend of the world.” I smiled and started getting red. “No that would be me who has the best one.” I replied and Max closed the door, got in his car and drove off to the gym. Now that the house was empty, I turned the radio on for some good music during my time doing laundry. I really don’t like doing it but at least it’s the only thing I have to do as Max does the rest. After the washing machine was finally filled and turned on (hihi), it was time for a long, relaxing bath. As the bath was running, I changed out of my clothes and got a glimpse of myself in the full length mirror. I worked out almost all the time with Max and even if I didn’t do much at the gym, I noticed that I still managed to keep my 1.75 meter frame in a good and healthy shape. I didn’t have a lot of muscle that’s for sure but I was very athletic nevertheless. I turned around facing the mirror with my big bubble but and started thinking about Max and how he likes to fill it with his manliness. “I wish you were here to give me some pleasure.” I said to myself as I noticed that my little boy was starting to swell. Grabbing my shaft, moans started escaping my mouth. I closed my eyes and started jerking off thinking about my sweet lover who’d be pushing his body to the limits, trying to accomplish his dreams. Precum started dripping out as I started stroking faster and faster. Feeling I was close, my toes curled up and my head fell back as I shot my load all over myself. “Now it is definitely time for a bath.” I got my cum-soaked body in the tub as I slowly drifted away into a deep sleep.
  16. Read what precedes this chapter if need be: Muscle Buddies 1.0 & 1.1: https://muscle-growt...orkout-session/ Muscle Buddies 1.2: https://muscle-growt...eping-a-secret/ Muscle Buddies 1.3: Muscle Buddies 2.0 & 2.1: Chapter 2.2: Let's Assume That We Can Get Along Spending time with Omar over the summer before his senior year of high school has been incredibly satisfying for Jeff, especially after the recommendation from his assistant football coach Colton Goodwin. His relationship with Dustin has stayed fairly strong despite both of the teenagers urges to let off some steam with various friends of theirs. Jeff’s decision to focus solely on his rugby training is surprising considering that coach Goodwin expected him to work towards football rather than the other sport. This could have played into the decision of why Colton has started spending more time with Dustin and ending up falling for the amateur bodybuilder. Jeff’s unusual relationship with Omar has never really been a problem for Dustin since he has always known that they have fooled around with each other. What he doesn’t know however is that they are doing it far more frequently than before. The sessions they have are more about just showing off how strong each of them is with the other. Jeff’s ability to lift Omar above his head now in his senior year compared to where he started at the beginning of the summer is beyond compare. Omar has grown weak for this kind of horseplay and Jeff is fully aware of it. After nearly every practice for rugby, they train together and wait until the rest of their team leaves before they move on to more important matters. Jeff’s fellow teammate West, who has spent some very personal time with Dustin as well, has had his theories about Jeff and Omar’s relationship. He has known his fellow classmate long enough to know when he is being fairly secretive. His curiosity finally gets the better of him one night after all of the other guys leave. Acting as if he is going to go shower after a training session, he walks down the corridor to the locker rooms and stops before sneaking around a corner to watch the two thick seniors as they start to horse around with each other on the Smith machine. They both are wearing tank tops that hug their beefy chests as well as tight pants that are nice and snug on their bloated legs and asses. West himself wears similar clothing and wastes no time before he pulls his tank and pants off to stand directly in the path of the two brutes. His cock is already dribbling a pool of precum on the ground in front of him just beyond the gym floor. He never once touches it with his hands as it throbs and bounces its way up and down. Jeff and Omar laugh as they strip down to where they are wearing nothing before they pounce on each other. In the beginning of this scene, it is Omar that is the aggressive one but quickly changes to where it is Jeff who takes full advantage of him with his size and strength. Jeff’s power turns Omar on greatly as he moans in his deep voice. West has never seen this side of his good friend before, the rough and rowdy beastly man who wants to be the one in control. Both bulky teens are already soaked and glisten with sweat as their muscles strain and tense with each movement they make. West moans to himself as he runs his hands up and down his ripped muscular chest and tweaks his hard nips making his cock jump each time. He makes thrusting motions in the air like he is fucking someone. He won’t hold out long because he was already horned up from the intense workout he just finished a few minutes previously. He grunts and seconds later sprays several jets of cum all over the ground as it coats the light colored wood. His voice manages to carry its way far enough over to get the attention of both Jeff and Omar which embarrasses him immensely. Before he can turn the other way to escape to the lockers, he hears Jeff’s voice calling for him to come over and join them. He stops moving in his tracks to think about his decision before he walks toward them. Both of the beefy teens grin as they get up off the floor and grab him by the legs to pick him up to put him on their shoulders. Jeff never really thought about West much beforehand, but after seeing his teammate get turned on so much by what him and Omar are doing, he is willing to include the smaller stud in the fun. Both Jeff and Omar take turns using West as a barbell as they deadlift him over and over again. It starts off with some light teasing and quickly moves into full-blown worship as the smaller teen can’t help but to massage both of the stud’s thick chests with his mouth and tongue. It isn’t long before West moves down to find their meaty cocks and works them over slowly and methodically making the big boys grunt each time he deep throats them. Jeff and Omar take turns punching at each other’s stomachs while West gets lost in massaging their immense rods. The taste of their precum sets him on fire as he feels another load building up in his own balls. West stops sucking them occasionally to look up at them to see what they are doing to each other. Jeff will flex his massive guns every time he notices West looking and smiles down at him before telling him to go back to servicing his cock. After several minutes of gulping on both poles, the smaller teen can feel them getting closer to bursting. He stops sucking finally to stroke them both in unison. Their hips thrust in sync with each other as West moans loudly feeling his body thrusting along with them. In a remarkable turn of events, both Jeff and Omar explode at the same time and hit West in the face as giant rivers of cum go splashing down his chest and onto his cock. The instant the white flood hits West’s rod, he shoots another big load all over the gym floor. Once he finishes, he gets up and hugs both men tightly. Jeff and Omar continue to smack each other around this time moving up to their pecs and grunting a few times. West asks them to kiss each other, but they decline. Instead, Jeff picks him up and wraps his thick arms around the fit teen’s waist and pulls him in to kiss his lips. West moans deeply as he puts his hands on Jeff’s head and leans into him. Omar smiles and asks if they need to be alone which prompts Jeff to immediately stop kissing the thinner teen. He asks the strongman if he would want a kiss from his friend since he is pretty good at it. Omar resists at first but then grabs the teen to turn him around. West peers into the big man’s brown eyes and swoons a little. They smile at each other before West leans in to lock lips with the burly powerlifter. To Omar’s surprise, he actually likes the way the fit teen kisses him and holds him tightly against his barrel chest. After a few minutes of light kissing, Omar puts West back down on the floor. Both Jeff and the big strongman rub their admirer’s head to show their affection for him before they grab their stuff to go to the locker room. West sits down in the same spot for a minute or two to take in what just happened. He finally gets up and follows behind them to go wash up from the amazing encounter he just had.
  17. The other parts of Chapter 1 are here: 1.0 and 1.1: 1.2: Jeff and Dustin’s junior year is now winding down after the two teenagers both have decided to accelerate their training programs. To prepare for the upcoming football season, Jeff is already starting to up his reps on all of his workouts to get stronger. Dustin is in the midst of a bulking phase that he was talked into trying by more than one person. One of the people in particular that talked Dustin into getting a bit ‘thicker’ is Jeff’s assistant football coach Colton. After that amazing night last winter with both teens, the muscular coach has been spending more time with both of them on an individual basis. He ended up introducing Jeff to one of his former training partner’s and has gotten him started on a program with the powerlifter to get prepared for the upcoming season. With all of these additional workouts, Jeff is away from Dustin more often than not leaving the door open for Colton to spend quite a bit of time with Dustin to help get him through his bulking phase. Colton has gotten more interested in Dustin lately not only because of his dedication to bodybuilding, but also due to some of the conversations they have been having. The coach doesn’t see the two young men the same way he used to after that one night in the locker room. After getting to know them more personally, he has developed separate feelings for both, but is gravitating towards Dustin far more than he has ever for Jeff. Spending time with both young men is becoming quite risky and requires a lot of planning so nobody suspects that there is more going on than what meets the eye. The hunky coach has taken it upon himself to personally train Dustin after school hours and to help him develop his diet for at least the interim until he learns how to do things on his own. Convincing him to get bigger through intense training is something Dustin is not used to, but since he is developing a strong bond with the buff coach, he is willing to give it a try. When the well-muscled teenager first started training with him weeks before the school year ended, he was apprehensive since the coach had an area set up just outside his office located inside the school’s weight room. At first, it seemed really strange to Dustin that he would go to such lengths to do this, but the coach always had explanations that he would give to everyone that ever asked him about it. He even has several members of the football team using the equipment in this area to show that he has a purpose for it. Colton’s main position during school hours is as the physical education teacher for the freshman and sophomores that go there. He doesn’t allow them to use the equipment though unless they are part of the football program. As for the intense training and changes in Dustin’s diet, they are yielding immediate results that surprise both the coach and Dustin. His strength has nearly doubled in just a few short weeks and his body has swelled from a reasonable 165 to close to 200 pounds. The growth of course makes Colton a bit horny at times as he makes it an objective to have the growing teen come into his office to give him personal massages after every other workout. He always tells him that they are needed to keep his muscles loosened up and ready for the next workout. This always makes the young stud laugh since he knows that he is turning the coach on. It isn’t unusual for the muscular coach to strip down to his boxers while he gives Dustin these long massages. Some of these sessions can get quite heated especially if Dustin’s muscles are incredibly pumped up from an intense workout. Colton always makes a move on him during those days which gets the young stud to let his inhibitions roam free. It can sometimes involve a lot of muscle worship on both men and doesn’t always include just their hands either. At this point in their relationship, both of them are willing to go quite far to pleasure each other. The first couple of times this happened, there was some sucking and rimming which generally concluded with a thick creamy finish down Dustin’s throat. From that one night they spent together with Jeff, the young muscleman has thoroughly enjoyed taking the coach’s loads and vice versa for Colton as well. As the weeks have progressed through the summer, Colton’s attraction to his growing student have led to more advanced sex sessions which include Dustin penetrating him with his thick cock and pounding him to the point that he starts grunting like a rhino. The favor is not returned though as the young bloated bodybuilder doesn’t want Jeff to suspect that he is fucking his coach. In other words, he doesn’t want Jeff to see that he has been fucked in the ass. At this point in Dustin’s training, he is now an incredibly bloated 220, an astounding 60 pounds heavier from when he started just eight weeks before. Colton no longer sees Dustin as just a smart muscular teenager he can fool around with. Instead he sees a man with the body of someone that is quite mature for their age. He knows that he must break away from Dustin now or risk being found out by not just Jeff, but also by other people because he is having a harder time keeping it secret anymore. Their last sessions together in the later part of the summer involves a lot of hugs, squeezes, and even some intense kissing. Colton has in fact fallen in love with Dustin and knows that this needs to stop before it goes any farther. The day before summer drills for football began was when the hunky coach told Dustin that he didn’t need to train him any longer since he pretty much knew how to do everything himself. The young stud knew the real reason why he was cutting him loose though and told him that he understood completely. The upcoming senior year is just weeks away and everyone’s priorities are starting to take shape. Remarkably, Jeff never once has suspected that Dustin was seeing his football coach for anything other than training purposes. The same cannot be said for Dustin, who has suspected that the powerlifter trainer that Jeff was referred to by Colton was fooling around with him as well. With such busy schedules however, the last thing that Dustin wanted to do was to jeopardize not only Jeff’s progress for his future in sports but also their relationship with each other. This part of the story can now lead into the next chapter. Here is the next chapter: 2.0 and 2.1:
  18. Check out Parts 1 & 1.1 first to keep track: After making the playoffs at the end of the football season, Jeff wants to come out to the rest of the guys on the team, but Dustin keeps telling him that it isn’t going to help him if he does. After celebrating their last home game with the team, Jeff spends a little bit of time in the locker room having a ‘conversation’ with Dustin. The two studly teens laugh as they horse around near the lockers rolling on the floor and playfully punching each other. Without realizing it, they can hear a deep voice rumbling above them like they are trying to clear their throat. The two young men stop moving and look up at them. The man has a look on his face that makes them wonder if he is mad or not as they stand there with their arms in a dominant stance. The rest of the team has already showered and is leaving the dressing area to go home to prepare for the next game at this point. Dustin jumps to his feet and starts to move away from Jeff but not before the man grabs him by the arm. The man turns to look at him and points to the nearby bench. Dustin goes to sit down immediately afterwards. It turns out that the man is the coach that saw the two teenagers having sex before the football season began. He is also the assistant coach of the football team. The man is incredibly muscled, much larger than he was back when he caught them together. He turns back around and reaches down to pull Jeff up to his feet. The stunned teen is shirtless since he hasn’t yet showered from the game. The coach walks up to him and looks him straight in the eyes before pressing his immense body up against Jeff’s. He knows that the teen has tried to avoid him for weeks because of what happened that night. He grabs Jeff’s hands and puts them on his huge ass which is hugging his tight jeans. Dustin watches intently and even lets out a few moans. The coach grunts a few times before wrapping his arms around Jeff and picking him up. He starts using the muscled teen like a dumbbell curling him and lifting him up and down above his head and directly in front of his face. The man’s groomed beard brushes up against Jeff’s crotch each time to make him react. The coach eventually stops lifting him to watch the young man’s crotch pulse inside his football pants. He leans in to smell Jeff’s musk before running his tongue along the crotch. Dustin knows he should do something, but he finds the whole situation too hot. Jeff isn’t exactly trying to stop the man either since he has had his eye on the coach for as long as the season has gone on. Feeling his own cock stirring in his pants, Dustin gets up to go over and join the other two. He puts his hands around the front of the coach’s chest and pulls on the polo shirt he is wearing, ripping it open down the front which immediately makes the man drop Jeff onto the ground. He turns and yells at Dustin making his huge hairy chest flex as his pecs and abs swell. The force behind the pump makes the sleeves on his shirt shred as his bicep peaks appear through the fabric. Dustin doesn’t get far before he is tackled on the ground by the man. The man tells him to punch him in the chest which Dustin does without a second thought. He laughs and tells him to do it again as it pleases him greatly. He rips the rest of his shirt off and grins as he flexes his upper body again. He forces Dustin to rub his muscles and orders him to say how much he wants his body. Jeff is now scooting behind the coach and rubbing his crotch up against the older man’s ass. The man turns and orders him to take his pants off so he can see how much of a man he is becoming. Without much coaxing, Jeff pulls his pants and jock off to show his engorged cock which has been leaking precum for quite some time. The coach moans as he leans down to swallow the thick pole down his throat. Jeff yells in delight feeling his cock tickling the man’s throat. Dustin reaches underneath and up to unzip the man’s pants to pull them down. The coach’s huge bubble butt stares him in the face as the man’s nine-inch pole dangles towards Dustin’s legs. He pulls the coach down on to his face and shoves his tongue inside the man’s hole making the hugely muscled daddy moan as he continues to work Jeff’s cock over. Knowing that the muscled teen can’t hold out too long, he starts jerking Jeff rapidly as he pulls his cock out and looks up at the teen’s face smiling the whole time. He commands Dustin to keep rimming him as he playfully punches Jeff’s powerful chest with his free hand. Feeling the teen’s balls swelling to twice their size, he runs his tongue along Jeff’s slit hoping to summon the giant load from inside. Jeff can sense the flood moving into his cock and shoves his rod down the coach’s throat which surprises the huge man. He grips the huge teen as Jeff unloads down his throat making the coach moan deeply feeling it fill his insides. Dustin runs his hands along the man’s balls and cock feeling it tense like it is about to explode itself. He stops rimming the coach and slides his body down in time to feel a giant river of cum hitting his face and head. The coach flexes his massive legs and lowers his huge rod down onto Dustin’s mouth trying to get him to open it. He pulls Jeff’s cock out to tell him to do it or he will force him to take it up his ass. After resisting a few seconds, he gulps the hairy muscleman’s cock down and swallows what is left flowing from it. The coach grunts in satisfaction after finally doing what he has fantasized about all this time. He pulls his cock out of Dustin’s mouth and gets up. He pulls up the jeans he was wearing and grabs his shredded shirt before going into the shower area. The two muscled teens stare at each other and wonder what the hell just happened. They both smile before getting up from the locker room floor. Jeff walks over and sits beside Dustin. He leans in to lick the coach’s cum off the teen’s face and moans tasting the spunk before kissing his lover’s lips and holding him in his arms. They both think that their secret is safe with the coach, but they may have to do this again to make sure he keeps it hidden. If you enjoyed this, then read the next two chapters as well:
  19. The Edge - Part 7 - Super Swoldier “It wasn't till i was about 9 when I saw my first muscle magazine - at that moment I was blown away at the muscle I saw on these people. I wondered to myself, "I wanna look like that someday" so not soon after I read my first magazine I started to lift weights.” – Jeff Long It was six weeks before the show. I’m not quite sure what Colin was doing, the bodybuilding stuff still didn’t make sense to me. I still wasn’t used to Colin’s “intrusions” into my life - it was to the point now that passing by a mirror and flexing was enough for him to surface. He of course showed up at meal times, gym times, and various other times that I’m assuming had to do with contest prep, usually accompanied by Eric. “I don’t want to do this,” Eddie and I were sharing a rare moment when we both were “us” for the moment. We were huge now, and really vascular thanks to the show prep. We’d given up on shirts, they just wouldn’t fit right. Either they fit the shoulder/chest area and looked like a tent on our tiny waists, or they fit the waist, and our shoulder and arms would burst the seams. When we went out, it was pretty much tank tops as a rule. “Neither do I,” we both agreed wholly on that point, “but I don’t think ‘we’ have much choice. It’s not like we’ll be up there anyway. Eric and Colin will be up there. Probably enjoying themselves." “So what happens if we win?” “You mean ‘when’ we win, right? I mean look at us, there’s not many guys out there that look like us.” “I’m serious, dude. I mean if we win and get sponsorships, do Eric and Colin come out to play permanently? It’s not like you or I know how to pose or pull off the bodybuilding thing.” I looked down at my enormous arm, the large veins snaking their way across the engorged muscle. I had to admit, the prospect of being permanently turned into a mindless bulging sex-crazed bodybuilder didn’t really appeal to me. “I don’t know. I mean there’s worse things than having a body like this,” I gestured down to the enormous tank I’d become. We’d figured out that somehow sex was part of what made us “dumb bodybuilders”. Every time either of us looked at porn or got aroused at all, Eric and Colin would start coming out. Eventually, the normal sex stuff just morphed into bodybuilding. For some reason the two were linked for them. The real problem was that the road was becoming a two-way one. Anything, and I mean anything to do with any aspect of bodybuilding would turn into some sort of male dominance thing which would somehow end up in our cocks when “they” came out. We couldn’t quite tell which caused what. The lines were blurring, and “we” were getting lost in the shuffle. I traced the vein down my 24 inch left bicep with my right index finger, bouncing the muscle as I went. My cock stirred a little. Fuckin’ 24! I’d made it, and it’s gonna look so good for the show - oh no. It was too late. I could feel the change. As the threshold was crossed, my mind slowed down, changing gears. “You gotta problem with bodybuilders?” I heard the tone of my voice changing. The emptiness was sliding through my mind. The next six weeks, I was gonna fuckin’ attack the weights, and then dominate every pussy boy on that fuckin’ stage! “You know what this feels like, we’re basically fuckin’ gods bro.” “No, no, no, no!!” Eddie was doing his best to resist. But the bulge in his shorts was telling a different story. “I refuse to turn into that mindless freak!” I flexed a bi in his face. “C’mon bro! Let’s see yours, unless ya know I gotcha beat!" I felt a sneer as my lips curled up into a mocking smile. I tried to think of any science fact I could. It was a losing battle, nutrition information was coming up, “I’m fucking winning that show, bitch!” I saw my bicep flexed. The hanging tri. I needed to bring that up a bit before the show, he might get a few points on me there. I felt my pecs hanging on my chest. Fuck I loved that feeling. Just moving my arms a little made them jump as my bi’s brushed against my lats. Fuck! I love bodybuilding! This was a good size for the show, but I knew I had to get bigger for a national stage. Eric and I could fuckin' do it though. “No, I’m Eddie. I’m an engineering student,” his enormous hands went up to cover his face, biceps bunching and bulging as they went. He actually might be bigger than me, that fucker. “I’m an honor roll student,” his voice started changing tones. “I’m on the Dean’s List, I’ve won multiple scholast- scholar- school awards, I’m an In-gen-eer. I’m a student of...”, he trailed off, the jaw went slack. Over his hands, his brow scrunched up like he was trying to remember something, “I’m a student of the fuckin’ iron! I’m a muscle GOD!” He roared as Eric’s hands dropped from his face. I looked around, trying to remember what the fuck I had just been doin’. Fuck I hate it when I lose my liftin' skills. It's like I don't know nothin’ about liftin’ or anything important like that. It's like I completely blackout to bodybuilding. I become a real dumbass. “Fuck, bro, what were we talkin’ about?” Eric looked like he’d just woken up from a deep sleep. “Fuck if I know, bro? If it wasn’t about growin’ liftin’ or fuckin’ it wasn’t important.” He stretched himself out to his full height. He looked over his pecs down to his shorts, “Must’ve been bitchin', though, I’m boned to hell. Let’s go Lift!” ******* It was weird. I mean, it wasn’t like I wasn’t still me, even when I was Colin. I just was a lot dumber and fixated on being a bodybuilder and all things muscle. The problem was controlling it. The closer the show got, the more Eddie and I were Eric and Colin. Eric an Colin knew these bodies, Eddie and I didn’t. We still didn’t move quite right in them. It’s not hard to imagine, going from chicken legs to having to waddle to get your legs to move around each other so you could actually take more than a baby step. We looked weird and were really self-conscious unless Eric and Colin were around. After Eric and Colin had finished doing...whatever it was they do, and we were back to “us”, Eddie and I decided to go to the mall to try to find some new clothes more our style, less….showy than Eric and Colin liked. Something we could wear. We figured it would be best to try to preserve “us” for as long as we could. The changes were increasing. Literally, anytime either of us would think of muscle, bodybuilding, or anything remotely to do with flexing or something like that, we’d change. With both of us only wearing spandex (it’s the only thing that wouldn’t chafe) and tank tops, not thinking of muscle was becoming increasingly hard. We were at the food court after picking up some shirts and pants that would have to be altered to get over our hulking frame. Eddie had gone to the bathroom before we left, and I was sitting in my tank top at one of the tables trying desperately not to think of how strange this huge hulking body looked hunched over an invisible plate trying to not be noticed. A kid of about 10 passed by and you could tell by the look on his face, he’d never seen someone my size before. I still couldn't get used to the stares. I didn’t like them, but as Colin, I learned that I - he, loved the attention. The kid kept staring. I was really hoping he’d move on, but I could feel a hole being bored in my massive arm from his stare. I looked up and managed a friendly smile at the kid and went on about my inner sulking. The kid came over to me with his mouth agape. He looked up at me, and down into a figurine he had in his hand. I recognized it as one of the new super heroes that companies were always dreaming up to entice the next generation of kids to spend their parent’s money. I had to admit, though, the character was totally jacked. I giggled a dumb chuckle to myself - I was bigger though. I involuntarily flexed a bi and made the huge vein running across it jump. “Whoa!” the kid was taken aback, “you’re even bigger than Captain Ultra!” No, I can’t engage this kid. Don’t think about your pecs - heh, bigger than the Cap’s there. Don’t think about the quads on the toy - mine are so much bigger than that, it’ll look bitchin’ on stage. That figure isn’t even vascular. Fuck, if I wore something skin tight you’d see every vein in my shoulders arms and legs standing out. Don’t think about muscle. Don’t. Think about muscle. “You know it little bro!” I heard myself say and flexed my arm for the kid to see. “Cool!” a smile ran across his face, his eyes were as wide as dinner plates. I always love kids reactions to the muscle. They’re never quite sure how to act. “This took a lot of time to build up.”, I gave him a crab shot - my favorite pose - “You know when you’re older, you can start lifting weights too. If you do it long enough, I bet you could be even bigger than me!” A man had walked over by this time. An average guy, obviously didn't lift. Judging by the blond hair and green eyes, which looked just like the kid's, I guessed it was his dad. “C’mon Caleb, leave the man alone,” he grabbed his son by the hand and started walking away. I heard him mutter under his breath “I don’t know why anyone would want to do something that gross to themselves.” Huh? Gross? Fuck that, this isn’t gross, it’s manly you little bitch. I looked down and flexed my pecs. They were literally hanging out of the sides of my tank. A cocky smile went over my face. He just didn’t know what “this” felt like. I bet if he did, he’d have a different view. I sneezed. And I realized something... “You know, bro,” I called after him, “it’s a lotta work to look like this. It’s an art form - you should appreciate it. Your kid does.” He looked back I sneezed, covering my mouth with my right hand. I stood up. “I’m Colin. Nice to meet you,” I said, offering a handshake to the guy.
  20. Herald

    theft The muscle frat (2)

    Two The next morning Brad awoke with a strange feeling: the mixture of too many beers and the pride of being a DEXAMENI-frat member buzzed around in his head. He groaned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room. He was laying in a bed against the left wall, the bed against the opposite wall was empty but the sheets were tossed on it. He tried figuring out how he'd gotten there. All he remembered was the initiation, the first two beers and then everything was blurry. "A shower would do some good", he said to himself as he sat up in his bed and tossed his sheets aside. He noticed he'd worn his boxers to bed. He tried stepping out of the bed but his spinning head made him pause for a second. The door opened and he looked up. "Ah, ya're awake, roomie", Brock said as he entered the room. "Roomie?", Brad asked while his buddy, wearing nothing but a towel rapped his waist, closed the door and turned around. "Yeah, Keith agreed you moved in with me since we're friends. Normally the new guys have to stay together in the other part of the building but I convinced him to let ya stay with me", Brock replied. "Thanks, buddy." "Don't mention it", Brock stated with a grin, " Ya really let yourself go at the party. I carried ya upstairs to our room. Ya were too wasted to make it up the stairs. Ya passed out in my arms. Ya didn't even hear me get up an hour ago for my morning workout." "A shower would be a got idea", Brad said and stepped out of his bed. He walked over to the center of the room but his 45 pound heavier friend didn't move and blocked his way to the door. "There are some rules around the house ya don't know yet, rookie", Brock said. "What do you mean, B.?", Brad asked and looked into his friend's eyes. "Well, I'm the senior member here. Second in line after Keith. So ya have to do what I say", Brock said as he placed his hands on his hips to flare his lats and emphasize the width of his 229 pound body. Brad nodded as he took in the size of his best friend's pumped arms. A hint of jealousy going through him since he'd always envied Brock's good muscle building genes. "I could use a blowjob right now", Brock said. "No way", Brad blurted out. He gulped as he saw the look on the bigger man's face. Brock folded his pumped arms in front of his chest, making the mounds of muscle that were his biceps swell into the rack of pecs. Brad reluctantly fell down to his knees and looked up at the veins snaking along the cords of muscle in his buddy's forearms. He reached for the towel when the 45 pound bigger man began laughing. "Got ya", Brock said as he exploded in laughter, "Man, ya should have seen your face. Priceless!". He grabbed his buddy's armpits and hoisted him up to his feet. "You mean I don't have…", Brad began. "Na. I could make ya, but you're my friend", Brock stated, "Serious though, if ya want a good blowjob let me know. One of the new members from last year is great at giving head. Might gonna see him right now". Brad noticed the stirring motion beneath his best friend's towel. "Shower's in the hallway", Brock said as he disappeared from their room. The semester went by like a breeze: Brad had the time of his life in the DEXAMENI-frat. He enjoyed the friendship of his roommate who kept watching his back. Every time one of the older frat members wanted to put him up with some humiliating chore, Brock would show up and say that he was his personal rookie and made him carry his shoes or gym bag while the others laughed at him. They kept working out daily, pushing each other to their limits. Brad had managed to gain three more pounds, now brushing 185 pounds of ripped muscle. Brock on the other side put on another 12 pounds, making him a whopping 241 pounds of bulky mass, his arms now measuring nearly 23 inches cold. Some of his newly gained mass was fat though, a role of lard began obscuring the bottom row of his muscle gut, but being the biggest guy on the football team was more important to Brock than a ripped six-pack. A week before the Christmas holiday, Brad walked into their room. His eyes went wide as he stepped in. Brock was lying naked on his bed while some small wrestler was nestled between his thick quads and sucking him off. "Jeez, I'm sorry", Brad muttered as he backed away. "Get in and close the door, rookie!", Brock ordered as he looked up to his roommate. Brad closed the door and stood in the center of the room, staring at the incredible scene in front of him. He actually felt his own dick hardening in his pants as he looked at the small, yet muscular wrestler sucking his buddy's 10 inch pole with gusto. "YEAUGHN", Brock groaned deeply, his meaty chest flexing as he blasted his load down the wrestler's eager throat. "Good one, Jay", he said as he gently ruffled the wrestler's hair. Brad watched as the wrestler got up and noticed the large wet stain on the guy's tented boxers. "You've such a hot body", the wrestler said as he rubbed his hands along the masses of meat atop Brock's chest. Brock bounced his meaty pecs under the guy's grasp and looked at his roommate. "Ya want a blowjob too, Brad?", he asked. "Na, I'm good", Brad replied. "Your loss. Jay's got the best mound on campus", Brock said and clenched his fist to make his right bicep harden under the wrestler's touch. "Wow", Jay said as his hands were pried open by the orb of steely meat. "Ya can train with me after the holidays like I promised, Jay", Brock said, "Now leave me and my roomie to it. Happy holidays". He threw a double bicep and sent the wrestler off. Just as Jay passed by Brad he said to him: "The offer stands. If you want a blowjob, let me know. Brock said you have a great body too". Brock exploded in laughter as he saw the dazzled expression on his friend's face as the wrestler left their room. "Told ya he's real good. He came up to me the first week he'd gotten in the frat and offered me a blowjob right there in the showers! He's even more into my body as I am. Ya should really give it a try, buddy. So, what's up?". "Problems at home", Brad said as he sat down on his bed, "You mind putting on some clothes?". "A shame to hide any part of this body", Brock replied and slowly rubbed his hand along his bulky frame and gave his deflating 10 incher a good squeeze. He did pull on his boxers. "My little brother dropped out of high school and is in constant fights with my parents. Some holiday I'm up for", Brad said. "Why don't ya ask him to stay here on campus. He could sleep here in the frat house, most of the guys are going home. I'm staying since I'm an orphan so ya don't have to be here alone with him", Brock replied as he walked over to his roommate's bed and sat down next to him. "Sounds pretty good to me. But I'll never convince my parents", Brad stated and looked into his buddy's eyes. "I'll give 'em a call. Say ya have some stuff to do on campus", Brock said and patted his friend's back. "Tell them my brother's in for some pre-student program", Brad said and thanked his best friend. Brock indeed managed to convince Brad's parents and a week later his brother arrived on the nearly deserted campus. A faint knock on the wooden doors of the frat house echoed through the hallway. Brock opened the door and looked down on the skinny boy standing there. "Little T.", he said with a grin as he recognized Brad's little brother Tristan. Tristan instinctively stepped back as he looked at his older brother's massive friend. Despite having turned 18 a few weeks earlier, Tristan looked like puberty had completely forgotten him. Standing 5'5 and weighing a measly 124 pounds, he looked like an emaciated kid. Even the thick hoodie and the baggy jeans he was wearing couldn't hide his skinny frame. Brock looked into the small boy's dark brown eyes and felt a bit uneasy, despite outweighing him by more than 100 pounds. Tristan just stared back into the huge man's eyes. He noticed the unease and a smug grin formed on his lips. He'd always used his intellect to mess with his jock brother and Brock, enjoying their stupid reactions. "So", he asked, "Can I come in or do I have to stay out here?". "Oh, sure thing, little T. Come on in. I'll show yar room", Brock said moved aside to let the small boys enter. "You're getting fat, Brock", Tristan said as he squeezed his frail body between the wall and the huge man's muscle gut, "Jeez, you're taking up half the corridor with your bulk". "Biggest man in the house and on the football team", Brock said with pride and flexed his right arm in front of his torso, making his 23 inch gun harden in a veiny, striated orb of meat. Tristan stared at the round ball of hard meat and shook his head. "If I want to see some dumb meat, I'll watch some cows. Just show my room. Then you can go back at mindlessly pumping iron to compensate", he said in a harsh tone. Brock relaxed his pose. "Let me grab yar bag", he said to break the tensed atmosphere. He tossed the bag over his broad shoulder and silently led the small boy to his room, wondering why the guy didn't admire his muscles like the others. Even though he could squash him like a bug, Tristan always made him feel somewhat unsecure. "Here we are", he said as he opened a door in a deserted hallway, "If ya need anything, let me know. Yar bro and I are staying on the other side of the house. I'll come get ya for diner", Brock said and left the small boy. He closed their door behind him and went for the gym. Tristan looked around the room but couldn't get the image of Brock's huge body from his mind. He'd always had a crush on the guy ever since he'd seen him shirtless, comparing his muscles to Brad's. Since then, Brock had only grown bigger and he'd often jerked off thinking off the guy's big muscles. He'd only played cool and uninterested to avoid being caught. Now, having stared at Brock's bulk stretching his tank top to the max, his cock was raging hard since the huge man had opened the door. Tristan unbuttoned his pants, pulled his throbbing 5 incher from his briefs and began stroking his hot shaft. Within seconds, he blew a watery, meager load, thinking about Brock's beastly body. He pulled his pants back on and got unpacked. A few hours later Brock returned from the gym with Brad. They found Tristan sitting in the kitchen, quietly eating dinner. "Hey, little bro. Heard you dropped out of high school", Brad said. "So?", Tristan replied without looking up. "Cool with me", Brad stated a bit uneasy. "Let's eat too", Brock said to break the tension. He knew Brad and Tristan had never really gotten along. "Good workout, man. Still feeling pumped", he said to Brad while he bounced his pumped pecs. Tristan looked up as he finished his meal and saw the meaty mounds of muscle dance atop the huge man's chest. "Lucky I'm done eating. One could easily lose his appetite looking at a half naked man with a role of fat protruding from his gut", he said while his cock hardened in his pants. "Sorry", Brock replied uneasily and put on a shirt he pulled from his gym bag. "Little bro. It's Brock who got the idea to invite ya over. So ya could get some distance from man and dad. So show him some gratitude", Brad said to his brother. "Wow, Brock. You're improving: you had an actual idea", Tristan answered instantly. He snickered as he noticed the embarrassment in the huge man's eyes. "I'm going to bed. Exhausted from the trip.", he said and disappeared from the kitchen. "I'm sorry, man", Brad said to his bigger friend, "I really thought my brother would thank ya for letting him stay here. I'll talk to him in the morning. So, nice record ya set on the bench today." A smile appeared on Brock's face when his buddy mentioned his new record. He felt testosterone flow through his 241 pound body just thinking of his lift. "I'm gonna trash our opponents on the football field. Can't wait to break the 250 pound mark", he said and groped his thick pecs. The confidence of being the biggest man around returning to him. The rest of the week went by as it had started: Tristan stayed in his room most of the time, avoiding his brother and Brock as much as he could. Brad and Brock let the small guy alone and spent lots of time in the gym, constantly pushing each other. They decided to throw a party just for the three of them, hoping to take Tristan's mind off things at home. As they ended their workout, Brad said he would get the booze. He took a quick shower and went to the store, while Brock blasted out some more sets to make his 23 inch arms grow some more. Brock smiled at his reflection as he did a double bicep and saw his pumped arms. Brock arrived back at the frat house, pulled off his sweat-drenched workout gear and strutted into the mutual showers. He heard the water running and saw Tristan standing under the farthest shower head. He nodded at the small guy and took the shower next to his. He sighed as the hot water cascaded down on his beastly body. Tristan looked up in shock as he heard the heavy footsteps and saw Brock stepping up to him. He quickly turned around, facing the tilled wall as the man he secretly lusted for stood next to him. He felt blood flowing to his flaccid cock and focused on hiding his beginning boner. Brock began soaping his wide, muscle-filled frame and looked aside to the small boy standing next to him. Up close and without his baggy clothes the guy looked even wimpier. "Nice tan ya have", he said, giving Tristan a compliment to break the tension that somehow always appeared between the two of them. "So that's why you're always in the gym: to look at other guys' bodies", Tristan replied and glanced aside to look at Brock's pumped arms. A shiver went through him as the masses of hard meat, choked with veins bulged while the huge man soaped his body. Another jolt shot through his further hardening cock. "No, I…", Brock muttered, "I really mean it: ya look good. Wish I had a bronze tan like yours". He felt even less sure after his remark, like the small guy made him feel weak and helpless. "Thanks, I guess", Tristan answered coldly. He turned off the shower, getting ready to leave. He turned toward the tilled wall on his right, his small back facing the huge man next to him and his hands covering his half-hard dick. Brock noticed the skinny boy's back and decided he had to talk things through."Tristan, wait", he said as he turned off his own shower. He gently put his paw atop the boy's frail shoulders. Tristan jumped up as the huge man's paws covered his bony shoulders completely. "What the fuck are you doing, Brock?", he yelped in his high-pitched voice and tried to squirm free. "Calm down. I just want to talk.", Brock replied and gently spun the small boy around so he could look him in the eye.
  21. Herald

    theft The muscle frat (1)

    One "Come on. One more, buddy!" Brad grunted from the effort, his face beet red as he curled the 100 pound barbell up. "10", he groaned between his teeth as he completed his rep. "Nice job, man", Brock said as he helped his buddy lower the barbell back down and place it on the floor. Both aged 21, the two had been friends ever since their first day in kindergarten and had always been in the same class up until university. Even then, they had both chosen Orchid University. After setting their first steps in the gym at age 15, they had continued working out together on a daily base and joined their high school's football team. Now they we're both among the star players of the university football team. Brad controlled his fast breathing and looked down at his former roommate grabbing the 120 pound bar from the rack. "Come on, final set!", he said to his buddy as he sat down on a bench, exhausted from their workout and took a sip from his shake. "Fuck yeah!", Brock growled as he began curling the barbell with perfect control. "Grow", he said to his arms, his big biceps swelling with every rep as more blood flowed into them. "8, agh, 9, agh, ten…", he groaned, "gimme a spot, man!". Brad got up from the bench and stood in front of his roommate. He placed his fingers underneath the middle of the barbell and assisted the movement. "Come on, one more!", he said to encourage Brock. "Eleuhven…", Brock grunted. His body trembled as he lowered the barbell back down. "Tweuhlve". Brad's eyes widened as his roommate went on to complete twenty reps before he helped him put the barbell down. While Brock grabbed his towel from the nearby bench, Brad looked at his own reflection in the mirror. He grinned and raised his right arm in a flex. The pumped bicep hardened atop his meaty arm, blue veins snaking along the muscle. "How big are those guns?", Brock asked as he emptied his shake and looked up at his buddy. "Just under 18 inches pumped", Brad replied and hardened his flex some more. Brock moved next to his friend and raised his right arm to copy his pose. His bicep, pumped and red from the workout, mounded upward as he brought in his lower arm. The peak pushed against his skin and a web of blue, thick veins fed the steely orb. "Nice man", Brad said while he stared at the obviously bigger arm. "22,5 inches all pumped", Brock stated with pride. "Let's hit the shower, man", he said as he relaxed his arm and strutted toward the exit. "Yeah", Brad answered. "So, any other news?", he asked as he caught up with his buddy. "I told ya a million times, man: I'm not the president of the frat. Just be patient", Brock said and patted his buddy on the back. "I've been waiting for an invite ever since we've got here three years ago. You got in during the second semester of our freshman year. This year is my last shot", Brad went on. Ever since Brock had been allowed into the Dexameni-frat, the most exclusive frat on campus that housed most of the top athletes, he'd been jealous. He'd been checking his locker for an invite every day since his best buddy had gotten in. Brock turned to face Brad, grabbed his shoulders and made him look in his eyes. "Your chance will come, buddy. Be patient!", he said in a loud tone to cut off Brad. He released his friend and continued his way to the locker room. Brad sighed, knowing his friend was right and followed him inside. The locker room was completely deserted. They took off their sweaty workout gear in silence. Brad was down to his boxers and reached for his locker when he noticed the little black envelope. "No way", he mumbled and took it. His hands trembled as he ripped it open and read the piece of paper inside. You've proven worthy to join the ranks of the Dexameni-frat. Report to the frat house this Friday at 1900h "Good news?", Brock asked, keeping his back to Brad as he stripped completely. "I'm in!", Brad blurted out. "Told ya to be patient, buddy. I'm glad for ya", Brock replied and strutted toward the shower zone. He turned on the shower and let the hot water cascade down on his muscular body. He looked aside to Brad standing under the shower to his right. "Did ya bulk up during summer?", he asked, "Ya look bigger than last year". "Yeah", Brad answered, "I'm up to 182. I'm catching up, buddy". Brock smiled at the reaction. Even though Brad was a tad taller, 5'9 to his own 5'8, their bodies looked different. Brad had the muscular physique of a ripped fitness model, while he had the heavily muscled look of a bulky amateur bodybuilder. "Still some work ahead, buddy. I've gained some mass too: up to 229,3 pounds." Brad turned to his side and faced his buddy. Every muscle on Brock's body looked fuller than his defined ones. "Ready to burst through the 230 mark, he big guy. We'd better change your nickname from B-rock to B-wall", he said. "My abs look better though." He caressed the grooves of his ripped six-pack. A smug grin appeared on Brock's face when his friend used his nickname. He'd always liked being called b-rock; it made him feel even bigger than he was. "Ya know what they say", he said playfully, "abs on a skinny guy don't count". He flexed his abs in response, making his somewhat protruding muscle gut harden. "You're lucky we're friends. I should have kicked your ass for that remark", Brad stated with a smile. They always fooled around but he knew his buddy always had his back. "Kick my ass? You and what army?", Brock answered in an amused tone. He turned to his right and faced his friend. Brad's defined muscles gave him an athletic look. His own muscles were clearly fuller and rounder, his shoulder's half again as wide than his buddy's. "Think ya could challenge the b-rock?", he asked as he threw a most muscular. Brad stared at his 229 pound friend flexing right in front of him. The bulky muscles hardened all over his broad frame: his thick arms digging into the rack of pecs atop his muscle gut, his meaty quads pushing against each other. "At least, I'm taller", he said with a smirk and stood tall to stretch out his 5'9 frame. "Ya have to have something to attract some female attention", Brock replied playfully, " otherwise no one would notice ya next to me." He relaxed his pose and gently punched his friend in the shoulder. "Na. You're lucky to have your big muscles. Your ugly face scares off anyone", Brad answered. "Thanks for helping me get in the frat. I really appreciate it, man", he said and thankfully patted his buddy's broad back. "I'm happy I could help. See ya on Friday for the initiation", Brock said as he turned off the shower and strutted away from the shower zone, water sliding along the crevices of his bulky muscles. Two days later, Brad made his way over to the Dexameni-frat house. His legs quivered slightly with every step he took and his stomach clenched together: it felt like his first day of school again. He looked up at the façade of the mansion he'd passed nearly daily since he's been on campus. Two flexed, muscular arms were painted on the wide door and the name of the frat of his dreams sat atop it: DEXAMENI. Brad inhaled deeply to calm his nerves and stepped up toward the entrance. He knocked three times and waited. What seemed like an eternity passed before the heavy wooden doors opened squeakingly. A muscular, bare-chested figure appeared in the dark corridor. "Come in!", a deep baritone boomed. Brad sighed, he had recognized Brock's deep voice and eagerly entered the frat house. "I'm glad it's you, Brock", he said, "I'm…". "Silence!", Brock rumbled, "you only speak when spoken too! Follow me!". Brad jumped up as the heavy doors closed behind him and by the harsh tone of his best friend. He nodded and followed the big guy through the long, dark corridor. Brock opened a door on his right and entered, his smaller buddy following right behind. "Strip down to your boxers", he said and folded his meaty arms in front of his protruding pecs. Brad obeyed and stripped off his clothes until he was standing in his American flag boxers in front of his friend. "So what's next?", he asked. "SILENCE!", Brock roared. Brad shivered, his friend's deep baritone rumbling inside his stomach. Brock led his friend into another room and made him wait by the door while he stepped up to the center of the room. He stopped at the base of a wooden staircase that led to an altar with a throne behind it. "O great leader", he said as he looked up to the figure in the throne, "I bring you a new recruit that wishes to join the ranks of our noble frat." "Bring him before me", the leader replied. Brock walked back to the door where Brad was standing and brought him to the center of the room. Brad's heart pounded nervously but the feeling of his buddy standing behind him, comforted him. "Step forward, brothers", he figure on the throne said. The other frat members appeared from the shadows and formed a circle around Brad and Brock. All of them were bare-chested like Brock and looked at Brad. Brad looked around and recognized Orchid University's star athletes. Their muscular torsos glistened as if they had been oiled up. He saw two of his teammates from the football team, the three top wrestlers and some other athlete's he didn't know which sport they played. He looked up at the figure on the throne and recognized him as the captain of the swim team. He wondered why the clearly smallest guy in the room was the leader of the frat. Keith, the frat leader, stepped from his throne and looked down at Brad. "Everyone that wishes to join the noble DEXAMENI-frat needs the advocacy of a senior member. Step forward he that backs this recruits acceptance!". Brad looked around nervously, but none of the frat members moved an inch. He felt his heartbeat going up, seeing his long awaited dream shattering before his eyes. "I support his candidacy!" Brad inhaled in relief as he heard Brock's voice and felt his buddy's paw atop his shoulder. "Very well", Keith said, "You have the support you need, recruit. Now let's see if you're truly worthy of joining the noble DEXAMENI-frat!". Before Brad could react, his boxers were yanked down and he stood fully exposed amidst his fellow athletes. He felt the blood race to his face and his cheeks started reddening. He moved his hands to cover his cock but two frat members moved in and tightly held his arms at his sides. He felt Brock's left paw grab his side and steady him. He inhaled deeply as his best friend's right paw grabbed his soft cock and began stroking it. He felt his cock harden and swell inside the strong paw that clenched around his inflating shaft. Within seconds he was rock hard. He looked down and saw that his fully hard 8 incher was completely engulfed by Brock's meaty paw. He noticed the tension on the corded muscles atop his friend's lower arm as the paw kept clutching his cock. His breathing fastened more and more as he felt on the verge of orgasm. "UGHN", he groaned as Brock gave his rock hard 8 incher a final, very hard squeeze and his balls spewed out their load. Six heavy blasts shot from his cock in an arch through the air before splattering down several feet further. He felt his muscles relax but the strong grasp of the two frat members that were holding his arms, kept him upright. He sighed in relief as Brock released his softening cock and grabbed his sides with both hands to steady him. "Seven feet and nine inches far", Keith said, "He's worthy of joining our noble DEXAMENI-frat!". The other frat members cheered as their leader grabbed the chalice from the altar and moved in front of Brad. He nodded at Brock. Brad felt his buddy release his right flank and grab his half-hard cock again. "Ughn", he grunted as his cock was stroked back to hardness. His drained balls stabbed in protest as a second orgasm was milked out of them only minutes after the first. His entire body went rigid as the warm, meaty paw grabbed his balls and clenched them together. Three watery loads leaked from his nearly fully hard cock into the chalice Keith held at its end. He would have collapsed as Brock hadn't grabbed his left armpit so secure him. He looked down and saw his buddy pull up his boxers before the warm right paw grabbed his other armpit. A feeling of relief went through his exhausted body. Keith shook the chalice, held it above his head for all the frat members to see it and placed it back on the altar. He turned around and looked back at Brad. "Welcome to our ranks, Brad!", he said, "now, let's party!". The frat members howled loudly and left the chamber. Bard followed them, not caring he was in his boxers. The feeling of finally being part of the frat filled him with joy.
  22. Hialmar

    m/m The Security Squad, Part 2

    Last chapter is found here: The Security Squad: Part 2 News-reports about the so-called Security Squad were rare, and only reported about successful operations to prevent terrorist attacks. If what the news agencies reported, about the Security Squad, had been entirely true and the entire truth, The Squad would have been a force for the good -- as far as that was possible, under our contemporary regime -- but many of us doubted the accuracy of the news we heard or read. Many of us. Not all of us. Some neighbours, even those who initially had objected to the re-structuring of our political system, gradually moved into acceptance of the status quo. Some of us heard the whispered rumours: About disappearances of those critical to The Leader. About sinister operations by the Security Squad. About rebels of several stripes not able to agree with each other. Brad had been drafted before he could finish his studies in Ancient history and Archaeology. I had finished a Master Degree, and found work at a computer company. Brad had been away for six months, until he was permitted one week of leave. He spent two days with his parents, but had told me, that he would be glad to spend time with me. I didn't know what to expect. He had switched back to civilian clothes -- mostly. He was wearing his favourite type of jeans and Adidas trainers, but his black t-shirt was printed in white with the heraldic crest of the Security Squad, and, since the weather was cold, he was wearing a shiny black bomber jacket. His former stylish haircut was changed into a stern jarhead cut. The bones of his face were more discernable than before. He had had that look twice before, shortly before competitions. That meant, that the Squad kept his bodyfat low. If he had been a friendly and intellectual bro before, he now felt intimidating. Was this the same person I knew, any longer, or had they succeeded in turning him into a stranger? "Hello, Joe! Long time, no see! I am glad to see you." There was something about the voice. Different. Military. Mixed feelings erupted. They had taken him from me, and turned him into a willing instrument for them. But there was also something thrilling about my close friend being a Squad-member. Dangerous. Able to explode into action. Into God knows what violent acts. I felt worried for him. "What about a meal? I can afford it now." We both knew a restaurant with a menu friendly towards the habits of fitness buffs and bodybuilders. The meal was decent enough, but it scarred my soul to listen to Brad's new jingoistic vocabulary. "I am proud to serve the greatest Leader our country has ever had, and I am proud to serve the greatest country on Earth. We have never had it so good." Brad suggested a walk in the park, and, without any greater amount of enthusiasm, I accepted. "Some chewing gum after dinner? I brought your favourite." Chewing gum? Favourite? I had never liked chewing gums very much. Brad passed me a thin and long chewing gum of a very old fashioned sort. The tinfoil paper looked like it was used. I unwrapped it. Someone had written on the gum stick with a pencil: Don't say something compromising. I turned it around: We might be bugged. "Aren't you going to chew it?" "Thinking about it -- that sort is so thin, that you need two or three pieces, to have something to chew on." He passed me another chewing gum. The tinfoil paper looked used on this one, too. More pencilled words: They try to break me. I'm still the same. and on the backside: Just play along. "Do you have any time for exercise any longer, Brad? "That's the best thing with the Squad. Some exercise is mandatory, and exercise on our spare time is encouraged. How about your own exercise?" I felt embarrassed. Without Brad around to push me, I didn't train as often as we had done together, before he was conscripted. "So and so. Not like before." "I can see that. You look thinner than before." Suddenly he looked concerned. He put his hand on my shoulder. We sat close to each other, like we used to do before. Despite his attempt to assuring messages (that was actually quite alarming), I felt worried. Nothing would become the same again. Bugged? Saying something compromising? I was very glad to see him, and he hugged me several times, but a lot of things were not like before. The days came and went. He returned to his base. - - - A month later, an envelope, that looked very official, arrived in my postbox. I couldn't believe my eyes. A conscription draft. Me? Of all persons... The Security Squad? Who has gone insane among the authorities? I was supposed to take a train to the station so-and-so, and would receive further orders when there. My world crumbled. The small corner of normality, which I had tried to uphold in a mad time, was robbed from me. My reasonably good job. My reasonably good flat. I worked the next day in a dazed state. I arranged for one of my cousins to take over my flat. I ate at one of my usual places, which, I am sad to admit, wasn't the healthy place with all the egg-white omelettes and whey-muffins. A woman, who looked vaguely familiar, sat down at my table without asking. I looked up. "Karen? It's years! What are you doing here?" She smiled, but I couldn't free myself from the impression, that the smile was somewhat artificial. "I'm visiting old relatives. As you know..." She laid a paper napkin in front of me. A paper napkin with text. Please spy on Security Squad. Don't show surprise. We'll contact you. "... my parents are dead, but I have several other relatives left in town." "Town", I said with some irritation. "Small city, then. What are you doing nowadays?" "Working with computers. Yourself?" "I'm writing articles for a magazine about engineering. Oh forgive me..." She sneezed, and blew her nose in the paper napkin. The ink must have been soluble, since the text turned into a blurry blot. She swiftly pressed the napkin into a little ball. The evening continued. My world was becoming even more confused, but I tried to keep a good facade. I have no idea, about how well I managed. - - - Yellow leaves were falling from the trees, in the alley close to the railway station. I was wandering around the station building, waiting for other travellers to disperse. I suspected, that the personel from Security Squad wouldn't blatantly advertise about the exact location of one of their bases, even if such things seldomly would be hidden from the locals for any longer time. I wasn't the only one, who seemed to wait for some sort of transport. Three other men seemed to wait, and seemed to not be from these whereabouts. I observed one of them. It couldn't be... Not him! But it was. Bill from first to sixth grade. He was now in his mid-20s, and his face was of course more mature than it had been then, but he had kept the visage of a bulldog, and time hadn't robbed him from his baby-fat, but turned it into the belly of an over-weight young man, instead. I hadn't seen him for almost ten years. What was he doing here? A bus arrived. The driver was wearing some sort of non-descript uniform, and it was hard to guess which branch of the armed forces he belonged to. "Documents, please." All four of us fumbled after our drafts, and having checked them and our ID cards, he allowed us aboard the bus. We left the railway station behind. The base was located one hour into nowhere, and surrounded by a bleak and autumnal landscape. It was already becoming dark. The moment we left the bus, a man in a very intimidating uniform left one of the buildings, and stood before us. His uniform trousers were made of black leather. He was wearing a black army sweater of wool, with some extra padding at the elbows and shoulders. His army boots were heavy, and looked high tech. "Recruits! I am Sergeant Williams, and you will soon regret the day you met me. I will be your worst nightmare. I will break you, and I will rebuild you into harder, better, faster, stronger men, so that you will better serve your country and your Leader. But first, you will all collect your equipment in that building. No questions. You will be briefed later." The Sergeant was scaring the shit out of me, but not only me. With some glee, I noticed, that the Sergeant had frightened Bill, too. We jogged in the direction of the building, and collected our equipment. Though wearing the same sort of uniform as Sarge, the man behind the counter was slightly less frightening, and adviced us about the whereabouts of the barracks. I began to put my civilian clothes into a locker, and put some of my equipment into it, which took some time. "I don't know what the hell you are doing here, Joe, but I will make your life a hell." I knew that voice. I turned around. It was Bill. I don't know how he had managed, but he had already changed into uniform. Obviously, it could change the appearance even of a man with a belly. I felt trapped. Memories from the past rose to the surface of my mind. Schoolyards. Shouting children. Rubble in my palm. "How slow are you weak sissies actually?", a voice roared. It was the Sergeant again. "You were given this much time, and none of you has managed to fill your locker in an orderly way and change into uniform." I glanced in the direction of Bill's locker. He had spent his time changing, but had left both his civilian clothes and his equipment in a heap in front of his locker. The Sergeant continued to roar: "I give you five minutes." I am not able to describe the following days in any detail. They are a blur of running with equipment, shouting, inspections, push-ups and surprise awakenings. I remember the scent of shoe polish, leather, wet wool and male sweat. A positive aspect of those days was, that Bill never had the time or opportunity to make any threats into reality, and, since he was in worse physical condition than I, he was generally exhausted. I still didn't know, why two such unsuitable persons like myself and Bill had been recruited. - - - For some time, the men who had arrived with me (and those who had arrived with some communications immediately before and after us) were kept isolated from the other men, but, one day, that limitation was lifted. I was eating lunch, noticing, that the quality of the food had improved. For days, we had eaten food rich in starch, but not containing much else, but now we were given fish, egg halves, omelettes and low-fat yoghurt, among other things. Someone sat down on the empty chair opposite my own. I looked up. It was Brad. I hadn't seen him in uniform before. He was the type of person, which this uniform was designed for, to begin with. His black, woolen sweater enhanced the forms of his shoulders, traps and chest. His narrow waist was obvious for everyone. The black leather trousers with pockets on their legs made him look more dangerous than Sarge. His face was less gaunt, than when we had met the last time, and he was radiant of health. "Your new haircut suits you, Private. Makes you look much more masculine." Brad nodded at my jarhead cut. "Brad!" "No, not when we are on duty. I'm Sergeant Smith now. Williams is not the only Sergeant around, as you will notice. But I am glad to see you." "Permission to speak, Sir!" "Granted." "What am I doing here, Sir? Any records of physical tests must show, that I am not of the same ability as yourself, Sir!" "I am not able to reveal any classified information, Private, but I am assured, that you will soon be briefed. How have you endured recent time?" "Sergeant Williams has enhanced my cardio, Sergeant, but I am not used to army life. I'm rather good at keeping my locker neat." "I see. Your schedule is filled with activity most of the time, and so is mine, but let us see, if we can talk more when our times for recreation overlap." To be continued. The story continues here:
  23. flamedelft

    sci-fi My alien prisoner - prologue

    So I've thought of a new story, so let me know what you guys think. This part is just a rough introduction, no growth, no sex or anything. That will come later. Shoutout to SeaMuscle and ragmangsm for being an inspiration for this story! --- So, today I met an alien. I was reading a book under a tree between classes, when I noticed someone approached me. I mentally marked the page and closed the book, turning my attention to the person that was standing next to me. "Can I help you?" I asked. The person wore a pair of baggy sweatpants and a hoodie, which was weird considering how warm it was. The hood covered his eyes, but I could see the lower half of his face, which looked coal black. He wasn't wearing any shoes. He didn't look very tall, I guessed him being about 5'6''. "Yes, er, are you Michael Rector?" His voice was deep, but it had a strange quality to it. I nodded, "Yeah, that's me." I noticed he was holding a package in his hands. Was he a mailman? "Er... I'm not from this planet, and I've been sent here as my punishment. You're one of the several jailers that have been picked for me. Will you accept your designation?" I was not expecting that. "Uh, what? I'm supposed to jail you?" He shuffled his feet, that I just noticed looked more chimp-like than human-like, and looked down, "Y-yes. You don't need to accept, of course. I can go to the next jailer." "What exactly does being your jailer mean? What would I have to do if I accept?" He put the package down on the ground, reached into a pocket and took out a folded paper. He unfolded it and with a cough, started reading it: "Dear potential jailer, you, along with several other humans, have been picked for the role based on specific criteria that we've checked beforehand. #548635-5422, the entity standing before you, broke his contract of servitude, and thus has been sent to your planet for one lifetime as their punishment. If you accept your designation, the punished will be bound to you, having to follow your orders and you would discipline them if you deemed necessary (disciplinary remote control included in the package). Note that the punished doesn't need any sustenance beyond the starlight, but starving them is considered abuse of your authority, and the punished will be retrieved from your care. If you agree to being a jailer for #548635-5422, thank you for making the Universe a better place." With that, he refolded the paper, put it back inside, picked up the package and waited for my reply. I was silent for a moment, absorbing the information he just dumped on me. "Well. I was not expecting that. I have one more question. Am I at liberty to stop being your jailer after I accept, or is this a 'till death do us part' deal?" "Well, as was in the paper, this punishment is for one lifetime, so if you die, my punishment is over." "You mean... oh. What's to stop you from killing me right after I accept?" "I have a very strong mental control chip installed, which renders me incapable to even think of harming my jailer and forcing me to obey their orders." "So let me get this straight. I get a personal servant with no repercussions and no downsides?" I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face. "Yes." He looked almost relaxed, but I wasn't sure I was reading his posture right. "So what do I have to do?" "You need to insert a DNA sample into the box, which unlocks it, and sends the signal that the jailer accepts to my chip." My eyes widened with surprise, "I need to cum in the box? Really?" He tilted his head, "I'm not sure what you mean. I doubt you'd fit in there. Usually this is done by pouring the jailer's spit into the receptacle." "Right, that makes much more sense. Alright, give me the box." He gave me the box and pointed out the opening, into which I spit. A few moments later, the box disintegrated and all that was left of it was a device that looked like a tv-remote. "Well, let's go home, shall we?" He nodded, and followed after me. ---So that's it for now. As always, any comments, critique and anything else is greatly appreciated!
  24. Herald

    theft The Flexorcist (26)

    Twenty-six All eyes turned toward the entrance as the deep voice rumbled through the wrestle hall. Connor looked up and he kept pumping out pushups. He grinned as he recognized Alex. Alex slowly walked to the center of the hall. He looked around at the staring wrestlers and bellowed: “Leave! The big men are gonna play now!”. All the wrestlers raced to the door and abandoned the wrestle hall, not wanting to get trampled during a fight between those beast. “You stay here, boy. You’ll be the ref”, Connor said to the diminished coach. He got up, leaving the defeated Aaron in the left corner of the hall and stepped up to face Alex. His smile got bigger as he savored in how he now outsized the football player. Alex stared at the clearly bigger wrestler and noticed the new size of his huge muscles. Surprise flickered in his eyes as he now had to look up at the one foot taller behemoth. Connor saw the look in his opponent’s eyes and said: “Ready to get your ass kicked? Or do you wanna forfeit? I’m 40 pounds bigger than yesterday. Makes me outsize ya by 100 pounds of muscle!”. He threw a most muscular to illustrate his words: his gigantic muscles hardened under his skintight singlet, making veins and striations visible through the overstretched fabric. “I took you down twice yesterday, boy”, Alex replied matter-of-factly, “Those extra pounds won’t help ya. All wrestlers are weak pussies”. “I’m gonna enjoy beating the shit out of ya. I’ll trash ya good and then fuck the living daylights out of ya as I rape your ass”, Connor shot back angrily. “You talk the talk but can you walk the walk, boy? Yesterday your words were also stronger than your weak muscles”, Alex answered tauntingly. “Let’s do this!”, Connor yelled and moved in on his opponent. Tomas grinned in triumph as he finished the translation of the book. He now knew every detail for the upcoming dark ritual. The role of his muscular pet was now totally clear to him; it wasn’t like he had expected. He had less than 48 hours left to make the final arrangements. He would first get some sleep and then study the plans of Orchid university to determine the precise location for the ritual. “Matt may leave the hospital today”, Logan said as he put down his phone, “I’ve told the nurse we’ll come to pick him up tonight.” “We’d planned to hit the gym tonight when it’s deserted”, Paul stated, “Mike and I have to be at our prime for those tests. We haven’t hit the gym in two days. Just doing pushups and sit-ups here won’t get us ready. If we don’t pass those tests…”. “You’re right”, Sean said, “we can’t risk you guys failing ‘cause we all depend on your careers. The three of us will go pick up Matt from the hospital and you guys can hit the gym. But we’ll have to make sure you’re in there alone and don’t run into Anton, Connor or Alex.” “Alex shouldn’t be a problem”, Mike interrupted, “the football team has a big game on Saturday. They leave this afternoon to get there in time. He’ll be off campus tonight”. “If we get Connor and Anton to follow us and lose them around the building, we can get to the hospital in peace”, Sean added, “I suggest we take a hotel room in town then to avoid Tomas and his gang”. “You’re gonna leave us here?”, Mike asked incredulously. The door suddenly swung open and Keith rushed in with a smile. “Great news, guys.” The others looked at him quizzically. “I’ve just met some wrestlers when I was out to get our food”, he said, “they’ve told me Connor’s gotten even bigger.” “And that’s good news?”, Logan answered instantly. “Let me finish. Apparently he’s in a fight with Alex. The wrestlers told me that Alex stormed in during their training, challenged Connor and told them to leave. Seems like they’re fighting to be the dominant muscle freak”, Keith stated. “That’s excellent news”, Sean replied, “If they’re busy fighting each other we’ll only have to avoid Anton. No need to live off campus till we leave for those tests then.” “Let’s eat and get some rest for tonight”, Paul said as he rubbed his growling stomach. Alex avoided the bigger behemoth’s first attack and circled him slowly, keeping his eyes locked onto him. Connor followed the football player’s movements and calculated his next move. He rushed in with a load roar. Alex put out his arms in front of his 500 pound body and they locked in with his opponent’s. His right paw reached Connor’s neck at the same time Connor’s right paw grabbed his neck; their left hands interlocked as they struggled. He could instantly feel the power in the 600 pound wrestler’s muscles. He tapped onto the strength in his own 500 pound body to withstand the attack. Connor saw his opponent’s face turning red from the effort and a smug grin formed on his face. He felt the energy coursing through him and applied more force. Alex’ mighty legs shook as they tried to resist the increasing pressure. He could feel himself being pushed down inch by inch. His knees buckled as his thick quads were losing the struggle against his opponent. Connor pushed even harder, making the football player collapse down on the mat. “We’re just getting started”, he rumbled and ripped off his opponent’s shirt and pants, leaving him in just his boxers. Alex felt the cool air brush against his titanic muscles as his clothes were ripped off his 500 pound frame. “You are stronger than yesterday, boy”, he said as he got back up. “BOY???”, Connor yelled angrily. He let his opponent get up and smacked his fist into his abs. Alex saw Connor’s fist and instinctively clenched his 12-pack. The cobblestone-sized abs turned into a protective, steely armor and absorbed the hard blow. Before he could react, the wrestler’s strong 50-inch arms wrapped around him and he was body slammed hard onto the mat. He grunted in pain as his broad back collided with the mats. “YEAH!”, Connor boomed as he stared down at his opponent. Power and energy rushed through him as he now dominated the beast that took him down a day ago. “Thirsty for more?”, he asked as he circled around the football player. “That all you got, boy?”, Alex replied as he sprang up to his feet. Connor jumped aside, facing his opponent’s muscular back and moved in swiftly. He locked his huge paws behind the football player’s neck and took him in a full nelson. Alex squirmed and flexed his muscles to escape but the strong hold didn’t break. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t break his opponent’s grip. For the very first time since he’d gotten huge, fear crept into his mind. “What’s the matter? Not strong enough to get free?”, Connor asked mockingly as he withstood the 500 pound athlete’s struggles. “Never start a fight you can’t finish”, he said and rocked his opponent back and forth in his grip. He felt all-powerful dominating Alex and reclaiming his top spot. His plump cock started to harden in his singlet. Alex heard the remark but focused all his energy on getting free. His 500 pound body moved back and forth as his opponent shook him. He could feel the wrestler’s cock hardening against his lower back through the fabric of his singlet. “Let’s end it”, Connor said and jumped up while maintaining his grip on the football player. He stretched his torso upward and threw his opponent down as he released his grip. “Augh” Alex grunted in pain as his thickly muscled back crashed hard onto the mat. Connor slowly lowered himself atop the fallen beast, pressing his protruding chest into his opponent’s thick pecs and waited for the coach the end the match while staring the football player in the eye. He looked up and scanned the wrestle hall as nothing happened: the frail coach was nowhere to be seen. “That runt must have sneaked out”, Connor rumbled, “Might as well count ya out myself”. “1… 2…” Just before Connor would say ‘3’, Alex placed his big paws against the side of Connor’s wide pecs and lifted him up. He cranked out a few reps as if he was doing bench presses and shoved the wrestler aside. Connor couldn’t believe his opponent had escaped his hold but wasn’t going to let him get away. He got up quickly, placed his paws under the behemoth’s armpits and threw him to the left corner of the wrestle hall. Alex flew several feet before crashing down on the mat. He blinked in pain. He looked aside as he heard a whisper in his ear. He stared at a well muscled wrestler slowly sitting up next to him. “Hit his abs”, Aaron whispered. Alex didn’t have time to react. He was lifted up and put to his feet. A strong fist instantly slammed into his stomach as he stood up. His fingers clawed up as he bent over in pain. They hooked into the fabric of the wrestler’s singlet and ripped it as he sank to his knees. Connor felt his singlet shred and did a most muscular. The bulging masses of hard meat flexed and ripped through the elastic, overstretched fabric, exposing his intimidating torso as the tattered singlet fell down until reaching the bottom row of his hard 12-pack, there it was still tightly stretched around his steely muscles. “You miring?”, he said as he looked down on his opponent. Alex gulped as he looked up at the flexed rack of muscle that jutted from the 600 pound behemoth’s chest. He marveled at the incredible sight of veins and striations that crisscrossed the wide surface atop the deeply grooved 12-pack. Connor saw the look of admiration in his opponent’s eyes. He relaxed his muscles and extended his arm toward his opponent. “Good fight, man. Now get up and let’s have some fun in the showers”, he said as he offered his hand to the other behemoth. Alex blinked at the remark. He knew he was at the wrestler’s mercy: Connor’s superior strength had clearly overpowered him. He grabbed the paw and pulled himself up to his feet. Suddenly, his other paw turned into a fist and smacked against the wrestler’s exposed 12-pack. Connor grunted in pain at the sudden attack. The jackhammer-like fist slammed unbelievably hard into his stomach. The relaxed, still not completely recovered abs protested in pain. He looked in surprise into the other behemoth’s eyes and saw the fist coming at his face. He turned his head to avoid the attack but the fist still hit his left cheek. He lost his balance and fell backwards to the mat. Alex moved in for his next assault. Connor reacted quickly, though. His 600 pound frame wouldn’t go down that easily. He jumped back to his feet, grabbed the football player’s throat and tossed him backward in the air. Alex didn’t crash down. Like a cat, he landed on his feet and squatted down to absorb the impact. He used the energy to catapult himself forward and shot rapidly toward the wrestler. Connor didn’t know what happened. One moment he saw Alex crashing down, the next his round, hard delt collided with his own aching 12-pack. Another jolt of stabbing pain rolled through his 600 pound body as the cannonball-sized delt dented his abs and knocked the wind out of him. He placed his paws against his opponent’s flanks to force him back. Alex anticipated the wrestler’s move. He grabbed the back of his thick legs and moved his own 500 pound body up to make his opponent’s feet leave the ground. He moved forward to knock his opponent over. Connor felt his feet dangling in the air and fell back. The air was forced out of his lungs again as his broad, thick back crashed hard into the mats. His wrestle instincts made him pull down the other behemoth as well. Alex rolled free from the wrestler’s grip and swiftly got up. He inhaled deeply to control his breathing and stormed at his opponent. Connor got up and saw the other behemoth rushing at him. He held his mighty arms in front of him to protect his aching body. He moved his hands to the right as he saw the football player moving slightly in that direction. Alex diverged to the right but quickly jumped to the left. He knew Connor had taken the bate when he saw his hands follow his move and easily evaded the wrestler’s intimidating arms. He used the momentum of his rush to knock his right fist with full force into his opponent’s stomach. “AUGH” A loud, painful groan escaped Connor’s mouth as his opponent’s fist sank deeply into his relaxed 12-pack and busted through his defenses. The force of the blow made him stumble backward. His broad back made contact with the wall as he fell. He didn’t slump down, though. Alex had jumped to the wrestler and grabbed his left armpit, preventing him to slid down against the wall to the floor. He held the 600 pound behemoth against the wall and smacked his right fist hard into the ever softening abs. Connor groaned in pain as the jackhammer-like fist kept raining down on his battered stomach. Again. And again. And again. He tried raising his free right arm but all his remaining energy was being sent to flex his abs to protect him. The relentless attacks were draining his energy and his flexed, armor-like stomach was on the verge of collapsing completely. He squirmed to free himself from the smaller behemoth’s grasp. Panic filled his eyes as he saw Alex slowly retracting his right paw and menacingly clenching it into a steely fist. “Even 100 pounds aren’t enough to beat me, boy”, Alex said as he noticed the fear in the wrestler’s eyes. He pulled back his right fist, tapped onto the full force of his 55 inch arm and roared deeply as he smacked it into the 600 pound behemoth’s stomach. Lightning bolts of pain exploded through Connor’s beastly body as Alex’ fist destroyed his abs. The steely hard, flexed 12-pack turned to pulp as the wrecking ball-like fist sank deep into his stomach. Connor fell forward against the other behemoth. Alex felt the wrestler slumping forward against him and locked his arms around him in a bone crushing bear hug. He used the momentum of his opponent’s fall to turn around and slammed him down on the mat. Connor smacked down on the mat on his back, closing his eyes and grunting as pain overwhelmed him. He slowly reopened his eyes and saw the football player looming over him. Connor raised his hands to indicate he’d had enough. Alex didn’t give his 600 pound opponent time to raise his hands completely, though. He grabbed him under his armpits and lifted him up, his pumped 55 inch arms swelling into round bowling ball-sized orbs as they hoisted up the weight. He smacked the wrestler hard against his own protruding chest, wrapped his titanic arms around his extremely muscled torso and flexed them in an almighty bear hug. Connor’s hulking body shook in pain as the smaller behemoth’s arms overpowered its battered, yet bigger muscles. It felt like steely girders wrapped around and compressing his concrete-like hard muscles. His head shot back as more and more excruciating pain rolled over his body. He tried to summon every last ounce of power left in him to break free. Alex saw the determination on Connor’s face and felt the wrestler squirming in his grasp. He roared deeply and tapped onto the last reserve of power left in his own 500 pound body. He grunted from the effort as his rock-hard 55 inch arm flexed harder and sank some more into the 600 pound wrestler’s collapsing muscles. Connor moaned in deep pain, his eyes closed as the impossibly hard peaks of his opponent’s massive biceps dug into his now jelly-like obliques. He was on the verge of passing out. Alex bent slightly through his legs, his quads bulging with mass and power, and stretched upward quickly. He turned around, opened his hold and slammed the wrestler down on the mat with full force. Another weak grunt of pain escaped Connor’s mouth as his back smacked hard onto the mats. He reopened his eyes and saw the football player moving in. He didn’t have time to react as the other behemoth sat down on his quads, preventing him from moving. Alex installed himself atop the wrestler’s gigantic quads and began throwing punches into his dark red, battered 12-pack. Connor’s wrestle instincts summoned him to react and he scraped together the last ounces of energy left in his 600 pound body. He raised his hands, his huge arms shaking from the effort and shoved the football player’s protruding chest to knock him aside. Alex didn’t budge as the wrestler pushed against his chest: his opponent hadn’t enough power left to knock him over. He quickly flexed his 12-pack to steady his 500 pound body and kept ravaging the now soft abs below him. His thick fist sank deeply into the wrestler’s stomach. “What did you say about starting a fight, boy?”, he asked mockingly in between punches. Connor’s arms fell back onto the mat. His huge, 600 pound, muscle filled frame lay like a crucifix on the mat. His mind tried to process what had happened: although he outsized Alex by 100 pounds of pure muscle, the guy had taken him down a third time in two days! Tomas would have to make him even bigger to crush the formerly skinny water boy. “You had me in the ropes but let me recover”, Alex said as he ripped off his own boxers to reveal his throbbing 20 incher, “that’s why you’ll never beat me, boy. You don’t have the guts to finish things. Deep inside you’re still the weak, little runt you were before you grew. I have always been aggressive even when I was a skinny loser”. He positioned the head of his cock against the wrestler’s ass and rammed it into it, ripping through the fabric of the singlet. Connor grunted in pain and pleasure as the slightly curved cock invaded his ass. “YEAUGH!”, Alex boomed in his deep baritone voice. He had just taken down the biggest guy he’d ever seen and was now claiming his prize. He thrust his hips back and forth, shoving his 20 incher in and out of the tight, muscular ass and flexed his arms in absolute triumph atop his fallen opponent. Connor stared in awe at the monstrous, 55 inch arms flexing into perfection. His half-hard 25 incher blew a load, creaming into his tattered singlet as the other behemoth’s arms turned into vein-covered, striated, bowling ball-sized orbs of hard meat. Alex noticed the swelling dark patch on what was left of the wrestler’s singlet and hardened his flex some more. The feeling of having once more dominated this muscular beast sent him over the edge. Load after load of sticky cum blasted from his balls through the throbbing shaft of his 20 inch cock and jolted into the spasming ass he was pounding. He relaxed his arms and grabbed the impossibly huge, protruding rack of pecs atop the wrestler’s chest as he kept pumping cum into his ass. Connor groaned as the 20 inch cock throbbed inside him and its hot liquid filled his intestines. He felt his opponent’s paws on his pecs and flexed the huge muscles. His 600 pound body hadn’t enough energy left to obey his command and Alex easily overpowered the hard surface. “Too weak to flex, boy? Or no match for a real man’s grasp?”, Alex asked tauntingly and dug his fingers deep into the masses of muscle. He blew a tenth and final load into the muscular ass and withdrew his slowly deflating cock from it. He stood up, towering over the battered behemoth on the mat, his deflating cock leaking some cum onto the worn out wrestler. He turned around and strutted over to the right corner of the wrestle hall. Aaron had watched the fight in awe and gulped as he saw the nude behemoth coming over to him, his plump cock smacking against his thick quads as he moved. He raised his hands in a protective reflex, knowing full well that a beast that had just defeated his 600 pound teammate could easily break his own 180 pound body. “Thanks for the help, man”, Alex said as he reached Aaron, “You’ve shown me his weak spot so I could take him down.” Aaron blinked incredulously and slowly lowered his hands. He stared up at the smiling, massive football player and nodded. Alex turned around and looked at his beaten opponent. “I’ll have to hide him somewhere Tomas can’t find him. If he gets any bigger, I’ll be unable to take him down again”, he said out loud. Aaron heard the beast’s remark and answered: “You could hide him in my room”. “On campus, Tomas can always locate him”, Alex replied automatically, “It has to be someplace far away from here. And not to crowded not to draw attention with our huge bodies”. “How about back south?”, Aaron asked. Alex turned back toward the athletic wrestler with a quizzical look in his eye. “My parents are loaded. I’ve saved a bunch of money from what they give me and my scholarship. If you throw in your savings, we could buy a place over in Florida. Or even in Mexico Somewhere miles away from the nearest town. We could make tons of money if you did cam shows, flexing your huge body”, Aaron said and cautiously placed his hand atop the behemoth’s right bicep, “You could even wrestle Connor live on cam. Make money from the bets”. “I could live that life”, Alex said and flexed his bicep under the wrestler’s touch, “Making money by showing off. How would we get there unnoticed?”. “I own a van. Toss Connor in the back and we’re off”, Aaron answered, his cock squirting cum in his singlet as the 55 inch bicep turned into rock under his grasp. “Let’s go for it”, Alex stated, “We, well I’ll toss Connor in your van and then we’re off. But first I’ve got to make sure I’m able to take on Connor next time we fight”. Aaron looked up inquiringly at the 500 pound football player and nodded as the behemoth explained what he would do. “I’ll take a quick shower first and pack my things. We’ll meet in the parking lot”, Aaron said eagerly.
  25. AlexDrake

    Birthday Boy

    A little story I've already posted on my tumblr. Any and all comments and criticisms are appreciated A million little cameras flash into my face at once. Blinded by the sea of lights, I avert my gaze and look at the cake before me. A novelty cake; big, pink and shaped like a bodybuilder’s arm flexing a biceps. I smile. It’s a cartoon version of the heavily muscled arm around my shoulder, pressing me into a heavily muscled chest belonging to an equally heavily muscled body. Turning my face up, I look at the behemoth holding me. Shane Burke. Teenage bodybuilding sensation and today’s birthday boy. Countless friends and relatives have gathered in his parents’ living room to celebrate nineteen just extinguished candles on that cake – yay! – as well him officially turning pro just last week – double yay! He pulls me closer. Determined to get me into every picture taken of him, he squeezes me into his huge body until my cheek touches one bulging pec. But he doesn’t let go of me. From the corner of my eye I can see him raise his other arm up, moving into one of his famed biceps poses. The crowd keeps flashing away at the star of the day, whooping and cheering his brash demeanor. He shows off his body along with his perfect, instagram-honed grin – toothy, with a streak of cockiness – knowing perfectly how to behave in front of a camera as well as an audience. “Yeah!” he roars, making his body rumble. Obviously, a physique overflowing with testosterone comes with an appropriately deep, growling voice. “More inches in this arm than candles on that cake!” Shane’s solid chest rubs against the side of my face as he effortlessly turns both our bodies first to one, then to the other side of adoring party guests. I laugh, partly because I’m enjoying his firm grip on me, partly because I’m hoping the growing bulge in my pants won’t show on the pictures. The arm around me is heavy and would make me slump under its weight if Shane hadn’t held me upright. Firm, muscular curves are bulging right into my back and neck, twitching and flexing with every little move. Despite having been in the off-season for a week or so, he has retained most of his competition ready cut, looking as sharply defined and ripped as he did on stage. Still, he has the mass to easily fill out an overly large tank top and make it pretty much skin tight. Right next to me is his humongous torso, exuding his extraordinary body heat. With a metabolism constantly in overdrive to feed his enormous muscles, he always feels hot. A few people motion for me to move away from the huge man to get a shot of him on his own – and I would have happily complied, if it hadn’t been for the iron hold he still had on me. “No way,” Shane laughs as I try to slide out of his embrace. “This is just as much Leo’s celebration as it is mine!” No one argues with his booming baritone. With that, I am pulled back in and snuggled even closer by the mammoth bodybuilder. He has a point, though. Obviously, it’s Shane who did the lifting and sweating and lifting and eating and lifting. Shelfs full of trophies, a hundred thousand followers and a youtube channel of him breaking personal best after personal best can easily attest to that. But Shane would never deny he’d be where he is without me. Shane had always been active. Even before he lifted his first dumbbell, he was always doing something. When he wasn’t playing football, he was climbing trees, when he wasn’t wrestling, he was swimming in the lake. We had been bestest of friends, ever since we both needed diapers. He would get me out in the fresh air while my book smarts would rub off on him – hypothetically, at least. When he decided to pick up weight lifting, Shane knew nothing about training routines, nutrition, rest days and the importance of sleep. But because of me, he stuck to all of that from day one. His challenge was to lift the weights, mine was to comb through volumes of bodybuilding literature. He knew what he wanted and he trusted my inner nerd enough that I would make him get it. And his most recent win on the national stage did prove just that. “So no pics without my coach!” the thundering voice next to me laughs and thusly shuts down all protest. We pose for pictures with me locked tightly in his muscular prison for who know how long, before Shane finally moves on to the important business – cutting the cake. Not once does he stop acting up for the crowd. Growling loudly, he holds the knife like a serial killer would, slow motion swings it like a sword or holds up the baked arm to compare it with his actual one – whatever he does, his audience eats it up. I stand by patiently, enjoying the show like everyone else does and definitely a bit more. Moving behind some decoration I hope to hide my surely bulging crotch as I start handing Shane plates off a stack. Slice by slice Shane hands out bits of the cake to his guests until only one is left. Ever the showman, he doesn’t just take it for himself. It it’s a big piece, filling out his large hand as he wraps his long and muscular fingers around it. With a playful roar he tears his mouth as wide open as he can and shoves the whole thing in. The party guests shriek with delight as he smushes a big piece of cake on his face, with only some of it going in between his lips and most of it getting smeared on his cheeks. “Aaah! Ha ha!” Shane laughs from underneath a layer of dough. Once more, camera flashes go off to capture this moment. His lower face is covered in a mask of cream and frosting as he keeps guffawing, spitting bits of cake across the table. The countless little lights only triggers more of the bravado in the teenage behemoth and he throws up his arms in another one of his famous double biceps poses. Shane holds the pose, even as chunks of cake slide down his cheek and drop onto his protruding chest, enjoying the round of people taking, uploading and tagging the pics of the flexing pastry monster. “Alright,” Shane announces, wiping one corner of his mouth with his thumb, “now everybody’s got their cake, let’s head outside!” One thickly muscled arm extends towards the garden door, inviting people to enjoy the the rest of the party in the summer sun. With his free hand he grabs a couple of napkins off a stack. My voice is hushed and directed only at him. “Don’t.” I say. He places the napkins back on the table and continues. “There’s a buffet, drinks, music – knock yourself out, guys!” his voice practically orders. The party clears the living room only very slowly, with every other guest asking Shane for a cake covered selfie. He indulges every single one of them until only he and I are left inside the house. With a smile, and obviously satisfied at having given everybody a good taste of Shane Burke’s on-stage persona, he turns back to me. I look at the towering hunk. His presence alone would be imposing to anybody, even with a beard of sweet dessert running down his face. His broad shoulders are capped off by densely balled deltoids wide enough to make him look twice as wide as me. They morph into long and thick arms, curving with the swelling and billowing masses of flesh packed onto them. Beefy forearms and large paws for hands finish them off. A twin set of massive pecs makes up the vast expanse of his chest. Two plates of muscle, barely contained by his lower cut tank top, extend far left and right, forming a deliciously deep muscle cleavage in the middle. A mouthwatering sight, even without the vanilla-almond flavored garnish they are sporting. There’s an eight pack of perfectly etched out abs underneath that tank top, and a pair of oaken columns of powerful brawn that make up his thighs. Calves with edges you can cut yourself on peek out the bottom of his shorts, not to mention his appropriately overly overly large feet crammed into a pair of sandals. Having finished my visual tour of the teenage Hercules before me I look back up to his face, above mine by almost half a foot. Shane returns my tense stare, his brows longingly pursed, his lips parted and his breathing heavier than before. It takes some effort to tear away my gaze from the hunk, but I do turn and look out the windows. A couple of guests’ heads happily chatting and sipping their drinks are right outside. Some people are hanging out right by the garden door, also with a direct view of the living room. I let out an annoyed grunt. “Kitchen.” It’s my only instruction as I turn and head there with purposeful strides. I don’t need to check if he’s coming along. Even if I didn’t hear his footsteps stomping behind me, it is without a doubt he’s following suit. I know the Burke kitchen all too well, having spent years and years preparing chicken and tuna with Shane. A quick look confirms the privacy we need. With the guests all in the back yard, the side window with opaque curtains going halfway up the window is just perfect. Turning around I watch as Shane arrives, his wide shoulders just about fitting through the doorway. He stops a few feet before me, looking majestic despite being covered in cake. I barely need to look as I reach over and rip off a couple of paper towels and approach the beast. I stop less than a foot before the mega man, looking up at him as he looks down on me. My face is relaxed, just business, with my closed lips bulging as my tongue runs along my teeth underneath them. Shane on the other hand is barely keeping it in. His mouth is open, breathing quickly and heavily, making his thick chest heave up and down, in and out. Out of the corner of my eyes I see his hands fidgeting, his fingers awkwardly clenching his fists. The brawn on his arms bulges accordingly, with forearm and biceps tensing and swelling randomly. Despite my efforts, a smile escapes my lips. Aw, poor boy. So eager. With a deep breath I loosen my features, not giving him any more clues of my own excitement. My brows even furrow slightly and I press my lips together. I reach up, way up, to Shane’s face and begin toweling off his cheek. He flinches as my clothed hand glides over his face. He tries hard to control himself, but I can hear his breathing pick up and see his neck bulge with every one of his gulps. I take my time, thoroughly wiping him clean on one side before repeating the move on the other. Turning my head down from his wistful expression I am face to face with the deep cleavage of his cake blotched pecs. Most of it had landed on his well tanned skin, sticking like I would to the well developed chest bulging underneath his liberally cut tank top. But some got on the fabric itself – on the halter and where the material wrapped around his plentiful muscle bosom. I lick my lips and it’s not because of the vanilla scent. I begin leaning forward, keeping my eyes fixed on a somewhat big patch of cake. The muscle man before me freezes with a sharp, audible intake of air. As if petrified, Shane stops moving or even breathing as I slowly, very slowly approach his body. The first thing my puckered lips feel is the soft, spongy dessert I am determined to clean off my way. Opening my mouth just enough to let in the sweet dough I taste the sugar and keep moving forward until I make contact with Shane’s tank. A quake goes through the massive pec I am touching through the fabric. One involuntary flex and the muscle jumps up and out, pushing against my lips for a split second. I smile, knowing the big man can’t help himself as it relaxes just as quickly as it tensed. Extending my tongue I lift the bite of cake off of Shane and into my mouth. I make sure to thoroughly graze the soft fabric, warm from the enveloped muscles’ natural heat. Another lick, more of a probe this one, and I can feel the solidity of the birthday boy’s relaxed brawn easily resist my tongue’s playful attempt at indenting it. Another groan is heard from half a foot above me, but I don’t care. I pull back, just an inch, and swallow. The cake is good, I’ll definitely have some more of that later. And right now, actually. Almost instantly, I move my head forward again, and aim my mouth towards that humongous chest again. It takes all my willpower and my considerable experience to refrain from consuming the slabs of muscle with just a few licks and kisses. I growl lightly. It’s hard, but I know the payoff later will be worth it. The skin is warm, hot even as I place my mouth around the next bit of cake. This time, no fabric, no tank top or anything will come between me and the mound of muscle before me. My lips are lubricated by my spit and the slightest and faintest layer of manly sweat that’s been gathering on Shane. With ease they glide over the hard area, closing around on that piece of dough I’ve zeroed in on. A satisfied moan that comes from eating some delicious dessert is heard as I take in the bite of smeared dough. Pulling away once more, I see the now clean but glistening spot my saliva has left. Inspired, I stick out my tongue lean forward. With a bit of a theatrical “gaaah” I let it run over several inches of pec expanse. I move my head from the middle of one enormous plate of muscle over the deep, rippled gorge in the middle, over to the other enormous plate of muscle. All the while my still extended tongue works as a fleshy brush, painting the canvas of solid brawn with the shiny lacquer of my saliva. “Ngh.” comes another moan. A repressed but lusty one. I don’t respond. Instead, I place little loving pecks on random spots on Shane’s chest. Taking my time, I move all over his bulging, masculine bosom. Meanwhile, I raise up my hands and place them on his thickly muscled arms. First the left palm, then the right, then I wrap my fingers around the rotund masses of flesh. They barely encompass his biceps, which in this elongated state still balloon enormously. Even without squeezing, even in their relaxed state they do not deserve the attribute “soft”. Without letting go of Shane’s muscular limbs I move back, and look up. His eyes are closed tight and he is biting his lower lip, trying hard to hold himself together. Short bursts of air come out of his nose, making his nostrils flare. It only takes a few moments of my lips breaking contact with Shane’s skin, before his whole expression changes. His brows furrow quizzically, wondering where my worshipping mouth went. “Why did it stop?” is written on his face. Mouth open, he is gasping more than inhaling. It is difficult, but I resist looking at the hefty chest before me, heaving and swelling with his desperate breathing. Once more, I feel a tingle as the big man is racked by me choosing to deprive him of pleasure. It’s cute teasing for me, it’s torture for him. His eyes open, fluttering around the room for a second before reorienting and landing on my face. He is wheezing. His lips momentarily close around the tip of his tongue before spreading again, hanging open. “Please –” he begins, his voice pleading. “Quiet.” Well-behaved as he is, he obeys but keeps gaping at me with an expression of hunger. My eyes narrow and I press my lips together. Putting on a steadfast exterior, I return the much larger man’s stare. It doesn’t help that he slowly, deliberately breaks eye contact to look down. I follow his gaze and take in the result of my teasing. Sure enough, in between his bulging thighs, I see a definite bulge protruding from his shorts. I smile, knowing that I caused this. With a decidedly satisfied grin I look back up and into Shane’s eyes. Neither of us saying or doing anything is killing him. I know what he wants. I want the same thing but he’s going to have to earn it. He swallows and takes one calming breath that doesn’t help much. “Sir, –” he tries anew but is immediately silenced. The impact of my palm on his cheek is audible. A sound like a loud clap rings through the kitchen, definitely not followed by any more of his voice. In their relaxed state, Shane’s traps and neck muscles are still firm enough to easily resist the – to him – small force of my slap. It probably hurt me more than him. My hand only somewhat stings from the contact with his lean face but the effect on him is a great one. “Shut up, boy.” When he looks back at me my face is stern again. He does not dare speak another word but his breathing is even heavier than before. Panting and only barely keeping himself from taking care of his situation without my permission. Which, by the by, has grown even larger, forming a distinctly visible outline of his thick, elongated shaft growing on the side of his pelvis. He lets out moans of exertion – and lust, obviously – trying to will his erection to go down. My evil grin from earlier returns as I instinctively lick my lips. The faint taste of sweat and sugar is still there while I step forward and as close to Shane as I can. Closing my eyes I stand on my tiptoes and guide my head towards his face. Touching my lips to his is immediately followed by his mouth devouring mine. I know the small peck I intended was never likely. Despite his comparatively unlimited strength Shane is still just a little weak boy, instantly giving in to every little craving. Give him an inch and he will take a mile. I can easily attest to that, feeling the mighty bodybuilder before me eagerly opening his mouth to welcome my tongue. I shove it in in one go, immediately beginning to swirl around his. He reciprocates by trying to touch, massage, rub mine whichever way he can. Not a moment passes before his low, gruff voice sounds out in uncontrolled moans, seemingly groaning directly into my ears. With my hands back on his upper arms, I enjoy his tensing and flexing musculature reacting wildly to this little bit of stimulation. I don’t need to check, I know his eyes are already closed, completely giving in to the moment. A quick grind of my crotch against him confirms he is harder and bigger than just a moment ago. His head moves a few inches forwards as I pull mine back. Opening his eyes he wordlessly asks why I am already stopping – and fears it is something he has done wrong. I step back. One index finger and a thumb trace my lower lip, rubbing there remains of his saliva in. I take in the mammoth man and his pulsating body of perfectly overdeveloped teenage muscle. Everything from his large feet, oaken legs, crowbar cock, solid torso to his thick arms stood in stark contrast with the begging expression on his face. If he dared to speak after a slap from me, he would implore me to go upstairs to his room and help relieve his probably painful erection. But as I said, he’ll have to earn it. Taking a deep, deep breath, I take my time inhaling while formulating my next order. There’s a whole garden of guests out there expecting to see the bodybuilding celebrity. The cockiness, the funny faces, they yelling and impromptu strength feats. The showman. The entertainer. Not the sub who would be begging me to suck my cock if I as much as looked down at my own erection. Time to bring him back. “So.” I speak. Shane stands straight automatically. Puffing out his chest and extending his arms down his sides, he is eager to signal he is listening intently. “You’re gonna go outside now. And show the people out there the Shane Burke they want to see. You understand?” Shane nods. He nods and keeps nodding, looking into my eyes. I know he understands. His lips start curling into a smile. “Yeah,” he replies softly. Another nod. “Yeah,” he repeats, with more force behind his voice. That deep growl has returned. His head keeps bobbing up and down as his eyes light up. He bites his lips then furrows his brows as if angry – but with a wicked grin now emblazed on his face. “Yeah!” he grunts and raises his hands. Both index fingers are stretched out as he points them at the ceiling and at me. His arms flex and his mouth opens, showing me his teeth in what could be described as a snarl. “Fuck, yeah!” he calls out, much louder than necessary in the small space. One hand clenches while the other opens up. With a loud slapping sound, he punches his own palm and wraps his fingers around his fist, all the while grunting and hissing. He turns and heads through the door. I hear him roaring things like “Whoo!” and “Yeah!” as I am left on my own in the kitchen. With a chuckle, I lean against the closest counter. Then I exhale loudly and for what feels like a good minute. My chest keeps physically rising and sinking as I breathe, heavily. I am panting, barely in control of myself. Without thinking, I grab my engorged cock, hard in the confines of my pants. It has become somewhat painful some time ago but I didn’t want to adjust it in front of him. Wriggling both one leg and the hand gripping my erection, I try to put it into a fairly comfortable as well as presentable position. The sounds of “Ooh!” and “Aah!” coming from the garden call me out. For one, I surely do not want to miss any of Shane’s cocky antics. But also I feel my duty of going out there and firing up my little guy some more. I smile. Time to turn Shane up to eleven.