Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'orientation-gay'.



More search options

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • General
    • News
    • Problems and Suggestions
    • Introductions
    • General Discussion
  • Written Works
    • Stories
    • Role Playing
    • Continuous Stories
    • Unfinished Stories
    • Fantasies and Story Ideas
    • Chat & Role-Playing Transcripts
    • Real-Life Muscle Growth Experiences
  • MG.com's Storiversary
    • General
    • 3rd Annual Storiversary
    • Storiversary Story Archive
  • Media
    • General Images
    • Artwork & Morphs
    • Artists Showcase
    • Videos
    • Before & After Transformations
  • Community
    • Personals
    • Chat Buddies
    • Surveys & Polls
    • Advertisements
  • Bodybuilding
    • General
    • Training
    • Muscle & Mind
    • Diet & Nutrition
    • Steroids
    • Watch Me Grow
  • Off Topic
    • Main Off Topic Board
    • News & Current Events
    • Weird / Funny / Interesting
  • Hyper and Impossibly Big Muscle!'s Welcome!
  • Hyper and Impossibly Big Muscle!'s Gallery
  • DC Area Muscle's Discussion
  • Tall Muscle's Discussion & Advice
  • Furry Muscle Club's Club Chat
  • Spanish-speaking members!'s Culturistas buscando sponsor
  • Spanish-speaking members!'s Presentaciones
  • Spanish-speaking members!'s Sponsor buscando culturistas
  • Superstrength and Crushing's Your favorite Superstrength & Crushing Stories
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Dumbing You
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Meathead Make-Believe
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Dumb Stud Pictures
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Mutual Muscling
  • South East Asia Muscle Club's Muscle Tales
  • 2D Muscle Artists's Topics
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Bodybuilding Websites
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Top Tips, Articles and Guides
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Video Clips
  • Second Life's GYMS
  • Second Life's Topics
  • New York City Muscle's Member Intro
  • New York City Muscle's Personals
  • Rochester NY Area Lifters's Topics

Calendars

There are no results to display.

There are no results to display.

Blogs

There are no results to display.

There are no results to display.


Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


AIM


MSN


Website URL


ICQ


Yahoo


Jabber


Skype


Location


What are your interests?


What are your stats?


What are you seeking?


What are your dream stats?


Favorite Stories


Favorite Bodybuilders


Got Any Fetishes?

Found 185 results

  1. So, this is my very first story. Thought I'd crack one out, while I'm waiting for my new job to start. Strangely it's more cock growth orientated than muscle growth, as muscle-growth was my original fetish. But there is muscle growth, and should it be worth continuing, there will be plenty more! So, please give constructive criticism and/or praise. Mainly praise. Basically just tell me it's awesome. But honestly, any feedback is appreciated, and should I have enough interest and then time, I may try to continue it. Title may be confusing: grUV - pronounced "groovy". Short for growth: ultra-violet. Which is a teaser for the basis of the growth. But enough waffle, here is: Chapter 1 Wow. What a night. I awoke with a slow grogginess that so often accompanies a night out clubbing down the bay with Dave. Thankfully we don’t have far to walk back, as he has a boat out in the harbour, docked out at sea. Nevertheless, the fact you have to use one of the numerous row boats to row out to it is always hilarious, especially when you’re as drunk as we were. “Ok?” What. I stared blankly, my eyes trying to focus, and take in what had awoken me. “I said, I’m rowing back into harbour to get some food for us all from town.” “Us all?” I croaked back. “Yeah, you, me and Brad.” “Brad?” “That guy I tried to introduce you to at the club. I’ve always said he can crash on the boat if he doesn’t feel like getting the last train back to his place. Looks like he took me up on my offer again, and rowed himself over at some point last night.” Dave explained. I had a vague memory of the cabin door banging open, and waking me in the middle of the night, and seeing a silhouette of a man, as he flopped onto some cushioning on the other side. I couldn’t remember meeting anyone specific at the club, we talked to a lot of people, and all I saw last night was a biggish shadow fall onto the bed near me, I couldn’t make out any discernible features. Nevertheless, I was in no mood to push for details, so simply responded with, “Cool”. “Yeah. He’s already up and gone for a swim. Maniac. Anyway, I’ll be quick as I can, but be nice. You were definitely too out of it to properly get to know him last night.” With that Dave went to the stern and hopped overboard into one of the two rowboats tied to his boat. I lay a while longer, grabbed a bottle of water, did a few stretches, and after a few minutes, felt well enough to venture out of the cabin and into the summer sun. I was just wearing underwear and shorts from last night, so I felt the heat of the sun immediately on my body. It was nice, but blinding. When my eyes adjusted, I looked out to the water, and caught sight of what must’ve been Brad swimming pretty fast back and forth. I took a seat at the starboard side of the bow, so I could face out to sea and watch him. After a few minutes he paused, and looked over to the boat. I gave a very unenergetic wave, but he responded, and began to make his way over to the boat. He heaved himself up onto the boat and for the first time I got a good look at him. The size of the shadow I glimpsed last night did not do him justice. The water trailed off his traps as his torso rose ever higher as he hauled himself up. He gripped the railings harder and pushed himself up, two triceps exploding to life as he did. He then swung a massive leg over the railing, and it landed with a heavy splash on the decking. He flashed me a smile as he began pulling himself to his full height. He had short dark hair which flowed beautifully into full stubble that lined his masculine jaw. His skin was a glowing olive, all of which offset a pair of blue eyes that sparkled like the sea that was still dripping off him. I watched a drop slowly begin descending from his neck. It travelled down the valley between two meaty pecs, and I continued to follow it as it meandered between his six abs. As it fell further, my eyes landed on his crotch. He was wearing just a red speedo. It was dark but shiny from having just been in the water. It looked a size too big for him, being quite wrinkly rather than hanging tightly on him. I assumed he was a bit of a modest fellow who didn’t want to draw attention, or maybe he lost weight recently. But I couldn’t dwell on my thoughts much longer, as he was standing fully upright now, had turned to face me, and said “Hey Stranger, the name’s Brad!”. I introduced myself and gestured for him to sit down just across from me on the other side of the bow. This gave me a great view of him as he sat down opposite me. He leant back against the railing, lying at almost 45˚, exposing his muscular torso to the sun. He brought up his left leg onto the cushioning and leaned his left elbow on it as he supported his head, commenting on how he was still feeling the effects of last night’s drinks. His bicep flexed and bounced up and down as he rubbed his head. His arms were huge, certainly the biggest I had seen up this close, I reckoned at least 18 inches. I empathised with his hangover, and we spoke about what we did remember from last night. He was quite a talker, but I was happy to listen. His pecs heaved when he laughed about the antics he got up to. The drips highlighted how defined and cut he was. I felt I was staring for ages. It must’ve been a while, because the sea water was beginning to dry, and left his body literally glinting in the sun. His speedos were also beginning to look lighter in colour, and I noticed also less loose. This caught my attention, but I wanted to be subtle. I kept directing open questions to him, and only answering with a yes or no to him, so he was soon lost in his stories again. I stole glances down every time he looked away, or closed his eyes to try and remember details of his night. I was right, his cock was definitely growing down there. The wrinkles of the suit began to disappear as a bulge began to form at his crotch. I could begin to see the shape of his dick as it slowly lengthened and filled the speedo out more. It also looked like his balls were expanding too, as the material of lower part also straightened out. As he rambled on, he continued to get bigger down there. His cock was lengthening and thickening; but now with the suit clinging relatively tightly to his new size, the material stopped any further advancement forward. I swear I could see the bulge kink and bend round as it still tried to thicken. This is when it suddenly dawned on me that he wasn’t getting hard. I theorised his genitals must have shrunk down a lot from his swim in the cold morning water. And now he was just warming up to his natural impressive size. However, the misshapen slowly growing bulge looked uncomfortable; and it must’ve been, as while he was still talking, he very nonchalantly pulled the waistband away from his body and bucked his hips. His cock lurched forward and down as it unfolded and grew into the new available space. As he let the speedo snap back onto his body, it now hugged a very impressive round sexy bulge, perfectly filling the perfectly-sized tight red suit. I figured he must be a healthy 5 to 6 inches soft, and pretty thick. Which was quite a pleasant unexpected growth from the initial practically non-existent bulge from his chilly willy I first saw. I was sure this was the case; nevertheless, I decided to test my theory. “How was the water?” I interjected when he finally wrapped up his current saga. “Not gonna lie mate, it was pretty nippy. Sun’s barely had time to warm it at all. Although an ice-cold blast does wonders for the hangover.” He replied. Well the sun had had time to dry him up nicely, and was now reflecting off the salt crystals peppering his chiselled torso. He was a sight to behold, and now that his crotch had stopped growing, I was finally appreciating the rest of him. And there were a lot of bulges to appreciate as they rippled from time to time soaking up the sun. “Why, you thinking of going for a dip?” He said as he stood up to get a bottle of water from the cooler Dave had on board. I watched as he rose to his 6’2” height. Turning sideways to walk across in front of me, I saw his big ass and quads tighten and marvelled as the big red bulge jiggled as he stepped. In profile it was clear just how sexily prominent his bulge was, its heft tugging on the material, showing it was in control, not the other way around. As he spun round to return to his seating position, again with one leg up, giving the bulge breathing space, I finally responded, “Perhaps I will in a bit. As you say, it might help with the headache”. “You a strong swimmer?” He continued. “Yeah, actually, in fact I was captain of my school’s swim team.” I said. “No way! Me too! Well when it wasn’t rugby season.” He replied. We began to converse about our various sporting endeavours at school. The conversation being much more two-way now that I wasn’t trying to ogle him. That being said, after several minutes, I did steal a glance down again. Seeing as he was almost displaying his bulge in that open position, it might seem weird if I keep avoiding it. My eyes quickly flicked back up to his, as I responded to his latest inquiry about which athletic events I preferred. My mouth ran off some generic answers, as my brain was pondering once again whether his speedo package was looking larger than before. I began stealing more regular glances. It was hard to tell. But when he went for a swig of water, tilting his head back, I decided to grab a longer look. I watched, it was hard to discern, but I swear I watched the whole round bulge slowly push the speedo further out as it enlarged. His head came back down, and I made sure to meet his gaze as he let out a refreshing sigh. Now, that I was curious again, I resorted to my initial tactic of getting him monologuing, so I could keep tabs on what appeared to be an ever-growing package. As he answered my barrage of questions, I was able to keep peaking down at his red speedo. I couldn’t stare long enough to visibly see any growth in action, but evidence came in another form. I started to note that wrinkles were beginning to reappear in the suit. Whereas before, the wrinkles suggested a speedo too large for him, these taut lines represented quite the opposite. Initially it was just two. Two lines stretching from each side of the suit to the middle, fading as they reached the flesh-filled pouch. However, with each glance, more wrinkle lines would appear. Four. Six. As the round bulge swelled bigger and pushed forward they continued to appear. Eight. Ten. Twelve! Again, as I was only glancing briefly, I could not see the growth, but on my most recent peek, I clocked that his bulge was almost in line with the end of the cushion now. There were soon too many wrinkles to count, and I noted that there didn’t seem to be any more room for more to form. Additionally, more of his legs were being exposed at the sides, as all the material was being pulled forward by the expanding bulge. He certainly seemed oblivious to all this going on, still chatting away about how much harder it is to play team sports outside of education. I didn’t know how much longer he couldn’t notice for though, the speedo seemed stretched to the limit. Then I heard it. It was hard to make out, as big Brad was still nattering on, but I heard what sounded like finger being dragged along the surface of an inflated balloon. I knew it must have been the fabric of the speedo straining after even more growth from his monstrous package. My theory was confirmed when my next cheeky glance down revealed that a space had been created above his muscular thighs where the material was now lifting away, pulled by what had to be about 9 inches of thick cock. I returned my attention back to Brad, had he not heard it? Apparently not, as he was still mid-sentence and continuing on like nothing happened. However, a few seconds later, I heard it again; and more prominently, as it fell between two words Brad was uttering. Brad continued speaking, but I saw a flash of shock appear in his eyes, and while talking he finally brought his leg down, and leant forward, trying to obscure my view of his bigger bulge. It worked briefly, my attention was now on his hefty pecs, making a muscular cleavage in this new hunched position, but I looked down again, and could still make out the bulge, which was now in line with end of the cushion on which he sat. Brad’s sudden fear and shift in posture must have meant he was aware of what was happening. I looked back into his eyes, waiting to see if he was going to acknowledge this weird occurrence. But he continued his story, finally finishing with a question to me. “Umm,” I murmured, then paused while I tried to actually think of what he had just asked me. But in that silence, the sound of the speedo stretching happened again. With no voice to mask it, it was clear, to us both, what had just happened. I looked to him, and we shared an intense eye contact, still in silence, still gazing into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, a huge, loud and long, fabric-wrenching sound was emitted from his crotch as the speedo strained ever further. I couldn’t help but stare down, as I was now able to clearly see the dreamy round bulge surge forth and begin to overhang the seat. It was growing so big, stretching the speedo, making it paler in colour. “Umm,” I began again, “Are you okay?” I naively asked. Brad slowly and simply leant back against the railings, and spread his legs, allowing me a full unobstructed view of his almighty size. He then grew again. I was unabashedly ogling his growing crotch. The sight, coupled with the sound of the fabric slowly losing its fight to his beastly dick, was such a turn on. “Yeah, I’m very okay.” He replied, almost laughing “You okay?”. I leant back too, “Yeah, maybe too okay!” I joked as my new posture revealed my tenting shorts. Brad laughed. “I wish I had known you were gay, I wouldn’t have been holding back otherwise!” His words were followed by three short bursts of rubbery stretching sounds as the tip of his bulge juddered bit by bit closer to the ground. “Holding back?” I questioned, “Wait, you’re not getting hard right now?” Brad laughed again. “Does this look hard to you?” He said cupping his giant package with his right hand. The round shape and way the bulge moved as its huge size overflowed his hand told me he was indeed still soft. “N.. No.” I stammered, “Bu…but, how?”. “Well, I’m guessing Dave’s suncream isn’t as water resistant as it claimed.” I stared blankly. Brad continued to explain further. “It seems when my body soaks up the sun and makes vitamin D, well, it really makes vitamin D.” His emphasis on the ‘D’ was complimented by another audible strain from his speedo, as his cock probably entered double figures in length. “Basically, when UV light hits my skin, it seems to make another hormone, as well as vitamin D, that goes to my dick and starts to make it grow. My balls too. The more light, the stronger the sun, the more skin exposed, the faster it happens. So, on a summery day like today, when I’m wearing only this, and haven’t got any protection on, well…” He trailed off, gesturing towards the now pinkish tight speedo barely containing an ever growing mass of meat. It grew again, this time the straining noise sounded a little different, almost as though a few of the fabric’s threads were beginning to snap. The change in tone made the tent in my lap bob a little higher. Brad smirked as he saw my cock trying to grow like his, but failing. He adjusted his position, rocking his hips slightly, and I gazed in awe, as the huge soft bulge continued to jiggle for a couple of seconds, which then reminded me, “Wait, you said you were holding back? …What did you mean by that?” “Yeah, you’re cute. I was trying to not get turned on. But seeing as you like…” He paused, and I heard a similar sound to the one just before, as I saw his cock jump a little, “perhaps I should stop resisting”. Suddenly a big straining sound was emitted, accompanied by some definite tearing sounds, as I saw a hardening cock shape surge forth. I could make out the outline of what was cock and what was balls now. Both hugely impressive sizes. Brad grunted and bucked his hips, and I could see the difference the erection was making to his genital growth. His cock was growing far faster than his balls as he got harder. The thick rod was pressed up against the ever-thinning material, so tight that I could make out the patterns of the veins on his dick. Especially as they continued to grow from both his arousal and his unique UV-absorbing condition. Brad moaned as another bout of rubbery straining and ripping sounds emanated from his crotch as the cock tried to lift away from his body as he got even harder. It was beginning to throb, and each pulse was accompanied by a ripping sound. I watched in lustful amazement as I saw holes beginning to appear in the speedo to the left and right of this mountainous bulge. Numerous ripping sounds continued as those strained wrinkle lines tore open into holes, allowing the speedo more slack. But it still wasn’t enough, as Brad’s cock quickly grew to fill the extra room. He was getting so big and hard, it looked around 14”. I could see most of it, as the base was exposed as his cockhead had pulled the waistband well away, and the speedo was more holes than material now. It was throbbing fast, and seemed to struggle to make that final growth it needed to burst free. Brad put both hands on the railings behind him, closed his eyes, leaned his head overboard, and then thrust. I watched as the base of his cock thickened substantially, the swelling then spread in a wave up his shaft, finally reaching his tip, which thickened too, adding that little bit of length so that a huge pop was heard as the speedo disintegrated into shreds, and a huge thick cock slapped up against his quivering abs. Brad was breathing fast, and I was dripping pre, having watched that sexy spectacle. But it wasn’t over. In fact, I guess even more skin was exposed now to the sunlight, which would only increase his growth. His cock pointed straight up and was thick and rigid, now at full mast. But as I suspected the growth continued. I watched as his two apple-sized balls seemed to fill, his cock was nudging up a little higher with each throb, hard to notice, but I could see. And very soon it drew Brad’s attention as the head dug into his pec shelf. He opened his eyes and looked down. Acknowledging the problem, he sank back down onto the cushion, and grabbed his shaft with his left hand pulled it away from his body. Fuck he was thick, his grasp not even close to encircling his cock. He then looked towards me, and pointed his cockhead in my direction and asked, “Want a taste?”. I didn’t even answer but simply moved across to him, took his monster in both my hands and pulled his cockhead into my mouth. It was a tight fit, but incredibly arousing. I slowly pulled my lips back off it, wetting the entirety of the head. I then used my tongue to lick all over his slit and glans, while my hands worked up and down what felt like a telegraph pole. I then eased the head back into my mouth, and began rhythmically bobbing my head up and down. I could feel him sliding past on all sides of my mouth as his fat head pounded the back of my throat. God, he was filling up all the space in my mouth. I then remembered he must still be growing, despite me shading part of his body. I decided to pause and hold everything in place, just so I could feel this miracle. At first, I couldn’t sense any growth. But I moved my hands together so they formed a ring around his shaft, and soon I noticed how his cock was slowly expanding, as my interlocking fingers were being pulled apart by this growing man meat. I then realised that his cockhead was now at the back of my throat, not because I had gone further down on him, but because he had grown another 2 inches in length. I noticed he was getting much thicker too, as my fingertips finally parted. His cockhead was no exception and was pushing against all sides of my mouth, allowing no passage of air. This realisation was such a turn on I almost came right there and then. But the need to breathe triumphed, and I jolted my head back, gasping, while pulling his mammoth junk from my mouth. “Well, well.” Said Brad, “Looks like you are enjoying. Perhaps we should move into the cabin before I become just too fucking big!” And with a smug grin, his cock grew up to halfway up his chest. Brad grabbed it, and began angling it down. “Open wide!” I looked at him confused and scared. How could he think that thing was going to fit in my mouth again after it just nearly choked me? “Your legs, silly!” He explained as he squatted down and slid his 18” dick under my groin. He slowly rose, pausing as he began to take my weight on his thick cock. I saw his quads bulge with dense striated muscle. After all this focus on his growing dick, I had forgotten just how hot and muscular he was. His thighs pumped up and his abs tensed, and he slowly stood up with me supported on his cock, balancing with my hands on his bulging shoulders. I could feel another dark spot of pre leaking onto my tented shorts, this was just so hot; but thankfully Brad wouldn’t have been able to see underneath his big pecs. Standing tall, Brad’s body was now fully bathed in sunlight. As he began marching me atop his junk, towards the cabin, I felt the rate of his cock growth increase, as the log supporting me thickened and rapidly lengthened, splaying my legs further apart. I let go of one of his shoulders, and felt the cock behind me as it grew to 20” and then 22”, each pulse lifting me higher as it gained more strength to take my weight. We made it to the cabin, and everything stopped. Out of the direct sunlight, and so the UV, Brad’s cock finally stopped growing. “Well,” he said, “I’m yours.” I stared into his handsome face, and again saw a smug grin come over his face. He throbbed his mammoth beast, and the rising cock angle made me slide down so that I faceplanted into his chest and stabbed him in the abs with my own boner. “Ooof,” He reacted, “That’s quite the weapon you’ve got there yourself. How about you free him from his prison.” I felt the same way, so swung my left leg over his huge cock and dropped to the floor. As I did so, his cock, now unburdened, swung up and the tip was level with the base of his neck. Having quickly whipped off my shorts and underwear before Brad saw the pre stains, I spun round to take in the view of him again. Gigantic. Everything. Pure masculinity. I had to service him. I grabbed the hand nearest to me, and began feeling and licking all the way up his arms; my tongue and fingers caressing every groove between the thick cords of muscle. On reaching his shoulder, I turned to face him, and had to stretch to touch each shoulder with each hand. His cockhead was level with my face, and was almost touching my nose as his broad chest pushed it out. I tried to ignore it for now, instead sliding both arms down to his biceps. He responded naturally, and raised both arms into a double bicep flex. Big boulders erupted forth, they split my fingers apart, and I tried to dig in, but the meat was just solid strength. I let my hands wander down to his pecs, and like clockwork, Brad started bouncing them, and my cock bounced in unison, tickling his balls in the process. I looked down and saw them. They were like two soft bowling balls, dangling down, halfway to his knees. I was so intrigued, I started fondling them, not noticing Brad begin to moan. I bent down and began to lick all around them, supporting their hefty weight in my hands, and watching as they overflowed from one of my palms to the other. As I licked them from bottom to top, I let my tongue run onto the base of Brad’s dick. He let out a louder deep moan, causing me to look up. I noticed now that his nipples had become sensitised, having thickened up, and were standing out a good half inch from his meaty pecs. I couldn’t resist, I jumped on his right one with my mouth, and began teasing and sucking at it, while ran my hands over his cobblestone abs, still trying to ignore the throbbing pillar next to my cheek. Brad moans only grew louder, he was loving this, and as I switched across to his left nipple, I saw a bead of pre run down his mighty shaft. While nibbling on his left nipple, I decided to reach across with my left hand and play with his right nipple simultaneously. In doing so, my arm was pressed against his 22” cock, and I could feel each throb, and just sense the power in it as it constantly vibrated with pure sexual energy. I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I left both hands twiddling at his teats, but began using my mouth to wet the beast before me. Round and round, up and down I went with my tongue, soaking his member, and causing Brad to start egging me on. When I was confident I had lubricated most of his shaft, I released his nipples and grabbed his cock with both hands, and began pumping his cannon. While continuing to wank him, I pulled the head towards me, at this angle, it was level with my mouth, and although too thick to fully fit in, I did my best to massage the glans with my lips. This was clearly appreciated by Brad, who began moaning and bucking. It was getting so hot, I had to pleasure myself too. One hand on my cock, the other on the largest one on the planet, while my mouth continued to suck its head. I accelerated the pace more and more, and more, until I realised I was close to cumming. “Fuck, I gotta stop!” I panted. “No worries,” Brad replied, “You certainly got me going good!” As I began to regain some composure, a thought suddenly crossed my mind. “OK, I gotta question… if it’s sunlight which makes… this… happen, then how come you don’t already have a cock as long as a road?” “Well, the effects wear off after I cum. I guess all the energy is stored as cum, and having it kept there causes my junk to grow. But once its released, everything returns to its previous state.” I must’ve flashed a look of slight disappointment, as Brad quickly continued, “But I never used to be this muscular, or have an almost 6 inch soft cock. Or even this tall. But a man gets curious; and I tried my own come once, and noticed it led to some permanent gains.” He said as he flexed a bicep up to my face. I grab my dick and slowly start stroking in response. “If you carry on as you did before, you might get a treat”. The idea that I could possibly grow larger, seemingly everywhere, was such a turn on that I was once again close to the brink of orgasm, and a large globule of pre emerged from my slit and ran down my quivering cock. Brad noted this and decisively spoke up, “Actually, I think you’ll like to watch this.” He walked over to the cabin door and stood in its entrance. I was wondering what he was doing, but then as I caught sight of the back of his hefty ballsack dropping down further towards his knees, I realised he was growing himself in the sun again. He was there for not even a minute, and then he spun round. Over 2 feet of thick meaty cock was advancing towards me, the tip bouncing around, now level with Brad’s luscious lips. He stopped inches from me. Bent his head a little down, and pulled his bloated cockhead into his mouth as much as he could. His lips moistened the slit as he used his bulging arms to forcefully pump the column before me. Brad began to moan as his actions became faster and stronger. I had subconsciously began wanking myself too. Brad’s eyes shut, and I could swear he was moaning ‘Fuck’ although his mouth was gagged by a head the size of a rugby ball. He let out one massive but muffled moan, and his stroking suddenly ceased. I looked down and saw his balls heave, and then watched his cock jerk as a torrent of cum ran up inside it and gushed into Brad’s mouth. The instant he began swallowing, I noticed him changing. I took a step back and watched as his whole body seemed to scale-up larger, keeping everything in proportion as he inched up, reaching now what must’ve been a towering 6’3”. He released his cock from his mouth, the spurts having finally ended, and I watched it lengthen an inch or two by itself so that the tip bumped against the bridge of his nose. I was on the edge, pumping like a maniac. Brad opened his eyes, saw me, and immediately placed his hands on his hips. And within an instant I saw his pecs puff out massively, expanding in size, weight and strength. His abs all swelled, fighting for space, and as he lifted his arms up and flexed, I saw his biceps grow larger and larger than before. His muscles were surging with much more energy than the rest of him, and that was my weakness. As his guns grew past the 20” mark, I blew my load and splattered his ripped torso, as his growth finally began to subside. We were both left standing there, catching our breath. I apologised for spraying Brad, and he laughed it off, grabbing a towel. I watched as he wiped my cum off him, and noticed his balls were back to normal, well maybe a slightly bigger size, but I had no reference point. His cock on the other hand was still looming towards me at an inflated size. However, I watched as it both began to soften and shrink, arcing down in the process. Brad cast the towel aside, and looked down at himself from his new height. After what I had just witnessed, his flaccid cock looked a sorry sight. But after glancing back at my own, and then back at Brad’s, I realised he must be 7 inches soft now! Plus Brad certainly didn’t seem unimpressed. “Fuck! Look at me, I’m massive!” He bellowed, as he struck pose after pose. It was true, his muscles had significantly grown. Dave might not pick up on the extra inch in height or cock, but Brad’s bodybuilder stature biceps and pecs were bound to give the game away. I wonder if Dave knows about this? “Damn,” continued Brad as he cupped his enormous left pec in his right hand, “This is incredible! …but we best get covered up before Dave comes back with the food.” I began redressing. Luckily the hot weather would dry my shorts out pretty quick from any embarrassing stains. I watched Brad rummage around the cabin until he found a pair of metallic blue speedos. He struggled to pull them up over his bigger legs. “Wow, I can’t believe how much my calves have grown. …Makes …this uuh..h. a bit difficult though, ..my quads too…” He wriggled about, his meaty muscles tensing and untensing in the process. They were just so big and defined now, I had never seen anything like it. Fuck I was getting aroused again. Brad eventually got the speedos on and over his genitals. They were super tight. And they made such a big beautiful blue bulge. It was shiny and massive, and I can’t believe I ever thought it looked small. Even framed by large cobbled abs and big quads, its size was unmistakeable. His thick 7 inch soft cock and balls already strained the material into a mouth-watering, big, round, shiny bulge. I couldn’t help but start boning up again. It looked so good. Brad caught sight of this, “Calm down now, Dave will be back any second.” I nodded, a bit disappointed and dropped my head. But instantly sprang it back up when I heard the now familiar sound of speedo fibres stretching. Brad was blushing, his arousal given away, and a glance at his package revealed some new taut wrinkles and a bit of delineation showing the outline of his chubbing cock. “No really,” Brad interrupted, resisting the moment, “let’s have you rub some suncream on my new muscles before I ruin another decent pair of speedos!”.
  2. Pardon the tags... what I've written so far is mostly set up at the moment. I'd like to get some constructive feedback before I continue. Please refrain from calling out my punctuation mistakes. Otherwise let me know if I should continue. I understand that so far this plot has been done like a million different times...but honestly nowadays what plot hasn't? Hopefully you can find something unique to my story. Please let me know what you think. Also apologies for the chapters being so short...it looks longer on Microsoft. Chapter 1 I pulled into my driveway and pushed the clicker on my garage opener. As the door slowly slid open I couldn’t help but crack a smile. Suddenly a rough day at work didn’t seem so terrible. My boyfriend of eight years was finally home after a two month work assignment back east. After shutting down the car and grabbing my gym bag I opened the door to my house… and the lights were off. Of course. I could hear the sounds of battle coming from upstairs. I don’t know why I expected him to be waiting for me by the door when I got home… he’s an avid player of this sword and magic computer game he plays with his friends, and the game released an expansion three days before he got home. Of course he didn’t have his gaming computer with him so he had to wait… which I know drove him nuts. I set my bag down by the washing machine and trudged up the stairs to our bedroom. I guided myself by the light blue light coming from my partner’s computer screen in the bedroom. I entered the room quietly. His back was to me and he had his headset on. He was frantically pushing buttons and shouting commands into his mic. “Stack! Stack! Over here…. Ok fast rez this pug over here… never mind we’ll get him later. Drop your A O E and push!” I still can’t translate all his gamer jargon. I waited a couple minutes while he finished his fight. Before he could find a new bad guy to go destroy I turned the lights on. Startled, he quickly turned to face me. His face lit up. Then he turned back to his screen. “Sorry guys, I have to go, Frizzle can you command? Thanks, see ya.” He shut down his game, tossed his headset down, and then proceeded to jump right into my arms. “Oh my god, I missed you so much… my family is terrible!” he exclaimed between kisses. “I missed you too babe,” I replied. “Looks like you managed to find some shopping at least.” He pulled back from our embrace and gave me his goofy smile. God I loved him so much. I set him down so he could parade what he got. “Yeah… so you won’t believe this,” he said excitedly. “I went to this specialty big and tall store and found these!” He pointed to his feet. He was wearing an enormous pair of sneakers. They were at least a few sizes larger than my own size 15 shoes. “check ‘em out… size 20! I never thought I’d find a store that carried them!” I laughed. “You could always try Amazon you know.” Still smiling, he quickly shot me that not-amused look that I knew all too well. “You can’t see them in real life on Amazon before you buy them,” he said pointedly. “You know I like to shop for shoes.” Still laughing I shot back “yeah, well you have no problem special ordering other clothes online.” He reached up and lightly tapped me on the chest. “That’s different… Speaking of which, I got a package today that had this in it,” he said, pointing to the oversized muscle-tank he looked like he was practically drowning in. “Oh, and these.” He lifted up his shirt revealing a pair of workout shorts that looked like pants on him, and untied the waist. The large shorts fell to the floor revealing a jockstrap with a gigantic pouch. The straps hung loosely around his legs and the waist was tied to hold it on his body. He was excited, in more than one way, but of course his thin 5.5 inch cock didn’t fill the giant pouch he had literally tied around his waist. He looked back up at me grinning ear to ear. At that moment he reminded me of a puppy that knew he had done well and was waiting for a treat. “Damn dude!” I told him, playing to his fantasy. “You’re gonna be huge when you grow into those!” “Damn right!” he shot back, smiling. I knew full well there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever fit those clothes. I’ve heard of people gaining an extra inch or two of height in their early to mid-twenties… but at 30 years old, even if by some miracle he had a growth spurt, there was no way my 5’4”, 130 lb stud with a size 8 shoe would fill this outfit out. Still, I entertained his fantasy because I love him. As long as I’ve known him he’s been fascinated with everything big. Big height, big muscle, big cock. That’s his motto. That’s why he fell for me so quickly. At 6’5” I’m a tall drink of water, and I’m pretty proud of my bodybuilder physique (it’s so much tougher for us tall guys). With those two traits when he first saw me he went weak in the knees... but when I got him home and he got his eyes on my thick 8.5” piece of meat deal was done. He decided right then and there he was gonna keep me. I must have zoned out just thinking about how I met my man, and how much I loved him and all his quirks all these years later. Because next thing I knew he was waving at me: “Hey…hey… earth to Aaron. Are you going to stand there and stare at me all evening? I love you, but I haven’t had sex in two months. I need your ass.” As was typical when he was wearing his bigger clothes he was the top that night. Chapter 2 He really was a horny little bastard. He shot 4 loads before pulling out, and then still got a fifth off all over my face before collapsing next to me. He leaned over to the nightstand and handed me a rag. “That’s gonna feel so much better when I’m bigger,” he said nonchalantly--still coming down off his orgasm. “I’m gonna open you up like you do me…and it’s going to be awesome when I go to the gym. I’ll walk around the locker room naked with my dick swinging back and forth and everyone will want it. I’ll be buff with pecs like yours and people will ask to feel my arms too. It’ll be awesome to have you be the little spoon for once.” “I can be your little spoon now,” I reassured him. He laughed. “Haha…yeah…but no. I mean I like holding you… but I can’t sleep like that, you’re too wide I can’t reach all the way around you like I’d like to yet. I want to be able to hold you like you hold me.” “But when you’re big, how am I going to keep the other guys off you? Who’s to say that you won’t find a guy that likes your size as much as you like mine? You might not want to keep me then” I teased. He sat up and looked me in the eye: “Aaron, you’re like a shoe that fits me perfectly… I’ll never outgrow you.” He stated seriously. “A shoe? Seriously?” I scolded playfully. “Patrick… I love you but you’re a dork.” I rolled out of bed. “All right big guy, let’s shower and get to bed… you’ve got to be jetlagged.” Chapter 3 The next few weeks went by fairly routinely. That is until one Saturday morning while I was cooking breakfast Patrick shouted down from the bedroom, “Aaron, Aaron come quick!” I hurried up the stairs to see what was the matter. Patrick was absent mindedly stroking his cock with one hand while scrolling down a browser with the other. “What’s up?” I asked. “You’ve got to read this” was his reply. I began scanning the screen. It was the results of a two year research study investigating a compound that was supposed to interact with the endocrine system, inducing height and muscular changes. “This is it… I’m finally going to get big!” Patrick exclaimed. “Wait…what?” I stuttered, trying to run through the page before he got too far ahead of me. “I finally found what I need to get big like you! I told you! I told you I’m gonna get huge like you!” I finished reading the synopsis. “Hold on a sec, guy… this says the study was discontinued early because the compound didn’t have an effect on enough participants. It’s been 3 years. Even then the best case scenario is an “increase of 1-3 inches in height as well as increased musculature, penis size and rigidity”. I quoted. “Honey, you can’t get more rigid… and is 1-3 inches worth any risk?” “Like you said, it’s been 3 years, I’m sure they’ve done more research,” he countered quickly, “and yes…1-3” would be worth it.” He gazed into my eyes with such sincerity and need that I quickly gave in. “If you think it’s what you need to do I’m with you 110%... remember though its 4 injections over the course of a year, so it’s not like you can change your mind.” I said. “I’ll think about it… but I won’t change my mind. I promise.” Chapter 4 Over the next several days I became concerned. Each night when I got home from work Patrick would be upstairs on his computer. Though instead of the usual video game chatter. I’d arrive to silence. I’d wander upstairs, and Patrick would be sprawled out by his desk, head phones in, scrawling through page after page of research. He sit there in his size 20 sneakers and oversized jock, every once in a while moving enough to make a bookmark, and every few hours I’d make him stop and walk downstairs to either eat or get some water. Or anything really…just something to let me know he was still alive. One night I was sitting downstairs watching the latest episode of Gotham when he came downstairs and sat beside me. He snuggled up next to me and after a few minutes simply said “I’m ready.” Patrick managed to book an initial intake appointment a few weeks later. He was nervous, and asked that I go with him. We drove from the suburbs to the address provided, which turned out to be an historic tire warehouse building that had been converted into a laboratory. The outside didn’t look too impressive. Just faded signs painted on the walls probably 80 years ago, a Starbucks on the ground floor, and two purposefully rusty-looking doors with a buzzer and keypad to the right of them. I pressed the buzzer and a voice quickly answered, asking Patrick to confirm his appointment. He did and the door clicked allowing us entry. The interior of the building was markedly different from the outside. It was very brightly lit. Very sterile looking. At the center of the room was a large white circular desk. A young twinkish man who looked like he was maybe a freshman in college sat at the desk. As we approached the desk he checked us both out. Very obviously. He smirked at Patrick, then glanced me over and then fumbled with some paperwork on his desk as we got near. “Hello,” he said. “You must be Patrick. Thank you for coming. Dr. Stevens will be with you shortly.” He turned to me. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name, and I don’t see another appointment at this time.” “Oh no, I’m just here with him,” I replied. The twink gave us a knowing look. “Oh ok, that’s cool. Make yourself comfortable. We have a few chairs and some reading material. Do you need anything to drink?” “Not at the moment. Thank you,” I responded. Patrick finished his questionnaire and we sat down. A few minutes later I saw a man with a clipboard walk down the stairs. He was about 6’2”, with a nice athletic build and short, jet black hair. He was wearing a blue button down shirt and black denim jeans. “Howdy… Patrick?” he asked. Patrick looked up from the fitness magazine he had started to read. Introductions were made and the doctor invited us upstairs. Chapter 5 Dr. Stevens’s office was fairly nondescript. It consisted of a large oak desk, a couple chairs, a computer, a lamp, and a large bookcase full of books and knickknacks. In the center of the bookcase was an urn, next to the urn sat a tiny little barbell and a photo of a child in a wheelchair. I couldn’t tell you the kid’s age. His head too large for his body, which seemed to have little to no musculature at all. He was short, though his hands looked large. Despite all this I couldn’t help but be entertained by the kid’s beaming smile. Whoever was taking the photo obviously meant the world to this young man and you couldn’t look at this photo without seeing it in his expression. “mgm-hmm,” Dr. Stevens coughed. We all took a seat around the desk. “My secretary says you’re quite persistant, Mr.” “Patrick,” my boyfriend chimed in, “and this is my partner Aaron.” “Nice to meet you both, so what can I help you with.” Patrick looked at me for reassurance. I gave him a nod, and he began grinning ear to ear and scooted to the edge of his seat. This seemed to make the doctor uncomfortable for a moment as he shifted in his chair and shot a glance to the urn on his bookshelf. “Sir, three years ago you lead a study on the effects of a certain compound on the endocrine system,” Patrick started. “That study ended early,” the doctor interrupted. “The compound was deemed ineffective on human systems.” Patrick’s grin faded. “Yes, but it wasn’t…” “Wasn’t what?” The doctor was obviously agitated. “If you’d done your research you would have realized that the compound you speak of was only effective in less than 1% of the sample. Even then the effects were insufficient for continued funding. I’m a busy man, do you have a reason for hounding my assistant for days to get an appointment or did you just want me to read the conclusion of my paper for you?” Feeling intimidated, Patrick slouched back into his chair momentarily before standing up and walking towards the door. He was doing his best to fight back tears. I stood to join him, my heart felt heavy looking at my lover’s dejected demeanor. I could see his hope…his dream… falling to pieces in front of me. “It wasn’t a failure,” I said softly while looking straight at Patrick. “You had results. Sure, they weren’t as much as hoped for… but they were results. My partner…my boyfriend…has taken time off work, and has driven over 50 miles for an hour of your time. Sure, it’s a long shot. But from where he’s standing it’s his best shot of attaining the one thing he’s wanted for as long as he could breathe. The entire reason we’re here-- the reason he’s blown up your secretary’s phone and email. Is because he wants… he needs… to explore this opportunity.” Patrick wiped a tear from his cheek, his eyes lit up. He had his fire back. “Sir,” he stated. “Aaron’s right. The study wasn’t a failure. Please give me a chance. Even if it’s a small chance” He looked the doctor squarely in the eye. He spoke with sincerity. With need. “Someday I’m going to be big… like you and Aaron. I know it. I just need help getting there. Please help me.” Dr. Stevens didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. He stared at Patrick as though he’d seen a ghost. Finally he began fiddling with a pen. Squeezing it until his knuckles turned white then releasing it, over and over. He stood up and walked over to the bookcase. Standing in front of the urn with his back to us he finally spoke: “You don’t just stop and start studies willy-nilly. That’s not how professional research works,” he began. “But?” Patrick said quietly. “But,” the doctor turned, “my research has never really stopped to be honest. No, I don’t have any current “subjects” or “trials”, but the scientist in me still looks for the answers I know are out there. I didn’t have enough subjects to truly test out the compound I developed, and funding dried up. My old company blamed faulty research, but it wasn’t. The formula is just very specific. It only affects a fraction of a fraction of the human population—and I have developed a hypothesis that that’s because it affects a specific hormonal genetic marker that only one in several million people have. I don’t have the resources I’d need to prove or disprove that any longer.” “What happens if you get the injection and you don’t have the marker,” I asked. “Nothing,” the doctor sighed. “If it doesn’t work, you may as well have been injected with saline.” “Do… do you still have access to your old formula?” Patrick asked carefully. The doctor looked at him skeptically. “I do.” “Then may I try it?” He continued quickly, “If it doesn’t work, we’ve lost nothing. If it does, we have everything to gain. I’ll sign whatever legal papers I need to absolve you of any liability. I’ll pay you. Please. What can I offer to get your help? I'll do anything.” The pleading look in his eyes spoke louder than words. The doctor sat back down and put his head between his hands. After a few moments he looked up. “I may very well lose my license over this, but I’ll do it. You remind me so much of my brother I’d be ashamed if I said no.” Patrick was so excited his legs gave out. As he sunk to his knees tears streamed down his face. I hurried over to hold him. I’d never seen him so excited. He was shaking. “Oh my god… oh my god,” he kept repeated. “It’s gonna happen! It’s finally gonna happen!” Dr. Stevens took some Kleenex out of his desk drawer. He then picked up the phone and told his assistant to clear his schedule for the evening. He took a couple and handed them to us. He gave us a few minutes for Patrick to collect himself before speaking again. “Ada…I mean Patrick. Now since I’ve agreed to assist you and provide you with the compound, we need to discuss terms. We are going to approach this scientifically. Before we administer the first injection, I need to have you sign some disclosure and consent forms. Also, I want to run a full blood work up on you. I’m certain you won’t be allergic to the formula, I’d just like to have a baseline for your hormone levels. Also, I’m going to need to run a complete physical—including height, weight, musculature, and sexual function. Once that’s complete I can administer the injection. If you react, you should begin to notice some changes within the next three to four days. I ask that you email me if you feel any changes. In the meantime, I will provide you with a diet and exercise plan that you must follow daily. We will schedule a follow up appointment one week from today. If you’re not reacting to the formula no need to come in. If you do have a reaction we will continue to the next phase. Keep in mind that once you receive the injection it’s irreversible.” Patrick looked at me once again for approval. I nodded. “I understand,” Patrick said. “How much do I owe you?” Dr. Stephens smiled. “We’re going to do this right. For this first visit there will be no payment. If you react to the formula, each week I will provide to you a stipend to cover the full cost of anything study related.” “I thought you didn’t have funding.” I said, stunned by his generous offer. “The one exception I’m making for this project is that this particular trial will be paid out of a very special trust fund, if it should be successful” the doctor replied, again glancing at the urn. “Thank you sir,” Patrick said. “Where do I sign?”
  3. Synergy Sometimes you just know. It feels so deep and integral that is seems to come from the deepest part of you. You can feel it in your bones, radiating out to the skin. It is a truth that cannot be explained away. I felt this the first time I saw Ian. I was too young to know what it was at the time, but I knew he was special to me. I knew that he held in his equally small hands the key to happiness—or what I believed happiness to be at the time. Everyone loved Ian. He was handsome and athletic and social. He was friendly and kind. One night, when we were in fifth grade, I spend the night at Ian’s house. He hadn’t asked me to spend the night before, but we had become better friends. I remember walking downstairs to the basement and getting sleeping bags out, lying next to him, feeling his warmth just inches away. I don’t know why I did it, but I looked over to him in the dark. “Hey Ian…We should pretend that I am Sarah. You like Sarah, right?” “What do you mean, ‘pretend you are Sarah?’ That’s silly, Brad.” “I mean, I can lay on top of you and we can kiss. You can practice on me. You want to kiss her. You said so earlier.” “OK, but we can’t tell anyone about it.” That was the first time I knew that something was “wrong” about the way I felt. I crawled on top of Ian’s body, opened my mouth, and kissed him deeply, albeit clumsily. He was my first kiss. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I felt so attached to him. We never spoke of that moment the next day, or the day after, or the day after that. We continued to become closer and closer. He was everything to me, even at that age. I felt something deep and powerful inside my young mind and body. Ian did something for me that no one else had ever done…He made me feel beautiful and handsome. He made me feel popular. I was still the new kid but when Ian and I started hanging out, everyone accepted me. He made me feel wanted. He was amazing, even at that age. Weeks later, my parents sat us down for a family meeting. We moved around a lot when I was young. From what I had heard during closed-door phone calls, my dad was getting a job, hours away from Spokane where we lived at the time. I wasn’t sure at that moment, but when my parent’s called a family meeting, I knew it was time to move again. I was heartbroken. Not only because I now had some great friends, but because I couldn’t imagine leaving Ian. We played soccer together. We rode our bikes around the neighborhood together. We went swimming together. He was all I thought about and everything I wanted. I couldn’t bear to think about moving away from him. He was my first kiss. He was also my first heartbreak, although looking back, I don’t think that he knew it. He didn’t have the awareness that I did at that age. He didn’t know how I felt, not really. The day we moved, I remember grey skies and a light rain. The U-Haul truck waited in the driveway. Ian had promised me he would come and say goodbye but we were ready to leave and he hadn’t come to the house yet. I felt like my heart would break right there in the driveway. I would never see him again. Something inside of me cried out for him. I felt like I was leaving a part of myself behind—God, if I could only just say goodbye. The grass was still brown from a cold winter with plenty of snow. Spring’s warmth had not touched down yet and from the grey sky, it would remain that way for a while. I remember looking at the silent, sleeping, brown-matted grass and thinking that it looked like how I felt—sickly, on the brink of life, hungry for a better day, desiring of warmth, cognizant of a great change—afraid. I tried to postpone our departure. I said I had to use the restroom. I said I needed to spend a minute in my room. I wanted to walk around the backyard again—the backyard where Ian and I had spent so many hours talking and playing—and so many nights sleeping under the stars in our sleeping bags. I loved him and I couldn’t believe that I wouldn’t see him again. As my mom locked the front door to the split-entry house and we walked outside toward my waiting father and the truck full of our belongings, I saw a quick flash of shadow coming around the corner of the street. It was Ian. His legs were pumping on the peddles of his BMX bike and he was sweating and breathless—I could tell—and that was saying something. He was such a great athlete, even at that age. He must have been riding as fast as he could for the several blocks that separated our houses. I breathed a sigh of relief—and then sorrow crashed into me. Suddenly, I didn’t know if it was the best thing for him to have come. It would only make things harder. “Brad, here comes Ian! I know you wanted to say goodbye to him. I need to go talk to your dad but I’ll be in the car in a minute. We need to leave in a couple of minutes, so say goodbye. Do you want to ride with your father or do you want to come behind in the car with me?” I couldn’t even think about what my mom was saying. Did I want to ride in the truck or the car? I didn’t care. Only Ian mattered. When I saw him lay his bike down on the grass and walk quickly toward me, I could only think of him. My mom went to talk to my dad. Ian grabbed my hand and led me around to the back of the truck. “Sorry. I was grocery shopping with my mom and we were late. I tried to make her get home faster.” He was still out of breath. He wore the scent of his home. I could smell it. It smelled like Ian. I can still remember that smell—like summery detergent, fabric softener, and something spicy…like cloves and baked apples. His smell was warm and clean. Writing this down, I can still smell it years later. He leaned over to me quickly and gave me a kiss on the lips. I knew he was taking a risk…he had told me months ago that we were never supposed to talk about that night…so in that moment, I knew he felt something for me as well. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t respond for a moment. “I’ll miss you, Ian.” A tear edged its way out of the corner of my eye and slowly fell down my cheek. “Don’t cry. I’ll always be with you. I promise.” Somehow, I knew he was telling the truth. I felt something inside of me leap out for him, but the emotion that the empty space was replaced by was loneliness and sadness. He was right in front of me, but I still felt destroyed because I understood that we were going to be apart forever. “Goodbye, Brad. We should write to each other.” His voice cracked. We were so young and innocent. Pure. We loved each other and it was that simple. We weren’t old enough to be jaded by life. We weren’t old enough to be filled with trepidation or caution because of poor decisions. We were just friends—friends who loved each other deeply. “Brad! We need to go. Its already an hour after when we wanted to leave. Come and get in the car,” I heard my mom bellow. “See you, Ian.” “Write to me when you get to your new house.” I jumped in the car and looked out the window. It was slightly fogged from the weather. It began to rain harder. The last thing I remember about that day was Ian standing on our lawn, his BMX bicycle tipped over next to him, waving as we drove away. ================================================================================== The rest of my elementary school life was a nightmare. I was thin, short, and out of shape. I had thick glasses and was “smart” so the cool kids didn’t want to really get to know me. I thought of Ian often when no one would play with me. Eventually, the most popular kid on our sixth-grade class befriended me. He was tall and blonde. His father was a doctor and they lived in a beautiful house on the crest of a hill overlooking the town. I was glad he became my friend. Everyone seemed to like me after he started talking to me. I didn’t feel the same way about him as I did about Ian, but he was nice and I made some friends because of him. Ian and I wrote to each other a few times. Eventually, we stopped. I don’t know who sent the last letter, or who didn’t respond, but I do remember feeling some blunted and distant sorrow about that loss. But one thing I knew—that beautiful handsome boy would ALWAYS be my first kiss. And I would ALWAYS be his. That gave me some satisfaction. ================================================================================== Junior high started the next year. It was a huge transition. The elementary schools combined and so there were hundreds of new kids. Social life was turned on its head. I went to sit with my friends from elementary school at lunch. The popular kids had somehow found each other automatically. The cool kids I had become friends with in my last year of elementary school had gravitated toward a group of other good-looking kids. I approached John, the coolest guy in my class last year who had befriended me. I had never seen the girl sitting next to him, nor can I remember what she looked like or who she was. Sometimes it is easiest to block things out that are painful. “Hey John. Is this where we are sitting?” I asked when I walked up to the long cafeteria table. John didn’t look at me, not really. He just kept talking to the people around him. The little shrew-faced girl sitting next to him looked up at me standing next to them as they were seated. With a smug look she gave me a once over, looking at my unremarkable face, my thick glasses, beginnings of acne, and unremarkable body. I was short, even for that age. I wasn’t dressed like most of the cool kids. My parents didn’t have much money although we never lacked anything we really needed. We just couldn’t afford the name brands and current styles that the cool kids could. After inspecting me carefully, the girl looked me straight in the eye and proclaimed me unworthy. “This table is for the popular kids. Go somewhere else.” In that instant, something inside of me changed, and not for the better. I felt alone. I felt like I had lost something of great value – I had lost my friends from last year. From that moment on, when the lunch bell rang, I either sat in the hallway waiting for the lunch period to be over and not eating anything, or if I was especially hungry that day, I would take my brown bag lunch, walk into the boys’ restroom, close the door to a stall, sit on a lidded toilet, and eat my lunch there. It was disgusting, I know, but I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere. I knew everyone and they knew me, but I didn’t belong to any group or have any real friends. It was terrible. My parents didn’t know of my isolation. No one really knew. I faked it well. But, it was destroying my self-confidence and self worth. One morning, I woke up and felt sore from head to toe. It wasn’t the soreness that comes from a solid run or a little overexertion. It was the kind of soreness that made me feel like my body was growing into the mattress. I could barely move. I had never felt like that before. It was painful but it also felt supremely…good. It was a foreign feeling. I only wanted to lay in bed. I wracked my mind trying to think about what could have made me feel that way. I didn’t play sports and I hadn’t had gym class the day before. Every muscle in my body felt like it had been put through some sort of top-level military exercise. I couldn’t explain it, so I didn’t try. When I got to school, I moved slowly through the hall. Picking up my legs was a struggle. God, so much pain was wracking my body. The thought of sitting in a chair for first period was the only thing that kept me going. I shuffled through the hall. I heard some laughter, most likely because there was wincing on my face. I tried to blend in to the surroundings. It is how I learned to survive; however, the dull pain radiating from my muscles forced a certain scowl to be permanently etched onto my face. Fuck. I was almost to my first course of the day. I turned around the corner in the wide hallway hugging the wall and leaning a bit on it for support. Just then, John, my previous friend from elementary school ran into me, head-on. “Sorry, Brad.” He looked at me with some degree of pity. I think he knew he had been an ass hole and was feeling sorry about the social pariah that I had become. He was partially responsible for that and I know he knew it to some degree. At that moment though, all I could think about was the sharp pain that I felt as his body collided with mine. The rest of junior high was spent cowering away from people. The days of soreness came and went for years. I couldn’t really explain them, nor could I escape them. I would often feel the same way a day or two after my gym class, but that was only once a week and my bouts of full-body soreness occurred much more frequently than that. One thing that I did excel at was music. I joined the high school jazz band when I moved up to 10th grade. I was good. I played the piano and could make the most jaded person feel alive when I sat down at the keyboard. It was a gift. Our school was known for the music program and a lot of the cool kids were in band actually. The teacher was amazing, energetic, and fun. We traveled around the state putting on concerts for communities and other schools. It was the highlight of my high school career up to that point. When I was a senior, we were invited to perform at a Washington state high school leadership camp at Central Washington University in Ellensburg. It was scheduled on the day of my 18th birthday. CWU wasn’t too far away, but it was a reason to be gone from high school and my tormented existence there for a day so I was very excited. I woke up on the morning before we left, more sore and exhausted than I ever had been. I was in so much pain; I almost started crying when attempting to get out of bed. I didn’t want to eat as was typical when I felt this way. I just wanted to lay in bed, motionless, without apology. My parents had been becoming increasingly worried. Something that they thought was probably just growing pains had now been occurring for the better part of 6 years…and I hadn’t been growing much. I was around 5’4” and thin. Most of the latter part of that equation was because of my lack of desire to eat when I felt the soreness. It was becoming more and more frequent that I would have these bad days. The doctors didn’t know what was causing it and that was not for a lack of trying to figure it out. They did all sorts of tests. I was supposedly healthy outside if a bit of malnutrition. Anyway, Jazz Band was planning on going to this leadership conference the next day. I wasn’t going to miss it. It would be the best birthday present I could have--I enjoyed getting out and exploring other places. It reminded me that there was a life outside of the walls of my high school. I knew that if I could make it to graduation, things would be OK. I was thinking of going to CWU anyway, so I could check it out while I was there. I forced myself out of bed, showered, got dressed, and made it to school just on time- without eating of course. I knew I should really start eating more. The day went well for the most part. I ate in the bathroom stall again, which was becoming more and more common for me to do. I avoided talking to people and therefore, avoided being made fun of or pushed around. Fuck, I was short AND skinny. That is a troublesome combination for an 18-year-old band geek. I walked home alone. It was only a couple of blocks so there was not use in driving. I was in a good mood however. Tomorrow was another band trip and my birthday. I ate a few bites at dinner, crawled into bed, and wished for a quick sleep. The next morning, we left for Ellensburg. The air was clear and crisp as often happens in the late spring. This would be our last trip of the school year and the last trip of my high school career. We arrived at the university and started setting up in a huge ornate auditorium. Red velvet curtains crossed the stage with long braded golden ropes hanging from the corners. Huge soaring columns lined the sides of the auditorium and hundreds of soft seats curve out in dozens of rows facing the stage. It was a beautiful building. We got things prepared and just in time. The participants from other high schools around the state started filtering just as we completed our sound check. The concert began. I was brilliant as usual. But I didn’t consider myself to be anything special, regardless of the talent I obviously had. The concert ended and I was a bit sad. The one thing in my life that I cared about, the one thing I was good at, was almost over. I loved the applause of the audience. It was one good thing in my life. I made my way out of the auditorium after we were finished. I was helping the others pack up their instruments in the back alley behind the building. I felt a shock of surprise for some reason. I didn’t know why, but the air seemed to change somehow. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I got goose bumps all over my arms. “Hey. Is your name Brad?” I heard a deep powerful rumbling voice ask from a few feet behind me. It sounded like silk and thunder. I turned around and one of the most stunning men I have ever seen was staring at me with a quizzical look. He smiled and my heart exploded. He was about my age but phenomenally more muscular. He looked to be about 6’ tall, had smooth tan skin unadulterated by acne. His hair was short and with a slight curl. Damn. He was beautiful. “Ya. I’m Brad.” I didn’t know what else to say. Who the fuck was this Adonis? His tight t-shirt hugged his body and was a size too small. The fabric stretched begrudgingly over his bloated pecs, pulling tight especially across his cleavage. Two gumdrop sized nipples stuck out against a shirt that had no recourse from the power contained underneath it. The sleeves were a bit to short but that only served to accentuate the planets of delts perched above the god’s arms. Biceps dangled happily from the shoulders and were hugged on each side by a very prominent vein. His forearms looked like Popeye-come-to-life but were decorated with an intricate web of vasculature. I never thought veins to be especially attractive, but his were somehow…graceful. I couldn’t take my eyes away from his steely grey eyes. They knew something I did not. I could tell he was now smiling mischievously. I broke my gaze and looked away for a moment. I pushed the bridge of my glasses up my nose. Some of the girls were staring, slack-jawed, at the perfect specimen that was staring at me. Some of the other guys were similarly in awe. Others looked disgusted, but only out of jealousy. This was a god, and everyone knew it. “Brad! I can’t believe it is you!” The god looked like he was getting excited and was happy about something. I couldn’t think of what it could be. It made me a bit nervous—and aroused. His muscles expanded and contracted. He didn’t take his eyes off of me but had this galactic grin across his face. He took a step toward me and I just looked up, wondering who this was and what he could possibly want with me. He took another step, bent down slightly and wrapped his arms around me. “It’s Ian! From elementary school. I heard your name when they were introducing you all in there and I thought it must be you.” It was Ian. The best friend I ever had. My first kiss. His first kiss. “IAN!” I gasped. He lifted me up easily, his hands under my arms, until I was eye to eye with him. It should have felt demeaning to have someone pick me up like a small child, but it didn’t. It felt safe. “Brad, I can’t believe it man. I just can’t believe it. What are the odds of us meeting here after all this time?” I couldn’t speak. My mind was racing and my cock was beginning to respond to this beautiful man’s voice. This was my best friend. This was my best friend! Instantly, I didn’t feel alone anymore. I heard a couple of gasps from my fellow band-mates. I could tell they were stunned that I knew who this muscle stud was and that he was giving me a hug. Ian set me down on my feet again. My eyes traveled up from his pecs to his eyes. I couldn’t help but noticed, however, that his too-small shirt left an inch gap between the top of his tight jeans and the bottom hem of his t-shirt. I could make out the silky skin underneath and a very pronounced happy trail of hair running from what must be his abs down to his manhood. I was about to explode. My cock twitched in my pants. His eyes were glowing and his smile could knock satellites out of orbit if he grinned in the right direction. Fuck. He was perfect. “Ian, we have to go!” I heard a middle-aged voice call out in the distance. “We have to leave now!” “Hey Brad. We need to catch up. I should give you my number. I graduate high school next week and will have a few weeks off before I come here for football training camp this summer. I can come visit you if you want. I just can’t believe that I finally reconnected with you!” “That…That would be…great, Ian.” The god looked around for a pen or something so he could write his number down. A stunned girl (a homely overweight saxophonist) meekly handed him a pen, smiling, blushing. “Thank you,” he rumbled and smiled looking her directly in the eye. He was kind. “You are coming here next year? I am as well.” I stuttered out the information. “Ya, I am! This will be so great! Brad, you have to call me. I’ll come visit in the next few weeks. I can drive over from Spokane. It’s only a few hours. I am so happy to see you! I miss you.” There was a look of caution and care in his eyes. He almost looked sad. It looked like pity. I couldn’t speak but just nodded in agreement. He flashed a smile and winked with his left eye. “Call me, Brad… Please. We have a lot to catch up on.” Another smile flashed across his face and he turned around to walk toward his teacher. The wind had been knocked out of my sails. I could barely breath as I watched him walk away. His back would make his chest jealous. Thick pillars of muscle ran along his spine. A topographical map lay under his tight shirt. And his round tight ass… that is what my eyes focused on. Powerful, tight, hard, sexy-as-fuck. I wanted to bury my face in between those muscle cakes and feed on his undoubtedly perfect hole. I couldn’t stop staring. Just before he turned around the corner with his school group, he looked back at me, flashed that smile, and winked again. It was silent for a moment. Everyone around me was stunned. They looked at me like I was an alien, like they had just barely noticed a new life form in their midst. “You know that guy?” I heard spoken to me a dozen times in the next few minutes. I didn’t respond for a few moments. I found that collecting my thoughts in that moment was almost impossible. John, my elementary school friend who hadn’t given me the time of day for years, and the drummer of our jazz band, approached me quickly. “Who was that?” he demanded. He sounded almost—jealous. There is little I remember about what happened after that, but I stood up straighter in that moment and looked around at the faces torn between trying to catch another glimpse of Ian or watching me like some strange insect. “He is my best friend.” I said it simply. Everyone went back to work, packing up for our trip home. Every once in a while, I would see someone glance at me and just shake their head. I didn’t know if it was jealousy or incredulity…maybe it was a bit of both. Which ever it was, that moment was the best of any birthday I had ever had. The next day I woke up and was sore again. I was in pain more than I wasn’t these days. I could barely get out of bed but I had to try. Something about what happened with Ian the previous day echoed in my mind. He was the handsomest, most masculine, gorgeous man that I had ever seen…and he wanted to come visit for a few days and “catch up” on life. I pinched myself repeatedly. Holy shit. School wrapped up for the year largely without incident. I called Ian a couple of times over the course of a few weeks and we set up for him to come and visit for several days before he headed to his summer football program. I couldn’t believe that that muscle stud would be under my roof, sleeping in my room, for 3 or 4 days. I don’t know if I could control myself. Every time I thought about it, I got hard…like raging hard. My cock was becoming quite talented at producing sweet honey-like precum at even the most passing of thoughts about Ian. How would my humble cock and balls handle having that meat monster around for days on end? The day finally came. It was perfectly sunny outside and warm. Ian pulled into our driveway in a late model Jeep Wrangler. It fit his ruggedness and personality perfectly. I watched out the window as he grabbed a t-shirt from the back seat and pulled it over his bare chest. He had been shirtless and now was trying to be presentable for meeting my parents again. I wish he would have just left that god-damned shirt off and walked up to the front door in all of his magnificence. Even just looking out the window at him pulling his shirt over his head, I was ready to pump out a huge load. This could be trouble. I heard the doorbell downstairs and a shuffling from the kitchen. “Brad!!! That must be Ian!” I head my mother yell. She was going to answer the door, thankfully. I was still a bit hard from watching Ian’s bare chest pull into the drive. I wanted to suck on his nipples, chewing them, grabbing his huge hard ass, tongue his tight pink love hole. These images flashed through my mind in the course of one second. Fuck. My. Life. I heard the low rumble of Ian’s voice in the entry way and then I heard my mom start laughing. He was a charmer that is for sure. I made my way downstairs slowly…I didn’t want to cum spontaneously in my pants before I even got downstairs. “IAN! You made it.” I could hardly contain my excitement. I still couldn’t believe that this perfectly handsome muscle beast would be within arms reach of me for days on end. I was suddenly apprehensive. Would he find me watching him, lusting after him, tenting my shorts every time he looked at me. He seemed so nice, but maybe he would beat my ass if he found out. “Let’s get you settled in my room. Then we can decide what we are going to do the rest of the day, OK?” “Sure, Brad. I do need to go find a gym today so I can get a good workout in, but I saw a few coming into town. Other than that, I am completely free. I just want to be sure I stay in top shape for football camp this weekend.” I nodded in agreement. Some inner part of me wanted to be sure that Ian invited me to go workout with him, even though I hadn’t lifted a weight in my life. He grabbed his duffle bag in one arm and hoisted it onto his shoulder. “Lead the way, Brad,” he shot another smile at me with one of those devious winks. He would be trouble, I could feel it. “Straight up the stairs,” I said. He started climbing the stairs, his round hard ass-globes propelling his rippling beefy body up to my room. I was following him only a step behind. My face was only an inch away from his muscular ass globes and that tight, warm hole and I could smell his exquisite man scent reaching out to me like a mythological siren. I wanted to bury my tongue in the crevasse of his perky powerful caboose. I wanted to probe his fuck hole with my tongue until I made him scream. I couldn’t believe I was having these thoughts, but I was. It was as if he was sending me the message through his pheromones. I could smell him. I could smell his need. We reached my room, he threw his duffle bag on the ground, smiled at me, and got a dirty look on his face. Once again, he knew something I didn’t. “You mind if I change? I want to get my gym clothes on before I go find a place to workout.” “I don’t mind at all. I’ll just give you a few minutes to get ready.” I stared up at Ian, his pulsating muscles writhing under his tight clothes. “Brad, I’d prefer if you stayed.” He leveled me with another sly smile. “We can start catching up as I get ready.” He offered that last bit as insurance in case I didn’t accept the direction of his comments. How could I not. He was 6 foot and over 200 pounds of solid marble strength. I was just pushing 5’ 4” and struggled to break 110 pounds on a good day. I was pathetic comparatively. “Sure. Let’s catch up, Ian.” I sat on the edge of the bed as Ian rifled through his clothes looking for something he could wear to the gym. “Do you have any protein powder, Brad? I should probably make a shake before heading to the gym. I have some in the Jeep I can give you later in exchange.” I couldn’t stifle my laughter. “Seriously Ian. Do I look like I use protein powder? I am about as big as one of those thick thighs of yours.” Ian stopped changing and just looked at me—like he shouldn’t have asked the question. I wanted to look him in the eye, but I could only look at the beautifully tanned skin of the man before me. He had taken off all of his clothes except his briefs. I could see his bulge threatening to stretch the limits of its cage…and he wasn’t even hard. His body was so beautiful and thick. I could spend hours trying to describe it, but it would do no good. My eyes tracked down from his shoulders to his pecs. They traced his arms and switched over to his insane abs. Were abs supposed to have a netting of veins? I hadn’t ever seen that. My eyes came to rest on his waistline. His Apollo’s belt (or what I liked to call, the cum gutters) focused my eyes on the trail of hair extending from just above his navel downward where they plunged into his intensely white and tight briefs. I let out a soft moan and then… I spontaneously ejaculated. Fear coursed across my face and I felt like I was going to pass out, my body trembling from the orgasm as well as the embarrassment. My eyes started to flutter as I felt the world around me getting dark. I could tell I was going to pass out, my legs giving out underneath me. I faintly remember Ian’s beautiful muscled powerful body stepping toward me quickly with arms out. I felt them wrap around me. Then I felt myself faint. I was lying down on the bed naked. I looked over and saw Ian rifling through my dresser…shit. I had my muscle magazines in there. I mean, online pics and videos were OK, but sometimes having those pictures right in front – a magazine in one and my cock in the other – that was perfect. He grabbed a couple of items and turned around just in time to see me looking over at him. “You OK, Brad? I got you undressed and cleaned up. I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want to worry your parents about you passing out since I think I know why you did.” He could see the terror in my eyes, I am sure of it. “It’s alright. Don’t worry about it. It happens sometimes.” “People spontaneously dumping cum in their pants when they look at you? That happens ‘sometimes’? Fuck that man!” For some reason, it came out in an angry voice. I felt my cheeks turn red. Was I jealous that others had seen Ian, my best friend, and had instant orgasms? Fuck yes. I was a little jealous. I was jealous that others had that reaction and I was even more jealous that he was so goddamn perfect. My life had sucked beyond words since I moved away from him…I ate my lunch almost every day in the school bathroom for fuck’s sake just to survive! And here he was, a god among men, smiling and friendly, and… and fuck him! “Ya. It happens sometimes.” He looked embarrassed now and slightly ashamed, like he had done something wrong. I felt like shit. He couldn’t help how fucking gorgeous he was with his thick cords and bulges, his perfect skin that any cosmetics company would want to know the secret too, his piercing steely eyes, his perfect body hair…it wasn’t his fault and I had just blamed him and made him feel ashamed of himself. I looked away. It was my turn to feel ashamed. He walked across the room toward me with some clean shorts and a tank top in his hand. He held them out to me with a look of concern on his face. He was worried about me and he was worried that I was angry with him. “Are you OK, Brad? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have undressed you and cleaned you up. I was just trying to help.” “Please don’t apologize Ian. It’s me, not you. I guess I am just a little overwhelmed by how different our lives seem to have gotten since I moved here all those years ago.” “How so? You know you can tell me anything, Brad. Anything. You are still the best friend I have ever had.” I reached out and grabbed the clothes from his outstretched huge arm, pulled the shorts on and put on the tank top. My thinness was on display. I sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to me in a gesture to invite him to sit down next to me. He took his spot on the bed and looked at me with so much compassion and concern in his eyes. I could barely speak. I started mumbling a few times, but couldn’t get out more than a few words without stopping. I wasn’t crying, I just didn’t know where to start. No one made me feel as comfortable as Ian and I had told no one about my horrible school experiences. He put is massive ripped arm around my small narrow shoulders. “Take your time, Brad. Just take your time.” I began telling him about elementary school, about my friends there and how they abandoned me in junior high. I told him about the meanness that I encountered because of my small size. I told him about being gay. He just left his arm around my shoulders and looked at my face. I couldn’t even make eye contact with him, but I knew he was paying attention to every word I was saying. About halfway through my story, he pulled me in tighter, right into the space between his bicep and his overdeveloped chest. I felt safe, finally. Eventually, I told him about how I thought I must be sick with some weird disease. I would have almost debilitating muscle soreness and no one knew why. He just listened and didn’t say a word for over an hour, all the while holding me in the muscled pocket of his hard armpit. At the end of the story, he gave me a squeeze. “So you see, our lives couldn’t be more different. If you want to leave after hearing about all of that, you can. It would be harder if you stayed and were weird about it.” “Nothing you have said makes me feel ‘weird’, Brad. Some things in our lives are maybe more similar than you would think.” That’s all he said at the moment so I left it at that. If he wanted to share some of his secrets with me, he would do so in his own time. I respected that. It just felt so good to have my best friend back. “You want to come to the gym with me? We could start you on a program to put some size on you, if you want.” “Ummmmm…maybe. I’ll go with you and see how I feel. It’s a bit intimidating--the gym.” We walked out of the room, down the stairs, and out to the Jeep. What a mismatched pair we were. But it didn’t matter. Arriving at one of the local muscle gyms, we walked in and were greeted at the front desk by fucking John. I didn’t know he worked there. Shit. “Hey, man. Could we get two visitor’s passes for the day? My buddy and I would like to get a workout in this afternoon.” John looked me directly in the eye. I couldn’t figure out what the look on his face meant, but it wasn’t friendly. “Sure. Just sign in here. It’s $5 for a visitor’s pass, but I’ll waive it for you,” John said looking at Ian. Ian signed his name and moved out of the way so I could sign in as well. I wrote down my name on the ledger. “That’ll be $5 for a visitor’s pass.” He looked at me with a smugness I was surprised at. I took out my wallet, embarrassed that Ian was getting a free pass and I had to pay. My face flushed red and I went into my billfold to grab the cash. Ian had been looking into the weight room and hadn’t seen the interaction between John and myself. He glanced back just as I was about to hand John my money. “Hey! Why are you making him pay?” There was a certain tone in Ian’s voice that made me believe that he was more than a little annoyed. “You didn’t make me pay. Why are you making him?” “Its OK, Ian,” I said quietly. “No, it isn’t. Fuck that. Why are you making him pay?” He reached into his own wallet and handed John a $10 bill. “That’s for both of us, asshole.” He put the money on the counter, his eyes boring into John’s. I was shell-shocked. Ian had just burned the most popular guy in our high school class. All I could think was, “We aren’t in high school anymore, John. You’re in a bigger pond with much bigger fish.” I kept that comment to myself. Ian looked down at me and simply said, “Let’s go, Brad.” We walked through the weight room into the locker room. The next hour of my life was insanely intense. Ian didn’t even workout much himself. He spent the entire time helping me learn different basic lifts. He coached me on form, on beginning routines, and we talked about nutrition. His workout time had turned into my personal training session. I was terrified that the next day I wouldn’t be able to move. I voiced my concern to Ian, since I had terrible muscle pain frequently. “Maybe you will, Brad. Maybe. But maybe not. I never have been sore after I lift.” “Not once?” “Never. And it’s not for lack of trying. I have tried to workout so hard that I couldn’t feel my legs or arms when I left the gym. But the next day, nothing. Not even a little ache. So, I guess it depends on how your body will deal with the lifting.” We left the gym after downing a couple of protein shakes that Ian had brought in his gym bag. Walking past the counter, John shot me a sharp look and then went on to stare at Ian’s massive frame walking along side of me. I couldn’t blame him. The rest of the evening, we just hung out at the house catching up on life, ate dinner with my parents, and settled in for a relaxing evening. My parent’s went to bed early so Ian and I stayed in the family room watching TV. It was so nice to feel that at ease with someone. I hadn’t had that feeling since the 5th grade. Ian kept looking at me though. I could tell he wanted to say something. A certain feeling of uncomfortability began to creep into the room. I could just feel it. The TV show ended and we just sat there in the room on the couch. “Ready for bed, Ian?” “Sure. Let’s go up to your room.” He smiled at me and led the way. He knew how much I liked staring at his ass. I am sure of it. I crawled into my big bed. He started blowing up the air mattress. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He had stripped down to a pair of red tight boxer briefs that showed the separation of his beautiful ass cheeks and left little to the imagination with regard to his apparently huge cock. I felt myself getting aroused again watching him inhale deeply, shoulders rising, pecs jutting out…and then exhaling into the mouth valve on the air mattress. It was the sexiest thing I had seen—ever. So much power in that thick hard body. And it was almost naked three feet away from me. “Whoa…I think I’m going to give it a rest for a minute. I’m getting light headed.” I just smiled. He smiled back. “You know, you could just sleep in my bed. It is a king size. I don’t take up much room, obviously.” He looked at me with a certain seriousness on his face. “Not if you feel uncomfortable though,” I quickly added. I didn’t want my gigantic friend to think I was hitting on him…not yet anyway. “Um…OK. But I have to sleep in the nude. I can’t sleep if I have clothes on.” My cock shot to attention again but I don’t think Ian noticed. “That’s fine…just don’t attack me in my sleep. I know you want to!” I jested with him, trying to diffuse the sexually tense situation happening in my mind. Ian stood up straight, put his thumbs under the waistband of his underwear and eased them down. I could see the elastic stretching thin as the band worked its way over his globular glutes. Fuck, they were big and round and hard. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He just stared at me. He worked his tight briefs off and down the huge quads of his and stood there in all of his 8”-soft glory. My breath caught in my throat. He just chuckled softly, reached down and grabbed the top sheet on the bed and worked his way under the covers. I could feel his heat radiating over to my much smaller, quivering body. I turned the light switch off next to the bed and the room fell into darkness. I was so tired—exhausted really. But at the same time, I didn’t want to miss out on the feeling of having this god of muscle only inches away from me…naked. NAKED. I could smell the clean scent of man rising from him. I could smell testosterone oozing from his pores. I could smell the singular scent of his clean hole calling to me. I wanted to bury my face in his ass crack and make him squeal as I rimmed him into ecstasy. I could taste him… My erection stiffened even more. I didn’t know it was possible. I let out a muffled moan and I saw his face turn toward me, only a few inches away. I reached onto the nightstand next to me and grabbed a wad of tissue paper and tried to sneak it under the covers. I was going to cum again. I felt my balls churning my seed. I thought I could cum and be quiet about it. I had the tissue paper ready to soak up my creamy emissions. Ian wasn’t asleep. I could tell by his breathing. But, I was being so careful. Maybe he didn’t know what I was doing. I could only hope. I couldn’t hold on much longer. I felt that trip switch that happens before the cum cannon begins to shoot: the point of no return. I could feel my inner parts start to pump their sticky juices in preparation for an epic explosion. I let out another stifled groan- trying to be as quiet as I could. I wrapped my hard throbbing cock in Kleenex and let myself cave into my more beastly nature. I felt my man juices rise through the canals inside of me, racing their way to freedom and into the receptiveness of my right hand. At the moment of climax, I heard a deep guttural breath come from Ian. The first volley of cum had shot out of my throbbing hot cock and I could feel the other ready for launch. Then I heard words that increased the power coursing through my body by one-hundred… “I’m gay too.” Ian had whispered the words at the moment of my orgasm. My body bucked and gyrated. I let out a growl that I was shocked could come from such a weak and thin body. Ian just chuckled and let me finish. “I just wanted you to know, and this seemed like the perfect time.” I was still reeling from the most powerful orgasm I had ever had as well as the knowledge that my fucking monster of a friend was naked, next to me, and gay himself. My head couldn’t handle it, but my body tried. My cock was drained, but it kept trying to spew more cum out. It was like dry heaves but for my cock…and it felt good. “Good night, Brad.” Ian rolled over on his side and fell into a deep sleep. His light snoring told me so. I lay there, sticky, hot, sweating…thunderstruck. I drifted off as well. I woke up early the next morning. Ian was still lying next to me, his skin touching mine lightly—our legs were touching. It felt amazing. I stretched, expecting to feel horrible pain and soreness from the intense workout the day before. I felt so energized and couldn’t even feel a slight ache. I was sure that I would be in a world of hurt. Ian stirred next to me and let out a low grumble. He sounded like a lion in pain. “Fuck, Brad. I can barely move. My whole body hurts. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” I sat up in bed and looked over at him, concerned. He looked at me as his eyes popped out of his head. “Holy shit, Brad. Look at your abs.” Go to page 5 for Part II.
  4. Sorry for the wait, in case you need a refresher here is Blue Pill Part 19 And without further ado I give to you Blue Pill Part 20 Although she had just fed, Sarah was hungrier than she had ever been before. The smell that hit her as soon as she opened the door to the gym was intoxicating, like pure male essence. It was the aroma of sweat and testosterone that caused her newly formed dick to harden down the leg of her short running shorts. The head of her dick just barely held within the confines of her shorts. She began to sniff the air, walking down the hallway, following the smell to where it was the strongest. This led Sarah to a heavy steel door, which she quickly pushed open to reveal an even more intense cloud of the stench that led here there from the hallway. It was so thick it was almost as if you could swim in it. Sarah felt something wet drip onto her foot and as she looked down to inspect where it came from, she saw another drop forming at the edge of her boxers. The smell had her so turned on that she was hornier than she ever remembered being before. Sarah was surprised to find the locker room was practically empty, minus the few gym bags sitting outside of their lockers. She walked up to one of the gym bags that was setting open atop the bench. She looked in and found a used jock sitting on top. Sarah reached into the gym bag and pulled out the jock. It was still warm and sweaty from the previous wearer, as if it had just been discarded. She brought the jock up to her nose, smelling the amazing aroma of sweat and testosterone with a hint of cum. Sarah stuck the jock in her mouth sucking on the sweat and cum. As she was sucking she felt a surge of strength run through her body and felt her dick pulse in her running shorts. She looked down to see that the head of her dick was now just barely peeking out of the edge of her shorts. As she was looking down at her dick, she noticed that her entire body looked pumped. She ran her hand along the shaft of her penis, earning her a glob of pre-cum once she reached the head. Hormones were racing through her brain telling her she needed to get off and soon. Sarah heard the sound of a shower turning on through the doorway at the end of the row of lockers. She headed towards the doorway with a hunger in her eyes and a raging hardon in her shorts. " Time to feed" she growled to herself... When Riley had first arrived to the gym, his gut was full and swollen with Derek's cum. He knew he needed to do something to get the size of his beach ball belly to go down and after reading the note that was left for Derek about how it would be beneficial for him to work out, he decided the best place for that would be Frank's Gym. It was always filled with meatheads and hardcore weights. Riley was in his jock and a pair of sweats he had found in the school locker room and He was wearing a t-shirt that said 'Fletcher Valley Athletic Department'. It was a little loose on him, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be that way for long. He looked out across the gym floor and found a handful of guys lifting. They ranged in size from amateur bodybuilder to Olympia sized. The biggest being Damien, he was easily a 300-pound wall of shredded beef, ready to dominate his next bodybuilding competition. He was a 6-foot-tall wall of dark chocolate and he was walking straight towards Riley. Riley began to panic. He wondered if the behemoth had seen him staring or if he was just overthinking. Jason's heart began racing faster and faster as each titanic footfall of the giant caused his meaty pecs to bounce. His massive Quads rolling over each other as they fought for space inside the weak confines of his gym shorts. Riley couldn't believe his eyes when they finally fell upon the obscene bulge in Damien's shorts. He had seen some decent sized packages in the school locker room. Chris's came to mind right away, but what was in front of him now had to be as big as Chris's cock was when it was hard, and it was completely soft. As Damien got right up next to me he leaned down to say something in my ear. His deep baritone filled my soul, as I had a hard time registering what he was saying. "Yeah, I saw you lookin. You're gonna need about another 100 pounds before you can handle what I got to give. Come find me when you do though, I'd love to fill your bowl with my cream." He stood back up to his full height and I watched his face as a huge toothy grin formed on his face as he gave me a wink. He reached down to adjust his package which Jason swore was bigger than just a moment ago. As Damien walked past Riley, He turned to watch Damien as he stared directly at Riley's ass. He seductively licked his lips as he headed into the gym locker room. To say that Riley felt on fire would be an understatement, he felt like hormones were flooding his entire being. Not only that, but his cock was rock hard. He knew he needed to focus. If what the note said was true, he needed to start lifting so he could absorb all the muscle cum that was in his belly. Riley decided to start with arms, so he headed over to a long row of dumbbells in front of a large gym mirror. He grabbed the 25's to start as a warm up and headed over to the isolation bench. As he was walking over to the bench Riley watched his arms in the mirror as the sinewy muscle lightly flexed to support the weight in his hands. He flexed his arm straight down causing a slight bulge to appear on the back of his arm from his triceps. Riley sat at the isolation bench and began doing curls. At first the weight was a little heavy, but began to get easier to lift as he did more reps. Once he had 25 reps done he switched to his other arm and began lifting again. Riley watched as veins began to surface on his arm and his goose egg of a bicep began expanding, just a little bit more with each rep. With his biceps now feeling warmed up, he brought the weight behind his head and began one armed triceps-extensions. He really had to push at the beginning to get the weight up, but as he continued it got easier and easier with each rep. Riley did 25 with each arm and stood up to take the weights back. This time as he passed himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but gawk at his reflection. His arms were pumped just from his warm-up. Riley started the work out with 15-inch arms, but they were looking much closer to the 15-inch range and this time when he flexed his arm straight down, he was rewarded with an actual horse-shoe bulge on the back of his arm. The boner that had started to go down during his lifts sprang back to life as he admired his pump in the mirror. "Fuck yeah! I'm getting pumped" Riley growled to himself in the mirror. "So fucking hot!" Riley put the weights back and walked further down the row of weights, this time picking up the 50's. Riley had never done anything heavier for isolation curls than 35. He could feel the heaviness of the weight in his hands as he headed back to the bench. Riley sat down and began pumping out rep after rep. As the weight got lighter with each rep, his arm began to bulge with some serious muscle. Veins that had appeared during his warm-up were now thickening and branching out all across his swollen bicep. The hard knot on his arm was now about the size of a baseball. Riley then continued the same process with his other arm. During this entire process Riley's raging hard on had begun leaking copious amounts of pre-cum into his jock. Knowing that he was going to have some difficulty doing single arm triceps extensions with 50 pounds, He decided to do just a regular triceps extension using both arms and the 50-pound dumbbell. It was a struggle at first, but just like with his biceps it got easier with every rep he did. Riley lost track of how many extensions he did until he realized that the weight he was using felt as light as the 25 pounders. Riley stood up to take the weight back. This time what he saw in the mirror was a complete and total surprise, the arms that he now possessed were at least 16 inches and wrapped in veins. He couldn't believe how big he was getting. The thought caused his cock to flex in his sweats, which brought his attention to a wet spot that had begun to form where the head of his dick was. Riley reached down and ran his hand along his shaft, as he flexed his cock in his hand. He continued flexing his cock in his hand, as he brought his other arm up into a flex as well. This caused his cock to react by surging in his hand, the head of his cock was now poking out of his jock and shot a wad of precum on the inside of his sweat pants. More turned on then he ever remembered being in his life, Riley headed over to the bench press and loaded the bar with weight for a warm-up. He laid under the bar and brought the weight down to graze his nipples. He then pushed the weight back up. Riley cranked out rep after rep as he began to get a pump from his warm up. Riley began losing sight of his erect nipples as his pecs began inflating with blood. Riley decided it was time to put some serious weight on the bar. He got up and loaded the bar with 300 pounds and got back under the bar. The most Riley had ever benched before this was 150 and that was a struggle. Riley felt confident this time as he lifted the bar, he slowly brought the bar down, feeling the muscle fibers in his pecs stretch and scream in pain as they were forced to lift twice as much as they ever had before. The weight finally reached his pecs and he pushed with all his might to get the weight back up. Once it was back at the top, he brought the weight back down, this time not as much resistance from his pecs. Every time Riley brought the weight down he didn't have to go as far as his pecs swelled thicker with each rep. After what felt like an eternity, Riley finally re-racked the weight and sat up on the bench. Right away Riley could tell a huge difference in his pecs, the weight of his bulbous man breasts pulled heavily on the fabric of his shirt. Riley stood to look at himself in the mirror. "OH SHIT" Riley couldn't believe how big his pecs had become. "I might have done too many bench presses." Riley realized, too late of course, that his pecs were out of proportion with the rest of his body. They almost looked like breasts if it weren't for his slight pouch of a belly he had left. Riley ran his hand up along the curve of his bulbous pec muscle and moaned out loud on the gym floor as his hand rubbed across his pert nipple. A couple of the muscle heads turned to catch a glimpse of Riley and his increasing wet spot in his sweat pants. Realizing that he needed to balance out his body, Riley headed over to the squat rack last. One of the big meat heads must have been using it last, because they didn't take their weights off the bar. The bar was loaded with 500 pounds. Riley was feeling stronger than he ever felt and his rock-hard cock told him that he could lift that fucking weight. Riley braced himself underneath the bar and went to lift the weight up when the big muscle head that had been lifting there headed over to stop Riley. "Hey bro, that weight is way too heavy for your chicken legs, how about we start you off with something a little lighter?" "I'm going to crush this weight!" Riley growled with a fire in his eyes. "Well then, I'm at least going to spot you, I would hate for you to crush yourself under my watch. Names Ben by the way, I'm the manager of Frank's gym." "Enough talk Ben, let's lift some fucking weight." Riley lifted the bar up before Ben was positioned behind him. Riley could feel Ben's hard biceps against the back of his newly minted triceps. The breath on the back of his neck made him even hornier if that was even possible. "FUUUUCCCCKKKKK" Riley moaned/yelled as he squatted down with the weight, he could feel Ben's crotch against his ass as he pushed back in the bottom of the lift, then Riley began pushing the unbelievably heavy weight back up. At the top of the lift, Riley could feel Ben's biceps tense against his triceps as he was trying to get Riley to re-rack the weight. "Great job man, I..." "Did I say I was done yet?!?" As Riley squatted down again, with Ben following him down. The legs of Riley's sweatpants were becoming increasingly tight around his ever-enlarging thighs and he could feel his ass pushing back more into Ben's crotch. Riley flexed his ass at the bottom of the squat. This elicited a moan out of his spotter as he could feel Ben's dick hardening against his rock-hard ass cheeks. Once at the top of the lift, Riley started another squat. Riley could feel the power in his legs increasing as they blew up in size. He could feel his sweat pants becoming too tight against his straining cock and his ballooning ass. Before he could stop himself from humiliation, he heard the ass of his sweats give out with a loud rip. He could feel cool air hit his hole as it was exposed between the straps of his jock. Ben felt the head of his cock through his gym shorts push past Riley's rock-hard ass cheeks to his exposed hole. Riley felt Ben's cockhead through his shorts as it pushed against his hole. Riley decided to hold the weight there for a little longer. Ben rubber the head of his cock against Riley's hole. Riley's legs strained to hold the weight, but they grew larger by the second during the strain, making it easier the longer he held it. "Fuck man, I can't. You have got a really hot ass and I have never had these feelings for another guy before. I'm straight man I'm sorry." Ben pulled his cock head back from Riley's ass and stepped back. Riley stood back up with the weight and re-racked it. Riley turned around to face Ben. He stood almost eye to eye with Ben. Ben had the most beautiful hazel eyes and short military cut hair. His face was chiseled and manly looking. He had to be about 260 pounds. He was a big boy. Riley looked down and realized that’s not all that was big on Ben. His arms and pecs were massive, but what really pulled Riley's attention is what was poking at his hole just moments ago. Riley reached down and wrapped his hand around it, massaging the head. Ben moaned loudly as he closed his eyes and rolled his head back. Riley leaned his body in against Ben's, "Wh..what are you doing?" Ben stuttered as Riley leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. Ben moaned into Riley's mouth as Riley felt Ben's cock swell in his hand as it anticipated releasing its load. Riley stepped away from Ben before he could cum. Ben's eyes were still closed in a moment of bliss."FUCK! That was so fucking hot! Why did you stop?" "You're straight remember." Riley replied with a devilish grin." Besides, I'm done with my workout. Thanks for the spot Ben. Hopefully we can lift together again." Riley gave Ben a wink as he headed for the lockers, holding the ass of his sweats together as best he could. "HEY, WAIT! I never got your name!" Ben shouted after Riley. "If you want my name you'll have to see me again to get it." Riley headed into the locker room and began taking off all his clothes. He admired the way he struggled to get his shirt up over his massive pecs. Riley moaned as the hem of the shirt snagged on his nipples. Riley removed the remains of his sweats to reveal a raging hard on he wasn't expecting. It was about a half inch bigger than he was used to and quite a bit thicker. "Well this isn't covering anything anymore." Riley said as he removed his jockstrap and set it on top of his gym bag. Riley couldn't believe how big he had gotten. He must weigh at least 190 now. He heard the locker room door open on the other side of his lockers. Riley thought it might be Ben, so he wanted to make Ben work for it a little bit, so he turned and quietly slipped into the sauna before he came around the lockers. "God I can't wait to make love to the beautiful man!"
  5. This is the first of a two part story. I had written this back in October as a story to amuse myself. I never thought I would put it out there for the world to read... but since you have all have welcomed my other stories so kindly... here it is!!! I rewrote some of it to give it better flow, etc. The second part is a little crazier... involving more transformation, muscle, destruction, etc. If you aren't into that... let this part be what you read and that is it. This has an ending. If you are into stuff a little wilder... I'll post Part 2 soon!! I hope you enjoy it!!!! Comments and suggestions always welcome!! Tell Me You’re Mine PART ONE I watched as Richard tried once again to fight against the ties that bound him to the leather/wooden cross. I couldn’t deny that he looked hot naked, handcuffed, and with a ball gag in his mouth. No, I scolded myself!! Don’t look at him. Don’t think about him. He’s a means to an end and that is all!!! I leaned once again over the smoke coming from the silver bowl and inhaled... the sharp odour calming my nerves. Soon this would all be over. Soon I would have what I desired. This wasn’t how it originally started. I had gotten home from the gym, horny as fuck with the knowledge that tonight was the night I had been waiting and preparing for for years. I hopped on the hook-up app I often used for quick fucks, hoping he would be on... and I wasn’t disappointed. There he was... Richard from the gym... built, young, cocky, and obviously out for NSA fun. It had been a while since I had seen him at the gym, but perhaps that had been for the best. My pic on my profile was recent, but the lighting might have made me look a little buffer and a little younger then I really was. As I began sending a message to Richard, three guys hit me up at once. Quickly looking at their profiles… one of them was passable and might be an option... but no... only Richard would do. I sent my message and waited to hear back. It wasn’t long before he had taken the bait. I was older then Richard by about ten years, but my picture shows me at my best: an athletic man with black hair and ice blue eyes. Our initial conversation went well, so I decided to simply go for it and asked him if he wanted to play. Sending my location, Richard was glad to know my home was only six blocks away from his own... a fact I already knew. Yeah, this had all the makings of a perfect quick hook-up for him... we could each get off and he would have plenty of time to meet-up with some friends. When I showed him my dick pic... that sealed the deal. He would be over in ten. When Richard arrived, he commented on the slight silver at my temples and stated that it was a sexy addition, and one he approved off. I took his coat, offered him a glass of very fine red wine, and then we began kissing on the couch. Now, my body is not as muscular as Richard’s, and I’m not as tall as he is, but I do have a tight runners build that was obvious, by the bulge in his pants, that he respected. Also, once we had stripped out of our clothes and were naked, I was able to prove, to his eager mouth, that I truly was sporting an XL endowment. After nearly fifteen minutes of kissing... deep and passionately, Richard wanted to move it to the bedroom, but I let him know I had other plans. How adventurous was Richard feeling? Sure I could easily fuck him... but why not put a little handcuff play into the action... I could see the wheels in his head spinning behind his eyes. No, Richard, he was thinking. That’s how guys get killed… I hardly know this guy. But, the leaking of his cock was screaming: Yes!!!! This guy is totally normal!! His cock won out. Richard took a gulp of his wine, texted a friend where he was just in case he disappeared… always a smart move, and followed me down the hallway. The room, the prize of my house, was a large conservatory that I had converted into a personal library with shelves and shelves of hardback books, some intricately bound and other centuries old. They were the result of my decades of research, and I knew each one practically by heart. The ceiling is over thirty-five feet high, and the sun can easily be blocked out with shades that moved electronically. I knew he was impressed by the sheer size of the room, joking it was bigger then three of his apartments. What really took Richard’s attention were the tools of my play: masks, hoods, gags, handcuffs, dildos of all sizes, and a multitude of paddles and whips. The collection was lit by several dim pin lights, but my prize was what took centre stage: an imposingly large wooden cross padded with leather, raised up on its own circular platform. Nervous, but ultimately turned on as well, Richard took in the entire room in awe. His laughter echoing in the enormous room, he said he had never read 50 Shades of Grey... or seen the film... but he had heard of the ‘Red Room’ and imagined it had to be something like this. I told him I hoped mine was a little classier then Christian Grey’s. Quietly I came up behind him and began to gently kiss his neck, my arms wrapped around him, my hands stroking his abs. ⁃ I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m usually pretty vanilla. ⁃ We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable. ⁃ No! No... I want to. ⁃ Are you sure? I want everything to be totally consensual. Richard lowered my hand down to the his hard cock signalling the affirmation of his desires. I turned Richard around and pulled him toward me, our bodies pressing together while we passionately kissed. Within moments and with expert hands, I was exploring every inch of his body, traveling my tongue over every muscle. Richard’s cock began to leak pre-cum again as his excitement mounted. Lapping it up with my tongue, I succeeded in taking Richard’s entire cock in my mouth, deep throating him like a champ. Richard placed his hands on the back of my head and began to massage my scalp, tremors of ecstasy running through him. ⁃ Let me worship your body. It’s so beautiful, so built. I want to lick every inch of it. ⁃ Do it!! I looked into Richard’s eyes and pushed him toward the cross. Willingly, Richard allowed his arms to be placed on the cross bars, and he let out a low moan as I grabbed his hands and locked them swiftly and dominantly into the handcuffs. I did the same at his feet. Then, to make the picture complete, I covered his eyes with a leather mask. As promised, I worshiped, licked, and sucked every inch of Richard’s quivering and flexing body. My tongue traveled into crevices no tongue had ever reached, and Richard bucked his pelvis uncontrollably as an orgasm appeared on the horizon. I wrapped my mouth around Richard’s cock and brought him closer and closer to explosion. Seconds away from coming in my mouth, I pulled back and looked up at Richard. ⁃ You like that? ⁃ Yeah!!! ⁃ Want me to finish you off? ⁃ Oh yeah!!! ⁃ Tell me you’re mine. ⁃ What? ⁃ Tell me you’re mine. ⁃ Fuck!! I’m yours! Do it!!!! I attached myself to Richard’s cock again, and with my hand began to massage his balls. Unable to hold on much longer and entirely under my sway, Richard felt his balls rise up in his sack. ⁃ I’m gonna... I’m... I removed my mouth seconds before Richard shot and captured his release in a small silver bowl I had hidden near the base of the cross. Using my hand, I milked more and more cum from his balls until Richard cried out that he couldn’t take anymore. Beginning to already go soft, Richard’s masked face looked down at me and smiled. ⁃ Fuck, man!!! Richard chuckled as he shook his head. I stood up, took off the mask, looked at Richard, and kissed him once again. His cock started to get hard again, but playtime was over. Richard watched in silence as I walked to the side of the room and opened a cabinet. Inside was a large copper bowl. Removing it, I walked back over to Richard. Placing the bowl on the floor, I looked up at him with a grin and quickly bound Richard’s waist to the cross with thick rope that had been lying on the floor, hidden in the shadows. When that was complete, I removed a sponge from the bowl, and starting with Richard’s feet, began to wash him with the mixture of goat milk and other herbs I had prepared the night before. The mixture was warm to the touch and had a spicy smell emanating from it. ⁃ Damn that smells good. Very sexy. What are you doing, man? I looked up at him, his cock hard and throbbing, a grin on his face. ⁃ I’m cleansing you. ⁃ What? ⁃ Cleansing you. Preparing you. ⁃ For what? ⁃ For the ritual. You will be the soul I give in place of mine. Richard laughed, believing that I was joking, but when he looked in my eyes, he knew I was totally serious. He attempted to free himself as I began to wash him again, covering his softening penis with the sponge. ⁃ You’re fucking with me… right man? You’re totally fucking with me!!!! Silence. I began to wash Richard’s abs. Richard was attempting to loosen himself from his binds but found it was virtually impossible. Panicking, I could hear his heart racing in his chest. He tried to reason with me as I began to cover his pecs with the milky substance. ⁃ Please let me go man. ⁃ You gave yourself to me. ⁃ We were fucking around!! You know we were! I didn’t give you anything! ⁃ I asked and you responded. You even gave me your seed. You are mine. ⁃ HELP!!! SOMEONE!!! HELP!!! ⁃ No one can hear you. Believe me. But if you’re going to be difficult... I walked to the opposite wall and pulled a ball gag from its place. Upon my return, Richard attempted to move his head from side to side, but in my position now I was a little stronger and a lot faster. Eventually, Richard was gagged. Screaming over the ball was useless, and trying to move his head away from me proved futile as I concluded the cleansing by covering his neck and face with the milk. When he was completely covered, I took the bowl and poured the remaining over Richard’s head, cascading over his hair and dripping down his muscular body. Swiftly, knowing time was of the essence, I moved to another cabinet, removed red and black candles and began to place them strategically around the room. When that was completed and all 36 were lit, I returned to Richard with a pot of black paint and a paintbrush. With expert hand, I began to use Richard’s body as a canvas, covering it with intricate symbols that only a very few could read. These were runes forged at the beginning of time, instructions of how to carry out my desires. Richard tried to cry out again, but I found he was becoming weaker over time with fear. It took nearly thirty minutes, but with my expert hand, the job was complete and Richard’s entire body was covered in markings. I moved away and stared at my work admiringly. For so long I had prepared for this... for years... and now it would actually be happening. I left the room for a moment and returned with a large brass bowl filed with kindling. Placing this down in front of Richard, I struck a match and lit it. From a shelf on one of the bookcases, I returned with both a silver bowl and a silver knife. Walking up to Richard, I began to chant the invocation under my breath while moving the knife in elaborately choreographed movements. Trailing the knife in patterns on his chest, Richard barely felt the moment when I cut him just below his left pec. As the blood flowed, I captured it in the silver bowl. It was by no means a mortal wound nor one that might leave a scar. Even if it had been mortal, in a few minutes it wouldn’t matter to Richard. Nothing would matter to Richard. As the blood continued to drip, I captured some on my hand. With this, I began to stroke Richard’s penis again. Despite being in total fear for his life, Richard’s cock was hard once again. Stroking him faster and faster until he came a second time, I allowed his ejaculation to merge with his blood in the silver bowl. From the first bowl, the bowl with his first ejaculation, I used his semen to pain the last symbol, the one that would let Astaroth know that Richard was mine. When finished, I poured the rest of the ejaculation into the other bowl and sat myself on the floor behind the open flames. Placing the silver bowl on top of the burning wood, I began the Invocation, calling the most powerful of all demons to me. The incense and herbs I threw into the silver bowl began to float on the air. My volume was raised as I became more and more frantic, wrapped up in the incantation I was weaving. I could feel the energy in the room changing; I could feel that he was here. He simply just needed to show himself. Finally, after waving the silver knife in different directions, I stood up, and raising the bowl over my head, I screamed the demon’s name. Over and over I called for him... ⁃ Astaroth!!! Astaroth... most powerful... even more powerful then his father, Lucifer! Astaroth… hear your servant!!! Astaroth... receive my gift... Astaroth… find me worthy!!! Astaroth!!! Fill me with your power!!!... Over and over again I repeated this chant until the room grew cold, there was a great wind, and the candles all blew out simultaneously. A moment passed... then two... when suddenly all of the candles were lit once again by some supernatural hand. I kneeled down on the floor and began the invocation once again with even more passion and fervour. He was close… so close… this was the furthest I had ever gotten before. A pillar of smoke began to rise from the silver bowl, growing thicker and thicker, filling up the room, until a long clawed hand shot out from within it. I watched in anticipation as a face made entirely of fire emerged from the smoke. On top of the demon’s head were thick ram horns the curled upward. Pulling its way out of the smoke, the creature emerged fully formed. The smell that came with the creature, a mixture of rotten eggs and death, made me feel both physically ill and excited at the same time. I had prepped for this moment... and now it was here. The concept that this was actually happening hit me again as Astaroth moved toward Richard. As it walked, it left behind burnt hoof prints in the stone floor. Still existing on two planes, the creature looked to be created from both flesh as well as the thick smoke that trailed behind it. Eventually, as it gained strength, it succeeded in fully crossing over into our realm. Once the flames that had covered its body disappeared, it’s skin looked horribly burnt, but the longer it remained in this world, the more like human flesh began to appear. It wasn’t tall... maybe 5’6, and walked on black hoofed feet. It’s legs were entirely covered in long jet black hair, but this didn’t hide the immense penis that erupted from its crotch. It’s chest was also covered in hair, but it was quite muscular, a tight firm body any man would have wanted. The only difference was that it had a human eyeball in place of each nipple. These eyes looked independently around the room, leaking tears of flame. It’s face... perhaps at one time had been human, but now most of the flesh had been burnt away revealing a skull that appeared more wolf or jackal then human. It’s eyes glowed blood red and were reptile-like. From its snout, sharp long fangs emerged, and instead of a tongue, a living snake. What remained of its hair was long and black, and traveled from its head down its back. Finally, it dragged behind it a powerful serpent tail that left a trail of ooze wherever it lay. Moving toward Richard it sniffed him before moving its claws over the patterns that I had drawn there. After taking the time to read what I had placed on Richard’s body, it turned to me and spoke. ⁃ Egnahcxe ni tseuqer uoy od tahw? The creatures voice was serpentine yet quite deep, with smoke emerging as it spoke. Expecting this, I held a large mirror high above my head. From within the glass, smoke began to blossom until it exploded outward repeating Astaroth’s words: ⁃ What do you request in exchange? ⁃ I want power. ⁃ Elaborate. ⁃ Make over my body. Sculpt it as mighty as can be. Form my sex into a colossal tower. Let me stand above the masses, forever young, forever virile, forever healthy, preaching our master’s name. In exchange, I give you my slave. ⁃ And he comes willingly? ⁃ He is mine... proclaimed so by his own words and deeds. It was his seed that called you. It moved up to Richard and smelled him again. Too frightened to move, Richard allowed the serpent tongue to travel over his face, down his neck, and over his pecs. It was obvious the demon was examining him... but would he accept him in trade? ⁃ Yes... it is writ that he is yours to exchange. Richard tried to cry out, to deny that he was mine, but the gag made it impossible. Astaroth looked from me to Richard. The gag, the rope, and the handcuffs were suddenly released, and he was free. Wasting no time, Richard tried to run for the door, but Astaroth was too fast. In a split second, he had leaped onto Richard’s back and brought him down to the floor. Richard screamed out as Astaroth opened its mouth and began to insert Richard’s head in. Like a vacuum, it swallowed his shoulders, then his chest, his torso, his legs, and finally his feet. Within moments, Richard was gone. Throughout time, history rewrote itself, and Richard ceased to ever have lived... ever have existed... remembered by only me. His soul was now hell bound, sent in exchange of mine. Once Richard had been ingested, Astaroth turned its head to look directly at me. ⁃ The deal has been made, and the payment received!! Young and virile you forever will remain. Tall and mighty your body shall become, and a monument to our master your sex will be. Smoke flowed out of the silver bowl and slowly began to swirl and wrap itself around my body. My heart began to beat faster as my fate lay before me. What would Astaroth make of my instructions. What was I to become? What I had written on Richard’s body... was that possible? Could a human grow so massive... so tall... so powerful? For a second I feared what I had written. This room I stood in... my sanctuary would be like a dollhouse. Was this what I wanted??? Oh yes, I thought with a grin!!!! Yes!!!!!! As the smoke wove around my body faster and faster, an unholy cry began to pierce my head. ⁃ Screams! I hear screams! ⁃ Yes!!! It is the energy of the thousands of souls preparing to power your body. My penis got hard thinking about the power I was soon to possess, the smoke swirling around every inch of my cock. The smoke began to pick up speed until it was like a storm wrapping itself around my body. Lightening burst from the smoke and began to strike my body over and over again. I embraced the power invading me. I had never felt anything so incredible. The sound of the smoke storm was now so loud that I could barely hear myself think. Above the storm, even louder, were the screams of thousands of tortured souls crying out from hell. ⁃ You are willing to accept what gift I give you? ⁃ Yes!!! Fill me with ultimate power!! Make me mighty!! ⁃ As you request, so I do!!! The storm sped up even faster, covering me in a shroud of pure darkness. Suddenly and without warning a smoke tentacle broke away from the source and shot itself into my face, forcing its way into my body. Following its lead, more and more of the smoke storm rocketed its way into every inch of me. I welcomed it, trying to digest it all. Eventually, I had swallowed the entire thing, and those souls had taken up residency within me. ⁃ Yes!!! I can feel them within me!! I feel them changing me... altering me... so much power!! I never expected so much power!!! ⁃ But a taste. Now I complete you!! Astaroth released a jet of fire from its mouth, and once again it wrapped itself around me, this time with even more force then before. I wanted to shield my eyes from the bright flames swirling around my body, but it was impossible to not watch. This was the power that would change my body... my world forever!!! ⁃ Yes!!!! Give me even more power then I can imagine!!! The flame shot up in the air and then down into my open mouth. I wanted to scream out in ecstasy as my whole being quaked as it filled with what the demon had gifted me. What felt like an eternity lasted a few minutes as what had entered took root. Suddenly I was afraid of what I felt... I was afraid yet turned on by my desires. ⁃ I... I can feel my humanity being stripped away... I’m.... no... no... I’m no longer human... am I? ⁃ No. ⁃ What am I becoming? ⁃ Exactly what you requested. The earth will soon quake beneath your feet. The world will shudder when it sees you. Never has there been a more beautiful... more monstrous creature then you. All I could hear in the room was my own breathing and the thousands of souls preparing to power my transformation. No longer was I human. I had been stripped of that by this creature, but did I care... perhaps for a moment but that was all. I was too eager for my conversion to start. I breathed several times in and out... The power was welling up inside of me, ripping through my body and altering every cell. Uncontrollable spasms hit my body over and over again as the power prepared me... burning through me. Unexpectedly, the creature released a jet of fire from its mouth once again, this one longer then the first, and again it shot directly into my mouth. Screaming out, the onslaught forced me to the ground. What was this creature doing to me?! So much power existed inside my body now… much more then I had asked for. I was unable to control my limbs as I flailed on the ground receiving more energy then a nuclear bomb!! When the smoke cleared, the room was illuminated only from the red glow coming from... yes... coming from my eyes!! My eyes no longer saw as a human saw... but what was I becoming? When I spoke next, my voice was filled with steel. ⁃ Fifty thousand souls are prepared to fuel my transformation... to make me power incarnate!!! Shakily, my body still spasming over and over from this onslaught, I rose to my feet and faced off with the creature. Sporadically, flames would erupt from my body and a howling emerged from my mouth when I opened it. I was intoxicated by what I felt. This had far surpassed what I had imagined it would be like... yet like every addict, I knew what I wanted and that Astaroth had more to give. On shaking legs, I approached it. ⁃ Be careful what you ask for. ⁃ I need it all!!!! ⁃ Then take it!!! The creature smiled, flexing its muscles for me. Yes. He was the well from which I had to drink. I had the power of fifty thousand of souls in me prepared to fuel my metamorphosis, but I needed more!! Falling to my knees in front of it, I took my hand and placed it on the creature’s mighty shaft. Stroking it, it quickly rose to a swollen 15”, flames dripping from the head. As I nervously licked the head, one drop touched my tongue... my brain exploded as I witnessed in one second all of the power Astaroth held. Needing more, I wrapped my mouth around the mighty head and began to suck it, taking as much of the shaft down my throat as I could. Minutes passed. Astaroth’s claws dug into the back of my head forcing me to take much more of its cock then I thought I ever could. I could feel my body quaking with power as I mined for more. I sucked and stroked the shaft demanding it give me what I deserved. Eventually, Astaroth began to grunt and groan, breathing heavily due to my expert mouth. ⁃ Turn back now, human... while you can!!! This warning only caused me to suck and stroke harder until finally the creature reached orgasm, and unloaded its powerful load inside of me. As he deposited it in my stomach, I felt like I was being electrocuted. I no longer could control my body as I convulsed from the onslaught of what was being bestowed upon me. I continued to suck on its shaft, determined to drain it all… until with one mighty blow it threw me off its cock and to the middle of the room. I tried to stand but couldn’t. I had ingested too much power and my body was unprepared to digest it all. My whole body was pulsating with life. My entire body began to shift, to throb.. my skin began to bubble. This tapped force was attempting to surge out of my body, seeping my pores, releasing flames when it ruptured. My entire being had overdosed on power and was being ravaged by it. I felt lightheaded and sick to my stomach at the same time. I put my head in my hands and felt my face and skull give way as it pressed and merged around my hands. Never had I felt anything like this onslaught of power, and it was it was getting more powerful by the second. As I tried to stand again, my entire being began to smoke as if I were burning from within. I could only chuckle at what I was going to become, and knowing it was about to happen at any moment made my 8” cock go hard. From the reflection of the glass on the ceiling, I could see my eyes were shining a bright blue now. Soon… I could feel the power rising up within me as if my whole body was about to cum. It was getting stronger and stronger. A sudden burst of laughter erupted from my throat as I realised my time as Darren was over and that a new creature was going to take my place. ⁃ I will be the mightiest creature to walk this Earth!!! I will take what is rightfully mine!!!! I will exist at the top of the food chain!!! Nothing... will ever... stop me... AGAIN!!!!!!! My whole body suddenly stopped fluctuating and tensed up, my back muscles beginning to cramp. It felt as if hundreds of hot nails were being hammered into my traps at once. I released a scream that bounced around the room and was echoed by the thousands of souls within me. As I screamed, I could feel my back beginning to swell with muscle. Larger and more defined it became, and still it continued to grow. My collarbone and scapula made gruesome cracking noises as they fractured and then expanded, growing wider… my arms moving further away from my body. The pain was agonising but welcome. This is exactly how I had wanted it. My body was being tortured to make me even more mighty. For what seemed like hours, but was only minutes, my shoulders extended, becoming wider then any door, and showed no sign of slowing its growth. As the bones continued to stretch longer and thicker, my shoulder muscles began to join in the development of my traps. I was determined to stand, but the orgasmic rush of growth proved too much for me, and I fell once again to my knees. ⁃ My shoulders... my delts getting so round and thick!!! My whole upper body stretching wider and wider... my upper back... so filled with muscle and strength... my traps getting so concentrated... my... ARGH!!!! My upper body surged even wider. There would be no way possible that I could ever walk through a normal door again, my shoulders were simply too wide. My traps were riding higher and rounder on my shoulders giving me the look of a bull that I had always longed for. With a sudden eruption, my lats began to swell, pushing my arms even further from from my body. I couldn’t believe how quickly my upper back, shoulders and traps had become mountainous, and far from the realm of human possibility. With all of this muscle, it was as if four bodybuilders had been fused together to create my upper back, and still I continued to bulge and grow. ⁃ More!!! My hunger is insatiable. Make me bigger!! Make this body a monument to your strength!!! I cried out in orgasmic lust as my neck began to swell into a Grecian column of muscle. I tried to feel it with my hands, but they were now too far away and too short to even reach my neck!! Moving my head with ever growing difficulty, I could feel that it was so dense and muscle bound that it must look more like a quad then a neck!! As my traps continued to rise up higher and higher and started to fuse with my neck, my lats continued to widen until, to my joy, my upper back resembled that of a immense morphed cobra head. The horrific sound of cracking filled the room even louder then before as my arms and hands began to lengthen. ⁃ Fuck!!! Look at these arms??!! They’re getting longer then my legs!!! How big am I gonna be??!! ⁃ Monstrous. The creature hadn’t spoken until now, but simply watched with glee as my body was racked with pain and the birth of what I was becoming. I looked up when it spoke in shock, awe, and desire. ⁃ Freakish. Never on Earth will there have been one to rival your size or mastery. ⁃ Yes!!!!!!! Grow me!!! Stretch me!!! Don’t stop!!! Ever!!! Hearing my plea, my legs and feet began to lengthen along with my arms and hands. Although still top heavy, I could finally stand! My legs were so long and wobbly that I must have resembled a newborn pony. Standing for the first time, I was shocked at how tall I was, yet even more surprised when my hands dragged on the floor. The ceilings in the refurbished conservatory were over 35 feet high, and here I was standing a little above what I estimated at ten feet. I couldn’t help but laugh as I took in my new view of the world. ⁃ Look at me... towering above you... towering above everything!! I continued to get taller, my inhumanly wide and muscular back began to resemble a flesh-like shell, it was so mountainous with peaks and valleys of muscle. The thickness of my neck and traps made it virtually impossible to turn my head, and I found I had to turn my whole body if I needed to look around. I was being hit by the impracticalities of my new size, but I didn’t care. I revelled in them and I wanted more. I ceased to care about a normal life and wanted to exist purely as a creature of brute strength and muscle. I lifted my growing hand and marvelled at the sheer size of it. Each finger was much longer then my own head and thicker then three or four of my old fingers put together. My palm... fuck... that is where I gaped at the size... the palm of my hand was growing to become nearly as large as my own chest!!! As I continued hurling into my metamorphosis, I could feel this energy burning up inside of me. ⁃ The screaming in my head is getting louder... all of this dark energy erupting inside of me... fuelling me!!!! My torso soon joined in with my arms and legs, and loudly begun to elongate. The snapping and pulling of my body was soon so excruciating that my own screams merged with the moans of the souls erupting from me to create a symphony of terror. As my body developed taller and longer, I laughed through my pain thinking that I must resemble the urban legend of Slenderman made flesh. As the ground fell further away and the ceiling came closer, I tried to rationalise how tall I was becoming. Was I nearly fifteen feet tall now? The more my torso stretched, the quicker my arms and hands, legs and feet finally began to look in proportion to my body... but my own body was so out of proportion to every human on earth!!! Stumbling, I moved around the room on my stick legs, my enormous feet rocking the very foundation of my house. I’ll never be able to get out of this room without tearing the whole thing apart, I thought with excitement. How tall am I now?! The ceiling is getting so much closer!! I reached up my arm and found that I it wasn’t as far away as I thought it was!! Soon I would be able to easily touch it with the tips of my finger!!! Fuck!!! The ceiling that was too tall for a ladder, and soon I would touch it with my own hand... and still I grew. Contemplating how much larger I was to become, I felt an itching beginning to rise in both of my pecs. The itching became an irritation, and then the irritation became stabbing bolts of pain. I screamed out, a sound the whole neighbourhood must have heard as my pecs began to explode with size. Like two massive inflatable rafts attaching themselves to my body, my pectorals simply blossomed, quickly getting firmer and rounder. The sensation of feeling my blood engorged muscles grow made my head spin. Looking down as much as my neck would allow, I saw these massive globes coming to life, taking over the top half of my chest. I rubbed my hand over the right one, and nearly collapsed as my hand brushed over my nipple. My nipples had never been sensitive before, and I never understood nipple play, but now... fuck!!! Now I could!! With each beat of my heart, my pecs swelled larger and larger. Using both of my hands, I grabbed my nipples and I squeezed them. Colours formed in front of my eyes and my head spun with ecstasy. I squeezed them again and twisted them at the same time, releasing a low moan from my throat. They were the most sensitive things I had ever felt. As if they were trying to enrapture me to play with them more, they both suddenly began to get larger and thicker, the areola getting wider and browner, and the nipple bursting with size until they both were nearly the length of a human finger. My pecs, fuelled by my intense nipple play grew even mightier, extending feet from my chest. The sensation of feeling my blood engorged pecs grow fuller made me want to roar. I looked down at Astaroth who appeared so tiny now compared to me. ⁃ Look at my pecs... getting so full... so heavy with muscle. I can’t wait till my whole body feels this way... weighing thousands of pounds of muscle!!! ⁃ Thousands of pounds? Too small!! Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of pounds!! Your muscle mass making the very earth tremble!! No scale ever strong enough to weigh how heavy you really are. His words swam in my head as I watched my pecs beginning to find more room to grow on my body, rising up while being forced down at the same time. The gap between my pecs was so deep, but it also grew tighter as they took up more space. I took my hand and placed it down into the gap, and felt the pressure being forced on it by these two powerful masses. Soon I would be able to crumble boulders between my pecs, or splinter trees just from flexing them together. Never have pecs been so mighty My abs and lower back began to burst with muscle at the same time to prevent my upper body from collapsing down upon it. My back, lats, and traps were still gaining mass, and I could just imagine how I looked. My traps rose up to near my ears, now giving me the guise of either having no neck at all or one so massive that it rose simply from my back. My abs exploded one by one, but there was to be no simple six-pack for this body. With my hands I felt, since I couldn’t see anymore below my pecs, that my own body was mutating and I now possessed a twelve pac!! With my knowledge of the male anatomy, I was aware that most humans have, at most, eight muscle bellies making up their ab muscle, but here I was with my abdomen divided in 6, with each becoming thick and as dense as cinder blocks. Fuck!!! How I wanted a mirror in this room!! ⁃ As you command. Vanished were the walls of bookshelves and toys, my chamber was now composed entirely of mirrors. Every surface… every wall… even the floor and ceiling were mirrors. There wasn’t even a door anymore!! Everywhere I looked I saw me, and what I saw freaked and thrilled me!! Astaroth watched as I took in my half formed body. The first thing I noticed was my head. It had only grown a small amount with the rest of my body, and my eyes still glowed a bright blue with no pupils at all. My head was tightly wrapped in between my immense traps, which now rose mightily past my ears. My neck, larger then my waist, was barely visible, as my pecs and deltoids simply covered it up. Finally, my lats caused my upper body to curve away from my body but then taper back in. How wide was I? I had no way of knowing in inches or feet how big I was, but at this size, it simply didn’t matter. My upper body had to be larger and wider then a car... and still I grew!! My lower torso... my abs... a brick wall didn’t do it justice!!! Each ab alone was a testimonial to muscle, and jointly created a pure work of mastery. Each crevice in the wall of abs, along with my newly forming Adonis belt was so deep... so so dark. My waist... no matter how thick, as it had to be over 50 inches, was firm compared to my massiveness of my chest giving me the ultimate wasp waist. I smiled at my reflection, and looked down at the Astaroth. ⁃ The birth of a monster. ⁃ Only the beginning... My legs began to tremble and quake as my feet began to grow longer and to thicken with muscle. Stretching upward, both my calf muscles began to take on mammoth proportions. They swelled up so thick that, the diamond shape of the two heads began to expand outward on all sides and take up more room over my ankle until it appeared that my foot formed right from my calf. My calf muscles stretched upward toward my kneecaps, but a titanic rumbling sound announced the birth of my new elephantine quads. I cried out in exhilaration as each muscle simply erupted in size. I could only drool over how massive they quickly were becoming. The lateral and medial muscles of my quads immediately became so swollen that I had to widen my stance. Each time I did, and created a little more room for my balls, they would quickly take up all available space. In no time at all the rectus emerged as two massive teardrops that dipped over my kneecaps and required me into a bow legged and crouched position for comfort. I was resigned that for the rest of my existence I would be forced to walk this way, and it made me supremely happy. By the fifth time I had spread my legs, this time as far as they could possibly go, I heard a familiar cracking noise and knew it was my pelvis breaking to enlargen my stance. This caused my waist to broaden as well, which only forced my upper body to grow more as well to keep my tapered look. As I felt my gluteus grow, I cried out. I had been growing for nearly thirty minutes now, and with each change and alteration to my body, the more orgasmic it felt. I moved my hands to try and feel my swelling ass since even with the mirrors I had trouble seeing it, but with my widening lats, I had difficulty moving my arms to even touch it. ⁃ My body... how did I ever exist in anything but this body you are forming for me!!! I am indeed becoming monstrous as you said. ⁃ And you shall remain this way for all eternity... immortal as you requested. ⁃ Fuck!!! I had forgotten that... ⁃ Never ageing... never sickening... never dying... existing as you are for eternity... pure power!!! I clenched my jaw and grit my teeth as I felt the agony of my pelvis bone breaking and growing again, extending my waist more and causing my stance to become far more unnaturally bowlegged. My legs were now so muscle bound, so massive, and so engorged, that some might say they bordered on the grotesque, but I only cried out for more. Every time I stepped now, the entire house shook and the stone floor beneath me cracked and shattered to dust from my insurmountable weight. In no time at all, I knew this entire house would come down around me simply due to my very existence, and that had me begging for more size and mass. As best as I could, I lifted my arms above my head and found that with some manoeuvring I could easily place my palms against the mirrored ceiling. By this time, I was over twenty feet tall, no doubt nearing twenty-five. My deltoids had grown so dense with muscle that it wasn’t easy to lift my arms above my head, but at this time it was still a possibility. My arms began to shudder and ignite with a blissful burning sensation as I finally felt my upper arms join the rest of my body in its symphony of growth. Flexing my upper arm, I watched as it quickly bloated with power, my biceps and triceps becoming thick and dense as stone. I wanted to scream out as my clavicle fractured and enlarged to create more room for upper body growth. The prominence of my upper arms made it difficult to bend my arms, forcing them down off of the ceiling. So much strength were in these arms now. I could easily rip apart a tree or a boulder with my bare hands, and my strength only increased as my forearms surged with size. My hands... fuck... the muscles of my hands expanded until I knew that by the time I had broken out of this house, I would be able to crush coal into diamonds and diamonds into dust. I glanced at myself in the mirror again, a creature of pure muscle. I saw myself as the world might see me: I was nightmarish, I was a mutant of muscle, I was freakish... I was beautiful!!! A beast of pure strength and power. I did a full body flex, and watched as my whole body became even more grotesque as it surged larger. When I released the flex, my body maintained the pump I had gained. Until this moment, my head had remained the same size as when I had first begun this journey, but with an unanticipated flash of pure torment, the bones that formed my entire cranium began to split and re-fuse larger. I tried to keep my eyes open to watch this happen but it was truthfully a frightening sight. My skull swelled and grew first until my head resembled an immense light bulb. My neck muscle continued to thicken to support the added weight of my new head. Soon my eye sockets expanded, as did my eyes. I had thought I understood pain with my last growth, but this surpassed even that. As my eyes doubled and tripled in size, I was afraid they were going to explode. My upper head looked alien, but as my cheekbones and nose began to grow as well, I could see that very soon I would look like me again... just a leviathan version of myself. My chin grew and squared off at the same time my brow ridge became more prominent. Fuck!!! This was now the head of a true Brobdingnagian!!!! My traps, afraid of being left behind, soon grew more immense and once again fused above my ears. I felt a peculiar feeling in my abdominal wall, and looked gain at myself in the mirror. It was odd to know I would never truly see my lower half again due to my immense pecs, but that only made me smile with happiness. That was how I wanted to live. My abdominal muscles were growing larger... lengthier... stretching down like thick tentacles toward my pubis. This was it, I thought. This was the moment I had been waiting for, and my body was preparing itself for it!!! I thought my body was evolving my pubis to be more muscular in order to hold the massive cock I was soon to have, but I was only partially correct. The tentacles of muscle forced their way into my penis and I could only cry out as the greatest surge of ecstasy hit me. Further and further this tentacle of muscle invaded my penis, starting at the base... forcing it to grow longer and thicker, transforming it from tissue into a shaft of pure muscle. My cock was becoming as the rest of my body was... nothing but bulging, pulsating, throbbing muscle!!! I whimpered as this metamorphosis occurred, as my cock was inundated with muscle to become this hard and thick shaft. My muscle cock, because what else could I call it, grew tremendous, nearly as thick as my own forearm, and just as my body continued to grow more massive with muscle, so did my cock. I wrapped my hand around what had once been my old cock, and instantly felt the difference. My muscle cock was no longer pliable with a soft feel but hard as the rest of my body was. I stroked it and felt it flex for the first time, growing even more tremendous in my hand. It was more sensitive then my original flesh cock, as my body evolved to have thousands more nerve endings imbedded throughout it. I could only drool as wave after wave of pleasure besieged my body as I stroked this new muscle cock, watching it grow even more colossal. The tentacles of muscle eventually reached the head, and I watched as this too was transformed into muscle, more bulbous and wider then ever before, the slit a vast open cavern. This was exactly the cock I had wanted, and watched as it expanded and lengthened until it grew even larger then my arm, the head mushrooming even fatter until it was thicker then my fist. I roared... I actually roared as my balls began to widen. I could feel the testosterone in my body being forced into overdrive, as my evolved testicles became a power plant to fuel my last metamorphosis into a being of total size and total masculinity. My head spun as my evolution went wonderfully out of control. As my balls grew immense and sent out shockwaves of testosterone fuelled by the hundreds of thousands of souls within me, I grew even faster, adding on hundreds of pounds of muscle each minute. Hair erupted all over my body, growing quicker and thicker on my face and chest. My hair growth was so out of control that where one follicle would once have grown, I know had five or six, making my newly grown beard thick and dark. Within minutes, I had a full beard that lengthened as I grew taller, my head nearing the thirty foot ceiling. My pecs were covered in a pure pelt of jet black hair, but no matter how thick the hair on me was, it couldn’t hide the musculature beneath it. The hairs on my arms and legs lengthened, trailing down onto my hands and feet, and my underarms had a forest of long jet black hair. My pubes grew denser as well as they covered my pubic mound and ever expanding balls. Thick hose like veins rose up all over my body feeding my musculature. New veins and arteries were formed doubling and then tripling the amount the human body had. My body needed this larger amount so my massive heart would be able to pump the required power throughout my body. My cock muscle, now nearing the length of my leg, grew even thicker as pipe-like veins took root, crisscrossing the entire surface and feeding this monster. The head... ugh!!! The head grew even larger, nearly the size of my cranium. My cock was indeed more then simply a devise for reproduction. It was a monument to all things muscle, all things strength, and all things masculine. Leaking a constant flow of precum, my entire body began emitting the most intense musk... sexual and masculine. Still the world spun around me as my whole being went into overdrive. ⁃ Changing... becoming... something else... all of my senses are becoming heightened... becoming... my voice...so deep... more like a rumble of thunder then a voice...yes...becoming even stronger... becoming... yes... a being of pure instinct... I feel as if I am transforming into something more animalistic the more masculine I become. ⁃ This is what you wanted. ⁃ Was it...??? ⁃ You wanted to be the alpha.. reign supreme over everything.., I am giving you that... ⁃ Yes... The largest surge of power shot through my entire body and I let out a massive roar, which shattered the walls of mirrors. This new evolution was wanted... asked for... but unexpected. I didn’t truly realise what it was I had desired, and now I was receiving it. ⁃ What is happening now... I’m... I’m becoming smarter... my intellect doubling... no tripling... Ha!!! Quadrupling!!! I’m smarter then any man alive!!! How is this happening??!! My brain... taking in so much information at once...YES!!!! Smarter then any human!!!! More powerful then any human... more supreme then any human!!! I am indeed the ALPHA!!! I breathe in and I can smell everything around me... every person, every creature. I am now the apex predator!!!! I have evolved past humanity into what humanity wishes it was!!! About to crash through this ceiling... soon I will be forced to reveal myself to the world... their superior... their ruler... and yet... can I say it... YES... I want more!!! My head smashed into the ceiling, the mirror and metal shattering and falling apart around me. As my growth surged one last time, my head appeared over the roof of my house, my shoulders where the mirrored ceiling had been. I had broken free of my womb and now planed to enjoy the playground that lay before me. The wind of my new world blew through my long black hair and caused my titanic nipples to harden. At one time I would have been embarrassed for the world to see me naked, but now that was the only way the world should see me!! How else would they bask in my magnificence? Worship their... could I say it? Could I speak the word?? YES!!!! Worship their new god!!!
  6. Back to the first part of this chapter.... "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match Finally, another chapter.....a group of the boys are heading off for muscle worship in LA! Part 1. Sorry it has taken me so long to continue. ENJOY! Comments welcome... Updated Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in priapic size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable need to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his growing need to receive both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match Casey and Abdul shook hands and almost immediately crashed into each other like sumo wrestlers. Moving with confident skill, Abdul wrapped his arms around Casey’s chest and slid them up underneath his armpits. He gained leverage, letting out a massive grunt as he heaved the big muscleboy up off his feet. Casey moaned as Abdul slammed him down to the mat. “Awesome,” breathed Lang. “That was fast,” said Waring. “He’s not done yet,” said Alvarez. The men leaned in to watch closer. The wrestlers’ gigantic muscles rippled with pumping, vascular power on the mat. Casey managed to break free for a second, but found himself in Abdul’s guard. Abdul was already going for a triangle choke. Casey was slippery enough to wiggle free for a moment, but Abdul climbed onto his back and sunk in a chokehold, rocking Casey backwards as he tried to shove his hands underneath his rippling forearm. It was no use. Superior experience took the moment from Casey. Abdul reached behind him and grabbed Casey’s asscheeks. “Let’s keep it clean, keep it clean,” said Moster, circling. “Think you’re tough, punk?” Abdul snarled into Casey’s ear. “I know I am,” said Casey. He struggled to wriggle himself free. Sweat began to pour down his body, further drenching the mat. Abdul stretched him out as the other guys watched. They slid in the growing pool of oil and sweat. As he dug his hands in, he caught Casey’s posers with his heel. Casey could feel them sliding down his quads the harder he squeezed. The elastic band stretched until is slipped under the pouch. For a flash, Casey felt humiliated and helpless, almost half naked and groaning as Abdul dominated him. Then he retaliated. Snapping one hand onto Abdul’s pecs, he managed to push him back and deliver a powerful backhand blow across Abdul’s face. Abdul’s face whipped to one side. “Fuck Turkish rules. Keep the posers on,” Casey snarled. Moster said nothing. Mouths dropped open. Abdul released the posers, smiled back, as Casey pulled them back into place. Casey looked back at him, and Abdul smiled - and returned a powerful backhand blow of his own across Casey’s face. Casey’s head whipped to the right. He looked back slowly and nodded. “We’re even.” Welts began to appear on the faces of both men. All of sudden, Abdul shot out, gutwrenching Casey’s face into his lap. “No. Now we’re even.” He tried to shoot a takedown, but Casey suddenly sprawled flat, flipped him, and got a tight front headlock on Abdul. He went down on one knee and flipped him over with a fireman’s carry. Before Abdul knew what hit him, he was on his back. Casey felt his arm between his legs as he attempted a cradle. He was close to scoring. Abdul, his face now puffing up, struggled in the sweaty pool of muscle. Casey locked up his hands and rocked him back. The tide of battle changed. Somehow Abdul got to his feet, grabbing hold of Casey’s hips and now shooting for a second takedown, bending over him now and reaching down his broad back. Casey, surprised, tried to sprawl but Abdul guided his hands up again toward the straps of his posers and made him almost sit on his hands. Casey tried to bridge, but Abdul clamped onto him. Saliva sprayed from his mouth and onto the back of Casey’s neck. Abdul flipped him, crashed onto him with his full body weight. It was no use. Casey gave up and collapsed. Sweat poured off Abdul’s face right into Casey’s eyes. Casey slapped the mat to make it stop and Abdul let him go. Body odor wafted from sweaty armpits as the men applauded Abdul’s round one victory over Casey. “Want to go again?” Abdul asked. He was breathing hard. In spite of his win, the kid had been a lot tougher than he anticipated. His eye was swelling shut and his mouth was bleeding a little. “I can take it,” said Casey. His thin skin was red with mat burns, head was throbbing. Was this really him? It was as if he couldn’t control the truth coming out of his mouth. It all felt right. He could take it. He loved the pain, in fact. Loved it. But didn't really want to think about it for the moment. Abdul nodded, stepped back, retired to the corner of the ring. Pedro was there, pouring more oil. “Don’t need that. Massage my shoulders.” Pedro looked at him a little helplessly, his light kitchen fingers not nearly meaty enough to knead the dense muscle mass that was Abdul’s traps, but he tried. After a few seconds, Abdul brushed him away, irritated. “Never mind,” he barked. Pedro’s eyes flashed hurt, and Abdul brought himself up to smile at him slightly. “You tried.” He patted the handsome boy’s face heavily with thick oily fingers, leaving a gleaming handprint on Pedro’s cheek. Pedro beamed ecstatically. He so hoped he could suck his god’s cock later, but didn’t dare to ask. Abdul turned back into the ring. He called to Schumacher. "Get your ass over here and massage my shoulders," Schumacher grunted and went to work on him, kneading the bunched masses with his thick, powerful fingers. Casey was still center, dancing from foot to foot, not caring that his massive tool was bobbing out of his posers. “Lookin’ good, Case,” yelled Obatu from the sidelines. He turned to Washington, sitting next to him. “Know him from Raw Weight.” “Yeah, Miles’ place. Gotta get there again soon.” “Good workouts.” He winked. “A little cash to be made, too.” “Yeah? Doin’ what?” “You know. Trainin’. Getting’ big. Growing. Flexing. Getting your dick sucked. You know.” “Oh, yeah.” Casey didn't know. But he forgot about it in a moment. The whistle blew. “Round two!” announced Moster. Casey and Abdul stepped towards each other, circled, each more wary. On the sidelines, Alvarez glanced over at Lang. Lang’s pants were open, his zipper down, his cock tumbling out of his khakis. He happily worked his long, extra-thick shaft. He glanced up at Alvarez and shrugged. “It’s hot,” he said. Alvarez had to acknowledge it was. “So why not?” Alvarez nodded agreement, opened his fly, with some difficulty pulled out his own already-stiff, mammoth member, and began to chug up and down the shaft with practiced, heavily calloused fingers. Lang looked down, grinned, licked his lips, winked at Alvarez. “Pose and approve later?” “We’ll see.” Lang knew there would be. This was too hot not to follow up with a long pose and approve session and some good butt fucking. But for now, both musclemen turned back to the match and standing side by side, together worked their cocks in silent unison. Their fists plunging up and down. A moment later, Waring, Duncan, and McIntyre had joined them. “Oh, yeah,” said McIntyre. squish squish squish squish squish squish squish squish And a moment after that, Hension, Chad, Meyer and Gunst had pulled their heavy cocks from their khakis and were applying basic spank the monkey techniques. squish squish squish squish squish squish squish squish Moster heard the squishing sounds of numerous big cocks being worked by powerful, pumping fists, looked up, glancing askance at the group. “Begging your pardon sir!” yelled out Hension. “We’re masturbating, sir!” “And why not?” said Moster, but he kept his cock in his pants. Still, out it poled. “Bring it, bitch!” yelled Casey as the two faced off in the center of the mat. “C’mon dude, we wrestlin’ or dancin’? Take a shot!” Abdul taunted. Both men seemed either oblivious to or uninterested in the fact that all around them, every man on the muscle squad was now actively jerking off. Casey shot out a lightning fast single leg. Abdul hopped over it and tried to pivot as Casey dove in, wrapped meaty arms around Abdul’s waist, and brought him violently down to the mat. Somehow Abdul flipped to his belly and Casey applied a painful hammerlock with one hand as he grabbed the back of his head with the other and rubbed his face in the mat. “How’s that mat taste?” Casey asked as Abdul grunted, struggling to turn his head to the side. On the sidelines, Pedro was frantic, seeing his big man suddenly so disgraced, however momentarily. Abdul tried to get off his stomach, but Casey slid his bulging quads down inside Abdul’s and drove his arm underneath his chin. Casey rolled onto his side and poured on the pressure. “Arrgghhhh!” Abdul groaned as Casey stretched him out. Pedro looked on, helpless with worry. “Ya like that, tough guy? Want some more?” Casey murmured between clenched teeth said as he pulled up harder on his chin, Casey totally wrapped around him. Abdul was completely immobilized. He groaned. “C’mon Abdul, you can take this!” Schumacher yelled. He too was now playing with himself freely. Lang, firing away on his stiff-as-iron cock, was laughing. “Put him on his back, Case! Finish him off.” Casey’s posers crept deep into his ass crack as he locked his legs around Abdul’s left leg. His rock hard glutes squeezed together as he wore the huge Turk down. Abdul tried to get free of Casey’s chin lock, but it was no use. He panted and groaned as Casey pulled his head down. “Got some lube?” asked Chad from the second row. The source was surprising. “Here,” said Schumacher, passing around tubes of the prime VALHALLA LABS signature cock-pumping oil. “Gift from the house.” “When did we start making this stuff?” asked Hension, looking down at the tube as he squeezed the warm lubricant onto his thick cockshaft. “Shut the fuck up,” said Lefevre, but he grinned good-naturedly, clapping Hension lightly on the back of the head. On the mat, Abdul suddenly switched it all out. He pried Casey’s hands from the chin lock and sank his arm around Casey’s neck, pulling him down to the mat and now choking him out. His drove his ankles down deep into Casey’s quads and he began to constrict his hold around his neck. Sweat poured off both men. The strong smells of perspiration, olive oil and butt wafted up into the overhead lights. It was now Casey’s turn again to groan in pain. Abdul’s powerful forearm was wrapped around his thick neck. Moster jumped into the ring, sticking his head into his face and asked Casey if he was ready to give up. Casey was grunting and struggling to breathe. Casey was unable to say the words I give. “Too soon,” he breathed out from under Abdul’s body mass. “Loosen up, man,” Moster said to Abdul, who nodded. Abdul loosened the hold so Casey could breathe, but he wasn’t done. Casey tried to get up, but Abdul still was controlling him. Then Abdul reached down and once again slid his hand down into Casey’s now-ripped posers. Casey looked angered as Abdul grabbed onto his thick cock. He handed off the poser to his foot, and peeled Casey’s poser down revealing the muscleboy’s huge penis. “In Turkish oil wrestling rules, the match is now over,” muttered Gunst from the sidelines, watching the mass of slippery muscle tumble on the mats. He rubbed the bulge in his pants, and glanced down. Straight up and out, past the belt line, up into his t-shirt, poling up above his belly. He unzipped and released his mass. “We done?” breathed Abdul. “No!” yelled Casey, now naked. “Naw, it’s way better than Turkish wrestling,” whispered Blankenship, now fondling his own stiff penis, still sheathed in khaki. Gunst looked him quizzically. “I like how it feels in my pants.” “Oh. Oh, yeah. Me too. Sometimes.” Gunst began pumping. “But not now.” Around the ring, all cocks were pumped a little more fiercely as the match intensified. “Okay then. We go for a pin.” Abdul moved his hand up to Casey’s head, rubbing it in his hair to get some sweat for lubricant. Then he came back rubbing Casey’s cock until it was rock solid. Out it poled, 12 inches and more. “Whatcha gonna do about it this time?” he sneered. The 17 bodybuilders were now all leaning in and pumping hard cocks, watching the sweaty jumble of muscle on the mat. Even Schumacher was now pumping furiously. As was Tiffany. For once the self-possessed little muscleboy let his guard down. He worked his cock ferociously, watching the dark match. “They’re pretty even,” said Warning. “Yeah,” said Chad. Next to him on the left, Obatu and Washington looked as if they were about to get up. A light flickered in Lang’s eye. Hension looked wildly around him. He was going to cum soon. Moster directed them all warningly, knowing where they were likely to go next. “Stay where you are, gents. No cumming. Men can hold it.” General moans. The men did as they were told. The wrestling room was silent except for the grunts of Casey and Abdul, the near-silent whirring of Dr. Irving’s video cam, the blue-balled moans and groans of the fleet of masturbating muscle giants, with the squeaky wet regular tattoo of lubricated palms working big cocks. Squish squish squish GRUNT GROANNNN squish squish squish squish squish squish “I SAID, DO NOT CUM!” Moster shouted suddenly. All jumped in their seats. “A man can withstand it!” All sat. 17 monster muscle cocks with nowhere to go but into calloused palms. For now. Up and down. Up and down. “Hey, Chad!” whispered Bogarde loudly. “Squeeze my nips!” Chad reached over to his right with his free hand (the other feverishly pumping his cock) and began violently tweaking Bogarde’s huge, downward-pointing think nipples. “Yeah, make me hurt, man!” Bogarde pleaded, working his cock. “You got it, man.” Squish squish squish UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. squish squish squish squish squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. Suddenly Abdul flipped, keeping his hold on Casey, who squirmed below. Casey was on his back now with Abdul on top, now in the north-south position. All Casey could see was Abdul’s bulging balls and the red singlet outline of his rigid cockshaft. Abdul lowered his balls onto Casey’s face and caught his head in between his legs. But Casey somehow spread his legs and reclamped behind Abdul’s neck. The two muscle monsters squeezed each other tight, rubbing crotches in each other’s face. Casey’s enormous penis brushed Abdul’s scratchy beard. “Ouch!” Casey cried. Finally Abdul broke the hold and swung around to face Casey, getting him in one of his killer headlocks. Once again, Casey was in trouble. But he managed to dig an elbow into Abdul’s groin. Abdul shouted and Casey pried himself free, stood, and turned. He lunged full weight at Abdul. Abdul was ready for him, grabbing his shoulders and shoving Casey’s face right into his and applying a submission hold. For a moment, they looked into each other’s eyes. Then Abdul drove Casey’s shoulders into the mat. “Ughhhh,” Casey moaned. Abdul had mounted him and was driving his elbow into his head. It was momentary. Casey flopped in his own sweat a moment, and then, with surprising swiftness, changed course, wrapping his hands behind Abdul’s neck and pulling him in toward his chest. He wrapped his legs tight around Abdul’s body and grunted as he started to gain control. Abdul and Casey slid around the mat, slipping out of each other holds as they tried desperately to get a submission out of each other. Suddenly, Casey managed to climb on Abdul’s back and slip his arm under his chin. His stiff cock slapped against his abs. “Shit!” Abdul yelled as Casey secured the choke. Casey squeezed harder. Suddenly Abdul was struggling to breathe. His face was beet red. And suddenly, it was over. Abdul slapped the mat furiously and Casey released his grip. He let out a whoop. He grabbed Abdul by the hair and lifted his head up, using his other arm to flex his biceps. Fast as a flash, Abdul grabbed his hand and twisted his wrist, ensuring Casey’s victory was a brief one – but it was too late. The image had been captured in the men’s brains. “Aweesummmm,” breathed Hension, once again, and to no one in particular. “Wait till I call it!” yelled Moster. “Fuck you,” said Abdul. He hunched back on his knees and locked Casey up in a kneeling position, pressing his slippery forehead into his and looking into his eyes. They panted for breath. Once again, as if alerted by a bugle charge, both suddenly sprang once again into action. Abdul managed to get a headlock on Casey and threw him to the mat. His cock slapped against his leg as Casey tried to turn to avoid getting pinned. Both were so sweaty and slick with the now hot oil that neither could get a good hold. The mat was an ocean of steaming sweat and oil, both men sliding in the mass of liquid. In the circle of chairs around the wrestling ring, the bodybuilders pumped their blood-engorged cocks feverishly. On the mat, Casey freed a hand and ripped Abdul’s singlet wide open. The Turk was enraged. His cock spilled onto the mat. Pedro leaned forward now openly licking his lips. “Please let us cum, sir!” pleaded Hension. “Okay…..guess I’ll play, too,” said Moster, studiedly lazily. He advanced into the center of the ring where the two muscle monsters lay, locked in sinew, sweat, and bronzed oil, their huge cocks flailing openly. “Men, why don’t you join me?” Moster smiled. He only had to ask once. In a heartbeat the 17 bodybuilders bolted from the chairs, clambering over one another and the rings to get to the center of the ring. Still, they waited breathlessly, cocks in hand, no one daring to make a further move. Abdul shot a look of helpless rage up to Moster, but Casey was holding him firm. Neither man could budge. squish squish squish squish GOOSH squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. And Moster unzipped. The largest black cock in the world poured out of his pants, flopping down to his knees. FLOPppp… In a second it was poled high, reaching nipple level. Moster grabbed it with his fist and slid his hands down it just three times. squish squish squish squish GOOSH squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. “I’m ready,” he said quietly. The bodybuilders circled the wrestlers, side by side. Casey stared at the huge, pendulous looming cocks above him, heavy dew drops of precum beginning to drip, oozing into the mass of mat liquid in which the two musclemen lolled in their struggles. It was as if it was the first time he had even noticed what the men were up to. “What are they doing??” he cried out to Moster. “What’s it look like, punk?” growled Abdul in his ear. Moster ignored him. “Pedro,” Moster invited graciously, “why don’t you get over here and join us?” Pedro didn’t have to be asked twice. He scampered gleefully into the circle, a little beautiful brown spot of handsome teenhood amidst a turbulent ocean of masturbating musclemen. He pulled out his own pretty little cock and began to pump fiercely, gleefully, staring hungrily at the huge muscle and looming penises all around him. After only a moment, he couldn’t stand being surrounded by the sea of cock without getting to his knees and starting to suck his way around the circle, feverishly. He started with Gunst, his pretty little mouth enveloping the massive organ. From the sidelines Dr. Irving began to walk rapidly behind the circle of men, panning his cam across the landscape of their solid glutes, huge, hard and round, squeezing and relaxing in tense, pumping cannonballs of butt muscle as they pumped their cocks feverishly. Backs of heads. Batwing lat spreads of knitted boulders of muscle. Delts touching. Hamstrings pounding with thick rivers of veins. Butts pumping. Irving got it all on cam. Someday he knew this video would be worth thousands….hundreds of thousands. He captured it all. From the mat below, Casey gazed up, exhausted and confused, bewildered and amazed at a sea of musclecock held high above him. Abdul merely growled. In a few seconds the waterfalls of cum would begin. He couldn’t admit to himself that he had wanted something like this to happen. “What’re they gonna do?” asked Casey, fearfully, muffled. Hmmmm, thought Moster as he pumped his organ. The white cap is wearing off. Probably from the match. If it was still in him, he’d have no problem. Still, it didn’t stop anything. The bodybuilders were groaning loudly now, pumping and flexing, rocking ball-toe-heel, their magnificently bodies undulating rhythmically. “Let ‘er rip!” Moster, now pumping furiously, looked to Dr. Irving, who had never stopped the video, nor moved. “You getting it all?” “Of course,” said Irving, irritated, shocked, perplexed and baffled as always - but never daring to shut down the cam. He could never understand what all this had to do with science, but never mind. He was well paid. “Muthafucker!” Hension screamed. “You boys about ready to shoot?” Moster asked. “Hang on. They ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” said Abdul. He squeezed Casey’s head as hard as he could. It wasn’t too long before Casey wriggled out of it and was on his hands and knees facing him. He came in at Abdul and tried to push him over onto his back, but the muscle Turk reached behind him and sunk his fingers right into Casey’s exposed anus. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Casey cried as Abdul used his rectum as a handle to flip him over. He slammed on his back on the mat. An ocean spray of sweat and oil sloshed into the air. And around them the squishing sounds of muscle jerking grew more frantic. “Oh, maaaaa—aaaan,” said Hension. “Hold off, men!” shouted Moster. "Santa mierda de Dios,” breathed Pedro, now frantically licking Obatu’s cock up and down its 12-inch length. Obatu’s pumping fist was punching him repeatedly in the nose. He didn’t care. He held the cock between his lips and sucked hard. Precum began to spurt down his throat. Squish squish squish UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. GOOOsh squish squish GOOOsh groannnn Ugh unnnghh squish squish squish squish squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. Casey and Abdul were in a mad final scramble now. Both knew the match was coming to an end. Abdul was enraged he somehow didn’t have the conditioning to go a full hour with Casey; it had only been 12 to 15 minutes in the ring, and no more – and he was wiped out. For his part, Casey was panting deeply and hot as a furnace, pushed to the max. And yet. And yet. Abdul knew Casey could outlast him. Casey, however much he might be forever on the bottom tonight, yet had a couple of hours of strength to go. It was only that he lacked the fighting technique Abdul had hard earned over the years. And this enraged the Turk. Abdul got behind Casey and sunk his arms between his legs, locking onto his other arm and driving his biceps into Casey’s balls. Abdul’s forearm pressed painfully against his thick penis. Casey couldn’t take it. He had to move, giving him enough space to maneuver. Dirty Turkish wrestling. Casey managed to get a “Fuck you”, but he was outclassed, totally helpless and defeated. “I gotta suck cock!” Lang shouted, and dove down in front of Alvarez. In a flash Alvarez’s meat was in his mouth, sluicing juicily down his throat. “Me too,” muttered Hension, who dropped down in front of Gunst. He bobbed and weaved with the mighty strokes Gunst was applying to his huge cock, ducking his head, trying to get his mouth around it. “Shit,” said Gunst. With his right hand he backhandedly smacked Hension’s face hard, grabbed the back of his head, clenched a handful of hair; with his left hand he clutched his cock and rammed it down Hension’s throat. Hension began to violently suck muscle giant’s firehouse cock while working his own and never taking his eyes off the grappling musclemen on the mat. Abdul had Casey’s legs now, lifting him up so Casey was upside down, sliding down Abdul’s back till his head hit the mat and he was facing his ass. His nose went right into Abdul’s exposed ass crack for a minute while the Turk kept tilting his head back to put pressure on Casey’s balls. But Casey rallied. Groaning, straining, working hard, he trapped Abdul’s head in a figure 4, squeezing his face right into his balls as he pinned him. “Yer so eager to see my cock, so get an eyeful of it now,” he hissed. Abdul tried to snarl back, but he could only groan. He was getting tired. And the muscleboy had hours of energy ahead of him. He could feel it. Moster had a hard time seeing if the Turk was pinned or not, the men were so wrapped up in an oily mass of muscled quads, rippling traps, batwing lats, boulder biceps, brick-like abs, pounding glutes, pounding feet, pounding fists, and bulging balls. But it wasn’t looking so good for the Turk. UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. The squad, now in deep sex frenzy, was by now beyond observing the details of combat. Blankenship and Waring had each dropped to their knees, sucking the heavy, veiny cocks of Chad and Washington. Schumacher grabbed Meyer, flipped him around, pulled down his khakis, and plunged his cock mercilessly into his welcoming butthole as the handsome deaf mute played gleefully with his engorged manhood. He began to fuck him with deep and powerful strokes. Meyer smiling ecstatically and waved his mighty butt under the cock blows. He reached back and pried his buttcheeks wide. His asshole was as open as he could get it. He spread his legs. Schumacher’s thick cock was in action, driving, pounding, fucking. Squish squish squish fuckfuckfuck UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. Moster could see where it was headed on the mat. Abdul had taken the first two pins. But Casey was just getting started. He was mad now. The effect of the white caps was weaving in and out, true, and Casey was responding as if he was on mushrooms. But his huge muscles were gleaming with power. Every vein was bursting. Sweat was pouring off both men. And Abdul was breathing hard. But he still had the upper hand. Still, Moster pumped harder. He had to admit: this was pretty hot. Pedro looked at him adoringly, moved to take Moster’s cock in his mouth. Moster pushed him back roughly. “Get away, son,” he barked. Pedro looked frightened and abashed. Moster smiled slightly, an eyebrow arched. “You being a bad boy? Might have to tan your hide later,” he murmured. Pedro looked hopeful but the fear still glistened slightly. He glanced down at Moster’s powerful fist, now stroking his massive meat up and down, up and down. “Your hand could kill my butt!” he squeaked. “Not your butt, little boy. Not yours. Now get out of my way. Go suck Private Duncan’s cock.” Moster tossed a glance at Duncan, who was busily working his dick. Pedro scampered away, ran to Duncan, and knelt before him. “The C.O. says I have to suck your cock,” he cried out, and gathered the mighty pole into his mouth. Duncan was startled. “Okay,” he said. “Don’t mind.” Pedro knelt and went right to work on Duncan’s massive tool. He was particularly excited by the latticework of heavy veins surrounding the muscleman’s member. He began to trace his finger along the thick rivers of vascularity as he sucked. Duncan spread his legs wide. He grabbed Pedro’s black hair in his fist and began to steadily pump his hips into the boy’s face. On the mat, more spent than he wanted to admit, Casey stared up at the circle of musclemen above and around him. Four of the musclemen were sucking musclecock now. The little Mexican teenager was scampering about sucking musclecocks as they were freed up. Schumacher was fucking the cute little muscleguy’s awesome glutes. The other 7 musclemen were straddling the mat edges now, massive quads akimbo, pumping serious cock. And the CO Sergeant Moster had his cock out, too. It was the biggest penis Casey had ever seen in his life. Even bigger than his own. Which was huge. As he stared, he lost focus. And in a flash, Abdul had flipped him again and was straddling his pecs with his own huge body and pressing for an advantage. Casey couldn’t move. The sounds of musclesex filled the wrestling room. On the sidelines, Dr. Irving was capturing it all on video. GOOOsh squish slurp suck suck slurp squish GOOOsh groannnn SUCKSUCK LICK SLURP fuckkkk Casey grunted. A surge of energy hit him. He tried a duck under, but Abdul kept the upper hand. As he went down to his knees on the mat, Casey kept his left arm welded to the Turk’s shoulder, pulling out to his side and anchoring his right hand deep in his anus. “Turkish rules, right?” Casey snarled into Abdul’s ear, beginning to chew on the lobe. He was back in control again. The Turk let out a short gasp as he felt Casey’s index finger work up into his asshole, a big grin on his face. Abdul wanted to smash those perfect teeth in, but he was too busy trying to pry the muscle giant kid’s finger out of his butthole. With a sudden rush of White Cap adrenaline, Casey moved his right arm around Abdul’s waist, mounted him and broke him down so his belly was flat on the mat. He managed a gut wrench and turned him over once, but he was too tough and was able to counter Casey’s leverage with his strength. Moster knew he had to step in. He couldn’t afford to have Abdul so badly defeated. Not yet. Not at the outset of Casey’s career. Sure, Casey Rockland was a muscle outlier. There may never have been a muscleman like him before, and there may not be another again. But it was too soon for the legend to emerge. For the good of the program, Casey had to lose tonight. And it didn’t look as if he was going to. So Moster did the one thing he could do, to save Abdul’s neck. Moster blew the whistle and reached in. He grabbed them both by the scruffs of their necks and powerfully brought them up to their knees. Casey was stunned, dizzy, swirling with confusion and excitement and pain and frenzy all at once. Abdul’s rage was huge but not huge enough to allow his own massive tool to go limp. Both muscle monsters were sporting huge erections. And the men around them were pumping and sucking and fucking furiously. Ugh unnnghh groan moan slurp suck squish squish squish slurp suck suck squish squish squish AH AHH AHHHHHH yeah yeah yeah UNNNGHHHH AAAAHHHHHH!!!! Moster stepped forward, grabbed his mighty cock, knelt down next to the knotted figures of muscle, and began to shoot cum in the Turk’s face. SPURT! BLAST!! AAAHHH YEAH!!! Gallons of gobs of white creamy cum shot maniacally from his deeply creased piss slit. And the biggest cock in the world, on the biggest bodybuilder in the world, began to throb and spurt hot liquid rivers of jism onto the Turk’s face. “FUCKING HELL!” roared Abdul. ‘GODDAMN YOU MOSTER!!!” And the cum spilled, coating his roaring face, filling his mouth and nostrils, dripping down his chin. Moster was aiming it, like a firehose. “On the Turk, men!” he shouted. And with that…all hell let loose.
  7. Hello, all...here is the long-awaited Wrestling Chapter......to catch up where you were before, I highly recommend you look at the other chapters first..... Links to other chapters: "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / A Brief History of Casey Rockland / Miles Donovan's Gym "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 6 - Casey is Discovered at Miles Donovan's Gym "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Pt. 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale, Continued / The Men Hit the Showers "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11 - Casey Meets the Muscle Squad Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in priapic size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable need to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his growing need to receive both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. THE TWENTY A Government Issue Adult Cartoon -XXX- Muscle Fantasy By Joey Silverado This book is dedicated to Tiny Yokum – and to all his fans, past, present, and future. Chapter 12: Part 1 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match Five minutes later, Karim Abdul was striding down the corridor, pecs bouncing, headed for the wrestling room. Still carrying his clothes from Casey’s presentation, he was now dressed only in his red Lycra wrestling singlet. His step was deliberate, his gait powerful. As he walked he grumbled to himself, ignoring the low clamor of the rest of muscle squad, who followed eagerly behind. His cock, loose in the singlet, swayed heavily from side to side as he walked, his balls pushed forward. “Asswipe kid.” The rest of his thoughts were a little too vague for words. Thoughtlessly he grabbed his cock and got it momentarily out of the way of his quads, pumping as he walked. Most of the squad was keeping a good 20 yards of distance between themselves and Karim Abdul. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of a wild Abdul punch at this moment. Even Schumacher, McIntyre, and Duncan, men who could well defend themselves and were used to Abdul’s occasional wild swings, were keeping themselves at a cautious distance. Karim knew he had to mark his territory. Now, tonight, and fast. No questions asked. Leaving nothing to second-guessing. After all, even he had to admit it - this kid was fucking unbelievable. He was huge, he was cut, he was raw, he was handsome, he was young, he was unbelievably hung. And at only 18 years of age, he was still growing. Karim wouldn’t rest until he’d smashed the kid’s handsome face into the mat. And maybe pissed in his mouth, too. Something. Something like that. Yeah. Show him who was in charge. But - it was all – well, a little unformed. Even to him. He passed the door leading to the back of the kitchen. He bashed the door open with his fist, smashing the frame and cracking the thick glass. Inside, Pedro, Abdul’s handsome little kitchen cocksucking buttboy, was sweeping up. “Your ass in the wrestling room. Bring that 10-pound canister of olive oil. MOVE!!! NOW!” commanded Abdul. Pedro jumped a mile. Then Abdul was gone, continuing on down the corridor. Pedro immediately put the broom away, washed his hands - his musclegod demanded clean fingernails - climbed up a little ladder to one of the shelf larders, and grabbed a 10 gallon jug of olive oil. Carrying it with some difficulty, he nevertheless darted out the door and ran excitedly after Abdul. "Wait for me!" the eager boy squeaked. He was about to get an awesome muscle show. Maybe suck some massive cock. Wow! Further ahead, Abdul was a man on a mission. And coming up behind him and running by was Private Tiffany. Abdul didn’t like that asswipe, either. Great glutes, though. Perfect glutes. Big, hard, striated boulders. Yeah. Fuckable. Most inviting. He’d fuck the little asswipe’s butt one day and then push his face in the toilet. Yeah. He continued on, paying little notice, though he did allow himself a quick, cool glance at the muscleboy’s rolling, muscular boybutt as he scampered by. From the corridor somewhere behind Abdul, Schumacher was shouting to Tiffany. “Where you going?” he demanded to know. “Getting Dr. Irving!” “Who?” Tiffany turned back, running backwards, explaining patiently as if to a child. “The dude with the camera. Ever notice him? Probably not…” He waved Schumacher off with easy, grinning contempt, turned back and scooted happily up the corridor towards Dr. Irving’s office. Schumacher swore to himself. He had to acknowledge he had no idea who Tiffany was talking about. He rarely noticed the lab workers or other doctors, barely paying attention to even Dr. Zaftig himself. He returned his gaze to Karim, striding purposefully up the hall ahead of him. Karim Abdul’s rocky man glutes rumbled darkly as he walked, and Schumacher gazed into the impenetrable deep butt crack outlined in the red Lycra. Excepting only the cloaked, anonymous butt fucking nights, no one other than powerfucker Schumacher had yet penetrated Karim’s magnificent asshole. Ever. “At least I have that much,” Schumacher muttered. By now he was passing the open office door. Tiffany, his back to the corridor, was hurriedly explaining to some geeky lab coat doctor who Schumacher had never noticed before, saying something about Get the camera out, asshole, and Come with me now…. Schumacher paused for a moment in the office doorway to admire Tiffany’s butt sweep in his tight regulation khakis. His full, hard, rounded glutes were a most enticing display in his slacks, the rear pockets rounded with the curvature of pure muscle, promising the pleasures that lay beneath. Joe Tiffany Now there was a butt to fuck. He grunted and continued down the corridor, following Karim. In truth he didn’t know why he was heading off with the others to the wrestling ring, and especially at this hour. He should be headed off to bed, a quick JO instant replay of the group shower suck / group butt lick he’d enjoyed just 40 minutes earlier, and then plenty of shuteye for another brutal workout tomorrow. That was the life. And another day to plan on getting into Tiffany’s butt. Another day to strategize some deep cock / muscleboybutt frottage sessions. Another day to – “Hey, Schumacher.” It was McIntyre. “Where you going? This way.” He’d walked right past the wrestling room door. “Oh.” He retraced his steps. As he came back, a little sheepishly, Alvarez and Lang were in the doorway. Lang’s tongue was practically lolling out of his head in anticipation, and even cool customer Alvarez had an excited gleam in his eye. “What do you assholes think is gonna happen?” snarled Schumacher as he strode by, pushing past them into the wrestling room. Alvarez put his hands up in mock defensiveness. “Oh, nothing, nothing. We just thought we might want to watch.” “Yeah, we wanna watch nothing happen,” smirked Lang. Both men mockingly bowed as Schumacher went by, Alvarez of course taking the lead, with puppydog Lang following suit. Schumacher glanced down at their packed flies bulging out of their khakis as he strode by. “You both sure got big enough hard-ons, just to watch nothing happen.” Lang looked defensive. Alvarez just laughed, and gently patted Lang’s growing bulge. “Yeah, guess we do.” He nodded and winked, and went inside the wrestling room. Lang followed, and even had the temerity to wink at Schumacher as he went by. Alvarez threw his arm around Lang and playfully squeezed his ass. Faggots, thought Schumacher. His own cock roared to life in his pants and was soon poling straight out and upward. He glanced back down the corridor. Moster and Casey were rounding the corner. Moster had changed out of his sweats, and was now in the regulation Valhalla Labs green t-shirt and tight khakis. Casey still had only his micro posing trunks on. Behind them scurried Dr. Irving, carrying Casey’s sweats and his video equipment. He was babbling on his cellphone. Probably talking to the insane dude who ran the place. Zaftig. Moster noted the ruined kitchen door and sighed. “Another door,” he grumbled. These dudes, when they got pissed off. It’s not like Valhalla Labs was a bottomless money source. Close, but not bottomless. He nodded at Schumacher and gestured briefly for him to go into the wrestling room ahead of them. Schumacher scowled, but did as he was directed. “Dr. Irving?” “Yes, Sergeant Moster?” Irving scurried to catch up to them. “Do you have a white cap on you?” “Why…yes….” Moster knew he would. The little doctor had long since learned that anything could happen when the men gathered, and he made it a point to carry extra medication with him at all times. And there was no sense in irritating Moster with a “Why, no.” He wouldn’t put it past the giant black muscle monster to deck him with one mighty punch in the nose if displeased, which would no doubt kill him. He scrambled and produced a small medication bottle. Moster turned to Casey, struggling a little to keep up, halfway between a walk and a run, his black shiny micro poser barely covering his steadily bobbing cock as he ran. “Here,” said Moster. “Take this.” “Hunh?” Casey stopped full. “Take it. Don’t ask questions.” “What—what is it?” “Extra confidence.” “Drugs?” Casey was momentarily stumped. He remembered that the boys in the Home were always experimenting. It made them silly and weak. He wanted no part of it. “I don’t do drugs.” Moster motioned to Irving. “Go on and set up, we’ll meet you there.” He turned to Casey. “It’s not a drug. Not like you think.” “I don’t do no steroids, neither.” “Not a ‘roid. There is no man in this facility on the juice. We have to do something about your grammar, by the way.” “Then how –“ “Shut up and take it. I will explain later. You will be fine.” Casey gulped, put his faith in Moster, and did as he was told. He popped the pill in his mouth, and smiled with weak subservience at Moster. “Okay, sir.” “What was that?” “I..I mean, Yes, Sir!” “That’s better.” Moster turned and continued down the corridor, Casey scampering after him. Good thing the men still do what I tell them to do, thought Moster. And how long is that gonna last with this boy? Once he finds his power? Moster tucked that thought away. “Let’s go watch you wrestle. You do wrestle, you said?” “Yeah, but I’m scared…” “No need to be.” “…no..…scared I’ll hurt him. I always do….” Except, of course, Ramon Ramon, the much smaller wrestler at Raw Weight Gym who never failed to thoroughly pin the muscleboy. But of course, that was a long time ago. Inside the wrestling room Karim had already snapped on the overhead lights and was doing deep knee bends in the middle of the 20 sq foot wrestling ring, which dominated the center of the room. The thick blue mat of the ring gleamed in the overhead lights, with the VALHALLA LABS logo in the center. Around the ring on two raised platforms were about 40 folding chairs, all affording perfect, elevated views of any wrestling action. Pedro stood eagerly on the side, now holding towels and a water bottle. “Getting limbered up to better meet the kid?” called out Blankenship. He had already grabbed his ringside seat, he too adjusting his crotch as he sat. “Shut the fuck up,” said Karim, squatting. To Pedro he shot out, “Where the fuck is the oil? Get the oil.” Pedro shot off into a storage room and returned with a 5-gallon jug of olive oil. “Goin’ for Turkish wrestling, hunh, Karim?” Chad was grabbing a seat ringside. He nudged Waring. “This is gonna be good.” No answer from Karim. “The kid’s got an iron grip, I’m told,” called out Waring, nudging Eli Meyer’s ribs as he took a seat next to him. Meyer’s mouth hung open in a perennial smile. He pointed to his mouth so Meyer could read his lips. “I said, Casey Rockland’s got an iron grip.” “I heard you.” Obatu was next, leaning against the ropes. “And those quads be killers. He gets you in a lock hold, you gonna be dead in the water. What’re ya gonna do about that, Mr. Abdul, sir?” Karim didn’t answer, regarding them all stonily. Obatu lazily returned his gaze, smiling, unintimidated. Blankenship had started this. But Blankenship had easily dodged the intended receiving end of a few near-miss wild roundhouse punches in the past. He was too fast and too alert to be caught unawares, and Karim Abdul had learned not to waste his energy on him. So Karim suffered the men’s ready comments stoically. “This kid got veins like this?” he asked, flexing his 25-inch biceps, showing off half-inch thick rivers of veins, pulsing with power. “Yeah, I think, actually, he does,” said Blankenship with a smile. “Here he is now. Let’s see. Kid, you got veins like his?” Moster and Casey had appeared at the opposite door, the darkened end of the wrestling room. Both giants approached, in black silhouette against the framed light from the corridor, getting larger as they quietly walked toward the ring. Casey looked up quizzically at the question. “Flex your biceps,” whispered Moster. “Hunh?” “Flex, man. Don’t ask stupid questions. Flex it up. Now.” “ ’kay.” Casey stopped and hammered out a front double bi. 25 inches of his own, in response to Abdul. As always, he felt compelled to go on, adding side chest, front lats, quads, and sent a hand probingly down rippled, hardrock abs. “That good?” “Good, good,” muttered Moster. “You catch on fast. You ever compete, kid?” “Uh…..no……should I? Other guys are so much bigger than me….” Moster smiled. They all think that, at the beginning. “Get over here, plebe,” Abdul called out from the center of the ring. Pedro was standing on a stool, pouring the olive oil over his massive physique, worshipfully slathering him up. Casey in Silhouette Casey stared. “What’s all that….?” he stammered. Moster noted that the white cap hadn’t taken effect yet, but then it had only been a few minutes. “Now, Karim,” said Moster patiently, coming into the light as they approached the ring. “You know Casey is not a plebe.” Abdul started to speak. “Nor is he a cadet. He is now one of you. He makes us The Twenty. You need to accept this,” he continued, walking and speaking easily now as he pulled up the ropes and stepped into the wrestling ring. He approached the angry giant muscle Arab. “And he isn’t threatening you. Casey isn’t going to pull your power away from you.” “That’s not what this is about.” “Bullshit,” one of the men yelled. The others laughed. Abdul glared at them and went on. “Whatever you say, Sergeant Moster, sir,” said Abdul. “I just want to make sure he’s going to be worth my time to train with.” He smiled easily. “That’s all.” The oil was dripping off him onto the mat. Moster said nothing. Casey was now visibly nervous. Still outside the ropes, he leaned in to Moster. “They gonna reject me?” he whispered loudly. “I mean, now?” “No one’s rejecting you,” said Moster loudly. He then turned to the waiting group of musclemen. “Are you, boys?” Something about that ‘boys’ rankled Abdul even further, though Alvarez and Gunst just smiled. The others looked perplexed. “Since when are we boys?” squealed Hension. “Shut up, Hension,” said Chad. “You ever wrestle, boy?” Abdul called out. “His name is Casey. Or Private Rockland.” “I asked you a question, boy. Ever wrestled? Get your butt into the ring.” “You really want all this oil?” sighed Moster. “We’re gonna wrestle Turkish style.” “It’s messy.” “I’ll clean it up, sir!” squeaked Pedro. “Bet your ass you will.” “Yeah, you don’t want a spanking, now, do you?” yelled Lang. He adjusted in his chair, his glutes still smarting from the paddling he’d received earlier that evening. Moster’s cock twitched a little at the suggestion of paddling handsome young Pedro’s hard, receiving little boybutt, a pleasure he had not yet allowed himself, although the teenage boy’s firm little butt cheeks had always been particularly inviting in his kitchen whites. He ignored it for now, however. Later, he thought. Casey shot a look at Moster. “What’s this about spankings?” he asked. Moster ignored the question. “Get in there.” “Yes, sir.” Casey climbed obediently into the ring. Moster watched him closely. The white cap should be taking effect in a moment…. “Oil him up,” commanded Abdul. Pedro ran over to him with the stool and the olive oil, climbed up, and began to pour it all over Casey’s massive physique. The sheer size and beauty of his muscles was overwhelming to the little Mexican, and his own powerful little cock began to bulge in his pants. After a moment, Casey was drenched in the shiny, thick liquid. The two musclemen stood face to face, Abdul in his tight singlet, fearsome muscles gleaming in the light, looming with threatening power. Casey was still in his micro, bulging posers, wet now with slick oil, the top 6 inches of his massive, meaty cockshaft fully exposed, blond tendrils of pubic hair curling with thick radiance. He was embarrassed, humiliated that his huge penis was twitching outwards in anticipation of what-was-coming-next. But then he noticed – Abdul’s oily, pylon-thick tool was also clearly coming to life in the thin singlet. “Good. Now, you got some mighty fancy muscles. But that doesn’t mean much here. We all got fancy muscles.” “You’re not being very polite, Corporal Abdul, “ said Moster, moving to the sidelines. “I think the men ought to introduce themselves before we get into any personal demonstrations of our manhood. Don’t you agree?” Even the ever-present log in lying against Moster’s pants leg was firmly outlined and appeared to be twitching a little, and the thin khaki fabric of his slacks covering it was now smooth and tight. Slowly the 17 others bodybuilders rose from their seats around the ring, one by one. 38 pairs of eyes stared at Casey intently. He glanced at the cocky little Joe Tiffany, and then over at Corporal Schumacher, who was now looking at him expectantly. “Okay, now, boy. This is Turkish wrestling. There are clear rules, but they’re different from American collegiate.” “Hang on,” said Moster. “We’ll get to the Turkish rules of wrestling in a moment. He stepped into the ring and approached Casey, now thick and dripping with oil. The men were now gathered on two sides of the ring, leaning on the ropes, leaning in to see what was coming next. For any other cadet introduced into the ranks, Sergeant Moster would have generally proceeded to paddle Casey’s hard young butt as the formal ritual of initiation. Last had been Private Tiffany receiving the red-hot butt cheek welcome, which he had borne stoically and proudly, displaying the twin globes of burnt-cherry perfection under the paddling. And after all, they had all gone through it, excepting Abdul, of course. Even Schumacher had known the firm, unrelenting hand of Moster on his butt. Hazing was hazing. But tonight, that didn’t seem to be happening. Abdul’s interesting wrestling challenge has precluded that. All were watchful. “Men, introduce yourselves. I was going to do this tomorrow, at Casey’s first workout, but now seems as good a time as any.” He turned to Casey and smiled. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to remember all their names just yet,” he added. “That’s good. I’m not very good with names.” “You’ll know them all, in time.” One by one, each man introduced himself. “My name is Private Leo Jin,” said the Asian man. “I’m 25 and from San Diego. I have been in the Project 8 years. My best bodypart is my forearms.” To prove it, the handsome Asian brought his beefy, fetchingly oversized forearms, walloping with solid muscle and veins, and squeezed the muscles hard. “I’m Private Dan Gunst, and until today, I had the biggest biceps here – except for Sergeant Moster’s.” Gunst flexed his mighty guns and then gave Casey a half-cocked smile. “Guess yours are bigger,” he proffered, respectfully. “I saw that this afternoon.” Moster glanced at him questioningly. “Oh, yeah,” he added. “I’m from Milwaukee, I’m 27, and I have been in the program 3 years. Hi, Casey. Welcome again.” “Hi, Dan!” Gunst sat back down. Moster eyed Casey carefully, wondering when the little capsule might take effect. Casey seemed cheerful and happy. Around the circle they went, each muscleman getting to his feet, politely introducing himself, offering basic information, and then showing him his best bodypart. “I’m Steve Waring, and my best bodypart is my traps.” Bulge. Flex. Steve Waring “I’m Rene LeFevre, and my best bodypart are my pecs.” Surge. Bloom. Bulge. “I’m David Duncan, and my best bodypart are my triceps.” Rip. Bulge. Bloom. Flex. “I’m Schumacher.” He said nothing else but grudgingly offered a front lat spread. Casey nodded without expression. This guy was not to be messed with. Eli Meyer signed with ASL. Casey nodded, showing some intelligence. Moster was pleased. Then Meyer turned around, bent over, grabbed his ankles, and showed off his hams, bulging through the khakis. He turned back and Casey gave him the OK and thumbs up sign. “I’m Chris Hension, and my best bodypart – “ “Is my FACE!” shouted Corporal LeFevre. “I’m a refugee from a lost episode of ’21 Jump Street’!” “Smack me around a little and I’ll follow you forever!” added Chad. “He’s our little boyband musclepup,” explained Blankenship. “Shut up,” yelled Hension, visibly embarrassed once again to be labeled the squad pretty boy. All the men were laughing now. “My best body part is my quads.” He started to rotate them. “And my baby blue eyes,” shouted LeFevre again. Hension was confused and humiliated but continued to show his quads, blooming in his tight khakis. “I think it’s his butt!” said Waring. “It’s okay, Chris,” said Casey. “Your quads are awesome.” Hension looked up, hopefully, and Casey felt compelled to go on. “And I think you’re very handsome indeed.” Hension smiled hugely at Casey, his heart beating a little faster. Gee, he thought. Wow. He gazed at Casey, who was now turning his attention to Private Waring. “I’m Private Ryan Waring, and my best bodypart are my delts.” He extended a powerful arm and began to rotate it. Suddenly Hension spoke up again. “I’m 22,” he blurted out, “and I’m from Toledo!” The men laughed again, and Hension hung his head a little and stuck out his lower lip. Next to him, Chad patted his thigh comfortingly. Casey saw him wink at Hension, who straightened up a little and smiled weakly. Casey’s head was spinning. He was inspired past all understanding by the mind-boggling panorama of muscle before him. And he was part of it. About then, he noticed that the room seemed to be getting a little brighter and a little hotter. He was staring again at Moster’s leg log. “Private Lang,” said Lang. “I’m 28, I’m from Lansing, Michigan, and….” He looked a little helplessly at Alvarez, sitting next to him. “My best body part is……um….” “Your back. Your lats are your best body part,” said Alvarez with quiet encouragement. “Yeah, I guess it’s my lats.” He turned and flared his lats wide. Alvarez clapped him approvingly on his butt. Lang smiled and sat, and Alvarez got up. “I’m Corporal Julio Alvarez, I’m 32, I’m from El Paso, and my best bodypart are my biceps.” He flexed. “Gunst’s are bigger but mine have sick peaks.” He popped them back and forth. “See?” Casey was indeed impressed. “Nice. Sick.” Gunst yelled in good-humored protest and flexed his own guns. Casey looked between Alvarez and Lang. Alvarez glanced over at Lang. “No, we’re not related,” he said. “They’re just joined at the wrist and ankles,” called out Gunst. “More like mouth and cock,” muttered Blankenship loudly, winking at Casey. It was Private Tiffany’s turn. “Casey and I will be meeting privately soon,” he boasted, and made a show of wiping the corner of his lips with his index finger. The men laughed knowingly – all but Corporal Schumacher, who looked down into his lap and seethed a little. Moster watched him intently. Something has to be done about Tiffany. But he didn’t worry. Though Tiffany didn’t know it yet, something was already happening. Casey felt a touch flushed, but his head was suddenly amazingly clear. Suddenly he spoke. “And what’s your best bodypart?” he asked. The stammer was gone, but only Moster noticed it. “What do you think?” Joe Tiffany turned around, bent over and grabbed his ankles. He pulled his gym shorts tight at the crack of his butt and proudly displayed his magnificent bodybuilder glutes. “Cupcakes!” said Gunst gleefully. The men howled. Schumacher made a show of laughing, but all he could do was glare. “Wow,” said Casey calmly. “Very pretty.” Tiffany's Butt after Squats Moster smiled inwardly. Good. He’s responded. And this boy responds well to White Caps, he thought. “No one’s had it yet,” said Tiffany confidingly as he straightened up and turned around, tucking his t-shirt back into his shorts. Then he winked. “Except in group.” “Group?” Casey was obviously perplexed. The men shouted with laughter, which died down sheepishly as, looking around the room, each man eventually shrugged and acknowledged it was probably true. None of them had had Tiffany yet. “I haven’t, anyway,” grumbled Schumacher, and the men laughed again. Tiffany sat back down and ignored Schumacher’s look. “Too bad,” said Casey. “Shame to waste such a pretty little behind.” The laughter died down and the men stared at Casey. No one knew what to say. “What’s ‘group’?” repeated Casey. Silence. On the sidelines, Alvarez raised his head a little. He exchanged looks with Moster. White cap? he mouthed. Moster looked away. Alvarez smiled and leaned in. He nudged Lang in the ribs. “Ow,” said Lang. “This is gonna be good,” said Alvarez in a low voice. “And I’m Karim Abdul. My best bodypart? My whole fucking physique is my best bodypart. As you are about to find out.” He flexed, whipping through pose after pose, his heavy cock bulge, dripping with oil, whipping left to right in his wrestling singlet. Snap. Snap. Snap. Casey could hear it slapping against his thighs through the man’s singlet. “All very impressive,” said Casey, looking pointedly at it. Moster smiled again. The cap had taken effect. “Okay. Turkish wrestling. Rules. One: there are few rules.” Abdul ticked off the rules on his fingers. “Submission: the “crush.” A fighter can get his opponent onto his stomach and then trap him by sprawling on top. If I can keep you down with your face, I can then turn you on a half-nelson for a pin.” “What if you can’t do it?” asked Casey bluntly. “If I can’t crush you, the referee has to begin us again from a standing position.” He ticked off another finger and looked Casey right in the eye. “I am not restricted from placing my hands inside my opponent’s kispet…” “Hunh?” “Your poser. I can also use the waistband to hold you in place. If I yank your poser so far below your hips that you are exposed, I win. Okay. If I can lift you entirely off the ground … “Fat fucking chance.” “Whoa,” breathed Hension. The temperature in the room seemed to raise 15º. Abdul paused, tense, and continued. “…and carry you five paces in any direction, that is a “carrying” pin. Got it?” “Yep.” “Okay.” Abdul looked at Casey. “You wanna go?” “What are we waiting for?” “Let’s wrestle,” said Abdul. He clapped his hands together and strode into the center of the ring. Ever since the mention of ‘group’, Abdul had been a touch shaky – or so Moster thought. Still can’t acknowledge how much he likes musclebutt. To say nothing of getting pissed on,” thought Moster. “Sure thing,” Casey answered, slick with oil and now quietly confident. Pedro scampered to the side of the ring and squatted eagerly to watch. Abdul began to bounce around, heel-toe, heel-toe, flexing his fingers, stretching his arms behind his head, limbering up. “Let’s go, man.” “You got it, man.” Casey hunkered down. “Center of the ring, gents,” said Moster. The men began to circle one another. “You wrestle till one of you gets a pin,” Moster instructed, now in the ring and getting between them. Casey flexed his biceps. “Big peaks, man. Like ‘em?” “Seen bigger,” said Abdul. He crunched forward, did a most muscular, his veins popping like railroad tracks. “How ‘bout you? Like what you see, faggot?” he asked. Casey just smiled, hunkered lower. Abdul palmed the crotch of his singlet. Casey smiled and refused to look down. He grabbed his own crotch, pendulously looming in his bulging posers. “Big handful, man.” “Watch it, boys,” said Moster. “This is a friendly get-to-know-you match.” “I already know him,” said Abdul. Moster snapped his fingers to Dr. Irving, now on the unpopulated side of the mat and with his ever-present video camera whirring. He dug in the pocket of his white lab jacket, wordlessly tossing him a whistle. Casey and Abdul met each other in the center of the mat and stared one another down. Their noses touched. Abdul grinned, ear to ear. Casey followed suit. Both began to gleam with anticipatory sweat. “Wow…..” breathed Hension. His hand shot down into his pants and he began massaging his stiffening tool. Moster pushed the two apart and blew his whistle to start the match. “And……wrestle!!” CLICK HERE FOR PART 2!
  8. This is a story by Speaker from the old Evolution Forum written in 2007, which never got the credits it deserved. Sadly the story is unfinished and there seems to be no way finding the author now. Therefore, I am posting this story on his behalf, hoping he will see, like and continue the story. If the author wishes to take down the story, then I will do that. I also took out the liberty to correct spelling mistakes and revise a passage or two, as well as add a little bit at the end to open up for more possibilities for this story to be continued. Hope you enjoy! Help me find the author to ask for a continuation or permission to continue the story. ______________ "Paradise" by Speaker (Sept, 2007), revised by MuscCanon (2016) Joey woke up, not having the slightest clue whatsoever as to where the hell he was. He was content to simply lay back on this sinfully comfortable, warm bed, and just relax. Joey had no idea how he'd gotten here either, but he really wasn't complaining. He just had no desire at all to move. His bliss, however, was not everlasting. After simply lying in bed for what unkindly felt like about three minutes, he heard a voice above him somewhere. "So, still asleep are ya?" Joey had no desire to answer. Part of his brain wondered if he was drugged, because he normally was not this sleepy, and answered any question he was given. Unfortunately for him, that was not the part of his brain in control, so he just continued to lay there, mute. "Figured..." Joey felt a needle pierce his skin, and when he still made no movement, the suspicious part of his brain knew that there was something wrong. The needle emptied into him, and after about a minute of continued bliss, he stopped being so sleepy. He sat up and looked around. Whoever had spoken to him was gone now, leaving him alone in this cell-like room. There was the incredibly comfortable bed, a door, and lamp. Nothing more. Joey stood up, noticing while he did so that he was completely naked, which seriously embarrassed him, as he knew that there was no chance that there weren't cameras in this room. He put one hand over his privates, and walked to the door, where he was not surprised to find it locked. He sighed, "Wonder what the hell this is about." He muttered to himself as he walked back towards the bed. He sat on it, and given that he really had no choice in the matter, stopped hiding the fact that he was naked, exposing his average dick and balls to the free air. Normally he'd be scared in a situation like this, where he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there, but Joey at least thought things through. Scared or not, he was here anyways, and there didn't seem to be any chance of escape, so why be afraid if you can help it? He hummed music, to distract himself from the fear welling up deep inside of him. The door opened suddenly, and Joey stood up, covering his cock and balls with his hand out of instinct. A man in a white lab coat walked in and smiled at him. Joey instantly relaxed, but he kept a hand over his crotch just to be safe. There was something about this man's friendly, smiling face that put him instantly at ease. It wasn't hard to notice that the doctor absolutely had to work out like a beast whenever he wasn't working wherever they were. His lab coat was huge, but it had to be to hold a man as huge as he was. His upper arms completely filled the upper portion of the sleeve, and even through the coat Joey could see some of the incredible definition in the man's arms. His pecs forced themselves outward from his chest, arrogantly pushing the lab coat out far enough from the front of his body that it almost looked like a table. Joey had no doubt that this man would have trouble seeing the rest of his body if he looked down, simply because his huge pecs blocked the view. Except maybe his cock, which was, although Joey couldn't see it clearly through the material, obviously exceptional. His thighs filled his pants to bursting, and his face topped it off. The guy looked like he couldn't be a minute older than 21 years old. He was a Latino obviously, from the tone of his skin and his black hair and dark eyes, but he was also the sexiest Latino that Joey had ever seen. His white teeth stood out perfectly from his dark brown, perfect skin. His black, curly hair was cut short, and he had an impressive 5 o'clock shadow around his perfect face. The man was absurdly sexy, the kind of man who would put Mr. Olympia to shame, while having the face and dick of the best male model in the world. Joey's dick immediately, and obviously, hardened fully under his hand. The man grinned, and said to him, "There's no need to cover that up. I get that reaction a lot. My name's Miguel, and I bet you're wondering what the hell you're doing here." Joey nodded, and the simple tone of Miguel's reassuring voice brought his hand away from his dick, exposing it's hardness to anyone who cared to look. He simply couldn't take his eyes off this man. Quite a large part of him wanted to put his hand back on his dick and start stroking, but he wasn't prepared to go quite that far... not while Miguel was looking anyways. "Simply put, you are in essence a guinea pig. I know putting it that way sounds cruel, and I assure you it is not. I'm one of the first people who was tested you know, and now here I am, working to continue the testing." Joey finally found the courage to unglue his tongue, "Yeah but what is it you're testing?" "In essence it's a combination of a muscle-enhancement formula the military has been using, and a sort of fountain of youth. Guess how old I am?" Joey guessed, "21?" "Try tripling that. I only look 21 because of the formula, but I'm actually 64." Joey gaped at the man, who didn't look like he could possibly be 64, but if what he'd said was true, then of course it was possible. Duh, he thought to himself, he just said that he was 64 and that the formula made him look younger, so of course he doesn't look like he's 64. All that thinking didn't stop him from wondering how it was possible though. "But if it's a fountain of youth thing, then why am I here? I'm only 18. Are you trying to make me younger?" Joey thought in horror of having to start puberty again if he was going to be shrunk. "Well no. See it actually happens by us injecting a sort of template into a person. That template overrides your genes for age, and muscularity and sort of bootstraps itself in, but it leaves the rest of your genes alone. Of course, everyone doesn't end up the same height and weight, but it's reasonably close, and the rest of your genes determine how you grow when you lift weights, even after you've grown from the formula. That's why we're all muscular and look like we're 21 years old. It's because the template makes us look that way, but the rest of our genes are in place, which is why I'm Latino, Antonio is Italian, Brandon is black, and so on and so forth. You aren't the first person we've tested who is younger than the age that the rest of us are, but the first person came through perfectly and we want to see if it works well on everyone. That's where you come in. Joey stared at the man. He'd understood almost half of what Miguel had said, but he at least comprehended the most important things like if he took the formula then he'd become a 21-year-old muscleman. He really didn't care about the rest of whatever Miguel had said. If all he'd said was 'We're going to make you a muscular man.' Then that would have been enough to hook him! "So, whaddaya think?" Miguel asked, "Do you wanna do this?" "Hell yes!" Miguel led Joey into another room, this one with an ominous looking machine in the centre of it. There was a large glass tube in the heart of the machine, easily big enough to hold two men comfortably. The tube was surrounded by other wires and there were other tubes that entered the glass one in the centre. He assumed, correctly that he was supposed to get into the big tube. Miguel nodded when he gestured at it and Joey got in it. He entered the tube and heard Miguel's voice from a speaker somewhere inside. "Don’t be afraid, but the other tubes are going to attach to you." As soon as he said that, the tubes inside the main chamber attached to his body. One to each leg, each arm, and one to his chest. He looked at them apprehensively, as they were as thick as two fingers in diameter. "Those are for the muscle mass you're going to be gaining. You're going to gain weight in muscle mass, and that mass has to come from somewhere, so we inject it straight into your bloodstream with these. I know they look big, but that's to get the growth over with quickly because I won’t lie to you, it's painful. Knowing that do you still want to proceed?" Joey nodded. He didn't care if it hurt if it gave him a body like Miguel's. "Ok. I'm starting the procedure." Through the tube into his right leg a small amount of a purple fluid entered his leg, which began to burn immediately. It hurt, but Joey gritted his teeth and attempted to ignore it. "That's the template. We have to wait a minute for it to circulate to the rest of your body before we can actually start the growth." It was probably the longest minute of his life. The fire in his leg, spread up into his dick, up his abs, chest, arms and even into his head. It was like being forced to stay in a campfire even as he slowly started burning. "Ok, here we go." He heard Miguel say Blue fluid rushed into his body from the tubes. Joey grunted as the fluid entered him in five places. He felt, rather than saw, his body starting to swell. He really didn't care about the muscle growing along his body at the moment. He suddenly understood what Miguel had said. He really did want this over with quickly. Through the pain though it was impossible not to notice some things, like how his thighs forced each other outwards, forcing him to adopt a wider stance. How his back thickened and widened, forcing his arms out wider. How it was getting difficult to look down over growing pecs. How his body itched as hair grew in. All those were easily ignored however at the pain. He screamed as his bones lengthened, and the muscle fluid just kept pouring in. The growth had only taken another minute, but it had felt longer than that when it abruptly halted. The door of the chamber opened and Joey staggered out, unaccustomed to walking with massive thighs. He looked up, panting and saw Miguel slowly stroking his really thick, uncut, Latin cock and staring at Joey. Miguel walked over and pulled one of Joey's thick arms around his shoulder. "Tired eh? I know that transformation takes a lot out of you." Joey nodded, still staring at Miguel's thick dick. It wasn't hard for Miguel to notice this. "Sorry but the transformation is pretty hot to watch, even if it's not so fun to experience." Joey managed to gasp through his panting, "Are you... gay?" Surprise filled Miguel's face, before he laughed suddenly. Joey looked at Miguel in confusion. "GAY?! Of course we're all gay! That's the one prerequisite for the transformation you know. I can't believe I left that out. You have to be gay or the transformation won't work!" Joey stared at Miguel, who was laughing so hard tears fell out of his eyes, and despite being riddled with residual pain (which was quickly ebbing), felt like the happiest gay guy on Earth. "How many people have had this?" Joey asked, not panting as much anymore. "About 100 now. We try to keep it relatively quiet, but it's hard to do so with a hundred 21 year old horny musclemen in one place." "In one place? So we don't leave here?" Miguel smiled at Joey. "You can anytime you want." It took Joey only a moment to understand. "Yeah I wouldn't want to leave either. Not with 'a hundred 21 year old horny musclemen in one place.'" Miguel slapped his hand on Joey's newly broad back. "Now you're getting it. Look you're probably exhausted. I was when I transformed. Just let me take you to a room and you can rest up a bit before you meet the rest of the guys." Joey nodded. He let Miguel practically carry him to a much nicer room than the one he'd previously been in, lay him down on a bed, and he was sleeping the moment that his head touched the pillow. ----- Joey woke up, energized. He noticed that he was sleeping naked on top of the sheets but didn’t care at all. He sat up and stood up, marvelling at how abnormally easy it was. Normally standing up really wasn't much of an exertion, but people usually do get tired of it after a few hours. Joey instinctively knew that he wouldn't. He jogged into a private bathroom, noting that the room he was in looked more like a hotel suite than anything, complete with a balcony overlooking some ocean from atop a cliff, although he still didn't know where he was. Joey stared at his new self in the mirror. He was huge, easily 6'1" tall and he couldn’t be a pound less than 300, which he quickly confirmed on the scale in the bathroom. His chest was absurdly huge, like two massive dinner plates had been grafted onto his torso, and adorned with a half-dollar sized nipple. The crevice between his pecs looked deep enough to lose things in, although he knew that was an exaggeration. His pecs were so smooth, there was no hair to be seen. This gaze led him down over his 8-pack and then to his cock, which hung at least half-way down his tree-trunk thighs. He'd noticed that it was hard to walk, and gazing at his thighs gave him a shrewd idea why. His calves looked as though someone had shoved a football under them. He looked up again, this time at his arms which hung out of bowling ball sized shoulders. His guns had to be at least 24 inches around, if not bigger. He went into a double-bicep pose and stared at the proud peak which stood up from his arms. Veins covered his biceps and his forearms, which were absurdly thick as well, even at the wrist. Last, but not least, he stared at his face. His brown eyes somehow had more of a lustre, a shine than previously. His face was covered with brown shadow, and he noticed that he really needed a haircut. Joey grinned at the man, and the man in the mirror grinned back at him. He swaggered back into the main room, even though there was a separate room with a TV, a sofa bed and a computer. Joey doubted that he'd use the TV and computer but he had to marvel at the computer. Before his transformation, he would have been astounded at the quality of it, but now he really had no desire to use it. He looked around but found nothing that even looked like a dresser with clothes in it, so he shrugged and walked to the door. There was a note pinned there. ____ Hey! Welcome to the community! I'm Antonio and since our rooms are across the hall from each other, they asked me to give you a bit of an explanation, but I really didn't want to wake you up. The rooms are private and are set up to allow access when it scans your hand. We've already put in your fingerprints so if you want to get into your room, just put your hand on the panel next to the door and it'll open up. If you wanna know more, just come across the hall. I'll be in my room until 6 tonight. There's a clock next to the bed if you dont know the time. Antonio ____ Joey read the note, and looked at the clock. It was only 3 in the afternoon so he walked out of his room, into a carpeted hall which looked like nothing more than a hotel hallway, with rooms stretching along it. He walked across the hall and knocked. He heard feet moving and the door opened. Antonio was the epitome of an Italian hunk. Joey had just undergone his transformation and therefore hadn't had an opportunity to work out and grow any more. Judging by Antonio, he had only recently arrived too, but to Joey he looked like nothing less than perfection. Joey had a fair amount of brown body hair, but Antonio's pelt put his to shame. Antonio's chest was covered in about twice the black hair as Joey's was in brown, and it only continued down Antonio's abs, surrounded an impressive cock, and covered his legs as well. Antonio's short hair was curly and he had, like every man here apparently, an impressive black 5 o'clock shadow around his mouth. His muscles were about the same size as Joey's, but his body practically screamed 'HUNK' to Joey. Joey stared, open mouthed at Antonio and Joey could feel his dick harden as he stared. Antonio only grinned. "Hey man I was wondering when you'd wake up." Like Miguel, despite Antonio's obviously Italian heritage, he had no discernible Italian accent. "Joe isn't it? Come on in!" "It's Joey." Joey muttered and followed the Italian stallion into his room. It was physically the same as Joey's room, but there were the unmistakable scents of man, sweat and a fair amount of cum in the room that only aroused Joey further. "Ah ok Joey. I'm Antonio, and it looks like we're the next best thing to roommates! I suppose you want to ask a few questions?" Joey shook himself, nodded, and asked "Are there any clothes?" "Why would you want them? We're in a tropical paradise, the room temperatures are permanently set to 80 so they're never cold, and all you'd be doing is covering up that glorious bod." Joey couldn't argue his logic. "Where are we?" "We are on a nice small island in the south pacific. It's owned by Dave, who had the original idea for this growth. He's actually only 30 but he's probably the richest person in the world. Inheritance you know. 'Course he doesn't look like he's 30 since he got transformed too. You'll meet him later. He was the first guy to be transformed and is the biggest of us because of it, although Miguel, the doc, is almost as big. Nobody comes here unless they're delivering food or bringing another person here to be transformed, and then they only see the front, where they see a massive resort for 'The rich and famous,' which explains why they've never met anyone who's been in here. The private beach is on the back side, which is in a little cove and can’t be seen from the outside. We've got everything here. An AWESOME weight room, all the food you could possibly eat, none of it junk food either so you can grow more. You name it, we've got it." Joey laughed. "Well that answers pretty much all my questions, but I’ve got another one. How old are you really?" Antonio smiled, "I'm 19. I was the first guy they tested the formula on who wasn't over 21, and you're the second." Joey grinned at Antonio. It didn't seem possible that a 19-year-old could have that kind of body, but then, he was living proof that it was indeed possible himself. Joey couldn't resist anymore. He reached forward and kissed Antonio on the mouth passionately. He loved the feeling of Antonio's rough facial hair against his own, which told him beyond a doubt that he was kissing a man, and that he loved every second of it. They broke off the kiss after about a minute and Joey muttered, "God I've wanted to do that since I saw you. You're so hot." Antonio grinned and muttered, "So are you." Then Antonio beckoned Joey to follow him. "I want you to meet someone." Joey walked into Antonio's bedroom and saw in bed, what had to be the most massive man here. The man had his huge arms behind his head, showing off what had to be 30" guns, and Joey couldn't even imagine the colossal chest the man had. The man's body was entirely hairless, save his eyebrows and a crew cut, but it only showed off his size even more. This man had the most freakishly huge legs you can imagine and they were covered with veins. The man spoke, "So you're Joey? I'm Dave, the owner of this place and the biggest fucker you'll ever meet." Joey was loving his 'tough guy' attitude. Joey walked up to the Dave's naked body, knelt and started sucking on Dave's massive cock. Or at least he tried. Joey guessed his to be about 14" hard, but Dave's had to be at least 18" and it wasn’t fully hard yet. He couldn't imagine what it felt like to have that inside of him. It was hard enough to get it in his mouth. Whilst sucking this huge cock he couldn’t stop feeling all over Dave’s huge legs and calves. Just a moment later, he felt a thick cock enter his ass. He didn't need to look to realize that Antonio had taken advantage of Joey's ass in the air and hadn't needed any more invitation than that. He released Dave's cock for a moment to moan with pleasure as he felt that 14" cock pounding away at his bubble butt, before he went back to sucking on Dave's cock with gusto and looked up at Dave’s face. His impression showed pure bliss. He must have been really enjoying Joey’s sucking. At the same time Dave was playing with his big nipples, which were hard and erect. It didn't take long before Dave's cock started throbbing hard and spewing a massive load down Joey's throat. Joey didn't know if he could swallow it all but he tried anyways. Suddenly his own cock began shooting its load all over the floor. He tensed from the pleasure, and that was enough to squeeze Antonio's dick with his ass cheeks and drive Antonio into climax as well. Joey was getting cum into him from his ass and his mouth and was shooting his own load as well. All at the same time. He was in the ultimate state of ecstasy. Nothing could ever match this. Nothing. He slowly felt himself getting fuller and fuller and started touching his muscle belly in shock. His ones flat 8 pack muscled abs were now replaced with a bloated but rock hard roid gut which kept growing bigger and bigger by the second. After five minutes of this pure, sweet sex Joey and Antonio stopped shooting. Dave, of course, continued for another minute or so before he too was sated. Joey grunted as he felt Antonio slide his thick cock out of his own ass. Joey released Dave's cock and stood up. The floor was covered with his cum. He'd shot at least a gallon, maybe two, and it was oozing along the floor. Dave looked at Joey’s new roid gut and laughed “don’t worry boy. All that cum will transform into muscles really soon. It’s the fuel that makes us grow. And by the looks of it, you have a lot of growing to do.” Just the thought of it made Joey hard again and leaking pre all over the floor. Dave was watching him, absentmindedly stroking his cock, which was hard yet again. "If you haven't noticed Joey, we can have sex pretty much 24-7, but most of us do other things as well. I, for example, am going to go down to the weight room and shame all of my other guests. Antonio, after sex, usually likes to go surfing at the beach, but of course, what you do is up to you. This is a pleasure island. You can do anything you want here as long as it doesn't harm or steal from one of the other guests. Of course, I wouldn't have brought you here if I thought you would do anything like that, but just to be sure, I'm laying down the rules. The formula is reversible and if you piss enough people off, we can reverse it, wipe your memory of this island and send you back to the mainland. I'd prefer not to do that, as you're one of the better cocksuckers I've ever encountered, and you'll look good with another 100lbs of muscle on you. So be good." He flashed a grin, and walked sideways out of the room. His yet again hard nipples hit the side of the door, which obviously gave Dave shudders and pleasure, as his dick leaked more pre on the floor. Antonio looked at Joey and smiled. "He's right you know. I like surfing after sex, but I guess I could be persuaded into a little more fun." Joey smiled back. He knew he could have Antonio anytime he wanted. But right now he couldn’t stop thinking about Dave. “Thanks for the offer, but I would really love to lift some weights. Getting my fully blown out roid gut down to a more reasonable size. Do you want to join?” Antonio was a little bit disappointed but changed his mood in a second. “Follow me, I’ll show you the way”. As both muscle hunks left the room and walked down the hallway, Antonio kept on pointing out who lived where and all the opportunities they had. Once they turned the corner, Antonio stopped in front of a particular door and obviously got nervous. Joey also noticed that Antonio’s dick got harder by the minute. Joey looked up at the door sign and read Miguel. “Follow this way, then turn left and take the elevator down to the first floor. You will find the gym right there. Don’t be shocked but what you will find there. I will follow you right after. Just need to finish some business first.” Antonio absentmindedly started stroking his cock. “Ok, see you around. Have fun.” Joey couldn’t stop smiling thinking about what Antonio will do with Miguel. Were they lovers? Once he reached the elevator and got in, he clicked the button with a big G.Y.M. sign to it. The elevator closed and slowly started going down. His head was full of ideas what he will find at the gym. But most of all he was looking forward to see Dave work out. Maybe he will be able to work out with him. What will Dave look like pumped? Is Dave still growing? How big will Joey grow? The door opened and what Joey saw made his dick rock hard in an instant. TO BE CONTINUED....
  9. Previous chapter: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster Chapter 16: Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After Casey’s first workout demonstration for The Nineteen that afternoon promised to be brutal – and awesome - as he had hoped it would be. He knew he would love every moment of it. He knew it would almost make up for the confusion and fear he had felt the night before. He would be as strong as a god, sailing through every lift, every rep, every set with strength he didn’t know he had. Almost make up for it. Not quite. But maybe afterwards, he could pose for them? Just a little? In the locker room, alone, and about to go before these crazy huge guys once again, he ruminated. He was, if he admitted it to himself, not a little leery about these guys. After all, he had a big black eye. And just about 12 hours ago, thick, creamy jets of cum had shot from18 firehose cocks and plopped down on him while he lay tangled in a sweaty muscle mass mess with Karim Abdul, both of them with swelling black eyes and bloody noses. Kind of a strange introduction to the world of supreme muscle he had been looking forward to for two years – and had been fantasizing about for far longer. “I wonder what Miles would say,” he thought to himself. He had glanced at his black eye in the mirror in the locker room. It was fully open, not bloodshot, just rimmed with black and blue. Not too bad. Actually, it looked fucking hot. He quickly did a side chest. Bam. Nips high. Rivers of striations. Yeah. Lookin good. He was hot. He knew it, too. Or, rather, was beginning to know it. He found his old sweats, thoughtfully hanging up and waiting for him in a large locker with his name on it, which he assumed was his. He noted that the lockers themselves were almost like storage units, not the shameful, small individual skinny things most gyms had. He looked up, slightly startled. Musclemen Gunst and Obatu were suddenly there at the end of the locker row, waiting for them. At first he barely noticed what they were wearing. But then he saw. “What the fuck?” “You ready?” “Uh. Yeah.” “Let’s go, then.” He stripped down fast, found his old jock in the locker, and grabbing his huge cock and balls, shoveled his heavy machine into the pouch. As always, it sagged heavily, groaning softly from the weight of his manhood. He glanced down the row. Gunst and Obatu were blankfaced. Casey threw his sweats on. “Now?” “…..yeah.” Casey slammed the door and waddled towards them, throwing a bathsheet towel over his broad shoulders. “Let’s go lift.” Gunst and Obatu brought Casey onto the workout floor. All of the musclemen in the squad were in attendance, naturally wanting to see how much weight the pretty muscle boy Casey could handle. After all, he may be huge, and all realized he was pretty fucking strong in the ring. He could move fast, and his mandatory poses last night were impressive. But could the dude lift? Could he train?? Dr. Irving stood by with the video camera, fussily taking his precise notes. And Zaftig was there, of course, hanging back, saying nothing, just watching, watching. And now, at least, Casey could remember the dude’s name. Dr. Zaftig. After all, this was the dude who was going to make him huge. He nodded shyly to him. “Good afternoon, Dr. Zaftig.” “Good afternoon, Casey. Welcome to Valhalla.” “Thank you…” “Let’s get going, Casey,” said Sergeant Moster. “You’re keeping us waiting. Again.” “I’m sorry,” Casey said. Moster frowned. No signs of reaction to all the White Caps swimming around in his bloodstream. There were, inevitably, more moments of muscle awkwardness to be had first. First off, Casey was entirely unprepared for the men’s workout gear. His usual workout clothes fully covered him, a ripped and worn outfit of dirty, sweaty baggies, a sloppy oversized sweatshirt that seemed to have been made for a man of 600 pounds, and full-length sweatpants, ragged and much the worse for wear. Even in these baggies, his bulge loomed heavily, swaying from side to side as he came onto the floor. Moster had changed into his full-dress spotlessly clean green uniform slacks, boots, and a skin-tight regulation t-shirt. His mammoth black muscles gleamed with ferocious power, and his crisp, clinging t-shirt outlined every peak, valley, cut, bulge, thick vein and crevice of his astonishing physique. Casey tried not to stare at him. He was oddly drawn to this black mountain of muscle. “I wanna be as big as you someday,” he said softly to himself. The squad, on the other hand, he nervously noted, were all dressed in White Cap Night Valhalla regulation gym gear: ripped, torn and ragged wife-beaters with muscles bulging every which way. Dripping sweat, muscles red and inflamed, their workouts over. No shorts, Army boots, heavy cable socks, and sweaty, swollen, looming Army-green mesh jocks. Bulging packages protruded, looming cocks, also swaying heavily with each muscleman movement, all around the gym floor. “This is how you guys dress to work out?” asked Casey timidly. Okay, so it was still weird. His question was ignored. There was a lot of barely sheathed bulging heavy duty muscleman dick on this gym floor. His own was more modestly covered. If just as bulging. And just as evident. And no one’s on the floor appeared to be as big as Moster’s. Once again he stared for a moment at the man’s obviously huge, looming penis, outlined clearly in his green trousers. He could see the penis corona, even the deep piss slit through the thick dark khaki fabric. Moster sure wasn’t ashamed of his cock. So maybe Casey shouldn’t be ashamed, either. And what Casey couldn’t know is that the men, just having finished their workouts, were delaying their shower sports. White Caps racing in their bloodstreams. And holding back. Not 10 minutes before Moster had sternly separated Blankenship and Lang from some foreplay, giving each man a quick spanking on their bare bottoms before all the other men. Afterward Alvarez pulled Lang back and eyed him dangerously. There would be words between them tonight. Lang was staring at the floor. Blankenship, of course, was grinning. Toothlessly. “How about starting off with some incline flyes?” said Moster. “You need a warm-up set?” “I wanna stretch first,” said Casey. Miles had always taught him the necessity of proper technique. Light warm-ups were part of that, though once he actually started lifting, what constituted a warm-up for Casey might be a final blasted set for another man. “Always smart.” The men stood watching Casey intently. “Don’t you guys wanna go workout somewhere?” he blurted out. “We’re done,” said Alvarez. “We’re waiting for you.” Abdul was staring at him with undisguised hatred. Tiffany was smiling sweetly, butter not melting in his mouth. Schumacher was blank-faced, and all the scarier for it. The others were intent, if blank-faced. Even Hension, whose thoughts were usually betrayed on his handsome face, wasn’t reacting much. He just was staring. They were all staring. Casey shuffled off to a corner of the Marley mat and began his stretch routine, arms swinging, legs kicking, gentle but firm. The men watched him. “He’s bow-legged!” whispered Hension. Loudly. “Yes, we see that,” said Alvarez, mocking the whisper. “I think that’s so hot….!” Casey heard a resounding smack! echoing through the room. “Ow!” Someone had hit Hension again. Casey, his face turned away, had to smile. Apparently the pretty boy got hit a lot. “Um. This takes 20 minutes,” Casey said. Suddenly he didn’t care what they thought. He was going to stretch. He started torso turns, his hands behind his head. Moster spoke. “Casey, we don’t have all day.” Casey turned back to him and repeated himself firmly. “This takes 20 minutes. I stretch for 20 minutes. If you don’t want to watch, don’t.” And he turned back, cupping his big hands together, continuing his torso turns. Moster smiled slightly. Good. The White Caps had obviously kicked in after all. It seems Casey required more White Caps for an effect, and the societal restrictions weren’t so easily abandoned. But the boy was asserting himself, and quite naturally. Zaftig was suddenly next to Moster. “He’s not so easily bullied,” he whispered. “Not like your other men. You won’t have your way with him so easily.” “You don’t think so?” “No, I don’t.” “Well, we’ll see, then, won’t we?” Zaftig frowned. Clearly, Moster wasn’t concerned about Casey digging in his heels at his first workout, doing it his way, defying the Sergeant. “What do you know?” Zaftig hissed at Moster. Moster, never taking his eyes off the teen muscle giant now doing rapid pushups, turned to Zaftig, laid his cards on the table. “The kid has never been worshipped before. He wants it, he needs it. He needs someone to tell him how amazing he is. And he needs musclesex. Badly. He doesn’t know how much.” “I see. It’s your musclesex thing again. Goddammit, Sergeant. This project is about youth and strength and creating the most fearsome army the planet has ever seen. It’s not about sex. It never was. It was about creating the perfect physical specimen. The most extraordinary physiques the world has ever known.” Moster smiled sardonically. “You’ve forgotten, Dr. Zaftig, or perhaps you never knew. Even when you were a young man. Were you ever young?” Zaftig smiled. “Amazing to consider, isn’t it?” Moster continued. “Everything for men is about sex. And bodybuilders? Even more so. And for these bodybuilders? All that times about 200. 500. All these guys want is to be admired. Worshipped. Sucked off. Felt up. Fuck. And, I might add, get fucked. Train, lift, eat, sleep, shit, fight, suck, get sucked, fuck, train some more, fight some more, fuck some more, suck some more, eat, shit, sleep. And,” he added sweetly, “…that’s about it.” “Fuck you, Sergeant.” But now Zaftig was smiling. He knew there was more to it. Wasn’t there? Moster sighed. “I’m sorry, Dr. Zaftig. But that’s what you’ve created here. Millions of dollars poured into fucking machines. But look at the bright side.” He leaned in. “It’s going to make you millions, as well. All of us.” “I already have millions. I don’t care.” “Well, I don’t, and I do.” “By the way, how did the boy get that black eye?” “Looks pretty hot, don’t it?” “Less than 24 hours in the compound and already someone’s slugged him.” “Don’t look too closely at Abdul or Blankenship.” Zaftig glanced over at Abdul, sporting a shiner of his own, and noted the missing teeth of the blond bomber beauty Blankenship. Zaftig groaned inwardly. Another trip to the dentist. He hated having to take the men off the mountain. But there was a dentist in San Jose who fixed up the men regularly, regular hygiene, capping, replaced teeth, crowns, implants, the works, and charged nothing, content merely with big biceps flexed in his face while he sat in the chair playing with his tiny dentist dick. Then, Moster to Casey, “You about done there, boy?” “No, sir.” “All right, then.” The men were getting restless, shifting from foot to foot, now staring at Zaftig and the ever-cool Moster. Alvarez was the only man on the squad who seemed calm and in control of himself. A fact not unnoticed by Moster. Or Casey, for that matter, now secretly watching all this play out for himself. He was beginning to catch on that there was even more to these big dudes than just training, taking this crazy drug, and spanking their monkeys. “Men, time for some biceps curls,” Moster announced. “All of you go do 15 sets of light reps. 25 reps per set per arm. No ball busting, now. Get to it. No more than 25 pounds. I mean it.” He turned back and smiled at Casey. “We’ll wait until The Boy is ready.” Okay, so he was The Boy again. Zaftig wasn’t done. “In a few months the Joint Chiefs will be here for review. I want Casey ready and I want the men at their sharpest, and no funny business. Intensify their training.” He turned away. “You leaving?” Zaftig turned back. “Hell, no” he smiled. “I want to see my latest boy wipe your men all over the floor. Maybe you’ll listen to me then.” Moster nodded. Inwardly he had to admit he respected Zaftig deeply. The man may have been a puny genius with no body, but he wasn’t dishonest, and he was clearly unafraid of Moster. He had no personal need for muscle worship, and never bothered the men. He was, at the end of the day, a partner Moster could trust, if never take advantage of. He admired that. Moreover, Zaftig had never indicated another other than scientific curiosity about Moster’s treetrunk tool. That was a plus on his side, too. Moster turned to Casey and called out. “Okay, you’re done,” he said, brooking no denial. “What’s your starting weight for inclines?” “Um…..180?” Hension, 20 feet away and now doing the ordered biceps curls, stared at Casey. “Damn!” he squeaked. He put the dumbbell down and scratched his barely covered balls. “180?? To start?” Casey looked away, trying not to notice. That boy certainly was pretty. A perfect face. Without realizing it, Casey licked his lips, staring a little at Hension, who, gawking at the muscle monster, inadvertently smiled back, absently scratching his balls. The exchange did not go unnoticed. Lang nudged Alvarez, who nodded sagely. “180 it is. Let’s see what you got.” Moster strode to the bench, grabbed two 180-pound dumbbells as if they were sacks of feathers, and handed them to Casey. Casey took them without a blink, two sacks of feathers. And so the workout began. One by one, the men re-racked their light weights, approached the bench where the giant Casey lay, ready to lift. Casey’s perfect technique was evident from the start. He smoothly lowered his huge bulk onto an incline bench. He raised his arms into position, the two dumbbells easily held aloft overhead. In no time he reeled off twenty reps of perfectly calibrated incline flyes, then peeling off into overhead presses, gently touching the dumbbells one another, then down to the tips of his big brown nipples, outlined in his oversized sweats. His chest bloomed, rivers of sweaty muscle flowed, the pumped pecs seemed to reach to the ceiling as he pumped. “Pow, pow, pow, pow,” he breathed to himself with each rep. Light stains of pec milk appeared on his sweats. “Wow….” breathed Hension. “Do you see that??” “What’s next?” “Do it again.” “Okay.” He reeled off another set. The men watched him stonily, now all gathered around the bench. More pec milk appeared. “Now?” “Do another.” “Sure.” He did another set. Finishing, he clanged the weights to the floor. “Can I work with something heavy now?” Moster smiled. The White Caps had taken effect. He shot a look over at Zaftig, who merely raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Certainly, boy. Take it to 220.” So he was still Boy. “Anyone have gloves?” “Sure, Case!” Lang reached into his bag and tossed a pair to Casey. Casey smiled a little, hearing Lang call him by the same nickname the cadets down the mountain did. “Thanks.” He caught the gloves and slipped them on. Everyone was watching now. The red light of the video cam continued to blink. Standing next to Lang, Alvarez was blank-faced, but not unapproving. In the corner, Dr. Zaftig now had his head tilted back, musing. This boy will go the limit, he thought. No matter what Moster says about what the men really want. This boy is different. He’s pure muscle, and nothing else. No, that was not right. He was muscle, cock, and butt. This boy would be worth millions. And very, very soon. An uncommon sex machine of the first power. Innocent Casey, unaware of the plans being made around him, rose, took the two 180 pound dumbbells, and re-racked them, two sacks of feathers back to the their featherbed. He strode down the line and grabbed two 220s, returned to the incline, lowered his bulk, and reeled off another set of 20 reps, grunting loudly and blowing out air with each rep. More milk flecks appeared on his shirt. He blew sweat and spit, began to groan mightily. “ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh….” When he was finished he set the dumbbells down gently on the marley floor, and looked up at Moster. Absently he wiped the milk away from his nipples with thumb and forefinger. “Nicely done, boy,” said Moster. He spoke loudly to the group. “Notice that Casey does not drop the weights.” He looked pointedly at Jin, who was famous for throwing the weights to the floor after the punishing final set of any lift he did, excepting squats – where he re-racked as noisily as possible, all while screaming. Jin looked back, defiant. “Why do you do it that way, boy?” Casey shrugged. “Way that Miles taught me, I guess. It’s harder.” “Miles?” “Miles Donovan, Raw Weight Gym.” So that was it, thought Gunst. Miles Donovan. He should have known. Donovan was a biceps freak, and hosted many others in his gym, taking their pay-offs for private posing from men who liked to blast big guns in the faces of the hapless, endlessly paying schmoes. No doubt Casey had been a major revenue stream for the notorious Donovan gym, he reasoned to himself. Of course he had to have huge guns. Miles would have seen to it. Blankenship grinned, a front tooth missing and looking all the hotter for it. “Yeah, makes sense, he came from that old horn dog Donovan’s gym. You worked out on the 3rd floor yet?” Casey looked at Blankenship a little blankly. “Um. No.” Obatu spoke up. “Casey is still too young and green for the 3rd floor. Besides, he has been training at the cadet gym down the mountain for the last several months. Haven’t you, Casey?” “Yeah, I guess. What’s next?” “You flat bench?” “Sure. How much weight?” “Let’s see what you can do.” The squad backed away a little as Casey, gripping each elbow and stretching his arms over his head, walked towards a row of flat benches. Gunst despaired a little. He was wrong. Casey wasn’t posing and being paid for it at Donovan’s. Which meant he’d built those mountainous biceps on his own. “Lose the shirt!” squawked Hension. “I want to see your nips milk!” “’Kay,” said Casey. He stopped, slipping out of his sweatshirt, folding it up carefully. Underneath he wore a baggy green t-shirt, which may probably have been at one time a pup tent. “My nipples always make a little milk when I train,” he explained. “See?” He reached under his soaked t-shirt to a nipple, gathered some white liquid, held out a finger dripping with milk droplets. “But it looks like I’m making a little more today.” In spite of himself, Moster was touched by Casey’s innocent neatness with his sweatshirt. And his explanation. “T-shirt too,” said Waring. “Not yet,” said Casey. Moster’s eyebrow raised a little. He glanced over at Zaftig, who nodded. Good. Good. It was all good. The White Caps were claiming his ego. Casey was showing signs he could stand up on his own. “Load up a starting weight of 360 pounds,” directed Moster. “You can handle 300, can’t you, Casey?” “Sure, easy.” Casey laid his bulk down on the flat bench while Waring and Lang placed eight 45-pound plates on either end of the bar. He began to suck in air in preparation. “Hey, can someone wrap my elbows?” he suddenly asked. “Sure. Washington, grab some heavy wraps for Cadet Rockland. Get to it. The man has to lift.” He lifted the bar off the bench and began to bench, pumping his enormous pecs. Now he was working his hardest. He was now more determined than ever to fit in with these huge men. He was going to show them now. The workout continued. Flat bench, declines, more flyes. All pecs stuff. More milk. Throughout the workout Hension, Lang, Jin, Bogarde, Washington, Meyer, Waring, Duncan, Chad, and Corporal Blankenship were cheerful and approving. They howled their encouragement and counted the reps. “10! 11! 12! 13! 14! 15!" Throw the weights, Casey!” "Okay to throw them?" Casey asked Moster, holding 600 pounds aloft, just about to bring it down to his milky nipples. He was calm. "If the men want. This time. Throw it when you're done." "Okay." He finished pumping, and instead of reracking... Clang! Casey threw the weight on the floor, sat up, grabbed the plastic bottle and chugged a half-gallon of water. Water poured from the side of his mouth onto his shirt. The men whooped and hollered. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and strode forcefully to the next weight. Immediately the men were counting again. “10! 11! 12! 13! 14! 15!” Clang! Wipe. “YEAHHHH….!” And on it went for 45 minutes of grueling, punishing lifting. Corporals Schumacher, Obatu, LeFevre, and Alvarez and Private McIntyre seemed more reserved. Corporal Abdul just grunted. But he was impressed, in spite of himself. The boy was training harder than he had ever seen. His muscles were blooming, seeming to grow as he watched. Gunst was quiet and watchful. Zaftig was beaming with professional pride. Moster remained aloof and keenly observant. And all the while, Dr. Irving followed every move with the video cam. The cocksure little Private Joe Tiffany cheered him on just as loudly. Casey pretended not to see the evil glint in the muscleboy’s eyes, but he couldn’t help it. He’d learned at the Home how to read signals. The Home…..hmmm. A memory appeared dimly, and, just as quickly, was gone. While resting between two punishing sets, Casey was still silently agog at the size of Moster’s muscles. Occasionally he found himself staring at the improbably large mound resting atop his CO’s left quad. The tip of the mound reached to just above the giant’s knee. He noted the other men seemed to be avoiding looking directly at Moster’s leg. Even though they all seemed to be sporting packages of similar size. Damn, their dicks are big, Casey thought. Are they real? And deep inside Casey, a little voice proudly squeaked…..”Wait until they see MINE…” Then he remembered – …..oh yeah.... They’d already seen it. And he had seen theirs, too. Sorta. Between his half-closed black eye. His hand went up, and he rubbed the black eye. Looked at Abdul, and his black eye. Adbul was smiling a little now. Not friendly, but hard - but still, a smile. Casey grinned wearily as he finally finished up with the last set of triceps pulldowns. Private Meyer, a big toothy grinning lighting up his handsome, beaming face, burst forward from the group, and pumped the newcomer’s hand. “Thanks,” said Casey. Meyer nodded enthusiastically. “He can’t hear you,” said Private Waring. Casey looked at Meyer, stricken for having forgotten that Meyer was a deaf mute. “It’s okay, he doesn’t mind.” Casey, touched, shook Meyer’s hand vigorously. Meyer shook his head cheerfully, touching his lips, and shrugged his shoulders to show that indeed he didn’t care that he couldn’t speak. Then he stepped back and proudly flexed his own powerful, round right biceps, smacking them with his left hand, and reached down to grab Casey’s wrists. He pulled his arms up encouragingly and Casey, getting the message, proudly brought his huge guns up and flexed mightily. “Mother fucker!” yelled Lang and Hension simultaneously. The men roared with laughter, and Casey colored a deep red, smiling sheepishly. Alvarez clamped that affectionate paw of his around Lang’s shoulders and hugged him close. But he looked worried. Something was on his mind. Behind them Hension eyed them both steadily, with longing. Meyer kept his hands on Casey’s obliques as if he was rotating his upper body for all to see. “It’s okay, plebe,” said Jin, laughing. “You’ll get to know us all.” While all through the devastating workout he had been stronger than he could ever remember, now he felt – well, almost frail – as if something, suddenly, was missing. “All right, men,” said Moster calmly. “Rec room in 15 minutes. Casey, shower up.” “Yes, sir.” “Men, file out. Casey, come here a moment first.” He glanced at the men, who leaned in, curious as to what Moster might be saying. “Well, Cadet Casey, it looks as if you’ve made it.” Moster spoke quietly. Casey looked up at him, and grinned wearily. “Thanks, Sergeant Moster.” The men gave him a round of applause, Casey noted that even Corporal Schumacher seemed to approve. He lowered his head, modestly grateful. Then Moster turned back to the group. They were still applauding. Casey was embarrassed, turning to go. He didn’t see Moster’s stone face shift into a slight smile. “Men, get dressed. Shower up. No play time. Get to it. I expect you all in uniform, neat and clean, in the rec room, in 10 minutes. Hop to it. Get a move on.” Then, to Casey, “Casey, use my private locker room to shower.” He pointed to a door across the floor. “You’ll find clean sweats in there. They’ll fit. Grab them after you shower. And no jerking off, boy.” Casey, embarrassed that Moster seemed to be reading his mind, nodded dumbly and headed to the door. He was worried again. He had only masturbated once today so far, and on a day like today, he needed a lot more….especially after that worship session with the cadets this morning. He was discovering….something….and his huge cock wanted to know more. But he went, dutifully, into the private locker room, showered, and changed into the clean sweats he found there. Before he left, he checked his guns and his pecs in the full length mirror. Flexing, he breathed to himself. “Damn. I’m fucking awesome.” And with the capsules still not in apparent full-force effect, dressed in baggy trunks and a clean, white light tee, he stumbled his way to the rec room. For what, he couldn’t tell. Probably more weirdness. But now, he was ready. Dr. Irving was there ahead of them all. He had set up chairs for all the bodybuilders in a semi-circle, with the inevitable video cam set up. There was a chair in the center, obviously meant for him. He glanced over at Moster, who nodded and gestured towards the chair. Casey waddled with his bodybuilder’s walk towards it slowly and sat. He looked around with anticipation. “So now what?” he asked. Zaftig took Moster aside. “This boy is gentle. We don’t want to break his spirit. He’s had a tough time and he just wants to make friends. Go easy on him.” Moster’s shoulders stiffened. The veins in his neck popped a little. He looked Zaftig dead in the eye, and said, “Being sweet to him now will kill him later. Is that what you want?” “No.” “Then let me handle it. I know what is best.” “Did you at least give him a capsule?” “Sure,” answered Moster. “He’ll be just fine.” “Doesn’t seem to have taken effect yet.” “He’s a big boy. Blood volume and all. It takes time.” “Fuck you, Moster.” Moster’s eyebrows raised slightly, but he knew not to protest. Zaftig was properly proud of his discovery. “You know fucking well that White Caps P-21 take effect immediately regardless of ‘blood volume’, if you want to put it that way.” “Dr. Zaftig, it’s my turn now.” “It’s always your turn.” Zaftig turned on his heel and left the rec room without further comment. Moster watched him go. The men were sitting impatiently. “All right, men. Let’s get to it.” He turned to Casey. “All right, Casey. Welcome. You’re one of the group now. We’re now….The Twenty.” “Yeah, baby!” “Bout fucking time.” “Tell him what that really means….” said Alvarez. “Spank him!” yelled Hension, and then, before Chad, sitting next to him, could swat him, he said, “Don’t you fucking hit me!” Chad did anyway. “Ow!” yelled Hension. Casey chuckled. “That’s gotta hurt. These dudes seem to hit you a lot.” “You will too, in time,” said Waring. “What did …he….”….um…” “Alvarez,” said Alvarez. “What did Alvarez – sorry – mean – when he said “tell him what that really means?” Silence. Casey continued. “I mean, what does it mean to be one of The Twenty?” Moster smiled. “Yes, let’s talk about that, Casey. Men, why don’t we show Casey what it’s all about?” Then he paused a moment. Casey wasn't reacting. He was just sitting quietly, albeit with great body tension. His muscles were hugely pumped, and Moster could see the fabric shifting as Casey's enormous cock began to uncoil in his sweats. Soon he would be hard. But the boy wasn't moving. Odd. Quietly, he asked, leaning in, “Casey, level with me.” He looked the teen in the eye. Casey couldn’t look away. Inwardly he was stammering. He was looking at Moster's crotch. “No, look me in the eye. Look up. Not down there. Up. How many White Caps have you taken?” “White Caps?” “The capsules. The pills. How many?” He gazed at him levelly. A pause. “Four, I think. Five?” He shrugged, weakly. "i don't remember." "Where did you get them? I gave you one...." "Uh..." Casey didn't want to indict the men on his first day. Weirdness notwithstanding. “Never mind. I can guess." Moster looked back at the group, all standing still, attentive, neatly dressed in their uniforms. And every cock seeming at attention, poling out hugely in their khakis. The men were ready to play. Past ready. Mmmmm. Not much effect on Casey, though, for 5 White Caps. A few moments of assertiveness and a powerful workout, but…..not much. "Are you feeling anything…unusual?” “Well….” Casey paused and looked away. He found himself staring at the men and their looming erections. Jesus. Here it came. Strong societal blockers, Moster thought. "Do you want to have sex? Like now?" No answer. Casey just stared at the cocks in the room. The men were deadly quiet. Then it hit Moster. Of course. “Casey, are you hypoglycemic?” Not so much to his surprise, even the dimwitted Casey knew exactly what that meant. Still staring the the men's rocket crotches, he spoke softly. “......I need oranges or candy bars sometimes.....” “They told you this when you were growing up?” “They told me in the Boys Home. My blood sugar. I have problems.” Of course. That was it. It happened sometimes. He reminded himself he had to mention it to Zaftig. It was the same for Obatu when he first checked in, and then, years later, for Eli Meyer. Since Meyer could neither speak nor hear and his sign language didn't encompass the subject of hypoglycemia, it took them a few days to realize that a cup of chocolate milk worked wonders on the tight glutes of the hot little muscle fuckee Meyer. Give the boy some cocoa and he'd take massive tool after tool up his butt for hours. He called over his shoulder. “Dr. Irving, please step into my office and get an orange. You’ll find a bowl of fruit on my conference table.” He turned back to Casey and smiled a little. “It’ll be just a moment. Then we’ll tell you what The Twenty is all about.” Irving left the room, used to being invisible except when ordered about. Moster stood up, in front of Casey. "It will only be a minute now." The men, behind him, were now pawing the floor like racehorses, ready to rock and roll. Casey, sitting, was now eye-to-crotch to Moster, in front of him. He stared openly at Moster’s enormous bulge in the fly of his uniform khakis, a thick pylon of sheathed cock snaking heavily along the edge of huge quad muscle, and gulped, looking up. Though Moster was the only man in the room without an erection, his penis yet appeared to be the biggest. “Yes, sir,” he stammered. And stared again. His heart was pounding. Moster put a hand on Casey’s beefy shoulder, kneading his fingers slightly into the thick muscle. “Hang on. It won’t be long now.” He turned to the men behind him. “Men? Drop trou.” Zippers unzipped, belts slipped out of belt loops and went to the floor, as the 18 bodybuilders – even Abdul – dropped their uniform slacks to their ankles. Pants down. Around the room. Now all the men were in micro posers. Those massive bulges were unleashed. Looming, heavy, hard, all already pointing straight out. Their cocks almost fully exposed except for the bulging, straining fabric barely covering cockheads. Some of the posers were ready to snap. Casey stared at them all. "Wow...." he breathed. "Men why don't you do some posing for Casey? You've seen his muscles. I don't think he's had the opportunity to see yours." "You, too, Sergeant," said Abdul. Moster looked at him. He paused. "All right, then." He unbuttoned his bulging dress shirt and slipped it off. Casey could almost imagine he could hear the groan of relief of the fabric, suddenly relieved of the need to stretch over the man's massive muscles. But he wasn't prepared for the massive musculature of Moster. Cocks and balls bulged forth, each man spilling half a foot of visible cock into barely sheathed pouches. Casey felt a dribble of precum shooting in his posers. “Arms behind backs!” barked Moster, clearly now the leader of the group. He turned to Casey and became one with his men. The Nineteen placed their hands behind their lower backs. “Spread legs!” All spread their legs wide, shooting their right legs out in choreographed unison. “Prepare!” Fists clenched, crammed in solid obliques. “Front double biceps!” All arms slowly rose. And 40 cannonballs of enormous power ball biceps snapped into ungodly peaks. The men faced straight ahead, all eyes high and level, as if gazing into infinity. “Jesus,” breathed Casey. He fumbled with his crotch a moment. His head was spinning. The lineup of 19 men stood before him, all flexing with massive front double biceps power. The black muscle god brought his arms down strode slowly across the room back to Casey. As he moved, his half-covered organ swayed heavily from side to side in his posing pouch. Behind him, the lineup of men continued to flex without wavering. He stood next to Casey, and impossibly, appeared to tower over even him. Dr. Irving returned with the orange. “Chow down on this, Casey,” said Moster as Irving handed it to him wordlessly. "Men, drop the biceps pose." The men relaxed. Hension snickered. "Yeah, chow down, Casey." Then, warning Chad...."Don't you hit me...." “Dr. Irving, would you get back to your camera, please?” Dr. Irving went back to the video cam, checking his clipboard, and began to tape. The men circled around Casey as he took a big bite out of the orange, and then another, and then another. A moment passed. Casey began to flush, a deep crimson red – and then, just as quickly – the flush faded. He looked up at Moster, and smiled. Broadly. “I’m fine now,” he said. “Casey,” asked Moster evenly, “have you ever sucked cock before?” “No, sir.” “Would you like to?” “Yes, sir. I think I would.” Snap! Snap! Gunst's and Blankenship's posers snapped. Their cocks bloomed free, swaying heavily, ready for service. Gunst stepped forward, but Blankenship elbowed him heavily out of the way. Gunst looked at him threateningly, raised his fist, ready to punch face. Moster stood back. "Easy, men. There's time for everyone. Who should he start with?” he asked the group. “I think he starts with ME,” said Abdul, striding forward, his hands on the straps of his bulging posers. The 14 inch shaft was fully exposed, the tendrils of Abdul's thick pubic hair shining in the rec room light. “Fine with me,” Casey said, still smiling. “How do I do this?” “Don’t worry. It’ll come naturally. Just let it happen.” Abdul took his position in front of Casey and pushed out his powerful hips. As Casey leaned in, Abdul roughly cupped the back of the teen’s head, and pulled him in close. "Get to work, boy..." Casey open his mouth. Wide. "Sorry about last night, " he said up to Abdul, who loomed over him, taking his mammoth cock out of his posers and aiming it. "Wider," said Abdul. "Can I pose for you guys later?" Casey asked. "Sure thing!" squeaked Hension. Smack!! "Ow! What did I say??" "I said OPEN WIDER," commanded Abdul. "Sure thing," said Casey. He opened his mouth wider. "Let's go." And so.... it began. **** Want to read "The Twenty" from the start? Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets
  10. Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets Chapter 17: The Presentation February 10th, 2018 2000 Hours “Rose, dim the lights, and please – please leave us alone. Lock the auditorium doors behind you when you leave so we won’t be disturbed. Does everything have everything they need? Wi-Fi connection good? And Rose….tell Dr. Irving to bring the men upstairs to the lab. We’ll be ready for them in about 30 minutes.” A crisp response in the affirmative. The auditorium lights dimmed. There was a tapping of sensible heels, and the double doors at the back of the Valhalla Laboratories Assembly Hall opened and shut quietly. The lock clicked. Dr. Ira Zaftig cleared his throat, took a drink of water, and looked out serenely at his audience. He clicked his remote. The screen lit up, the light spilling out into the chrome and concrete bunker auditorium. “Are we ready, Gentlemen? Good evening. Welcome to Valhalla Labs.” The Valhalla logo glowed on the 20’ screen. Zaftig’s calm voice echoed darkly into the far regions of the room. “Gentlemen, I know you’ve had a long day. Flying in from Washington, checking into your quarters, touring the facility grounds, and now, after that splendid dinner, I know you’re curious to see the results of our mutual contract with the United States military and the Joint Chiefs. The unveiling, in fact, of our great 15-year initiative.” The five Officers in the front row murmured quietly. Out of courtesy, one or two nodded. Admiral Walrus, the Joint Chief Chair and Committee head, was seated dead center. He said nothing. He waited. Well behind the officers in the half-light sat a row of junior officers and young aides in attendance to the brass. “We here at Valhalla Labs know that we have achieved stunning success. We’re proud to be able to share it with you tonight.” Zaftig spoke easily, confidently. He clicked the remote again, and the first slide came into view. In their swivel chairs, the five Pentagon Officers sat back and turned their attention to the image on the screen. And then they stared. “Jesus, Zaftig, what the hell is this?” demanded Admiral Walrus. “Gentlemen, I give you Prototype 1-A of Project Herculaneum, Specimen Casey: Mr. Casey Rockland.” The image of an impossibly huge, muscled behemoth of a young man was on the screen, presented in four views: front, left, right, and rear. He was squared-jawed, thick-necked, blue-eyed, and handsome, with a deeply cleft chin and full, luscious lips. His arms hung at his side, and his legs were spread confidently well apart. His gaze was centered straight ahead, his jaw set firm with business-like grimness, his head erect. His waist was impossibly slender, given the mass above and below, perhaps 29 inches. His cobblestone abs rippled insanely. His posture was that of a classic anatomy chart. Every vein, every muscle appeared to pulse right off the screen. The young man was clean-shaven. He had a short blond military crew cut, but his eyebrows were thick, dark black, and lustrous. The left brow was slightly elevated with cocky arrogance. His face set him at about 19 years, but the muscle density of his enormous physique made it difficult to precisely age him. Seated in the dark behind the officers, Ensign Sam Victor, Admiral Walrus’ coolly handsome young personal aide de camp, looked evenly up at the screen and took in the image of the young muscleman with cool calm. The muscle boy’s skin – for he was, with his angelic face, little more than a boy, at least in years - was shrink-wrapped over the most astonishing display of musculature Sam had ever seen. Every muscle group, every vein, every cut, every separation stood prominently sculpted, in separate relief from the adjacent muscle group. He wore only the briefest of posing trunks, which sagged deeply to expose the gently curving, then plummeting, upper 6 inches of his tawny-colored, vein-lined penis. His oversized ball sac bulged ferociously in the heavy pouch. The Joints Chiefs were stunned. In the front-view image on the far left, subject Casey Rockland displayed hugely rounded, shining, mountainous pectoral muscles, gleaming with powerful deep furrows of striations, punctuated with thick dark brown, 3-inch sand dollar-sized nipples, poutily pointing downward. His broad shoulders, thick powerful traps and heavy delts looked as if the boy could easily carry a 600 pound bull around a corral. His lats spread almost horizontally behind him like the outspread wings of an eagle. The mighty 3-headed biceps were triple slabs of muscle on each arm, huge beyond all reasoning, the forearms laced with networks of half and quarter-inch iron thick veins. The boy held his enormous hands at his sides, his heavy fingers and thick thumbs crooked slyly inward towards his bulging crotch. Smokestack quads rippled and burst with muscle, and he was supported by a set of calves that ballooned behind him. His feet were enormous, with large thick toes and perfectly groomed nails. His tanned skin glowed with health. Sam assumed the subject’s teeth were probably perfect, too, but for the moment his gaze was leveled just below Casey’ rippling midsection. Well, well, he thought. Let’s just look you over, now. Just who are you, buddy? Superman? Captain America? Tiny Yokum? Johnny Holmes? Naw. This was no cartoon character. No porn star. But no superfreak that Sam had ever encountered before – and he had known many – could boast the cock this boy had. Between his legs in the front view hung a monster penis, less than half covered by the straining, flimsy Spandex posing trunks. The top half of Casey’s shaft was plainly visible. The trunks loomed heavily with the outlined round bulge and piss slit of his cock head. The generals were now murmuring loudly in shocked disapproval. Admiral Walrus just sat and stared. Behind them in the darkness, most of the aides and junior officers avoided one another’s glances. A few men gazed meekly down into their laps, looking up only furtively with appreciative eyes. A few stared outright. “This specimen, gentlemen,” intoned Zaftig’s voice out of the dark, “or, if you prefer, Private 1st Class Casey Rockland, is at present only one the world’s most perfectly-developed men. There are, of course, 19 other specimens.” Sam let out a low whistle. Ensign Tyler, to his immediate left, caught it. “There are 20 of these dudes?” Sam murmured to Tyler. “There’s a challenge for you, Sam. Never known you to turn your back on a challenge.” Tyler responded. “Shut the fuck up, Tyler, or no play time later.” Tyler smiled sardonically but said no more. Sam leaned back to enjoy the view. His brought his big hands behind his head, and leaned back in his seat to contemplate. He focused on the image of Casey’s crotch and allowed himself to dream, if just a little. Casey’s testicles bulged heavy and full in the sac of white Spandex, and the top quarter of the shaft of the penis spilled out and curved visibly downward before being enmeshed in the barely restraining pouch. The cock appeared flaccid, but no matter: the thickness was like tube of a flashlight, and the cock head bulged and pointed down with insistent heaviness. Under the thin sheath of Spandex, Sam could make out the long, curling, resting shaft, the rim of the bulbous cock head, the bulging cock head itself, the inviting piss slit, and the 2-softball scrotum. Curled tufts of iron black pubic hair spilled out from beneath the poser’s tightly hemmed edges. The poser straps strained mid-hips, threatening to burst from the weight. In the left and right side views, thick horseshoe triceps rippled along the battlefield-ready arms, their huge round sweep arcing backward. His pecs bloomed mightily, those taut brown nipples still tantalizingly pointing down. Lower, brick-like washboard abdominal muscles tapered into that impossibly slender yet powerful, vascular waistline. His obliques curved up and outward with menacing power. The roundness of the hard butt and the sweep of Casey’s hamstrings jutted past the back of the line of his head. In the rear view, his deltoids upended mightily blending into mountainous traps, soaring into a thick network of back muscle. His legs were spread wide. Two tight globes of thick, oblong gluteus muscle curved below a rock-solid butt shelf of power. His rocky butt glistened with sweat and oil: a blissfully full, solid, fatless furnace of power. Each splendidly ripped butt cheek appeared to be glancing slightly to the side, barely opening the center spread. Mr. Rockland’s poser was as inadequate going as it was coming, and unable to hide the deep red cherry butthole, which glowed invitingly around the right edge of the tight thin strap that traveled and sank into deep, darkened buttcrack. Below, the exponentially huge, shaped and separated hamstrings exploded, supported by freaky split calf muscles. Get a grip, Victor, Sam thought to himself. It’s just a picture. In his loose white Navy uniform slacks, Sam felt his own cock twitch longingly. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and reaching down surreptitiously beneath his regulation belt, his slipped his hand into his rapidly knotting underwear. He rearranged his package. Next to him, Tyler was doing the same thing. They caught each other’s eyes, and in spite of themselves had to suppress immediate blasts of explosive mirth. “Quiet, back there!” barked Walrus. Then: “We came here tonight to see a fucking muscleman?” he said dangerously to Zaftig. Tyler was suddenly seized with a fit of coughing, and Sam busied himself with his laptop, seemingly taking serious notes. Lucky he thought to bring it, he mused. It was covering a fierce erection, now pushing protestingly out of his tight uniform trousers. “I think you’ll find all the men interesting, Admiral Walrus. This specimen, Casey Rockland is 19 years old. He is 6’- 7” tall,” said Zaftig, now in full control. “He weighs 335 pounds. Casey was enrolled in the project formally only a few months ago, when he was just 18. Already he has made extraordinary gains.” Sam noted that the men on either side of him seemed to be breathing more heavily. His cock stirred heavily in his pants, and Tyler was still fooling around with something in his lap. He glanced down the line. Even in the half-light of auditorium he could see that all of the men were beginning to sprout fierce trouser trouts. Even the straight men. “Hmmm,” he thought to himself. “I wonder…” Zaftig continued. “Casey has 1.5% bodyfat. He’s in splendid health, his heart very slightly enlarged perhaps, but his blood pressure holds at an even 130/80. Casey’s lungs are clear. To our knowledge, he has never in his life smoked a cigarette. He can run almost 30 miles per hour for 2 to 3 hours at a stretch. He bench-presses 800 pounds, and can easily perform single arm curls at 160 pounds. He squats easily with 500 pounds, and has been known to do deadlifts of 600 pounds in a set of 25 repetitions.” Zaftig coughed modestly. “Casey is also an accomplished gymnast, and can hold an iron cross on the rings without moving for 5 minutes. His extreme flexibility enables him to land from a flying dismount into a full 180 degree split.” Baby, breathed Sam to himself. Come to daddy. He licked his lips just a little. Tyler was taking short, shallow breaths, as if he was hyperventilating. “Calm down,” Sam chuckled to Tyler, who was trying in vain to appear neutral. Tyler elbowed him sharply. “You calm down…” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. Sam smiled and ignored him. “Go, man, go!” came a breathless voice from down at the end of the row. Clearly Sam and Tyler weren’t the only men excited by what they were seeing. Zaftig clicked his remote. A new slide appeared with Casey holding a front double biceps pose. “Casey has 26 inch biceps,” Zaftig continued. “His waistline measures 30” after a heavy meal. His quadriceps are 32 inches, and his chest, when expanded, measures a rather staggering 69 inches. His calves and his forearms are, respectively, 20 inches and 25 inches.” Yes, I was going to ask about Casey’s dimensions, Sam thought wickedly. He glanced right and left and observed his colleagues were probably wondering, with various degrees of personal interest, the same thing. “He eats 8 times a day, about 15,000 calories daily, a special diet of lean meat protein, clean animal fat, and low carbs. He drinks between 5 to 8 gallons of water during the course of a normal day. He trains 4 days a week, and the other three days he is required to remain at full body rest and in meditation, so that his body may fully recover and continue the growth process. His workouts are not shade less than brutal. Still, we are very careful not to overtrain any of the men, but because of Casey’s particular passion for heavy bodybuilding, in his case, we have to be unusually strict and watchful. He’d be in the gym day and night if we allowed it. Fortunately, over the years, we’ve learned better.” “I’ll bet you have,” thought Sam. “Casey’s also a black belt in karate and could be a champion extreme fighter – that is, if I ever let him out of the lab.” Zaftig smiled devilishly. “He has a mean left hook,” he added. “He can knock a 250 pound man unconscious with a single punch. His vision far better than 20/5 – what you can see at 5 feet, he can see at 20. Casey doesn’t drink or do drugs. And he has never in the three years we have worked with him here at Valhalla had so much as a gram of processed sugar. In short, gentlemen, Casey Rockland is a perfectly-developed male specimen.” One of the 1-star generals on the Committee blurted out. “Doesn’t do drugs,” General Needling echoed, as if appalled. “That’s a steroided physique if I ever I saw one!” he shouted. Walrus frowned. Another officer, General Wampum, added his harsh agreement. “He’s Ahhh-nold,” came a deep voice from somewhere in the junior officer row. “I’ll beeee beck.” Some chuckles, immediately silenced when Walrus, without turning around, sharply lifted an index finger to one ear. The men were clearly covering their growing excitement with feeble jokes. Zaftig continued. “On the contrary, gentlemen, there are no contraband controlled substances anywhere in Casey’s bloodstream. He’d test negative for any drug. No growth hormone, no insulin, no pain blockers. Nothing synthetic. I assure you there have never been any sort of street drug protocols at any time in Casey’s extraordinary development. Casey receives nightly injections of P-21, Valhalla Labs patented muscle-building enzyme, painstakingly developed by our technicians a decade ago, and unavailable to the general public. All of Project Herculaneum’s subjects receive nightly injections. There are no negative side-effects of any kind to P-21.” He paused for effect. “And it is not a steroid.” Zaftig let that sink in. Admiral Walrus snorted. He didn’t believe a word of this crap. He’d had enough, and the meeting wasn’t 3 minutes old. “What the hell are you talking about, Zaftig?” demanded Walrus. “Is this how you’ve been spending your Pentagon contract? Is this what you’ve brought us across the country from D.C. to see? A muscleman?! Some gym freak? Goddamn it, man!” “Admiral Walrus, sir, “ said Zaftig, his voice lowered to easy familiarity, “let’s just look at the facts. Casey Rockland is no ‘gym freak.’ He’s not simply “a muscleman.” Casey is the result of years of pain-staking research, protocols, hard-core training, and delicate systemic honing. He and the other 19 men we are presenting to you tonight are uniquely developed physically perfect beings. They are trained to exert control in all situations, and to follow orders to the letter. To the letter, I might repeat.” I can think of a few orders I could issue, thought Sam, shifting in his seat. Once again, his twitching cock was beginning to bind in his shorts. He mused if such wishful thinking might indeed have a payoff. The Generals murmured in low tones to Walrus, who nodded fiercely. “He looks – what did you call it?” Needling whispered again to Walrus. “He looks Photoshopped! How do we know this is real? No man looks like this!” Zaftig turned and faced the group. “Gentlemen, I assure you, there’s no trickery here,” he confided with a touch of theatricality. “Zaftig, this is a waste of our time.” Walrus started to get up as if to leave. The other officers stirred, hesitating. Zaftig resumed pacing. “Gentlemen, I confess, I’m disappointed. In fact, I’m speechless. You think this is all pure speculation?” He gestured at the figure on the screen. “Theory? Scientifically uncertain? Wish fulfillment, perhaps? Photoshop?” He paused for effect, and turned to a tall, lanky, owl-like man hovering at the end of the first row. “Dr. Shaft? Perhaps you might confirm to the Admiral…..?” He waited smugly. The Joint Chiefs personal physician, Dr. Shaft, was invariably called in as a paid expert on any matter remotely medical, for which service he balanced his time between coasts, living half his life with his annoying socialite wife of 35 years in an impressive Chevy Chase McMansion near the Washington, D.C. beltway, the other in a smaller, more secluded ocean-front home off the Pacific Palisades. Shaft had remained silent and withdrawn up to now. He turned meekly to Admiral Walrus, cleared his throat and spoke nervously. “Admiral Walrus….requesting your indulgence, sir, but Dr. Zaftig is quite correct. Casey – and the other 19 muscle specimens – does indeed exist. And his specifications and dimensions are just as Dr. Zaftig is presenting them to be tonight.” Walrus grunted. “After all, Admiral Walrus,” said Zaftig smoothly, “Dr. Shaft is your own representative in Project Herculaneum.” “And they’re all living here in this compound?” he demanded. “Now? Tonight?” “Yes, sir. They’re all in residence here at Valhalla Labs. You can see them for yourself in a few minutes, if you wish. In fact, we have planned on it.” A moment passed. Walrus resumed. “Get on with it, then,” he muttered. “It’s a waste of my time, but get on with it.” He snorted. “Admiral Walrus, sir,” said Dr. Shaft, placating him with superior charm. “Dr. Zaftig and the team at Valhalla are indeed introducing a species of super-beings. I have had the opportunity to personally review them myself in the not-too-distant past.” For years, Dr. Shaft had upon occasion enjoyed the discreet company of out of town young male visitors from Venice, California in his West Coast home, whose ‘careers’ on the bodybuilding competition stage he had generously funded. When Zaftig’s informant, one retired pro bodybuilder by the name of Miles Donovan, revealed Shaft’s little secret, Zaftig knew he had an ally, if an unwilling one, amongst the Joint Chiefs. He’d played his cards right, and covertly brought Shaft in months before for an unofficial unveiling. Shaft had been stunned into fawning speechlessness, and gratefully accepted a deal in exchange for support. Zaftig found the man useful but repugnant. And now - review the men? Is that what he calls it? “Let’s not exaggerate, Dr. Shaft. I haven’t created a species. After all, I’m not Victor Frankenstein,” Zaftig said humorously. “Aren’t you?” asked Dr. Shaft. “Who are they? Where did they come from?” asked General Wampum, glaring at Shaft. “They all came to me on their own at different times during the last 18 years,” replied Dr. Zaftig. “On their own, they were already splendid specimens, ranging in age from 18 to 40. Though I searched them all out personally, no one was recruited. Moreover, their dedication to this project is unquestioned.” Zaftig’s audience began to murmur. “This is crazy,” said Wampum. “Crazy?” Zaftig responded, his voice raising. “Crazy, you say? I assure you, General Wampum, these men are real and at the height of their development.” The officers all seemed to speak at once. “Perhaps, to satisfy your doubts, I might pause and take some of your questions now.” “They’re volunteers?” “Are they soldiers or civilians?” “What are their backgrounds?” “How about their general health? Are they medical freaks?” “Are they even Americans?” Walrus demanded to know. “Are they even human?” asked Wampum. “Dr. Zaftig, I have a question.” Sam raised his hand. Walrus half turned, but nodded, permitting the question. Ensign Victor may look like just a pretty boy, but he has brains and guts, Walrus thought. His gesture silenced the group, and he allowed the Ensign the floor with a slight nod of his head. “You haven’t mentioned I.Q. How sharp is Casey’s intellect?” For the first time so far that evening, Zaftig seemed to hesitate. He recovered instantly, but Sam caught momentary crack in the façade. “Casey has the normal requirements of intelligence for a gifted soldier,” he answered. Aha. “This man’s a soldier? He’s enlisted in the US Army?” demanded Admiral Walrus. General Wampum preened a little. “Casey Rockland holds the rank of Private 1st Class in the US Army,” repeated Zaftig, but offered no more information. “Dammit, Wampum, why didn’t you know this?” Walrus demanded. General Wampum stopped preening and slumped in his seat. General Needling came to his defense. “We didn’t know any more about this than you did, Walrus,” he growled. Zaftig turned back to the image of flexing Casey, resuming his presentation as if nothing had happened. He brought his pointer up, lightly touching the tip to the biceps of the left arm. “Note the triple biceps head,” he continued. “The unusually separated deltoids, and the dynamically thick trapezius muscles.” His pointer lightly tapped each muscle group as he spoke. “You see the unusually dense vascularity. Also, pay special attention to Casey’s thin skin. Men with this low bodyfat are often cold, their own bodies incapable of supplying sufficient heat, and their skin can be fragile. Casey is never cold. His metabolism prevents it. And his skin is as tough as rawhide.” I’ll just bet, thought Sam. Zaftig clicked through a series of images showing Casey stripped down in different posing straps, in a various array of training room shots and routines. He lingered on a final image of Casey in a deep leg squat, a barbell of several hundred pounds weight resting easily on his shoulders. His hams were so thick they almost touched the floor. Behind him his butt curved powerfully upward. Far from grimacing at the colossal weight, Casey’s handsome face appeared serene. The auditorium pinged with tense silence. The officers stared hard at Dr. Zaftig. Zaftig gazed calmly back, his mouth now a thin line of determination. Behind him at the head of the table, the screen was frozen with Casey in deep squat suspension, the only light in the dimmed room. Zaftig resumed airily. “Casey Rockland and the other 19 perfectly-developed specimens not only are living and training full time in this very facility, they’re thriving. Within this very complex, these 20 perfect men completed their second shift in another day’s hard training protocol 30 minutes ago. They’ve showered and changed two levels below us while we’ve been talking. In fact, they’re not more than 100 feet away from where you’re sitting now.” Sam’s ears perked up. Zaftig placed his palms on the dais table and leaned in towards the uniformed officers. “I am ready to present them to you now, if you wish.” He let the statement sink in for impact, and pushed away from the table. Behind the Generals and Admiral Walrus, the Junior Officers shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. All except Sam. This is getting interesting, he thought. “Perhaps I should do just that,” Dr. Zaftig said, “We might amend the agenda tonight. I think we need to break a little early. You all probably want to see the results for yourselves. Only then can you make an informed determination for your report.” He crossed toward the stage apron and turned to the group. “If you will all will be so good as to accompany me into the lab?” Confusion. The officers look dumbly at one another. Even Walrus said nothing. No one moved. Zaftig clicked his remote again, and the screen rose. “Dr. Irving?” he called out, climbing the stairs to the stage. “We’re coming into the lab now. Get the men ready.” He flicked some switches on a panel and the stage lights came up. At the back of the stage, a white-coated lab technician appeared, opening double doors. Beyond, the white glare of Valhalla Laboratories was revealed. “Admiral Walrus, Dr. Shaft, General Needling, Gentlemen: if you’ll all follow me.” Zaftig turned without a backward glance and crossed the stage to the opened lab doors. He turned and beckoned the group to follow him. A moment later the group rose, and with some uncomfortable putting away of laptops which had been hiding bulges, and with embarrassing shifting of slacks and trousers, which told the telltale signs of arousal, they crossed the stage and entered the lab. And with the notable exceptions of Walrus and Wampum, Zaftig noted with some satisfaction, that every man in uniform was sporting a straight-ahead trouser trout bulge. ******* Click below for the next chapter! "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - Inside Zaftig's Lab: The Musclemen Revealed
  11. Hi everyone! Welcome to Chapter Three. This chapter came about a few days ago as I was working out with a friend of mine and we talked about body dysmorphic issues we both have with out bodies, and how we both see ourselves as the fat kids we used to be. I haven't been fat for a long time now... but I have trouble not thinking of myself that way. The transformation sequence in this chapter comes from what my friend said he would evolve into if he had to become what he really was deep down inside. I think he enjoyed telling me about it too much!! Enjoy!!!! The Test Chapter Three: Destruction Chad and Jacob emerged from the ether outside Chariots in Vauxhall. Jacob had never been to a gay sauna before, but as he gazed upward toward his friend, he could see that Chad was practically vibrating with excitement. - Can you feel it? Each man in there is calling out to me. As each one experiences lust, desire, orgasm, or experiences any form of sexual stimulation, it is like a call out to my soul. I can hardly control myself. It is taking every ounce of strength I have not to take you right here, Jacob. I need to be among them. Chad walked away from Jacob and approached the door. Without even touching it, the door swung open, and he stepped inside. Jacob ran after him, nervous to be alone. William who had passed out towels and charged the entrance fee at Chariots for seven years was bored with it all. He had seen everything and there were no surprises… that was until the wind blew the door open, and the man in skin tight leather pants strode in. He had to bend down to get his muscle mass through the door. It also looked as if the door suddenly stretched itself to allow the man into the room, but no doubt that illusion was only due to the sudden heat that filled the room. William was instantly hard… something that hadn’t happened in 24 years, and he waved the man through without asking either he or his small friend for the 20 pound entry fee. He must have been so enraptured by the mere sight of this God standing in his presence that as he walked away into the next room, it seemed as if the leather pants disintegrated from his body, and he was totally naked. I definitely need to get my eyesight checked, William thought as the man’s perfect ass and back disappeared from sight. William placed his hand on his erection, the hardest it had been since he was 15. Waves of intense horniness passed over him, and he could barely think straight. Fuck it, he thought as he got up from his stool, and followed the man in. He needed to be with him… worship him like the God he obviously was. The sound of sex was everywhere as Jacob and Chat entered the main room of the spa. Fog filled the air and the smell of poppers came from every directions. There appeared to be twenty men in the room. Some were fucking, some were observing, some were masturbating, and others were simply talking to each other while stroking their cocks. Chad observed his disciples with pride. With one thought, Chad closed his eyes and released his scent into every molecule of air. It traveled quickly throughout the room reaching each and every man. Silence quickly overtook it. One by one, each man slowly stopped whatever they were doing and walked over to Chad. At first, they only stared, afraid to touch him. Filled with his own uncontrollable desires, Jacob moved next to his friend and began to lick and clean the deep grooves between his abs. As if Jacob had singlehandedly broken the damn, every man began to touch Chad, caress him, lick him, kiss him, and even fuck him. Soon Chad was brought to the floor by the men so they could better pleasure him. Sill not satisfied, Chad called out for more worshipers. From miles away, men who were straight, gay, and questioning stopped what they were doing and made their way to Chariots. Three blocks away the local gay theatre company stopped performing their production of Beautiful Thing when nearly every member of the audience (five lesbians remained in their seats) stood up and left the auditorium with the group desire to worship Chad. Even the cast walked away from the stage and followed the audience to Chariots. Within one hour of Chad being there, hundreds of men filled the room. They each took turns fucking Chad and even trying to be fucked by him. A few dedicated fisters succeeding in having him slightly enter them, and were rewarded with the most intense orgasms they had ever had. Every inch of Chad was covered with men pleasing him. Soon he could not hold back, and he began to spray the populace with his seed. Each man took in as much as they could, enjoying the sweet ambrosia that flowed from his loins. Momentarily awaken from his sexual haze, Jacob could hear each man emanating a sound from deep within their souls. It was a word. - Eros! Eros! Eros! - Why are they saying that? - They know that is my name. - I thought it was Chad. - Chad was my human name. Eros is now the name I possess. A wave of sadness filled Jacob. He suddenly realized his friend was gone to him. Chad had never really needed him, but there had been a certain bond between them that had seemed special. Now that he was a God, Chad, or rather Eros, needed nobody. The God of Sex and Lust didn’t need a human wingman or hanger-on. Jacob began to separate himself from the group and walk away. Noticing his friend was gone, Chad turned and with his powerful hand, picked Jacob up and deposited him onto his massive chest. - You can still call me Chad. I’d like that. As hundreds of men brought pleasure to his body, Chad moved his large head toward Jacob. Without any supernatural influence, both men began to kiss… softly at first, and then filled with more passion. It was the best sensation either had ever felt, and Chad began to cum again. ************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ Chaos materialized outside the lab building close to the Jeep Jacob had driven to his house. How long ago that time seemed, and how pathetic his life had been then. He had been a man pretending to be a God… yet here he was… a God disguising himself as a man. He breathed in deeply and attempted to get the whereabouts of the one he could only describe as his ‘new-formed brother.’ As he attempted to locate he and Jacob, a psychic punch threw him backward onto the pavement. Something powerful was blocking him from learning their location. Sparks of lightening shot from his eyes. His desire was to kill every human in his path with one blow… but he attempted to control his craving. There must be another way. Chaos stood up, dusted himself off, and moved closer to the Jeep. Taking a deep breath, he took in its scent. From the sensory explosion in his mind, he knew this was indeed his brother’s vehicle. He could smell human sweat mixed with cologne mixed with sex coming from the machine. Images of the many men his new-formed brother had fucked flooded his mind, and Chaos grew angry. How easily this man had lived his human gay life. Men had fallen at his feet, and he took them for granted. He took is existence for granted. Simply out of spite, Chaos reached out to his ex-wire and caused her to stumble and injure her back. Chaos grinned as he saw this occur in his mind. She was the one who had idiotically gotten pregnant. She was the one that had demanded a second child. She was the one who had entrapped him in a marriage and life he couldn’t stand. Anger bubbled inside of him again, and he threw is ex into a second contraction of pain. He clenched his fist tight as he continued the agonizing pain pulsating through her body. When he felt she could handle no more, he continued for another minute before setting her free. Returning to the Jeep, Chaos flicked his forked tongue at it, receiving tiny chemical molecules of information. In moments, he knew the exact location his brother had been in prior to arriving at the lab. A gym. Of course it was. The hunt was on. Now the fun could begin. Dark mist swirled around the figure of Chaos, and he disappeared. ************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ Adrian Brooks shut off the foyer lights and turned the lock in the gym door. What had once been a massive old warehouse with immensely tall ceilings had been converted three years ago into a gym that catered to casual gym goers and muscle heads alike. Admiring the empty gym club, he admitted that this was his favorite time of the day. This was when he had the place and all of its machines all to himself, and he could work out in peace. All day he sat behind the desk welcoming patrons, answering questions, making smoothies, and cleaning white towels. The next two hours he had, working out on his own always made up for the prior eight. Adrian was a self-proclaimed gym rat, and he took no offence when people told him that he had only one real love: his body. It was a true. He took better care of his body then anyone he knew, and would rather work out then go to a pub any night. He hadn’t always been this way. Adrian had been a fat child, unhealthily attracted to chips and Coke over veg and water. Believing she was showering love on her only child, Adrian’s mother overfed him every chance she could. By fifteen, Adrian was severely overweight, had several health conditions including chronic anxiety, was bullied at school, and hand the lowest of self-esteems. One day in July two years ago, despising that he needed to hide his body behind baggy track pants and sweatshirts and couldn’t wear the shorts and skinny jeans he saw other men sporting, he decided to take his life into his hands. He began cooking his own healthy food, jogging little by little every day, and began reading up on current health and nutrition. In October of that same year, after loosing more than four stone, Adrian took his first step into a gym. With money he had saved from birthday’s and Christmases, he hired a personal trainer to show him the ropes. In no time at all he saw the faint outline of muscles replacing the fat that had once possessed his body. In a year and a half, Adrian was half the size he had been, proudly showing off his newborn pecs and biceps, and wearing the tightest clothes possible. When the front desk job at the gym became available, he jumped at it. The job meant working out for free and spending all of his time in a place he thought of as his second home. Now at age 20, Adrian stood before the mirror and flexed. He had come a long way, but still there was room for improvement. Removing his T-shirt, he focused on each muscle group, flexing in the mirror, and then judging and debating what he needed to do next to make them larger and more prominent. He knew he needed to shave his chest again. The light brown hair that coated his pecs and flowed down over his abs matched the hair on his head and stubble that had risen on his face today. Now that the gym was empty, he could do the one thing he had fallen in love with doing: working out in only a jock strap. Lifting without any clothes on allowed him to easily tune his mind with his body when he could clearly see the pump he was getting. When he opened his own gym one day, he would encourage this. Of course, it also sexual aroused him, but this was beside the point. Anything to do with muscle turned him on. He lived his life for muscle morning, noon, and night, and nothing would stop that. Adrian stacked the plates on the sleeves of the bar and began his set of bench presses with a cool 175. He completed 20 reps with this, and returned the bar to the catcher. He stood up and wet to load 25 more on each side when the lights in the gym began to flicker and go out. The emergency lights turned on, and the room was slightly illuminated, but mostly bathed in shadows. The temperature in the gym appeared to Adrian to also be rising, and he wondered if something was wrong with the Shoreditch powergrid. Beads of sweat began to emerge on his forehead and upper lip, so he reached for his towel and dried himself off. As he turned, he could see what appeared to be the air on his right ripple and bend. What could only be dismissed as an optical illusion or the sudden rise in temperature, Adrian leaned down and reached for his water bottle to cool off. - Could you be of some assistance? Adrian spit out some of his water, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the man speak. Looking to the shadows that bathed most of the space, he saw a man clothed all in black standing halfway across the room. - I’m sorry, mate. We’re closed. Adrian wanted to ask the man how he had gotten into the building, but he couldn’t help admiring the muscular physique he had. The man standing in front of him was simply immense with a size, that was practically unheard of. Most certainly a professional body builder, he thought, and a friend of the owner. He no doubt had his own key. That’s how he got in. Damn his size was monstrous. - I was just finishing locking up and going home myself. Thought I would get a quick chest workout in, but honestly, I’m knackered. I really should be getting home. Do you often work out here? I’ve been coming here for two years, but only started working here about six months ago. Adrian stopped talking because he knew he was just blathering on. The man dressed all in black simple stared at him and smiled. - No. I’ve never been here before. Though I doubt the equipment here could give me the pump I require. The man bounced his pecs for Adrian causing him to get slightly hard in his jock. Slowly the man walked closer to where Adrian was sitting, touching pieces of equipment as he passed. Each piece he touched suddenly rusted before Adrian’s eyes, and collapsed into a pile of dust on the floor. In shock, it took Adrian nearly twenty seconds of seeing this before he moved to run in the opposite direction. As he hoisted himself up to run into the locker room, his arms supernaturally turned completely to rubber, stretched, and distorted themselves around the bench press machine, tying themselves in a tight knot and forcing him to lie still on the bench. Although his arms were totally made of rubber now, the pain he could feel was agonizing, and any movement he made instigated the torment to rise. Closer and closer the man came until he stood right before Adrian. - You’re going to help me, aren’t you… little man? - What do you want? - Tell me who this is. The image of Chad developed in the mirror in front of Adrian. - That’s Chad. Chad Mitchell. - More. - He’s a trainer here. I think he’s worked here for a year now. - More. - I don’t really know any more. I swear. I don’t really know him. Chaos grinned and sat himself down on the bench as close to Adrian as the massive man could. With one figure, he began to stroke Adrians chest. For a moment Adrian was afraid he was going to touch him and he would disintegrate like the machines, but nothing happened. - More. - Ummm… he’s not a bad guy… he can be a bit of a jerk… kind of full of himself. - And have you ever seen this man? An image of Jacob took Chad’s place. - Yeah. That’s Jacob something or other. I don’t remember. They work out together. - Right. Chaos took his nail and began to run it over Adrian’s nipple. - And where do you think I could find Chad Mitchell. - I have no clue. I really don’t. I’m sorry. I really want to help, but he left hours ago. Chaos started flicking Adrian’s right nipple. - Hours ago? How many hours. - I don’t remember…it’s what… 9 now? I think he left at 5 or 6 Chaos continued to flick and play with Adrian’s right nipple. With lightening speed, Chaos squeezed his nipple tight sending shockwaves through Adrian. When he let go, milk abruptly started to pour from it. Chaos leaned over, and with his snake-like tongue lapped it up. - That is your fear leaking out of you… and it tastes delicious. - I want to help… please! Maybe he’s at XXL. He talks about going there a lot. Chaos grabbed the left nipple and proceeded to squeeze that one as well. Like the other, milk began to flow. Like a thirsty animal, Chaos continued to lap up the milk, his tongue burning Adrian as it touched his skin. - Please, God!! Please help me!! Chaos looked Adrian in the eyes and laughed. - The God you call on has abandoned you. Only Chaos remains. - Let me look in the files to find his address. I’m sure it has to be there. - Truthfully… the thought of my brother tires me at the moment. I’m suddenly much more engrossed in you at the moment. You taste so marvelous. You want to play some more with me… don’t you? Chaos rose to his feet and stood before Adrian. Mist whirled around the lowermost half of Chaos, and his black jeans and boots evaporated and in their place were two muscular horse legs and the most enormous hooves Adrian had ever seen. Chaos grabbed onto the hairy shaft that extended down the middle of his legs and began to stroke it, causing what was inside to elongate and harden. From within the shaft, Adrian could see a ginormous horse cock begin to emerge. - It’s time to play, Adrian. It’s time for you to play with Chaos. Without knowing how it happened, Adrian found the bench that had been supporting him had disappeared, and he was naked, and his arms were now tied to a metal rack, bending him over, ready for Chaos to fuck. An invisible finger began to play with Adrian’s hole, forcefully trying to open him up further. - Please, don’t! Please! I’ll do anything to help you! Anything!! Chaos stopped, frozen in place. He tried to lift his feet from the ground but found that he couldn’t. Even with all his strength and might, Chaos found himself immobile. Mist wrapped itself around his legs, and he was once again clothed in his tight black jeans and knee-high boots. Chaos screamed into the shadows of the empty room: - Who’s doing this? His scorpion tail tore through the ass of his jeans and swung wildly around behind him. Since he was facing away from Chaos, Adrian wasn’t sure what was occurring, but he could hear the loud sound of destruction the tail was making as it swung around, smashing into the mirror and overturning machines. - I have allowed you your little temper tantrums and show of dominance… but not it is my turn to display my power. See how… like a puppet... I control you. At the mere sound of Asarualimnunna’s voice ringing in his head, anger welled up in Chaos. - No one controls me! The tail swung and shattered another of the mirrors. - Quiet!!!! An invisible sword cut through Chaos’ tail, severing it from his body. With a heavy thud, it fell to the floor, twitching as if it were still alive, and then dissolving into a puddle of sludge. - I am your Creator! I control you! I have always controlled you! Say it to me now, or I shall snuff you out of existence. Through gritted teeth, Chaos spoke the dreaded words: - You are my creator. You control me. - Good. I will destroy you, Chaos though. I will destroy you. - Now, as you play with this human, Eros has gained nearly 150 worshipers. In his mind eye, Chaos could see Eros being worshipped from head to toe; each second more joined in the revelry. - You’ve disappointed me, Declan. I had such high hopes for you. Hearing his human name spoken by Asarualimnunna shamed Chaos down to his core… and enraged him. - Let me play the role of Creator then. Let me give you this human to help free you from your prison. Eros is doing nothing to help you. I am here to do your bidding. - Unfortunately, you have proven yourself untrustworthy. - Try me. If I fail you, then be my judge and executioner. Silence. Chaos wondered what Asarualimnunna’s decision would be. He received his answer when Adrian appeared standing in front of him. Adrian wasn’t sure what had happened and what had freed him from being raped by the man in black’s massive horse cock, but whoever did it, he was forever grateful. If only they would take him away from this psychopath. Adrian’s heart beat quickly as he saw the man in Black slowly begin to grow larger and larger, ripping through his clothes. His back snapped right below his Adonis belt as two massive horse legs grew to join the two already standing on the floor. The man’s torso grew longer and harrier, massive horns grew from his head, and a large scorpions tail swung from his hind end. When the transformation was complete, Adrian couldn’t believe what he was standing before. He had never seen something so incredible yet so filled with evil. - Look upon my true form, human. Larger and larger the creature grew until he towered feet above Adrian, his mighty horns nearly impaling the ceiling. - You have been chosen by Asarualimnunna and myself to take your place among the God’s. - Please let me go. - You beg for mercy when all I want to do is free you. I look within you and all I see is sadness. Let me be the father you never had. Let me give you the universe. Let me give you power beyond your wildest dreams. The words echoed in Adrian’s head. He wanted to close his ears so he couldn’t listen to the massive Centaur, but Chaos had a way of entering into his soul. - Tell me what you are. - Please - Tell me what you are. - I’m nothing. - That is not true. Look within yourself and tell me what you are. - I can’t. - Look at what I was. The image of a stern middle-aged man with grey thinning hair and with a half-way decent physique appeared before Adrian in the mirror. This was once the creature that stood before him, thought Adrian. This fairly average looking man was now so imposing, so regal, so god-like. - Simply from looking within, I discovered what I really was, and Chaos was born. Look within yourself. Look. Afraid of what he might see, Adrian looked within and saw himself at 16, fat and lazy. Hating this image, he tried to run from it but it engulfed him until it was all he could see. No, he thought. This isn’t me. Not anymore. As he fought his past, the image began to morph until it became what he was today. - What are you, son? - I’m muscle. - Yes. Look deeper. - I am strength. - Yes!! - I am muscle built upon muscle. - Continue! - I am perfection. I am stronger then any man who has entered this building. I tower over them. - Are you my soldier? - No…. I… I think I’m more. - I know you are… and now you must take your place. Through the many realms of existence, the birthplace of all supremacy began to glow, powering the gem stone. Rays of light shot from the gemstone in the laboratory and into the ether. Chaos felt it enter into his soul. Taking in Adrian as he stood there, Chaos released it through his eyes. The moment the beam hit him, Adrian feared every word he had said. - No! Please! I don’t want this! - You have looked within and admitted what you are. The power now fills you. Adrian felt every inch of his body start to slowly vibrate with a power that came from the God’s. He tried to fight it with all of his mental capacity, but found it harder and harder to concentrate on anything but his body. He was his body. He was muscle. What else did he need to be? Perhaps the man was right… - No!!! - Don’t fight destiny, Adrian! I can feel the power filling you, caressing you, embracing you. - You can’t have me. - I already do. Stop fighting me and become what you were always meant to be. Adrian fell to his knees. The energy that coursed through every cell of his body was quickly raising his temperature. Sweat poured out of every pore. Chaos flicked his tongue and enjoyed the scent emanating from Adrian. Any second now it will begin, he thought with a wicked smile. Any second I will have my first soldier. Adrian screamed out in agony. He opened his eyes but found it difficult to focus. When he closed them, all he saw were the visages of armies of muscular men… each larger then the other. They were calling to him. Join us, they said. Take your place among us. Adrian reached out his hand to touch the herculean image that had appeared in his mind’s eye and discovered that it was him. When the two hands met, his word exploded. The sound of bones shattering filled Chaos’ ears as Adrian cried out. Every bone in his body was cracking and becoming lengthier and denser. His spine began to elongate as both his legs and arms grew further from his core. The bones of his skull cracked and rearranged themselves as the skeleton underneath grew and refined itself. Adrian reached for his face, trying to hold it together, but found it difficult to control his elongating hands. Through the pain, he opened his eyes and gazed at himself in the mirror. He could no longer identify himself from the stretched out creature he saw revealed in the mirror. Minutes before he had only stood 5’6, but now he had to be nearing 6 feet. He tried to stand erect, but his feet were too long… everything about him was too long. Once again, he tried to stand, and found that with time he was able to balance himself. His head rose up past the mirror now and continued his journey. Through his fear, Adrian heard himself giggle. Once he was looked down upon by everyone… now he would stand above them all. He laughed again but was thrown off balance by his own body. He landed on his ass with a thud. Looking at himself in the mirror again it looked as if all of his hard gains had been stretched out over his body forcing him to look like a tall emaciated skeleton. He crawled to the mirror the best he could and looked at himself closer. The heat emanating from his core was slowly tanning his body to a golden brown. If he didn’t look so sickly skinny, he would have thought it was the healthiest he had ever looked in his life. As he continued to examine himself, the stretching stopped, and there was silence. Adrian slowly got to his feet and moved away from the mirror so he could see himself completely. From what he could guess, he had to be nearly 7 feet tall. His face had elongated and thinned drastically, and the nose that had been broken twice by his drunk father had repositioned itself into a perfect Roman configuration. His jaw was sharp and angular, and his lips had a slightly pouty look he had never had before. Due to the massive heat emanating from him, every single hair on his body had fallen out and now lay on the floor… even his eyebrows. His torso was incredibly extended, finishing with the longest and scrawniest legs and arms he had ever seen. Even his penis had elongated. It flopped down in front of him half way to his knees and was as thin as an earthworm. When he grabbed the disgusting thing with his skeletal hand, it could have easily encircled it several times. With terror in his eyes, Adrian looked to the man in Black. - What have you done to me? - Patience, my son. That was only the beginning. Chaos blinked, and the energy flowed from within him again, and into Adrian. Adrian was thrown back slightly, but he maintained his balance as he felt his body getting heavier and heavier with muscle mass. - I’m growing! Adrian relished in the feeling of his muscles multiplying on his body. Larger and thicker each muscle became. No longer did his legs look like sticks, but massive tree trunks with awe inspiring calves and quads. A light dusting of blonde hair began on his legs and spilled lightly up the newly formed cobblestone abs. One by one Adrian’s abs popped out firmer and thicker, the crevices between them growing deeper. Adrian lusted after this perfect six-pack that was appearing on his lower torso, and just when he thought he couldn’t get enough, two more appeared on top. An eight pack!! I can’t believe it, he thought!! His waist caved in deeper giving Adrian the most awe inspiring and physically illogical wasp body. His waist was a mere 32 inches and his chest erupted into a massive 58 inches. Adrian felt up his own chest, loving the pecs that had grown there and the deep crevice that had formed between them. As he touched his nipples, the areoles grew larger, darker, and more sensitive. Adrian’s lats spread out wide from his back, but his arms, which were hard and full, were long enough and in proportion to this incredible form that they still rested down on his sides. His neck became a wonderful column of muscle holding up a beautifully sculptured face. Muscle sculpted his face till it would remind one of a statue created with care by one of the masters. Blonde hair grew out of Adrian’s head, long and full, going down past his shoulders. The final organ to form on this perfect specimen of manly beauty was his penis. It grew thicker with a bulbous head. His pubic hair grew in blond as well, brushing the ball sack, which held two oranges in there, proving to the world how virile he now was. When the growth finally stopped, Adrian stood before the mirror in utter awe. He had never seen such a beautiful manly form as himself. Every inch was pure perfection. There was not a blemish nor a spot nor a mark on any part of his body. Hair grew in all of the “right” places, and every muscle was in impeccable proportion and symmetry. Perfect was all he could think of when he looked at himself. Adrian’s hands couldn’t stop touching every inch of his body. He looked to Chao’s and smiled. The Centaur looked down at him. - What do you think, my son? - I’m perfect. - Yes. - So beautiful… yet so manly. Adrian shook his hair and laughed as it fell around his shoulders. He looked again at the man in black and saw that he was smiling, but there was something dark in his eyes. Was he attracted to my new form, Adrian wondered? Now that he was larger he might be physically able to take the man’s cock, but did he want to? Not wanting to appear ungrateful for what he was given, Adrian approached the Centaur. - Thank you. Thank you so much! - Thank you… father. - Thank you, father. - Are you satisfied? - Yes!! Totally!! - Really? I’m just not sure I am yet. Maybe your pecs need to be bigger. Adrian’s pecs started to swell larger before his eyes. Rounder and fuller they grew. Pound upon pound was added to his pecs until they threatened to block his view of his lower body. - No. That’s not it. Maybe it’s your body hair I don’t like. Blonde hair began to sprout all over Adrian’s chest, getting fuller and bushier. The hair traveled down his abs, coating them but never covering them. - No! That isn’t it either!! Chaos looked deeply into Adrians eyes and smiled a wicked smile. - I know exactly what it is. The magnificently huge Centaur walked behind Adrian, and placed his hands on his shoulders. Gently… almost too gently… he turned Adrian so that he was once again looking at his reflection. - You looked within, but you wouldn’t look deep enough. You looked and saw only what society told you you should be. Just as you tried to build a body the world would love, you created this mask that is still covering the true you. You still want the world to love you, don’t you Adrian? - Of course. - I will teach you something now I learned long ago… the world will never love people like you and I. They despise us. They always have and they always will… until we force them to love us. Think of all of the people that have hurt you. Your father beat you, belittled you, broke your nose several times, and then abandoned you. Your mother’s affection only harmed you, and when bullies attacked you and made fun of you every day at school, what did anyone do? - Nothing. - Exactly. They allowed it to continue. It seemed they even welcomed it. Chaos continued to speak, evenly and intensely, and the words buried themselves deep within Adrian’s soul… slowly forming a bitter fruit there. - Even when you did something for yourself, lost weight, built a new body, did anyone notice? Did anyone really care? - No. - Did your life change for the better? - No A tear fell from Adrian’s right eye. - No. Even here… the place you love more than anywhere else in the world… does anyone really respect you? Treat you as an equal? They watch as you serve them and clean up their mess, but never really see you. People like Chad Mitchell will never really see you, will they? You asked him out once, didn’t you? - Yes. - When you had gathered the courage, convinced yourself that you were his equal, what did he do? - He told me no. He told me I was too young for him. - He laughed at you. Chaos conjured up the image of Adrian asking Chad out for coffee, and it appeared like a movie on the mirror. Chad thanked Adrian, told him he was flattered, but that Adrian was too young for him, that he should ask out someone his own age. Adrian, dejected walked away. Chad watched after him, and then started laughing. “As if!!!” Chad said to the departing figure. “You think you could touch this?!” Chad flexed his bicep in the mirror and licked it. “Fuckin fatties are always lusting after me. Hate it!” The image of Chad froze on the mirror. Tears fell freely from Adrian’s eyes. - They all laugh, Adrian… until you give them a reason not to. Look at me. No one will ever laugh at me again. I looked deep… deep within and I discovered what I was. Let me help you. Let me show you the way. You aren’t this, Adonis, are you? - I want to be. - Of course you do, but for the world it will never be enough. Let them truly see you, Adrian. Let them hear you. Let them fear you. - Yes… yes… They need to see me. - Exactly. - They all need to pay for what they’ve done. - They will, my son. I promise you. Now, look deep within. Is this really you? - No. - Tell me what you see. - Muscle. I am muscle upon muscle. - Yes. - Muscle creating dominance. - Yes. - Muscle creating supremacy! - Yes! - I’m bigger, more immense then anyone! They scream in terror and awe at the sight of me!! - Yes!! - The whole world fears me, for with one word I can bring upon their destruction. - YES!!!! - That is what I am. I am Destruction. Simply saying the word caused Adrian’s voice to fall several octaves, and caused Chaos’ loins to stir. The power build up once again inside of Chaos and shot out of both of his eyes and into Adrian. Knowing that more was needed, Chaos opened his mouth wide, and a beam of light emanated from it into Adrian as well Adrian screamed as all three rays hit him at once. Within moments, he was growing again. His legs exploded in size, becoming so freakishly muscular that he was forced to spread his legs as wide as they could go just so that he could continue standing… and still they continued to pack on muscle. His feet got larger and thicker, and his toes quadrupled in size in order to hold up the immeasurable mass of his legs. When it seemed that they could no longer balance such columns of muscle, they mutated, his immense big toes shifting down and more toward the middle of his feet, creating what could only be described as a massive hybrid of human and gorilla feet, enabling him more room for control and balance, and of course, growth. Just when he thought he couldn’t spread his legs any further, the pelvic bone of the man once known as Adrian split and dislocated, growing and reforming in order for his legs to gain more and more muscle mass. Enormous veins wove themselves over the surface of his legs trying desperately to feed the colossal quads and calves. The creature once known as Adrian felt only relief and pleasure as he let himself go and evolved into his true form. Gone was the Adonis belt as his abs grew bigger, thicker, heavier, and the grooves between them grew deeper. His stomach appeared to distend creating a powerful roid gut, accentuated by an impossibly jaw dropping 15 pack that grew on it. Adrian rubbed the cobblestones of his stomach wishing them greater and more enormous. Even the sight of his stomach must cause fear. Just thinking it caused more freakish abdominal muscles to grow until he possessed an unheard of 18 pack. The creature screamed out as his rib cage cracked and split, quadrupling in size, giving more room for his massive chest to grow… and grow it did. Pound upon pound of muscle deposited itself on his pecs forcing them to become rounder, fuller, and denser. The creature drooled, happy at no longer being able to see his lower half. Bigger, he thought. Make me mightier!!! Lost in the sensation of every muscle in his body growing out of control, Destruction grinned as he had difficulty lifting the heavy arms that were growing nearly as large and as veiny as his legs. With only lust and muscle in mind, he began to massage his pecs with his ginormous hands. As he massaged his pecs, the creature noticed that something was starting to force them slowly upward toward his chin. Moving his hands down, he discovered what felt like two more nipples emerging from the skin under his pecs. Squeezing them, he discovered that they were indeed two new sensitive nipples. With what sounded like an explosion erupting from his chest, another set of massive pecs burst out and formed under the original. Yes, he thought, pinching and rubbing the massive thumb sized nipples on his new pecs. If two are incredible, four are simply amazing!! The two newly grown pecs grew larger in size till Destruction’s torso was forced to begin stretching and growing upward again to form more room. Taller and taller he rose, growing closer to the high ceilings of the gym. He was thankful that this building had such high ceilings, but even more grateful that his body was creating more space to pack on more muscle. Destruction’s lateral muscles grew more gigantic, compelling his mammoth arms away from his side. When he did try to set his arms down against this side, he was not only prevented by his lat span, but by two large lumps that had formed two feet below his arm pits. Trying his best to look in the mirror as it got further away, he saw the lumps getting larger and larger, pulsating with a power from within. The pressure built up underneath them until they finally erupted like two volcanic pimples, forcing out two new colossal arms. Destruction roared as the two additional arms gained size to match their brothers. They were nearly impossible to control at first, moving as if they had a mind of their own, until he found that through some concentration, he was finally able to manipulate them himself. Still he continued to grow taller and more muscular. Never had Chaos seen such a specimen as this manifestation of all of the anger the man once called Adrian had held down for so long. Dark brown hair erupted all over Destruction’s body, coating his arms, legs, and chest in a thick carpet. The hair on his head turned a dark brown, and a thick beard began to grown on his face becoming fuller by the minute. Standing nearly 13 feet tall, Destruction continued to grow. The world would definitely see him now. The world would quake at his massive feet. As if fuelled further by this new found anger that had been released inside of him, Destruction continued to transform. An angry ripping sound came from Destructions body as foot long razor sharp horns angrily erupted from his elbows and his shoulder blades. Raising all four of his might hands in front of him as best he could, Destruction laughed as one by one he made a tight fist, and ten inch horns began to protrude and curve from each of his upper knuckles. With his two upper arms, he easily dragged the horns of his hands across the ceiling ripping it apart. Material fell around him, but this only caused Destruction to laugh, his voice now so deep that it sounded more like an unearthly grumble. Destruction roared again, his mouth growing larger as he did. Two more rows of sharp pointed teeth forced their way through his gums behind his original teeth, creating a terrifying shark-like mouth. Exuding so much heat from his own transformation, sweat began to pour down Destruction’s brown onto his face and chest. The burning of the salt water started to irritate his eyes, so to the best of his ability, he tried to brush it away, but he found it impossible to even touch his eyes with his bloated muscular arms. The more he tried to wipe the sweat away, the more appeared to fall. Chaos watched as the colossus tried in vain to stop the odd flow of sweat. Soon though, he realized it was not simply sweat, but appeared as if Destruction’s own flesh from his forehead was turning to liquid and pouring down his face and puddling around his eyes. The liquid soon started to solidify, and like clay, began building a wall in front of his eyes. - What’s happening to me??!! Stop this now! - I’m sorry, but it’s all simply out of my control. The flesh continued to flow, building up more and more in front of his eyes until it finally covered them completely. The creature, now blinded, roared and stomped around the room causing devastation all around him. Loosing his balance, the colossus fell to the floor. Chaos watched as the flesh smoothed itself out on his forehead until it looked as if he eyes had never been there at all. - It burns! It burns!! A primal roar came from deep within Destruction as his brow ridge distended further causing an oddly masculine Neanderthal look to overtook Destructions face. The skin below the ridge began to bubble and flex, and with a loud rip, one massive red eye opened in the middle of his forehead. Arching his back, Destruction roared again. Chaos watched with excitement as the four massive nipples ripped open as well creating four more additional red eyes. - Look upon me!! Look at what I am becoming!! Destruction got to his feet with a deep bellowing laugh. Chaos could feel all five eyes on him… staring deep into him. - I will be seen!! I will be feared!!! Would you like to see another trick, father. - Show me. Destruction reached his two bottom hands down and began stroking his immense penis. The more he stroked it with animalistic force, the more it grew. As he jerked it, the shaft grew thicker and thicker, quickly tripling in size. The head continued to grown larger and more bulbous as well, overtaking the shaft with how thick and long it was itself. The most erotic and sensual feeling began to emanate from the massive shaft. Smiling and looking directly into Chaos’ eyes, Destruction stopped what he was doing. Suddenly with one quick flick, he dug the horns of his right hand into the underbelly of his penis. The beast roared out, but the sound appeared more like pleasure then pain. A moment later, Destruction lifted his left, and dug those horns into the top of his penis. Chaos expected blood to start flowing, but all he could see was the flesh of the penis moving and puddling on its own like clay. A thick river of pre began to flow from the bulbous head soaking the floor. Flexing his might biceps, Destruction pulled his arms apart, and with a loud ripping sound, Destruction’s thick cock split in half. The clay-like skin quickly formed around it, and within moments, Destruction possessed two immense penises, both now dripping free flowing pre. - What do you think of your son now? The two penises continued to grow larger, standing at attention. Using two hands to stroke his penises and two hands to massage his basketball sized testicles, Destruction brought himself to the most forceful of orgasms. Cum rocketed from both shafts, covering the floor and shattering the mirror. Asarualimnunna smiled as the wall into the fifth realm cracked and he could easily slip through. Standing now at an immense sixteen feet and weighing thousands upon thousands of pounds of pure muscle, Destruction had finally been born. Angrily he began to tear the building apart, wanting to free himself from his prison. - Calm, my son!! Destruction did as his loving father requested. - There will be plenty of time for you to show yourself to the world. First, we must find another to join our army against the common enemy…Eros. We must build it before he is able to, and if my calculations are correct, only four more will be able to be born. Come with me. I think I know the next perfect candidate.
  12. Ncgazza

    The Test

    Okay...this is my first story in years. Many...many years! But...I promised myself I would start writing again, and this is a story I've been working on over Christmas. I'm not sure if there is a Part Two or not. Let me know what you think...but be kind! Like I said... this is my first story in many years!!! The Test Chad hopped out of his jeep and ran up the twelve steps to Jacobs building. The lab was on the fourth floor, and no sooner had he entered the main doors, he was running up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Seconds later, he was bursting through the door. ⁃ Where were you? This is the third time this week you stood me up. ⁃ I left you a message on your phone. I said I was too busy with work to go. ⁃ Too busy to keep the gains you’ve worked on for the past 8 months? It was leg day...and we both know you can’t afford to miss leg day! Chad looked down at his friend and grinned broadly. They had been working out together for nearly a year now, ever since Jacob had joined the gym where Chad was a personal trainer. The relationship had been strained at first. Jacob was naturally shy and insecure in the gym, but once they discovered a common trait: their love for hot men, their friendship flourished. Since then, they worked out together, hung out together, cried a couple of times on each other’s shoulders, and passed from simple gym pals to best friends. Oddly enough, there was never any sexual chemistry between the two, and Chad felt it was best this way. He didn’t have the best track record with men, breaking several hearts in the time he knew Jacob, and sleeping with many many more. He didn’t even think Jacob knew what a complete man-whore he actually was. He never told his friend about his countless sexual escapades, not because he feared Jacob would think less of him, but more because he never really acknowledged what he was...a man who loved sex very, very, very, VERY, much!! Jacob looked up at his friend wearing the craziest pair of glasses/magnifying apparatus Chad had ever seen. ⁃ I’m really in the middle of something. ⁃ I can see that. What is that thing, an emerald? Jacob looked down at the large stone he was holding in his hand, exhaled a sizeable sigh of frustration, and took the optivisor off his head. ⁃ No. It’s not an emerald. We have no clue what it really is. It wasn’t even green this morning? ⁃ What? Really? Chad sat his large frame in the chair nearest his friend. ⁃ How’s it changing colours? ⁃ I have no idea. So far since it was excavated three weeks ago, it’s been orange, red, purple, yellow, and pink. No rhyme or reason for the colour change. It just happens. Usually over night. ⁃ Where was it found? ⁃ A few miles outside Athens. Some colleges of mine are on a dig, excavating what appears to be an ancient agoge. ⁃ A what? ⁃ An agoge...a vigorous training academy for the military. ⁃ Was the stone captured in a raid? ⁃ There was nothing with it except this piece of parchment. Since I’m a gemologist, they sent it over to me to examine. They had to sneek it out of the country by Fed Ex, shoved and sealed in a can of coffee grinds. ⁃ Why? ⁃ They have some idea what it might be after taking a look at this parchment that they found near it. But since they can’t leave the dig for another four weeks without arousing suspicion, they sent it to me to keep safe. ⁃ Trusting friends. ⁃ It’s actually my ex, Elliott. He knew I wouldn’t say no, and I like a good puzzle. ⁃ What do they think it is? Jacob reached over and pressed the space bar of his laptop. The screen came to life, and with a few clicks of his mouth, found the document he was searching for. ⁃ Here’s a copy of the parchment. From what I can translate...this figure is some sort of cosmic king. ⁃ Zeus? ⁃ No. It almost appears as if he’s beyond even Zeus. ⁃ An alien? ⁃ Maybe. I don’t know. Whatever it is, he’s asking this warrior a riddle. When the warrior gets the riddle right, a beam of light shoots from the gem into the warrior, transforming him into what looks like a magnified version of himself....the perfect soldier. ⁃ Damn. ⁃ Yeah. ⁃ I guess you need the alien king to make it work. ⁃ Maybe. I’ve tried sending light through it. Here...look... Jacob got up from his desk and moved to the center of the room where an apparatus was placed. ⁃ I’ve put the gem stone here, and sent light through it from here into several rats and mice, but nothing. No change. Nothing. I’ve tried every wave length you can think of, several different power sources, and even natural sun and moonlight, but nothing. I’m at a loss. I tried the light from a laser this afternoon, but the rat just sat there happy as could be. It must need a mediator of some kind to make it work, but I’m not sure what. So...you can see why I’ve missed the gym the past couple of days. ⁃ Yeah. Why work out when you can build your own warrior rats here. Chad got up and moved to near where Jacob was standing. ⁃ Why didn’t I go to college instead of joining the Marines? I could be working on interesting shit like this instead of waiting for lazy PhD no-shows. ⁃ I said I was sorry, ⁃ Did you? ⁃ I think I did...and besides I’m doing this on the sly. My boss has been driving me crazy, having me put together a presentation for him that he has to present at a conference. What time is it? I have to bring it to him at his house by six. Jacob and Chad both looked at the clock across the room. ⁃ Good. Only 3:40. ⁃ Buddy, that clocks wrong. After you, I had Mrs. Walsh, and I got done with her at 6. It had to be at least 6:30 by now. ⁃ What? It can’t be! Chad looked down at his watch and showed it to Jacob. ⁃ 6:45 actually. ⁃ No! No...no...no! Fuck!! It can’t be!! Fuck!!! Jacob ran over and grabbed a Zip drive from his desk. ⁃ He’s going to kill me. I’ll never make it over there in time. I only have my bike with me... Fuck!!! ⁃ Take my Jeep. ⁃ What? ⁃ Here take my Jeep . How far away does he live? ⁃ About 20 minutes by bike... ⁃ So you’ll get there in no time with my Jeep. I’ll stay here and when you get back we can go for a drink. ⁃ Oh my God. Thank you so much. ⁃ No problem. I have a spot right outside. Just calm down and be careful. ⁃ I will. I promise. I’ll be right back, Grabbing Chad’s keys, Jacob tore out the door leaving Chad alone in the now empty lab. He could never be holed up in a room like this, examining stones and rats. He was too much of a physical person. He needed to be out and about either working out, or jogging, or any other of his physical hobbies. He never had any interest in scholarly pursuits. To him the stone was just a stone...even if it did apparently change colours and come with a pretty cool backstory. Chad picked up the stone and looked at the computer screen one more time. ⁃ So...the light goes through the stone and into the rat... *********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************** Jacob parked the Jeep, turned it off, and got out slower then he wanted to. After that ordeal at Professor Lease’s house, he was both physically and mentally exhausted. He had to simply stand there as the older man berated him over punctuality, responsibility, and the qualities it took to be an adjunct professor in his department. Jacob has nearly cried as Lease went on and on and on. He would have continued even longer if his Uber hadn’t arrived to take him to the airport. The final insult to injury cane as Professor Lease passed Chad’s Jeep and said: ⁃ This is yours? ⁃ No. I borrowed it from a friend. ⁃ I didn’t think someone like you would drive something like this. Shape-up, Mr. Harrow. With that, he slammed the door to the Uber, and was whisked away. Jacob waved to the car as it quickly faded into the distance wishing he had the balls to give him the finger instead of this ridiculous display of false affection. Now as he opened the glass door to the building that housed his office/lab, he decided that he would take the lift up to the fourth floor instead of climbing each of the stairs. Nearly thinking about the climb in his current mood filled him with dread. It was while thinking these thoughts that he suddenly realized the foyer to his building was in complete darkness. Moving to the wall that held the light switch, he blindly felt his hand around until he found it. Click. Click. Nothing. There must be an outage somewhere, he thought, and gazing outside, realized it was only his and a couple of other buildings in the area that were bathed in complete darkness. Carefully taking each step that laid ahead of him, Jacob began the journey to the fourth floor. Chad must be sitting upstairs in the dark since he wasn’t outside to greet him, Jacob thought as he reached the second floor. Jacob smiles as he thought of his friend doing push-ups or sit-ups to keep himself busy as he waited in the dark. He wished he had his friends energy and drive when it came to fitness...but it wasn’t anything that ever really interested him. He never would have even joined the gym if it hadn’t been for the offer to have 300.00 pounds taken off of his private insurance with proof that he was living a healthy life. He would have quit a week after joining if it hadn’t been for being paired up with Chad for an offer of four free sessions with a personal trainer. Chad’s sexiness kept him returning for the four sessions, and just the thought of being able to hang out with someone like him had Jacob signing up for three sessions a week. Now that they were friends Chad told him he would train him for free, but Jacob refused. He knew that his friend needed the money, so He made up the excuse of not getting Chad in trouble with his Boss at the gym for continuing the payments. It wasn’t a lot, but Jacob was glad to be able to help his friend out. As he climbed the final flight of stairs that would take him to his office, Jacob saw flashes of light as well as what sounded like sexual moans coming from under his door. As he got closer, Jacob could hear his friend clearly as Chad let out a loud ⁃ FUCK!!! Jacob laughed quietly. Chad must have gotten bored waiting for him in the dark and decided to rub one out while watching porn on his phone, which would account for the flashing light. He thought he would wait outside until Chad finished up when he heard Chad calling out to him, moaning as he spoke: ⁃ Jacob! Fuck!! Come in! ⁃ I think you’re doing just fine on your own. You don’t need me. ⁃ Get in here!! Man!! I have a surprise for you! Fuck yeah!! Slight embarrassed thinking about what he was about to see, Jacob opened the door. What he actually saw far exceeded his imagination of what Chad has been up to. The laser was powered on, and the beam was first going through a magnifying glass that had somehow been rigged onto the apparatus, then through the stone which was rapidly changing every colour known to man. The beam continued through the stone, emerging as a multi coloured arrow of light hitting Chad squarely in the chest. Chad was shirtless, and the sweat that was pouring down his chest was highlighted in the every changing array of colours. ⁃ You made it just in time. ⁃ What the fuck are you doing, mate!! You’re crazy. Jacob ran over to the switch that powered the beam with every intention of turning it off. ⁃ Don’t!! As Jacobs hand reached for the switch, an arch of electronic energy erupted from the panel, shocking him into submission. ⁃ He won’t let you stop it. Not now. Chad’s moaning continued, and his breathing became more rapid. Jacob could see he was aroused from the obvious tenting of his shorts. ⁃ If you felt like I did, you’d never want this to stop either. I feel like I’m having thousands of orgasms all at the same time, and they keep getting more and more powerful... I can hardly stand it. ⁃ Who’s this ‘he’ that you mentioned? ⁃ I don’t know. He’s just a voice I can hear in my head. He told me how to wire up your laser and draw all of the power from the building. He said you were so close... you just needed a push. ⁃ You shouldn’t have tested it on yourself. We have no clue what it will do to you. ⁃ I still don’t. All I know is as each second passes, it’s filling me up more and more with power. Jacob leaned against the desk and watched his friend experiencing what seemed like pain and ecstasy at the same time. ⁃ I just wanted to help. I got the idea for the magnifying glass from what you said about it transforming the soldier into a magnified version of himself. Maybe the light just needed to be magnified. So, I rigged that magnifying glass there, set the rat on the table, and turned it on. Nothing. I then thought...maybe you didn’t need a rat...maybe you needed a guinnea pig. A human one. So I moved the rat and put myself there. At first Nothing happened, and then I heard a whisper in the back of my head, almost like a thought to take my shirt off...so I did. Once it was hitting my flesh, I could hear the whispering better. He told me you were being too careful...the rat would never work because it had no real cognizant thoughts. Then he said the power was too low. He had me turn it up and then step into the beam. The voice was getting louder...and he said that it still wasn’t strong enough, so he told me how to rewire the entire console, draining energy from this building and three more that surrounded it. He also had me put that failsafe around the switch because he knew if you came back you would be worried and shut it…Awww! Fuck…Jacob!!! Nearly there!!! I’m nearly entirely filled up. Jacob!!! I’m so filled with power I feel like I’m going to explode! I can’t even explain how this feels. ⁃ What’s going to happen next? What happens when you get entirely filled up. ⁃ I don’t know! All I know is… Chad stopped talked and appeared to be listening to someone speak. - You were wrong, Jacob. It’s not a riddle. It’s a test. - A test? What do you mean? - He wants to know what I really am. Deep down…what do I really believe I am? - You’re a human…like me… - He knows that! Deep down…what am I? - Chad…please…stop this now…while you can. - I can’t, Jacob. Not now…and I don’t think I want to. What am I deep down? We both know…don’t we? We both know what I am. Jacob realized Chad was no longer speaking to him, but to the voice only he could hear. - Exactly. I’m a sexual animal. That’s what I am. I’ve always known that. We both know that. Silence again for a few moments…and then Chad started speaking again. - What do I wish to become? What will I be? A sexual beast…a sexual conqueror… a sexual warrior? Jacob leaned forward as he saw Chad smile and then laugh. - Exactly. Why stop there. You’re right. That is exactly what I need to be. A God. A sexual God. Suddenly the room went silent. The beam from the laser shut off, and the only thing that eliminated the room was a glow from the stone…now completely clear. - It’s happening, Jacob. I can feel it. I’m changing! Oh, Fuck! My cock! Look at my cock! Jacob watched as the bulge in his shorts started to get bigger and bigger, looking as if someone was inflating a large balloon with air. Chad threw his head back and started moaning loudly again. - I can feel my whole body changing, Jake. What am I becoming? Jacob watched as Chad’s bulge proceeded to get bigger and bigger until he finally heard his underwear rip, and his cock flopped out the leg hole of his shorts. Fuck, Jacob thought, his cock is nearly down to his knee and it’s still growing. The shaft continued to grow longer and thicker, the head growing larger and meatier. - Fuck yeah, Jake! Fuckin take a look at me!!! Jacob couldn’t help looking at Chad as his penis continued to stretch and swell. Within a few minutes the massive shaft was nearing the floor. It was thicker than Chad’s own muscular arms, and just as veiny. The head was nearly as thick as two of Jacob’s fist together, and had a gaping hole he easily could have stuck several fingers into. - I’m getting so horny, Jake. I don’t think I’ve ever been this horny. Chad’s cock began to get thicker and longer as it got harder, defying gravity and rising up off of the floor. Soon there was a war between Chad’s penis and his shorts, and to no ones surprise, the penis won, first tearing the leg of his shorts, and then quickly destroying the rest of the material. Chad stood there naked, his eyes wild and filled with lust, his hands moving toward the shaft of his newly grown penis. Even with his long arms he couldn’t touch the head of it, and both hands were not enough to encircle the girth. Chad looked at Jacob and grinned. - Can’t wait to fuck with this thing!! - I’m not sure anyone will be able to take you with it. - Oh yeah? Take a look! As if Chad was willing it of his own accord, a river of pre began to flow from the hole at the end of his massive cock. It was like someone had turned a faucet on and walked away from the tap. Jacob looked at Chad, and watched him close his eyes. - Take another look. Jacob looked back down at Chad’s cock, and watched as pre suddenly began to flow from tiny pores all over his cock. Soon, the entire shaft was slick and dripping with pre. - Apparently I’m self lubricating now. Chad’s hearty laugh suddenly deepened three octaves as his hands cuped the testicles that sat in his sack. They were quickly enlarging to match his penis. Chad felt around his sack, cupping the two orange sized balls with a smirk that suddenly turned into a grimace of pain. Jacob looked down to where Chad’s hands had quickly gone to, and discovered there appeared to be a third testicle emerging. - What the fuck’s happening to me? Chad’s voice was so low now it was more like a grumble. Jacob could see a fourth testicle suddenly form in his ball sack, and begin to swell. Chad’s sack grew larger as the four testicles grew to the size of extremely large grapefruits. This sudden rush of god like testosterone hit Chad all at once, and hair began to sprout all over his body. Jet black hair began to take root around his lips and on his chin forming the manliest of beards. His bare chest was next as hair began to thickly coat his pecs. Like water flowing down a mountain, his abs, then crotch, and finally legs were covered in silky black hair. Chad’s hands felt his face and chest, marveling at the sudden carpet of hair that had grown there. Soon after, his muscular arms began to be covered as well, leading to his arm pit which grew a dense outcrop of hair. - What do you think, Jake? I always wanted to be a little hairier. The exploration of his new hairy body was cut short by a sudden jolt of pain. Jacob moved toward Chad, but his arm flew out and stopped him. - It’s okay, buddy. Don’t worry. I think I’m growing. Jacob watched on with concern as Chad’s body began to jerk and then convulse wildly. He feared Chad was having some sort of a seizure, but realized it was simply every muscle in his body pulsing with new found power. Jacob surveyed Chad’s chest where it seemed to be hitting with the most force. His already muscular pecs were pumping larger and larger as if it was ten years of solid chest workouts in one minute. - Look at these chesticles! I can barely see over them! Chad had barely uttered these words when his pecs flourished even larger blocking any view he would have of his lower body. Chad looked preposterous with these now 100 pound each pecs plastered to his body, but that appearance was to be short lived. Chad’s neck began to grow outward, thickening like a redwood. His shoulders erupted upward, becoming grander and more rounded. Jacob heard the cracking of bones and noticed both of Chad’s arms were lengthening as his biceps and triceps expanded and enlarged. Soon Chad’s hands scraped the floor, as his forearms thickened to the size of Jacob’s own thigh. Each finger lengthened and expanded, and the palm of his hand became as large as a manhole cover. Chad lifted his hands off of the ground and examined them. - I think I might have some trouble finding gloves to fit these mits! Chad flexed both of his long arms with a grin. His bi’s and tri’s erupted in size, becoming larger than Jacob’s head and still continued to swell. Chad dropped his arms, his huge hands slapping the floor. They didn’t rest on the floor for long as Chad’s lats began to expand like the rest of him. His back was growing wider and wider, and soon his arms didn’t rest against his side anymore, but were forced away from him. A rumble of laughter erupted from Chad. His cock had started leaking pre again, and his hands had begun to stroke the mighty shaft. Even with his massive hands, Chad still couldn’t complete grip his cock, and needed to use both to completely encircle it. One hand left his cock and moved to his pecs where he began to play with his nipples. Along with his chest, each nipple had grown and now were the length and thickness of Jacob’s own thumbs. His pecs had gotten so large that the nipples were forced downward, and the cleft between them could completely hide Jacobs foot. From his pecs, Chad’s hands went down to his abs which were beginning to grow along with the rest of them. Chad had an incredible 6 pack before, but now each abdominal muscle swelled to resemble thick body armor. The hair that had grown on his chest did nothing to hide the incredible wall of muscle that was emerging on his stomach. The sound of bones breaking and reassembling themselves began again, and Jacob watched as Chad’s legs began to grow longer. Where the man had once been at least 6 feet tall, his height skyrocketed to seven feet and then closer to eight. In moments, Chad’s head had hit the ceiling, bringing plaster down onto his body. Not to be left out, Chad’s feet ripped from his sneakers, and soon began to cover three of the 12 inch floor tiles, and then proceeded to eclipse a fourth. Chad screamed out in pain and reached for his ball sack. - Fuck!!! I’m growing another set again! The growth of the third set of testicles brought a further wave of testosterone through Chad, causing his body hair to become even denser, and swelling his quads and calves until his legs were thicker than redwood trees. Chad had to adjust his stance several times as his thighs grew more and more massive. A further cry of pain brought his hands back to his balls. - What now??!! To Jacob’s eyes, it appeared like the six large balls were moving around on their own inside Chad’s ball sack. - They’re merging! Jacob watched in awe as the six large testicles merged into two of the largest balls he had ever seen. They didn’t appear out of place on Chad’s massive body, but next to a mere human, they would be as large as ostrich eggs. Chad’s massive hands flew suddenly to his head as he cried out again. Slowly, Chad’s head and face were expanding, getting large to fit in proportion to his body. His mandible cracked as his jawline squared off, somewhat hidden by Chad’s new beard, but still obvious. - This is it pal! This is it!! Every part of Chad’s body grew even larger than it had been before, gaining hundred more pounds in muscle and size in minutes. With his bearlike paws, Chad grabbed his cock and began to frantically jerk it off. The second round of growth continued faster as Chad fell to his knees as to not go through the ceiling. Even on his knees, Chad was taller than Jacob. Pre was flying everywhere as Chad proceeded to masturbate with fervor. He’s going to explode, Jacob though, watching his friend getting far larger than anything he could imagine. Suddenly, Chad stopped all action. Jacob wondered what was next, and realized Chad’s focus was now on his cock. Longer and thicker it swelled, finger sized veins criss-crossing the length of it. The head swelled even larger still, and with the power of his giant testicles, Chad began to ejaculate. Cum erupted from Chad’s penis, hitting every object in the room, including Jacob. Shot after shot were fired, until it seemed there was no end in sight. Chad grabbed hold of his cock again with one hand trying to control where it was firing, but only succeeding in exciting himself more. Sweat ran down Chad’s face as an eroma of male musk emerged from his body. Jacob came in his trousers simply from seeing and smelling his friend. Chad lifted his arm and smelled his own armpit. Smiling at Jacob, he proceeded to squeeze his massive right nipple, and let out the lowest moan of ecstacy Jacob had ever heard. Seven more shots of cum erupted from Chad’s penis, and then there was silence; cum dripping quietly from the massive hole. - It’s done, Jake. - You’re massive. - How big do you think I am? - I don’t know. Probably close to 9 feet tall and thousands of pounds. Your damn head is as big as my chest… both heads… and even after cumming for nearly 10 minutes your cock is still hard. - I’m still horny. I don’t think I’ll ever not be horny again. Jacob laughed. - I can’t wait till the world gets a look at you. - What do you think of me? - You’re incredible. So far beyond human. - I ceased being human about twenty minutes ago. He gave me a choice for my shape…and for a moment I thought of becoming a two-hundred foot dragon. What do you think? Chad closed his eyes, and through only his will, two large amphibious wings ripped from his back. They were as wide and masculine as he was. Chad breathed, and fire erupted from his mouth. His eyes became those of a snake, and a moment later, fire erupted from the head of Chad’s penis, proving to Jacob that he was indeed more God than man. - You’re magnificent now, but I’m more at ease with how you were before… - I could destroy you with a mere thought if I wanted to…reduce you to dust with a single wish. Jacob knew every word Chad was saying was true. But, when Chad smiled down at him, he knew he had nothing to worry about. Chad’s wings folded into his back again, and his eyes reverted to their customary look. - He wants to know when you’ll join us. He wants you to take your place among the God’s. - He still talks to you? - No. He’s silent. He’s waiting for you. - I don’t know… this might all be too much for me. I don’t know what kind of God I’d be. - Deep down you know what you are… just like I knew what I am. Jacob did know what he was, but he was afraid to admit it. Afraid of what he would become. - But first… I need to thank you. Chad blew, and every stitch of Jacobs clothes disappeared. Chad grinned, and opened his mouth, revealing his tongue. As Jacob watched, his tongue lengthened and proceeded to move snakelike down his body until it wrapped itself around Jacob’s cock and balls. Before he knew it, Chad’s tongue was slowly jerking him off. The tip of his tongue licked his cock head, and teased the opening. Just when he thought he couldn’t take amymore, Chad effortlessly lifted him off of the floor until they were eye to eye. Chad grinned a wicked grin, and his tongue proceeded to lengthen again, making its way toward Jacob’s asshole. Within moments, he was being both jerked off and rimmed by the God that held him. Chad’s tongue entered Jacobs hold, sending shockwaves through him. What will I become…Jacob wondered as his friends huge tongue proceeded to enter him further and further, thickening as it went, and proceeded to start fucking him. What will I become? He knew it was far from human… even further than his friend had come, and that scared and excited him.
  13. Thanks again for all the great feedback everyone! Once again this was mostly written on my phone, so please excuse the errors. Hope you enjoy the next installment. - PART 1 - PART 2 ************************* DWARFED BY DAD PART 3/4 “Oh-NO… Dad, not my NEW pants!” I barely even made it through the front door of his house, suddenly overshadowed by his colossal bodybuilding figure, hearing the all too familiar sound of his gigantic arm muscles beginning to work and move, simply flex, the tortuous ear filling commanding power, the old man's twenty-nine inch bicep, raising towards my face. His horrendous forest of silver armpit hair exploded against my nose, smothering me in his rank grandpa-aged musk, causing my dick to bloat, bone up humiliatingly. Then I felt the warm marbled layering of muscle striations build against my whimpering lips, this entire mountain of inhuman strength stack, so high, the peak reached the outstretch of his hand, erupted dangerously into his own face. It was as if someone had stuffed this enormous jack o'lantern under his skin, the biggest arm muscle the world would ever see. Within a few seconds, a few simple pumps of this gigantic daddy spectacle, I started shooting streams of jizz, pathetically, right into my own pants. “HAHA!” Dad voice thundered above me. “Measured them at THIRTY-inches this morning!” He pumped his arm once more, once again suffocating me in his arm muscles, the now thirty-inch monster of old man power. My brand new khaki pants were literally destroyed, soaked, sopping wet with the humiliating incestuous juice of my own boy-sized dick, right through the front of my zipper. I cringed embarrassingly. You think I would have been used this by now. After all, this was now at least a twice-daily occurrence, the rules and regulations of being a slave to a growing muscle-god. “Should I get my mask on, sir?” I still timidly asked “Nope!” Dad grinned looking down at me, barely visible through the outstretch of his own titanic male pecs. “I got something SPECIAL planned for you today…” Now usually the old man would make me wear this demeaning monkey-mask, an old costume from childhood, ever since that first day in the shower, a mere two weeks ago. He never wanted to participate in anything “queer”, the whole “ignorance is bliss” thing, even though he was letting another man, his own son for that matter, worship his gigantic naked physique, most of the time until he would shoot, shower me with his creamy thick gallon-sized load. But today, just as he said, he had something “special”, a new level of mockery that I was inevitably going hopelessly eat up. As he placed his hands around his waistband, as the floor and walls began quaking with every monstrous step, as he slowly turned around, bulging out of these sweaty skin tight gym-shorts, I knew, what was grossly in store for me. “W-Wait, d-dad, p-please…” “I always did enjoy the feeling of women's TONGUE up my ass.” Dad snickered. “And now you're going to CLEAN me with yours!” The old man menacingly laughed, beginning the long and lengthy process to pull off his own shorts, wiggle and squeeze down the swampy grey fabric, so much musk wafting his obscene child-gobbling asscrack, I honestly thought I was going to pass out, let alone even make it to the licking part. I held my nose together as the elasticity in his waistband began to crackle and pop, watching his tire-sized hairy muscle-glutes heave outward towards me, blimp almost dangerously large, breaking any known barrier of bubblebutt size. “I can't imagine how BAD I smell…” Dad continued his bantering. “After a SIX-hour workout, I must be RIPE!” The old man laughably struggled, barely able to pull his own shorts down even halfway his ass. There wasn't so much the problem of his swampy bubbled butthole, or his equally growing large male appendage in the front, but more so with his insanely monstrous and inhuman massive forty-two inch bloated hairy daddy-thighs, eighty-four inches in diameter combined! Even a pair of XXL shorts found complete struggle, fabric fraying and stretching to unbelievable transparency. I honestly didn't think they were going to make it... *RIIIIPPPPPPP* “Fucking UNREAL!” Dad roared proudly, as his shorts ripped and blew apart to the floor. “Won't be long before I'm squatting entire NAVY-ships!!!” He grunted jokingly, taking and rubbing one of his colossal hands along the lining of his gigantic hairy stink-hole, the seemingly endlessly muscle canyon of his asscrack. That was just a taste of how the old man had been talking lately, by the way, his insatiably unrealistic dreams of growing, leaving me always speechless, stammering in dumbfounded fear. Last week he actually tried lifting his Honda right in the driveway, right in front of all the onlooking neighbors, the jaw-dropped kids in the street. He grabbed it by the tail end and growled furiously, his muscles surging bigger than ever, as they always did, but thankfully, the car didn't budge. I know a vehicle is nowhere near being some ship on the sea, but I don't know, just the fact that he was even trying, still endlessly growing, gave me worry that these ridiculous dreams of his, would soon become my nightmare of a reality. “WELL?” Dad boomed questionably. “You going to get CLEANING or what!?” “...yes sir.” I responded with a gulp, but what choice did have? That's not to say, I wasn't completely drooling over the once in a lifetime opportunity, monkey-mask free, to get my actual face up against those two mighty and stage-crushing monster muscle glutes. It was still just so humiliating to me, especially with the way dad would treat me, about the “comical” rate he outgrew me, how he was excited to “double me”, he would often remark. I guess he was getting close, weighing in at a shocking 383-pounds of bone crushing grandpa-aged silver hairy man muscle. But you know, it was just three weeks ago I was some proud bodybuilder, and now... “FUCK-yeah!” Dad deeply groaned. “Get your tongue WAY up there…” He grabbed the back of my hair, smothering my face into all his sweat and left over shit before forcibly squeezing my head, an insignificant grape between his buttcheeks, further up into dark depths of his swampy asscrack. Who knew the old man would like this much assplay, or that I ever would ever turn out to be such a fag for muscle freaks. I'll admit though, there was something kind of comforting about digging and licking my way up his suffocating muscle hole, that familiar fatherly musk I had known since birth. The whole scene ended with the old man groaning like a pig and bent over, his foot long horse cock draped on the floor like a Python, splooging a river of cum, out of this totally tongue-sized piss hole. Then he made me lick up the whole thing up. “Now I really do feel like a KING…” Dad remarked, relishing on the whole humiliating view in the reflection of the living room mirror, as he relentlessly posed. Those words were the beginning of the end, destiny veering it's ugly head. A few days later, the old man demanded I moved in with him, needing his “slave” to be around whenever he commanded. He still fucked woman regularly, daily almost, “pussy splitting” them with his grotesquely veiny old man cock. I still didn't get how he was doing it, how he was growing all over, like some testosterone dripping teenager during a growth spurt. His height had reached a daunting six-foot-four, his feet to a shoe-popping size sixteen, clothing dimensions you wouldn't believe. “Hand me another one, SQUIRT!” Dad boomed above me. “Y-You want M-MORE?” I stammered in disbelief. It was about a week later at the grocery store, aisle seven, the frozen meat department. Dad had finally surpassed his eagerly awaited 400-pound mark, 423-pounds to be precise, so much muscle bulging into muscle, it wasn’t just freaky, it was downright terrifying. Yet he still wanted more, guzzling back four protein shakes already as we wandered up and down the aisles, a man dying of thirst, only it was his muscles, and you wouldn’t believe how much they needed to feed. His brand new XXL-sized clothes looked on the verge of bursting, especially around his grotesquely bloated muscle-gut, the nearly painted on and tortured light blue denim, splitting obscenely around the seams of his legs and groin. I reached down into the shopping cart regardless, never wanting to disobey my master, handing him another bottle of Muscle Milk, only two left now out of the original six-pack. The old man swiped it fiercely from my hands, blowing off the cap with a single thumb, raising the spout to his lips. “God-DAMN, feels like my shirt is gonna BURST!” Dad winked looking down at me, another devilish grin on his face. “OH-Well!” He was so unapologetic, so arrogant in his actions. He didn’t even stop to think about the mounding spectacle of people forming, women and men alike, staring at the over 400-pound muscle god with three full shopping carts. There was this pregnant wife with two children, some little cheerleader with all her friends, even another father with his son after baseball practice, then came the smartphones. With all that protein building up, filling him with a nearly boundless amount of fuel, I knew, it was only a matter of time before there would be another incident, another explosion of muscle growth, just like that day at the gym, captured on the endless amount of cameras surrounding us. “MMPF, SO-good!” Dad grunted under his gulping breaths. “D-Dad, y-your clothes…” I cringed, whimpering devastatingly, as his nearly transparent shirt, the already painted on and skintight ripplings of his freaky muscle striations, began ballooning even bigger. You could already hear the whispers and squeals of the crowd, the baseball boy roar in amazement, as if he had just seen the Hulk, a real life superhero. The various artificial sounds of camera shutters echoed throughout the store, just as I could hear the first small tear, somewhere underneath his armpits, then a second around the underside his two overshadowing inflated blimps of hairy mammoth pecs. *SNAP, POP* “SORRY folks!” Dad chuckled carelessly with a belch. “I was just SO hungry!” *BURRPPPP* *RIIPPPPPPPPPP* As he let out another thunderous belch, before I could even blink, nearly every thread in his shirt suddenly unraveled across the insane rumbling muscle dimensions of his chest into a million tiny pieces, blowing around his beachball-sized arms, detonating around his barn door wide lats, absoluting exploding around his gorilla-sized neck. The crowd variously gasped as every inch of his shirt helplessly fell to the floor, revealing to all them, even the now drooling store employees, the worlds most disgustingly powerful, the most musclebound hairy old man chest, the biggest daddy to walk the planet! “OOPS...” Dad smirked, hearing the various pathetic remarks, the words of disbelief and terror. He started posing anyway, with that wild grin on his face, flexing nearly every muscle he could, starting with his arms first, his burly and gigantic thirty-three inch beasts, nearly crushing his own skull as the two mountainous peaks collided with his stubbled silver face. Then he pleasurably began to bounce and quake his gigantic chest, the blimping hairy chest cleavage, the two overshadowing airships of power, feeling as if the aisle was actually beginning to shake. A few of the women's awes turned into sweet tiny moans, as they publically grabbed grabbed their sopping wet groins, finger-damming there uncontrollable gushing pussys. Even some of the men began bulging in there pants, throbbing pervertedly, continuously adjusting themselves. “JUST started working out a few MONTHS ago!” Dad arrogantly stated, the big crowd pleaser, making everyone chuckle, as if it was a joke. He looked down at me right afterwards with that smirk again, like they had no idea what was to come, as he powerfully turned his stance and showed off his absolutely door-crushing backside. You could tell that he was aching for more, more muscle, occasionally glancing down at the two remaining bottles of Muscle Milk with his piercing blue eyes. I thought he was going to do it, but then, out of nowhere, embarrassingly enough, the old man let out this gigantic grandpa fart. *RIIIPPPPPPPP* “OH-fuck!” Dad devilishly laughed, turning his neck and attempting to look down towards his ass. “Was that my PANTS!?” The crowd gasped once more, I couldn't believe it, covering my mouth and staring like everyone else. His two bulbous and obscene muscle glutes, the pornographic airbag sized butt cheeks, just from a simple fart, had rumbled and quaked to such a severity, that the light blue denim fabric had actually torn apart, right down the shockingly deep muscle valley of his asscrack. Luckily, for the all children's sake, the now dozens of families watching, his swampy grey briefs were still strongly held together. But you could still hear the sound of fabric crackling, slowly snapping apart, as if the old man wasn't done growing yet, as if this whole show was just beginning. “He’s G-GROWING!!!” This woman suddenly shrieked. “You FOLKS want to see some REAL MUSCLE!?” Dad roared, the old man was fucking eating it up. I don't know if he was growing on purpose, or if he just couldn't stop, but he did forcefully and ultimately playfully pump and flex his legs, blowing the remaining seams around his tremendous muscle thighs and groin in an instant. Still mostly held together, however, the now tattered and tortured blue jeans, he let out this deep sinister laugh as the growth took place, as the skin of silver monster muscle legs began effortlessly squeezing through the gaping holes of the fabric, torrentially swelling bigger. It was shocking to say, that his nearly basketball-sized calves were the first to completely blow through the bottom of his pants. *RIIIPPPPPPP* “I make ARNOLD look like an ANT!” The old man mocked, towering above us looking six-foot-seven, posing like the champion he was, the total reigning supreme bodybuilding god of the world. After his calves, his shoes completely blew apart, tearing around the front first from these gigantic hairy toes, then around the laces due to his widening feet, brand new Nike’s, completely destroyed. The crowd continued to gasp, most family's ran. It was just in time as his over fifty-inch muscle thighs blasted through the rest of his denim, the teeth of his pant-zipper erupted with this firehose-bulge of musky underwear fabric. The whole thing ended with those planetary muscle-glutes, those two car-crushing swampy butt cheeks, snapping what was left of the destroyed fabric clinging to his legs. “Better SHIELD your EYES!!!” That was dad’s favorite part, as he boomed the words with laughter, as he shattered the aisle with a most muscular pose. We watched the video what must have been a dozen times, one of many recordings posted online, along with hundreds of shocking photos, the old man's new ego-exploding treasure trove. He couldn't even operate the computer his hands were so big, crushing his desktop keyboard at first, making us revert to my tiny eleven-inch laptop. “They're calling me a GOD!” Dad chuckled delightfully, slowly standing up from his broken chair. “I think it's time you WORSHIP your GOD…” I'll just let you know, that he was completely naked, and he was pointing to his size-twenty feet. It felt just like that first time in the shower. I didn't even ask if I should wear my monkey-mask. My tongue started slowly with those gigantic-toes, kissing and working my way up to those cock-boning disgustingly freaky bowling-ball calves, then I made my way up his gigantic monstrous silver thighs. It was absolutely terrifying, being next to these legs nearly triple the size of my own body. But I kept on worshiping, despite his questionable movements, the occasional thump from a single tiny motion, shaking the entire house, nearly snuffing me out. It was then I looked up, terrified, just knowing what was going to happen next. “GOD-damn, just look at those pretty little LIPS!” Dad suddenly grabbed me by the cheeks, stuffing his gigantic thumb down my throat. “I think it's time you SUCK your DADDY’S cock!” I always knew I was a little gay... **************************** Comments are appreciated
  14. Hey guys, thanks for the awesome feedback on the first chapter. Here's the second, once again, it was written on my phone, so please excuse the errors. Enjoy! READ PART 1 HERE DWARFED BY DAD PART 2/4 When he grabbed the same weights as me, the same 80-pound dumbbells off the rack, I knew, just like the old man said over breakfast, that he was going to totally outgrow me. But it wasn't going to happen in a week, or even a few days, it was going to happen in a matter of hours. Almost as if he was literally growing bigger by the minute, the second, a growth experiment gone wrong, only it was my father, and there was seemingly no end to his new found muscle lust... “You know what?” Dad suddenly chuckled under his breath. “I think these weights are to LIGHT!” My jaw dropped to the floor, watching him move his way up the rack, right to the bodybuilding coveted 100-dumbbells. As he picked each one up, his sleeveless and huge chiseled grandpa-looking arms suddenly surged in size, definitely bigger than my own, looking like some real bodybuilder, not just an amateur, but some professional title baring bodybuilding hunk, a definition of physical perfection I could only dream of achieving. “OH-fuck, does that feel GOOD!” Dad groaned out loud, all while the whole gym stared, shocked, as he somehow began picking up the pace. He wasn't slowing down like he should have, gritting his teeth, grossly snarling, as the veins in his musclebound and hairy grandpa-looking arms suddenly exploded to grotesque size. Then his biceps, the fat steak sized meat packed triceps, began to rumble, quake beneath his already tight translucent skin, like some ready to erupt volcano. Soon his arms didn't just look twenty-inches, but twenty-one inches, then twenty-two inches. The already obscenely tight sleeveless shirt squeezed tighter, then out of nowhere, impossibly, his indecently painted on gym shorts ballooned even bigger, strained around his bloated old man thighs, his groin, even the back his disgustingly swampy and global muscle man butt. “AW-Yeah, look at this PUMP I'm getting!” Dad roared, continuing his relentless pumping, rep after rep. “I'm looking HUGE!” *RIIIPPP* *RRIIIPPPPPP* “D-Dad, y-your shirt…” I whimpered in concern, in total dumbfounded disbelief, but of course, the old man couldn't have cared less. He stared at himself in the gym mirrors proudly, arrogantly, looking like his ego had exploded ten-fold, the pride of a young testosterone dripping teenager, marveling over the display of hulking muscle bulging destruction, happening right underneath one of his heaving hairy daddy-pecs. There was a small snicker, as he just kept on lifting, unapologetically even, staring right back at me, swinging the two massive weights around like it was a warm up, not stopping until the other side of his shirt unequivocally matched. *RIIPPPPPP* *RIIIIPPPPPPPPP* “HAHA, OH-God damn, would you just check out this PUMP!” *THUD, THUD* Dad set the two weights down on the ground, standing fully up, looking horrendously bigger, a lot bigger! We used to be pretty much eye level, but now, somehow, we weren't even close! The top of his burly bearded face and piercing blue grey eyes soared a couple inches over my own. And then there was the all that muscle, all those rippling layers of bulging new bodybuilder power. He turned to me almost immediately, with a giant smirk on his face, flexing one of his colossal and nearly sixty-year old arms, an absolutely monstrous and musky twenty-three inch hairy arm muscle, this peaking sweaty mountain of bicep, right in my jaw dropped face. “J-JESUS, d-dad!” I whimpered in humility. “I can BARELY breathe!” “GOD-damn, BOY!” Dad chuckled mockingly. “Your old man's BICEP is as big as your whole FACE!” “P-PLease… D-Dad…” I found struggle in my own words, to even breathe, burning red in the face from humiliation, as my dad just continually publically tortured me, feeling as if this eclipsing mountainous muscle stuffed against my face, would be my inevitable doom. But my father luckily pulled away, moving onto the display of his own meaty male muscle cleavage, his own massive hairy pectorals, the cinematic destruction of his workout shirt. You'd think the embarrassing spectacle would have been over, but it wasn't, far from it actually. “HAHA, never thought that I would have TITS bigger than most woman…” Dad joked looked down, relishing on the insane rolling view of his blimping silver chest. With the now insane measurements of his own chest, he nearly effortlessly, not even having to muster up half his strength, that mind-blowing muscle cleavage, to explode through the rest of his upper shirt fabric, huge pec after pec, fat nipple after nipple, suddenly unleashed. *SNAP, SNAP* *RIIIPPPPPPP* “OH-fuck yeah!” Dad bellowed. “W-WHOA, BRO!” Some random college jock approached my father. “You're like the HULK with those giant pecs!” “The HULK, huh!?” Dad responded with a grunt, a gigantic smirk, looking down at the marveling and significantly younger gym jock, having another lightbulb, a deliciously devilish idea, go off in his twisted head. He suddenly turned his stance, the strain of his clothes loudly audible as he walked, cracking and popping all the fabric like branches in a storm. The college aged stud gulped, trembled a bit, with his mouth dangling open, his eyes bulging out of his own sockets, as he came into sweaty view of my father's mammoth and ready to explode backside. It didn't take much more than simple movement, flaring out his grotesquely muscle engorged veiny arms to the side of his godly stance, placing his hands on his waist, right before everyone heard the first dramatic tear. *RIIIPPP* My dad couldn't help but chuckle once more, snicker even, his voice sounding even deeper then before, manlier, powerful. With one sudden and swift flex, the back of his sweaty bulging gym shirt was detonated, exploding all the pieces of sweaty grandpa-pungent fabric, right onto the jocks whimpering awestruck face. *POP, SNAP* *RIIIPPPPPPPPP* “H-HOLY-shit, bro!!!” The jock wailed in amazement, removing the destroyed fabric from off his dumbfounded face, the inside of his dangling mouth. “How's THAT for the HULK!?” Dad roared with arrogance, tilting his now bull-sized neck to the side, staring into the large gym floor mirrors reflection, seeing that tiny college jock stand behind him pathetically, like a little school girl, whimpering. Soon after, his two other jock-friends joined him shortly, absolutely losing themselves, as well, over the incredible live muscle devastation. One of the onlooking guys even had this pudgy boner, a pea-sized wet spot, tenting against his light gray gym shorts, totally fagging out. My dad couldn't have cared less, so power drunk off all the attention, he actually fed back into the three men’s queerness, rubbing one of his iron blistered hands right down the middle of his humongous muscular bodybuilding butthole. . “H-HEY man, I'm n-not GAY…” The main college stud whimpered, looking frantically around at his equally jaw-dropped friends, but of course, they all couldn't stop themselves from continuing to stare, drool for that matter. Dad, with an enormous grin plastered on his face, began slowly flexing his lower half, causing his totally titanic swampy old man muscle butt, those unbelievably pumped mammoth muscle thighs, to swell even bigger, just by just a single blink of his commanding power. The ready to blow gym shorts began splitting obscenely around the seams, first around his legs, then right down the center of his gigantic ballooning bodybuilder butthole. *RIIIPPPP* *RIIIPPPPPPP* “O-OH M-MY God!” The three jocks wailed. “FUCK-yeah!” Dad roared. “Just check out the size of those GLUTES, BOYS!” The old man confidentially roared, right as his shorts fell to the ground, leaving him almost completely naked, just his pair of shoes and the most rank sweaty briefs you had ever laid eyes on, so much grandpa-looking pubic hair spilling out the front of his briefs it was grotesque. But my dad continued to flex anyway, enjoying the whole mind boggling spectacle from his own reflection, maneuvering his nearly naked gigantic muscle man butt, even closer to the three whimpering and comparatively puny college jocks, bending over like it was some muscle porn show. “OH-man, he's S-SO fucking H-HUGE!” Another jock wailed like a girl, just as my dad’s tattered white slightly shit-stained grandpa-briefs began squeezing up between the enormous canyon of his own swampy ass crack, helplessly gobbled up, inch by inch, as if his ass was actually eating, leaving nothing more than an inch or two to cover himself from behind, barely anything in the front! “HAHA, looks like ALL my CLOTHES are about to go!” Dad roared with laughter, leaving those gym jocks speechless, in there own puddle of drool, two of them now, boning humiliatingly, stammering to strap their throbbing cock-shafts into the waistband of their gym shorts. As I looked around, out of the bubble of my disbelief, there was a whole crowd of people with their smartphones out, taking pictures, taking videos. Eventually we were asked to leave by the manager, but once again, my dad couldn't have cared less. He strut his huge and nearly naked, grotesquely hairy, old man physique, right out into the parking lot, right out into broad public daylight. He didn't even care about the clothes he left in the locker room, knowing, laughably, that they would no longer fit. “UN-fucking-believable!” Dad roared, adjusting his entirely horse-sized manhood beneath the wheel. “Did you SEE their faces!?” He continued boasting to me in the car, on the drive back to his place. As if things couldn't get any worse, when we got to a red light, about five minutes later driving, dad, besides continually fixing his out of control aroused musky-old man cock, began playfully flexing his now mammoth and hairy musclebound thighs, thirty-four inches each from the looks of it, right against the underside of the steering wheel, wondering if it was going to “POP OFF”, he kept on repeatedly joking. “D-DAD, don't break the car!” I whined worryingly. “Why NOT, son?” Dad chucked, no doubt mustering up another joke. “It'll just turn into good scrap-metal for me to LIFT!” He roared with laughter, raising, more like hauling, his colossal silver muscle arm over my comparatively small little head, still being at a red light, he began twisting and squeezing his power striations against the thin metal roof of his old Honda Civic. I watched looking up, with my mouth once again hanging wide open, seeing the metal actually warp and make the most god-awful groaning sound. *CRRREAKKKKKK* Dad just kept it though, even after the light turned green, flexing his huge skull-sized peaking hairy bicep relentlessly against of the ceiling of the car, almost like he was trying to blow the whole roof off. He giggled after about a minute, like some innocent little boy, playing with his new toy, three or four cars honking behind us, as he no doubt fantasized about another muscle destructing scenario. “HAHA, guess I better invest in a convertible…” Dad joked, smirking right at me, winking. He looked so stuffed into that tiny car already, it would have actually made sense. To think, when we had left the house this morning, he looked like a mere average bodybuilder, an old one, but now he was this total stage- ready competition-crushing muscle hunk, insatiable for more size, a desire to grow endlessly. The next two days were our off days, Saturday and Sunday. The whole situation had me absolutely biting my nails, sick to my stomach even, especially about the growing part. Even when I watch the videos online that people posted, “Huge Grandpa Growing”, over and over again, I just didn't understand how he was doing it, how this whole thing was even possible. Luckily, dad, wasn't to savvy with computers. “Morning, DAD!” I showed up to his house Monday morning, for our usual pre-workout breakfast. Usually the old man would be already cooking in the kitchen, but this morning, there was only these loud beastly grunts, emanating from the bathroom down the hall, the running shower. I know it was wrong of me, it was so wrong of me to even think it, but with an enormous gulp, I began, feeling intoxicated by the prospect, making my way down the long dark hallway, seeing the light at the end, the open bathroom doorway, a view of his naked figure after a long weekend. He was without a doubt jacking-off, the old-pervert still had it in him. As I turned the corner, even I had to cover my mouth from the loud escaping gasp about to be released, but it was tragically too late. “Is that YOU, son?” Dad’s voice bellowed. He was huge, monstrous, godly, a voice so deep, it vibrated my ear drums. The shadowed outline of his physique, this totally door-wide gigantic muscular backside, even through all the steam, I could tell, his shoulder width must have easily stretched up to four feet wide. Sitting below, two watermelon-sized glutes slammed against the steamed glass, the silhouette of these two tree-trunk sized legs, with nowhere to go, bloated and stuffed so largely together with muscle, it was a wonder how he could even move, how he even got into the shower in the first place. I knew I had to say something... “Y-Yeah…” I stuttered nervously, shaking, creeping out from behind the corner. “S-Should I start making us b-breakfast, Dad?” “SO glad you're here, squirt.” Dad blatantly ignored my question. “I need help WASHING my backside. There’s just TOO much muscle for me to move, HAHA!” My eyes bulged as he laughed, right out of my sockets, wanting to cover my ears from his tremendously deep voice, the loud thumping of the shower with each small movement of his no doubt gigantic feet. I couldn't believe what he was asking, what I was still seeing. We had seen each other naked tons of times, even when I was growing up as a kid, but this was different, this felt GAY! “U-Uh…” I stuttered, looking down at my bulging cock. “OH-come on, son! Don't be a QUEER about this.” Dad bellowed demeaningly. “Your DAD needs help.” He made it sound so serious, but I could hear that undertone, that snicker. I undressed anyway, knowing what was about to happen, whimpering at my misfortune. There was no going back from this... ******************************************** READ PART 3 HERE Comments are appreciated !
  15. This story came about from an idea I had a month ago, after re-reading my favourite story on this forum, which was archived from the old forum. The conversation I had with the author, where he gave me permission to use parts of his story in mine, can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/index.php?app=members&module=messaging&section=view&do=showConversation&topicID=23174&st=0#msg108559 I separated my parts of the story from the author's parts with a line of equal signs: ================== ANDREW'S RECRUITING SUMMER CHAPTER 1: ANDREW MAKES A NEW FRIEND IN WASHINGTON, D.C. Andrew, Carrie and Mike, after spending Canada Day 2005 in Orillia with their parents, headed down to Washington, DC to spend Independence Day at the National Mall. They took Highway 11 south from Orillia to Barrie, where they took Highway 400 down to Toronto. Then they took the 427 to the QEW and headed around the western edge of Lake Ontario to Fort Erie. There, they crossed the border into Buffalo, New York and took US Highway 219 south to Dubois, Pennsylvania. They then turned east onto Interstate 80 and took it to US Hwy 15. They took that highway south to Harrisburg, the State Capitol of Pennsylvania, at the junction of Interstates 81 and 83. They spent the night at a hotel in that city. On July 3rd, Andrew and his friends took a scenic route into Washington DC, taking I-81 down to Hagerstown, Maryland, where they stopped at Borders Bookstore. Then they took I-81 southwest from Hagerstown Maryland into West Virginia, where they stopped at the State Welcome Center and had lunch at the BBQ that was going on. After lunch, they took I-81 further south into Virginia, and turned east onto US Hwy 50 just south of Winchester. They took that highway right into Fairfax, where they stopped at the Fairfax Towne Center and had supper at Five Guys Burgers and Fries. Then they proceeded to their hotel: the Comfort Inn Pentagon City in Arlington, Virginia. Once they had checked in, Andrew, Mike and Carrie jogged to the National Mall in Washington DC, to plot out their route for the morning of July 4th. Late the next morning, on Independence Day, Andrew, Carrie and Mike woke up in their hotel rooms, ready for their 90 minute walk to the National Mall. "I'm glad we scouted out the route last night while jogging," Mike said to Andrew, as they had a late breakfast after showering and getting dressed. "Yeah man," Andrew agreed. "It only took us about half an hour to jog there, but today we'll walk, since there will be so many people heading there." "Good thing we're leaving your truck at the hotel," Carrie said. "The traffic in the National Mall today (July 4th) would be at a standstill for hours. Not to mention that we would never be able to find a parking space." "That's why I picked this hotel Carrie," Andrew reminded her with a smug grin. "It's within walking distance of the National Mall." "Well that was fine for last night Andrew, but maybe we should take the train today," Carrie suggested. "Good idea Carrie," Andrew agreed. "I scouted out a few Metro Stations during our run last night and I believe the Pentagon City Station should serve our needs nicely." http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/dc/DC_Metro_Map_2013.svg/2000px-DC_Metro_Map_2013.svg.png "You're right Andrew," Mike agreed, looking at the Metro Map and the street map side by side. "We can walk northeast on Army-Navy Drive until we get to the Pentagon Row Shopping Center and the Metro Station is right there." https://www.google.ca/maps/place/Comfort+Inn+Pentagon+City/@38.8576678,-77.0593496,14z/data=!4m2!3m1!1s0x89b7b14a8fdfabd5:0x30a73c112191b664 So after breakfast the three teens began walking towards the National Mall, making sure to take a picture of the Air Force Memorial along the way. ==================================================================================================================================================== “Will we have to switch to the yellow line at the Pentagon station to get to L’Enfant Plaza?” I asked as we pulled into the parking garage of the Franconia-Springfield Metro Station. “I don’t think so,” JP answered from the driver’s seat, turning toward Chrissy who was sitting next to him. “Chrissy, didn’t they change the lines around to direct crowds better?” She didn’t answer, staring at JP’s body, totally enraptured by his newest brawn. “Chrissy?” “Huh, what?” she said, suddenly coming out of the daze. “Oh, yeah, you’re right.” He smiled warmly, causing her face to turn a crimson red. It was the Fourth of July and we were headed into DC to see the fireworks on the National Mall. Chrissy had nearly wet her pants at the sight of JP when we arrived to pick her up. At 174 pounds – probably 175 by now – of pure muscle, he was starting to look like a god. His light blue tank-top beautifully accentuated his chiseled shoulders and arms, the color brought out the bright blue in his eyes. He looked…well, perfect. We walked across the bridge into the station, bought our tickets and hopped aboard the train. Immediately, JP began attracting stares from other passengers, their eyes filled with awe. They couldn’t quite believe that a kid his age could be so phenomenally built. They marveled at how his strong, wide neck supported his flawless face, how the straps of the tank-top draped over his gracefully curved traps, how his thick shoulders and arms bulged with muscle upon muscle and were covered with writhing veins, how his lats flared out making the difference between his broad shoulders and tiny waist that much more impressive. And his butt…man, JP’s ass was beyond gorgeous, its perfect bubble shape provocatively filling the seat of his shorts. I, myself, couldn’t keep from watching my boyfriend’s muscular arms jump and flex efficiently while holding onto the pole of the Metro car, his shoulders and lats shifting silently underneath his thin skin as we hurtled smoothly through the suburbs. ===================================================================================================================================================== Within half an hour, Andrew, Carrie and Mike had arrived at the Pentagon City Metro Station. They bought their tickets and stepped aboard the train, which would take them to the L’Enfant Plaza Station just south of the National Mall. ===================================================================================================================================================== "Oh my god," JP said softly, so that only I could hear him. "What is it?" I asked him, following his startled gaze over to the open train doors. My eyes widened as the two biggest guys I had ever seen in my life stepped onto the train. "Those guys are so big they make your brother look like a midget," I whispered in fear. JP glared at me, which reminded me that he was still smaller than his brother. "Sorry JP, I didn't mean it like it sounded." "That's okay Matt," JP assured me, the anger fading from his eyes. A look of fear, which I had rarely seen before, showed up in his eyes. "I never thought I would be scared of any guy now that I'm such a good wrestler, but even I wouldn't be able to take on those muscular brutes," he whispered so that Chrissy couldn't hear. The slightly bigger guy, who had red hair and must have been six and a half feet tall, seemed to hear JP and looked towards him. The huge guy smiled and nodded at JP and after a few seconds of hesitation JP nodded back bravely. "Good job JP," I whispered. "I would've been too scared to make eye contact with such a big guy." JP smiled and I was relieved to see that the fear in his eyes had been replaced with his usual confidence. ===================================================================================================================================================== "Good job Andrew," Carrie commended him. "You scared that guy in the light blue tank top at first, but once you nodded at him, it seemed to put him at ease." "That was my intent Carrie," Andrew informed her. "I know a fellow athlete when I see one and even though he's a lot smaller than I am, I think I want to get to know him better. He looks familiar; once I remember where I've seen him before, I'll introduce myself." "I'm sure you'll get the chance once we're at the National Mall Andrew," Carrie assured him. "I think that everyone on this train is going to get off at the L’Enfant Plaza Station." ====================================================================================================================================================== The three of us heedlessly joked around the whole time and before we knew it, we were coming up the escalator to ground level. As soon as we had picked our spot smack dab in the middle of the National Mall – between the Hirshhorn Museum and the National Archives – JP opened up his backpack and pulled out his beloved Navy Frisbee. “We should get a little game in before it gets too crowded,” he suggested, beginning to pull off his tank-top. Chrissy let out an audible gasp as she saw his bare torso. My heart did a flip, like it always did when he would strip off his shirt. “God, you’re getting to be such a hunk,” she gushed, eyeing his massive chest, “you’re gonna be turning straight guys gay soon.” I burst out laughing, practically choking on my own spit. Chrissy quickly looked over at me. “What?” I couldn’t answer her, I was in such hysterics. JP smiled enchantedly and peered over at me. A chill went down my back. “You should see Matt’s body now, Chrissy,” he commented. “He’s getting bigger, too. Take off your shirt, Matt!” Chrissy looked in my direction with aroused eyes. I bit my lip and acquiesced to my boyfriend’s bidding – how could I not? I not-so-expertly wrestled my T-shirt over my head and threw it on top of JP’s backpack. “Wow!” Chrissy exclaimed. “You look amazing!” She sighed, passing her eyes between JP and me. I could tell that she was in heaven, being sandwiched between the two of us. “I can’t believe I’m hanging out with the two most gorgeous guys in the world,” she said, coming toward me and gently laying her hands on my abs. She raised her head and gazed into my eyes. “Matt,” Chrissy whispered, “I never realized until now how hot you are.” Her hands slid up to my chest, brushing against my nipples. Was she coming on to me? “I’ve been working out a bit,” I admitted, shrugging. Although I was still nothing compared to JP’s body, I had managed some modest gains myself. At 155 pounds – a full 10 pounds heavier than I was during crew season – I was in the best shape of my life. My body fat had dropped to just below 10%, so I knew that all of that new weight was muscle. My chest was developing pecs, my arms were gradually growing thicker and my six-pack – my most prized possession – was getting well-defined. “You gonna play Frisbee with us, Chrissy, or are you just gonna stare at Matt?” JP taunted, smiling brightly. Chrissy blushed and took off her own T-shirt, revealing a white tube-top underneath that clung tightly to her firm breasts. The girl was incredibly hot herself and I know that if I had been straight, I would’ve been completely boned right at that moment. She had an incredibly fit body – curves in all the right places – so you could imagine the looks we got from people, girls and guys. Of course, one look at JP and none of the other guys dared approach Chrissy, assuming that he was her boyfriend and that they would have to go through him first. Little did they know how lucky they might have been if they had tried. ====================================================================================================================================================== Once Andrew and his friends arrived in the middle of the National Mall, between the Hirshhorn Museum and the National Archives, Andrew opened up his backpack and took out his Miami Hurricanes football. "Are you ready for some football Mike?" he asked his teammate. "Yeah Andrew; I'm always ready," Mike assured him. "But do you think it would be a good idea to get a few pictures of the US Capitol Building and the White House before it gets dark in a couple of hours?" "Let's throw the football around for a while first," Andrew decided. "Then we can see those two buildings and get back to our spot on the lawn here by dusk." So for the next hour, Andrew and Mike threw the Miami football back and forth, making sure to take off their t-shirts to show off their massive muscles. As crowds of people began to fill the National Mall in preparation for the fireworks that evening, Andrew and Mike began to draw stares of awe and fear from the people around them. Andrew also noticed the brown haired guy from the train staring at him with a mixture of awe and envy. Andrew grinned at the guy, who bravely nodded back, before he had to dive to catch the Navy Frisbee his smaller friend threw him. ====================================================================================================================================================== For the next couple of hours, we tossed the Frisbee around in fun – no one bothered keeping score. Chrissy and I both admired JP’s athleticism, despite his dense musculature. No matter how far or in what direction I threw the Frisbee, he never failed to catch it, often making spectacular dives to do so. He was just so fast and agile. He was so strong and beautiful. He was a superjock. ===================================================================================================================================================== An hour after they had started throwing the football around, Andrew said to Mike, "I think we've thrown the football around long enough. It's time to go get our pictures of the Capitol Building and the White House before it gets dark. Then we'll get back to our spot here by sunset, about half an hour before the fireworks start." "How will we find our spot once this area is completely filled with people Andrew?" Carrie asked, as Mike put the football in the bag. "We'll look for the guy on our left who's been throwing the Navy Frisbee around with his friend; he's impossible to miss," Andrew informed her. "Especially since he's had his tank-top off for the past hour," Carrie reminded him with a sexy grin. "Careful Carrie; you only have one boyfriend and that's me!" Andrew shouted, flexing his massive biceps. "Whatever you say Andrew," Carrie chuckled as Mike stood up wearing Andrew's backpack. "It looks like we're ready to go." "Yes we are Carrie," Andrew said, looking over to his left and smirking. Carrie followed his gaze and saw the well-muscled guy holding the Navy Frisbee staring at Andrew. Then the guy turned away, embarrassed to be caught staring, and threw the frisbee to his friend. "Has that guy been staring at us for the past hour Andrew?" "Yeah, ever since Mike and I took our shirts off Carrie," Andrew replied, as they started walking towards the Capitol Building. "You've enjoyed shocking him with your huge muscles over the past hour, haven't you Andrew?" Carrie suddenly realized. "Yeah I have Carrie," Andrew replied. "I have been impressed, however, with how quickly he's regained his composure and bravely nodded back at me every time I've nodded at him. Hopefully, by the time we get back to our spot, I'll have remembered where I've seen his picture. Then I can introduce myself to him." "I'm going to take a picture looking back towards our spot on the lawn so that we can find our way back," Mike said. "Good idea Mike," Andrew agreed, as they crossed the street. The three friends turned around to look back towards the Washington Monument. "Make sure you get the guy from the train in the center of the picture. That way, we'll be sure to find our spot when we get back." Mike took the picture and then they continued on their way towards the Capitol Building. Andrew and his two friends continued walking closer to the Capitol Building, and then Andrew suddenly noticed a group of US Army guys up ahead in black t-shirts standing near their trucks. "I'm going to ask them if we can get a picture with them," Andrew decided, quickly putting his t-shirt back on. "I'll signal you two to join me if they say yes." Andrew bravely walked up to the Army guys, all of whom looked glad that they were on the other side of the fence from such a huge muscular guy. It's the same reaction I get from guys at the Reserves, Andrew said to himself with a silent sigh. I really wish people would stop being afraid of how big and strong I am, but I guess that's impossible! The Army guys were glad to have their picture taken with Andrew and his friends, especially after Andrew showed them his Military ID. They even pointed Andrew and his two friends in the direction of the Capitol Reflecting Pool, where other Army guys would be preparing mini-artillery guns for firing later in the evening. Andrew and his friends continued walking and soon saw a good view of the Capitol Building above the treetops: the "CNN view" as some called it. "Good job Mike; you're getting lots of good pictures of our first trip to Washington DC," Andrew commended his big friend. "Thanks Andrew, I get the feeling that we'll always remember this day," Mike said. "Yes we will Mike: because I just remembered where I've seen that guy with the Navy Frisbee before," Andrew said. "Well don't keep it to yourself Andrew!" Carrie admonished him, once she realized he wasn't going to say anything more. "All in good time Carrie; we're approaching those mini-Artillery guns the Army guys told us about," Andrew informed her. Just like the Army guys at the trucks, the guys manning the guns gladly posed for pictures with Andrew and his friends. After the pictures were taken, Andrew made sure to thank the soldiers for their service. The soldiers promptly thanked Andrew for his support, making Andrew feel very humbled and proud that he served his country like they did theirs. Then Andrew and his friends moved on, making their way around the northern edge of the Capitol Building until they reached the large plaza on the east side. "I have an idea for your next profile picture on MySpace Andrew," Mike said suddenly. "What is it Mike?" Andrew asked, as Carrie continued taking pictures. "Stand under the dome and raise your arms as if you're holding it up," Mike suggested. "We'll call it 'Capitol Muscle' or something." "I think 'Capitol Dome Military Press' has a better ring to it," Andrew said, positioning himself properly for the picture. He grinned as Mike took the picture and then asked, "There now Mike: are you happy now?" "Yes I am Andrew; let's head to the White House now," Mike suggested. "Before we go, take a picture towards the Washington Monument in the distance," Carrie suggested. "It's starting to get dark and it will make a great picture." Mike took the picture and then they made their way down Pennsylvania Avenue to the White House. Once they got there, they found lots of people taking pictures and after a couple of blurry attempts, they decided to cross the street so that they could get a better close-up view. "Good job Carrie; I think you're a better photographer than Mike," Andrew said proudly. "That's because I'm the Yearbook Photographer Andrew," Carrie reminded him with a smug grin as Mike frowned. "Are we finished taking pictures now?" Mike asked impatiently. "Can we get back to the lawn before the crowds leave us no place to sit to watch the fireworks?" "Good point Mike; it's almost sunset," Andrew realized. "And it looks like it's going to rain," he added, as the first drops began to fall. "You'd better use the umbrella in the backpack Carrie," Andrew suggested. "You don't want to get all wet." "What about you and Mike Andrew?" Carrie asked, as she took the fold-up umbrella out of the backpack. "Mike and I will drink in the water of life and it will cleanse us from our exertions over the last two hours," Andrew replied cryptically. "You mean the rain will wash off the sweat you worked up from playing football in the hot sun," Carrie laughed, amused at Andrew's attempt to sound wise and mysterious. "Those were pretty good metaphors you just used Andrew." "Thanks Carrie; sometimes I try to sound wise so that people don't forget that I have brains and not just brawn," Andrew informed her. "I don't think anyone who has seen you today with your shirt off will forget that you have brawn," Carrie assured him, making the understatement of the year. Andrew grinned at her in agreement as they made their way back to their spot near the Hirshhorn Museum, by way of the Washington Monument. ====================================================================================================================================================== Soon after JP and I finished throwing his Navy Frisbee around, the skies began to cloud up and it started to pour. We didn’t bother running for cover, instead letting the warm rain soak our skin, though Chrissy quickly realized she would have a problem. “Shit,” she cried, “I’m wearing a white shirt.” JP and I laughed as I loaned her my dark blue shirt so she could cover up her tits. She gave me a peck on the cheek and said, “Thanks, Matty.” I blushed, nervously looking over at my boyfriend who was sniggering. The sudden downpour didn’t last too long, however, and the sun quickly came out again just before it dipped behind the Washington skyline. JP and I decided to run to a nearby concession stand and get something to eat. As we stood in line, my boyfriend leaned over and whispered in my ear. “I think Chrissy’s starting to have a crush on you now,” he said. I looked at him like he was crazy. “Seriously,” he continued. “She knows I’m not interested in her anymore, so she’s moving on.” JP was always quick at picking these things up – or at least quicker than I. “But, I’m already taken,” I rebutted, looking fondly into his angelic eyes. “What am I going to do?” He grinned. “Welcome to my world,” he said, patting me firmly on the back. ======================================================================================================================================================= Andrew, Carrie and Mike got back to their spot on the lawn and marvelled at the view of the National Mall at dusk. "We should make this an annual event Carrie," Andrew informed his girlfriend. He looked towards the Washington Monument with the dusky sky behind it and added, "It's very relaxing here in DC, even on July 4th." "I agree Andrew," Carrie said, snuggling up against the massive chest of her boyfriend. "Plenty of eye candy too." "What do you mean?" Andrew asked her. "Did you see the guy to our left making spectacular dives to catch the Navy Frisbee his friend threw him a couple of hours ago?" "Yeah I did, before we got our pictures of the Capitol Building and the White House, " Andrew replied, smiling at the memory. "He's really athletic and muscular, and he's the same guy we saw on the train. I'm trying to figure out how to introduce myself to him, but I can't think of a good way to do it." He looked over to their left and realized something. "I don't see him now, or his brother, just his girlfriend lone on the blanket to our left." Then his eyes narrowed as he saw something that demanded his immediate attention. He stood up with his fists clenched and glared over to his left. "What is it Andrew?" Carrie asked him, standing up beside him. "Trouble," Andrew replied through gritted teeth. "Stay here Carrie; we'll be right back. Come on Mike." Carrie knew better than to argue with that tone of voice and she stayed behind as Andrew and Mike headed over to stop the troubling scene about to unfold. But as they soon found out, their intervention would prove unnecessary. ====================================================================================================================================================== It was almost dark by the time we headed back to our spot on the lawn. As we approached, JP grabbed my elbow, stopping me in my tracks. I looked at him puzzled, but he was staring grimly in Chrissy’s direction. She was lying on the blanket as two brawny college-aged jocks stalked toward her unseen, eyeing her schemingly. They were about to hit on her…and it was obvious that these guys were the type that would not take no for an answer. The bigger one must have outweighed me by at least 60 or 70 pounds – though a lot of it probably was fat – and the smaller one wasn’t much smaller. Their broad chests filled their wife-beaters to a near-ripping state, their arms thick with bulk. Cautiously, we snuck closer to within earshot. “Hey, baby,” the larger of the two nagged, startling Chrissy. “You alone tonight?” She craned her head up indignantly. “No,” she snapped firmly but calmly, “I’m with two guys who could knock you both out without a fight.” I gulped. Please tell me she’s bluffing, I thought. This only seemed to amuse them. “Really?” the other one retorted. “Well, I don’t see them around right now. You need someone to cuddle with?” “Don’t you even think about it!” I heard a deep voice bellow from behind me. It was JP, an intense fire bolting from his eyes, his muscles twitching with fury. The remaining twilight reflected off his body and buzzed head so magnificently, he was downright intimidating. The smaller guy’s mouth dropped open slightly when he sighted the kid, but the other guy remained unfazed. “This pretty boy is your boyfriend,” he smirked, peering at him assertively. “No,” JP returned without missing a beat, “but I am your worst nightmare.” It was the way he said those words that sent a chill down my spine. The older jock scoffed. “You wanna fight me? Us two against you two?” My heart was pounding and my knees were wobbling. What was JP doing? He couldn’t possibly be enticing the guys to fight us. Though I knew my boyfriend could take this guy, I was certain I’d be dead against the other. I froze. Arrogantly, the bigger dude sauntered up to JP who stood his ground, not moving a muscle. The two jocks were standing eyeball to eyeball, their beefy chests almost touching each other. The jerk slowly raised his fist, an egotistical sneer spreading across his face. That’s when JP struck. In the blink of an eye, JP pounced and expertly twisted his opponent’s arm behind his back, making him yelp in pain. Before he even had a chance to respond, the jerk’s head was forced back over his shoulder by JP’s other arm so that he looked him straight through the eyes. The guy had no choice but to look back as JP shot him his debilitating look of death. “You sure you wanna mess with me?” my boyfriend hissed. His challenger merely gagged in reply, JP’s powerful forearm practically crushing his windpipe. He realized he didn’t have a prayer with the champion wrestler who could, with one quick snap of his neck, take away his life. JP gave him one more squeeze and, as quickly as he had put his opponent in the position, he threw him out of it, leaving him coughing and sputtering on the ground. I stood there stunned. Other than during a wrestling match, never before had I seen him attack someone. It simply wasn’t a contest. The other guy may have weighed more, but he couldn’t match JP’s amazing strength and quickness. His friend helped him off the ground and the two hurried away, afraid to even look at the younger kid again. Immediately, Chrissy ran up and threw her arms around JP. “Oh my God, JP,” she exclaimed, her fingers barely able to fully grasp his huge shoulders, “that was so brave of you! Thanks!” Then, she gave him a big kiss on the cheek. JP merely shrugged and blushed a deep red. “Wait ‘till my brother hears about this.” JP looked back at her, smiling, happy to change the subject. “Nick’s coming to the wrestling camp this summer, right?” Chrissy nodded. “Are you kidding?” she answered. Her little brother Nick was 12 years old and was going to be in seventh grade the next school year. And like many boys in our area, he idolized JP. According to Chrissy, her brother had clipped out every newspaper article about his hero during wrestling season and had been bugging her to take him to a match. As soon as he heard that JP, along with the help of his coaches, was organizing a one-week summer wrestling camp for middle school kids, he instantly jumped at the chance and persuaded his parents to sign him up. Now, he was counting down the days until it started. “He wants to be just like you when he grows up,” Chrissy gushed. “Well, the great JP Maloney makes one helluva role model,” I added, patting my boyfriend on his wide back. "He certainly does," a very deep voice agreed from their right. JP and I looked over to where the voice came from and our jaws dropped. ======================================================================================================================================================= Andrew smirked slightly at the look of shock on both guys' faces. Then the bigger guy in the light blue tank top narrowed his eyes at Andrew, and asked him, "You want to try to mess with me too?" "No man," Andrew assured him, slightly intimidated by the guy's intensity, even though he outweighed him by about 100 pounds. "I just wanted to congratulate you on how well you took care of those two jerks. If someone tried anything like that with my girlfriend, I would have reacted the same way. I was about to intervene to help your girlfriend out but you got there first." "He's right JP," the girl said. "He was coming over to help me before you showed up; that's why I felt brave enough to tell those two jerks to go away." "Thanks man," JP said gratefully, calming down now that he knew the huge red-haired guy wasn't going to cause any trouble. "It's good to know that there are still some good guys left, instead of just jerks." He walked over to Andrew and held out his hand. "I'm JP Maloney of Central High School." "I thought you looked familiar," Andrew said, shaking JP's hand. "I've seen your picture in the Washington papers. I'm Andrew Pearson from Orillia District High School." "Andrew Pearson: the YouTube Football Star?" JP asked him with raised eyebrows. "You've heard of me?" Andrew asked him in surprise. "Yeah man; you're famous, at least online," JP informed him. "You must be really smart, using a new video-sharing website to get the attention of the NCAA Recruiters that way." "Yeah man," Andrew agreed, unconsciously mimicking his new friend's speech patterns. "But to prove it, I'd better remember to introduce my friends to you. The big guy with brown hair beside me is Mike and the girl beside him is my girlfriend Carrie." "Pleased to meet you Carrie," JP said, shaking her hand gently. He turned to Mike and shook his hand firmly. "What's up man?" "My height and weight relative to yours," Mike replied, realizing that he outweighed JP by more than 100 pounds of solid muscle. "You're right about that man," JP agreed. "But I'll get big like you one day." "I'm sure you will JP," his friend agreed. He stepped forward with his hand outstretched. "I'm Matt Anderson: JP's best friend." And more than that, JP thought, as Mike and Andrew shook Matt's hand. Then Carrie and Chrissy shook hands and introduced themselves. "Since all introductions have been made, would you and your friends like to watch the fireworks with us?" JP asked Andrew. "It's the least I can do since you were ready to help Chrissy before I got there." "Thanks man; we'd love to," Andrew replied, after Mike and Carrie nodded in agreement. "Mike: go bring our blanket and bag over here." "Yes sir!" Mike shouted jokingly, saluting Andrew as he ran to their spot on the lawn to the right of JP's group. "Mike did that salute pretty well; is he in the military?" JP asked Andrew. "No, but his older brother is and so am I," Andrew replied quietly. "Thank you for your service Andrew," JP said gratefully, clapping Andrew on the shoulder. "Thank you for your support JP," Andrew said gratefully. "You're welcome man," JP said. "Now, since you're military, I bet you can guess what my initials stand for." "I can guess John Paul, but that's it," Andrew informed him. "Were you named after someone famous?" "Yes: John Paul Jones: the U.S. Naval Hero," JP replied proudly. "And you are a hero as well man," Andrew assured him proudly. "What you did to that guy who was bugging Chrissy proved that conclusively." "Thanks man," JP said gratefully. His face turned angry as he added, "But it wasn't just heroics that made me do that." "What do you mean man?" Andrew asked him quietly, leading JP away from their friends. "Or would you prefer I don't ask?" "No, it's okay Andrew; even though we just met, I know I can trust you to keep this quiet," JP assured him. He waited for Andrew's nod of agreement before he continued. "I saw my older brother's face in my mind as I had my arm around the throat of that guy." "I see; you have some transference issues with a former mentor who turned against you," Andrew said with a sudden look of understanding. "How did you figure that out?" JP asked in astonishment; amazed that Andrew could read his mind so exactly. "My former best friend Steve used to be my mentor as I started working out," Andrew revealed. "But when I exceeded him in size and strength, his jealously revealed itself as he started bashing my proteges: like Mike there." "I can't imagine why anyone would bash someone as big as Mike," JP said with a faint look of fear on his face. "He's as big as you and you must be at least 6 foot 6 and 300 pounds of solid muscle!" "6 foot 7 and 305 pounds actually," Andrew said. "Mike and I are the exact same height and weight; pretty amazing considering he was just 5 feet tall and 80 pounds when I started training him in the fall of 1998." He noticed JP's look of astonishment and decided to switch topics. "But enough about me: let's throw my Miami football around for a few minutes and you can tell me all about your older brother." "Good idea man," JP agreed, as Andrew signalled Mike to throw him the football. He smiled as Mike threw the ball with a perfect spiral and Andrew caught it effortlessly with one hand. "You and Mike make a good team Andrew." "I should hope so; we got our team to the Provincial Championship last season," Andrew remembered. "Unfortunately our team lost, but this year we'll win!" "I'm sure you will Andrew," JP agreed, smiling at his new friend with pride in his eyes. "Have you found that your success has cost you personally like mine has?" "Yeah man," Andrew replied sadly, as he turned away to look towards the Washington Monument. "My best friend of five years turned against me after I beat up the class bully, and we've barely spoken since. It sucked man, and it still hurts almost seven years later." "I know exactly how you feel man," JP said, stepping forward to lay a hand on Andrew's massive shoulder. He was amazed that he and Andrew had encountered such similar problems as they had achieved great athletic success. "My older brother Ryan turned against me once I got close to his size and strength, which is very ironic since he was the one who taught me how to work out in the first place." "That's too bad man," Andrew said, turning around and patting JP's shoulder gently. He looked back at their group and noticed Matt smiling proudly. "But it looks like you've found a new older brother in your best friend Matt." "Yeah, Matt's been great to me over the last couple of years," JP agreed. "He's really filled the void in my life that Ryan created when he walked away." He left out the part about Matt being his boyfriend; not sure that Andrew would understand. "Anyway, enough talk Andrew; time for some football." "Good idea man," Andrew agreed, lifting up his football. "Go long man; let's see how much you've learned." More than you know man, JP thought smugly, remembering fondly how Ryan had played football with him when he was younger. He jogged further down the lawn; closer to the Capitol Building. He stopped in a part of the lawn clear of people but then noticed everyone around him staring at his ripped muscles in awe. JP smirked and thought, Just wait until you see the size of the guy who throws me the football! JP held up his hands to let Andrew know that he was ready to catch the football, but then he had to dive back to catch it because Andrew threw it too far. Man, he's scary strong; I wouldn't want to get on his bad side! JP thought in astonishment and a little fear. I'm just glad that he wasn't the one bugging Chrissy; I wouldn't have been able to scare him away! "Wow, you're really strong Andrew!" JP shouted to his new friend. "What are your stats anyway?" "Six foot seven, 305 lbs, 25 inch biceps and a one-rep max bench of 880 pounds," Andrew replied smugly, crossing his huge arms over his massive chest. Everyone around him, friends and strangers alike, turned to stare at him in awe. Andrew grinned and waved at his new fans; then he flexed his massive biceps and laughed. "Yeah, it's all true everyone, as you can see on MySpace. Just look up Andrew the Tank and you'll find all my pictures!" JP's jaw had dropped along with all the onlookers, but he managed to close his mouth as Andrew turned back to look at him with a cocky smirk. "Are you going to hold that football until it gets completely dark JP?" Andrew teased him. JP shook his head with a sheepish grin and tossed the football back to Andrew in a perfect spiral. "Those stats are really impressive man," he congratulated his big friend, grinning as Andrew caught his catch with just one hand. "You must be a god on the football field." "Yeah I am man," Andrew agreed with a smug grin. "Want to see me catch my own thrown football?" "Yeah man and I'll catch it all on video to show my friends later," JP said, getting out his digital camera. He looked at the screen, after turning it on, and added, "Just stay in the light of the street lamps Andrew and I'll be able to catch everything." "Hey, who do you think you are, giving me orders Little Man?" Andrew sneered with an arrogant grin. He chuckled at JP's sudden look of fear and added, "I was just kidding man; don't get scared." "I wasn't scared Andrew," JP bluffed, hoping that no one besides Andrew had seen the look of fear on his face. "I just thought you were serious, that's all." "I understand," Andrew assured him, meaning that he knew how important maintaining the image of a fearless jock was when one was big and strong. "Are you ready JP?" "I'm ready Andrew," JP replied, turning the knob to video and pressing the record button. "Show me what you've got Big Brother," he blurted out without thinking, wishing Andrew was Ryan. "Okay Little Brother; get ready to be amazed!" Andrew shouted, realizing that he regarded JP as a protege just like he did Mike. Andrew coked his arm back and threw his football high above the treetops. He then ran down the mall towards the Capitol Building and turned to see his football curving down over the treetops. Andrew adjusted his course laterally to intercept it and caught it neatly in his arms. "Yeah!" Andrew shouted in excitement, spiking the ball and flexing his massive biceps. "Now that's how it's done!" Everyone around Andrew who had witnessed his amazing feat clapped and cheered for him, causing Andrew's face to turn red with embarrassment. JP grinned as he approached the crowd gathering around his new 'big brother', pleased that Andrew was acting humble instead of cocky. Wait until I show this video to my friends, JP thought to himself. If Andrew agrees, I may even post it on that new video-sharing site called YouTube! Then his great football skills could reach even more college recruiters! As JP reached the edges of the crowd, his admiration for Andrew grew as he saw his big friend patiently signing autographs, posing for pictures and giving some smaller guys workout tips. If only Ryan was like that instead of being a cocky jerk! JP thought angrily. Then he would be worthy of the Big Brother title like Andrew is! Andrew looked up from signing autographs and noticed JP suddenly looking very sad. He whistled to catch JP's attention and when JP looked up, he said, "Join me in the center of the crowd man." Everyone turned to see who Andrew was motioning at, and their jaws dropped as they saw JP's incredible musculature. JP suddenly became very embarrassed as everyone started asking him for pictures, autographs and workout tips. "Did you tell everyone about my success last year in wrestling?" JP asked Andrew once the crowd of fans had finally dispersed. "I didn't have to man; once I mentioned your name, everyone knew who you were already," Andrew replied. He looked down at JP with a brotherly grin as he added, "You're famous man." "Well, perhaps in this town anyway," JP muttered, suddenly embarrassed. "But you're famous all over this continent man; thanks to your YouTube videos! With your permission, I'd like to post that video of you catching your own thrown football for the US college football coaches to see. Then you'll be recruited even more than you have been! As a Canadian, you're going to need that kind of cutting-edge digital exposure to be noticed enough by the NCAA to be offered a full football scholarship!" "Ok JP, you've made your point, with lots of big words no less," Andrew teased him. As they began walking back to their friends in the center of the National Mall, he asked, "How high is your IQ man?" "Just shy of genius level, so about 150," JP admitted. "Mine's the same as yours man," Andrew realized. "Maybe that's why we're able to carry on an intelligent conversation instead of just carrying a football." "But right now, you're carrying a football Andrew, so what does that say about your intelligence?" JP teased him. "It says that I'm a smart jock, not a dumb one, because I'm actually able to speak entire sentences JP," Andrew reminded him with a smirk. "But if you really want me to act like a dumb jock, I'm sure I could learn." "That's not necessary Andrew; there's already one dumb jock in my life; I don't need another," JP said bitterly, clenching his fists as he thought about what a big jerk Ryan had turned into over the past couple of years. "I'm not going to turn out like my brother; I'm aiming higher in life than just college sports." "Well you have good aim so far JP," Andrew commended him as they made their way down the path shaded by the tall trees. As they skirted their way around the Washington Monument fence, he added, "You'd be great at football man, but from what I saw earlier, wrestling is your first love." Matt is my first love, JP thought, smiling at the thought of the wonderful summer he was going to have with his boyfriend. "Wrestling was my first love Andrew, but once I found Matt, I found someone I could really love," JP said without thinking. "Yeah, I understand what it's like to love someone like a brother," Andrew said, completely missing JP's slip. "I can see that you look at Matt as a substitute for your brother Ryan." "As I do with you now Andrew, " JP blurted out, feeling like he'd known Andrew for years. Andrew's jaw dropped in astonishment and JP hurriedly explained: "It's been really hard not having a mentor for the past couple of years man; I guess I just admire you a lot for not acting like a cocky jerk just because you're great at football." "No problem JP," Andrew assured him, once he realized what JP was trying to say. "I don't mind being your 'Honorary Big Brother' as you prepare for your college career. I'm only a phone call or email away and my hometown of Orillia is only a day's drive from here." "Thanks for being my 'Honorary Big Brother' Andrew," JP said gratefully. "I'm hoping to get a wrestling scholarship to Ohio State so that I can stay with Matt. Of course, since he's one year older than me, like you are, this is the last year we'll have together." "I know what that's like man; my friend Mark Stevenson gets a full football scholarship to Miami this fall," Andrew said. "I'll really miss him man, just as I'm sure you'll miss Matt when he goes to college in a year." He noticed what looked like a hint of tears in JP's eyes and suddenly realized that Matt and JP were more than just brothers to each other. But instead of sharing his sudden insight with his new friend, Andrew asked, "Has Ohio State recruited you yet JP?" "No man, but since I'm just going into my Junior Year, it won't be long until they do," JP predicted with a cocky smirk. "Have you visited the campus yet?" Andrew asked. "No man; why do you ask?" JP asked curiously. "I'm going to Ohio State in a few days for a recruiting visit," Andrew replied. "I know we just met, and we should ask your parents first, but would you and Matt like to come with me?" JP's jaw dropped in astonishment, amazed that Andrew (a stranger one hour ago) was proposing a road trip. But then he saw Andrew's serious look and realized that he had found a new mentor to replace his big brother Ryan. Andrew is the big brother I wish Ryan still was, JP realized. I see now that guys don't have to be related to be brothers. "That would be great Andrew," JP said, once he could speak again. He stepped closer to his new friend and motioned him to bend down. Andrew did so and JP whispered in his ear, "You're really filling the void that Ryan left when he walked away from me Andrew. I never told Matt this, but it sucked having to work out by myself without a mentor around. And even though he has been emotionally absent for the past year, this fall Ryan will be physically absent as well, since he's going off to Virginia Tech. So I have no one left to look up to. But now I can look up to you as a big brother, just like I once did with Ryan." "I'm only an email or phone call away JP," Andrew reminded him, pulling out his flip phone so that he could give JP his cell number. "And since I'm physically present, not absent, you can look up to me right now." JP chuckled as Andrew straightened up to his full height and crossed his huge arms over his massive chest. Andrew grinned at him smugly and added, "I love mentoring the little guys like-" "Little?!" JP interrupted, his cockiness suddenly returning. He flexed his 16 inch bicep and sneered, "Does this look little to you Andrew?" "Yes it does, compared to mine JP," Andrew informed him sternly, flexing his massive 25 inch bicep. JP's cocky smirk vanished quickly and Andrew nodded in satisfaction. "Remember JP, you may be the big man at your school, but then there's college and the real world to consider." JP nodded in sudden understanding, realizing that his new friend Andrew was only one of many men out there who were bigger and stronger than he was. "I'm going to tell you how my dad's cockiness prematurely ended his NFL career JP; then you'll understand why you should be more modest and humble in public." JP nodded soberly and Andrew began telling him the story about how his dad had given in to all the hype and started drinking and driving fast during his NFL career. That carefree attitude led to the car accident that shattered Chad's kneecap, tore his ACL and ended his NFL days forever. Then Chad had to crawl back to Orillia and start from the bottom of his boss's company as a Management Intern. JP's eyes widened in understanding as Andrew told him the story and he realized that his big brother could be headed for a rude awakening as well. But I'll be the one that causes it, JP thought to himself. His fists clenched as he remembered his first reason for working out: to beat up his brother one day. JP had no idea how prophetic that goal would become and how it would change both his and Ryan's lives forever. It was just about completely dark by the time Andrew and JP got back to their friends sitting on the lawn, where they had an unobstructed view of the Washington Monument. It's about time you got back here Andrew; Mike had to fill in for you," Carrie teased him. "I hope not Carrie; you only have one boyfriend and that's me," Andrew growled, glaring at Mike. JP felt as nervous as Mike looked and Carrie had to assure Andrew that she and Mike were just friends. Matt and Chrissy looked really nervous too, and JP suddenly realized that they had looked just like that as he had held that guy in a wrestling hold barely half an hour earlier. JP scratched the back of his shaved head, embarrassed that he had allowed his bad feelings about Ryan to make him lash out like that. I've got to let Matt know later why I did that, JP realized. I hope he understands like Andrew did. He breathed a sigh of relief along with everyone else when Andrew's angry look faded into a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that guys," Andrew apologized. "I guess I was just afraid that some guys would try to cause trouble with you like they did with Chrissy earlier." "What JP did to those guys is nothing compared to what you could do Andrew," Carrie reminded him. "You could have snapped their necks like twigs!" "You'd better tell everyone your idea Andrew, before the fireworks start," JP said suddenly, anxious to change the subject. "Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me man," Andrew said gratefully, slapping his new friend on the shoulder. JP concealed a wince as Andrew quickly told Carrie and Mike his idea about Matt and JP coming along on their Ohio State Recruiting Visit. "What do you think Carrie?" "It sounds great, especially since Mike and I got a chance to know Matt and Chrissy while you and JP were playing football," Carrie replied. "Good, then it's all settled except for the timing," Andrew realized. He turned to JP and said, "We're staying in the Washington area for another day before leaving on the 6th. Is that good for you and Matt?" "Yes Andrew; that should give you guys enough time to meet my parents and Matt's mom to get their permission," JP replied. Andrew looked embarrassed that he hadn't thought of that. "Don't feel bad that you forgot about that step Andrew; I think my dad will approve of you. He's really upset that Ryan took off this summer on a road trip instead of being around to mentor me; he'll be glad I've found a new mentor." "Anything I can do to help man," Andrew said quietly, feeling sobered by the fact that JP held him in such high esteem. But then he realized that JP would never have told him so much while they were alone if he didn't trust him implicitly. "I'll be there for you as much as I can JP, even when I'm away at college. As I've told you twice before now, I'm only a phone call or email away." JP grinned at his big friend, but he also felt sad that it wasn't Ryan saying those things. Where did I go wrong with Ryan? JP asked himself. Have I lost my brother forever? He should be here, sharing one last Independence Day at home with me instead of Andrew having to fill his role as my big brother! JP was distracted from his sad thoughts by the first fireworks going off and he let his cares drift away as he enjoyed the view with his friends and new 'Big Brother.' "The second one looked just like a side profile of Abraham Lincoln!" Carrie shouted in astonishment. "Do you think it was deliberately launched that way?" "I don't know Carrie, but if Mike's been taking pictures, we can find out later," Andrew replied, looking over at his big friend. Mike held up the digital camera to let Andrew know that he wasn't missing anything. "For now Carrie, let's be quiet and enjoy the show." Carrie nodded in agreement and leaned back into Andrew's massive chest. She smiled as Andrew's muscular arms folded around her gently and she realized that there was nowhere she's rather be than in the arms of her boyfriend. ===================================================================================================================================================== The rest of that night was amazing. I couldn’t stop myself from looking over at JP as the fireworks illuminated his flawless face, the different colors reflecting in his dazzling eyes. Every now and then, he would glance over at me and smile. A tear rolled down my cheek. I was so overwhelmed by his beauty and his love for me. How the hell did I get so lucky? Chrissy’s head was leaning on my lap, but I found myself wishing it were JP’s instead. I wanted him near me every minute of the day. ====================================================================================================================================================== Once the fireworks were over around 10 pm, the crowds began clearing out of the National Mall. "I'm not ready to go home yet; what about you guys?" JP asked his new friends. "I'd like to see the Lincoln Memorial," Andrew replied. When his friends nodded in agreement, he asked JP, "Would you and your friends like to join us?" "We'd be glad to Andrew," JP replied, as Matt and Chrissy nodded in agreement. "If you look beyond the Washington Monument, you can see the Lincoln Memorial from here." Andrew and his friends looked to the west and saw that JP was right. Mike took a picture as everyone admired the view. "There, now that we've seen the Lincoln Memorial, we can go home," Matt said impatiently, eager to be alone with JP. "I think Andrew meant to see it up close, as well as inside Matt," JP reminded his boyfriend with a frown. Andrew nodded in agreement and JP smirked at his boyfriend. "See, I told you Matt!" "Okay JP, I give up: we'll see Lincoln up close," Matt sighed. "Then can we go home?" "Yeah we can Matt," JP agreed, realizing that Matt was eager to be alone with him. He led his friends across the street to the path that led to the western end of the National Mall. Everyone admired the view as they walked down the path on the north side of the Tidal Basin. Andrew made sure to take a picture of the Korean War Memorial, since his deceased grandfather had fought in that war as well as World War II. The six friends finally reached the Lincoln Memorial and saw lots of people climbing the stairs, even though it was after 10:30 pm. "Quite a crowd JP," Andrew commented. "I never expected to see so many people at this monument at this time of night." "Abraham Lincoln was arguably the most famous president in our nation's history Andrew," JP reminded his big friend. "And this memorial has been the sight of many famous events since it was constructed. That's why it draws such big crowds at all times: about six million people per year." "I understand JP," Andrew said soberly, realizing the great pride JP felt for his country. "Can we go inside now?" "Sure Andrew," JP agreed, feeling sheepish that he had soured the good mood they had been enjoying most of the evening. "Follow me man; I'll get us through the crowds." Andrew and his friends followed JP up the stairs into the Lincoln Memorial and made their way through the crowds until they could get a good shot of Abraham Lincoln sitting on his chair. "That was a very good picture Mike; especially since you caught the words about Lincoln's memory being enshrined forever," Andrew commended his friend. "Thanks Andrew; I thought you'd appreciate that, considering the events of seven months ago," Mike replied. Andrew glared at Mike at first, remembering that his grandfather had died a year before a few weeks before Christmas, but then he realized that Mike had been trying in his own way to honour Bert Pearson's memory. "Thanks man; I do appreciate it," Andrew assured him, his glare fading into a sad smile as he put a gentle hand on Mike's shoulder. JP asked him what was wrong as they headed back towards the Washington Monument and Andrew told him about his war veteran grandfather: who had served in World War II and Korea during his 20 years of service in the Canadian Forces. After Andrew finished the story, JP realized that he shared a deeper kinship with his new friend than he had first thought: considering that both their grandfathers had served in the military. The group of six friends had reached the Washington Monument by then, and they got a good close-up shot. "Well, it's been great getting to know you JP, but we should get back to our hotel now," Andrew said, checking his watch. "It's almost 11:30." "If you came with us on the Metro, we can drop you off at the Pentagon City Station and then you'll have a much shorter walk back to your hotel," JP offered. "I have an idea of what we can do tomorrow." Andrew looked over at Carrie and Mike, who nodded in agreement. He looked back at JP and said, "Good idea man; thanks for thinking of that." "I'm a little surprised that you didn't Andrew," JP teased him, as they began walking to the L'Enfant Plaza Metro Station. "It's not because I'm not smart like you JP; it's because I'm from out of town," Andrew reminded him with a mock glare. When he saw JP trying not to look scared, Andrew laughed and assured him, "I'm just kidding man; we never would have had such a great Fourth of July if we hadn't met you and your friends!" Mike and Carrie grinned and nodded in agreement and JP breathed a sigh of relief. When he thought back to the one bad incident of the evening, he realized that if those two college jocks hadn't harassed Chrissy, he would never have met Andrew: his new mentor and substitute Big Brother. I wouldn't have traded this evening for anything, JP thought to himself, very pleased that he had once again found someone he could look up to. He hoped that with Andrew's help, he could one day repair his relationship with his older brother, though he suspected it would get worse before it would get better. About half an hour later, Andrew and his friends said goodbye to JP and his friends, agreeing to meet them the next afternoon at Burke Lake Park: a large park near JP's house. "Thanks for a wonderful day at the National Mall JP," Andrew said, as he stepped off the train at Pentagon City Station. "See you at Burke Lake Park tomorrow. Call me when you're ready to meet." "No problem man," JP said, holding the doors open as Mike and Carrie stepped off to stand beside Andrew on the platform. "Thanks for the wonderful opportunity to see Ohio State in a few days with you and your friends. Have a good night Andrew." "You're welcome man," Andrew said, as the doors began to close. "See you tomorrow 'Little Brother'." The doors closed before JP could reply and he quickly raised his hand to wave goodbye to Andrew. As the train pulled away from the platform, JP wished more than anything that he was waving to his true big brother Ryan. Please let me know what you think and if I did justice to the JP Character and his innermost thoughts, a point of view that I can't remember being shown before in either the JP or Nick stories. Note: I will gradually transfer the illustrated version of the story onto my website: http://seanspictures.webs.com. All the pictures will come from my trip to Washington DC on July 3rd, 2011.
  16. A short story, while I finish writing my complicated novelettes about space marines and magic, respectively. I am testing a little different way of writing technique. DISCLAIMER All protagonists, antagonists and locations in this story are fictitious. Any likeness with actual persons and locations are purely coincidental. Readers uncomfortable with the subject of male intimacy are adviced to not read further. My little buddy I remember when I first saw you. I had probably worked at Sam's Gym for five years, and at The Steel Factory for several yers before that. The Steel Factory Gym, I mean. Not an actual steel factory. Not like dad and grandpa. I am not like my dad. You were standing at a pec-dec machine, reading the instructions. Tracksuit trousers hiding your legs, a grey T-shirt which gave the impression to be one size too large. Your arms just skin and bones, your hands behind your back in a gesture more suitable for a man 30 or 40 years older than yourself. Uncomfortable body language. Sam had pointed me in your direction. 'If you are not going to use it, don't block the machine, small-fry.' It was Kevin, a fairly successful fitness model, whose personality 'didn't keep the same standards as his looks'. I remember this expression. You used it two weeks later. You are better with words than I am, and I know that I am bad at expressing my feelings. I am uncomfortable with it. Kevin wasn't aware of me, when I moved in your direction, and he added some further insults. He jumped when I laid my hand on his shoulder. 'Any problems here?' 'Uh. No, no, Brad. No problems. I just wondered if this gentleman was finished with the pec dec.' 'I have been keeping an eye on you, Kevin. Follow the house rules.' Kevin avoided to look into my eyes, by some reason concentrating very much on the newly painted coffee and amino drink bar. 'Yes, yes of course. No problems here.' I looked quizzically at you, but you shook your head, and looked into the floor. 'You are lucky, Kevin. The machine is at your disposal, since I and my client here are not going to use it.' I turned in your direction, neglecting Kevin: 'And you must be the new gym member I am scheduled to train, aren't you?' 'I suppose so. The man at the desk told me to wait for Brad. It's you?' I like the newbies. They have decided to do something new. Something different. They have decided to change themselves, and put a toe into a foreign water. It is different for us who played sports all the time. It is just what we do: Playing football at the grassy spot close to the council flats, given a try at rugby if the PE teacher make that phone call to the coach he knows. Being adviced to add some weight training, and then being hit by the bug and quitting team sports. I had a belly once. It wasn't necessarily a disadvantage, since weight is an advantage on the ground, but the belly disappeared when I began pumping iron. But I lost the thread now: What I was saying is, that I like the newbies. For us the gym is a second home. For them the gym is something unfamiliar, but they give it a try anyway. They and they... I mean you. You were one of the wide-eyed and shy newbies once. For some it is hard to admit that they like the feeling: The release of your body's own chemicals when you end your training session, and is sitting relaxing freshly showered in the locker room. The feeling of pump. The feeling after a month when the first results show. Three months. Six months. Guys are able to transform themselves. They are not competing against someone else. All of us are just competing against our former selves. I like the newbies: To be able to help them overcome their initial embarrasment and hesitation, and be able to help them to release their potential. I feel protective, as I felt protective against you then. As I still do. Our first training session went well. I instructed you three times the first week. The second week you maintained your own schedule, and then I gave some advice the third week, in order to ensure that you performed the movements without hurting yourself. It takes some time for your body to acquaintance itself to the correct movements. I am no longer able to recollect how it came that we began to hang around outside the gym. In some regards we were unlikely friends: A 5ft 5in university student with liberal middle class parents and a more than 6 ft tall personal trainer with a divorced working class mum. I enjoyed watching action films together with you, and I enjoyed when we just spent time talking. Years ago I spent considerable time drinking beer, but exercise have been increasingly more important for me by the years, so pub crawls are nowadays carefully timed exceptions, far and few between, in order to not disrupt my carefully planned meal schedules. The pub wasn't the best place to meet you. I like our talks. Your eyes have always been special: The mix of intelligence and mischief is nice, and their colour looks like it sparkles in a strange way. I mean 'strange' like fascinating. Not something bad. People of Kevin's sort irritates me. A confident man doesn't behave like that. But it embarras me to admit, that I was like them at early secondary school. If it hadn't been for the PE teacher, the scout patrol leader and Sister Jane, I could have turned out a rotten being. I abhorred (See? You taught me something: abhorred) most adults at secondary school. Abhorred. I will soon start speaking like you and your fancy friends (although I learned PT lingo at the courses Jack and Sam sent me to). Only adults who impressed me were worthy of my attention, and I wasn't easy to impress. The PE teacher was cool. He had competed in weightlifting when he was younger, and despite his intimidating looks, he wasn't an idiot like my considerably smaller dad. Dad had stopped hitting me when I began to play rugby, and the divorce happened shortly after. The scout patrol leader was stern if needed, but he was always fair. And Sister Jane was an unlikely person to feel comfortable with: What does a testosterone crazed teenaged bully have in common with a feminist nun with a Ph.D.? But she had a sense of humour and an ability to understand. I don't know how I shall express it... She understood. I don't know if the three of them had talked with each other about me, or if it just happened by coincidence, but after speaking with them I felt bad and confident at the same time. Bad for what I had done in the past, but confident of what I could do to change things in the future. I was able to apologise to most of the kids, and then on I became their guardian angel. When I saw bullying happen at school, I intervened, and I was good at it. When I met you, it was already ten - no twelve or thirteen - years since I reformed my life to the better. We had known each others for a year or so. Within your personal limits and conditions, your achievements at the gym were good, but not optimal. Since we were friends, I had begun to take an interest in your case which probably exceeded the professional. I felt very worried that night when you rang on my doorbell and stood with a very sad and very upset facial expression at my doorstep. 'What has happened, little buddy? Come inside! You look devastated.' You really looked devastated. All my protective instincts kicked in. I handed you a low-carb amino drink from my refrigerator, and grabbed one myself. We ended up in the sofa, your tiny frame leaning on one arm of the sofa, my bulk relaxing in the opposite end. 'What is it? Did you fail in any exam?' 'No. No, it is nothing like that.' You fell silent for a while. I gave you time, took a sip, and waited. 'I am so sorry to make you disappointed. Please, be not upset about this, but there is something I must tell you. You may find it terrible.' Your sad expression gave me a heartwrenching icy feel in my gut: 'But what is it? You can tell me. We are friends, right?' 'Oh, Brad. I'm so sorry, but I would be dishonest if I... If... If I didn't tell you that I am gay.' I was probably a very bad friend when I exploded in laughter, but I couldn't control my reaction. Several expressions rapidly came and went in your face: Sadness, surprise, resentment and bewilderment (Look! I can use more fancy words!) 'Little buddy. I wasn't sure if you are or not, but does that matter? I'm gay too. Haven't you understood?' I love that facial expression. You are so cute when you do that. My perplex little power hobbit. It was not the last of our very long and very late discussions about personal experiences, straight people's expectations and prejudices, and gay people's expectations and prejudices. Why many of these are wrong or misguided. About closet cases. About bears and the fetish crowd, and how they differ from the twinks. About muscle worship. Your were, and you still are, much better than me to express your feelings in speech, but I was at least, to a certain extent, more experienced than you: After a handful of rather disappointing dates with girls as a teenager, I had a few short encounters with gays my own age at that clubbing street. My muscles seemed to be popular among some, perhaps more so than me as a person. That disturbed me, although I was flattered too in a sense. I don't know. Anyhow, I had hanged around the blocks for a while longer than you, although it would be an exaggeration to call me experienced. It took us two days to admit to each other that we were very much into each other: Your small frame resting in my vein-covered arms, and your cute nose nuzzled at my meaty pecs (of those I was rather proud), our rods enthusiastically bouncing against the inside of our underpants, waiting for all clothes to be taken off. My little buddy. Although your hungry admiration of my muscles couldn't be hidden, now when the lid was off, you always took an interest in me, myself, who I am inside, and I am sorry for not telling you about how I was a bully when thirteen and fourteen. I was ashamed. I knew that Sam would consider it unprofessional to live with one of the gym members, but I was lucky: Jack, who owned The Steel Factory, was an old mate, and wanted me to work for him instead. As soon as I had changed job, we could move to our new flat. Your were delighted at my assistance with new training schedules, eating schedules and supplements, and I felt proud giving you that assistance, seeing how you transformed from your old, shy self with its awkward pose, into a toned young man with a considerably more confident expression. But you were definitely a hardgainer. When you first stepped inside Sam's Gym, you looked like a sea mammal (but without any fat): No visible pecs (just a flat chest) and no visible abs (despite the low level of subcutaneous fat). After one and a half year, your high metabolism had the good side with it, that your abs were visible. They were small, sure, but they were there, and nothing hid their well-defined existence. Your wiry pecs now showed that they existed, but not beyond that. Your exercise had changed your upper body form: Traps and shoulders were distinctly visible in a way they were not before, but you were still at the very slim end of the spectrum. Once my tiny little friend, you were now my little power hobbit. You were a typical ectomorph, but at least I tried to make your calorie intake higher than before, looking for new and fancy nutrition drinks. I have to admit that I had used gear before taking the job at Sam's. Jack and the Steel Factory crowd didn't mind, but Sam had a strict zero level policy when it came to such substances. Back at The Steel Factory, I began hearing rumours about that top secret experiment the Military in several countries had performed on marines: The guys came back from Service like brickhouses, but were forbidden to talk about it. It had obviously started years ago, and pirate copies of the needed equipment had began to circulate on the black market. It was rumoured, that some guards at global corporations had went through the treatment, and another rumour claimed that wrestling federations had made investments in such research, in order to make the business more eye-popping in the future. It wasn't easy to know what was conspiracy theories, what was pipe dreams, and what was true. Until the night I met Tvrtko. He had exercised at The Steel Factory for years, and always been a big guy, but now he was huge. No one dared to ask. Well, except me. He knew me rather well, and he told me. He had probably told me for half an hour, when we made the deal. 'No, there would be no problem with any crime syndicates. It could have been, if you wanted to buy their services in giving you The Treatment... Shady business, you know... But it is entirely different if you buy a second hand machine and give yourself The Treatment. No strings attached. Just buy it, store it where the authorities doesn't look, use it, and if you want to sell it to another user afterwards, it your private matter. It doesn't concern me. Am I clear? Am I perfectly clear?' * * * Your birthday occurred on a Saturday, and there was no need to take the day off. We had the entire weekend for ourself. When you came home Friday evening I gave you an envelope. 'It is better to open it tomorrow, isn't it?' 'No. Open it now.' ' "Do you want to be big?" What sort of question is that? You know that I want to be big. If a miracle could occur, it would be amazing to be tall like you, but I have to limit my goals to pack on some brawn.' You sighed. 'I eat and I eat, and nothing happens.' 'I wouldn't use the word nothing. Think how you looked when I started training you?' 'Yes, there have been some changes, but I am not like my favourite cuddling monster, am I?' Your arms around my waist. Your head against my chest. Your ear against my abs. I was beginning to feel horny. 'No. I mean it. If you really want to become big, that is your birthday present. To begin with, I have a new supplement to you.' 'Another one? Well. You know what you are doing. You've got the PT education.' You let me go when you felt the nice smell of food. I had tried to use the supplements I got from Tvrtko as creatively I could. The spaghetti on the table was a mix of wheat and soy, and therefore with a slightly higher protein content than ordinary pasta, but it was available in ordinary supermarkets. The pasta sauce contained ordinary food, such as mushrooms, spinache and a lot of spices to hide the mildly unpleasant taste. That taste came from the powder I had got from Tvrtko. I had also used it in the sauce which was mixed with the salat, and the pudding in the refrigerator was a mixture of Tvrtko's powder, a milky liquid of similar content, and lots of sugar, vanilla and egg to hide the taste. 'I have used a lot of new supplements in this meal', I remarked. 'You have? It tastes considerably better than some of the gainers you have been feeding me.' 'Ready for your surprise?' 'I thought the new supplements were the surprise, and a slightly underwhelming one.' Oh, how I like that spark in your eyes. 'No, there is more to come, if you really want.' 'I like surprises. You know it. What are you up to?' 'It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you.' Two hours later we sat in the car together, and I drove into an empty parking lot, close to a warehouse. It was dark. The light from the car reflected in the moist asphalt and the rainwater puddles. It drizzled when I unlocked the warehouse. I put a blind before your eyes, and you smiled, when I carefully led you through the warehouse. You seemed to have expected something else, when I removed the blind. 'What's that?' You observed The Machine. According to Tvrtko, it was smaller than the military equivalents, and it required the specimens to drink large amounts of nutrition drinks and nutrition powder a few hours before operation. Tvrtko had heard something about the Army using IV or something. Large gas cylinders were connected to The Machine on the back, and looked considerably newer than the rest of the equipments (Gas cylinders had to be renewed often, and were hard to find). 'It's a muscle enhancing machine. It's your birthday gift.' You looked slightly angry, when you began looking up in the ceiling: 'I expected a surprise party at an unusual location, but now it seems to be candid camera or something like that. Who's hiding and filming this right now.' 'I am perfectly honest. It is a muscle stimulating machine.' It hadn't crossed my mind, that it could be hard to convince you that The Machine was for real. It took a few minutes. I could see and hear how you slowly went from annoyed to surprised, from surprised to suspicious, and from suspicious to something less obvious. 'If you have gone through these lengths to make this possible, I will not disappoint you, but it is hard to believe. How could it possibly be true? Don't you think it feels a little unreal just now? And I am beginning to feel funny, warm or something.' 'It is probably the supplements I told you about. They begin to work now. If we opt out, we will probably gain some muscle and some fat anyhow, but far from the results I have been promised if we use that.' I nodded in the direction of the slightly intimidating presence in the room: The Machine. We stood silent for a few seconds. Then you gave me a sly expression: 'What if you tested the machine first?' It hadn't occurred to me that this was an option. It felt exciting to take part of the experiment myself (I had brought equipment to do that after you), but it was meant as a gift to you. I kept silent. I didn't know what to say. 'It is a double birthday present, if it really works: I have to watch you became even more brilliantly big, which is a really exciting thought, I can assure you, and then I can take part of this experiment myself, if it really works.' Doubt still emanated from you, but mixed with expectations that the impossible would be possible. We went through the operation of The Machine. 'It is obviously a dumbed down pirate copy: You change what you wish to achieve at this panel, and increase power levels at this panel, put the gas on with this control, and this must be a speaker with microphone, so that we can talk. It sounds reasonably simple?' I unpacked the training bags: Towels and soap (The warehose had a shower once meant to be used by workers), tracksuits in large sizes (I didn't know exactly how much The Treatment would affect us) and then two pairs of odd things. I held the posing trunks made of leather before you. You took it in with humour: 'Any new ideas how to kink this up? That's something new!' 'Actually, there is a reason for them. According to Tvrtko, cotton fabrics take fire and synthetic fibres melt inside The Machine. He tested, by putting some piece of clothing inside, since he wanted to avoid 'to look gay', as he expressed it. It seemed to have passed him by that you and I live together.' 'Cotton take fire? And synthetics melt? And we are to believe that human beings are just fine, and don't become radioactive or something else?' We discussed shortly, decided to do it anyway, changed clothes, and prepared for the use of The Machine. I began to feel hot, despite the fact that I was naked. It was probably the supplements that kicked in. The inside of The Machine was spacious enough for four or five persons at least. The walls were covered with some sort of glass lenses or something. Strange equiment hang in the ceiling, but since I am not an engineer, I could not guess at their functions. 'This gives the word closet case a new meaning.', you joked from the outside. The speakers worked. 'Can you hear me?' 'Yes, fine, can you hear me?' 'Yes, perfectly. Good that some things on this wreck works.' The inside smelled rather much like the smell I knew from tanning salons. I could sense a vague hint of smoke, perhaps from Tvrtko's mishap with the cotton pants, but there was also a whiff of cleaning solution. I felt very warm. The posing trunks emitted a whiff of leather. I wasn't normally into leather, but it felt naughty to stand there in the buff, excepting just this small equipment of clothing. Black. Glossy. A hissing sound. 'I opened the gas transmission. Everything alright?' 'I am able to breathe as usual. I tell you if I begin to feel funny.' It felt like ordinary air. Perhaps slighly more... chemical. I took a deep breath. And another one. 'No, nothin special yet. Don't worry.' 'I put the powerfield on now, whatever it is. Are you really sure it is safe?' 'How many times do I have to tell you, taht Tvrtko used it months ago, and haven't suffered any... Ungh!' The powerfield hit me, but in a good way. God! What was that? It felt... Oh! 'Oh, it feels good, little buddy. Everything alright outside?' 'I think so. It looks like you are glowing. It's pretty cool. Just tell me if...' Unh! It felt like my entire body was buzzing. Buzzing of something. Buzzing pleasantly. Buzzing... o my God! 'It's good! It's so... mmmm. You will like it when you... oh. Um!' 'It works, Brad! You are growing! You are actually growing! You look awesome!' I had been proud of my pecs for years, but now they were trembling, while they grew larger. Unlike you, the abs had always been a problem spot for me: They existed, alright, and I had been able to feel their hard presence under my belly fat, and even sense a visual hint of them now and then, but the remaining fat had always hid them from sight. Now, the fat melted away, under the pressure of my scientifically heightened metabolism and the strange God-knows-what radiation that was released into The Machine. The Treatment had begun to race through my body. 'Unngh, Brad. You look incredible! You should be able to watch yourself! I can't take it! It is too alluring! I change the settings, yes changing the settings like this, and this.' 'What are you doing? Ummm. Uh. Safety... ummm, oh! Yes!' 'My cuddling monster is becoming a super cuddling monster. Oh! Look at you! Look at that awesomeness! Did I tell you that these posing trunks actually are beginning to feel comfortable?' Your voice came from afar. My transformation experience was beginning to be overwhelming. I didn't know what settings you may have changed, and what safety protocols you could have disregarded, but I wasn't able to object, since the feeling was so intense: The feeling of growth. My shoulders was becoming volley balls or bowling balls. My biceps swelled into monstrous globes of hot, steel hard flesh, and my triceps turned into corded steel wires. You said something, but I couldn't hear exactly what, since the humming sound from the machine, the hissing gas, the sound of my own pulse in my ears - like a sledge hammer - and the raw feeling of growth all claimed my attention. My thighs became pillars of might. My calves exploded into rugby balls. Rugby balls of granite. My traps, my titanium traps... I felt dizzy, but not in a bad way. My back could now carry the entire world, or so it felt. I dont know how long time had lapsed, when I felt your hand against my abs. One part of my brain probably had a vague idea about us taking turns in the machine, but in my enraptured state I didn't care. You were here, with me, inside The Machine and shared my experience of The Treatment, just as I shared yours. My rod pulsated against the inside of my posing trunks. I could hear you roar, as you shared the effects. Effects of the gas. Of the settings. New settings. What we wish to achieve? Power levels? Of the... POWER LEVELS! It was even better than before. Whatever you had done, The Machine now worked on an entirely new level. I held you, standing behind you, as many times before. My little buddy in front of me. I could nuzzle my nose in your hair. It was just a few months since you changed that old fashionable haircut into a fierce buzzcut. The buzzcut suits you. You look much more masculine in the buzzcut. I let my hands - my growing hands? - rest over your pecs. It was obvious that you were growing just like me, perhaps even more so, since your beginner level was... different. What a pair of amazing pecs you had got! And they were still growing! Is my power hobbit turning into a little Lesukov clone, eh? You shivered. I shivered. And then I felt it: You were growing in every way. You were growing taller. You roared. I nuzzled your buzzcut. My rod had pulsated against your back not so long time ago, but now it pulsated against the hollow in your lower spine, and you were still growing. I had to change the angle I nuzzled your buzzcut. Taller. Definitely taller. My little buddy becoming big. Mmmm. Big. I felt bigger, but you grew faster than me. I liked how you grew faster than me. Birthday present. Power. Mmmm. My big hands explored your abs. They had been defined before. Now they had turned into six cannon-balls of uncrushable might. I shivered again. You groaned. Or moaned. I explored your traps. Massaged them while the new settings executed their work on us. So hard and full. Amazing. Your were now beyond what I was when I entered The Machine, and you were approaching what I was becoming. Still becoming. Both of us. Together. Am I not thinking clearly? Oh, it's so good. So good! The new veins running on your arms. Oh! I shivered. You shivered together with me. I could feel the smell of sweat. Sweat rich of testosterone. And the smell of leather. Warm leather. My big hands explored your hard washboard abs again, and then continued further south. You shivered. I could feel your rod bouncing and pulsating on the inside of the trunks. It felt larger than before. Than ever before. You moaned. You shivered. Your leather trunks ripped apart, unable to resist your tool, giving my unprepared hand a lash. Your body against mine. Hot in every sense. My rod at the height of your diamond hard bum. You shivered. New settings. Of what we want to achieve. And power levels. Power. Levels. It felt so... so... Yes it was filling me. And it was filling you. The Power. All these power bolts! Making our metabolisms to packing on more brawn. More! Power emissions into us. Into our brawn. Bolts. Of masculinity. No, hyper-masculinity! Hitting. Surging. Loading. Beyond physicality. Becoming power beings. Of power muscles. Your back! Now with ridges. Valleys. Hard. Against my chest. My mind-blowing pecs. What are you doing? Turning. Around? Mmmm. What. Are. You. Doing? Trunks. Gone? When? Oh you little... Oh. Um. My big little. Unnngh! Now? During... Treatment? My big little... Oh! Enormous little buddy between my legs. You...kidding? Nnngh. Your titanic traps. My Quads. My gigantic little buddy. Protect. Growing. Power levels. Invincible! Yes! YES! YES! BEYOND ALL REASON! BEYOND ALL
  17. Part One "Yeah, come on, coach, you've got this in the bag!" James was not the only one cheering at the small, but powerfully built men on stage in the over 60's class of his local bodybuilding contest, but he was certainly the loudest, and with good reason. His coach, Larry, was almost certain to win his fifth regional title in as many years and as he finished off his routine with a most muscular that defied his size, he smiled, bowed to the audience and strode off back stage where his student picked him up and grunted "You may only be ten stone, but this is how much I want to congratulate you!" As he placed Larry on the ground a few seconds later, Larry just smiled and said "Remember, this time last year you couldn't even pick me up, but I thank you. It's nice to get some positive feedback from a student" and with that they went off to prepare Larry for the presentation. Larry and James really couldn't have been more different if they tried. Larry was 69 years old, had been training since his 14th birthday and although only standing 5ft 2 tall and weighing 138lbs, his 38½ inch chest, 33½ inch waist, 13 inch biceps, 21 inch quads and 14½ inch calves looked hewn from granite. James, on the other hand, was not only ten inches taller, but worlds apart. He weighed 220lbs, but with a 46 inch chest, 45 in waist, 13 inch biceps, 23 inch quads and 14½ inch calves, it was obvious that he had a long way to go to match his coach, but that did not dampen his enthusiasm for his coach and what he lacked in muscle, he more than made up for in cleverness. Indeed, it was his idea to create a social media account for his coach's bodybuilding exploits, accounts which were regularly shared by the stars of bodybuilding although James made quite sure that everyone realised that Larry's muscle development was following the "PHS method" of training which Larry explained as the "Porthos, Hercules and Samson" method of training until he couldn't do anymore and without any drugs whatsoever. That evening as the two drove home, James nursing the trophy like a baby, he looked at it and said "Larry, did you really mean what you said last year when I joined your gym. That in the space of three years I could win one of these myself!" Larry chuckled "Of course I did, I mean look at your progress. Your bench, squat and deadlift have increased exponentially from nothing to 104lbs, 94lbs and 84lbs respectively, you can pick me up for at least thirty seconds when you couldn't managed it before, and might I note that you've become more confident as well" and with that smiled at him. "Yes" smiled James, "my naked posing sessions after we train" and with that added, "I can't help myself, I say. After I train I feel, well, like, like the biggest and strongest man in the world, I want to rip off my posing suit and flex, flex, flex" "Tell you what then" smiled Larry, "special treat this evening. Before I tuck into my post contest ice cream, we'll pose down together, naked, and you can show me what poses I should do for my next guest posing session next weekend, Deal?" "Deal!" nodded James, frantically.
  18. Hey guys! Here's the first chapter of a custom story I'm working on for a guy with lots of awesome ideas. It's something a bit different than what I normally do so hope you enjoy! Things are going to get crazy in the coming chapters... Originally posted on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/quarantined-chap-20683663 Day 1 Devon yawned. Almost midnight and he hadn’t accomplished anything other than watching the news all night. It wasn’t even as if anything interesting was going on, he just wanted something on and then news was consistent enough where he didn’t feel the need to change the channel every five minutes. He took a long sip of beer. It was his third bottle, but he didn’t even feel a buzz. This depiction of Devon might lead someone to think he was depressed, or loney, but really he was just plain bored. His boyfriend was deployed overseas and Devon was out of money, so pizza, beer, and news at home was the most fun he was probably going to have all weekend. From the corner of his eye he saw his phone’s screen light up. A little bubble appeared that just said Scott, his boyfriend of three and a half years. Devon couldn’t help but smile a little. He unlocked the phone and the message from his boyfriend in a far away place appeared. His smile widened. Hey babe. Some of the men down here in Madagascar have gotten sick. Army’s not saying what it is. Don’t think they now. They’re bringing us home early just in case. Can you pick me up from the airport tomorrow at 9? Devon did a silent fist bump to the air, grinning ear to ear. YES! He wrote back, unable to hide his excitment. Scott replied with a heart and kissing emoji and ‘goodnight, see you soon.’ Devon clutched his phone to his chest and breathed in a deep satisfying breath. Tomorrow he would be reunited with the love of his life. Day 2 “Scott!” Devon spotted his big man in uniform and trotted over to him. “Hey Dev,” Scott replied quietly before giving his boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek. “Well I hope you can give me more than that, c’mon big guy give me a real cass” Devon said with a touch more sass than he intended. Scott smirked at him, but his eyes remained serious. Dark rings around them betrayed long sleepless nights overseas. “Later. You’re parked outside?” “Yeah, in the usual spot.” Devon went to pick up his boyfriend’s oversized luggage, but his struggle against the unusual weight of the bag was evident and Scott plucked it out of his grip easily. Devon couldn’t help notice thick muscle bulging against his boyfriend’s army uniform. Scott was always big, but was he always that big?! “Here, let me,” he grunted in a tone a little less friendly than Devon would’ve liked. The couple walked to the car in relative silence. Devons initial questions were deflected so he stopped asking assuming that his partner was over-exhausted by his deployment and the flight home. When they were both in the car and miles away from the airport Devon spoke up. “You’re awfully quiet.” He glanced sideways at his military man looking for a reaction and finding none. “Everything okay.” “Fine.” Devon shrugged, letting only a hint of irritation cross his face. He scowled at the road for a beat until an idea crossed his mind. He sharply turned and exited off the highway. The big army man startled in his seat. “What the fuck. Where are you going?” “C’mon, you must be hungry. We’re going to that diner on Main.” “I’m not hungry, let’s just go home!” Devon looked sideways at his boyfriend with suspicion. Was that panic he detected in his baritone voice. Scott was usually the calm and collected one of the duo, it was unusual to see him riled up. “Well I am. Come on, it’ll be nice.” He turned into the Dixie Cow Diner’s parking lot and put the car into park. Before Scott could utter another objection Devon was out of the car and on his way into the small but busy restaurant. With a nervous sigh Scott followed. “Table for two please,” Devon declared cheerfully to a frazzled-lookking waitress. “Sure thing love.” She glanced up to see a Scott creep in gingerly. “Military eats free,” she droned before adding “thanks for your service.” She picked up two menus and brought the couple to a window seat. “How’s this hun?” “Great, thank you.” Devon took a seat and started thumbing through the menu. He glanced up to see Scott standing awkwardly, beads of sweat forming on the sides of his face. “Come on you lug, take a seat.” Scott slid himself into the booth, but didn’t speak. “Jeeze, it’s not that hot in here, you sure you’re feeling okay?” Devon asked the big man. This finally seemed to grab his attention and he looked across the table with pleading eyes. “No!” Scott declared before hushing his voice to a whisper. “No, everything is not okay.” Before Devon could ask what the hell his boyfriend meant, he told him. “I’m not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be back in Madagascar still in Quarantine, with the rest of my unit.” Devon blinked at the big man, unsure of how to process what he just heard. He simply said “is that why you wouldn’t kiss me?” “Yes.” “Why? What is it? Is it contagious? Do you have it?!” “I don’t know.” Scott buried his face into his hands and spoke through his fingers. “I don’t think I have it. I don’t have any of the effects….” He glanced up at Devon. “That’s how I got out. I found a uniform from another unit, one that didn’t do that expedition. And I looked healthy so…. I got out.” Devon let out a breathy sigh and sat back somewhat relieved. “Well then we have nothing to worry about.” He winked and let a small smile reassure his boyfriend. But neither man was reassured. “What can I get you boys?” The waitress appeared with notepad in hand. “I’ll have the eggs benny with a coffee please,” Devon handed his menu to the waitress and sat back. “All right, all right. Good choice. And for you?” She looked at Scott. “I’ll have the same,” he mumbled. “Great! I’ll just grab that menu from you.” She reached in front of scott and lifted the menu off the sticky table sending a wave of thick perfume into the big man’s face. HIs nose twitched and his eyes bulged. Before he could stop himself or deflect it he sneezed on the waitresses outstretched hand and menu. “Excuse me,” Scott muttered to her sheepishly. “Sorry about that.” She gave him a strained smile and turned on her heel. The rest of their stay proceeded uneventfully. They chewed their food silently. Making small talk here and there. Devon didn’t want to push his boyfriend on the elephant in the room quite yet, he’d save that for home. He did begin to worry though as he noticed subtle changes in his boyfriend. He was breathing heavier than usual and sweating like he had just finished a workout. Also-and Devon almost refused to admit this to himself as it was surely impossible-he thought Scott had gotten even bigger since sitting down in the booth across from him. His muscles pushed at the camo fabric of his uniform. The whole sight made Devon chew his lip with lust as he thought of tearing that uniform off his beefy boyfriend and seeing those muscles for himself. On their way home Devon decided he couldn’t wait any longer to bring up what hed’ noticed in the restaurant. “Scott. Have you noticed anything… Different? Like with your body… Getting bigger maybe?” Scott visibly stiffened. “What do you mean?” Devon registered the panic in his boyfriend’s voice again and saw him pulling at his collar as if to loosen it. “I don’t think I’m bigger. If anything I lost weight.” Devon drove in silence. He let the subject drop but mulled over it ferociously in his head. Scott was lying! He could always tell, and this time it was more obvious than ever. “Here we are big guy.” Devon announced as he swung into their driveway. He couldn’t help but notice Scott cringe at the last two words. He turned the key and silenced the engine. “Welcome home!” He turned to face his boyfriend and his smile dropped. “Scott??” Scott was matted in sweat and panting like an animal. Thick corded veins ran up his neck which was noticeably thicker. Devon mistakenly thought it might be inflamed and began to panic. “Jesus, you don’t look too good. Fuck. Maybe you do have that thing. You get into the house and I’ll call a doctor.” “No!” Scott panted, turning groggily to his boyfriend. “No doctor.” “But!” Devon began to protest when Scott grabbed his arm firmly. “No.” They stared into each other’s eyes. Devon’s were clear and exuding concerning. Scott’s were unfocused, bloodshot, and feral looking. Devon shook his head, not believing he was giving in. “Fine, but if you get any worse I’m taking you in.” Scott accepted this and clambered out of the car. “I nap,” was all he said before heading into the house, leaving Devon to bring in his bags. “Fair enough” the small man grunted to himself as he slung heavy camo-printed bags onto his shoulders. Upstairs Scott stared at his reflection in their bedroom mirror. His thoughts came slow and muddled. He knew he was infected. Why had he sneezed on the waitresses hand? He knew it was on purpose. He felt a strange desire deep inside him to spread the infection. He tried to suppress it, which only made it stronger. A crooked smile appeared on his face. He looked down at his body. His previously athletic build was replaced with a hard, vascular, bodybuilder’s build. His muscles bulged obscenely, dusted with a thick coat of hair. Barely contained in his standard issue military briefs his mutated cock strained to break free. Fattened to monstrous proportions by the infection it begged to release the infection into Scott’s unwitting boyfriend. “No,” Scott growled under his breath. He tried to suppress the urge… The urge to make his mate like him. He sat on the bed for a second before swinging his giant muscled feet onto and then into the covers. Devon slammed the trunk hatch down and locked the car. “There. Done.” He said to himself, satisfied. He looked up at the bedroom window he shared with Scott with a furrowed brow. “Better check on the big lug,” he thought to himself before making his way back into the house. Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed and want to be notified when I post future chapters or other stories please consider supporting my work on Patreon! It would mean the world to this broke-ass bodybuilder with a penchant for writing muscle growth stories ? ---> https://www.patreon.com/MuscleNexus <---
  19. Der Campingausflug Kapitel 1: Fynn saß auf der hintersten Bank des Minibusses und folgte träge jeder noch so kleinen Kurve mit seinem Körper. Draußen sah er die von einzelnen Hügeln gesprenkelte Landschaft, die kargen Bäume, die allmählich an Laub verloren und dafür an Nadeln gewannen. Als sie von zuhause aus aufgebrochen waren, hatte er nicht geglaubt, dass die Fahrt so ermüdend und anstrengend werden würde. Mittlerweile schmerzte ihm der Hintern, war vermutlich seit der letzten Talüberfahrt eingeschlafen, seine Augen waren trocken von der kalten Luft, die die Klimaanlage ihm ins Gesicht blies und allmählich verspürte er einen unangenehmen Druck auf der Blase. Ich hätte doch gehen sollen, schmollte er innerlich, und schaute aus dem matten Wagenfenster. Vor gut einer halben Stunde hatten sie am Fichtenplatz Halt gemacht, um neben dem Tank auch ihre eigenen Kraftreserven aufzufüllen. Während Aaron und Caleb die Chance ergriffen hatten, um sich nochmal auf dem Klo zu erleichtern, hatte Fynn lediglich einige Runde an der frischen Luft gedreht. Er war zusammen mit Leif an den Autos und Lastern vorbeigeschlichen, hatte kurz einige mürrische Blicke mit einem echt mies gelaunten Fahrer ausgetauscht, um sich und seinem Freund anschließend einen Müsliriegel mit getrockneten Kirschen zu kaufen. Auf die Frage seines Vaters hin, ob er nicht auch nochmal auf die Toilette wolle hatte er bloß mit einem Schulterzucken geantwortet. „Ich bin schon groß und kann meine Blase gut unter Kontrolle halten“, hatte er gesagt. Groß mag ich sein. Groß und selten dämlich. Fynn wälzte sich in seinem Sitzplatz umher und verschränkte die Arme vor der Brust. Der Wagen hüpfte über die losen Holzleisten einer alten Brücke, die einen sprudelnden Bach überquerte, und er stieß sich den Kopf, wobei er sich auf die eigene Zunge biss. „Verdammt nochmal“, fluchte er. Der Geschmack von Eisen lag ihm im Mund. „Ah ah ah“, ermahnte ihn sein Vater, den Blick stets auf die holprige Straße vor sich gerichtet. „Was habe ich dir übers Fluchen beigebracht, Mr. Hopps?“ Aaron und Caleb stimmten mit ein. „Genau“, kicherten sie. „Das gehört sich aber nicht für solch einen frommen Jungen.“ Die beiden selbsternannten Scherzkekse schauten über die Rückenlehne und warteten wohl darauf, dass er vor Scharm rot anlief. Die Genugtuung gebe ich ihnen ganz gewiss nicht. Stattdessen ging er in die Offensive. „Caleb, warum zeigst du meinem Vater nicht diese tolle Zeitschriftensammlung, die du mitgebracht hast. Du weißt schon, die mit den nackten…“ Eine Wasserflasche flog an seinem Kopf vorbei und traf den schnarchenden Leif genau auf die Nasen. Der Junge schrie auf, stieß sich den Kopf an der Rückenlehne seines Vordernachbars und merkte wohl, wie ihm Tränen ins Gesicht stiegen. Irritiert hielt er sich die Nase und suchte Antworten bei Fynn. „Alles gut“, flüsterte er. „War nur der Wurfversuch des schlechtesten Pitchers, den ich je gesehen habe.“ „Bitte?“ Caleb stieg die Röte ins Gesicht. Du hast mich schon verstanden. Seitdem letzten Monat hatte Caleb angefangen, in einem professionellen Baseballclub mitzuspielen. Zugegeben, er hatte sich als Batter beworben und war somit wesentlich effektiver im Umgang mit dem Schläger. Dennoch hielt er auch einiges von seinen Wurfkünsten, vor allem von seinem angedrehten Caleb-Spezial. „Du darfst es ihm nicht verübeln.“ Aaron legte Caleb die Hand auf die Schulter. „Die Flasche war schon echt beschissen geworfen. Du hast Leif mitten auf die Nase getroffen. Sieh, er blutet sogar.“ „Brauchst du ein Taschentuch?“ Fynn kramte bereits in dem Rucksack, den er provisorisch zwischen den Beinen fixiert hatte, aber Leif schüttelte den Kopf. „Alles gut“, entgegnete er durch zugekniffene Nase. „Ich lasse es einfach ausbluten.“ Er lächelte. Typisch. Verpass ihm nen Schlag auf die Nase und er bedankt sich eher bei dir, als dass er zurückschlägt. Der „gutmütige Leif“ wurde er in ihrer Klasse genannt. Leif der Friedliche, Pazifisten-Leif oder sogar Gandhi. Ihre Mitschüler hatten sich allerlei Namen für sie ausgedacht und einige hatten sie sogar davon übernommen: Caleb war der Sportkoster, weil es keinen Sport gab, den er noch nicht probiert hatte; Aaron nannten sie den Zahlenverschlinger wegen seiner mathematischen Begabung dafür in jeder Aufgabe eine Zahl zu vergessen und trotzdem zum richtigen Ergebnis zu kommen; Leif nannten sie den Gutmütigen und Fynn hatte den Titel Buffetzerstörer verliehen bekommen, weil er einst während des der Abschiedsfeier ihres ehemaligen Schulterleiters gestürzt und das halbe Buffet abgeräumt hatte. Gut, dass er die Schule nach diesem Vorfall verlassen hat. Inzwischen hatten sie die Grenzen des Waldes überschritten. Kiefern, die wie Speere zum Himmel aufragten, umsäumten die schmale Fahrbahn und schufen einen natürlichen Zaun. Sorgfältig verarbeiteter Pflaster wich erdigem und rauem Boden. Die verschlissene Federung des Wagens ließ sie jeden erdenklichen Stein und jede Vertiefung spüren. Fynn meinte, eine Herde Rehe im tiefen Dickicht gesehen zu haben und presste sein Gesicht daraufhin gegen die Fensterscheibe. Waren dort tatsächlich Rehe gewesen, hatte der Motor sie verscheucht. Ein Bach plätscherte zwischen einer alten Kiefer und einem erdigen Felsbrocken hindurch und verschwand hinter einem moosbewachsenen Hang. „Glaubst du, wir werden Hirsche sehen?“ Leif rückte auf, bis sich ihre Beine berührte und ihre Schultern streiften. „Wenn wir Glück haben, sehen wir sogar ne ganze Herde“, entgegnete Fynn. Er fühlte Noahs warmen Atem in seinem Nacken und näherte sich ihm heimlich, indem er die Hand auf das Bein legte. „Und wenn wir Pech haben?“ „Dann finden uns die Wölfe.“ Caleb stieß ein entsetzliches Jaulen aus und Aaron schloss sich dem Schauspiel an. „Zwei Idioten wie für einander geschaffen“, grinste Leif und entfernte sich wieder von Fynn. Im Zelt werde ich über ihn herfallen. Im Auto konnte er das nicht. Nicht, solange sein Vater mit seiner Frömmigkeit noch anwesend war. Ein guter Christ sollte seine Gelüste unter Kontrolle halten, mahnte er stets. Außerdem würde er seine Beziehung mit Leif niemals gutheißen. Ganz anders da seine Mutter. Sie hatte die beiden bereits durchschaut, da waren sie noch gemeinsam zur Realschule gegangen. Es waren diese Blicke, die sie sich gegenseitig zugeworfen hatten, während Fynns vierzehnten Geburtstag, hatte er später erfahren. Anfangs hatten Fynn und Leif noch Angst und Bange gehabt, doch schon bald stellte sich heraus, dass Fynns Mutter sie Voll und Ganz unterstützte. Fast jedes zweite Wochenende scheuchte sie seinen Vater durch irgendwelche Parks, Museen oder Einkaufscentren, sodass sie wenigstens ein paar Stunden alleine hatten. Und welche Stunden das waren. Sein Vater lenkte den Wagen tiefer in den Wald hinein. Sie passierte ein rustikales Schild, dessen Anstrich die Sonne bereits ausgeblichen hatte. Vor ihnen lag der Westliche Caniwald, ein tiefes Geflecht aus meterhohen Kiefern, deren Nadeln in der Mittagssonne golden glänzten; ein Ort voller verborgener Wasserbuchten und bergischen Aufstiegen, die sie dicht unter die Wolken führen würden sowie finsteren Minenschächte und rustikalen Berghütten. Zumindest wenn man all diesen Geschichten glauben durfte. Der Wagen hielt. „Was machst du?“, fragte Fynn und lehnte sich nach vorne. „Bis zur Lichtung ist es noch ein gutes Stück.“ „Dann werdet ihr den Rest laufen müssen.“ Sein Vater deutete auf einen umgestürzten Baumstamm. Wohl ein Opfer des Sturmes vergangener Woche. „Ein Glück, dass ihr junge und kräftige Beine habt.“ Er drehte den Schlüssel herum und erstickte somit den Motor. Draußen schlug Fynn zuerst die unbändige Hitze ins Gesicht. Trotz der Schatten, die die hohen Bäume auf den schmalen Waldweg warfen, hatte die Sonne die Luft gnadenlos aufgeheizt. Er griff an die Wagentür und verbrannte sich dabei fast die Finger. „Ver…“ Ein Fluch wäre beinahe über seinen Lippen gewandert, aber er konnte sich noch einmal zurückhalten. Nicht vor deinem Vater, maßregelte er sich und nutzte die Unterseite seines Shirts zum Schutz, um den Kofferraum zu öffnen. Darin fand er vier große Rucksäcke, jeder mindestens halb so groß wie sie selbst und auch halb so schwer. Jeder von ihnen bekam einen und dazu noch einen Schlafsack und eine Isomatte, die man provisorisch am Rucksack befestigt hatte. Caleb stemmte das Gepäck wie ein Weltmeister. Aaron hatte anfangs ein wenig Probleme und Fynn selbst wäre beim Anlegen fast nach hinten umgefallen. Nach einer Weile hatte er sich allerdings an das neue Gewicht gewöhnt. Der Sport letzten Winter machte sich endlich bemerkbar. Es war Leif um den er sich sorgte. Der fast achtzehnjährige Teenager hielt nicht viel vom Krafttraining und verbrachte seine Freizeit meist auf Spaziergängen oder gemütlichen Wanderungen. Die mangelnde Sportbegeisterung wurde ihm nun zum Verhängnis. „Alles gut“, versicherte er, das Gesicht rot angelaufen und die Knie zittrig wie Pudding, als Fynn ihm näherkam. „Nein, wirklich. Ich schaff das.“ Und in zehn Minuten darf ich dich dann vom Boden abkratzen, wenn dich der Rucksack unter seinem Gewicht begraben hat. „Habt ihr auch wirklich alles dabei?“ Sein Vater tupfte sich mit einem Tuch den Schweiß von der Stirn. „Wenn ich nicht dran gedacht habe, hat es Mum. Du kennst sie.“ Vermutlich trägt sie die Schuld für das schwere Reisegepäck. „Was ist mit den Zelten? „Ein Camping-Ausflug ohne Zelte wäre wohl witzlos, findest du nicht?“ „Die Konserven?“ „Im Notfall gehen wir Jagen oder Angeln. Denk dran. Vor dir steht Baltimores bester Pfadfinder.“ „Und das Kreuz?“ „Glaubst du wirklich, dass unser Ausflug von Dämonen heimgesucht wird?“ „Mr. Hopps!“ „Trage es stets bei mir.“ Fynn fischte ein silbernes Kreuz aus dem Kragen seines Shirts und zeigte es seinem Vater zur Beruhigung. „Gut. Sollte was sein…“ „…finden wir dich und Mutter in der Herberge keine Stunde von hier entfernt. Papa, wir sind keine Kinder mehr. Das wird schon.“ Fynn schloss seinen Vater ein letztes Mal in die Arme und überhörte die überaus erwachsenen Zurufe im Hintergrund. „Wenn ihr so viel Gefallen an einer väterlichen Umarmung findet, warum kommt ihr dann nicht hierher und bedankt euch auch mal bei meinem Vater? Immerhin hat er euch den ganzen Weg hierhergefahren!“ Seine Freunde hörte ihn nicht länger. Caleb war längst über den morschen Baumstamm geklettert und hatte die anderen drei weit hinter sich gelassen, während Aaron gerade drumherum schlich und Leif brav wartete. „Das ist okay“, entgegnete Fynns Vater und löste die Umarmung. „Mögen sie mir nicht danken, so wird der Herr diese gute Tat erkennen.“ Er faltete die Hände vor der Brust und schloss die Augen. Das Zeichen für Fynn, um sich davon zu machen. Es dauerte eine Weile, bis sie den Minibus hinter sich gelassen hatten und sein Vater aus ihrem Sichtfeld verschwunden war. Der Weg durch den Wald führte sie über einen schmalen Pfad, der lediglich für Wanderer ausgelegt war und die vergangenen Monate kaum genutzt wurde. Die Wurzeln sturer Bäumen schlugen bereits über den Gehweg hinaus und bildeten verborgen unter getrocknetem Laub gefährliche Stolperfallen. Es war als wäre der Wald einst vor den Menschen zurückgewichen und würde sich ganz leise und heimlich zurückholen, was damals ihm gehörte. Obwohl seine Freunde zielbewusst vorausliefen, Leif ihm allerdings stets dicht auf den Versen, war es Fynn, der sie anführte. Als er seinem Vater gesagt hatte, er sei der beste Pfadfinder gewesen, hatte er nicht gelogen. Nein, ein frommer Christ tat so was nicht. Tatsächlich hatte Fynn die Wahrheit gesagt. Schon damals hatte er den einen oder anderen Ausflug in diese Wälder unternommen und hatte vom Käferabzeichen bis zum Lagerfeuerabzeichen alles ausprobiert. Aus diesem Grund kannte er auch einen wunderbaren Campingplatz, ganz in der Nähe eines Flusses. Ein wenig abgelegener und gut versteckt hinter einer Wand aus dichtem Gestrüpp und garstigen Dornen kannte er sogar einen kleinen Tümpel, der sein glasklares Wasser direkt aus einer Quelle weiter oben in den Bergen bezog. „Hey, Pfadfinderass, wie weit ist denn noch, bis zur magischen Lichtung?“ Caleb lief ein wenig langsamer, damit sie aufschließen konnten. Der Sportkoster stemmte das Gewicht mit Bravour und hüpfte sogar über einen kleinen Graben, durch den ein winziges Rinnsal Wasser floss. Fynn deutete auf ein Buschwerk, in welcher der Pfad scheinbar verschwand. „Der Platz sollte glatt hinter dieser Wand aus Blättern sein.“ Seine Erinnerungen ließen ihn nicht im Stich. Auf der anderen Seite des Gebüschs entfaltete sich eine Landschaft wie er sie als Kind stets genossen hatte. Vor ihnen lag eine Lichtung, eben und flach. Die Sonne hatte das Gras weiträumig ausgetrocknet, doch dicht am Flussbett gewann es seine saftig grüne Farbe zurück und ließ sogar Blumen spießen. Inmitten der Lichtung entdeckte er einen großen Holzpfahl. Noch erkannte er die Farbe und den bunten Schriftzug darauf. Die Zeit hatte diesem Pfahl ordentlich zugesetzt, hatte ihn abstumpfen und bleich werden lassen, doch diese Platz markierte sein altes Pfadfindercamp. Verloren in alten Kindheitserinnerungen ließ er die Hand über das raue Holz wandern und fluchte, als er sich einen Splitter einfing. Dann traf sein Blick einen alten Dornenbusch und sofort wurde er von kindlicher Vorfreude übermannt. Der massive Rucksack glitt von seinem Rücken. „Komm, Leif“, rief er und drängte seinen Freund zur Eile. „Wohin?“, fragte Leif sichtlich irritiert. Dennoch gehorchte er und befreite sich von der schweren Last. Platsch. Der Rucksack landete im Dreck und wirbelte trockene Erde auf. „Was soll das bitte werden, wenn das fertig ist?“ Caleb schenkte den beiden einen kritischen Blick. „Sollten wir nicht zuerst die Zelte aufbauen?“ „Kümmert ihr euch darum“, drängte Fynn und zehrte Leif tiefer in das Dornengestrüpp. Er wusste genau, wo er hintreten musste, um sich nicht zu verletzen. „Das ist nicht fair!“, grummelte Aaron. „Wieso sollen wir die ganze Arbeit machen?“ Fynn musste sich eine Ausrede einfallen lassen. „Müsst ihr nicht“, entgegnete er kurzerhand. „Wir sammeln Feuerholz für ein Lagerfeuer!“ Zwanzig Schritte gerade aus, am morschen Baumstamm zehn Schritte rechts, der erdigen Wand bis zu einem Graben folgen und dann noch fünf Schritte vorwärts. „Vorsicht“, sprach er und hielt Leif einen Ast aus dem Gesicht. „Hier müssen wir kriechen. Ja, genau dort. Zwischen den Zweigen durch, aber zieh deinen Kopf ein.“ „Warum dieser spontane Ausflug?“, fragte Leif. Er kam dicht hinter ihm hervorgekrochen, hatte die Knie Wund vom ganzen Kriechen. „Damit ich dir das hier zeigen kann.“ Fynn führte seinen Freund an den Rand eines Tümpels. Das Sonnenlicht spiegelte sich auf der Oberfläche und verlieh dem Wasser einen goldenen Glanz. Über einen dicht bewachsenen Hang plätscherte ein Wasserfall, kaum vier Meter hoch und zwei Meter breit, herab und schlug winzige Wellen, die sich bis zum Ufer ausbreiteten und die Wassergräser zum Tanzen brachten. Eine goldene Königslibelle ließ sich auf dem Schilf nieder und schaukelte im warmen Sommerwind auf und ab. „Woher?“ Leif blieben die Worte im Halse stecken. Vermutlich war er den Tränen nahe. Der fährt voll auf sowas. „Hab ihn gefunden, als ich noch ein kleiner Junge war“, erklärte Fynn und stülpte das Shirt über den Kopf. „Bin vorm dicken Tom und seinen Diabetisjüngern davongelaufen und bin dabei zufällig auf diesen Ort gestoßen.“ Die kurze Hose und seine Sandalen folgten, sodass er bis auf seine Boxershorts nichts mehr trug. Leif errötete. „Was tust du da?“, fragte er und schaute an ihm herab. Gewiss gefiel ihm der Anblick. Warum auch nicht? Fynn hatte schließlich einiges für diesen Körper getan, hatte einen halben Herbst und einen ganzen Winter geschwitzt, eingeklemmt unter eisernen Gewichten und umgeben von übelriechenden Männern und Frauen. Über die Monate hatte er einen ansehnlichen Brustansatz entwickelt, straff und leicht nach außen gewölbt, wie es sich gehörte. Seine Schultern waren ein wenig breiter geworden, wenngleich sie mit seinen Armen eine große Schwachstelle seines Körpers ausmachten. Immerhin hingen an ihm nicht länger dürre Äste herab, sondern stattliche Arme, von der Größe eines Golfballs, wenn er sie anspannte. Wenigstens hatte er keine Probleme mit Rumpf und Beine. Während sein Rücken die Arme ein wenig zu beiden Seiten wegdrückte, hatte er unterhalb der Brust bereits die Ansätze eines soliden Sixpacks entwickelt. Zugeben war die unterste Reihe noch nicht sichtbar. Dennoch gefiel ihm der Anblick vor dem Spiegel und er wusste, dass auch Leif Gefallen daran gefunden hatte. Auf den Beinen wiederum hatten sich über die vergangenen Monate gut unterscheidbare Muskelsegmente gebildet und ausgerechnet seine kräftigen Waden waren sein ganzer Stolz. „Wonach sieht es denn aus?“, grinste er und streckte und rekelte sich vor seinem Freund. Sieh gut hin. Das alles habe ich für dich getan. „Ich drehe ein paar Runden im Wasser.“ „Du willst echt darin schwimmen?“ Leif schluckte. Der Junge war mit seinen 1.82m ein wenig größer als Fynn, was dieser allerdings auf den Jahresunterschied schob. Während er vergangenen Herbst seinen 16ten Geburtstag gefeiert hatte und fast 17 war, so war ihm Leif ein ganzes Jahr voraus. Als Leif ihm erklärte, dass sie bereits ein Alter erreicht hätten, bei dem sich nicht mehr viel tun würde in dieser Hinsicht, hatte ihn Fynn schmollend ignoriert. „Warum nicht?“, entgegnete Fynn. Vorsichtig tauchte er den Fuß ein und schreckte zurück. Eiskalt. Genau die richtige Temperatur. „Du bist verrückt“, bemerkte Leif. „Nicht verrückt. Nur am Schwitzen.“ Damit stieg Fynn in den Tümpel hinein, fühlte, wie das Wasser ihn allmählich umgab, bis es ihm bis zur Brust reichte. Die Kälte ließ ihn für einen Augenblick erstarren. Sein Herzschlag setzte aus und er vergaß für diesen flüchtigen Moment, dass über ihm die Sonne knallte. „Pass nur auf, dass du dir keinen Sonnenbrand holst.“ „Pass du lieber auf, dass du dir keinen Ständer holst.“ Damit hatte er Leif erwischt. Sofort stieg ihm die Röte ins Gesicht und bald schon leuchtete er wie ein Hummer im Wasserbad. Auch etwas, worin sein Freund ihm Überlegen war. Untenrum war er hart 15cm groß, Leif hingegen 16.5cm. Nicht, dass es ihn störte. Immerhin gab es keinen Wettbewerb zwischen den beiden. Aaron und Caleb hätten sicher einen daraus gemacht. Die beiden verbrachten noch unzählige Stunden am Tümpel. Zuerst zog Fynn seine Runden im Wasser, genoss die erfrischende Kälte, die davon ausging. Danach lagen sie gemeinsam in der Sonne, warteten, bis Fynn einigermaßen getrocknet war, damit er sich wieder einkleiden konnte. Bevor sie zurück zur Lichtung schlichen, füllte Fynn noch zwei Wasserflaschen, die er für die Nacht im Zelt aufbewahren wollte, und verstaute sie sicher in den tiefen Taschen seiner Hose. Als sie wieder zurückkehrten, wurden sie bereits sehnsüchtig von ihren anderen beiden Freunden erwartet. „Ihr lebt ja noch. Siehst du, Aaron, sie wurden nicht von einem Bären gefressen!“ Caleb entspannte auf einem ausgeklappten Campingstuhl und blätterte in einer Zeitschrift über die neuesten Sporttrends. „Haben ja lange genug gebraucht“, grummelte Aaron. Er schlug gerade den letzten Hering des Zeltes fest. In ihrer Abwesenheit hatten sie nicht nur die Steine für ein Lagerfeuer zusammengesucht, sondern auch die drei Zelte aufgebaut und fachgerecht fixiert. „Habt ihr wenigstens an das Feuerholz gedacht?“ Er warf ihnen einen kritischen Blick zu. Fynn und Leifen sahen einander an. Ups. „Das ist ja wohl die Höhe!“, beschwerte sich Aaron. „Lass gut sein“, lachte Caleb sichtlich amüsiert. „Das einzige Holz, das sie wohl in die Hand genommen haben, befindet sich zwischen ihren Beinen.“ Er zwinkerte ihnen zu und ließ sie somit zeitgleich erröten. Am Ende musste Fynn wieder losziehen. Alleine. Leif sollte dableiben und das Abendessen zusammen mit Caleb vorbereiten. Eine notwendige Sicherheitsmaßnahme, nannte er es. Als Fynn wieder zurückkehrte, war die Sonne hinter den Kieferwipfeln verschwunden und hatte den Weg für die Dämmerung freigemacht. Es dauerte ein wenig, bis das Feuer gut geschützt innerhalb der Steine knisterte, doch am Ende brannte es und neben einem Bohneneintopf gab es außerdem eine von Calebs neuen Spezialitäten. „Das Zeug habe ich früher vor jedem Workout verschlungen“, erklärte er ihnen stolz. „Es gibt deinem Körper nicht nur Energie, sondern pumpt dich dazu noch auf. Gibt kein besseres Gefühl!“ Die anderen wussten nicht ganz, was sie von dieser zähen Pampe halten sollten. Nur Fynn war mutig genug, eine Schüssel zu probieren. Er sah es als seine Pflicht, ein Zeichen der Wiedergutmachung, weil die beiden die Zelte ganz ohne ihre Hilfe aufgebaut hatten. Am Ende bereute er es allerdings. Dreißig Minuten saß er auf der Campingtoilette im Busch fest, bevor er endlich zu Leif ins Zelt stoßen konnte. Sein Freund hatte sich bereits umgezogen, hatte Oberteil und Hose abgelegt und lag auf dem Bauch, während er in einem spannenden Reiseführer blätterte. Leif mochte zwar größer als er gewesen sein, doch wirkte sein Körper dadurch auch schlanker und zierlicher. Dank fehlenden Körperfetts zeichneten sich überall drahtige Muskeln ab. Einige waren kräftiger wie seine Beine, was er den vielen Wanderungen zu verdanken hatte. Andere wiederum hätten ein wenig mehr Fülle vertragen können. Dazu gehörten Brust, Schultern und Arme. „Hast du den Toilettenausflug doch noch überlebt?“, fragte Leif und blätterte zur nächsten Seite. Fynn schwieg. Sein Blick lastete auf Leifs Rücken, unter dessen Haut sich die drahtigen Muskeln verformten, wenn Leif den Arm bewegte, um eine lästige Fliege loszuwerden. Der Hintern in der engen Shorts wirkte prall und wohl geformt. Wer soll da widerstehen? Heimlich ließ Fynn die Hose nach unten gleiten und befreite sich zudem von seinem Shirt, bis er lediglich in Unterwäsche dastand. Sein Glied erwachte bereits zum Leben und er wollte sich dem Verlangen nicht länger widersetzen. Gleich einem Tier fiel er über seinen Freund her, schnappte ihm das Buch aus der Hand und legte es behutsam zur Seite. „Das ist aber nicht freundlich“, entgegnete Leif, doch Fynn brachte ihn zum Schweigen, indem er seine Handgelenke umklammert und sein Gemächt über Leifs wohl geformten Hintern rieb. „Genau so wie ich ihn in Erinnerung hatte“, flüsterte Fynn. Er löste den Griff und ließ sich von Leif auf den Rücken wälzen. Verträumt schaute er seinem Freund in die tiefblauen Augen und strich ihm das pechschwarze Haar aus dem Gesicht. Von unten sah er die flache Brust und darunter die bleiche Haut, die sich über sechs gut sichtbare Muskelsegmente spannte. Wenn ich so wenig Fett am Körper hätte, würde ich viel muskulöser aussehen. Er schmunzelte und presste Leif dicht an seine Brust und fühlte, wie auch er allmählich steif wurde. Ihre Körper rieben aneinander. Verspielt zauste er ihm das Haar und schenkte ihm einen langen und innigen Kuss. Schweiß perlte auf seiner Stirn und floss ihm an den Wangen herab, derweil er die Hände um Leifs Hüften lege und zärtlich über seinen Hintern streichelte. Fynn spürte, wie Leifs Finger heimlich an ihm herabstiegen, ihn von oben bis unten abtasteten und schließlich dicht an seiner Unterwäsche anhielten. Bevor Leif allerdings zugreifen konnte, wälzte ihn Fynn zur Seite, sodass nun er oben lag. „Nicht so vorschnell“, keuchte er. „Ach ja?“ Leif grinste schelmisch und umklammerte Fynns Schaft mit der linken Hand. Fynn stöhnte auf. Schweiß floss von seiner Stirn und tropfte von seiner Nasenspitze herab auf die Brust seines Freundes. Der Atem verließ seinen Mund heiß und flach. Er erwischte sich dabei, wie er stöhnte und um jeden Atemzug rang. „Worauf wartest du noch? Nimm mich!“, betonte er schlagartig und es klang nahezu wie ein Befehl. Zunächst schaute ihn Leif stillschweigend an. Eine Hand lag auf Fynns blondem Haar, die andere an seinem Schaft. Dann nickte er. Mit beiden Händen umfasste er den Bund der Boxershorts und entblößte Fynn vollkommen. Wenig später umfassten zwei Hände sein Glied und massierten es mit vollster Konzentration. „Scheiße“, keuchte Fynn und stieß ein zufriedenes Stöhnen aus. Das Herz in seiner Brust begann zu pulsieren, stärker und härter. Ein Paukenschlag, der ihn erweckte. Während überall auf seinem Körper der Schweiß perlte, fühlte er wie eine unglaubliche Hitze in ihm aufstieg. Verdammt. Am Anfang hielt er es für sein Verlangen, den unbändigen Sexualtrieb, den Leif in ihm ausgelöst hatte, aber schon bald wurde die Hitze unerträglich. „Ist alles gut?“ Leif legte seinem Freund die Hand auf die Stirn und erschrak. „Du glühst ja förmlich! Ist es das Essen? Eine Allergie?“ „Nein“, zischte Fynn kurzerhand. „Das ist keine allergische Reaktion. Das ist etwas… anderes.“ Er hielt einen Augenblick inne und horchte den Schlägen seines Herzens, lauschte dem Rauschen seines eigenen Blutes. Fuck. Ein weiterer Herzschlag brachte seinen Körper zum Beben. Etwas an ihm war anders, etwas, das er nie für möglich gehalten hätte. Es geschah zwischen seinen Beinen und lenkte seine und Leifs Aufmerksamkeit auf sich. Zwischen seinen Beinen hing sein Gemächt, vollkommen erhärtet, doch war es nicht länger seines. Nein. Es veränderte sich, pulsierte mit jedem Herzschlag und wuchs, bis es die Marke von 16 und schließlich von 17 Zentimetern übertraf. Kranker Scheiß. Ist das wirklich meiner? Ungläubig führte er die Hand nach unten und stöhnte. Unmöglich. „Hast du das gesehen?“, fragte er und suchte die Zustimmung bei Leif. „Du hast mich überholt“, entgegnete er, die Hände im eigenen Schritt ruhend. Plötzlich riss Fynn die Augen auf. „Fuck. Es passiert schon wieder.“ „Du meinst, er wird noch länger?“ „Nein“, entgegnete Fynn, die Stirn in Falten gelegt. „Diesmal meine ich etwas anderes.“ Die Hitze, die er zuvor in seinem Schritt wahrgenommen hatte, breitete sich nun über seinen gesamten Körper aus. Er fühlte, wie das Blut in seine Arme, seine Beine und seine Brust strömte und ließ ein tiefes und lüsternes Grollen über seine Lippen wandern. Während Leif weiterhin unter ihm lag, merkte er, wie seine Brust allmählich schwerer wurde. Gleich einem Ballon blähte sie sich vor seinen Augen auf, doch wurde sie nicht mit Luft, sondern mit harter Muskelmasse gefüllt. Beinahe zeitgleich regte sich etwas in seinen Armen. Er führte den rechten vor seine Augen, spannte an und staunte, als eine Erhebung von der Größe eines Tennisballs zurückblieb. Auch der Rest seines Körpers blieb von dem plötzlichen Wachstumsschub nicht verschont. Er kämpfte mit dem Gleichgewicht, während sein Rücken allmählich anschwoll, während seine Arme zu den Seiten hin weggedrückt und seine Schultern praller und härter wurden. Danach folgten seine Beine. Neben den ohnehin schon sichtbaren Muskelsegmenten gesellten sich weitere dazu, nur um von den Hauptgruppen verschlungen zu werden. Schließlich dauerte das Schauspiel keine fünf Minuten, doch in dieser kurzen Zeit hatte sich sein Körper erheblich verändert. Weiterhin ungläubig wandte Fynn den eigenen Arm vor den Augen, betrachtete Bizeps und Trizeps, spannte die Muskeln an und grinste gleich einem Jungen an Weihnachten als er erkannte, dass dies wirklich seine Muskeln waren. „Hatte wohl einen späten Wachstumsschub.“ Fynn richtete sich allmählich auf. Er taumelte von einem Bein auf das andere, bis er im Zelt kniete. Sein neuer Körper fühlte sich fremd, wenngleich nicht weniger aufregend an. „Du hast nen verdammtes Sixpack!“, staunte Leif und kniete sich ebenfalls hin. Nen Sixpack? Voller Aufregung schaute Fynn an sich herab. Verdammt. Das soll mich doch der Blitz beim Scheißen treffen. Genüsslich ließ er seine Finger über sechs perfekt getrennte Segmente wandern, spannte seinen Bauch an und fühlte, wie sich die Muskeln darunter bewegten. „Wenn ich es nicht besser wüsste, würde das für nen verdammten Traum halten.“ „Mir soll’s recht sein“, entgegnete Leif und trat näher an ihn ran. „Hauptsache dieser Traum findet kein Ende.“ Sein Freund tastete ihn gierig mit den Augen ab, betrachtete die volle Brust, die breiten Schultern, das Sixpack, das Gemächt, das zum Bachnabel aufragte und die pulsierenden Beine. „Caleb und du sollten im Flexen gegeneinander antreten und sehen, wer die größeren Muskeln hat.“ Fynn schmunzelte. Die Idee gefiel ihm. Dennoch wollte er zunächst etwas anderes machen. Wild wie ein Tier packte er Leif an den Schultern und presste ihn dicht an sich heran. „Wo waren wir stehen geblieben?“, flüstere er und schenkte ihm einen innigen Kuss. Zum ersten Mal merkte er, dass sie gleich groß waren. Mit diesem Wachstumsschub hatte er seinen Freund eingeholt. Fünf verdammte Zentimeter. Leif schien der Anblick ebenfalls zu gefallen. „Ich wüsste da etwas, das dir gefallen könnte.“ Zugleich glitt er an ihm herab. Seine Hände, warm und glitschig vom Schweiß, umklammerte sein Gemächt und ließen ihn aufstöhnen. Die eigenen Hände zausten liebevoll durch Leifs kurzes Haar, führten ihn näher an sich heran, tiefer in seinen Schritt, bis die Lippen des Jungens ihn vollkommen aufnahmen. Kapitel 2: Fynn kicherte. „Nicht“, murmelte er. „Nicht an den Füßen.“ Das Kitzeln ließ nicht nach. Anfänglich hielt er es für einen von Leifs Scherzen. Schläfrig öffnete er die Augen. Der Junge lag weiterhin neben ihm, hatte den Arm über seine Brust gelegt und schnarchte ausgiebig. Verunsichert lugte Fynn über die eigene Brust, schaute über die ungewohnt kräftigen Muskeln hinweg. Zwischen seinen Füßen raschelte etwas. Ein Büschel rotes Fell huschte an seinem dicken Zeh vorbei und hatte seinen Kopf im Rucksack vergraben. Danach folgte ein flauschiger Schweif. Fluffig wie ein Pinsel, wedelte er von der einen zur anderen Seite. Zwei spitz zulaufende Ohren zuckten, als Fynn sich aufzurichten versuchte. Der Eindringling befreite den Kopf aus dem Rucksack und hielt einen halb geöffneten Müsliriegel zwischen den Zähnen. Beinahe zeitgleich schrien die beiden auf. Der Fuchs stürzte nach vorne, verpasste Fynn einen deftigen Schlag ins Gesicht und flüchte durch das halb geöffnete Zelt. Fynn folgte ihm, das Herz rasend vor Schreck. „Es hat mich gebissen!“, rief er und der Wald erwachte dank seiner Stimme. Noch sah er das feurig rote Tier zwischen den Zelten umherhuschen, dann hatte es sich auch bereits in einem der anliegenden Büsche davongestohlen. Dem großen Tumult schloss sich eine neugierige Krähe an, die in den Resten ihres Lagerfeuers pickte, und den Kopf fragwürdig zur Seite drehte. Danach stocherte sie weiter in der erkalteten Asche herum. „Was hat dich gebissen? Etwa dein Freund?“ Aaron kam aus seinem Zelt hervor. Das dichte braune Haar stand in alle Richtungen ab. Über die Nacht hatte er in Unterwäsche und Unterhemd geschlafen. Die fehlenden Ärmel stellten seine gut gebräunten Arme gut zur Schau. Er war ein wenig kräftiger, wenngleich pummeliger als Leif. So befand er sich auf einer Skala in etwa zwischen seinem Freund und ihm selbst. Das war allerdings vor seinem unerwarteten Wachstumsschub gewesen. Jetzt trennten sie mehr als nur ein paar Muskeln voneinander. Fynn tastete vorsichtig über die blutigen Kratzspuren, die der Fuchs auf seiner Wange zurückgelassen hatte und stieß einen Fluch aus. Brennt fürchterlich. „Das solltest du behandeln lassen“, gähnte Aaron und rieb sich den Morgensand aus den Augen. „Das und… heilige Scheiße. Was ist denn mit dir passiert?!“ Plötzlich hatte Aaron die Augen weit aufgerissen. Seine Blicke tasteten Fynns Körper ab, wanderten über seine Brust, das Sixpack und schließlich weiter nach unten. „Also bei der letzten Dusche hattest du noch nicht so ein Monsterteil.“ Verunsichert schaute Fynn an sich herab. Fuck. Er war nackt wie an dem Tage seiner Geburt, war wohl so eingeschlafen als er und Leif endlich fertig geworden waren und hatte die Kleider im Zelt zurückgelassen. Sofort führte er die Hände schützend nach unten, um zu verbergen, was er zu verbergen vermochte. „Wie viel Zentimeter sind das?“, fragte Aaron neugierig. „17? 17,5?“ „Aaron!“ Fynn hielt das nicht länger aus. Die Röte schoss ihm ins Gesicht. „Nein ernsthaft!“, beharrte Aaron. „Wenn Leifs Mund solche Wunder wirken kann, dann, verzeih mir, aber dann soll er sich gerne auch mal an mir vergreifen. Ich hab euch letzte Nacht gehört und den Geräuschen nach, müsst ihr nen Riesenspaß gehabt haben.“ Das war zu viel für ihn. Mehr konnte er nicht ertragen. Zugleich kehrte ihm Fynn den Rücken zu. Ein Fehler. „Schau sich einer diesen verdammten Rücken an! Verdammt! Warte, bis Caleb davon erfährt!“ Caleb? Auf gar keinen Fall. „Nein!“, schnaubte Fynn kurzerhand und wandte sich um. Er machte einige Schritte auf Aaron zu, bis er direkt vor ihm stand. Seit gestern war er gut zwei Zentimeter größer als sein Gegenüber. „Caleb darf unter keinen Umständen davon erfahren. Nicht heute. Nicht morgen. Niemals.“ „Aber warum denn nicht?“ Aaron legte ihm die Hand auf die Schulter und Fynn fühlte, wie der Junge heimliche die Festigkeit seiner Muskeln überprüfte. „Stell es dir doch nur einmal vor! Ihr könntet euch gegenseitig befühlen, eure Muskeln vergleichen und ich könnte Bilder davon machen!“ Zum Beweis holte er eine Fotokamera hervor, ein Geschenk seines Vaters, dass er vor ihrem Ausflug bekommen hatte, machte einen Schritt nach hinten und drückte auf den Auslöser. Knips. Der Blitz blendete Fynn und ließ ihn für einen flüchtigen Augenblick vergessen, wo er war. „Ein gutes Fotomotiv bist du schon mal.“ Aaron grinste schelmisch. „Was ist denn das? Hast wohl Gefallen an meinem Vorschlag gefunden.“ „Was ist bloß falsch bei dir?“, protestierte Fynn. Zwar mochte er sich unbeeindruckt zeigen, sein Gemächt erweckte bei dem Gedanken daran, dass jemand seine Muskeln befühlen und mit Calebs kräftigen Körper vergleichen könne, zum Leben. „Ich habe genug davon.“ „Was denn?“, entgegnete Aaron. „Ich bin nicht splitterfasernackt aus meinem Zelt gekommen, um meinen Körper der Natur zu präsentieren.“ „Willst du etwa sagen, ich wäre schuld?“ „Wenn du dir schon nichts anziehst, könntest du mir wenigstens verraten, wie ihr das gemacht habt.“ Geduldig wartete Aaron auf eine Antwort. Warte meinetwegen, bis du umfällst. Von mir wirst du nichts erfahren. „Sei einfach still“, knurrte Fynn. Er wollte durch die Öffnung ins Zelt zurückkehren, als ihm Leif entgegenkam. Unter dem Arm hatte er Fynns Anziehsachen eingeklemmt, eine luftige und sommerliche Shorts, ein weites Shirt, das er normalerweise zum Sport anzog und beim Wandern durch die Wälder tragen wollte, und rabenschwarze Unterwäsche. „Was ist passiert?“, fragte er verschlafen und reichte ihm die Sachen. „Hab dich schreien gehört und als ich nachsehen wollte, warst du bereits draußen.“ „Nichts ist passiert“, grummelte Fynn. Beim Gedanken daran, dass er sich wegen einem niedlichen Fuchs beinahe vor Schreck eingenässt hätte, stieg ihm die Röte ins Gesicht. Da habe ich schon an Körpergröße dazugewonnen und führe mich immer noch auf wie ein kleines Kind, das nachts nicht alleine einschlafen kann. Er griff dankend nach seinen Klamotten und schlüpfte zunächst in die Unterwäsche. Leif hatte ausgerechnet ein Stück aus seiner enganliegenden Kollektion ausgewählt. Zum ersten Mal spürte er, dass er auch im Bereich des Hinterns ein wenig an Muskelmasse gewonnen hatte, denn die Unterwäsche zwickte bei jedem Schritt. Außerdem half sie nicht wirklich dabei, sein Gemächt zu verbergen. Die Konturen zeichneten sich deutlich ab. Sowohl Aaron als auch Leif schienen die Wahl der Unterwäsche allerdings zu befürworten. „Offensichtlich ist etwas passiert“, bemerkte Aaron und wandte sich an Leif. „Du hast irgendetwas gemacht, was den kleinen Fynn in einen größeren Fynn verwandelt hat.“ Spricht er von mir oder meinem Penis? Leif schenkte Fynn einen verunsicherten Blick. „Weiß er es etwa?“ „Leif, schau mich an. Jeder, der mich länger als ein Jahr kennt, wird den Unterschied merken. Vor allem, wenn ich nackt vor ihm stehe. Ein Glück, dass du die extra weiten Klamotten ausgewählt hast.“ Fynn zwängte sich in das Shirt und zog es über der Brust straff. Es saß ein wenig enger, seit dem letzten Mal, doch hing es weiterhin lose an den Schultern herab. Solange ich keinen weiteren Wachstumsschub habe, sollte sich zumindest Caleb davon täuschen lassen. Der war ohnehin noch nie der hellste. „So ihr beiden, Schluss mit den Lügen.“ Aaron verschränkte die Arme vor der Brust. „Ich möchte die Wahrheit. Die ganze Wahrheit. Was ist gestern Nacht in diesem Zelt passiert? Warum sieht Fynn fast wie Aaron aus und vor allem, was hat es mit diesem Monsterteil zwischen seinen Beinen auf sich?“ Fynn seufzte. „Du lässt nicht locker, was?“ Er wagte einen Blick auf Calebs Zelt. „Was ist mit ihm?“ „Der?“ Aaron zuckte mit den Schultern. „Der ist seit gut zwanzig Minuten wach und rennt durch den Wald. Seine morgendliche Routine, falls du dich erinnerst. Wegen ihm musst du dir keine Sorgen machen.“ Gemütlich nahm er auf einem ausklappbaren Stuhl Platz und schlug das linke Bein über das andere Knie. „Also? Ich warte.“ „Wir sollten ihm die Wahrheit sagen“, sprach Leif und schaute ihm mit kugelrunden Augen entgegen. Welche Wahrheit, dachte Fynn. Wir wissen doch selber nichts. Und selbst wenn… was will er dann machen? Gerade Typen wie Aaron neigen zur Übertreibung in dieser Hinsicht. Fynn erinnerte sich daran, wie ein Junge Aaron einst gesagt hatte, vom Dreck fressen werde man schlau. Leichtgläubig wie Aaron damals war, hatte er beinahe einen ganzen Eimer voller Erde verschlungen, bevor ihm so übel geworden war, dass er gleich drei Tage im Bett verbracht hatte. Und trotzdem werde ich nicht drum herumkommen. Wieder seufzte Fynn. „Na schön. Aber viel wissen wir auch nicht.“ Also nahmen Fynn und Leif neben ihm Platz und erzählte ihm von ihrem gestrigen Tag. Sie berichteten vom Müsliriegel von der Tankstelle, von ihrem Spaziergang zum Tümpel, den Spielen in der Sonne und dem vergangenen Abendessen. Ein Wort schien dabei Aarons Verdacht zu wecken. „Du glaubst, es könnte an Calebs speziellem Proteinmahl liegen?“, überlegte Fynn und verschränkte die Arme hinter dem Kopf. „Möglich wäre es.“ „Ich halte es für unwahrscheinlich“, entgegnete Leif. „Denkt doch mal nach. Aaron futtert dieses Zeug bestimmt schon seit unzähligen Jahren und sieht trotzdem nicht wie ein Berg aus. Du aber hast bloß eine Schüssel gegessen und schätzungsweise fünf Kilo an Muskelmasse dazugewonnen.“ Deshalb bist du der schlaue von uns beiden. „Mein Freund hat Recht“, stimmte er zu. „Und was ist, wenn es nur einmal funktioniert? Was, wenn die Wirkung über die Zeit nachlässt? Keiner von uns weiß, wie Caleb vorher ausgesehen hat.“ Aaron hielt weiterhin an dem Gedanken fest. „Vielleicht war er einst so ein Dünnling wie Leif hier.“ Er schenkte ihm einen flüchtigen Blick, um sich zu entschuldigen. „Wir können erst sicher sein, wenn wir es ausprobiert haben.“ „Und was schlägst du vor?“ Caleb kam aus einem der Gebüsche gerannt. Das feurige Haar hatte er mit einem Stirnband fixiert und trotzdem hing es ihm dank des Schweißes träge ins Gesicht. In seinen eisigen Augen lag ein zufriedener Schimmer. „Was soll die ernste Stimmung?“, fragte er und streckte sich ein wenig. Das Muskelshirt spannte sich über seine Brust und gab die unterste Reihe seines Sixpacks frei. Die Arme waren aufgebläht. Offenbar hatte er neben dem Laufen noch einige andere Übungen absolviert. Sexy wie eh und je. In diesem Moment wurde sich Fynn abermals bewusst, wie viel trotz der vergangenen Nacht noch zwischen ihm und Caleb fehlte. Den werde ich nie aufholen. „Wo ist denn hier bitte eine ernste Stimmung.“ Aaron sprang auf und zwinkerte Fynn zu. „Wir haben uns gerade nur gefragt, ob noch etwas von deinem Spezialessen übrig ist.“ Calebs Augen leuchteten wie zwei Sterne. „Wer hat das gefragt?“ „Nun… Leif… jap, Leif hat das gefragt.“ „Hab ich nicht“, protestierte Leif. „Hat er doch“, entgegnete Aaron. Er schlich an Caleb vorbei und kniete sich hin, damit er direkt in Leifs Ohren flüstern konnte. „Hör zu. Du bist der schmächtigste von uns allen. Fynn hat bereits von dem Zeug gekostet. Ich mag zwar nicht wirklich Muskeln haben, bin aber immer noch kräftiger als du. Wenn wir sicher sein wollen, dass das Zeug wirkt, brauchen wir ein Versuchskaninchen.“ „Ich will aber…“ Caleb hielt ihm eine Schüssel voller zähem Schleim vor den Mund. Der Gestank brachte den Junge beinahe zum Übergeben. „Hätte ich gewusst, dass du auch was davon willst, hätte ich gleich nen ganzen Topf gemacht!“, grinste Caleb. „Der kleine Leif will endlich groß und stark werden. Wenn du willst, zeige ich dir nachher mal ein paar Übungen.“ „Ich glaube nicht…“ Leif bekam den ersten Löffel in den Mund geschoben. Es war Aaron, der ihn führte. „Der kleine Leif ist überwältig von deiner Großzügigkeit und würde gerne ein paar Übungen sehen, doch zunächst solltest du dich wohl waschen gehen.“ Aaron kniff die Nase zu. „Du riechst wie ein Affe.“ „Das ist Geruch der Männlichkeit“, prahlte Caleb. „Aber vermutlich hast du recht.“ Er stülpte das Muskelshirt über den Kopf und gab eine pralle Brust und ein perfektes Sixpack frei. Was ein Adonis Belt. Fynn erwischte sich dabei, wie er hart wurde. Breite Schultern, starkes Kreuz und kräftige Beine. Der perfekte Körperbau. Vielleicht hätte ein oder zwei Kilo mehr in der gestrigen Nacht nicht geschadet. „Wenn du willst, darfst du dich nachher anschließen.“ Caleb hatte bemerkt, dass Fynn ihn angestarrte und ließ seine Brustmuskeln zucken. „Wenn ich dich so ansehe, scheinst du allerdings nicht mehr allzu weit davon entfernt. Hast wohl doch ein wenig mehr trainiert, als ich in Erinnerung hatte.“ Er lächelte und verschwand in seinem Zelt. Sofort spuckte Leif den Brei wieder aus. „Das ist ja widerlich“, krächzte er. „Und dennoch wirst du alles davon essen müssen“, betonte Aaron kritisch. „Wirklich alles?“ Leif suchte Hilfe bei seinem Freund. Fynn verspürte unglaubliches Mitleid. Dennoch blieb er eisern. „Du wirst die Schüssel zum Wohle der Wissenschaft aufessen müssen“, lächelte er und zauste ihm das Haar. „Tu es für mich.“ Für einen kurzen Moment hielt Leif inne. Er starrte in die Schüssel als laure dort das größte Übel der Menschheit. Dann seufzte er und verzehrte widerstrebe den nächsten Löffel. „Ich werde Wasser brauchen, eine ganze Menge Wasser.“ „Dann sollst du meins haben.“ Fynn verschwand im Zelt und kam mit zwei Wasserflaschen zurück. „Frisches Wasser aus dem Quell der Natur.“ Er reichte seinem Freund die Flaschen und sah zu, wie dieser die erste in einem Zug leerte. Er lächelte unschuldig. „Vielleicht sollte ich noch ein paar Flaschen holen.“ Kapitel 3: Vier prall gefüllte Wasserflaschen später hatte Leif den letzten Löffel zäher Pampe hinuntergeschluckt. Das Gesicht des Jungen war kreidebleich angelaufen, die Augen hinter der Brille von solch einer Leere erfüllt, dass es Fynn fast Unbehagen bereitete. „Ich werde mich ein wenig hinlegen und ausruhen, wenn es euch recht ist“, hatte Leif ihnen mitgeteilt und war zittrig und schwach von seinem Stuhl aufgestanden und auf allen Vieren zurück ins Zelt gekrochen. „Ruf uns, wenn du irgendetwas spürst“, hatte Aaron lediglich entgegnet und Fynn hatte ihm dafür einen Schlag auf den Hinterkopf verpasst. „Du hättest ein wenig mehr Rücksicht zeigen können.“ Er hockte neben Aaron am Fluss, lauschte dem sanften Rauschen und den Schatten, die durch das Wasser huschten. „Immerhin hat er das Ganze nur deinetwegen getan.“ Aaron zeigte sich keiner Schuld bewusst. Er zupfte an der Angelschnur und gähnte verschlafen. Für heute hatte er einen entspannenden Angelausflug geplant, wollte tagsüber in der Sonne schmoren und am Abend ein paar leckere Fische braten. „Tu nicht so, als würde es dich nicht auch interessieren“, erklärte er und betrachtete aufmerksam sein Spiegelbild in der Wasseroberfläche. Eine Libelle schwirrte über das kühle Nass, ließ sich auf einem Grashalm nieder und wippte sachte im Wind. „Wenn Calebs Zeug tatsächlich der Grund für deinen spontanen Wachstumsschub ist, wirst auch du profitieren. Stell es dir einmal vor: Dein Freund mit Muskeln. Du hättest einen sanftmütigen Muskelriesen. Du kannst mir nicht erzählen, dass dich das kalt lässt.“ Tat es nicht. Allein der Gedanke daran, erweckte seine Männlichkeit. Nach allem hatte Fynn seinen Freund schon mehrfach dazu gedrängt, ein wenig Gewicht zuzulegen. Leider hatte Leif kein wirkliches Interesse an gusseisernen Gewichten und verschwitzten Trainingsgeräten. Aber ihn deswegen gleich so zu überrumpeln? Nachdenklich zeichnete Fynn einige Kreise im Dreck, nutzte dazu einen hauchdünnen Zweig, der entzweibrach. „Vielleicht habe ich vorhin ein wenig übertrieben.“ Aaron griff nach seinem Shirt und tupfte sich damit die schweißgetränkte Brust trocken. Bis auf die Unterhose hatte er all seine Kleider abgelegt, um möglichst viel von der Sonne abzukriegen. Anders als er und Leif, überzog Aarons Körper eine feine und dennoch deutlich sichtbare Fettschicht, die ihm weichere Konturen verlieh. Gewiss besaß der Junge auch einige Muskelansätze. Seine Arme zum Beispiel wirkten kräftig und solide. Wenn er sie anwinkelte, um die Angelschnur ein wenig einzuholen, zeichneten sich darauf weiche Schatten ab und hoben die Muskeln dadurch hervor. „Mein ganzes Leben lang versuche ich jetzt schon, Muskeln aufzubauen“, erklärte Aaron. „Hab’s mit Gewichten versucht, mit Elektroschocks, Maschinen, Calisthenics und sogar drei Monate lang mit Caleb trainiert. Nichts. Mein Arzt meint, es läge an einer Störung meines Hormonhaushalts, hat mir deshalb sogar schon Testosteron verschrieben. Hat aber auch nicht wirklich geholfen.“ Er lächelte und erschrak, als der Köder im Wasser verschwand. Sofort schnappte er nach der Angelroute und begann, heftig gegen die Strömung und den Fisch anzukämpfen. „Komm schon!“, schnaubte er. Für einen flüchtigen Augenblick zeigte sich der Fisch, indem er einen großen Sprung aus dem Wasser machte. Seine Schuppen glänzten wie ein Panzer aus reinem Gold. Als das Tier wieder eintauchte, spritzte es Wasser in alle Richtungen. „Verdammt nochmal“, krächzte Aaron. Schweiß perlte auf seinem ganzen Körper und verlieh den zitternden Muskeln darunter ein kräftigeres Aussehen. „Vielleicht solltest du…“ Fynn wollte eine Warnung aussprechen, als Aaron nach vorne kippte. Noch im selben Augenblick stürzte Fynn nach vorne, schloss die Arme um Aarons Rücken und umklammerte die Angelroute mit seinen kräftigen Händen. „Ist ein bisschen hartnäckiger“, schnaubte Aaron. „Du bist ein Idiot“, entgegnete Fynn unbeeindruckt. „Lass. Einfach. Los!“ Seine eigenen Muskeln blähten sich auf. Das Biest war zäh und kräftig, nutzte die Flussströmung zu seinem eigenen Vorteil. Kein gewöhnlicher Fisch besitzt solch brachiale Kräfte. „Lass ein wenig nach!“, forderte Aaron. „Jetzt wieder ziehen. Nicht nach rechts. Nach links! Ihm folgen und im richtigen Moment gegenwirken. Jetzt einholen. Vorsichtig. Nicht zu schnell!“ Abermals schoss der Fisch aus dem Wasser hervor und diesmal stürzte Aaron nach vorne, um ihn aus der Luft zu schnappen. Will der mich verarschen? Zwar hielt Aaron den Fisch letztlich tatsächlich in den Händen, doch wäre er deswegen auch fast in den Fluss gestürzt. Einzig und allein Fynn hatte er es zu verdanken, dass er nicht fortgespült wurde. Der Junge umklammerte Aarons Bauch und zog ihn mit einem Ruck zurück ans Ufer. Beide fielen nach hinten und landeten im Gras. Neben ihnen lag das Untier. Ein Fisch von der Größe eines halben Haies mit Schuppen so rein wie poliertes Gold. Zähne wie Messerspitzen ragten aus dem Maul hervor und wuchsen in alle Richtungen. Die Flossen zappelten wild umher, während es um Luft rang, aber letztlich gab es den Überlebenskampf auf und badete nunmehr im Sonnenlicht. „Knappe Sache“, lächelte Aaron. „Da hätte es mich doch glatt umgerissen.“ Weiterhin ruhte er auf Fynns Körper, hatte den eigenen Kopf auf dessen Brust aufgelegt und lauschte offenbar dem Herz, das darin vor Aufregung trommelte. Eine Hand hatte sich offenbar unter sein Shirt verloren, denn die feuchten Finger tasteten neugierig über seine Bauchmuskulatur und wanderten an ihm herauf. „Was wird das?“ Fynn warf ihm einen kritischen Blick zu und fühlte plötzlich, wie Aaron in seine Brustwarze kniff. „Bist du verrückt geworden?“, keuchte Fynn. „Es fühlt sich sogar noch besser an als es aussieht.“ Sabber floss an Aarons Lippen herab. „So kräftig und so hart. Wie ein Fels.“ Beide seiner Hände hatten sich inzwischen unter Fynns Shirt gestohlen und krempelten es ein wenig zurück, um die erste Reihe harter Bauchmuskeln zu offenbaren. Die Spitze seines Gemächts lugte allmählich unter dem Hosenbund hervor und wuchs in die Länge, während er erhärtete. „Nicht“, keuchte Fynn. Schweiß perlte auf seiner Stirn. Sein Herz schlug schneller und schneller. Was tut dieser Idiot da? Aarons Augen fanden sein Glied. „Ich sollte nicht“, sprach er beinahe hypnotisiert. „Sollte es nicht anfassen.“ Seine Finger strichen zärtlich über die Unterwäsche und zogen die Konturen nach. Fynn stöhnte. „Und trotzdem möchte ich es in die Finger nehmen. Ich möchte die Männlichkeit darin pulsieren spüren.“ Seine Finger griffen zu und Fynn erwachte. Mit einem Mal stieß er Aaron zur Seite. Der Junge plumpste auf den Rasen und landete geradewegs neben seinem Fisch. „Verzeih“, sprach er und schaute ihm dabei nicht in die Augen. „Ich weiß auch nicht, was in mich gefahren ist. Es ist nur… dieser Körper… seitdem du diesen Wachstumsschub hattest, wirkst du plötzlich so unwiderstehlich.“ Aaron starrte absichtlich zwischen die Füße. Er schämt sich, erkannte Fynn kurzerhand. Er schämt sich wegen seinem Verhalten, wegen seinem Aussehen, wegen dem zwischen seinen Beinen. Fynn kam nicht drumherum, Aarons mächtigen Ständer zu bemerken. Vollkommen erregt stand er ihm in nichts nach, nicht einmal nachdem er in der gestrigen Nacht gewachsen war. Zwar mochte es Aaron an Muskeln fehlen, trotzdem führte er dort ein stolzes Biest zwischen den Beinen. „Würdest du mir…“ Aaron hielt einen Augenblick inne. „Würdest du mir trotzdem mit dem Fisch helfen? Ich kann ihn nicht alleine kochen, würde euch aber gerne einen Gefallen tun.“ „Den willst du kochen?“ Fynn schaute das Ungetüm an und schüttelte den Kopf. Aaron aber war voller Begeisterung. „Natürlich!“, entgegnete er kurzangebunden. „Noch nie etwas von Aarons speziellem Fischeintopf gehört?“ Fynn schwieg. „Na dann wird es aber höchste Zeit. Komm, ich zeige dir, wie man einen Fisch filetiert.“ Der Junge stand wieder aufrecht und vergaß dabei, das Ungetüm zwischen seinen Beinen. „K-könntest du dir vorher etwas überziehen?“ Wenngleich Fynn bereits einiges gesehen hatte, trieb ihn der Anblick von Aarons Gemächt, wie es direkt vor seinem Gesicht pulsierte, die Röte ins Gesicht. „Warum kümmerst du dich nicht darum, während ich deine Brust massieren?“ Aaron grinste schelmisch, brach daraufhin aber umgehend in lautes Gelächter aus. „Mache nur Spaß. Warte kurz.“ Natürlich macht er Spaß, dachte Fynn und schaute Aaron hinterher. Das macht er immer. Warum erregt es mich dann so sehr? Den Rest des Tages verbrachten Fynn und Aaron damit, den Fischeintopf vorzubereiten. Sie entfernten gemeinsam die Schuppen, schnitten das kostbare Fleisch in feine Stücke, nachdem Aaron ihm gezeigt hatte, wie man die Gräten mit einer feinen Pinzette herauszog. Den Fisch würzte er lediglich mit ein wenig Salz und Pfeffer, schnitt dazu ein paar Pilze und Kartoffeln und ließ das ganze dann eine Stunde über dem Feuer kochen. Danach riefen sie alle zusammen. Leif blieb allerdings im Zelt und vertröstete sie lediglich. Wenn es ihm besserginge, würde er sich eine Schüssel nehmen. Selbst Caleb blieb nur kurz und aß viel lieber etwas von seiner zähen Pampe. „Einen Fisch rühre ich nicht an“, sagte er und schüttelte angewidert den Kopf. „Schmecken bestimmt genauso wie sie riechen. Widerlich.“ Hast du mal an deiner eigenen Pampe gerochen? Während Fynn selber nur einen kleinen Bissen riskierte und schnell merkte, dass ihm Monstermakrele nicht schmeckte, verschlang Aaron den halben Eintopf. „Nichts schmeckt besser als die Frucht eigener, harter Arbeit.“ Er lachte und klopfte sich auf den prall gefüllten Bauch. Danach lauschten sie noch ein wenig den spannenden Geschichten, die Caleb ihnen zu erzählen hatte. Angeblich war er auf seinen sportlichen Wanderungen durch den Wald an einer baufälligen Hängebrücke vorbeigekommen. „Die meisten Holzstreben waren herausgebrochen, sonst wäre ich ja drüber gestiegen“, erzählte er enttäuscht. „Auf der anderen Seite hab ich ne hübsche Hütte gesehen. Was meint ihr? Ob es noch einen anderen Weg über den Fluss gibt?“ „Warum sollte dich das überhaupt interessieren?“ Aaron schleckte die letzten Fischreste aus seiner Schüssel, bevor er sie in einem Wasserbad versenkte. „Warum nicht?“, entgegnete Caleb. „Wenn das Abenteuer ruft, muss ein echter Mann folgen. Du stimmst mir doch zu, oder Fynn?“ Fynn schwieg. „Fynn?“ „Hm?“ Er hob den Kopf. Hat er mich was gefragt? Die ganze Zeit musste er an Leif und diesen übelriechenden Proteinbrei denken. Nicht, dass er sich ne Lebensmittelvergiftung eingefangen hat. „Wisst ihr“, sprach er schließlich und stand auf. „Ich werde mich bereits zurückziehen. Leif scheint es nicht gut zu gehen und ich würde ihm gerne noch ein bisschen Gesellschaft leisten.“ „Der wird schon wieder“, bemerkte Caleb. „Nach seinem ersten Bissen, lag mein Bruder auch erstmal für nen paar Tage flach.“ Ein paar Tage? Was zum Teufel hast du uns vorgesetzt? Fynn musste sich unbedingt nochmal bei seinem Freund entschuldigen. Hätte er gewusst, dass Caleb sie zu vergiften versuchte, er hätte ihn niemals dazu gedrängt, auch nur einen Löffel in den Mund zu nehmen. Hastig öffnete er den Reisverschluss des Zeltes und schritt herein. Im Inneren war die Luft muffig und stank nach Schweiß. Ein einsames Lämpchen brannte in der hinteren Ecke und schien auf Leifs Gesicht. Der Junge war kreidebleich und hatte sich vollkommen in den Schlafsack zurückgezogen. Schweiß perlte auf seiner Stirn und verlief zwischen den einzelnen Falten. „Wie geht es dir?“, fragte Fynn und zog das Zelt hinter sich zu. „Echt beschissen“, keuchte Leif. „Mein Körper fühlt sich an, als würde er jeden Augenblick in Flammen aufgehen und ich weiß nicht, aber… ich glaube, wir sollten deinen Vater anrufen.“ „Wieso denn das?“ Fynn ging neben seinem Freund nieder und strich ihm das feuchte Haar aus dem Gesicht. „Soll ich dir Wasser bringen? Vielleicht hilft eine Abkühlung?“ „Das meine ich nicht“, entgegnete Leif. Röte stieg ihm ins Gesicht. „Was denn dann?“ „Warte. Ich zeig’s dir.“ Daraufhin richtete Leif allmählich den Oberkörper auf. Die Decke glitt ihm von den Schultern und gab die weiterhin schmale Statur seines Freundes preis: Eine drahtige Brust, knochige Schultern und dünne Arme. Also hat es nicht gewirkt. Das alles umsonst. Fynn ärgerte sich über seine eigene Naivität, doch vielmehr ärgerte er sich, dass er seinen Freund zu solch einer Dummheit gezwungen hatte. Er wollte es nicht. Und trotzdem haben wir ihn dazu gedrängt. „Bitte erschrick nicht“, sprach sein Freund und zog die Decke von seinen Beinen. Fynn weitete die Augen. Zum Vorschein kam Leifs Gemächt, ein pulsierendes Biest, dass steif gegen seinen Bauch schlug und knapp unter der Brust stoppte. Es maß eine halbe Armlänge und war auch beinahe so breit wie einer. Mit jedem Herzschlag schien es zum Leben zu erwachen. Das verstehe ich nicht. Fynn beugte sich nach vorne und betrachtete die glühende Spitze. Wieso ist seiner fast 40 cm lang? Was hat er gemacht? „Du solltest ihm besser nicht zu nahekommen.“ Leif lächelte verlegen, ein Lächeln, das bald verschwunden war. Stattdessen stieß er ein Stöhnen aus und blies heiße Luft durch seine Nasenlöcher. „Scheiße“, hauchte er. Seine Hände umklammerten sein Gemächt, umfassten den Schaft und ließen die Adern darauf anschwellen. „Es fängt schon wieder an…“ Fynn traute seinen Augen nicht, als der Schaft seines Freundes einen weiteren Zentimeter an Länge gewann. Etwas tief in seinem Inneren wollte zugreifen und den Wachstumsschub am eigenen Leib erfahren. Er selbst war binnen weniger Sekunden hart geworden und zupfte an dem Stoff seiner Shorts. Scheiße man. Was tue ich hier? Mein eigener Freund hat ein Monsterteil, das selbst einen Stier vor Neid erblassen lassen würde und ich fasste mir zwischen den eigenen Schritt? Bin ich verrückt geworden? Seine Finger berührten den Kopf von Leifs Gemächt. „Nicht“, hauchte der Junge und stöhnte auf. Es glüht förmlich und trotzdem… seine Hände umschlossen den Schaft und spürten das Blut darin kochen. So… groß. Leif legte derweil den Kopf in den Nacken. „Ich habe nie darum gebeten.“ Tränen flossen an seinen Augen herab und vermengten sich mit dem Schweiß, der ihm auf die Brust tropfte. Überall auf seinem Körper glitzerte der Schweiß. Die drahtigen Muskeln darunter kamen zum Vorschein. Die Haut spannte sich straff darüber und hatte eine feurige Farbe angenommen. Ich habe ihn noch nie so angespannt gesehen. Gefällt es ihm oder hat er Schmerzen? Plötzlich erkannte Fynn, dass Leif vor einem weiteren Wachstumsschub stand. Diesmal allerdings betraf es nicht sein Glied, sondern den Rest seines Körpers. „Ich will das nicht“, schluchzte Leif. „Psssh.“ Fynn versuchte ihn zu beruhigen. „Wehre dich nicht dagegen.“ Er selbst stülpte das Shirt über den Kopf und präsentierte Leif seinen neuen Körper. Zärtlich strich er über dessen Arm, fühlte die Schweißperlen darauf kondensieren und das Blut darunter kochen. Dann, ganz sachte und langsam, führte er Leifs Hand auf seine Brust, ließ die zittrigen Finger über die Muskeln wandern und zudrücken. „Sag mir, fühlt sich das nicht gut an?“ Er schaute seinem Freund tief in die blauen Augen und führte die Hand weiter nach unten, wo sie die oberste Reihe seines Sixpacks traf. Leif schniefte. „Schon… aber…“ Ein tiefes Grollen kam aus dem Inneren seines Körpers und ließ diesen erzittern. Mittlerweile wirkte Leif wie nach einem anstrengenden Workout. All seine Muskeln hatten sich vollgesogen mit Blut und wirkten kräftiger und praller denn je. „Kein aber“, flüstere Fynn und gab seinem Freund einen Kuss auf die Stirn. Er wird sich daran gewöhnen. Ganz bestimmt. „Komm.“ Er öffnete die Arme und empfing seinen Freunden mit einer ausgiebigen Umarmung. „Du brauchst keine Angst zu haben. Ich bleibe bei dir.“ Leif antworte nicht. Stattdessen warf er den Kopf nach hinten. Zuerst geschah es in Leifs Brust. Wie auch einst bei Fynn blähte sie sich allmählich auf, füllte sich mit steinharter Muskelmasse, bis sie die Größe zweier Handballhälften erreicht hatte. Dennoch war ein Ende nicht in Sicht. So kräftig und prall. Als nächstes folgten Arme und Schultern. Dünn umklammerten sie seinen Körper, doch allmählich schwollen sie an, wurden kräftiger und kräftiger. Mit jedem Herzschlag tauchten neue Muskeln auf. Fynn fühlte, wie zwei kräftige Trizepse ihn allmählich zerdrückten und ihm den Atem raubten. Dennoch hielt er an seinem Freund fest. Schließlich hatte er es ihm versprochen. Leifs Schultern waren das einzige, was diese mächtigen Arme übertreffen konnte. Erst schwollen sie auf die Größe zweier Handbälle, doch schon bald hatten sie die Formfestigkeit von gusseisernen Kanonenkugeln erreicht. Beinahe gedankenverloren ließ Fynn seine Hände über die Schultern wandern und erfühlte drei perfekt separierte Muskelsegmente. Plötzlich stieß Leif ein tiefes Knurren aus. Allmählich schien er sich an den Gedanken, einen Körper voller Muskeln zu haben, zu gewöhnen. Mit weit aufgerissenen Augen verfolge Fynn das Spektakel und erkannte voller Schreck, dass sein Freund allmählich an Größe dazu gewann. Während kräftige Latissimi die weiterhin anschwellenden Arme zu beiden Seiten wegdrückten und ihm ein monströses Erscheinen verliehen, wuchs Leif über ihn hinweg. Spätestens als er ihm direkt auf die prall gefüllten Brustmuskeln starren konnte, auf die einzelnen Muskelfasern, die darin zum Leben erwachten und das Fleisch unter der Haut zum Tanzen brachten, wusste er, dass sie übertrieben hatten. Aber warum? Warum schlägt Calebs Zeug so gut an? „Siehst du das, Fynn?“, staunte Leif. „Es hört nicht mehr auf. Ich werde immer größer. Und ich muss zugeben…“ Seine Beine explodierten mit schierer Muskelmasse und hüllten die Knochen darunter vollkommen ein. „Es fühlt sich so verdamm gut an. Mein ganzer Körper… meine Arme wirken wie Baumstämme.“ Er löste die Umarmung und präsentierte die wundervollsten Arme, die Fynn jemals zu Gesicht bekommen hatte. Adern pulsierten darauf. Zwei perfekt geformte Handbälle. „Mein Bauch… scheiße…“ Leif stöhnte als sein Gemächt zwischen seinen Brustmuskeln eingeklemmt wurde. Hinter dem Schaft verborgen lagen sechs wohl geformte Bauchmuskeln. Wie eine Hügellandschaft durchzogen von tiefen Klüften zeichneten sie sich unter der Haut ab und schimmerten dank des Schweißes. „Bitte“, flehte Leif. „Mach, dass es nie wieder aufhört.“ Sein Kopf traf auf die Zeltdecke. Wieder wurden seine Muskeln mit Zement gefüllt „Nein, Leif, entgegnete Fynn. „Du hast genug.“ „Genug?“ Leif richtete sich allmählich auf und nutzte seine neuen kräftigen Arme um durch den Stoff des Zeltes zu brechen. Im Sitzen reichte ihm Fynn gerade einmal bis zu den Knien. Einst hatte er seinen Freund um wenige Zentimeter überragt. Nun lastete Leifs schwerer Schatten auf seinen Schultern. „Gefällt dir mein neues Aussehen nicht?“ Leif präsentierte all seinen Muskeln, indem er einen Most-Muscular vollzog. Fuck. Der Anblick alleine reichte aus, dass Fynn kam. Sein Gemächt explodierte mit Lust. Ein Schuss nach dem anderen füllte seine Unterwäsche und ließ ihn verlegen zurück. Scheiße. Warum turnt mich der Anblick so an. Erschöpft richtete er sich auf. Selbst, wenn er stand, reichte er seinem Freund bloß bis zur unteren Brustmuskulatur. „Du bist ein Monstrum.“ Leif blickte an sich herab. Immerhin ließ der Wachstumsschub endlich nach. Verlegen befühlte er seine neuen Armmuskeln und kicherte unschuldig. „Vielleicht hast du Recht. Vielleicht habe ich ein wenig übertrieben.“ „Ein wenig ist gut.“ Aaron kam aus seinem Zelt hervorgekrochen. „Verdammte scheiße. Leif man. Du bist ein Monster! Nicht, dass ich über dich richten dürfte.“ Fynn verstand nicht und wandte sich deshalb um. „Wie ist das möglich?“, sprach er mit heruntergelassener Kinnlade. Auch Aaron hatte signifikant an Körpergröße dazu gewonnen. Beide waren sie gleich auf, nur hatte Aaron mehr Muskelmasse am Körper. Eine wohl geformte Brust, zwei kräftige Arme, ein Eightpack und Schultern so breit wie er einst lang gewesen war. Und scheiße man… war das? Ja. Zwischen seinen Beinen hing ein Biest von einem Glied. Die Saat der Lust tropfte am schlaffen Schaft herab. „Bist wohl genau so überrascht wie ich“, entgegnete Aaron und schritt an ihm vorbei. Jeder seiner Schritte brachte den Boden zum Erbeben. Sein Blick fiel auf Leifs pulsierendes Gemächt. „Sag bloß, du hast ihm nicht dabei geholfen?“ Er grinste schelmisch und Leif errötete. „Beruhig euch, Leute.“ Fynn kreuzte die Arme vor der Brust. „Wir müssen uns etwas einfallen lassen, bevor…“ „Bevor was?“ So viel dazu. Caleb zog die Brauen tief ins Gesicht. „Ich denke, ihr alle schuldet mir eine Erklärung.“ Kapitel 4: „Ich bin bitter enttäuscht von euch und besonders von dir, Fynn.“ Caleb warf ihm einen Blick zu, der ihn gefrieren ließ. „Ich mag ein Sportfanatiker mit der entsprechenden Muskelmasse sein, aber das ist alles komplett natürlich. Das Zeug, was ihr gegessen habt? Nicht mehr als ein Gemisch aus rohen Eiern, Putenbrust, Milch und Hülsenfrüchten. Niemals würde ich mich mit irgend nem Zeug zu pumpen, das mich groß und dämlich macht.“ Diesmal wandte er sich direkt an Aaron, der trotz seiner Größe wie ein kleiner Junge zusammengesunken war. „Das Gefühl, deinen eigenen Körper dank harter Arbeit im Fitnessstudio wachsen zu sehen, ist doch das beste an einem Workout. Keine Abkürzungen. Keine Tricks.“ Er seufzte und warf den Kopf nach hinten. Das feurige Haar folgte dabei der Bewegung des Windes, der zur Nacht hin stärker geworden war. Alle schwiegen sie. Aaron und Leif hatten ihre Männlichkeit mit einer Decke verdeckt, sodass lediglich ihre nackten Oberkörper zu sehen waren. Das Feuer der Öllampe warf schwere Schatten auf ihre Muskeln und ließ sie größer und gewaltiger wirken als sie es jemals gewesen waren. Während Leif vor Scharm wie eine Tomate glühte und sich schüchtern hinter Fynn verbarg, hatte Aaron seit ihrem Treffen kein einziges Wort mehr gesprochen. Stattdessen starrte er lediglich zwischen die eigenen Beine, schob die vertrocknete Erde mit seinen Füßen zu einem Haufen zusammen. Wir sind schon ein jämmerlicher Haufen. Ein Zweimeter-Riese, der sich weiterhin wie mein kleiner und schüchterner Freund verhält und grübelnder Muskelberg, der seine Stimme verloren hat. Nur er allein weiß, was in seinem Kopf vorgeht. Fynn seufzte. „Hör zu“, sprach er und streichelte dabei die kräftigen Beine seines Freundes. „Das alles war nur ein großes Missgeschick. Hätten wir geahnt, dass es…“ Ein Blick auf seinen Freund genügte. „Hätten wir gewusst, dass es derart ausatmet, wir hätten niemals…“ „Macht euch keine Vorwürfe“, entgegnete Caleb kurzerhand. „Ihr hattet keine Ahnung.“ „Und du hast sie?“ Aarons kühle Stimme hätte ihn beinahe vor Schreck umgeworfen. Caleb nickte. „Während ihr eure… Muskelexzesse hattet, habe ich in meinem Handy ein wenig recherchiert. Wegen der verlassenen Hütte oben am Tannengipfel. Offenbar haben ein paar verdammt schlaue Typen dort oben irgendwelche Spielchen getrieben. Im Darkweb gehen Gerüchte eines militärischen Forschungsprojekts umher. Die Foren waren letztes Jahr voll davon.“ „Und was hat das mit uns zu tun?“ Aaron zeigte sich unbeeindruckt. „Nun warte doch mal ab“, knurrte Caleb. „Die haben Experimente durchgeführt. Erst an Tieren, dann an Menschen. Der Fisch, den du vorhin gegessen hast, der muss auch von dort oben stammen. Angeblich wurden die Forschungen eingestellt und das Zeug vernichtet.“ Das brachte Fynn auf eine Idee. „Glaubst du, die haben das Zeug in den Fluss gekippt?“ „Würde zumindest erklären, warum du und Leif auch gewachsen seid. Die Strömung muss das Zeug bis zu deinem geliebten Tümpel getragen haben. Das Wasser hat es verdünnt und du hattest bloß Hautkontakt, weswegen du nicht gleich auf Baumhöhe gewachsen bist. Dein Freund allerdings hatte weniger Glück.“ Leif lächelte unschuldig. Wieder stieg ihm die Röte ins Gesicht. „Wie viele Flaschen hat er nochmal getrunken?“ „Fünf“, hauchte er kurz angebunden. „Es waren fünf volle Flaschen.“ „Das heißt, wenn wir diese Tümpel finden, können wir mehr wachsen?“ Aaron musste sich ordentlich zurückhalten. Seine Hände zogen die Decke über seinen Beinen straff. Was hat dieser Idiot schon wieder vor? „Noch mehr wachsen?“ Fynn hatte sich wohl verhört. „Du willst… nein. Auf gar keinen Fall.“ „Fynn, hat Recht“, stimmte Caleb zu. „Wer weiß, was das Zeug tatsächlich mit euch anstellt. Außerdem… was ist mit deinen Eltern? Wie willst du ihnen deinen plötzlichen Wachstumsspurt erklären?“ „Nicht nur unsere Eltern werden Fragen stellen.“ Leif schluckte ängstlich. „Was ist, wenn die, die das damals in die Wege geleitet haben, davon erfahren und uns zum Schweigen bringen wollen?“ Daran hatte Fynn noch gar nicht gedacht. Seine Hand ruhte weiterhin auf Leifs Bein und er spürte, wie diesem ein Schauer durch den Körper jagte. Er fürchtet sich, erkannte Fynn. „Ich werde nicht zulassen, dass sie dir etwas antun.“ Um seiner Aussage mehr Wert zu verleihen, schnappte er sich Leifs Hand und drückte sie mit der seinen. Das schien ihn ein wenig zu beruhigen. Gut. „Wir werden morgen früh zur Berghütte aufbrechen. Bis dein Vater zurückkommt, bleiben uns noch gut zwölf Stunden.“ Caleb gähnte verschlafen. „Gute Idee“, ergänzte Fynn. „Vielleicht hat, wer auch immer dort oben war, etwas Nützliches zurückgelassen.“ „Gut, dass wir das besprochen haben.“ Caleb stand auf und streckte sich. „Morgen um sechs brechen wir auf. Bis dahin sollte jeder von euch eine ordentliche Mütze Schlaf bekommen.“ Er lenkte sein Augenmerk auf ihr zerstörtes Zelt. „Fynn und Leif können in meinem Zelt schlafen.“ „Und was ist mit dir?“, fragte Leif kurzerhand. „Ich schlafe mit Aaron zusammen. Sieht nur zu, dass ihr in dieser Nacht wirklich nichts mehr treibt. Ich verstehe ja, dass so ein großer und gewaltiger Körper äußerst erregend ist, aber wir haben nur noch die beiden Zelte.“ Er wandte sich nun an Aaron, der über beide Ohren strahlte. „Das gleiche gilt auch für dich. Erwische ich dich einmal mit deiner Hand in meiner oder deiner Hose, kastriere ich dich mit einer Nagelpfeile.“ Am nächsten Morgen standen sie tatsächlich alle geschniegelt und gestriegelt vor dem Pfad, der sie höher und tiefer in den Wald hineinführen würde. Während man Aaron mit Leichtigkeit in ein Shirt und eine luftige Jogginghose von Caleb gesteckt hatte (er mochte ein wenig bulkier darin aussehen als der ursprüngliche Besitzer), trug Leif lediglich eine provisorische Tracht aus Decken. Irgendwie hatte Fynn sie ihm um die Hüfte und über Brust und Schultern gewickelt, sodass er ein wenig wie einer dieser Römer aussah. Wirklich wohl fühlte er sich darin allerdings nicht. Wenigstens muss er nicht nackt gehen. „Seid ihr alle bereit?“ Caleb zurrte das Stirnband enger, das seine stachligen Haare fixierte und ließ die Schultern kreisen. „Bis zur Hütte sind es gut anderthalb Stunden Fußmarsch. Wir werden nur zum Pinkeln rasten.“ „Kann ich nicht doch vielleicht hierbleiben.“ Leifs Stimme drang zart aus dem Hintergrund. Fynn schaute ihm direkt auf die linke Brust, die durch eine offene Stelle in der Deckentracht hervorragte. In der gestrigen Nacht hatte er sich mehrmals zurückhalten müssen. Mitten im Schlaf hatte Leif seine mächtigen Arme um ihn geschlossen und ihn härter werden lassen als jemals zuvor. „Du wirst mitkommen, ob du willst oder nicht“, betonte Caleb. „Nach allem geht es hier vor allem um deinen übernatürlichen Körper.“ Aaron schmunzelte. „Wer weiß? Vielleicht finden wir noch was, um uns größer zu machen.“ Calebs Blick alleine genügte, um ihn zum Schweigen zu bringen. „Sonst noch irgendwelche brillanten Ideen? Keiner? Gut.“ Fortan ging es stets bergauf. Über die Nacht hatte sich der Himmel über ihren Köpfen zugezogen. Die Luft war schwül und lag Fynn schwer in der Lunge, während er einen Fuß vor den anderen setzte, seinen massiven Freund stets im Blick. Bei jedem Schritt verformten sich die Rückenmuskeln, passten sich der Bewegung an. Ein Schauspiel, das ihn erregen würde, wenn der Weg vor ihnen nicht so anstrengend und schwer wäre. Bloß einmal hielten sie an, um Wasser zu lassen. Trotz seiner neuen kräftigen Beine nutzte Fynn die Gelegenheit um sich auf einem Baumstumpf niederzulassen und einen Schluck aus seiner Wasserflasche zu nehmen. „Willst du auch?“, fragte er Leif. Der Junge nickte. Bevor er die Flasche allerdings ansetzte, zögerte er. „Die kommt doch nicht aus dem Tümpel, oder?“ Das amüsierte ihn. „Den Fehler mache ich nicht zweimal. Hab’s aus dem Fluss geholt und abgekocht. Caleb hat bereits daraus getrunken. Also sollte es sicher sein.“ Leif verschnaufte und trank sie zur Hälfe leer. Danach ging sie auch schon weiter. Sie passierten die baufällige Hängebrücke und starrten den tosenden Fluss herab. Steine wie Speere ragten aus den schaumigen Wassermassen hervor. Ein schlagkräftiges Argument für sie, nicht den Weg über die morschen Holzleisten zu wählen. Stattdessen wählten sie einen Umweg, der sie dich an den Klippenvorbeiführte. Bald schon erreichten sie ein Schild, dass Hoffnung verhieß. Demnach gab es einen weiteren Übergang keine hundert Meter von ihrem Standort entfernt. Inzwischen wurde es auch höchste Zeit. Der Himmel verdunkelte sich und erste mutige Tropfen stürzten sich in die Tiefe, wo sie ihre Körper benetzten. Als sie die andere Hängebrücke überschritten, musste sich Fynn von Leif tragen lassen. Auf wagemutige Balanceakte in schwindelerregenden Höhe hatte er noch nie sonderlich gut reagiert. Die Blässe stand ihm ins Gesicht geschrieben. Hätte er gefrühstückt, wäre es ihm sicherlich hochgekommen. Eine weitere halbe Stunde später erreichten sie endlich ihr Ziel. Gerade rechtzeitig, denn der Himmel riss nun vollkommen auf. Zu lauwarmen Regentropfen gesellten sich kräftige Windböen, die an den Wipfel hoher Tannen zehrten, und tiefes Donnergrollen. Jetzt lag es an Fynn, seinen Freund schützend in die alte Holzhütte zu führen. Schon damals hatte Leif lieber die Decke über den Kopf geschlungen als vor einem weit geöffneten Fenster zu stehen und dem Orchester des Sturmes zu lauschen. Heute bangte er dank seiner neu gewonnen Größe umso mehr um sein Leben. Aarons Spruch, er sei nun ein wandelnder Blitzableiter half dabei überhaupt nicht. Die Tür zur Holzhütte stand verdächtig offen. „Hallo?“, rief Fynn, indes er vorsichtig hereinschritt. „Ist jemand da?“ Einzig und allein der Wind antwortete ihm, ein Heulen, das durch Mark und Knochen fuhr. „Verlassen, wie ich’s euch gesagt habe.“ Caleb jagte ihm einen Todesschreck ein. Das Herz rutschte ihm in die Hose und er hätte aufgeschrien, wenn nicht all seine Freunde anwesend gewesen wären. Reiß dich zusammen, verdammt! „Ich schlage vor, wir schauen uns hier ein wenig um. Ich kümmere mich um den Dachboden.“ Caleb zeigte auf ein altes Geflecht aus morschen Stufen, die sich zur finsteren Decke hinauf wandten. „Dann nehme ich den Keller!“ Aaron rannte davon, aber Fynn packte sein Handgelenk und hielt ihn auf. „Und wir kommen mit“, knurrte er. Den lasse ich hier nicht alleine. „Und wer kümmert sich dann ums Erdgeschoss?“ „Leif, wärst du wohl so freundlich?“ Leif nickte stillschweigend. Aaron stammelte daraufhin irgendeinen Fluch. „Dann haben wir wohl ein Date“, lächelte Fynn und folgte Aaron durch den verlassenen Korridor. Über einen Abstieg gelangten sie schließlich in den Keller. Unten war es sogar noch unheimlicher als oben. Nicht einmal das Unwetter konnte diesen Ort noch erhellen. Das Grollen hingegen wurde zu seinem ständigen Wegbegleiter. „Was glaubst du? Werden wir etwas finden?“ Irgendwie musste er sich ablenken und auf andere Gedanken bringen. „Irgendwas finden wir bestimmt.“ Aaron hatte seine Handytaschenlampe eingeschaltet und leuchtete ihnen den Weg. Der Fußboden war anders als erwartet nicht aus Holz gefertigt, sondern mit sterilen Fliesen ausgelegt. Selbiges galt für die Wände. Unterhalb der morschen Decke hatte sich allerdings eine schwarze Schimmelschicht gebildet. Was auch immer einst hier geschehen war, lag nunmehr in der Vergangenheit. „Hier ist was!“ Aaron deutete auf einen großen Raum und eilte voraus. Wenn etwas in dieser alten Berghütte auf geheime Forschungsaktivitäten hindeuten sollte, dann musste es dieser Raum gewesen sein. An den Wänden standen reihenweise Tische und Regale. Einige von ihnen waren noch mit Reagenzgläsern, Erlenmeyerkolben und anderen sonderbaren Behältnissen gefüllt. Eine Konstruktion ließ auf eine Küche hindeuten. Die Töpfe hatte man allerdings sorgfältig zurückgestellt und vollständig gereinigt. Fynn stieß gegen ein Tischbein. Zeit für sein eigenes Handy. Das grelle Licht schien frontal auf einen eisernen Tisch, der Fynn am ehesten an einen Operationssaal erinnerte. Riemen hingen zu den Seiten herab. Einer war während der Prozedur offenbar gerissen. „Hier ist etwas!“, rief Fynn, aber Aaron schenkte ihm keine Beachtung. Vorsichtig beugte sich Fynn nach vorne. Mit all der befremdlichen Muskelmasse war es schwer, unter den Tisch zu greifen. Schließlich hielt er ein altes Dokument in den Händen. Die Zahlen darauf ließen ihn erschaudern. Hier hatte tatsächlich jemand an einem Serum geforscht und war offenbar erfolgreich gewesen. Eine Tabelle zeigte die Veränderung eines Testsubjekts auf. Vergrößerter Brustumfang, aufgeblähte Armmuskulatur, geschwollenes Genital und erhöhter Lusttrieb. Innerhalb einer Woche hatte sich das Gewicht der Person verdoppelt. Bilder zeigten Ausschnitte des Geschöpfs, das sie erschaffen hatten. Fynns Gemächt erwachte, während er die Finger über die kräftigen Brustmuskeln wandern ließ. Die haben Supermenschen erschaffen. Und offenbar hatten sie nicht über einen Rückweg nachgedacht. „Schau dir das mal an“, bemerkte Fynn und lief auf Aaron zu. Der Junge erschrak und wandte sich ihm blitzschnell zu. Hinter dem Rücken hielt er irgendetwas versteckt. „Was hast du da?“, fragte Fynn kritisch. Aaron lächelte unschuldig. „Nichts.“ „Zeig her.“ „Da ist nichts. Wirklich.“ Aaron blieb stur. In einem Moment der Unvorsichtigkeit konnte Fynn einen Blick auf das Gefäß erhaschen. Eine grünliche Flüssigkeit schimmerte darin. „Das ist doch nicht etwa…?“ „Ich will bloß einen Schluck nehmen!“ Ehe Aaron den Flaschenhals ansetzen konnte, hatte Fynn seine Hände umklammert. „Kommt gar nicht in Frage!“, protestierte er. „Ein Schluck davon und du bist jenseits jeder Rettung!“ „Vielleicht möchte ich gar nicht gerettet werden? Vielleicht möchte ich größer als ihr alle zusammen sein!“ „Du bist ein Idiot!“ „Aber ein Muskelidiot!“ Beide zehrten sie am Gefäß. Gleich einem Tauziehwettbewerb wanderte das Gefäß mal in die eine und mal in die andere Richtung. Fynns Muskeln übersäuerten bereits und trotzdem wollte er nicht nachgeben. Aaron mochte mittlerweile stärker als er gewesen sein, aber Fynn hatte die größere Willenskraft. „Lass los!“, knurrte Aaron. „Wie du willst!“ Daraufhin ließ Fynn das Gefäß los. Aaron, der nicht damit gerechnet hatte, taumelte nach hinten und verlor den Halt. Klirr. „Was hast du getan?!“ Sein Blick fiel auf die Scherben zu seinen Füßen. „Du hast es verschüttet.“ „Leute.“ Leifs Stimme drang an sie heran. Sein Gesicht war von grünem Schleim überzogen. „Was ist das für ein Zeug?“ Plötzlich riss er die Augen auf. „Nein. Bitte nicht.“ Fynn traute sich nicht zu antworten. Allmählich verschwand die grüne Substanz, indem sie in Leifs Haut einzog. Scheiße man. Das ist gerade nicht passiert. „Das ist so unfair!“, grummelte Aaron und verschränkte die Arme vor der Brust. „Was tust du hier unten?! Solltest du nicht oben sein?“ Fynns Stimme klang wie ein Paukenschlag. „Ich habe oben nichts gefunden und wollte runterkommen und euch bei eurer Suche helfen.“ Schweiß perlte bereits auf Leifs Stirn. Sein ganzer Körper schimmerte im Licht seiner Handytaschenlampe. „Fuck.“ Er schnaufte. „Fynn, bitte, du musst es irgendwie…“ Ein Stöhnen kam über seine Lippen. „Mhmmm…“ Heißer Dampf stieg von seinem Körper auf. Tief in seiner Brust klang der dumpfe Paukenschlag seines Herzens. Badum. Badum. Ein Trommelschlag, der lauter und lauter wurde und seine Veränderung ankündigte. „Ungh… fuck…“ Unter Leifs Deckentracht regte sich etwas. Eine große Beule zeichnete sich ab und wuchs mit jeder verstreichenden Sekunde in die Länge. „Ahh… scheiße. Bitte. Fynn…“ Plötzlich wuchs Leif in die Höhe. Lediglich wenige Zentimeter, doch es reichte aus, um die Spitze seines Gemächts unter der Decke hervorstehen zu lassen. „Wehre dich nicht dagegen“, hauchte Fynn. Der Anblick der Spitze ließ ihn umgehend hart werden. So groß. Er griff in seinen Schritt und umfasste seinen eigenen Schaft. Leifs Gemächt musste mittlerweile so dick und lang wie ein kräftiger Männerarm gewesen sein. Trotzdem war kein Ende in Sicht. Während draußen der Sturm seinen Höhepunkt erreichte, Donner und Blitze gleichermaßen um die Vorherrschaft rangen, stieg heißer Dampf von Leifs Körper auf. Schweiß hatte das Gewand, das er trug, dunkel eingefärbt, sodass es inzwischen wie eine zweite Haut an seinem Körper haftete. Darunter erkannte Fynn die ersten Veränderungen, ein Beben, das Leifs Körper erschütterte und sich allmählich ausbreitete, bis es ihn in komplette Ekstase versetzt hatte. „Ich wehre mich nicht dagegen“, stöhnte sein Freund. Weitere Zentimeter gesellten sich zu seiner Körpergröße dazu. „Im Gegenteil.“ Langsam hob er den Arm, auf dass sich die Decke über seine mächtige Brust spannte und erste Fasern rissen. „Ich kann es fühlen. Eine unglaubliche Kraft. Sie fließ durch meinen Körper.“ Er spannte seinen rechten Arm an und ließ Muskeln von der Größe eines Volleyballs anschwellen. „Mit jedem Atemzug fühlt er sich gewaltiger an…“ Als hätte er es kontrollieren können, füllte sich sein Arm mit noch mehr Muskelmasse. Muskeln, die Fynn noch nie zuvor gesehen hatte, kamen zum Vorschein und wurden von größeren Muskeln verschluckt. Sein Trizeps verlieh seinem Arm die Größe eines Beines und war so mächtig, dass Fynn beide Hände zum Befühlen gebraucht hätte. Der Bizeps, inzwischen von der Größe eines prall gefüllten Basketballs, pulsierte mit jedem Donnergrollen und ging nahtlos in einen Vorderarm über, der allmählich die Größe einer von Fynns Waden annahm. „Scheiße“, keuchte Leif. „Es fühlt sich so verdammt gut an. Meine Brust…“ Fynn hörte das Reißen von Fasern und schaute hinauf zur Brust seines Freundes, welche sich vor ihm aufbäumte. „Warum macht es mich so hart?“ Mit beiden Händen fühlte er über die prallen Muskeln, tastete über die reißenden Muskelfasern, die Raum für größere, stabilere Fasern schafften. Jeder Teil seiner Brust schien den anderen übertrumpfen zu wollen. Wenn die untere Brust an Fülle und Gewicht dazugewann, holte die mittlere auf, bloß um schließlich von der oberen verschlungen zu werden. Wie zwei Hälften einer Globuskugel zeichneten sich die Brustmuskeln unter der eingerissenen Decke ab. „Ich halte es nicht mehr aus“, stöhnte Leif und fing an, die Decke entzwei zu reißen. Derweil stießen seine Schultern zum Wettkampf der Muskeln dazu. Fuck. Sind das wirklich seine Schultern? Fynn hatte sie als massive Kanonenkugeln in Erinnerung gehabt, aber mittlerweile übertrafen sie selbst einen Medizinball. Jedes Muskelsegment hatte ein eigenständiges Leben entwickelt. Seine neuen Schultern verliehen Leif eine unnatürliche Breite. Er stieß gegen ein Seitenregal und zerdrückte es schlichtweg unter seiner Kraft. „Aaron!“, rief Fynn kurzerhand, als er sich für einen kurzen Augenblick von der Verwandlung seines Freundes loslösen konnte. Aaron schaute mit seinem Gemächt in der Hand zu und schenkte ihm nur so wenig Beachtung wie unbedingt möglich. „Du musst Caleb warnen!“ „Wieso?“, entgegnete Aaron. „Mach es einfach!“ Fynn hatte keine Zeit für solche Spielchen und Aaron schien den Ernst der Lage zu erkennen. „Wie du willst“, grummelte er, versteckte sein Gemächt in der Hose und zwängte sich an Leif vorbei in die Freiheit. „Aber du bist mir was schuldig! Nach allem hätte ich das sein können!“ „Scheiße man…“ Leif stieß ein tiefes Grollen aus. Mittlerweile hatte er die Hände um sein Glied geschlungen. Es pulsierte gleich einem lebendig gewordenen Biest und hatte die Größe eines ausgewachsenen Mannes erreicht. Während es zur Decke ragte, schienen weitere Muskeln auf Leifs Körper aufzutauchen. Der Junge spürte es und lenkte Fynns Aufmerksamkeit auf seinen Rücken. Wieder rissen Fasern und binnen weniger Sekunden explodierten zwei gigantische Latissimi aus der Decke hervor. Vollkommen nackt stand sein Freund nun vor ihm, ein mächtiger Rücken, der von einer Laborwand zur anderen ragte. „Verzeih mir, Fynn“, hauchte Leif und krümmte sich nach vorne, als sein Kopf die Decke berührte, „aber ich kann nicht länger.“ Seine Finger drückten zu und ließen ihn aufstöhnen. „Ich muss es einfach tun.“ Während Leif damit beschäftigt war, sein eigenes Gemächt zu massieren, ragte ihm Fynn inzwischen gerade einmal bis zum Bauchnabel. Ein steinharter Wall von Bauchmuskeln hatte ihn beinahe vollkommen verschlungen. Acht perfekt voneinander getrennte Segmente zählte Fynn, acht Segmente, die größer und kräftiger als seine geschlossene Faust waren, acht Segmente, die ihn zum Anfassen, zum Berühren einluden. Nein, sagte er sich selbst. Ich darf nicht… ich sollte nicht… sollte ihn nicht ausnutzen. Sein Glied zuckte in seiner Hose, nachdem Leif noch einmal an Höhe dazugewann und sich erste Risse in der Decke formten. „Meine Beine“, stöhnte Leif. „Fuck. So groß. So stark.“ Von Leifs Stimme gelenkt schaute Fynn nach unten. Scheiße man. Ein feuchter Fleck bildete sich dort, wo sein Glied gegen die Hose presste. Leifs Beine waren gigantisch, zwei Baumstämme, die er nicht länger umfassen konnte. Neben den Hauptmuskeln, die mit jedem Atemzug anschwollen und sich gegenseitig verdrängten, hatten sich kleinere Gruppen dazugesellt. Die Knie waren unter den Massen beinahe vollkommen verschwunden. Alleine die Waden waren breiter als sein eigener Rumpf und wurden sogar noch größer, als Leif donnernd auf die Knie sackte, um sich selbst mehr Raum zu verpassen. „Du musst mir helfen“, hauchte Leif. Er schnappte sich seinen Freund, eine Hand so groß wie sein eigener Rumpf und schob ihn dicht an sein pulsierendes Glied heran. „Bitte“, flehte Leif und presste die Hände gegen die Außenwände. Nicht mehr lange und er würde durch die Decke brechen. Inzwischen hatte Leif den Raum vollkommen ausgefüllt. Seine Schultern hatten die Größe zweier Lasterreifen angenommen und wurden lediglich von diesen massiven Brustmuskeln, die ihn mit ihren Schatten in Finsternis hüllten, übertrumpft. Ihm helfen? Fynn betrachtete den pulsierenden Schaft, gegen den ihn sein Freund unweigerlich geschoben hatte. Das Teil hatte die Festigkeit eines Baumstammes erreicht mit dem einzigen Unterschied, das das Leben darin förmlich explodierte. Zaghaft legte er die Arme darum und spürte, wie sein Freund erwachte und zufrieden grollte. „Das ist es“, stöhnte er und warf den Kopf nach hinten. Fynn schaute zu beiden Seiten und erkannte die mächtigen Beine, die ihn einhüllten. Wenige Sekunden später trafen Leifs Füße auf die Außenwand und schufen somit einen Durchbruch. „Mehr!“, grollte Leif, seine Stimme dem Nachhall eines Donners gleich. „Fester.“ Fuck. Fynn war so kurz davor, einzig und allein dank dieses spektakulären Anblicks zu kommen. Er fing an, das Gemächt seines Freundes voller Euphorie zu massieren. Inzwischen brach Leif durch die Decke, doch das hielt ihn nicht auf. In einer einzigen Bewegung, in welcher er seine Arme anspannte, riss er die nächste Außenwand ein. Mittlerweile musste er ein Monstrum von sechs Metern Höhe und fünf Metern breite gewesen sein. Ein Glied von der Länge eines Baumes gab die ersten Tropfen der Lust preis und verdeckte Bauchmuskeln, von denen jedes einzelne Segment so groß wie ein Medizinball war. „Mhmmmm…“, stöhnte Leif. „Hör nicht auf.“ Während Fynn weiterhin sein Glied massierte, fühlte Leif über seinen anschwellenden Arm, ließ ihn entspannen, um ihn mit neuer Größe zurückzuholen. „Ich bin… ahhh… scheiße…“ Dem Klang nach zu urteilen war Leif kurz vor seinem Abschluss. Fynn war schon vor einer Minutengekommen, was ihn nicht daran hinderte weiterhin hart zu bleiben. „Ich… ich…“ Leif stieß ein tiefes Grollen aus. Seine Füße brachen durch die nächste Außenwand. Von oben warfen grelle Blitze ihr Licht auf diesen monströsen Körper. „Fuck.“ Plötzlich verwandelte sich Leifs Glied in Stein. Noch einmal explodierten seine Muskeln mit Kraft. Seine Brust riss die Treppe ein, die zuvor zum Dachboden geführt hatte. Sein Rücken brach durch eine Fensterfront und ließ erste Regentropfen in den Keller hinein. Dann explodierte er selbst. Sein Gemächt gab eine Ladung nach der anderen frei. Eine gigantische Hand packte Fynn und hievte sie nach oben. Verängstigt schaute er mit an, wie Leifs ganzer Körper unter der Gewalt des Orgasmus kontrahierte und weiter anschwoll, bis er durch das Dach brach und das Haus vollständig zerstörte. Die weiße Saat der Lust floss an seinem Schaft herab und verschwand im tosenden Fluss. Nachdem der Orgasmus endlich abgeklungen war, schien auch Leifs Wachstumsschub ein Ende zu finden. Vorsichtig legte der Gigant seinen Freund auf seine Bauchmuskeln. Fynn konnte nicht einmal über die enormen Brustmuskeln hinwegsehen. „Das war gut“, keuchte Leif und lächelte unschuldig. Sein ganzer Körper strotzte vor Kraft. Ich habe ein Monster geschaffen, dachte Fynn und kletterte über die Bauchmuskeln und hüpfte über eine Rille zwischen der unteren und mittleren Partition. Der finale Wachstumsschub hatte seinen Freund in ein Monstrum von der Größe eines Hauses verwandelt. Er hatte das heißeste Monster geschaffen, dass er jemals gesehen hatte. Ein Muskelriese. Und er ist mein Freund. Fuck. Was gäbe ich dafür, mit ihm zu wachsen.
  20. Part One "Ah, Henri, just the person I was looking for!" As Henri bowed to his Captain, Treville bowed in reply and as he came up added "You have to be one of the most polite Musketeers it has been my honour to have in the corps" and when whispered in Henri's ear "Just lay off it in public otherwise people might twig that you are from England!" Henri smiled and he said that he would tone it down a little, knowing that the Captain was the only member of the corps who knew his true origin. "Now, down to business" continued the Captain, "I presume that you know the Duke of Buckingham is coming to visit next week as part of his, so called, diplomacy" Henri nodded and sighed to which the Captain replied "Yes, my feelings exactly. We both know what he is doing here. He wants to be alone with the Queen for as long as possible. There are times I wish he'd just leave her alone, but, well, you can't say no to love I guess, therefore I wanted to know if you could have a word with the Ultimates for me?" "All of them, sir?" asked Henri, "but sir, I really only know the Ultimate Musketeer" "True" replied the Captain, "but well, your skills at diplomacy are renowned, after all you are the person who delivered the King's Lights back to Phillip of Spain in perfect Spanish" "And what is the message that you would like me to relay to them, sir?" smiled Henri *** "Sorry?" asked Roger, later that evening as he and Porthos were gathered at Henri's digs, "the King wants the Ultimates to greet the Duke?" "That's right" replied Henri, "you see he's had some intelligence, and it's correct intelligence, that the Duke is bisexual at best and he thinks that if he were to see the Ultimates he might lose interest in the Queen and start paying more attention with them and therefore put the King's mind at ease!" "Well" chuckled Porthos, "I don't mind showing him what the Ultimate Titan can do!" "What is the Duke like?" asked Roger to which Henri replied, "Well, let's put it this way" and began a very detailed explanation highlighting the Duke's relationship with James I of England noting that "one letter from the Duke to the King said "whether you loved me now…better than at the time which I shall never forget at Farnham, where the bed's head could not be found between the master and his dog" so make of that what you will" but as he continued Roger started to lean in and said "And he's bisexual you think?" "I am certain of it!" replied Henri *** As the Duke of Buckingham entered the courtyard of the Louvre, he was greeted by the King and Queen in person and as tradition dictated he kneeled before the King, kissed his glove, stood up, kissed the Queen on the cheek and announced himself as "His Grace, George Villers, Duke of Buckingham" As they greeted each other, Roger, now in the guise of the Ultimate Cadet looked at the Duke and whispered "He looks nothing like a dog" which was met by a glare from Henri, as the Ultimate Musketeer, as the King brought the Duke to them. "Your Grace" said the King, "these three men are the strongest and most powerful member of my Musketeers" and with that he nodded to Henri who stepped forward, towering over the Duke by a good two feet, and announced "I am the Ultimate Musketeer, the most powerful member of the corps, this is the Ultimate Titan, the strongest man ever to live in the world" and with that Porthos, as his alter ego, stepped forward, "and this is the Ultimate Cadet, a man who desires to become what we both are!" As Roger stepped forward, the Duke's eyes opened wide and as he traced out the Ultimate Cadet's pecs, he moaned "Such a work of art" and as he was led away by the King towards the Palace, the Duke turned and blew a kiss to Roger prompting Henri to chuckle "Get your coat, Roger, I think you've pulled"
  21. 789

    A gift to remember

    Ok, so, first story…. I’ve been thinking about writing one of my own for a while but haven’t had the guts to do it until now. I apologize if there are errors in syntaxes, at school teachers don’t really specialize on cursing or sexual interaction. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Part 1 Well, it all first started pretty simple, when you think about it, most things usually do. First things first, name´s Christian, Chris for friends (if any). I’m a med student, top student but average in other aspects: 5’9’’, not athletic but not slim, hairy and I love it, and…. gay. However, schedules don’t really help my love life, nor my physique. That’s really frustrating since I’m attracted to muscular guys, but an average guy doesn’t attract much attention. I do get an occasional hook up, usually guys who are into hairy guys, but not anyone I yearn for. Then came one fateful afternoon. I got a call from an old friend. I was actually taken aback at first, and really tempted not to answer at first. You see, Jim, who I had once considered my best friend, hadn’t called me for at least 5 years. So, I was really surprised to hear his voice when I picked up the phone: -Hey Chris! What’s up man! -Well, life goes on you know? But I doubt you can notice that… -Come on, I know I’ve been a bad friend… -You can say that again -Jeez, I forget how ironic you can be when you’re mad. -Jim, anything else you wanna talk about besides my sarcasm? It’s already annoying having you talking to me as if it was yesterday when we last saw each other, but, it’s been 5 years. Five fucking years Jim! Where were you when I needed you the most?! -Easy man, I know I deserve this and more… -Really? -Let me talk, just as you tell other people -Fine – I hate when I’m stuck with my own morality – What do you want? -As I was saying before Mr. Resentful interrupted me, don’t say a word Chris –damn, he’s still got that ability to know when I will protest even before I try–, I know I’ve probably been the worst of friends. And I wanna make it up to you, or at least try. -Go on… -I know you’re a fan from Scheherazade’s stories. So, when I travelled to the Middle East… -You didn´t even leave the country! Filming a documentary in a Moorish building doesn’t count… -Shut up and listen man, you’ll make me loose the point. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted -he said this with a playful smirk while I could only turn my eyes on him-, in my journey I found a picturesque scenery for my film. As I was about to enter a local café, my attention was drawn to an old woman who was selling junk in the street. At first, I thought it would be the classical useless stuff and when I was about to leave, the old woman asked me: -Looking for something in particular young man? -Not really, I’m just filming here, and all this scenery reminded me of a friend. -Oh, I see. Good friend of yours? -Him? Absolutely! Me, well I’ve neglected a little -that’s when I almost killed him with my eyes-, …fine, I’ve neglected a lot our friendship. Would you let me continue instead of enjoying this “I am totally right” moment??!! -Sorry -I said with a malicious smile. I won’t deny I was enjoying where this was going. After clearing his throat, he continued: …and when I saw you I thought you might have something my friend would like. He’s a fan of the One Thousand Nights, maybe I could find an “I’m sorry present” for him. -Are you really sorry young man? -I truly am, I know actions speak louder than words, and I’ve really been inactive. That’s my major problem, and the main reason I want to do something to make it up to him! At this point, I wouldn’t have cared if he got me something or not, his speech was heartbreaking, at least from my point of view. -Interesting. I may have something that fits him. What can you tell me about your friend? It will make it easier to find the right choice. -Well, Chris is a really nice guy. Always taking care of people and, as he says, “trying to make people see their true potential”. I don’t know how he manages that though. But, as a matter of fact he’s been hurt for that same reason several times, as people don’t appreciate him. They take him for granted, just as I did… -I’ve got to admit Chris, I told her that with a lot of remorse, but let me continue- -Have you ever read Mardrus’ version of Scheherazade? -Nope, probably Chris has. -No wonder why this place reminded you of him. Well, as a matter of fact, it is said that Mardrus’ version is actually pretty accurate, as Scheherazade did live among us a long time ago. Obviously, he made changes to the story and he never found out everything -that’s when she got out this little box-. May I present you the magic ring that once belonged Scheherazade. You won’t find this story anywhere, as only Scheherazade, in her wisdom, kept many secrets from the world. As you know, Scheherazade was a young woman who told stories every night to her king, as she wished to save the women in her kingdom, as the king married a new wife every night and executed her in the morning as a punishment for his first wife, the late queen, who had cheated on him. The detail that no one has ever talked about is this magic ring. It is said, that Scheherazade asked the magic ring for a solution to stop the executions. As a result, she acquired the knowledge to tell amazing stories and devised the well-known plan. -Wow! Does it really work? -Of course, young man. There’s a requirement though: the person who attempts to use the ring must acquire it fair and square, have a pure heart and have a strong will. If not, the ring will lose its power forever. -Incredible! That would be an awesome gift! Can it really do that? But how? -Have a strong will, think about what your heart desires and it will come true. But if it doesn’t, it was a very nice story, wasn’t it? So, if you’re interested, it would be $20.00 young man. -And that’s how I got your gift! -Ok…… I’m not really sure about it though. Besides, how are you sure it will fit? -Oh come on, you are the person with the strongest will I know. You never gave up, not after all the troubles you’ve had: mean classmates, that crazy girl that stalked you, …the loss of your parents. Come on man! At least try it on! It’s blue…. Your favorite color… That was the moment when I opened the little box he was giving me. It contained a silver ring with a blue stone, a sapphire maybe, or at least intended to be one. It had writings all over it, seemingly in Arabic. It looked nice, and I couldn’t name it, but I felt a connection to the ring. Wait a minute, a connection?! What was I thinking?! It was a weird moment, but then I tried it on. To my surprise it was the perfect size, just as if it was custom made. -See? I told you it would fit. Are you going to wish something? -The only thing I wish right now is that you and I go out and have some fun. The evening wasn’t remarkable: movies, dinner, a few beers. By the end of the night Jim had completely forgotten about the magical ring stuff. I, on the other hand, was giving it a serious thought from time to time. I’m not going to lie, as an avid reader of course I has read Mardrus’ version of the One Thousand and One Nights, or The One Thousand Nights and One Night to be more precise. It was a very interesting approach to a classic tale. But if it was true, there were a few things I had really given a thought to wish for if a chance like this would appear. I found myself arriving home thinking about this. The bright side of being an orphan is that you have all the place for yourself. Don’t get me wrong, I practically raised all by myself. Both my parents worked, so I was left alone at home after school. I learnt how to spend time by myself, even though I really cherished the time with my parents. When they both died at the accident, well, it was as if they had permanently gone to work. I do miss them, but I was already used to be alone before they died. When I arrived home, I hurried to leave all my stuff I had. Still with the ring in my hand, I went to my room in front of the full-body mirror I have. One of my biggest and wildest dreams is to be a muscular guy, a pretty muscular guy. However, I don’t want to lose control or get permanently too big I can’t go back a little. So, a while ago I had came up with a plan: if I ever got the chance to wish for something, it would be to have the power to alter my body in any way I want, as well other people’s bodies with a little bonus: I decide who gets to know a change has taken place, that is if I wish to get as big as Craig Golias I would be able to do so and everyone around me would think I had always been that big, unless I wished otherwise. With that in mind, I closed my eyes and thought: if your power is real (and I really want to believe it is) please grant my wish: to be able to change my body and anyone’s body for that matter in any way I want just by thinking it but apart from me, no one can remember the changes ever occurred, and only if I want, certain people will notice the changes. At first nothing happened, but then, there was a bright blue glow coming from the ring. I could only think: Yes! Finally! Something nice has happened! Part 2 I couldn’t believe it. There were so many things going in my mind: first of all, did I really have a strong will and a pure heart? Apparently so, as for the glow the ring gave a few moments ago, its magic had worked. Believe me, people mess up with your mind when they try to hurt you. That moment really cheered me up, I wasn’t the bastard I had been led to believe. Secondly, oh my, I can’t wait to try my powers! Where shall I begin? My first goal: be 7 feet tall. But how was I supposed to do it? The powers didn’t come with an instruction manual. Think Christian, think…. That’s it! Think! I started to think how amazing it would be to be 7ft tall, to be able to look above most people’s head. That’s when I felt it: I felt how my balance was changing and saw the floor from a higher view. And oh reality, my mirror wasn’t 7ft tall, I would miss everything! Unless… I wish the walls of my room had big mirror each covering them. A blue smoke appeared, and my wish came true. This was easy, maybe it would be useful to do other stuff…. In the meantime. Now I could see myself from every angle. Ok, let’s start. 5% fat…. Wow, so that’s why everyone at the gym said I had the shape for bodybuilding, let’s take advantage of that. But some other things first: full beard, no scars on the face, baritone voice, shoulder-length hair and more hair in the chest and in my treasure trail. By the way, full clothes on, though now my t-shirt and pants seemed small. To think I’m not half from done… Ok, let’s make it to size 48 without putting muscle, just bone structure. Now, a ten pack…. Oh yes that feels good, a brick wall. More shredded… yes, totally loving to feel the grooves between my abs. now, remain all the way long with a 30in waist. Mmmmm loose jeans…. Not for long. Bubble butt, bigger, that’s it (oh yes, I can be a total bottom) and able to take any dick but at the same time, as tight as possible. Now the front: 12in soft and 8in wide, also in a soft state, proportional when fully erect. Ops, on my way to find out which proportions will be. Focus, focus, pomegranate-size balls, able to produce a gallon of cum with orgasm. Oh my it’s getting harder to focus but I can make it. Before I completely loose it: I wish this ring fits me no matter the physical changes I go through. With that checked, where were we? Oh yes, restraining jeans. Tree trunks, so big it gets difficult to get my ankles together. All the leg muscles de….. oh yes….. defined, sartorius muscle visible, diamond cut… ugh calves Rrrrriiiippp, there go jeans. I’ll get of my shoes for this one: feet size 15. Wow, new balance, I almost fell down. Impressive, if I may say so. Well taking the whole picture it looks ridiculous: pieces of jeans hanging for their lives to two impressive tree trunks, a bubble butt with boxers that now look like a thong and a big cock begging for release. All of this attached to a skinny broad-shouldered torso. Best for last. But first things first: cock release. So much pre, I shall resist the urge to drink it… that give me an idea, but for later. Now, big pecs, bigger, that they block my view, perfect. A glass can rest over them, and my shirt’s neck is so stretched it now gives a sexy view of the shelf I now own. Back. Big, awesome back, that puts any pro bodybuilder to shame. Big lats, as wings, that force me to have a permanent 45 degree angle. Talking of which: big biceps, 24in arms for starters, with triceps resembling hooves. Big hands, long fine fingers, able to manipulate a scalpel, but also able to crush anything I want. Also, smooth fingertips but a callous palm, to be intimidating at a hand-shake but capable of caressing a lover. Rrriiipp. That’s when I lost it: so much power, so much strength, so manly, I had to cum. The best and biggest orgasm ever, it felt like a thousand of a regular orgasm and that still feels short to describe. I could only feel myself flexing and cumming. My instructions were accurate: I was cumming about a gallon after every orgasm, it took about 50 shots to finish each orgasm. What I never took in consideration was that I tend to have 4 or 5 orgasms. It was a mess, a really manly mess. That’s when I had an idea: I wish for my cum to be nutritious, for anyone who drinks cannot starve by only drinking my cum. I want it to be delicious for everyone and, at the moment I desire, my cum will act as the best aphrodisiac ever. Well, right now I have a lot of cum to drink/clean. But I can also pump it directly from the source to my mouth. It’s gonna be a long night. Imagine how awesome this is going to be when I have sex and use my new powers. I can’t wait, but I’m also hungry. Bon appetit! ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Well, here’s my story for the time being. Hope you guys like it and have as much fun reading it as I had writing it. I hope to continue it soon. My exams area near so I’ll try to make time for writing. It’s my first story and my first post ever in this forum. I’m a little nervous about it. Any feedback will be appreciated!
  22. wbjason

    The Grow Fish

    After a fun weekend on the beach, I had a bit of inspiration and this is the start of what I thought would really just be a short scene type of story. Please forgive the typos, grammatical errors and such as I just needed to get this started and posted... I literally couldn't sleep with this story floating around in my head haha. Hope you enjoy! The Grow Fish Part 1 The weather was perfect. You couldn’t ask for a better day on the beach, and it was the 4th of July no less! The local gay beach would be overrun with guys from LA to San Diego, and as luck would have it, I arrived with my boyfriend early enough to secure a prime spot, just up the sand from the wave tossed water front. This was exactly where you wanted to be to watch all the hot, bathing suit-clad guys as they ran into the water in varying degrees of near nakedness. Yes, today would be the perfect start to another glorious Southern California summer! My boyfriend, Jesse, and I had been dating nearly 7 months. Surprising to both of us, considering our much longer history of chatting on and off on Grindr. It took us practically a year to even meet in the first place. I wasn’t in a hurry to date, enjoying new found freedom from my previous relationship… Ok lets call it what it is: I was being a sex crazed man-whore. And with the body I’d been working on over the past couple years, finding some hot hookups was not a challenge! At just a hair under 6 foot, I’d taken my 32 year old rather average and slightly overweight 215 pound body down to a lean, muscular 185. Not that I let it go to my head, really. I was still a bit modest and unused to the amount of attention I could garner from the thirsty crowd of horny males cluttering the gay apps… all ultimately looking for sex, thinly veiled behind a mask of friendship or gym buds, or whatever line they cared to use. But modesty didn’t stop me from enjoying the reward of my hard work! In contrast, Jesse, was all too happy to give me time and space to explore. Apparently, he saw more in me than one night of fun. We did meet last spring, however, and hit it off epically. What originally started as a few dates turned into a couple months, and some really great sex along the way. While he’s not a buffed up gym rat like myself, he sports a smaller, less muscular 5’7” dancer’s frame. The difference is actually what I find appealing… I get to be the big muscular boyfriend, and he loves appreciating my bigger body and how it feels against his own. Sometimes I'd even noticed him proudly showing off his man to his friends via some of my Instagram photos. Eventually, though, he broke it off, saying I was still unprepared for anything serious. We stayed in touch, and after months with a growing sense of desire for something more concrete and a distaste for all the meaningless sex, I asked him out again. With some obvious trepidation and discussion of what he was truly looking for in this potential relationship, we agreed to make it exclusive. Now, nearly 2 years after our initial online conversation, here we were: madly in love, enjoying the sun, sand, and cleverly disguised drinks of Gatorade and vodka with our close friends, under one of a couple hundred canopies, umbrellas and tents that lined the beach. All that remained was to kick back, and mentally undress the horde of sexy men flaunting their bodies before us, while avoiding eye contact with any previous hookups that I preferred not to have to introduce to Jesse as they walk by. Of course, that didn’t stop a few from making their presence known, along with a handful of friends I actually enjoyed seeing amongst the crowd. A couple hours into the day, I saw a couple from my gym. They are a somewhat oddly paired match once you get to know them a bit, but are the sweetest and truthfully sexiest married couple I know. Hell, they even wanted to have me over one evening for some fun, but schedules never worked out in my favor sadly. Nevertheless, both go by Chris strangely enough, both are nurses, and share the same height of about 5’8”. However, thats where the differences start. While Chris #1 is a fiery and outgoing Latino with a leaner build and a wild streak, Chris #2 is a quiet, reserved Asian guy with a thicker muscular body and a go with the flow personality. I honestly never can quite tell what he’s thinking, he just smiles and lets life happen. We stood a while, catching up on each others lives, talking about how I was doing with Jesse and the new relationship, and other random gossip of the day. Chris #1 continued on about their latest adventures at EDC in Las Vegas and all the fun they had, when suddenly he stopped mid sentence. His eyes grew large, as I could tell his attention was drawn away to something happening beyond our conversation near the water. It wasn’t until his usual effeminate exclamation of “oh my god”, that I turned to see what was happening behind me. A rather large fish (what I thought to be an over grown dolphin) had washed ashore, and had a small group of guys gathering around it. Dolphins aren’t an uncommon sight around our beaches. They’re often seen swimming through the open waters, scaring surfers, and delighting tourists, but I’d never seen one this close, or this large. The group of guys around it seemed to be discussing what to do and how to get it back in the water, when two of them bent down to touch it. What happened next set both of my nurse friends running into action, as I stood there mouth agape. Upon contact, both guys appeared to have been shocked with a sort of electrical discharge and flew several feet back from where they were kneeling. Naturally, this caused the other guys around the creature to quickly retreat, leaving it to suffer further on the wet sand alone. About the time that my two friends reached the two that were unconscious, I snapped out of my stupor and joined them to see how I could help. Latino Chris had reached one of the guys and knelt over him, asking him if he was ok and shaking his shoulder to see if he was responsive. However, his arm recoiled when he grabbed the guy’s shoulder, and he yelled, “Shit! I just got shocked.” He attempted to rouse the guy again, roughly rubbing his chest and once again jerking back from an apparent shock. Asian Chris seemed to be having the same experience as they looked at each other, sitting on the sand next to the bodies and discussed what to do. One victim seemed to be breathing while the other next to my Latino friend either was not breathing at all or it was so shallow it was undetectable. He reached up to his neck to check for a pulse and despite some obvious discomfort from more electrical shock, he determined the guy needed CPR. His husband moved over and started compressions as best he could, while Latino Chris performed the mouth to mouth breathing functions. Both would take a few seconds between their duties to back off, shaking their hands or head and release a few expletives due to the jolts they were taking, then return to action. Not even my own CPR training could have prepared me for something like this. You never actually expect to use it, much less face something so bizarre in the process of trying to save a life. Ultimately, the guy started breathing and shuddered back to life after about a minute of CPR. Coughing, he weakly sat up and put his head between his knees, trying to catch his breath and recover from the trauma. The Chris’s fell back on the sand, breathing heavily from the dramatic experience and rested for a moment. The 2nd victim began to stir as well, and we could breath a sigh of relief that it seemed they would be just fine. After a few moments, I gave my hand to my friends to help them up off the ground. To my surprise both of them shocked me! It felt almost like a quick static discharge and it was done. I shook my hand out and laughed, as I asked them if they were ok. Looking up from my hand I realized, at that moment, I wasn’t looking at the top of their heads like I usually do. Instead, Asian Chris was eye to eye with me, if not slightly higher, and Latino Chris was clearly looking down at both of us from a few inches above. My first response was to look down at the sand, as I must have been standing in a hole or they were on the higher part of the beach as it sloped up from the water. But neither was true, and the odd height difference was just the beginning. In fact, I watched as both of their feet elongated slightly, pushing through the sand a couple inches. Then calve muscles developed, pushing out an inch or two on either side of their legs, followed by their quads. Latino Chris’s growth was even more prominent as his legs exploded with new muscle and size. Large tear drop shapes formed as his quads pulsed bigger, pushing into each other and causing him to adjust his stance significantly. My gaze traveled higher as his cute red, white and blue speedos stretched to its limit both in the back and the front. Already decently endowed (he’d once told me he was just shy of 7.5” downstairs), I saw his suit bulge forward like a water balloon. The top opened slightly as his cock grew in obvious length and girth, competing for space against his enlarging balls. A curved portion of his brown hose like penis pushed up and over the edge of his speedos, the head buried somewhere far below visibility, which just served to accentuate his new size. Even in its current flaccid state, I couldn’t imagine it being anything less than 9 or 10 inches soft and already thicker than any cock I’d ever seen. His abs, which had already been well maintained, began popping into greater definition, the valleys between them etching deeper and deeper by the second. The top row was quickly being eclipsed by a growing shadow casted by pecs which had previously been firm and tight, but were now much fuller and stretching all directions into large manly slabs of meat, and pushing out a couple inches from his chest. While his nipples began pointing downward and tanned areolas growing wider than a half dollar coin, the sides of his pecs were beginning to spill out beyond my view, rubbing against swollen and inflating veiny biceps. Large and growing arms attached to thick, rounded deltoids practically the size of my own head, began to flex in response to the growth being experienced. Unexpectedly, I heard him chuckle, the typical effeminate voice I’d grown accustomed to now gone and replaced with a much deeper rumble. I looked up now, further than before, and stumbled back a step, shocked by how much taller he’d gotten. My eyes were just level with his chin, so I had to guess he was close to 6’6” now, maybe more… a growth of practically 10” in just minutes! His face, sitting above ominously sloping, thick traps, was even more rugged. He’d gone from a cute pretty boy, to gorgeously handsome; a look you could only describe as devastatingly attractive masculinity. A grin formed slowly on his lips as he looked down on me. He was most certainly the new alpha between us and clearly enjoying the revelation as he explored his massive body, and I tried not to pass out myself. To be continued...
  23. After all the positive feedback I received about the first part of this story, I almost didn't want to try to write this part. I'm posting it reluctantly. I really hope you all can enjoy this part at least half as much as the first. Please, any feedback is appreciated, even if only to tell me you think it sucks! Part 1 __________________ I felt myself begin to sway and my vision was spinning. Did he really just say that? The thought of having sex with this god was too much for my mind to handle. And my dick felt like it would explode. I didn't know a human being could produce so much cum in one day, but here I was, probably surpassing records already, and my dick was about to unleash yet another massive torrent of semen. As I began to sway, I felt two hands on my arms, gripping them, one on either side. The strength in them was unmistakable, and I regained my composure when I felt my dick throbbing again. My vision steadied, and I regained focus on what was before me. Bryan was already a beautiful sight to behold. He had the tan skin of someone who spent most of his time in the sun. He had great style, always looking like he belonged in fashion magazines with whatever he was wearing, all the while making it look like it was always a bunch of clothes he just threw together. He had those light brown eyes that could almost be mistaken for yellow, which complemented his golden curly hair extremely well, and it was all too refreshing that he didn't have blue eyes, which is the overly seen cliche of an appearance for a dude (or even girl). And that hair of his... I don't know how it was so perfect, but it just was. His hair had grown more since we moved in, and it was down past his shoulders in length. It was thick, almost fluffy looking, and he had the sexiest appearance of a surfer dude. Of course, as of now, he had tied his hair up into a pile on his head. Which, quite honestly, was just as sexy as when it was down and uninhibited. Just those parts of his appearance were enough to give me a stubby, back when we first met. He was sexy, hot, and beautiful. But then, today, we finally admitted to each other we liked each other. It was a strange interaction, to say the least, but we got it out in the open. And Bryan... he didn't waste time engaging in some fun. And what goddamn fun it was. The specimen in front of me, holding my arms, making sure I wasn't going to fall over and pass out, is, to me, a perfect example of what male perfection looks like. He was not only beautiful, like he was before, but now he had grown into a muscle god. Muscles bulging all over him, arms that were mountainous when he flexed, abs upon which I could wash my clothes (quite literally), a chest so big I could lose my fingers in his cleavage, legs bigger than my two legs combined, and a dick that had to have doubled in size. And we were both completely naked, with our dicks standing straight up and out, oozing precum onto the floor. His was like a fountain the entire time he was growing, and I don't know how he managed to keep his hands off of it. Yes, there was a puddle forming on the carpet. And he just told me that we haven't even had sex yet. And he still had growing to do. Oh just the idea was making me swoon again. He held my arms tight, squeezing them. His eyes were looking into mine, and mine into his. It was strange looking slightly upward into them now, after having looked down into them only an hour earlier. My dick throbbed hard at the idea of having sex with this god. He pulled me closer to him, our dicks rubbing into our naked skin. I shuddered. He had a concerned look on his face, but still maintained a slight smile. He lowered his face to mine, and planted his lips on my lips. Suddenly the feeling of vertigo completely vanished, and it was replaced with total comfort and safety. I hummed softly, and I could feel his lips smile. I immediately brought my arms around his back, one lower than the other, and allowed my hands to roam all over the muscled terrain. Our dicks were pressed firmly between our bodies, and I could feel the sticky wetness that was seeping out of each and spreading between us. We both pulled our lips apart simultaneously, and he had a huge grin on his face. Fuck. That face. I could stare at it for days and days on end. He wrapped his arms completely around me, and I could feel the ridiculous muscles of his arms pressing into me. I laid my head against his chest, and the hard muscles of his pecs had absolutely no give. And yet, they were so warm and comfortable, like my head belonged precisely right there. I wanted to hold him closer to me. I wanted my soul and body to merge with him. Physically, we were already as close as we could get; but I wanted to become one with him. He suddenly detached himself from me, and I was slightly dismayed at first. But then he spoke for the first time in what seemed like forever. "How ya feelin', dude? You gonna be okay?" He chuckled ever so slightly. I nodded in response. "Yeah... yeah. This is all just... insane. But, amazing. I've never even fantasized about this type of thing, and yet here you are, an actual dream I didn't know I had." "Would you sayyyyy... I'm better than a fantasy?" He flashed that evil grin and flexed his right arm. I felt my dick throb again. "Oh fuck, Bryan. Yeah, you're better than a fantasy." I wrapped my hand as much as I could around his huge bicep. It was so hard, and quite vascular. My fingers couldn't even reach from top to bottom, from his peak to his bottom triceps. "What would make this even better than it already is?" He sounded so innocent as he asked it, yet he maintained that evil look in his eyes. "I'm... uhh, I'm not sure it can get any better than this." He held his arm flexed, and even pumped it a few times, letting me feel his mountain of a bicep flex and unflex and flex again. Then he lowered it, grabbed my hand, and flexed his other arm, and did the same with that one. "Unnghh" I quietly moaned. "You think so?" He kept his eyes locked onto my face, even though my eyes were on his hot arm. "I dunno, BRAH. I think it can." "Wha...? Huh?" I was zoning out, too busy looking at his sexy-as-fuck muscles. He took my face with his hands, and planted another kiss on my lips. He pulled away, briefly, and smiled. Then resumed kissing me, letting his tongue slip between my lips, entwining with my own. Even his tongue had grown stronger, as it dominated mine. He lightly bit my lower lip, and tugged on it. He then moved his lips to my cheek, kissing me all around my face, and allowing his lips to travel to my neck. Every so often he'd use his tongue and flit it over my skin, then resume the kisses. He then moved his mouth to my ear, still using his tongue, and bit on my ear lobe. His hot breath on my ear sent shivers up my spine. I think I was silently moaning. I couldn't even make noise, but I felt like I was definitely moaning. He took my hand, and guided me to his bed. He sat down on the end, and pulled me down next to him. Our dicks were still at full mast, standing straight up. He kissed my lips again, softly, and wrapped his hand around my cock. I felt jolts of electricity shooting up and down my limbs, and my entire body quivered. He then shoved himself backwards onto the bed so his whole body was on it, and he pulled my arm with him. As he lay on his back, he looked up at me. His chest was heaving up and down, and his abs were clenching and unclenching with each breath. His shoulders were so fucking hot; so round, and so big. I had turned myself around, on my knees on his bed, looking down at him. He no longer had a smile on his face. "So, you ready for this, dude? I plan to give you exactly what you want." My breath caught in my throat. I couldn't even remember what I told him I wanted, or if I ever did tell him. Again, I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn't make sound come out. "D'you remember? You told me I should get as big as I could possibly get." He chuckled, and pulled me down on top of him. He wrapped his arms around my body, and pulled my face to his for a long, passionate kiss. His strength was enormous as he held me against him. I wouldn't have been able to escape, not that I wanted to. His tongue was so far into my mouth I swear it was partly in my throat. "Mmmmm" I heard him moan. I was kissing him back, trying to fight his tongue for dominance. But losing. My hands were roaming all over his sexy arms and over his shoulders and traps. It was my turn to moan. Our dicks were pressed between us, and I could feel every time his would throb and quiver. Precum was still oozing everywhere. The smell of sex now completely permeated the entire room, and I wouldn't be surprised if the scent had made its way through our door and into the hallway. I might be taking a leap, but I wouldn't be surprised if this was the most two human beings had ever been sexually aroused. "Fuck, yeah," Bryan whispered. "It's time, bruh. I need you to fuck me." What. My mind was sent spiraling as it sank in that he wanted me to fuck him. I honestly figured it'd be the other way around. My dick ached, and I realized I wanted to be inside him more than anything else in the world right now. I wanted to be one with him. I wanted to fuck him. I looked into his eyes, and he into mine. The connection I felt with him in that moment was so strong. The bed creaked and moaned a little as he shifted his body and turned himself around, getting on his hands and knees. His ass was in the air, and I finally got a good look at the bubble butt he now possessed. His ass muscles had grown, too, and there were even striations visible. I saw him shudder. "Fuck me, Alex, dude!" I didn't need to be told again. I moved behind him, taking a small moment to appreciate the gigantic triceps that were bulging out of his arms as he supported his own weight. His ass was beautiful, and I took my hands and placed them on either side. I brought my pelvis towards his hole, and allowed my dick to glide down his crack lightly. "Unnnnnffff!!" He moaned. I felt shivers, myself. I inserted my tip, slowly breaching him. "Ohhhngg," he moaned again. "Oh fuck," I whispered. I pressed some more, inching my way into him, letting my cock slowly make its way inside. Every centimeter was pure, electrifying pleasure that shot its way up my dick and radiated throughout my entire body. I kept pushing, until all 7 inches were inside him. "FUUUUCK!" He yelled. I flexed my dick a few times, and started to fuck him. I slowly pulled back a bit, then rammed him. Then one more time. I began increasing the pace, and each time he'd either moan or shout an expletive. His hair was beginning to fall out of the tie he'd put into it, but he didn't seem to even notice. The telltale sound of sex was filling the air in between his moans, and then I heard it. That soft stretching noise. My eyes nearly bulged right out of my head when I saw what was taking place. His back was widening again. The terrain of his back's huge muscles was already impressive, but now they were swelling and bulging even more. His shoulders were swelling bigger, and I could see his traps rising even more towards his ears, almost making it look like he had no neck from behind. His midsection remained largely the same, but as I held onto his ass, I could feel more swelling there, as well. The muscles were forcing my fingers to spread apart as they grew, and I glanced down and saw even his legs were growing again. "Oh fuck, OH FUCK!" He yelled. His calves were getting fucking huge, bulging into bowling ball size masses. "FUUUUUCK!" He moaned. I was so glad I was on auto-pilot, because I continued fucking him, gliding my cock in and out of him over and over, enjoying the feeling of his tightening hole around me. I was beginning to feel the sharpness of an orgasm welling up at the base of my dick, and I knew I was going to cum soon. His hair had completely fallen out of the hair tie, and his golden curls were hanging in front of his face, swaying with our rhythm. His triceps were getting fucking insane. They were already huge horseshoes, but now they were getting even bigger. His triceps were flexed as he held his weight up, and they seemed to be responding to the strain by growing faster than anything else. And there was no doubt that his biceps were growing, too. I continued fucking him, in and out, and the bed was creaking and squeaking louder with each thrust. His increasing weight was placing a strain on the bed, and I couldn't even imagine how much this beast must weigh now. "Unnnnngh!! FUCK! OH FUCK!" This is the loudest I'd ever heard Bryan get. Veins were snaked all around his arms, and then I saw his neck bulge as even it grew larger. I happened to catch some movement from below me, and I saw his legs inching longer, and FUCK, he was getting even taller. That did it. I felt the sharp explosion that occurred within my balls, and then the intense pleasure of cum shooting from them and into my dick, surging to the tip. "FUCK! BRYAN I'M CUMMING! OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK!!!" And then "Crrreeeeaaakkk" the bed made the loudest noise it had yet, and suddenly we were both falling with the bed as its legs finally gave up and snapped from the weight. "FUCK!" I yelled again, as the first shot of cum blasted from my dick and into Bryan's ass. The bed's collapse did nothing to stop our rhythm. "Ohhhhh yesssss, OH YESSSS!" Bryan's voice was deeper, and its sound made my dick throb even harder than it was before as it shot more hot cum into his ass. "Unnngh!" Bryan was grunting each time I shot. My cock tingled as my orgasm ran its course, and I arched my back as the final surge of cum blasted into Bryan's hole. I felt the final throb as my dick expended itself for what felt like the hundredth time for the day, but this time inside this muscle god. We both remained in position, panting. His body was huge and so muscular. My dick was softening inside him, still, and I was reluctant to separate myself from him. I pulled until I popped out, and I saw him begin to push himself up onto his knees. I sat back on my legs and, still panting, watched as he turned himself around. My heart stopped in my chest as I took in the behemoth that now sat in front of me on top of a broken bed. He was an absolute monster. His chest was so big you could sit things on it, and his nipples were pointing downward. His serratus muscles were even pronounced, sitting on either side of his abs and beneath is chest. FUCK! His lats were the wings that denoted his status as a real life angel. He was breathing hard, as his chest moved up and down, and his abs clenched. His shoulders were at least as wide as two of me, and absolutely huge. I think his shoulders were as big as water melons, with veins protruding from them and snaking down is godly arms. And oh my god. His arms. They were so fucking hot. My dick was already plumping up again as I took in the sight of him, and when I laid eyes on his arms, my dick instantly shot up to full mast. I'd imagine he could lift a car at this point. At least one end of a car, anyway. But shit! The amount of strength this man must now possess was beyond my imagining. My cock was throbbing again, already. And then I noticed his dick was still hard as ever. I think I understood now why his dick grew so much in the beginning. His body simply grew to match the size of his dick. As I was scanning his body with my eyes, I didn't notice he was watching me. I finally happened to look at his face and saw this cute half smile appear when our eyes met. I have to be honest, though. At this point, with this giant in front of me, I felt slightly intimidated. He could lift me with one hand and crush me, if he wanted. He was partially laid back, resting his weight on his elbows as he watched me. "Like what you see, bro?" He finally spoke. His deeper voice made my dick quiver, and it resonated within my soul. I loved it. I gulped, and realized my throat was once again dry. And nodded. He sighed in response, and let himself collapse entirely onto the mattress, his beautiful hair spreading out in a sunburst behind his head. Laying flat, I could see he had a content smile on his face, and he was just gazing at the ceiling. "Dude, the amount of cum you shot into me... Holy fuck." He lay there in silence for a while, and I could only sit where I was, staring at him and appreciating his beauty. "Dude! What are you waiting for? Come here!" He was tilting his head up and met my eyes, and beckoned me to his side. I tentatively moved toward him, and I felt his iron grip wrap around my arm. He pulled me down next to him, and wrapped his gigantic arm around my back, bringing me close to him. He turned his head so his face was right in front of mine, and his beautiful golden eyes were staring into mine. I suddenly felt safer than I'd ever felt before. I felt as though this is exactly where I was meant to be; that there was literally not one other place on Earth that was better suited for my presence. He moved his face so close to mine our noses touched, ever so lightly. He then kissed me softly and gently, only for a second, and then held his forehead against mine. He closed his eyes, and I followed suit, and all I could hear was our breathing. Then I felt it. My entire body was wracked with immense pleasure as I felt Bryan's fingers wrap themselves around my cock. I opened my eyes and saw his eyes again, looking into mine, with that devilish grin on his face. "Ready, BRAH?" FUCK that surfer shit made me go nuts. He started jerking me, and I wasn't far off from another explosion as it was. I decided I was done letting him give me all the pleasure, so I wrapped my hand around HIS cock. It was huge. My fingers didn't even meet all the way around it, but as soon as I touched him, he groaned. "OHHHHNNNGGGGHHYYYEeesssssss!" I felt his dick throbbing hard, and rapidly. He was so hard and horny. Veins were pulsing and snaking all over it. "Unnngh! Unnnff!" He was grunting and groaning with each stroke of my hand. He bucked his hips, and I saw his entire lower torso leave the bed. I suddenly felt his entire body quivering, and I knew he was close. It was right then that I felt that immense pressure at the base of my own dick, and I knew I had an imminent explosion coming. "Oh fuck, FUCK! Bryan I'm gonna cum!" I felt the sharp sensation of cum entering my dick and launching to the tip. My head turned dark red, and a shot of hot, thick cum blasted out across the dorm room and went as far as my own bed on the complete other side of the room. Then another. My balls were emptying themselves yet again, and I felt throbbing throughout my entire being as my dick shot blast after blast of cum across the room, until it was just a slight dribble oozing out and around Bryan's hand. As soon as my orgasm subsided, Bryan's began. "MY TURN, DUDE! OH GOD! HERE IT COMES!!!! OHHHHNNNNNGH FUCK!!" His cock throbbed hard once more, then it flexed in my grasp. I felt my fingers forced apart, and FUCK! It grew! Again! But then I heard the cum leave his shaft. "AHH!! AHHHH!!" He was practically screaming. I saw his eyes roll back into his head, his mouth wide open. I could actually hear the first shot erupt, and a white hot thick rope of cum shot so hard that it went straight to the ceiling, splattering so hard that we heard it make impact like a fucking water balloon splattering against a wall. I felt his cum raining down on me, and then another powerful shot erupting, splattering the ceiling again. More of his godly cum rained down on us. He shot like that at least 10 fucking times, and every time, it hit the ceiling. It finally started to subside, and his cock was shooting less distance. Finally, it was just a dribble, leaking cum all over my hand and the bed. "Oh FUCK, dude! That was the best orgasm of my life!" Cum was still dripping from the ceiling, and neither of us cared. It was everywhere. Bryan sat himself up on his elbows, and looked over at me. He had a grin on his face, as he typically does. I felt so small next to him, and it was so hot. I couldn't reconcile the fact that this dude was smaller than me only hours earlier. Now he was a monster. A hot, sexy, beautiful surfer monster. I looked back up at him from laying on my back, breathing hard. We may have broke a record somewhere for most intense love-making. Bryan sat all the way up, and scooted himself to the end of the mattress so he could stand. He stood up, and HOLY FUCK, his head was brushing against the ceiling. He was absolutely huge, and all muscle. He brought his arms up into the air and stretched, and I saw the devilish look in his face when he suddenly brought his arms down into a double bicep pose. "Unnnnff..." I moaned, and shuddered, at the display of power before me. He knew he was putting on a show, and I loved it. He made like he was stretching another way, and then placed his hands by his hips and flared his lats. And then, he didn't even bother trying to look like he was stretching, he just went right into a most-muscular pose. I felt myself swooning again. "Come on, BRAH! Stand up! I didn't grow for you so you could just look at me!" I stood up, and he grabbed my hand and brought my body against his. He wrapped his arms around me again, and held me. I reciprocated the embrace, and we stood there like that for several moments. The light of dusk was entering the room. Bryan broke our embrace, and he, for the first time since before he started growing, showed his less confident side. "Soooo, uhh... Alex, dude... did you like it? I mean, how I... grew... and everything?" I felt a smile widening across my face as he said those words. Tears were forming in the corners of my eyes from pure happiness. His face was turning bright red. He was blushing! This dude just grew into a muscle god, and he was blushing! My heart felt like it was going to explode. "Bryan." I shook my head, and looked down at the floor, trying to avoid laughing. "What?" He responded, softly. "I love you." The smile that spread across his face was joy, no doubt about it. And it made me so happy that this perfect dude was the guy I fell in love with. He grabbed my hands with his, and pulled me into his body again, and kissed me, long and hard. His golden hair fell over my own face as he did. He only broke the kiss to say, "I love you too, brah. You're definitely the perfect dude."
  24. pasidious

    A Growing Love

    This is the first time I'm attempting to post in this section. I'm trying to improve my writing and I hope at least a few of you enjoy this. Yes, I know it's cliche. But I honestly had this idea pop into my head as sort of a daydream a few years ago. Please let me know what you think! ______ As a first year college student, 18 years old, I never knew what to expect from living in a dorm. I mean, I'd heard stories from various sources about what it was like, but the actual thing was nothing at all what I'd expected. I'd always heard about parties and constant shenanigans within college dorms. Some of the dudes in this dorm had some fun, but it was quiet for the most part. I knew I'd have a roommate. I was expecting some dude who'd be into partying, and being boisterous, but this guy was pretty tame. He'd often spend time reading and studying, or just watching Netflix, or even playing some video games. He'd rarely make the effort to speak to me. Not that he was rude, or anything! He was always polite. He just never tried to engage in any more conversation than was necessary. I was the first of the two of us to arrive on move-in day. I entered the dorm and surveyed the space, taking note of everything. I didn't want to begin unpacking my things until my roommate arrived, because I didn't want to dominate the place before he'd even had a chance to claim any space for his own. There were two beds, of course, one on either side of the single window. The closet was to the right of the doorway, and it was rather large. I opened the closet to take a look and I decided to put my bags on the floor in there just for the moment. As I was doing so I heard the dorm door open. At first I was thinking "what the fuck?" because it was my dorm, but I quickly remembered I was sharing it with someone. I moved the closet door so I could look at who was entering the room, and there he was. I assumed, anyway, that he was my roommate. He had long curly blonde hair that reached his shoulders, light brown eyes, and even a few freckles on his face above his nose and under his eyes. He was tan, his skin a nice bronze color as though he were someone who spent a lot of time in the sun. He had to be around 5'9." He was wearing a simple white T-shirt with some RCVA logo on the front, and tan cargo shorts with a lanyard bearing the school colors hanging out of his pocket. He had black socks on that went up to just below his calves, and red Supra shoes. He had sunglasses on top of his head, which were pulling his hair back a bit farther from his face than I imagined it usually sat. He didn't notice me at first because I was kind of obscured part way inside the closet door. "Hey man." "What the?! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me." He jumped backwards a bit. "Ah sorry, I wasn't trying to do that. I was just putting some of my shit in the closet. My name's Alex." "I'm Bryan. Good to meet you, Alex, dude. I guess we're roommates, huh?" He held his hand out, and I shook it. "Looks like it! This your first year, too?" "Yeah, but I took a year off from school. I'm 19, just turned 19 two months ago." "Oh that's cool, I kind of wish I could have taken a year off." I laughed. We then began unpacking our belongings and deciding how to divide up the space. He seemed like a nice enough dude. We were about two months into our semester when it dawned on me that Bryan never had any girls or friends in general come to the dorm. He really never left, actually. He only ever went to class, or to go eat. He'd brought with him some dumbbells when he moved in, and he'd sometimes do brief little workouts with them, but he never actually went to the school gym. At least not as far as I knew. I mean, I wasn't exactly one to talk. I rarely did much social stuff, either. I'd sometimes go chill with a few friends here and there, but it wasn't often. I was more of a "follower," so to speak, in the sense that I wasn't one to initiate social events. I usually waited til someone else invited me to do something. And I was no slouch, athletically. I'd worked out throughout high school, and I continued to do so in college. I wasn't huge or anything. I had abs, a decent chest that would show through a tight enough shirt, and decent arms. I liked being able to use the school gym since I didn't have to pay for a membership. I'd try to go at least 4 times a week. Bryan's little dumbbell workouts were always fascinating, though. I'd be reading or trying to do homework, and he'd bring them out and start lifting them in various ways. He'd always start with curls. I loved watching him lift them over and over, watching his biceps contract into nice little balls in his sleeves. He'd then do tricep extensions, and he'd lay down on his back and work his chest. He wasn't big by any means, and he really didn't ever gain any weight. But watching him workout, though, was something I loved doing. I'd always get hard watching him. I never mentioned to him that I was gay, and I doubt it was something I should ever bring up. If he had something against it, it'd be a rough time living with him for the remainder of our time in this dorm. I did find him super attractive, though. His hair had gotten longer since he moved in, and it was a few inches below his shoulders now. Sometimes he'd pile it on his head. He reminded me of a surfer. He'd always finish his workout by doing some sit-ups. He'd do maybe 10, then stop for a while. Then 10 more. Then he'd stop for another while. He never took his shirt off, so I wouldn't be able to actually see his abs. I always kind of thought he did things a little weird. But at the same time, I just enjoyed watching. Discreetly, though. I'd be behind my laptop or reading a book or something so I could steal glances without him noticing. Many times when he was done I'd have to run down the hall to the bathroom to take care of myself. There were times when I'd considered asking him about his workout plan. I mean, he wasn't going to gain anything if he used the same weights all the time and did the same exact basic exercises. I was curious about what he was hoping to achieve. But, at the same time, I liked watching him. I didn't want to ruin it! It was a dilemma. If I asked him about it, maybe I could motivate him to go to the gym and start making some gains, which would be so hot. But then I'd never get to see him workout in front of me anymore. He was so confusing to me. At some point I would have to actually ask him about all of this. If nothing else, it would get him to hopefully open up some more and actually talk. My curiosity was getting the better of me one Friday afternoon. I'd finished up my last class of the day and was heading back to the dorm. The whole trek back I kept thinking about Bryan. I couldn't get him off my mind. I opened the door and he was sitting at his desk, on his computer. He looked up and said "Sup?" and I greeted him back. I went to sit at my own desk and pulled out my laptop. I had some homework to do and I figured I could at least start it. Bryan continued tapping away at his keyboard. I couldn't tell what he was working on but it didn't matter. He stood up from his desk and went to the closet. He opened the door and pulled out his dumbbells, and I couldn't take it anymore. I had to finally ask him. "Bryan, can I ask you something?" "Yeah man, what's up?" He looked at me, standing there with a dumbbell in each hand. "Well, I've noticed you working out with those dumbbells for months now, and I can't help but notice you're not exactly gaining any weight. What's your goal?" The corners of his mouth only slightly upturned. It was the faintest of smiles. But I saw it. "My goal? I don't know man, I just wanna stay in shape." "I guess that's as good a reason as any. Have you ever thought about trying to gain some size?" "You think I should try to get bigger?" Fuck. Yeah I wanted to see him get bigger. My dick hardened a bit in my shorts when he said that. "Welllll... that's entirely up to you. Strive for your own goals, don't let me decide for you." He turned his eyes upward, like he was thinking. His golden hair was down today, most of it tucked behind his ears with some strands hanging over his face, and he was wearing a blue and white plaid button-down shirt and tan cargo shorts. The guy had style, for sure. I mean, to me he could wear the fuck out of anything, really. "Well, what's your opinion, Alex? What do you think I should do?" My breath caught in my throat at that question. How do I avoid answering that one? If I'm honest, he might get the hint that I'm into him. But fuck, I'd love to see him start getting bigger and bigger. I'll have to finesse the language of my answer. "If you want to get bigger, then I think you should go for some size. I think the chicks would start lining up at the door for you if you do that." "You're a pretty fit dude, and you've never brought home any girls." Ah shit. Where do I go with that? He has to know. He said that with no expression on his face. He was looking into my eyes, and it made me uneasy. I opened my mouth to respond but I couldn't make any sound come out. He tilted his head like he was waiting for me to say something specific, but I couldn't even figure out for myself what I wanted to say. Then he smiled. "I've noticed you tend to watch me when I use these weights. And then more often than not you disappear from our dorm when I'm done. I'm guessing... you're not into girls, are you, Alex?" "I... ummm... no... I just..." He chuckled a little. "It's okay, Alex. I don't have a problem with it. I've known you watch me for a while now, and I've liked it. I like that you're into me. It's kinda hot. And I think you're pretty hot, too." I was completely shocked. I mean, this is a great outcome, but still, I never imagined he'd be gay. He looked like the kind of dude that'd never be into other dudes. I just couldn't bring myself to talk, still. I couldn't figure out what to say. "So, you think I should get bigger, huh? Would that make you more into me?" He was still standing in the same spot, still holding his dumbbells. I was finally able to find my voice. "What? No! I mean... Yes, I do think you should try to get bigger. But I'm already into you." I blushed. I could feel it. "Haha, cool. I'm glad to hear that. But, I will say, now that we've decided my goal should be to grow, I will grow. I won't just try. I will grow." He smirked at me. "How big do you want me to get?" He started curling his weights when he said that. He kept his eyes on me, his smirk turning into a kind smile. I saw his biceps contracting into balls as he lifted. It was making me hard. "Uhhhh how big do you want to be?" "No Alex. I'm asking YOU. How big do YOU want me to get?" "I guess... I don't know, dude! Like, ten minutes ago I had no idea you'd ever even consider the idea, much less that you were gay, AND into me!" He stopped curling the weights. One arm was contracted while the other stayed hanging by his side. His smile faded. "Whoa, man. I said I thought you were hot. I never said I was into you." I felt my mouth drop open as my mind just shattered. The disappointment that shot through my body was astronomical. Even my boner started to soften. "BAHAHAHAHA!" He busted out laughing, and I was really confused. I was even starting to get annoyed. "Oh you should have seen your face, Alex!" More laughing. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes. "Fuck off, Bryan." "No, bruh, I'm just messing with you! Dude you were so tense I had to try to make you laugh!" His laughing faded. "I uh... guess you didn't find that funny, huh?" His face was more serious now, but still had a faint smile. His hair was a bit disheveled, more strands of curled golden locks in his face. "Wait, you were joking? So, you really are into me?" "Well, yeah, man. I think you're hot. I've been attracted to you since the day we met. It's why I never wanna go anywhere. I'd always rather just be in here, with you." He smiled again, and I felt myself blush again. He put the weights down on his bed. "You never did give me a real answer, though. How big do you want me to get?" I decided I'd give him an honest answer. "I love muscles. Nothing turns me on more. So, I guess I'm saying you should get as big as you can possibly get." "Well then. I guess I'd better get started, huh bro?" He flexed his arms, and I saw two nicely shaped biceps pop up in his sleeves. They weren't huge, or even all that big, but they were beautiful. They'd be so fucking hot if they were bigger. My dick was back at full mast, throbbing in my shorts. He smiled at me again. "You uhhh, know any good workout plans? Heh." He dropped his arms and I finally got to see him blush. "I can help you find what you need, man. It'll be easy, I think. You look like your genetics have you set to grow pretty easily and quickly." "You really think so?" He flexed his arm again, and looked at it. He ran his hand over it. FUCK my dick was so hard. "Y-yes. I do." I was trying so hard not to touch my dick. I had to look away. I looked back at my computer screen where I had some schoolwork pulled up. From behind me I heard Bryan say "I can't wait to start. I think it'll be fun to get big. For you." Did he really say that? He's really going to do this for me? I mean, it'd be so fucking hot, but he's way ahead of himself. There's no telling how much work he'll need to put in to even gain the smallest amount of weight. I only told him it looked like he'd have an easy time because I wanna motivate him. "Uhhh, Bryan, I already said you gotta do this for yourself. I can't be the reason you--" My words were interrupted by the force of my chair being spun by an unknown source. Bryan's face came into my view and I saw he had the back of my chair in his hand. "Oh no, dude. There's no better reason than to do it for you." Then he bent down and kissed me. I saw fireworks in my eyes when his lips made contact with mine. He reached a hand behind my head and began running his fingers through my hair, and kept his lips locked with mine. I closed my eyes and kissed him back. It felt amazing to finally have this amazing guy kissing me, which I never thought would ever happen. It was like a dream. He broke away, pulling his face back, and he used his other hand to sweep some of his curls out of his face and behind his ear. He was smiling, and his white teeth were shining in the light. I always thought he was hot, but now I'm finally seeing he's just plain beautiful. He was angelic. "I'm gonna grow for you, Alex. You wait and see." I gasped as I felt my dick throb. Bryan giggled a little, and reached down and grabbed my crotch. FUCK. "Wow, you're really fucking hard!" "Fuck, Bryan! What do you expect?" I closed my eyes and my head went back as he squeezed my cock through my shorts. "Unnnghh" I moaned a little. "Wow. You're gonna be fun to play with. But we can't yet. Not just yet." Was he really going to tease me like this?! "Bryan, you can't tease me like that! It's cruel!" He continued squeezing me through my shorts. He even started to jerk me off a little. "Oh, I can jerk you off if I want. But that's the most we can do for now." He winked at me. God he was so hot. "You wanna cum?" I nodded rapidly. The pressure I was feeling was insane. I wanted him so bad. He started jerking me off with more speed and energy, and he was squeezing every few seconds. "Ohhhh..." I moaned again. And then he removed his hand. He unbuttoned my shorts and pulled the zipper down, and then tugged my boxers down with my shorts. All 7 inches of my dick popped out, veiny and hard as steel. He mouthed the word 'wow' when he saw it. I felt some pride that he was impressed, but then I was wracked with jolts of pleasure when he grabbed me again, this time skin to skin in his hand. Oh it felt so good. He began jerking again, and squeezing. He was squeezing hard, too, making me writhe in my chair. He increased his speed, and continued squeezing. His hand was becoming a blur, and my mind was in a constant state of explosion. I couldn't even see clearly anymore, the pleasure was too great. The pressure at the base of my dick was growing, and soon I could feel the sharpness of an imminent ejaculation. I was gonna cum, and I was gonna cum hard. He squeezed hard once more, and that was it. "OH GOD I'M CUMMING!" He didn't stop jerking. He kept going, and I felt the amazing sensation of cum leaving my balls and entering my dick and surging to the tip. The first blast was a big one, hot and thick, and shot across the room and hit the window! And then the next one, another big one. It hit the wall right next to the window. I could hear the splatters as they made impact. And then another shot, this one not as strong but still big, hitting the floor. A few more spurts were launched, leaving a mess on the carpet, until there was only a little bit dribbling from the tip and onto Bryan's hand. He brought his hand up and licked it, cleaning up all of my cum from his hand. He chuckled a little. "You taste good, brah. Can't wait to do that when I'm bigger." I sat there, my head tilted back, breathing heavily. My chest was rising up and down with each breath. My dick was still feeling the residual effects of the massive explosion I'd just experienced, still exposed to the air as it slowly softened. I looked up and noticed Bryan was still standing there, looking down at me with a smile on his face. He was just standing there with his arms at his sides. I wondered if he was even hard. He gave no indication that he wanted to cum, too. I suddenly felt self-conscious, and sat up and started tucking myself back into my shorts. Bryan just chuckled. "What?" I asked. "Nothing. I just like looking at you." He crossed his arms. "I'm gonna run down and get something to eat, dude. You want anything?" "Ah, no thanks. I'm just gonna chill out for a bit. You really wore me out..." I slightly laughed. "I guess while you're gone I'll try to look up a good beginner's workout plan. Should be plenty to find on the internet." "Dude, that'd be awesome. I can't wait to start." He winked at me. "I'll be back in a bit." He put on his shoes and walked to the door, opened it, and only stopped ever so briefly to look back at me and grin before exiting and shutting the door. 'What the hell just happened?' I wondered to myself. It was fucking great! I just couldn't believe it. I was so very much looking forward to spending more time with Bryan. I wanted to lay in bed with him, and hold him. I wanted to kiss him, with him kissing me back, arms around each other. I wanted our tongues to dance around together while we feel each other all over, our hands exploring everywhere. I wanted to run my hands through his beautiful hair and look into his beautiful eyes. I also wanted to see him flex. Fuck, muscles get me so horny. I mean, I built some of my own, sure, but it wasn't as great as seeing another dude's muscles. I liked to flex for myself. I liked looking into the mirror and flexing my arms, watching my peaks rise into baseballs. I liked flexing and bouncing my pecs, and tensing my abs. I liked to run my hands over them, feeling each brick. I especially liked wearing a tight T-shirt and seeing it wrapped around my torso, with my pecs pushing out and the sleeves completely filled with my arms. I'd get hard appreciating my own body, but nothing compared to seeing another dude flex. That made me harder than anything else. Just watching Bryan workout made me hard as fuck. I wanted to see him flex every muscle he could flex. I wanted him to start with his arms, and flex into a double bicep pose. I wanted to put my hands on each one, and squeeze. Oh fuck that'd be hot. I wanted to see his abs tense up. I wanted to run my fingers between each brick. I wanted to see his quads and his calves bulging. I wanted to run my hands all over his body. Fuck. I was so curious about how he was so confident he'd start gaining muscle. I was excited for it to happen. I couldn't wait to see him come back to the dorm each day after a workout, seeing him all pumped. I wanted him to get bigger and bigger. I was getting hard again thinking about all of this. I decided I should just actually look up some workout plans for him. I should have that done before he gets back. Going to the internet, there was no shortage of possible plans. Most are pretty similar for beginners. I picked one that looked promising for his build. He wasn't too far off from my own build, especially before I started getting bigger, so I picked a plan that was very similar to the one I'd started with. I put it together so it would fit on as few pieces of paper as possible, and kept it organized so it was easy to understand. I printed it out and placed it on his desk. And then I went back to working on the homework I'd tried to start earlier. It was probably about an hour later that Bryan made it back. I got distracted from my homework and wound up catching up on my current Netflix binge. I was laying in bed with my laptop watching Raymond Reddington being a badass when I heard the door open. I glanced toward the door and saw Bryan walk in and shut the door softly behind him. He had his sunglasses on his face still, but once he shut the door he lifted them up so they sat on his head. He looked at me and smiled that smile. "Sup?" He greeted me. He walked to the edge of his own bed and sat down. I smiled back at him, blushing uncontrollably. He was so beautiful. The sun was getting low in the sky, but was still shining enough light into the room that seemed to make him glow. "I got distracted when I was trying to do some homework. Just watching The Blacklist. Oh and I was able to find a workout plan for you. I printed it out and put it on your desk." My laptop continued streaming Netflix. "That's so cool man, I can't wait to get started on growing. Are you excited to see it happen?" Fuck! He had a knack for asking questions that instantly made me start getting hard. "Yeah man, I wanna see you grow. I wanna see you get big and outgrow your clothes." I tried to focus on Netflix so my dick wouldn't harden any further. "You want me to outgrow my clothes?" It was an innocent question; a response to my response. And yet, just the way he asked it made me harden further. I swallowed, and yet my throat was starting to feel dry. I looked at his face, and he had this quizzical look. "Uh, yeah. I want your gains to be enough that you need new clothes. It's a positive thing." "What about if I'm still wearing them? Is that something you'd like? You wanna see me flex an arm and make the sleeve rip?" Fuck, he knew which buttons to press. My dick was fully hard now. And throbbing. "Umm yes, to be honest I'd find that super hot." He grinned. "Cool." I don't know how he was so nonchalant about this whole thing. It made him that much hotter. But then he stood up from his own bed, took his sunglasses off and put them on his desk, and walked right over to mine. Several locks of his hair fell out of place, falling into his face, without the sunglasses holding them where they were. He was still wearing what he was before. He didn't even say anything, he just lay himself down right next to me in my bed and started watching Netflix with me. My face was so red, I could feel it. But it was awesome. I scooted over a bit so he had more room, and he scooted with me. He had his left arm behind his head, and took his right hand and grabbed for my left hand. I felt his fingers entwine with mine, and I felt like I was in heaven. He turned his head and looked at my face, and I turned to look at his. He smiled again, and moved his face closer and kissed me lightly. I hummed softly when his lips touched mine, and I felt my dick throb. He kissed me again, and I felt his hand squeeze mine. He moved his arm from behind his head and put his hand on my chest. Our lips remained locked, and the sounds from my laptop were fading so far into the background that I didn't even hear them anymore. His tongue entered my mouth, and started dancing with my own. I engaged his tongue, dancing with it, fighting for dominance. He took my left hand and brought it to his crotch, and placed my hand on his dick. I felt him through his shorts, and wow. He was hard. And getting harder. I felt him swelling through the fabric, and it was incredible. I wrapped my fingers around his dick as well as I could, and squeezed. I felt him gasp through my lips while we continued to kiss. He was so thick! His dick felt at least as big as mine, maybe bigger. I squeezed him again, and fuck. His dick seemed like it was still growing and getting harder. I wasn't sure, but with his lips on mine, it sort of felt like he smiled. He broke our kiss, and our noses touched. He whispered "It's finally time for us to play." He reached over and grabbed the bottom of my shirt and started pulling it up. I sat up a bit and let him remove my shirt, and he tossed it to the floor. He mouthed 'Wow' again when he looked at my body. My abs and chest were on full display, and I had to admit, I looked pretty fit. I kicked my laptop off to the side so it wasn't in the way, and I grabbed at the bottom of his shirt. He stopped my hands, though, and I looked at him, confused. "No, not yet. My shirt will come off soon enough." He grinned, and it was almost an evil grin. He took my hand and placed it on his crotch again, and his dick was... wow. He was so hard, and he felt so big. He had to be bigger than me down there. He then reached down to his shorts and undid the button and pulled down the zipper. His dick popped right out, and FUCK. It was gorgeous. It was straight as a steel rod, and thick, covered with veins. I also noticed he wasn't wearing any boxers or anything. But I'd say he was bigger than me, he had to be close to 8 inches. It was my turn to say wow. He turned my head towards his face and kissed me again. I grabbed his dick and wrapped my fingers around it, and squeezed. He gasped, and continued kissing me. But then something insanely hot happened. I felt his dick throb, and then my fingers were forced to spread apart. I broke away from his kiss to look down, and his dick had grown even bigger. I heard him snicker. "It's time for some fun," he said. "Wha--?" I couldn't even finish saying the word as his dick throbbed and grew again in my hand. Holy fuck, what was happening? My own dick was so hard and leaking pre. I could feel the wetness in my shorts. "Come on, brah, make me cum." I squeezed his dick, and he moaned. I started jerking him off, sliding my hand up and down his shaft. I moved my face to his and kissed him again, shoving my tongue into his mouth. I was so turned on by all of this and was feeling a little aggressive. I wanted to make him cum, especially after he made me cum harder than I'd ever cum before. He moaned again, with my mouth on his. His lips tasted so good. I squeezed his dick again, and it throbbed hard. Again, it grew in my grasp, spreading my fingers farther apart. "Ah!" he gasped again, and I even moaned some. Feeling his dick pulse and grow was one of the hottest things I've ever experienced. I started jerking him faster. He moaned again, and I knew what I had to do. I broke our kissing, and sat up. He looked up at me, at first with disappointment, and then with intense desire. He also almost looked like he was in pain. "I need to cum, dude! I'm so hard!" "You will... ohhh you will," I replied. I maneuvered myself so my face was closer to his dick. I grabbed it with my hand and squeezed it, then released and brought my lips over the head. Bryan moaned pretty loudly. Just with his head in my mouth, I started licking at the tip. I ran my tongue all over it, circling it. He started to writhe on the bed. I took some more of him into my mouth, and sucked. I sucked him like it was a lollipop, and allowed my tongue to roam all over. He was moaning almost nonstop now, sighing, and breathing hard. I could tell he was really enjoying this, and I wanted him to explode. Then he grunted, and I felt my mouth forced open wider as his dick grew even more. Holy shit. I really hit the jackpot with Bryan, because I'm sure any gay dude out there would kill for a chance to suck a dick that's literally growing bigger and bigger. And not just getting hard. I brought my left hand to his dick and grabbed it at its base and started to jerk him in time with my sucking. He was too big now now matter how much I tried to fit into my throat. Another throb, and my lips were forced wider again. FUCK! How big was his dick gonna get?! "OHHHHHNNNGGGGGG!" He was moaning so loud now, nonstop. "FUUUUUUCK! I'M GONNA CUM! ALEX MAKE ME CUM!" I squeezed him hard with my hand, and sucked hard. He was bucking his hips, fucking my mouth. Another pulse, and his cock grew yet again. My mouth couldn't widen any more. My throat kept swallowing, trying to take in as much of him as possible. I sucked harder than I'd imagined I could, and I used my right hand to start squeezing his hamstrings. "I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING ALEX!" And he was. I felt his dick throb, and it suddenly felt so hot in my mouth. I then felt the first shot hit the back of my throat. FUCK it was powerful, like a jet. "AHH!" He yelled. Then another hard and powerful blast, long and thick. I kept swallowing as each shot erupted, another, and another. Each one was just as powerful as the last, until the 6th shot. It was slightly less forceful, and then the next one was even less. Eventually I'd sucked him dry, and could no longer taste the salty sweetness. I pulled my face away from his crotch and let his dick pop out of my mouth, and holy SHIT. He had to be at least 12 inches long. And still fucking hard! He wasn't even softening! He lay there, panting, unmoving. His eyes were closed but he had that evil grin on his face, and his head tilted back slightly. His hands were gripping the blanket on the bed hard enough that his knuckles were turning white. I saw cords and tendons of his forearms standing out, he was gripping it so hard. "Thanks, Alex. That was the best orgasm I've ever had, brah." "Dude, you are unreal. How are you still hard?" He stayed how he was, still panting, still grinning. I thought for a moment that he didn't even hear me. But then he opened his eyes and looked directly into mine. "You think I'm unreal?" His dick was quivering, and still hard as ever. I was letting my eyes roam over his entire form, and he was so fucking hot. That hair of his was sexy as hell, too. I'd never met a guy whose hair made this much of a difference, but Bryan's surfer hair made me so hot for him. Well... MORE hot for him. He relaxed his hands and released his grip on the blanket, but his forearms maintained their tensed appearance, now with veins protruding from the skin. He started to sit up and put his weight on his elbows. "Yeah... you're unreal. How... just... how did you get your dick to grow like that?!" "Hmph." He grunted out a short laugh. "It's just the beginning, bro." He sat up all the way and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed my hands and pulled me to his side so we were sitting together. He turned his face to mine and kissed me passionately, and then stood up. His huge dick was still sticking out from his open fly of his shorts, which still clung to his hips. What a sight to behold! "What's beginning?" I asked him. He turned and faced me as I sat in front of him. He tilted his head a bit to the side and was looking into my eyes. He wasn't smiling anymore. His face was intense, but otherwise neutral. But then he spoke. "I'm sorry you went to the trouble of finding me a workout plan." "What... Bryan? What do you mean?" "I just wanted this to be a bigger surprise, is all. I wasn't lying when I said I was gonna--unghh--grow." He grunted, and I saw his dick grow about another inch longer, and even thicker. "Holy fuck..." was all I managed to say before the real surprise started. I started to hear a faint stretching noise, and the smile returned to his face. I saw movement, and I noticed his shoulders were spreading. I blinked a few times, and yes, they were broadening, pulling his button-down tighter across his chest. But they weren't just getting wider, I could see them swelling under the fabric, too, becoming rounder and more bulbous. And then I saw his neck starting to thicken, with his traps beginning to rise up. "Dude, this feels so good." The stretching noise was getting louder. He brought his arms up, and his forearms were starting to thicken as well. "This is what you--ahhh--wanted, right?" His chest bulged out when he said that, pushing his shirt out and making the cloth pull at the buttons. His forearms were still getting thicker, but he pulled back his sleeve on his right arm and flexed his bicep. And holy fuck. It swelled into a tennis ball, bigger than it was before. He took his right arm and pulled back the sleeve on his left arm and flexed both at once. "You like this, Alex? I want you to enjoy the show." He winked at me, those beautiful blonde curls bouncing as he moved his head. My dick was throbbing hard. So fucking hard I wish MINE would grow bigger just so it could get harder. "Unnghghh" He groaned, and his arms bulged bigger. They were baseballs now. He started pumping his arms, flexing and unflexing. Each time he flexed again, they were slightly bigger. "Fuck, this feels so good. Come on, growwwwww!" And then I noticed his legs. His calves had begun to swell, forming bulges on his lower legs. They were flexing and unflexing, like his arms, but this seemed involuntary. Each time they flexed they'd grow some more. Soon they were baseballs, too, and still swelling. His dick was starting to leak precum, drooling onto the floor. FUCK. Oh my GOD this was so hot. His arms didn't stop growing, they were starting to get to softball size, right in time with his calves. But then I heard some creaking noise, and noticed his shorts were tight in the thighs. They were skin tight. The material of his shorts was so tight it was straining and squeaking a little, and I couldn't believe how thick his legs had gotten. "Oh fuck." I whispered. My dick felt like it was going to explode. "Yeah, fuck yeah, this is what you like, right? You wanted this to happen, so watch closely." He said it softly, but with a strong amount of authority. He lowered his arms and flexed his quads, hard. And then RIIIIIIP! Both legs of his shorts ripped wide open on the sides, starting in the middle and moving in both directions. The seams split wide open. "FUCK! OH FUCK!!" I wasn't even touching myself and my cock exploded, shooting cum all into my shorts. It was everywhere. I wasn't even touching myself!! The wet spot forming was unmistakable, as Bryan once again made me cum harder than ever before. "OHHHNGGG" I kept shooting into my shorts, and I noticed Bryan had an amused look on his face. My jaw was wide open as I looked into his face. He looked kind of proud of himself. "Dude. I'm not even done yet," Bryan said in a low voice. His own dick was still drooling onto the carpet, forming a small puddle. FUCK his dick looked hot. My dick exhausted itself, but as soon as I looked back up at Bryan, he took his hands and tucked his fingers under the waist. He began pulling the waist of the shorts in opposite directions, his arms bulging into striations and clear tendons, until RIIIIP, the remains of his shorts tore apart, leaving his lower body completely bare. My dick immediately started getting hard again. His quads had gotten huge, and each head of the muscle was visible. His legs were touching together, and he widened his stance a bit. They were still fucking swelling, too. Holy shit. I scanned up his body and noticed something else. His lats were growing. His body was taking on that sexy V shape so many dudes wish they had. And his shirt was getting tight, too. His shirt was starting to pull at the buttons, causing gaps down the front. More stretching noises began emanating from his body as his shoulders widened and grew some more, and his lats continued swelling under the fabric. The shirt was becoming skin tight, and the buttons were struggling. "I think it's the perfect time, don't you?" he asked. My mouth was still hanging open, and it wasn't until it registered within my brain that he'd asked a question that I realized how dry my mouth had become. I had to swallow a couple of times before I could answer him. "Wha... time for what?" He chuckled, and got that evil grin. "Time to make some sleeves rip, BRAH!" My dick throbbed hard in my shorts as I realized what was about to happen. And that surfer persona he had was so fucking sexy. I glanced at his arms and wow, they had gotten really thick. The sleeves were skin tight around his upper arms now, and perfectly midway so the edges were right on the highest points of his biceps. He slowly brought his arms up, raising them carefully, until they were straight out from his body and parallel to the floor. He clenched his hands into fists, and then immediately brought his arms into a mind-boggling double-bicep pose. His arms exploded with size, easily surpassing softballs, and the sleeves shredded all the way past his shoulders. "AH FUCK!" I shouted as my balls purged themselves of cum once more, adding to the mess already in my shorts. "Ahh! AHH!" I yelled with each spurt. FUCK! My balls had an endless supply of cum for this dude! I never took my eyes off him, though. He laughed at me, I assume for blowing yet another load. Then he looked like he was taking a deep breath, but I realized his pecs were swelling again, and his lats were still growing. "Fuuuck yeah, Alex. Here we go." He flexed his pecs, and POP POP POP his top three buttons snapped off, flying across the room in different directions. The cloth separated and I could see his enormous chest, huge and defined with amazing striations. Then another POP as the next button popped off. "Fuck waiting!" He grabbed his shirt and ripped it apart, allowing it to fall to the floor in two halves. HOLY FUCK. "Ohhhhhwwwahhh" I tried to say the words but that garbled groan was all I managed to say. He was a god. Standing before me was an actual god. His chest was huge, his abs had become an 8 pack of super defined and pronounced perfectly rectangular bricks, and his lats made him look like he had wings. There were his legs; tree trunks bigger than my waist and calves bigger than melons. And then of course there was his huge dick, still standing hard as a fucking steel rod and leaking pre onto an ever increasing puddle on the carpet. And of course, my favorite muscles, his arms. They were gigantic. Covered in veins, his arms were huge and sexy as fuck. He had stopped growing at this point. My shorts were all wet and sticky, my dick was throbbing hard again, and my mouth was hanging open, practically drooling, as I stared at the specimen before me. I couldn't tell if I was dreaming or hallucinating, but I was becoming convinced that none of this was real. He kept that grin on his face, and started flexing his huge arms, gazing at them lovingly. He would run his fingers over their peaks, prodding them. And then he looked directly at me, into my eyes. "Told ya I was gonna grow for you. How into me are you now?" He chuckled with that question. He grabbed a hair tie from his dresser and pulled his locks up onto his head, and in raising his arms to do so, he made sure to flex his arms, making me drool. He tied it so it sat there like a pile of curly golden hair. "Well?" He asked. I felt paralyzed. I'd never in my wildest fantasies imagined this type of scenario, and yet it was a dream come true. "Hmmm, I'm gonna go ahead and say: you like. The drool hanging from your mouth is all I need for confirmation," he laughed. He flexed his pecs, and ran his fingers over them. He stepped toward me, and grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. FUCK! He'd gotten taller, too. He was shorter than me, and now he was at least 3 inches taller. "Let me make you more comfortable, dude." He put his hand into the waistband of my shorts and ripped them right off. My dick sprang up, hard as ever. After cumming so much today, I couldn't believe it was so hard. "That better? No more soggy shorts." I nodded in agreement. He placed his hands on both sides of my face and kissed me. "Relax dude! You're too tense!" He took my hand and placed it on his chest. Holy shit! His chest was hard as steel. So warm, and just so goddamn hard. And then he guided my hand to his bicep. He flexed it, and it bulged up huge. FUCK! His arm was a fucking mountain! "Oh my god Bryan," I finally managed to say. "You're fucking huge. Just... How? How?!" My dick ached. "My body can grow from the right sexual stimulation, as long as it's from the right person. The day I met you, I knew you were the right dude, too. I never knew how to bring any of this up, or even if you were gay, but when you finally said something after all this time, I decided to have some fun with it." He smiled. My hand remained on his bicep, and I didn't wanna move it. The warm stone under my hand was amazing to touch. I took my other hand and ran it over his abs. I felt him shudder as I did so. His dick was still rock hard, standing out, drooling pre. I reached down and grabbed it. "Ohhhhhnnnngyeah" he moaned. Then he grabbed my dick with his strong hand. His forearm rippled with muscle. I damn near came again. What he said next, though, made me want to pass out. "We haven't even had sex yet, and I've still got some growin' to do, bruh." Part 2
  25. Links to other chapters: Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend Chapter 20 Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 February 10th, 2022 2050 Hours Alvarez, already shirtless and oiling himself up, answered the knock on his door. Naturally, it was Lang. “Right on time. Come on in,” he said. Lang came in, babbling with his usual over-the-top excitement that preceded every Pose and Approve session. “So what do you think the brass thought?” he asked eagerly as he pulled off his t-shirt. Alvarez tossed a bottle of heated mineral oil to his buddy, who uncapped it and began to smear oil onto his muscles as well. “Did you see that old Admiral Whatsisname? Jesus, he looked awesomely p i s s e d o f f, man! And what about all those other dudes? Didja hear them? Didja hear them groaning?? Dude! D’ya think they all creamed their pants?” “Of course they did. They always do. It’s the guaranteed effect.” Alvarez sighed, oiling his triceps, shaking his head. "It's why we're here, man. It's the only reason." Lang laughed excitedly, working the oil into his muscles. “Man, those dudes ain’t never seen muscle like ours before, right? Right?” He flexed powerful biceps and nodded into one of the room’s full-length mirrors with a frowning sneer. “Asshole dudes never seen guns like these, right? pow! bam!!” “Oh, shut the fuck up,” muttered Alvarez. Lang stared. He was suddenly quiet. Alvarez continued to oil himself up. He looked worried. “What’d I say, dude?” Lang asked plaintively, his arms outstretched. Alvarez walked over to him and stood nose to nose before him, the bulges in Alvarez’s jeans and Lang’s posers just touching. He reached around Lang to the back of his head and, guiding his face close, planted a deep kiss onto his perfect lips. He worked his tongue into Lang’s mouth, who responded deeply. Then he pulled back and gazed long and hard into Lang’s deep brown eyes. “I’m sorry. Forget them,” he said reassuringly. “Let’s pose.” “Yeah! Pose and approve!” shouted Lang, and then giggled apologetically, clamping his hand over his mouth in response to Alvarez’s stern look. “Shut up. We don’t want everyone in here.” “Sorry, dude.” “Tonight is just us.” “Sorry, dude! Let’s rock!” Both turned and looked at their reflection in Alvarez’s three-paneled mirror. Excepting Alvarez’s mustache, the two powerful musclemen were almost exact duplicates of one another: tall, dark, and handsome, with deep brown eyes, taut cheekbones and shiny black hair. Their ripped, 285-pound physiques were perfect symphonies of bulging muscle. Lang nodded and forgot all about the brass. He did a crab crunch into the mirror. “Freakkkkyyy…” he muttered. “Swole. So swole.” His veins exploded with throbbing power. Alvarez was undoing his belt, unzipping his zipper, working his tight jeans gradually down his ripped quads. “Pose and approve time, man,” he said to Lang. “Pose and approve.” He picked up a remote and lowered the room’s lights, bringing up the glare of the overhead spotlight focused on the 15' posing dais in front of the mirrors. “Yeah, man, let’s get to it!” Lang ripped off his clothes and stepped up onto the dais as Alvarez kicked away his jeans. Both men were now only barely covered with skimpy royal blue competition posing trunks with hundreds of bright spangles sewn onto the extra-large pouches. The spangles caught the light and glistened like small sapphires. Alvarez stood before him. “You go first.” For an instant, Lang was honored to be going first, as the unspoken law between them during their nightly mutual muscle worship sessions was that Alvarez always got to pose before he did. Tonight was apparently different; even so, Lang was instantly caught up in the sheer joy of his own reflection of muscular near-perfection, and he forgot it right away. The muscleman stood quietly, his heavy arms around his back, his hands clasped. He waited. His ripped abs seemed to extend forever, cobbled fatless bricks laced with thick veins. His cock poled out in his posers. But still he waited. Alvarez was always in charge of Pose and Approve. “Go.” “I’m fucking ….. awesummmmm…..” Lang moaned, loving himself. He slowly curled his huge body into a side biceps pose and turned his head to cockily grin at his reflection. Then he glanced uncertainly at Alvarez in the mirror. “Talk to me,” he demanded, but Alvarez knew he was really begging. “Tell me I’m huge.” Alvarez was not about to let him down. “Yeah, you’re huge, man,” whispered Alvarez with warm smoothness, and he shifted his weight, smoothing the small pools of oil onto his delts. “Those guns of yours look to be about 23 inches. Check out your fist. Motherfucking huge. You could seriously do some serious bare knuckle damage with a fist like that.” His muscles were now gleaming with oil. Lang laughed joyfully. “I have, man! I’ve cleared a few barrooms in my day!” “Punching out ba-a-a-d dudes with those fists?” “Yeah, punching out the bad dudes! Check out these veins, man! They’re like super highways, man! Pumping, buddy. Pumpin’ it up for ya, man.” Lang pumped and flexed. Alvarez capped the bottle, set it down, and turned back, rubbing his hands together. “Oh, yeah, man. That’s good. Nice. Big old motherfucking biceps. Flex those guns for me, man.” “I’m flexing these guns for ya, bro. BOOM. Big muscle in the house,” he cried out joyfully. “Yeah, I see you, man. Nice. Nice big muscles. Biggest muscleman on earth, man.” “’Cept for you, bro. You’re bigger,” said Lang. Alvarez stepped onto the dais under the spotlight, and standing between Lang and the mirror, smoothed hot oil onto Lang’s glistening pecs, stroking his muscles appreciatively. They stood nose-to-nose, not six inches apart. Lang flexed powerful biceps. “Don’t know about that.” Alvarez smoothly applied oil to the granite softballs of Lang’s peaks. Lang stared at himself, transfixed. In his posing trunks his heavy cock was already pointing straight ahead. Alvarez clapped Lang’s huge biceps in his palms. “Like fucking rocks.” “Yeah, man, like fucking boulders, I know. Feel ‘em, man. Feel my muscles.” His eyes took in the mirror reflection of Alvarez’s awesome glutes. “I’m there, man, doing your muscles for you, man.” Alvarez licked his pecs, kissed each bulging biceps, and lightly bit Lang’s nipples. Then he knelt, leaned in and whispered again, his face now level to Lang’s bulging crotch. His breath softly exploded onto Lang’s stiffening cockshaft appearing as his posing trunks poled heavily outward. “You’re big, man. Real big.” “I’m big, hunh?” asked Lang. Now that Alvarez was on his knees and not blocking his upper body reflection, he was gazing at himself with hypnotic eagerness. “Motherfucking huge muscleman, dude.” Lang could feel Alvarez’s breath lightly exploding onto his junk. Still, he never looked away from his own reflection. “So reward me, man. Reward me for my muscles. Reward me for this pose.” “You got it, man. Here comes your reward.” “Thanks, bro,” purred Lang, gazing now in rapture at the pointing peaks of his biceps, his tongue slightly hanging out. His buddy approved. He was in heaven. He’d taken first place in the show running in his head. He and his buddy. “Just keep posing, man.” Alvarez gently opened his mouth and tenderly began to suck Lang’s big cock through his posing trunks. Lang glided into his next pose, a side-chest. And then a front lat spread. His pelvis pushed forward. His poser straining with cock. The pose and approve ritual always began with each man wearing his posing trunks for as long as he could manage to keep them on. They mentally pictured themselves on a competition stage, posing for overwhelmed judges and an audience of thousands of screaming fans, while under the lights, they were really posing only for each other, taking turns kneeling and occasionally bending and sucking each other’s erect cocks through their trunks. They fantasized no one else would be allowed to touch them. They’d turn and punch the lights out of anyone who dared. But the reality was that anyone who wanted to suck their cocks could do so. With just a little begging. After all, big musclemen deserve to get their cocks sucked. Now Alvarez was licking the bobbing cockhead through the straining cloth, running his tongue up and down Lang’s piss slit. Then he deep-throated him, holding the giant cock tenderly in his warm mouth. He held it for 30 seconds. Above him, Lang gulped and continued to pose. Then Alvarez slowly slid his lips off the big dick. The bulging fabric of the bursting poser was wet with saliva. He looked up and winked at the grateful Lang. “Big musclemen like you work hard,” he said with a quiet smile. “You pump those awesome muscles into unbelievable size. When you flex those muscles, it’s mind-blowing. You deserve a reward for all that hard work. You deserve to get your big cock sucked.” “Thanks, man.” “Don’t mention it, bro.” Alvarez ran his hands smoothly up and down Lang’s obliques, smacking his firm sides. He nodded, then looked up. “You got a lat spread you want to show me, man?” He licked his buddy’s abs and waited. “Comin’ up, “Lang breathed, and with a small explosion of breath, he grabbed the straps of his posers, pulled them taut, planted his fists into his obliques, and pumped his rocky pecs into their full mass. He spread his legs wide, the pouch of his posing trunks bulging forward with his fully erect 10-inch penis. Alvarez, still licking the washboard abs, stroked the cock with his thick fingers, glanced up and nodded. “Good lat spread. Great pecs. Lemme see you bounce ‘em. Show me, now.” “Okay.” Lang began to bounce his flexing pecs back and forth in dance of perfect machine gun muscle rhythm. “Yeah, man. Doin’ some serious pec dancing for you now. Boom. Boom. Boom. Watch ‘em, now. Watch these pecs of mine do their thing.” “Do that pec dance thing for me, baby,” said Alvarez. He watched Lang’s bouncing pecs for a full minute. Then he leaned in and licked the cockhead, again through the posers. “I approve. Here’s your reward.” Alvarez once again opened his mouth wide, and with a quick fleck of his tongue against his lips, took the bulging pouch of Lang’s posers full down his throat. Lang, his pecs still dancing, began to slowly pump his hips, fucking face. Bursts of warm precum began to stain the poser fabric, blooming into a widening pool of moisture. Alvarez could see the giant slit of Lang’s big penis head, and licked respectfully. After a minute, he released another small explosion of breath to signify to the bodybuilder kneeling before him that he was going to change his pose again. “Front double biceps,” he announced, and swung his arms up into mighty peaks. Alvarez pulled back slightly, licked the cockhead again, and rocked back on his heels. In his own posing trunks his cock was now full 11 inches erect and poling above the waistband, slap tight against his abs. “Lookin’ good. Now hold that for two minutes. No, three. Hold that pose solid without moving for three minutes. Then you’ll get your reward.” It was agony. Lang loved it. He fiercely held the mountainous peaks of his 23-inch biceps for three full minutes. Sweat began pouring down his face. “Flexing for ya, man!” He bared his lips and gritted his teeth into a grimace. His veins exploded down his neck. The veins in his forearms were like cables of steel wire. He raised one biceps, then the other, again dancing them back and forth. The baseball peaks of his guns gleamed in the spotlight. On his knees before him, Alvarez gazed up worshipfully, pumping his own cock right out of his posing trunks, but not touching Lang. “It’s been more than three minutes,” Lang finally said through his gritted teeth. “So reward me, man! Suck my cock, man!” “Think you deserve a reward?” Alvarez teased, now stroking Lang’s cock tenderly with his tongue. “For these guns? You bet, baby. Take that big cock of mine down your throat now!” “You got it, man.” Alvarez fell forward onto his knees again, his mouth wide open, and landed bulls-eye onto the giant pole bursting in Lang’s posing trunks, taking it all into his mouth. For three minutes, he sucked cock, up and down, licking, spitting, back and forth, deep sucking. Lang gazed down at him, relaxed his biceps a few seconds, and then resumed the pose. He was rock hard. “Dig these guns, man, and suck my cock. Suck your approval. Pose and approve me. Pose and approve.” “Yeah, you like it when I suck your cock while you’re posing?” breathed Alvarez. He licked the mammoth bulge in Lang’s posing trunks. “I can see you onstage, man. Flexing for all those asshole judges. Blowing them all away. Never seen biceps as big as yours. Never seen a cock as big as yours. Poling out in your posing trunks. Big old heavy bulge. Big cocks need to get sucked.” “Yeah? Well, man, I like it when you suck my cock. I like it when you suck my cock while I’m posing for those assholes.” Greedily, Alvarez licked the cloth covering Lang’s heavy testicles. “Lickin’ your balls now, man, licking your balls.” “Put ‘em in your mouth, man. Put my balls in your mouth.” Still flexing, he looked down and eyed Alvarez’s cock hungrily. Alvarez was pumping it now with both hands. It looked like a firehose. Suddenly Lang wanted to suck it. But he didn’t want Alvarez to stop. He dropped to his knees. Alvarez lowered with him, knowing what he wanted. As he watched, Lang flexed his right biceps one more time; Alvarez nodded approval; then Lang leaned in to Alvarez’s cock. He pulled the posing trunks over the cockhead onto Alvarez’s balls, and brought it into his mouth. Alvarez kept sucking. Together the two bodybuilders slowly lowered their huge bodies onto the posing dais under the spotlight and began to service each other with a full-body 69 grapple. Their arm muscles rippled against each other as each man gripped the other’s hard glutes, thick fingers gripping slabs of butt muscle. Each man ecstatically sucked his muscle buddy’s gigantic rod, their balls both still barely covered by their straining posing trunks. After 18 minutes of violent 69 sucking, their posing trunks finally tore from the strain. Rrr-i-i-i-i-pp! Their bullish balls burst free in unison, and each man eagerly licked the other’s heavy testicles passionately. “Next time, you pose first,” whispered Lang, and Alvarez looked over at him, grinned, and flexed a biceps. Lang nodded seriously. “I approve,” he said, “now here’s your reward,” and he bent in, sucking cock. The slurping, moaning, sucking sounds echoed down the corridor. In his room, Private Chris Hension, lying naked in bed, covered with sweat, his pole rising stiffly towards the ceiling, finally couldn’t take it any more. He jumped out of bed, grabbed a robe and a pair of purple spangly posers, stepped into them, fitting his huge member into the pouch with some difficulty, and tore out of his room. He ran down the hallway, his half-tumescent, half-sheathed cock waggling in the breeze, and stopped at Alvarez’s door. He waited an instant – and was about to knock – but, what the hell. He banged on the door, threw it open, and walked in. He knew it would be unlocked. Somehow instinctively he knew they were waiting for him. And so they were. The two musclemen lay on the dais, sucking each other’s cocks, their mammoth physiques coated with a glistening layer of sweat. Without removing dick from mouth, each man slowed for a moment and gazed up at Hension questioningly. “Were we making too much noise?” asked Alvarez, his speech garbled by Lang’s cock. “Yeah. I’d say,” said Hension. He threw his robe to the floor and stood before them in his favorite posing strap, his own erection poling straight ahead. He slammed the door behind him and stepped forward, whipping his arms up into a front double biceps. “Check me out,” he commanded, but there was a note of hopefulness in his voice. Of desperation, Alvarez quietly noted to himself. Good, good, all to the good. “Damn. He’s a pretty little muscleboy, ain’t he?” said Alvarez, momentarily releasing Lang’s cock. “He sure is,” said Lang, doing the same. “You see me every day, guys. I ain’t so little,” said Hension, flexing. “Maybe we’ve never noticed you before.” “Fuck you both.” “Oh, sorry. Maybe you should leave?” “NO! I wanna play too!” Hension flexed feverishly. “Okay. We’ll think about it.” Alvarez licked Lang’s dick a few times and lolled his head back towards Hension. Lang, however, appeared to take no more interest, turning his full attention to sucking his buddy’s dick. He bent in and deep-throated Alvarez’s stiff penis a few times, gagging slightly, and then resumed his gentle, steady sucking and licking. “You sure are pretty. Big biceps. Big. Good quads. Turn around.” Hension turned around, did a rear lat spread, pointing his shapely round glutes to the ceiling. “Nice. Awesome hams. Lang, you see those hams?” …..Suck suck suck suck suck…. “No? Hmmm. Guess he’s busy. Come on over here and flex for us while we suck some cock.” And Alvarez turned back to Lang’s quivering member, appearing indifferent. “I’ll show you guys,” muttered Hension, stepping onto the dais. He was ready. He’d been waiting a long time for this. And he’d been kidded, slapped, punched, and pushed around too long to not grab the moment. His moment. “I’m gonna flex now, and you’re gonna watch me!” he shouted. From the floor of the dais, Alvarez and Lang turned and looked up at him. There was a pause. “So go ahead,” said Alvarez. “Let’s see what you got.” He paused. “Boy,” he added.
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Guidelines, Terms of Use, & Privacy Policy.
We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..