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LORUS posted a topic in StoriesMY GRANDAD’S MUSCLES [Omnibus Edition with a new instalment coming soon] My father’s father became a recluse after his wife died. I never saw much of my grandparents growing up, but Grandad had a good reason for not showing up for Granny’s funeral. It was because my deadbeat father was there, and that was enough of an excuse. They’d hated each other. My father was never sober for more than a few hours at a time. My mother was just as bad, only her poison of choice were prescription painkillers chased down with as much weed as she could get hold of. So yeah, Grandad sold his business in the city and moved west to run a farm. It had always been his dream to completely get out of the rat race and live off the grid. We wrote to each other after he moved away. To be honest, I’d not seen much of him as a kid. He was always busy running his gyms. He had four of them. Once he’d even offered my father an olive branch by giving him his own gym to manage, if only he’d get off the booze. But dear old Anthony Ridge was too far gone, and his liver was on its last legs. Alcohol doesn’t just destroy your body and mind. It also wrecks family units. Speaking of ‘units’, we lost our home in 2010 because our mortgage arrears were crazy, so we had to move into a unit in a trailer park after the bank took back what was theirs. I didn’t really mind. There was just the three of us. And the unit was small enough not to accumulate too many possessions that could be thrown around during drink-fuelled rows. At least my father never raised his hand to me. He fell asleep one night with a lit cigarette in his mouth. My mother had already collapsed into bed, high from her cocktail of back pain meds and weed. I was staying over at my friend Rod’s place, which was what saved my life. By the time the fire brigade got the fire under control, the unit was just a smouldering shell of its former self. After my parents were laid to rest, at a modest ceremony attended mostly by my mother’s side of the family, I got a letter from my Grandad. He wasn’t one for using phones, so letters were his thing. He asked me how I was doing. I was staying at Rod’s; he’d been my crush since early secondary school, and for a time it was just me and him. But now he’d gotten Cindy Fleming up the duff, and both of them just just gone 18, so things weren’t good between Rod and his folks. Too many arguments. And since the unforeseen pregnancy Rod and me started quarrelling more than I cared for. When I told this to my Grandad in a letter, the reply I got back inside of a week said simply: “Come and live with me.” The letter came with train fare and a map on how to reach the farm. I had just finished my final exams at secondary school, so it was either get a job at a fast food place, or go live with my hermit grandparent. I really didn’t have great prospects, and Rod and me were drifting in different directions anyway. I decided to accept my Grandad’s offer. I took with me only what I could carry. Rod’s dad wanted to drive me to the station, but I declined. I needed to stand on my own two feet anyway. Besides, the train station was only a few minutes away by bus. The train ride took three hours. I arrived in the quaint village of Dundrevan just when it started to rain. It was a little after four in the afternoon. I took shelter in a tavern not far from the station. It was a poky little place; only two customers, one an elderly man nursing a pint in a corner. The other was a guy about my age, very handsome, but clearly drunk. Just as I entered, the barman was advising him he’d had enough to drink and to stop tearing up beer mats and flicking the pieces everywhere. “Do you do hot food?” I asked the barman. Only toasted sandwiches were served here, but I hadn’t eaten since breakfast at Rod’s, so anything would be welcomed. So I had a toasted cheese and ham sandwich and pot of tea. I never touch alcohol; I vowed from an early age never to turn into my father. When the rain stopped I decided to follow the map route to the farm. It was about a mile outside the village, but I didn’t mind the walk. The sun had come out and it even started to get a bit warm. I considered taking my shirt off; we Ridge men are blessed with really great genetics. I didn’t work out at all, but I looked like I did. Although my skin was a tad milky, my chest and abs were quite defined. I had a bit of muscle on me, and I wasn’t afraid to show it off. But this place was really deserted, so no one would see me. Or so I thought. I made my way down a narrow laneway with honeysuckle bushes to my left, and seemingly endless wooden fencing with the bark left on, to my right. At the end of the lane I was about to pass a phone box, when someone stepped out of it and looked at me as though he’d known me all his life. “Fuck me, lad. If you’re not related to big Gordie Ridge, then I’m a monkey’s uncle.” The man was in his forties, a bit overweight, with a comb-over to hide his bald patch. His shirt looked like it hadn’t been ironed, ever, and he smelt of onions. But he seemed jolly, and at least he wasn’t carrying a knife with intent to rob me of my duffel bag. “Er, he’s my Grandad. I’m going to stay with him at his farm,” I said simply. He was right in the sense that facially I looked more like my Grandad than my father. “Well now, this is the thing. You’ve got quite the walk ahead of you, lad. And you might want to cover yourself up there. You have to pass the convent and you’ll give the nuns heart attacks with all those muscles on ya!” I liked this man immensely. “I’m not really that muscled,” I said, feigning bashfulness. Like I said, I didn’t work out. What I had on me was a natural thing passed down. Pity my late father decided to abuse his body rather than maximise on what nature gifted him with. “Well no… no you’re not, if you don’t really mind me saying. But the folks around here are somewhat in awe of Gordie Ridge. He’s like a folk legend around these parts. But you can tell you’re a chip off his block, definitely. My name’s Silas, by the way. Silas Brandywine at your service.” “I’m Stephen. Stephen Ridge,” I said, putting my shirt back on. I didn’t want any nun fatalities on my conscience. “Why are people in awe of my Grandad?” I thought back to when I last saw him. I was seven, so ten years ago. He was big, then, but nothing jaw-dropping, although back then I viewed him through the eyes of a kid. I remember seeing weight-lifting trophies at his house, but I’d only been there a couple of times. Silas eyed me with a twinge of curiosity that made his eyes gleam and his ruddy complexion to bloom as he concentrated his visual summary of me. “Haven’t seen him recently, have we, Stephen Ridge?” The community police officer in an archaic Fiat Panda trundled past, sounded the horn at Silas, who summarily waved back. This was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone, and was about two decades behind the rest of the world. “Not since I was a nipper, Silas,” I chirped, trying to be pleasant. I was tired from the journey, but I was grateful for not having a short fuse. “Oh well then, I might give ye a bit of advice, kiddo.” Silas drew closer to me as though he were about to reveal the secret to life itself. “When you faint at the sight of him, make sure you land on something soft, lest you crack your head right open to let out the shock.” “Er, okay… I think.” I decided to continue on my way. I stopped just before the convent. A mischievous thought ran through my mind in which I was topless once again and flirting with the nuns working in their apiary, causing them to come over all flushed and taken by my boyish good looks. I decided against it. Did they even have an apiary? For some reason I believed that all monks and nuns kept bees. After the convent the map told me to cross a field as a shortcut. I walked for another fifteen minutes, maybe. Then I came to a red iron gate, recently painted by the looks of it. A sign nearby said: “Ridge Farm. Keep Out!” So I’d arrived. I wondered how many acres of land my Grandad owned. It was the only farm for miles around. I couldn’t see any livestock, but maybe he wasn’t that kind of farmer. Then I saw the out-buildings beyond a range of oak trees. There were three white, rectangular sheds; obviously these were the nucleus of Grandad’s farming enterprise. Beyond that nothing but trees, trees, and more trees. The house itself was typically rural, probably a hundred years old or more. There was a barn and a pen in the courtyard with six pigs in it. So maybe he was a pig farmer. But if so why did he only own six pigs? My Grandad was in the barn. I could hear him singing, although I couldn’t put a name to the tune. There was a lot of clanking of metal, and grunting to go along with the singing. I didn’t want to frighten him by just appearing at the door; he was in his sixties, after all. Isn’t it dangerous to sneak up on an old person? Then I noticed an old-fashioned bell sitting on a windowsill up at the house. I opted to use it to announce my presence. The grunting, singing, and clanking noises ceased. I’d gotten my Grandad’s attention. He came out of the barn. I looked at him. My breathing seized up. Silas Brandywine had been right about one thing. I fainted. *** When I came to I was lying on a couch in what could only be the living room of the farmhouse. I immediately noticed the renovations; the door frames were taller and wider than standard door frames. The ceiling, too, looked higher than you’d expect a ceiling to be. The interior furnishings were rustic and old fashioned. A painting of a milkmaid milking a cow hung over a spartan mantel. A grandfather clock in a corner ticked somnolently. Shafts of dying sunlight permeated the room in which dust motes seemed to hang, fixed rigidly in time itself. I instinctively felt my head for evidence of injury, but there was none. I was thankful for that. As my senses grew more attuned to my surroundings, my nose picked up the delicious smell of… was it beef stew? I got up from the couch, a little wobbly on my feet, but I soon regained my balance. I followed the smell of the stew to the large kitchen at the rear of the house. It needed to be big, because my Grandad was, well… HUGE! He was shirtless, save for an apron which he let hang untied at the back. His back was the widest, most muscular back I’d ever seen. And there wasn’t a hair on his back or shoulders, unlike my dad who seemed to have gotten the hairy gene from my grandmother’s side. He wore khaki cargo shorts and was barefooted. I gauged his height to be between 6’ 10 and 7’; the Ridge men had always been tall. I myself stood at an impressive 6’ 4”. At 18 I probably wasn’t done growing yet. My dad had stopped growing at 6’ 5”, the waster. He could have been impressive, instead of a deadbeat. Gordon Ridge wasn’t a weight-lifter; well, maybe he was in his younger days. But now he was utterly a bodybuilder, and the biggest, most muscular man I’d ever seen. “Uh...Grandad?” “Hope you’re hungry. My beef stew is the best in the world, Stephen. You’re probably famished from your trip.” My Grandad turned around. I feel terrible for admitting this, but my dick instantly firmed up at the sight of him. Yeah, I know we’re related, but I wasn’t prepared for what he had built of himself. I blamed my stiffy on a chemical impulse in my brain, or something like that. He was incredibly handsome. So what if he was sixty-four? He’d been stunning-looking in his youth, as I recall. Time had been good to his brand of handsomeness, with lines of age in his face that would look destructively hampering on others. But on him they gave him a wisdom that commanded respect, along with his obvious size and strength. Thank heavens I hadn’t tucked in my shirt; it hid my arousal well. I really didn’t want Grandad to get a ‘pervy’ vibe from me. I didn’t want him to know I’m gay, not yet anyway. I had no idea what he thought of such things. I hoped he wasn’t a homophobe like my father was. “I could use a hot meal, thanks.” I tried not to stammer. But he could clearly tell I was astonished by how he looked. He was overwhelming. “You’ve grown up well, Stephen. You were only a bean when last I saw you. What are you, six three, six four?” “Four,” I replied shakily. Grandad’s smile was warm and reassuring. I had nothing to fear here. “I was shorter than you at that age. But as you can see, a lot of growth came later.” He wasn’t smug, or modest, so when his arm raised up to form a single bicep pose, I think he did it without realising. A huge, melon-ball bicep formed and bulged upon his command. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. He picked up on this and played it down with a chuckle. All he said was: “Thirty-one inches. So far.” He winked proudly and went back to tending to the stew. He suggested I wash up before supper. He told me where the bathroom was. I was so relieved to get up there so that I would masturbate, get that over with, and, hopefully, keep my arousal to a minimum. This is purely chemical with me. There is no way I would allow myself to develop an unhealthy attraction to my own progenitor. When I returned to the kitchen, there was a big bowl of stew waiting for me. Grandad was already seated on the other end of the big oak table. He tore off a chunk of bread from a sizable loaf before handing it over to me. “I like to dip the bread in and use it like a spoon. Then I just drink down the remainder out of the bowl. I don’t get many guests up here,” he said between chews. A quivering smile formed on my lips, so I decided to copy his method, and dipped some bread into the stew. It was very tasty, and he didn’t skimp on the beef either. The obvious elephant in the room was his physique, but he didn’t seem interested in bringing it up during our first meal together. “Thank you for taking me in, Grandad. I was at a bit of a crossroads,” I said. I can’t remember ever eating a meal this good. My mother had never been one for cooking. Dinner had almost always been take-out back then. Living at Rod’s had been better, but because both his parents worked, dinner was usually more convenient than nutritious. This was new to me. I ate three big hunks of bread and finished all the stew in my bowl whilst Grandad helped himself to seconds, and then thirds. “Sorry, but I have to eat big to stay big,” he said, after demolishing the third bowl. He let out a very loud and very manly belch, then leaned back in his big farmhouse chair and patted his cobbled belly. He still had the apron on. I really hoped he’d remove it. But sitting opposite him gave me plenty of time to take in the enormity of this man. He really was a super-human in every sense of the word. His rugged, handsome head was supported by the thickest bull-neck I’d ever seen. It just seemed to widen as it sloped down to his mammoth traps, and they in turn sat on shoulders capped with thick, rippled deltoids. He had to be at least five feet wide at the shoulders, maybe more. His chest was just beautiful; thick, bloated pectoral masses that made the neck of the apron look like a length of yarn threaded through a handkerchief. I loved the way he had to lean forward and hunker down over his bowl so as not to get any stew on the table. This position highlighted his shoulders best, for he flexed and bulged his muscles without thinking. His biceps and forearms looked powerful enough to snap concrete blocks in two (I had no idea as to feats of strength he’d demonstrate for me later). “Um, you don’t wear shirts then?” Oh why did I go and ask that? I could’ve asked him about the farm, and what he did here, but I had to let my dick do the talking instead. I hope he didn’t take offence. He smiled and ran a finger around his bowl to pick up the last dregs of stew, which he then sucked clean. His bad manners at the table made him human. His muscles made him a god. “I mostly wear just jockstraps when I’m alone here. I get them specially made. Really comfortable and with just the best support a man can get. But the shorts are out of respect for you being here.” Oh my god, I felt myself thinking. That is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. I think I needed to wank again. My Grandad was not only super-huge, he was super-sexy. I had to think about the nuns at the convent I’d passed earlier, running around in only their knickers whilst chased by swarms of angry bees. That helped with my arousal a little. “I wear jocks sometimes. Rod and me were on the school rugby team, but we sucked at it.” I just wanted to keep the subject of jockstraps alive. “Who’s Rod?” “My best friend. I was living with him and his family for a bit after the… you know.” I didn’t want to bring up the subject of the fire. I knew enough about Gordon Ridge to know that he never discussed anything to do with his son. “It was good of them to put you up like that. But I’m kin. Your place is with me now.” Grandad got up to clear the bowls into the sink. He emptied what was left of the stew into a plastic container and placed it in the fridge. I helped by washing up. Later Grandad said he was going back to the barn. “What do you get up to there?” I asked, as if I didn’t already know. “Bodybuilding,” said Grandad with a smirk. He took off the apron and chucked it into a basket he kept for dirty laundry. I could finally get a proper look at his torso. Every muscle was just popping out of him. He was ripped beyond belief, but carried immense size also. I couldn’t begin to guess at his weight, but he was at least three times as big as a Mr Olympia super-heavyweight competitor. Why the hell did he shy away from public life and waste all this muscle on a lonely farm in the middle of nowhere? If I looked like him I’d be all over the internet, doing talk shows, winning trophies, being fucking amazing and loving every moment. I guess he had his reasons. “Oh Grandad, you’re enormous,” I couldn’t keep myself from mouthing. He smiled warmly, his face creasing up with wrinkles that only complimented his good looks. “One day, maybe,” he said simply. My erection bloomed under my shirt. The thought of this white-haired behemoth actually getting bigger than he was now almost made me bust a nut there and then. “You… you, don’t think you’re… er… big enough?” I stammered. My cock hurt inside my shorts. It needed adjusting. “Nope… not by a mile, Stephen.” And to illustrate his point he flexed a most muscular which caused alarmingly defined muscularity to burst from his skin. Every last part of him heaved with muscle clarity, and as he grunted and groaned — leaning into the pose with rising force — his face and neck flared red from the effort. He kept flexing, demanding more blood to course into his muscle fibers. I felt my own blood coursing as I witnessed this incredible spectacle. “I’ll never be big enough,” he grunted, this time changing to a full lat spread pose. His upper body widened and thickened; his pecs heaved upward and deep striations cracked across their mighty surfaces. He partially rolled up his shorts before lifting his arms to clasp the back of his head with his hands. He then pulled his abs taut. They almost crunched with definition. He rolled his mighty thighs one after the other, and the clusters of muscles there boiled with size and ferocious power. He relaxed and flexed, alternating between the two in order to give me quite the show. I don’t think he was aware of his own erection, but I could see the tenting happening in the front of his khakis. It didn’t feel weird. We were two guys hanging out, right? Then he said: “Come to the barn. Watch me lift.” My mouth formed an aghast “O” shape. I was related to probably the biggest bodybuilder in the world, and now he was inviting me to watch him lift. I had two choices: I could accept his invitation, and, hopefully find some way to ‘relieve’ myself again without him noticing, or I could run for the hills back to Rod’s place and put all this out of my mind. But Grandad had shown me nothing but kindness, so it would have been wrong of me to run out on him, especially now that night was fast approaching. Once the pigs were put into their night enclosure, Grandad and me went into the barn. It smelt a little of pig-shit, but he filled his lungs with a great deal of it and it seemed to energise him a little. I supposed I’d have to get used to the smells of farm life. It was as typical a barn as barns come, although there was a squat rack, bench, and free weights present. As he lit oil lamps I could see more things, specifically a leg press machine and another for doing lat pull-downs. He pretty much had his own gym here; he used to be in the business so he used what he needed to isolate every muscle-group. But there was nothing magical about the set-up here. How, then, did he get so big? There was also a scale in the barn, one you see at livestock fairs. Obviously a standard human scale was too small for my Grandad. He stepped out of his shorts and flung them over his shoulder. It was as though he was suddenly unaware that he had a guest. He went over to the scale and stood confidently on the pressure pad. “Hunngh! Only five up from yesterday,” he grunted. He looked disappointed. “Five… pounds?” I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. But then he’d just eaten a lot of food, so the scale was obviously picking up on that. “I gained fifteen pounds on Wednesday. That was a good day. Only five since yesterday. Gotta lift now, Stephen”. Oh well, at least he was aware of me again. The jockstrap looked amazing on him. It was white and black; the thick black waistband married well with the white pouched front and supporting straps at the rear. He was beautiful to look at. Every last inch of him was manliness exaggerated beyond belief. And as he muscle-waddled over to the bench to begin his evening presses, his dick meat and weighty gonads bobbed and swung heavily before him. He was very hung, but then, so was I. Well, not as much as he was, but I had a dick worthy of a porn-star. Those Ridge genes again. Fifteen pounds, did he say? But such gains so quickly were impossible. Maybe there was something in the water. But if that were so, then the few people I’d so far met from the village didn’t reflect this theory. It had to be something else. I couldn’t chalk it up to just genetics alone. If that was the reason, then… did it mean that I, too, had the potential to look like Grandad? I was stunned to silence as I watched him deftly load up the bar with crazy amounts of weight. I did a quick count of the plates and added the weight up to be… fuck… a metric tonne? Could a bar really hold that much? Maybe this gear was specially reinforced for Grandad. Didn’t he need a spotter? He positioned himself correctly on the bench, and gripped the bar firmly enough to make his knuckles glow white. He eased it off the rests and took the strain. It wobbled a little at first, but as his confidence grew, so did his strength. He let the bar come down near his enormous pecs. Then he pressed up, slowly at first, but once a rhythm kicked in, a man/machine synergy came into effect. I watched Grandad own the iron, play with it like it was a toy, and press it repeatedly, over and over. It was as if his chest grew with every inhalation, every measured, controlled movement. And when he exhaled, it was audibly masculine in its output. By the time he’d hit his seventieth or eightieth rep, he was screaming like a man possessed. I actually felt a little scared of him at this point, but I was as rigid as my erection, now, transfixed to the spot and unable to stop myself from being ‘blown away’ by the power of my father’s father. He got up from the bench when he was done, and flexed his pecs a few times. Then he cupped each one firmly and felt up their combined mass. “Good pump there,” he said simply. He pounded them a little, like the way gorillas sometimes do with their chests. It was so manly. I turned around to adjust my junk in my pants. Grandad didn’t seem to notice. He’d already moved over to the leg press. The machine was set to two tonnes. I couldn't believe the numbers. “Climb on up, Stephen. I could do with the extra weight,” Grandad said with a smirk. “Oh, er….I,” I didn’t know what to say. I suddenly felt awkward. And I really wanted to shoot another load. “I hope you’re not afraid of heights, lad. You’ll be helping me out around the place, and some of the work will involve climbing. You’ll have to get used to it.” His tone was more adamant-sounding now. I was fine with it. I wasn’t one for freeloading off my generous grandfather and had every intention of pulling my weight and doing my fair share (whatever that turned out to be). “Er, okay. I’ll get right up there, Grandad,” I responded. I gingerly climbed up onto the carriage of the machine. Not the most comfortable thing to sit on, I must add. I had to somehow wedge my arse between the weights and the foot plate, although my feet occupied the side of the foot plate opposite where Grandad’s feet were positioned confidently and correctly. Looking down at him from this angle — where he was seated at an incline — he was all chest and groin, both of which bulged almost obscenely. He was clearly erect himself, but that was fine. We were two guys hanging out, right? He was just showing off, getting me to climb onto the carriage. I mean, I only weigh about 225, so my weight on top of two fucking tonnes was negligible. “Ready? Hang on to your britches,” said Grandad. And he began to take the strain. At first I thought he was going to tear some muscles and lose to the weight. I had visions of tumbling off the thing. But this didn’t happen. He began to push the colossal weight; it barely looked as if he was straining. His face showed only determination; other than that it was devoid of emotion. He almost looked disappointed at how easily his juggernaut legs pushed both the weight and his grandson upwards, over and over. I held on as best I could, but after thirty or so repetitions, I began to feel seasick. Grandad sensed this and decided to let me off. “The machine is maxed out. I'll need a new one designed. Maybe there's a way to lash two together, one for each leg.” He suddenly seemed lost in thought. “Your legs definitely got a good pump there,” I remarked, and this seemed to please my progenitor to the point where he blasted out one pose after another. I wanted to ask him what his secret was. But I decided it could wait. I needed to use the toilet in order to ‘rub one out’ again. But before I could leave the barn: “So you like your old Grandad’s physique, huh?” Grandad bounced his hefty pecs over and over. I couldn’t help but notice how his cock was so swollen and hard, it had pushed the waistband of the jockstrap away from his body. I felt inwardly disgusted for allowing my gaze to linger there. If he noticed, he didn’t seem to care. “You’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” He came over to me and ruffled my brown hair, like he did when I was seven. I didn’t mind if he still saw me as that little kid from ten years ago. “Ever thought about bodybuilding?” I shrugged. Sure, I had inherited the best genetics a guy could ever hope for. Maybe I could do more with my body. “Not really. I just try to focus on not ending up like dad!” SHIT, I shouldn’t have mentioned him in Grandad’s presence. “That alcoholic piece of CRAP!!!!!” Grandad’s temper erupted. From what I knew of him, I’d always seen him as an easy-going, never angry type. But now… He swelled up in size; was it my imagination or did he really have the power to ‘hulk out’? He did that growling “Incredible Hulk” pose you often saw the character do on the show just before the Hulk ripped off the remains of his shirt and after Bixby changed into Ferrigno,. Muscles and veins bulged hugely under his skin. There was the back half of a broken tractor just outside the barn. He jogged over to it and began to lift it off the ground. How much did half a tractor weigh anyway? Seething with anger, my grandfather lifted the machinery over his head like an average human might lift a toddler onto their shoulders. Then he ripped it to pieces and flung the pieces far and wide. I prayed they wouldn’t hurt someone. “I did everything for him,” he barked, and the pigs nearby began squealing and adding to the ruckus. I think Grandad needed to calm down. I was genuinely scared now. He made a most muscular pose and more and more huge muscles bulged insanely all over him. Was he… growing? Snarling like a slavering beast, he tore up a length of fencing, posts and all, and hurled them into a far field. Then he muscle-bounded around to a garage area, and I almost wet myself when he single-handedly ripped the door off the garage and then dragged a four-wheel drive outside where he could better pick it up. My Grandad was lifting a fucking jeep like is was made of balsa wood. “I even gave him his own gym. But what’d he do? Got fucking wasted again. Didn’t even try the 12 steps. Well I’ll give him 12 fucking steps alright. GRRRRRAAAAAWWWWRRRR!!” I’d never seen a jeep do an impersonation of an aircraft before. How high did he throw it anyway? I listened for a crash sound. After thirty seconds, nothing. A minute passed. Maybe it came down in a lake. Who was to say? I was terrified of my Grandad now. I shouldn’t have mentioned my father to him. I plucked up the courage to leave the barn where I’d been standing just inside the entrance. My Grandad was rampaging about the farm, looking for more things to destroy. Out of sheer desperation, the pigs broke out of their enclosure and ran for their lives, squealing noisily. Grandad made eyes at the house itself. If he could throw a jeep so far, then he could easily demolish a house with his fists. Where would we live then? I needed to intervene. “Grandad… stop… please. Anthony’s dead, remember? I promise I’ll never mention him again. Just please don’t smash anything else.” That seemed to calm him down. My Grandad was even bigger now. I couldn’t believe such a thing was possible. He was totally naked since his ‘hulk out’ had caused his junk to grow to humongous proportions. Somewhere about the farm, his jock lay in tatters. His mighty chest heaved with every exerted breath. It looked as though he was still pumping up. It’d been a crazy day. My massively muscular Grandad was a giant of a man, and completely naked before me. Strangely, my erection had subsided, and I was glad I could think with my brain again. He was silent for a time. Then: “I’m sorry about that, Stephen. I’ll go put some clothes on.” A kind, warm smile returned, replacing a face of pure malice and rage. “Just a jockstrap will do, seeing as you’re used to that and all,” I remarked, trying to further lighten the moment. Then I took my shirt off, just because it seemed right. I left my pants on, though. That would have been weird. Grandad gave me the once-over and nodded his approval. “You should lift, lad. You remind me of myself when I was your age. Although, I had a good fifty pounds on you. Come inside. I have an apple pie in the fridge. I always eat pie after a workout.” And so that was how my first day went living with my super-strong, massive bodybuilding Grandad. I’d probably spend the night beating off in my new bed. Turned out the pie tuckered me out and I decided to turn in. Grandad was bigger now, so he struggled in places around the house that weren’t designed to accommodate his new size. He’d have to make more renovations. But at least there still was a house to renovate. *** I suppose it was to be expected Grandad would have me up at the crack of dawn; it was the farming way, right? Despite his massive size, I hadn’t heard him come into the bedroom to open the curtains, leave a cup of tea on the nightstand beside my bed, and also a special gift next to it. But he’d been in and out without waking me; the first rays of glorious morning sunshine permeating the room was enough to rouse me out of a somewhat restful sleep. I swung my feet to the floor, rubbing sleep out of my eye with one finger, whilst taking the teacup up to my lips with the other. The tea had sugar in it; I normally took it just with milk. But I didn’t mind. It was a nice gesture. An even nicer gesture was the other gift he left me: a brand new jock-strap; I guess these were now my ‘work clothes’. Anyone else might have been creeped out by this, but I didn’t feel that way. My Grandad was an exceptional person, and I liked to think this was his way of bonding with his grandson. It was all good in my book. I decided to ‘break it in’ immediately. This helped to waken me up and begin acclimating to my new life at Ridge Farm. It was so comfortable and it made my package look awesome. I looked at myself in the mirror (yup, the room came with a full-length mirror). The jock really did my body justice. I felt so manly, and looked so athletic. Had my first night at the farm caused changes to my body? I thought I looked more muscular, but maybe it was wishful thinking. I was tall, therefore any additions to my muscularity would have to be significant ones, right? Still, I found myself ‘making muscles’ to my reflection, and within a couple of minutes I was erect as fuck. I wondered how long it would take my milky skin to get tanned as I worked outdoors. Grandpa’s skin tone was so healthy. He really didn’t look sixty-four. I decided to take a quick shower and beat off under the spray. I would probably be horny for the rest of the day anyway, so maybe it was best I ‘milk’ myself as early as I could. When I went downstairs — wearing only my new jockstrap plus the sneakers I arrived in — Grandad was slaving over the stove again. This time he didn’t wear the apron. That pleased me. He, too, wore only a jockstrap. I will admit to the guilty pleasure of sprouting a semi at the sight of his massive delta-back supported by a waspish waist, which itself drew its foundation from the biggest, juiciest muscle-butt I’d ever seen. It bulged gorgeously out of the straps of the jock which framed it perfectly. The muscle dimples that popped in and out of the glutes as he worked on breakfast were a sight to behold. His legs worked clumsily against each other for space, but he had it nailed down. There was something so arousing to see a bodybuilder get so huge that it made walking look awkward. But there was nothing awkward about Gordon Ridge. He was truly magnificent. “Good morning, Grandad,” I said simply. He turned around, looking huge. He smiled at me, noticed I was wearing the gift he’d left me, and then nodded his approval. “I hope you like porridge,” he said, “It’s very nutritious. This is my special recipe, lad. A healthy body is required for labouring on the farm.” A healthy body? In his case that was an understatement. He beckoned me to sit at the table where there was a place set out for me. Next to my bowl was some sort of milkshake in a tall glass. I gingerly sniffed at it. “What’s this?” I inquired. “My morning shake. It’s full of all the essentials. I rounded the pigs up single-handedly. But you’re going to help me repair the fence I smashed last night.” He appeared somewhat rueful. His rage of the night before actually seemed like a dream to me now. He ladled a hearty two dollops of porridge into my bowl. The breakfast had an ‘earthiness’ to its aroma. I couldn’t put my finger on it, though. Still, I was as hungry as a growing 18 year-old can be, so I dug into my breakfast, and was pleased when it came with two rounds of wholemeal buttered toast. Grandad sat down opposite me to eat. His appetite was as massive as he was. He was already through his first bowl of porridge by the time I’d taken my fourth spoonful. I must admit that he was a really good cook. “Your strength is incredible, Grandad,” I couldn’t wait to say. He smiled gratefully. I think he was glad I was here. A guy like him shouldn’t spend so much time alone. Although, I had yet to learn how he associated with the local village folk. Silas from yesterday mentioned he was a legend to the people around here. “I could be stronger,” he said simply. I had to comment: “Is that, like, a curse to a bodybuilder?” “What do you mean?” He eyed me through air that could have been sliced apart with a knife. Did I say the wrong thing? Oh, I really didn’t want to piss him off again. I liked this house. I didn’t want it reduced to rubble. “Er… um… I didn’t mean anything sinister, Grandad.” I chose my words carefully. He remained silent. I nervously dry-swallowed and felt my stomach churning up butterflies. My bottom lip started quivering. I spoke slowly, carefully. “I mean… do you feel, sometimes, that you can never be big enough? Are there limits to how huge you’d like to be?” Please, please, please, don’t hulk out on me, I thought to myself. Did I mention Anthony this time? I hoped that my Grandad didn’t isolate himself from society because he couldn’t control his temper. He broke the ensuing silence by chewing a piece of toast noisily. Then he knocked back his morning shake before getting up to refill his porridge bowl. After what seemed like a small age, he answered my questions. “Yes to the first question; no to the second.” Then he opened a kitchen drawer and took out an old newspaper. He handed it to me. “Turn to page four,” he instructed. I opened the newspaper. The date at the top was from two years ago, not long after Granny’s funeral. The main article on the page read: “CHILD LABOUR RING FOILED BY FLYING TRACTOR” In the early hours of Monday morning, an organised syndicate of illegal child labourers had their operation destroyed by a tractor when it struck their base of operation, a hitherto abandoned creamery near the village of Dundrevan. Five of the six men, all non-nationals, suffered minor injuries, whilst one remains in a critical condition in hospital. Police who shortly after arrived at the scene discovered twenty-two children — also non-nationals, with ages ranging between 8 and 14 — wandering about the area in a state of apparent confusion. The children are currently being cared for at the Sisters of Mercy convent where they are being treated for shock and malnutrition. Examination of their living conditions revealed that the children were being used to manufacture narcotics intended for sale both here and abroad. Police are keen to question the men involved, and it is not currently known how a tractor happened to fall from the sky with precision enough to end this brutal crime against innocent children. I was a little confused, not sure what Grandad was expressing by showing me the newspaper. He then opened up: “The nuns tipped me off about the place. This fucking place. Honestly, one police man, and he’s close to retirement, too. He couldn’t investigate a pimple on the end of his nose. So the Mother Superior came to me. She said she was passing there one day and heard what she thought was a child getting beaten. And where was PC fucking Plod at the time? Playing cards and drinking gin with Silas Brandywine. No wonder those human trafficking bastards set up shop here. Perfect place to get away with all kinds of shit.” Grandad paused to flex his muscles. He brought both arms up to a double biceps. When he said his biceps were thirty-one inches yesterday, they looked thicker than my waist now. Veins popped out of his skin and seemed to help him inflate himself bigger. I was hard as a rock again, but I was seated at the table, so he didn’t notice. “So I did what any father would do. I saved those kids. The tractor was here when I bought the place, but it was shot. I’d staked out the creamery myself, getting the layout and all that. My hearing is pretty good, and I could tell that the children weren’t in the main house, but in one of the outbuildings, probably used to store the dairy products prior to shipping when the place was operational. It was heavily padlocked, which wouldn’t have been a problem for me.” He paused to crank out a most muscular. OMG, he looked bigger — way bigger — than yesterday. That could only mean his strength was increasing by the hour. I had to ask another question: “Why didn’t you just bust the kids out there and then?” “I guess I have a flair for the dramatic, Stephen. Plus, I couldn’t tell if those wankers had guns or who they were connected to. Was it a localised operation, or was there something bigger behind it?” He shrugged, causing his massive pecs to heave and flex. Veins erupted across his shoulders and chest. “I planned to demolish the entire house, but my aim was off. Fortunately the tractor hit the part where most of them were sleeping. It’s a disappointing miracle only one of them was seriously injured. But he lived. They all were extradited back to whatever shit-pile they crawled from. The kids were all orphans, but I hear they’re doing well in foster homes and such.” “That part of the tractor from last night. Was it…?” “Yup, the very same. After the police were done with their investigation, they just up and left. The buildings were demolished for safety reasons and what was left of the tractor was just lying there when I returned a few weeks later. I decided to keep it as a memento.” “Aren’t you worried the cops will connect you to the incident through the tractor remains?” Then I remembered: he completely destroyed what was left of it last night. “Pimple on the end of his nose,” Grandad reminded me, referring to the local constabulary’s incompetence. I had to ask another question: “What does your heroic deed do with how huge you want to get?” Oh I hoped this question wouldn’t set him off again. I silently cringed and my erection subsided. Grandad didn’t answer immediately. For a moment he was lost to his flexing. He performed weight-free bicep curls before me, his attention rapt on the bulging balls of muscle that erupted out of his arms as he flexed and pumped them. He grunted with something akin to minor satisfaction. “Back then I weighed less than half of what I do now, which of this morning is one hundred and twenty-five stone.” He paused to allow me to take that one in. Wait, he said ‘stones’. I had to do some mental arithmetic. I couldn’t believe the number. “You’re over 1700 pounds. Grandad… that’s… it’s…” I didn’t have the words. “I plan to weigh over a tonne before the week is out, lad. See what I did back then to free those kids? I must be way stronger now. I moved here to get away from shit. I was stressed out trying to keep my businesses afloat. Too many gyms completely saturated the market and my profits were diminishing. Before I knew it I was taking out second mortgages on the properties, but haemorrhaging capital faster than new bills get printed. And your grandmother’s cancer was so hard to bear.” He didn’t elaborate. I hadn’t known Granny all that well; you can blame ‘dear old dad’ for that one. But Grandad was opening up to me, now. And that was a good thing. It helped me to acquire a better understanding of the person he is, and the events that led to him looking the way he does. But there was more to learn, and I’m sure he’d tell me when he was good and ready. “But I have to get stronger, Stephen. If those fuckers — or their associates — ever come back here, I want to be so fucking strong, they’ll shit out of their windpipes in fear when they see me. No child will ever again unduly suffer on my watch.” He performed a full lat spread. Fuck, he was huger than when he last did that pose. His muscles opened up and expanded in all directions. His upper pecs seemed to suck his head down into them. He liked the feeling so much that his junk swelled massively into the biggest boner I’d ever seen. He was hung like a horse; no… his made horse dicks look small. “And then there’s the… wall,” he said, sombrely. My eyebrows peaked with curiosity. I was already tugging my pud with one hand beneath the table. If Grandad noticed, he didn’t respond. We were just two guys hanging out, right? Perfectly natural for blokes to get off to one another’s manliness. It’s only hormones and chemical exchanges, nothing more. Okay fuck it… I fancied the shit out of him. My own grandfather. But it’s not like he’d been in my life much prior to this. We’d been pretty much estranged because of the bad blood between a father and his son. Couldn’t I just pretend that we weren’t related, simply to make masturbating less awkward? Wait, what was this about a ‘wall’? “Wall?” I’d been close to coming, but I was glad I didn’t. My curiosity got the better of my libido. Was he speaking about a real wall or a figurative one? I had to know more about what was going on here, especially now that I’d put down roots. In fact, I’d yet to learn about how important a role ‘roots’ played in all of this. “If you’re done with breakfast, I’ll show you around more of the farm,” said Grandad. Then he did a side-chest pose and his muscle-tits gobbled up a huge amount of space. Dimples and striations erupted across their masses. My dick went from semi-flaccid to rock hard in a heartbeat. “Oh shit,” I groaned, my words emerging as a panicky croak. I leapt up from the table, my jockstrap hugely tented out in front of me. I cupped all that I could of the bulge with my hand and made a beeline for the stairs. I had to get to the bathroom. But before I got to the upper landing, I came swiftly, my body and organ convulsing in unison. I staggered on the landing as the orgasm overwhelmed me. Once in the bathroom I locked the door and massaged my dick further where it poked out of the jock pouch. Sticky creme coated my dick and my pubic hair was slick with it. I needed to take a shower. Then I noticed that one of Grandad’s jockstraps had been left in the well of the shower. I guess he’d forgotten to chuck it in the laundry. I think I did a bad thing then, but you can decide for yourself. I picked up the jock and attempted to wear it. It was wet from the shower, but I didn’t care. It was a kinky thing to do, right? But fuck it, this new life of mine was exceptional, and full of the unexpected. Of course, I was lost inside the jock. The pouch was huge; it had to be for Grandad. The straps at the back hung loosely below my arse, hardly touching it at all. The waistband was also loose around me. I had to hold the jock with one hand to keep it up. I finally gave up and let it fall to the floor. Then I picked it up and took a little sniff. It smelt of the extremes of bodybuilding. It reeked of manly musk. It cooked in the juices of sweat and precum coaxed into being by the heavy lifting of massive weights, over and over again. It sang of strength and power and ever-increasing mass. It shone with magnificent, masculine muscularity that showed no signs of ever stopping. It was the garment of a god. I wasn’t worthy to hold it, much less attempt to wear it. I stepped into the shower and turned on the warm spray. Then I wanked again… and again. How I came three times in just a few minutes was a mystery. But there was power in this place. And I think it was rubbing off on me. I wanted it to. I wanted to be just like Grandad. *** In less than half an hour my Grandad brought me on a tour of the farm. I hate to say this, but there really wasn’t much to see. The pigs were the only livestock he owned. I asked him about this as he led me from one utility shed to another. He showed me where the generator room was. It was hooked up to several solar panels, plus a single wind-powered turbine some ways off. I hadn’t noticed the tall propeller on a stick when I’d first arrived the day before. Together the devices gave the farm all the power it needed. Grandad was off the grid and didn’t owe shit to anyone. Another building housed nothing but composters, which Grandad said was great for the soil and helped him get rid of household waste with little pollutants. He went on to explain that his toilets drained into a tank that fed into the compost. Nothing was wasted. I guess a big man produced a lot of crap. “The pigs aren’t for eating, but they serve their purpose. Although… lately I haven’t needed to use them much.” He didn’t elaborate until he took me to the field farthest from the farm. It was populated primarily by oak trees. Each tree was a mighty old thing, with a presence that felt ancient. Grandad perhaps sensed my curiosity and explained. “Last year one of these old girls got struck by lightning. Only quick reflexes from your old gramps here stopped the entire plantation from burning down. Still, wasn’t much left of her when I pulled her remains right out of the ground and cut away a cross-section.” “Don’t tell me, you didn’t use any equipment to pull up the remains, right?” I think Grandad liked the fact that I was interested in how things operated here. “Well, I used a saw to cut through the stump, but I used my strength to rend the stump from the earth, yes.” He bounced his huge pectoral masses with lofty pride. Then he added: “I wasn’t as big then as I am now. It took me a good ten minutes to get the stump out of the ground. The roots went down a mighty ways. But I won through in the end.” “You’d probably do it in half that time now. You’re huge.” I didn’t need to remind him. “Halve that time again, then lop off another minute,” he said with a smirk. “So you examined the age of the tree from its rings, yes?” There was a keenness in my voice now. He heard it and it pleased him. “Indeed. The lifespan of oak trees can vary. The really old ones can live for over five hundred years. But these babies… they’re far older. I needed a really strong magnifying glass to count those rings from the cross-section. Each ring counts for one year of growth. I gave up at seven hundred and fifty.” “Wow… so they’re something special then.” I wondered where this was going. “Not just the trees themselves, Stephen.” He hunkered down to dig for something between the roots of the nearest oak. In less than a minute he produced something round and dirty, like a clump of soil matted with leaf clutter. He tossed it to me. “What do you make of that?” I don’t know why I did it, but I immediately brought the object close to my nose. It’s odour was familiar. It was the same ‘earthy’ smell I’d gotten from the milkshake he’d made for me earlier. “What is this?” “You’ve never seen a truffle before?” “Aren’t they fancy chocolates?” “No… real truffles are fungi. But unlike regular mushrooms, they don’t put up parasols to spread their spores. They reproduce underground, amidst the root structures of trees. Different trees can produce different types of truffle. There are white ones, black ones, red ones, and so on. And some of their names are associated with the trees under which they spawn. I’m not going to go all scientific on this. I’ll keep it simple.” The truffle I held felt like it weighed about a half pound. I cleaned off the soil and revealed its somewhat greenish-purple hue. It looked like it was faintly glowing, too. Grandad had more to say on the subject. “They spread their spores via animals that dig them up and eat them. Pigs are great at this, although dogs are better. I’m not overly fond of dogs, and I picked up those pigs for a pittance. I originally had twelve. But four died of either old age, or twisted guts. Don’t worry, I didn't waste the meat. A man’s got to grow, right?” A lat spread just for the fun of it reminded me that I was in the presence of a muscle giant. “So you just let the pigs wander amongst the oaks and they dig up the truffles for you?” Grandad nodded enthusiastically. “Well, I need to be present, else they’ll scoff them up real quick. I usually just clap my hands when they find one and they obediently drop the booty. That one you’re holding in your hand — even though it’s a small one — will fetch about two hundred quid. I once unearthed one that weighed over eight pounds, but it’s quality was way beyond what you’re holding. It bought me that jeep I flung into the air last night.” He paused to frown and lament his questionable actions of the night before, but he chirped up quickly enough. “I hope it didn’t kill anyone, although I think we’d have heard something by now. I no longer fit inside cars, so it’s not really a loss.” After a short pause: “Try some,” he insisted, indicating I should eat the smelly fruiting body. “Seriously? You want me to eat this?” “Yup, just rub off the excess soil and start chewing. It’ll do you good to try it. I want to test a theory.” So I was to be my Grandad’s guinea pig. Speaking of the pigs; he said some of them died from twisted guts. I hope that wasn’t from eating the truffles. “Well, you obviously know best,” I said, but I really wasn’t fond of the idea. “You had some in your shake this morning. It’s fine. Truffles are an expensive addition to cooking, highly prized in top restaurants the world over. These ones… well, they’re special.” I decided to trust my Grandad. I cleaned the tuber as best I could and then tentatively sliced some off with my teeth. It was like chewing a really dry potato, or what I imagined that would be like. There wasn’t really any flavour; more an aroma than anything else. So I chewed, and chewed, and finally forced the bolus down my throat. I coughed a few times and my eyes watered up. Grandad grinned broadly, then he slapped me on the back, hard enough to leave a red patch. I almost went flying; I guess he sometimes forgot how immensely strong he is. “Oh grow a set of balls, lad. Now tell me if you feel any different.” I didn’t feel anything. Not at first. But then… something happened. I felt a tightness all over. It started beneath my arms. I wasn’t sure I cared for the feeling at first, but then I realised I was growing. That feeling under my arms came from my expanding lat muscles. The tightness was followed quickly by a warm, tingling sensation. “Oh fuck… is this really happening?” “It sure is, Stephen. You think I got this way just by bodybuilding?” The feeling continued. My muscles were growing, expanding, gaining more dominance over the rest of me. My neck thickened, along with my traps and delts. My shoulder bones widened to better accommodate the new muscle mass. My — oh fuck — I was getting pecs… better than the modest ones I sported before. Slabs of manly chest muscles sprouted from my front and hung weightily; okay, nothing like Grandad’s, but hey, I shared much of his genetics, and now he’d revealed to me something about this place that turned men into gods. My abs and obliques tightened and toned up, sprouting bulges that made my midsection look beautiful. I looked down at myself and watched as six bellies popped out of my abdomen and became ripped and hard. My six-pack was better than it had ever been. I fanned out my arms to better accommodate my new lats. I couldn’t wait to see myself in the mirror. I felt tickled by the muscles that sprouted from my back, and I instantly shot up in the dick department. I didn’t care about having a boner. I didn’t want this feeling to end. My legs, too, gained size, with defined cords of muscle that stretched my skin tight. My calves grew big and hard and I marveled at the veins that effortlessly popped out of them. I brought my arms up to form a double biceps pose. I looked at each taut but prominent upward bulge, and my dick got harder and harder. “Fuck, Grandad. This is… it’s… it’s… incredible,” I exclaimed, completely in muscle-growth reverie. Was it okay to be this self-absorbed? I didn’t care. I never wanted this feeling to end. But it was over all too quickly. Maybe this was a dream. I pinched myself to see if I would wake up. The pinch itself was interesting. I could barely grab any skin. My body fat was far less than it had been. I’d gained quality muscle, nothing else. “Huh,that’s it?” “For now, lad. But you’ve proven something to me. The truffles work best at the beginning. The more we eat, however, the less effective they are. To get to my size you have to put in serious training. Lately I’ve been spending most of my waking hours just bodybuilding, and bodybuilding, and body-fucking-building. But it’s not enough. To achieve my ultimate goal, which is ultimately endless, I guess… I’ll need help to fully unlock the potential of these truffles.” I was now hooked on a feeling. That feeling was muscle-growth. “I want to be huge, Grandad. It’s got to happen,” I almost barked anxiously. I flexed my left bicep over and over, twisting my wrist and squeezing my fist so as to make my forearm pop like crazy. With my other hand I cranked one off, not even realising I was masturbating in front of my Grandad. He didn’t seem to mind. “You’ll get there. After all, you’ll have the best trainer. But it’s not going to be easy. When I first grew after tasting a truffle, I gained a little more than you did. I was already big from weightlifting. But I wasn’t a bodybuilder; I’d never had that kind of conditioning. But a few more truffles changed that.” To emphasise, he matched me pose for pose. We growled and goofed about for a bit, enjoying our muscles and our erections. Grandad really felt and behaved younger than his years. I wanted him to be a pal as well as a mentor. “Next time I found a better quality truffle. I ate it all, but gained a little less muscle than before. This has been going on for almost two years. Of course, I don’t always find good quality truffles. I tried experimenting with different varieties. I’d go out into the wilderness and uproot whole trees: poplar, spruce, ash etcetera. I replanted them here. I hoped, somehow that if their root structures produced truffles, that I could sort of mix the spores about, to create new strains. But the supplanted trees didn’t thrive. The oaks always overwhelmed them. So I’m basically left with one variety of truffle.” “But all we need is one variety, right? These things are magical,” I added. He nodded. “Well there is an exact science to it. I contacted a scientist colleague of mine from way back. I’ve been supplying him with truffles for over a year now. The results have been mixed, but he’s been working to isolate the muscle-growth properties of the truffles using radiation and various refining techniques. So far the results have been promising. I’m waiting for him to get back to me soon so I can get a concentrated dose. But he moves around a lot, due to the somewhat unethical nature of his experiments.” He paused to lose himself to his thoughts again. I could tell he was dreaming of getting absolutely HUGE! But if muscle-enhancing truffles weren’t enough, there was more to discover at Ridge Farm. He took me to one of three rectangular white outbuildings, the ‘sheds’ I’d seen upon my arrival the day before. Each one was devoid of windows, and the only way in was through a single, heavily padlocked door. There was also a thumb scanner (very fancy). He unlocked the padlocks and placed his thumb on the scanner. A red light on the panel turned green and there was a little ‘beep’ sound. He showed me in. There was nothing inside but a stairwell that led underground. Overhead a fluorescent light hummed more loudly than I cared for. He led me down a passageway that seemed to go on forever. His shoulders scraped the sides of the passage and he commented on this: “I’ll have to widen this passage. Getting too big for it. I like the feeling.” Eventually we stopped. There was nowhere else to go. The passageway ended, opening out into a roundish space, and dominated by what appeared to be a large, black metal wall. Track lighting along the ceiling of the shaft gave us plenty of illumination. “I found this quite by accident. I was clearing some trees to make land for ploughing, shortly after I bought the farm. I didn’t know at the time I would become a truffle farmer. I just wanted to get down and work the land and see what inspired me. It helped me with the grief process, I guess. “I wasn’t anywhere near the size I am now; I’d not yet discovered the truffles. But the building above is where a sinkhole once formed beneath my feet. I fell twenty feet into this shaft, although back then I had to crawl through it. I’ve widened it since then, and put in the lighting. I thought I was done for, but I could see where I was going, when really I should have been blind in the darkness. There was something down here emitting light.” He paused to allow me to take it all in. Suddenly he had me thinking of spacemen. “Feel the ground. It feels warm. And somewhat soft. At least when I fell I didn’t break anything, although I’d dislocated my shoulder. And it hurt like hell. But I was made of tough stuff, even back then. Here, feel the metal wall, too.” I did just that, and I could feel vibrations and a little heat emanating from the wall. “Where we are now is directly below the field of oak trees where the truffles grow. Something beyond that wall is providing them with the muscle-growth properties. Something I’m determined to discover. There’s only one problem.” I looked at him with all the incredulity I could muster. This was so much to take in; it bordered on surreal. “I can’t get through that wall. I’ve tried everything short of blowing the shit out of it and risking destroying the oaks above. No more oaks means no more truffles. There is only one way to get through that wall,” said Grandad somberly. I said nothing, but I already knew what his answer would be. “We’re going to bodybuild. We are going to build our fucking bodies to gigantic proportions. That’s the key to getting through this wall. Brute strength. Enough of it will reap the ultimate reward. Forget everything about yourself that came before this day, lad. From now on Stephen Ridge is a bodybuilder. And may we both be damned if you don’t become as big as me… or even bigger.” I was reeling from this. I actually felt light-headed as my cock got harder still. And it felt huge when I held it in my hand, rubbing it gently as I quietly got off to my Grandad’s plan. “Oh fuck… I’m gonna come. Grandad, I can’t fucking hold it in. Suh-sorry for… this… unnnnnghhhh!!!!” I just about managed to get my dick out of the jock pouch before shooting a big, salty load at the very wall we were now both determined to breach. Grandad didn’t mind. We were both men; NO! Not men. We were bodybuilders. Grandad soothed me with nothing but fondness and conviction. He believed in me. So much had happened in less than a day, but my path in life was now set out before me. I had to ask something: “What if we do get through that wall — when we’re both big enough and strong enough — what then? What if whatever’s behind that wall is locked in there for a reason?” “We’ll never know unless we try. It’s a mystery I need solved.” And as if to emphasise his point, Grandad pushed against the wall. He pressed with all of his strength, grunting noisily as he channeled every last ounce of his incredible might. His body exploded with size and power. His skin almost burst apart from the strain of new muscles bulging, getting impossibly bigger. Veins erupted all over him, carrying blood to every muscle fiber. “WHY WON’T IT FUCKING MOVE?????” For the first time since I’d been here, his exertions got the better of him. But his body looked beautiful beneath a patina of sweat that made his muscles glisten. “Hey… it’s okay, Grandad. Give it time. When I’m as big as you, we’ll both bring it down.” I placed a reassuring hand on his bicep. I felt its power and its hardness. It was mind-blowing. I had another question. “You said that each time you eat a truffle its effects are lessened. But if that’s so, how come you look like you’re growing right in front of my eyes?” A valid question, I thought. “Let me show you the next building to this one,” he said simply. At that we headed back to the surface, leaving the ancient mystery of the metal wall behind. The next building was locked the same way as the first. Grandad soon had us inside. My jaw dropped. The interior was about sixty feet by thirty. And it was crammed full of bushels of truffles, all of which had been cleaned thoroughly. They were bigger and smelt mustier than the one I’d eaten earlier. “They’re better quality truffles. I’ve been stockpiling them. They’re worth hundreds of millions of pounds. Occasionally — maybe one out of several thousand — I find an absolute pearl. A truffle of extremely high quality. I’ve found ten of them so far, each one weighing about six pounds. I sent two to my colleague for his research. The other six… well, this is why I’m the size I am today. And bodybuilding, of course. It’s how I continue to make massive gains. The better quality truffles reap the greatest rewards. Then I grow, so I can lift heavier weights and eat larger amounts. Rinse and repeat, lad.” I was held aghast by this revelation. “Please tell me you have more of them left. I want to grow huge so badly, Grandad.” My appeal didn’t fall on deaf ears. “I kept one for you, yes, lad. However, I’m a little reluctant for you to try it just yet.” Panic rose in me. I had been bitten by the muscle-growth bug, and now I was addicted. I wanted more, so much more. “But if I get huge now, we’ll be able to get through that wall sooner. What if there are even greater ways to grow our muscles beyond that wall? It could be a spaceship that crashed here thousands of years ago. Or… or… it could be the meaning of life or shit like that. Grandad, don’t hold back on me now. Not after showing me all this.” If I sounded frantic, I couldn’t help it. I was a kid denied sugar all of his life who’d suddenly discovered a lollipop. “It’s the best quality I’ve ever found. I could have easily used it on myself, to maybe pack on another five hundred pounds or more. But I’m sixty-four years old. You, however, are still going through puberty. That means you still have elevated levels of growth hormone in you. You’re not done growing yet. I’m a little scared to give you such a hefty dose so soon. You need to be introduced gradually to such potency. You could potentially grow to thousands of pounds. Your height would be incalculable. And if you consider my hulk-out rage from last night, and the damage it did, you could be out of control with testosterone- and truffle-fueled outbursts you may not be able to suppress.” He stopped talking, but rubbed my shoulder soothingly. “We need to do this right,” he said after a time. “You just need to trust your Grandad.” I calmed down and nodded my understanding. I then asked: “What’s in the third building?” “Something you need to see. I warn you… it’s not for the faint of heart,” my Grandad cautioned. “I need to see it. Please.” I had my cool head back. I was thinking clearly. Grandad nodded and so we went to the third building. It was just a big refrigerator. I felt instantly cold, but it didn’t seem to bother Grandad. It looked like a room where autopsies are carried out. And I wasn’t wrong. There was a large reinforced table in the centre of the room. A hulking mass lay on it, covered with a shiny, metallically-woven blanket. “One of the pigs was pregnant when I got them. She was the first to ingest what I believe might have been a high-quality truffle,” my Grandad said. He removed the blanket from the elephant-sized mass. The thing underneath was quite dead. It was the biggest pig I’d ever seen. It was also hugely muscled. “She died giving birth to it. She had three in all; two females. This was the male. I think the effects of the truffles only affect males. That’s why the mother and its siblings weren’t affected. It grew to this size in three days. But the critter was brain-damaged and couldn’t use its legs; a mercy, I guess. Had it gotten loose, there’s no telling what damage it could have caused. I euthanized it with poison to stop its heart. It took a lot to kill it, too.” “Why do you keep it here?” I was a little horrified. I suddenly wanted to take Grandad’s advice and be careful where the truffles were concerned. “I know… I should be rid of it. My colleague, Dr. Weiss, took plenty of tissue samples for his research. He was based here, for a while. But he likes to move around for reasons I won’t go into.” “We should burn this to the ground, and everything in it. It doesn’t feel right having this here, Grandad”. “I agree. We’ll do that after we fix the fence and then have lunch.” I was eager to get to work doing chores around the farm, so I could test out my new muscles. I weighed myself on the regular bathroom scale. The readout said “277”. I was amazed. I’d gained over fifty pounds, just from chewing on a low-quality truffle. I couldn’t wait to break that scale and have to use the big one in the barn. Then I thought about the dead monster pig. But I trusted my Grandad. He was experienced in the use of the truffles — and learning more about them all the time — so I knew I would be fine as long as I followed his advice and learned all I could from him. I knuckled down to work, eat, learn… and grow! ONE YEAR LATER Rod came in a massively long spurt as his dick responded to his third time eating a truffle, each one of better quality than the last. It never got stale to watch him engulfed in the throes of orgasmic muscle-growing bliss. His response to the truffles had been even better than mine. Okay, he didn’t share the exceptional Ridge genetics, but he’d already packed on more than one hundred pounds of muscle after just two truffles. We had to respect the potency of these miraculous, earthy fruits. Too much too soon could be catastrophic. I had my ‘little’ Mr Olympia in Rod, now. But he wouldn’t be little much longer. His growth was phenomenal so far, as was mine and Grandad’s on a daily basis. “Are you ever done jizzing?” I laughed when his body shuddered near the end of his climax. Even though I outmuscled him by nearly three thousand pounds, seeing him react to a growth spurt of his own, always made my dick super-hard. At thirty-six inches long, and twenty inches thick, my dick was beyond formidable. I couldn’t wait for Rod to get big enough so I could fuck him without ripping him a second arse hole. “I’m a major jizz machine, Ste,” said Rod, cupping as much spunk as he could so he could give it to me as a tasty treat. I loved to taste all that my boyfriend could provide. Today marked our sixth month as a couple, so it was an anniversary of sorts. A lot had happened in a year, but I’ll keep it brief. Grandad continued to bodybuild and grow bigger and bigger. I benefited from his mentoring so well, and also from controlled but consistent doses of high-grade truffle. It so happened that only the best quality truffles didn’t perish, so most of what Grandad had stockpiled in the second white building eventually turned to mush. But they made great compost, as Grandad hated to waste anything. When his height reached twelve feet and his weight close to eight thousand pounds, Grandad decided we needed to move. I was fast approaching eight feet in height and I weighed just over three thousand pounds. We needed a third body to help bring down the mysterious underground wall. So far Grandad and me could only dent it, but it proved that we were getting stronger and eventually, one day, we’d get beyond it and find out the secret to the truffles. But we were too big now to avoid eventually drawing unwanted attention. Okay, living pretty much in isolation helped, and the good folk from the village nearby were okay living near two amazing giant muscle men (with a third well on the way to massive ‘muscledom’). They would keep our secret. Still, though, Grandad felt somewhat exposed. With help from Doctor Weiss, we moved in secret to an isolated island off the west coast (airlifted by helicopter inside a metal cargo container under cover of darkness is no way to travel, believe you me). There we could live a happy life, build another farm and continue to bodybuild our incredible physiques. I went back to see Rod three months after moving to Ridge Farm. By then I looked bigger and better than any Mr Olympia winner. Rod couldn’t believe it was me, and when he popped an instant boner at first sight of me, I knew then what I’d secretly suspected all along. He was as gay as I am. Okay, he’d accidentally got Cindy Fleming pregnant, but they split up when he admitted this to her, and she didn’t want the baby anyway on the grounds she was too young to be a mother. So she put the tyke up for adoption. This left Rod a free agent. When he saw the bodybuilder I’d become after just three months, he had plenty of questions. So he listened when I told him my amazing secret. He wanted in, although he was cautious. I talked it over with Grandad, and he agreed that Rod should come live with us. I craved a boyfriend, and we needed a third huge bodybuilder to help bring down that wall. Grandad was now very rich after investing some of his monies earned from regular truffle farming in the stock market. He could afford to employ a permanent security team to guard Ridge Farm on the mainland. As soon as we were big enough — and we needed to get Rod up to a massive size, too — we’d return secretly to the underground shaft to work on the wall. Grandad wanted Rod and me to have a special day, just to ourselves. So he packed us a hefty lunch of about a million calories to get us through the day. We were down on the beach on the south side of the island. The spray from the ocean felt delicious on our naked muscle-bods. It was a strikingly beautiful summer afternoon. This place really was a paradise. It was the ideal habitat where muscle-gods could grow in private and not give a shit that we’d outgrown the regular world in favour of our own veritable Olympus. “We should have asked Gordon to join us, you big bodybuilding bulge-monster,” said Rod, and I loved it when he called me playful names like that. Then the truffle kicked in, and he began to grow. It wouldn’t be as much as the last time, as the effects of the truffles diminished with each use, so he’d have to hit the weights big time if he was ever to catch up with me. But he got more and more beautiful with every pound of muscle gained. I, too, had a lot of catching up to do with Grandad. He really was something to behold. Today he was tending to the oak saplings and truffles he’d salvaged from the mainland plantation. He’d decided to raze the original oaks to the ground and destroy any chances of truffles falling into the wrong hands. A muscle-growth epidemic would prove disastrous. Now that the oaks were no more, he decided he’d nothing to lose trying out explosives on the wall. As he’d suspected, the C4 did nothing. But the new oak plantation on the island was doing well, so far. Thanks to the compost formed of the spoiled batches of stockpiled truffles, the new oaks grew at an extremely accelerated rate. Within a year they were already nurturing new truffles in their root structures. Now and again Grandad would find a high-quality one, and he was only too happy to share it with me and Rod. His desire to grow bigger and stronger would always be with him, and we had the power to grow forever, if we so desired. But he usually took a slightly smaller dose of truffle than he provided to me and Rod. We needed to grow, and get bigger and stronger. So much bigger. We never wanted this feeling to end. Rod packed on even more muscle as we rolled around on the beach making love. I let him enter me often, and soon he’d be big enough for me to fuck him. I really couldn’t wait for that day. Later we ate a lot of food, then made love again. We went for dips in the ocean and tested our strength by hurling boulders around. Rod got a great pump out of lifting weights he couldn’t even attempt prior to his latest growth spurt. “One day we’ll get through the wall, all three of us,” I said to him as we lay on the beach, tired from our exertions. He was small compared to me, but I loved to engulf him in my massive musculature whilst cooing softly to him in his ear. “I hope the power to grow even huger is in there. It has to be if it’s been feeding the roots supporting the truffles all this time,” said Rod. “Yeah we need to get huge. I’d love to one day make Grandad look like a baby standing next to me,” I quipped. “He won’t like that,” came back Rod’s jovial remark. I loved him so much. I kissed him over and over. “But what’ll he be able to do to me? I’ll be the biggest bodybuilder ever. He’ll have to step aside and let a real man take charge. GRRRRR!!!!” I made a huge single biceps pose. At my command sixty-six inches of rock hard, steel muscle flexed and bulged, big enough to almost blot out the sun. Rod grew instantly hard again. Then we fell asleep in each other’s arms and only when the rising tide lapped at our exceptional muscle-bods, did we rouse ourselves awake and head back to New Ridge Farm. It had been a good day. But it could only get better. Grandad was making beef stew. Even MORE amazing muscle growth to come, and will the secret of what's behind the wall eventually be revealed?
I run back to the captains office. "Capt Aqua" why couldn't she pick a cooler name? i open the door to her flowing water streams all over the place in the room. The streams are so elegant and beautiful. in short shes a water bender. "Congratulations on your last mission, Christine" she says so calmly but sternly. She always intended to bolster us but her tone said otherwise. "Thanks captain. Taking down the criminals wasnt easy" i say back politely as i could. though she says a lot of things with authority, her looks says otherwise. Imagine is Cetrion was human and had light brown skin and long black hair. "I could tell, but because of your recent achievement, you finally get yourself some partners to work with." "i- whaaaaa.....?" now that usually would be a good thing but I'm a lone wolf. I prefer to work alone "You got yourself partners to take people down now. C'mon out yall" i look to my right to see 2 young men both look like they just turned 19 come out. WTF did i just get myself into?
Guest posted a topic in StoriesHere we go. It's been a while since I've written anything. Ive been so busy in the world of finance as well as trying to enlarge and perfect my own body. Now, for two weeks I'm on vacation in Florance, Italy staying in an incredible villa that has a pool, a vineyard right next door, an amazing view... and several hot guys!!! Lying here, I've let my mind start to wander, and came up with this story. Hope you all like it. I've really missed you all!! Comments are always welcome. The Vessel Chapter One: The Water Christophe looked into the pool with wild eyes taking in its sheer size and beauty. How could no one have discovered this before, he thought. It’s huge!! It’s more of a lake then a pool…. The closer he got to the water, the clearer he could hear it calling to him. Was he ready? Was he truly going to take the plunge not at all sure what the results would be? This journey of body and souls had begun 15 years prior. Christophe had always been an attractive man… a confident man… a man who always got who he wanted and what he wanted… a man who took care of his body, his wardrobe, and his mind. In a move of sheer genius, he decided to leave his banking job behind and focus on teaching others to be more like him… the man at the top of the food chain… The Alpha. It started out as some badly edited YouTube videos that only a few people watched, but Christophe persevered, knowing that men needed what he had to offer. After about a year, his videos began getting more and more hits, and as he continued making these, he began offering personal one-on-one consultations and classes. This was where the business took off. By the third year, Christophe was bringing in 2 million a year and knew that if he wanted to grow his empire, he would need to bring on a business partner. A surprise encounter at the mall brought him face to face with Neil Hamilton, a friend and frat brother from University. Neil was everything Christophe was not: he was quite, book smart, overweight, balding, and not at all physically active. What he did have going for him was an amazing sense of humor, a keen business sense, and an amazing imagination. Together they brought Christophe’s business to the next level, and then higher. Soon there were books, speaking tours, TED Talks, clothing lines, magazines. If you could imagine it… Neil would make it come true. By no means an Alpha in the physical sense, he was definitely one in the mental capacity. Now they were both forty-five and living the dream of mansions, yachts, sports cars, and vacations anywhere in the world. Everything was within their grasps that money could buy… almost. As he had grown older, Neil’s had become obsessed with the ‘Fountain of Youth.’ What had once been simply a laughable hobby, over the years became a worrying obsession. When not working on a deal or promotion for Christophe,, Neil had been conducting research in ancient texts, consulting brown and crumbling maps, and flying to distant lands to follow leads. Two weeks prior, Christophe was far from amused when Neil burst into his personal gym with a small package. ⁃ This just arrived!! I Wanted to share it with you. The older man was winded by his race through Christophe’s house, and beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead and onto his face. Although Christophe might not have been in the incredible shape he had once been in, he was far healthier than his overweight friend. Neil stood in front of Christophe who was sitting on a bench,, smiled, and carefully shook the box at him. ⁃ I can’t believe it!! I honestly can’t believe it!! Neil began to tear into the box. ⁃ What is it? ⁃ Exactly what I’ve been searching for!! The box revealed a wooden exterior. With careful hands, Neil slid the lid off and removed the contents: a vial of clear liquid no bigger than a test tube. Neil held it up to the light and looked at it. ⁃ After all this time... ⁃ That isn’t... ⁃ It is! Water from THE fountain of youth!! ⁃ How much did this cost you? 500,000. ⁃ You’re insane. ⁃ I thought so too... but I’ve seen the proof... recordings, etc. ⁃ Fakes! ⁃ No! I watched a man de-age right in front of me on Skype. He lost nearly 30 years in ten minutes. ⁃ Where did it come from? ⁃ The secret has been in this South American mans family forever. You should see him... so fucking hot, and he’s nearly 170!! He looks 30! He’s never allowed it out of his family until now. He’s the last survivor and eventually wants to cover the pool up and retire wealthy. ⁃ What happened to the rest of the family? Why aren’t they living forever? ⁃ I asked that very question... and he tried to explain how after living for hundreds of years... everyone eventually wants a rest. ⁃ So he’s selling this at 500,000 a pop? How much has he sold? ⁃ Only to seven people so far. ⁃ Have you talked with them? ⁃ All purchases are anonymous. ⁃ Of course. ⁃ Come on, Chris!! I brought this from home to share this moment with you. I want you to witness it. Neil took out two latex gloves and slipped them on his hands. ⁃ You can never let the water touch your skin. ⁃ But it’s okay for your insides With a smile Neil unscrewed the cap of the test tube and smelt it. ⁃ I’m hard just thinking about this!! ⁃ If this does work... and that’s a big if... how are you going to explain to the world how you suddenly got younger? ⁃ I’m not. If this works... I’m gone. I have to disappear... just like everyone else. ⁃ What? ⁃ We’ve made enough money to last us four lifetimes. It’s time for me to enjoy it... and I know the business is in capable hands. Neil took a breath and then smiled. ⁃ Wish me luck. ⁃ Wait!! How much do you drink? ⁃ It’s been measured to take twenty years off of me. I’m going to be 25 again. ⁃ And if it doesn’t work? ⁃ A foolish dream of an old man. Before Christophe could stop him, and without thinking twice, Neil downed the entire contents of the test tube. Gently he placed it on the desk, never losing eye contact with Christophe. ⁃ Well? ⁃ Tasted like water... very expensive water. Both men began to laugh, when a sudden look of shock covered Neil’s face. Reaching both hands up to his neck, he proceeded to sputter and cough and fall to the floor. Christophe jumped up from the bench and ran to Nei who wasl lying on the floor and smiling. ⁃ You do care! ⁃ You’re a fucking asshole! ⁃ You should have seen your face! ⁃ I was only concerned with what to do with your body! ⁃ Wouldn’t want anyone to think you mmm... murr... you... something’s... happening... ⁃ What? ⁃ It feels... so good... an orgasm... that keeps... building... and building...FUCK!!!! Christophe watched his friend writhe on the floor in ecstasy. In awe he could see Neil’s bald pate suddenly begin to blossom with dark stubble. Within seconds his hair was gaining length, beautifully covering the top of Neil’s head. Christophe found himself getting aroused watching and listening to his friend in absolute ecstasy, and at the same time seeing the hands of time being reversed. Everywhere on his body his skin was becoming taught and youthful. Even the fat all over Neil’s body was being burned away leaving a skinnier and healthier version of its predecessor in its wake. The hair on top of his head had continued to grow, and was soon joined by the hair on his face. Absolutely swimming in the clothes he was wearing, Christophe couldn’t believe the sight of the thirty... and then twenty-five year old form of his friend. Still he continued to get younger, until suddenly Neil’s entire body went stiff... a load moan escaped from his body... and he collapsed entirely onto the floor, breathing quickly but with a smile on his face. A few moments later the twenty year old version of Neil opened his eyes. ⁃ Fuck!!!!! That was the most intense.... Fuck!!!!! Neil laughed heartily on the floor. With a sudden leap, he was on his feet, his clothes pooling around him. ⁃ Mirror. I need a mirror. Quickly Neil moved to the side of the room that held a full-length mirror, and came face to face with himself. ⁃ It really worked!!! I can’t believe it!! Look at me!! Using hands that felt new and alien to him, Neil tore his clothes from his body until he stood naked before the mirror and before Christophe. Where once a severely overweight man had stood, a swimsuit model had taken his place. With just a dusting of dark hair trailing over his abs and down to his cock, the rest of his chest was smooth and tight. Trying to take it all in, Neil ran his hand over the new mound of his pecs and massaging his nipples. With the other arm he flexed, and watched his bicep and tricep swell. ⁃ I feel so strong!! I’ve never felt like this in my lifel! Raising is other arm to a 90 degree angle, he proceeded to flex this one as well, both arms swelling with power. ⁃ I look a thousand times better now than I ever did in my twenties! It’s like it perfected me! Neil simply couldn’t get enough of his new body. Exploring it from every angle, Christophe had to agree that he was indeed an ideal specimen. ⁃ Look at my cock!! So much longer and thicker than before... and foreskin!! I never had foreskin!!! Neil’s hand grasped onto his soft cock and began to massage it. As if on command, the organ began to lengthen and thicken. Christophe looked on in awe as it grew to an impressive 9” with a fat head even thicker than the mighty shaft it sat upon. He had only been hard for a few seconds when a river of pre began to flow, dripping onto the floor. ⁃ So fucking horny!! Haven’t been this horny since I was a teenager... even then... I was never this horny!! As he continued to stroke himself, Neil looked over at Christophe with a huge grin. ⁃ Suck it. You know you want to. In their business relationship, Christophe has always been the alpha, but now with this youthful stud standing before him, he couldn’t help falling to his knees, and proceeded to lick the sweet lubricant leaking from the swollen head. Shocked, Christophe felt Neil’s hand pushing his head from behind. No sooner had he brought Neil’s cock into his mouth, the new-born man began to face fuck him. Christophe stares intently at the pool remembering the rest of that night. Neil had proceeded to cum a massive load into Christophe’s waiting mouth. No sooner had Neil ejaculated, he was hard again. In a frenzy, he tore the clothes from Christophe’s body and proceeded to plunge his huge cock into Christophe’s ass. When it came to fucking men, Christophe had always been the dominant one. Now he couldn’t help but let Neil take complete control. That night, Neil fucked him over and over again until the older man begged him to stop. Unsatisfied, but yielding to his friend, Neil jerked himself off, another massive load splashing onto his pecs, face, and even above his head. The two lay in silence until finally Neil spoke. ⁃ I need to leave soon. No one can see me. ⁃ Where will you go? ⁃ Who knows! I’ll have to get a new passport... a new identity... but I have plenty of money to buy what I’ll need. Neil sat up and looked at his best friend. ⁃ Join me. Email The Keeper and get your own vial. Let’s live the life we always should have. That night, wearing clothes still to baggy on him, Neil disappeared into the night. He had made several phone calls, set up several meetings to get new paperwork, and had moved nearly all of his money into a new account he had opened a week prior under a new name: Gerald Grey... a distant relative that in a surprise change of his will... everything was left to. Kissing Christophe goodbye, Neil... now Gerald... handed over all he would need, which included signed documents handing over 95% of their holdings to him as well as the contact information for The Keeper of the water. ⁃ Don’t waste time. Join me. Still in awe of what had occurred that night, Christophe walked around his house trying to take it all in. If this could be bottled… if this could be created in mass… he would be even richer than he was now! He could make billions!!!! Arriving in the gym, Christophe saw the vial lying on the floor. Picking it up, Christophe saw one small drop at the bottom. He tipped it slowly over so the water flowed to his waiting palm. As soon as it hit him, colours flashed before his eyes, his cock went hard, and he was ejaculating all over the floor. Falling to his knees, Christophe cried out as more and more cum flowed from his penis. In minutes, it was over. That night he slept fitfully, dreams of the water… him… muscle… youth… power… He awoke with a voice in his head calling to him. He had wasted no time contacting The Keeper, and after three weeks of waiting, had finally received a response. The Keeper wanted the same 500,000 in exchange for a vial of the water that would give Christophe his youth back. In his reply, Christophe had a counter offer: £5 million, but he gets the vial as well as seeing the pool for himself. A strict refusal came minutes later, but a second counter offer was made... then a third... and finally a fourth that was accepted: 12 million in exchange for a vial and a glance at the pool. Met in Montevideo by a pilot working for The Keeper, Christophe was blindfolded and quickly brought onto a small plane. Once settled, the pilot quickly injected him with a sedative that had Christophe asleep before he could even protest. Unbeknownst to the pilot or The Keeper, Christophe had expected such measures, and had a small GPS implanted in an area right under his armpit. This GPS was constantly monitoring both his location as well as his heart rate. If his heart was ever to stop, all the information on where he was and what he had been doing would instantly be released. Also hidden away, sewn discreetly into the lining of his jacket was a small and lightweight pistol, undetectable by any sensor, and even if frisked, it would be confused for a piece of his clothing. Christophe refused to let anything fall to chance. If The Keeper didn’t want to do business with him and share in profits from the pool... he would just have to take it. While he slept, the dreams returned even stronger than before. Muscle… mountains of muscle… power unimaginable… it all could be his... From the darkness Christophe heard what could only be a deafening rumble of thunder. ⁃ Wake up!!! Christophe tried with all his might to pull himself out of the dark waters of sleep that held him in their embrace. ⁃ I said wake up!!! A hard kick in his side which felt like it propelled him several feet assisted in Christophe finally opening his eyes. Trying to focus, Christophe found himself face to face with The Keeper. The man... could this actually be a man... was naked because obviously no clothes could ever cover him. Standing nearly 8’ tall and weighing what Christophe could only gather was 1,000 pounds of pure muscle, The Keeper was a sight to behold. Tanned to a dark brown, jet black hair fell to the middle of his back and covering half of his face was a thick black beard that ended right before the massive plates of his pecs began. Staring deep into The Keepers piercing blue eyes, Christophe’s cock became erect, and he found himself convulsing in a fit of pure ecstasy as he orgasmed over and over. This man... this beast... this god was the epitome of virility... of masculinity. His body... forged in an artist's wet dream, put every bodybuilder to shame. His hairy legs were larger the tree trunks, his chest wider then several men, and his immense soft cock fell down to his knees. The only piece of clothing The Keeper carried was a belt that held a large canteen. The strangest thing of all... if any of this could get stranger... was that The Keepers wide and thick dark nipples leaked a drop of liquid every minute or so that fell and got lost in his chest hair. With one large paw, practically the size of Christophe’s own chest, The Keeper grabbed him by the head and twisted it fiercely to the left. ⁃ Is this what you wanted to see?! His voice, heavy with a Spanish accent, was a rumble that Christophe could feel deep within his own chest. Like a rag doll in the massive mans control, Christophe took his first glimpse of the pool. The pool was actually much wider than he had imagined. Though possible to swim from one bank of the deep blue water to the other, it would take some time and great strength. There was a breeze on the air, yet every inch of the water was still. Strangest of all, unlike most bodies of water, not one bird or animal graced its shores. At first glance it looked like a picture postcard... completely undisturbed.. yet there was something definitely supernatural... otherworldly even. In deep awe and reverence to the waters, Christophe was shaken once again by the massive man and lifted off of the ground. ⁃ Why does the pool want you here??? What does it want of you???? The Keeper gave Christophe a second to answer before shaking him again... his own body feeling as if it could be torn apart at any moment. ⁃ In my dreams I’ve seen you!!! Why??? What does the pool want??? ⁃ I... I... I don’t know... what you’re talking about... ⁃ How did you find me? ⁃ A friend. You sent the water to a friend!! ⁃ Who??? The beast began to shake him roughly again. ⁃ Neil Hamilton! His name is Neil Hamilton!! When The Keeper heard the name he stopped shaking Christophe, lifted him over his head, and hurled him to the ground. The mountain of a man took four mighty steps and was standing once again over Christophe. How small he must appear to this giant... how insignificant. Christophe hated feeling that way, and was quickly trying to figure out how to handle this beast before he was killed. Lifting Christophe with only his left hand, The Keeper brought them face to face. ⁃ When you found me... when you sent your message... I did as always and came to the bank of the pool to ask if it accepted you. Barely had I spoken your name when it screamed out for you... over and over and over!! Never had I seen the waters so agitated. I ran from the bank... hearing your name screamed from behind me. For weeks I stayed away from the water... wanting to refuse you... but screams only got louder!!! Louder and louder. Christophe attempted to grasp the gun that was attached to his coat, but The Keepers agitation grew to such a frenzy that he threw him once again to the ground. ⁃ To stop the screams, I accepted you... but then you requested to come here!! Here!!!!! Why did you want to come here!!!! I refused... but then the dreams came. Your face! I saw your face!!! The longer I refused you, the worst it became until I finally had to allow you to come... but on my terms!!!! My terms!!! Moving toward him again with steps that shook the earth Christophe lay upon, he tried to back away, but a foot as large as most of his torso pinned him to the ground. ⁃ Now for once the pool is silent... and now you have to die. Removing the canteen from his waste, the man proceeded to unscrew the cap that held the contents within. ⁃ It will all be over so quickly. You’ll drink and grow younger and younger until you cease to be. Don’t worry... it’s painless... my family never knew what happened to them... The Keeper moved his foot higher till he was standing on Christophe’s neck causing him to open his mouth, gasping for air. Lifting the canteen, he began to pour the liquid in the area of Christophe’s lips and nose.. Unable to breathe, Christophe was still able to move his head from side to side, not allowing the water to enter his mouth, but to fall on his face. As each drop hit his skin, Christophe felt a new strength invigorate his body giving him more will to survive. ⁃ No!!! You must never touch the water!!! Only I could touch the water!!! The man took his foot off of Christophe’s neck and leaned down to lift him up by his shirt. ⁃ The pool called me to be it’s Keeper... so I walked in to my waist, and this is what I became. The pool now wants you... but it never will!!! It’s mine!!! The Keeper lifted the water close to Christophe’s mouth, but stopped suddenly when the gun went off, and the bullet entered his chest. Dropped to the ground... Christophe watched The Keeper stagger backwards and try and look down at what had happened... but his immense pecs didn’t allow him to see below. Using his hand, he lifted some of the flowing blood to his face... and began to laugh. ⁃ You think a bullet can harm me?! I’m immortal!!! I’ve lived for over 500 years!!! In awe, Christophe watched the bullet be pushed from the open wound and then quickly close and heal. Christophe fired again... this time hitting The Keeper’s stomach... and the same thing occurred... the creature laughing even harder! ⁃ More!! I can do this all day!! Knowing there were only three bullets left, Christophe lifted the gun once again, and like David with Goliath, hit The Keeper directly in the eye. Startled, the man fell onto his ass with a thud. Watching the Keeper maniacally claw at his eye to remove the bullet, Christophe could see that it was already beginning to heal. Wasting no time, he approached The Keeper with speed given to him by his brief contact with the water, and shot him in the other eye. A scream that shook the trees erupted from The Keepers mouth. With one bullet left, he directed the gun right to the top of the massive cranium and fired, blowing off a small portion of his head and skull. In shock the mountain of a man fell backward onto the ground with a thud. Seeing that his wound was already beginning to heal, Christophe reached into the hole and began to frantically rip at The Keeper’s brain... pulling pieces of it out. Seeing that this was futile since it would only begin to grow back, Christophe did the next best thing. Taking the canteen, he brought it to The Keepers mouth and emptied the contents, forcing him to swallow. Within minutes, just as all of the wounds were nearly healed, The Keeper began to moan... and then quickly de-age. Quickly the beast shrunk down to the size he had once been before he stepped in the water... a skinny teenager... then a boy of ten... then five... four... three... two... a baby... then a fetus... then nothing. Falling to the ground in exhaustion, Christophe came to terms with what he had done... and a smile crept onto his face as he realised the pool was his. Only he knew where it was... what it did... and he would make trillions from it. Every rich person would pay greatly for a chance to live longer... and they would keep returning to him for more and more!! The business was endless... and he controlled it all!!! Standing, Christophe walked on shaking legs to the pool and looked at its wondrous depths. It looked so cool in the heat of the sun... so welcoming... On the wind he heard it again… calling to him… It wants me, he thought. It has always wanted me. Christophe took a step closer but stopped himself. Was this what he wanted? Was he to be the new Keeper? Would he allow the waters to alter him so that he became a mountain of power? He had always been an Alpha of a man… and now the pool wanted to give it all to him… to live beyond the life of an Alpha. In his mind… images of strength and power unimaginable were projected. His fingers moved quickly over his shirt as he began to unbutton it, swiftly removing it and his jacket. Is this what I want? Is this what I’m to be? Removing his trousers and underwear, he stood before the water naked, his 5” cock harder then it had ever been. If I am to be the next Keeper… I want so much more than you gave to him!!! I want you to propel me even further!!! I have never accepted half-measures. I want it all. A warm wind blew onto him and caressed him. Yes, he thought… but what is everything? Is it what I truly want?? As the new Keeper… what will I be? Refusing to turn back, with one step, his feet entered the pool, and he let out a loud moan. Even slightly covered... less than an inch... he could feel a source of power entering his skin and propelling itself through his body. Wanting more... craving more.. he continued to walk... trying to stay conscious as wave after wave of power coursed through his body. Within moments, as the water covered his chest his body began to spasm continuously from the onslaught of power that was swiftly flowing into him. This feeling is intoxicating... I can’t get enough. This was never what I had intended to happen... yet I was called to be the new Keeper and must take on my new mantle! Moving out still further from the shore, Christophe submerged his entire body into the waters... something even the original Keeper has never done. Screaming beneath the water, electric currents began to enter every pore causing the water to bubble around him. No longer in control of his own body, his mouth opened up, and Christophe drank deeply. The same current that was invading the exterior of his body found another passage as he continued to feed on more and more water. As he ingested more than any had ever drunk before... Christophe felt his entire body filling with new life. Not only was his body getting younger... but his skin, bones, and muscles had begun to throb... Still drinking more and more, and still fully submerged in the pool... Christophe feared he was overdosing on the power that was ravaging him. He felt sick to his stomach as his abdomen expanded and tightened... but still he took on more. Just when he thought his body couldn’t take any more power, he found that the onslaught was getting more and more powerful. Fearing yet welcoming the unknown of what he soon would become... Christophe’s 5” Cock went rigid, and he felt that at any moment his entire body was going to cum. As the power continued to gain strength, Christophe had a sudden realisation... he was never meant to be the new Keeper. The pool had no need for a Keeper… No!! It wanted more! It wanted him to become The Pool itself! With this realisation, Christophe’s body began to tense up and become rigid as his back muscles began to swell and grow. Larger and more defined they became... and showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. Beneath the water Christophe screamed as his scapula and collarbone began to expand and fracture, making horrid cracking noises as they grew wider. Watching in shock as his arms proceeded to move further and further away from his body as his back continued to grow wider, he realised that he could now breathe safely under the water as the two were merging together. The pain was agonising but Christophe desired this as he knew his body was being made mighty to hold all of the power the pool had to offer... more then anyone had ever understood or had been a part of. Christophe moaned in ecstasy as his shoulders proceeded to expand wider than any entranceway, and the growth showed no sign of stoping. The bones in his shoulders proceeded tobecome thicker and longer as his trap muscles became further developed. Already much wider than the original Keeper, Christophe knew he would never be able to hold himself upright unless held by the mighty hands of the pool. His delts were becoming thickened and rounder...his upper back packed fully with bulging muscle... his traps mountainous and permeating with strength. ⁃ What am I becoming??? Already My back has surpassed that of The Keeper... Never again will I be able to walk down a hallway built for human’s as I’ll be way to wide!! I can barely turn my head now my traps are so high... my back more muscular than that of a bull’s! With an eruption that rocked the whole pool, Christophe’s lats began to swell, pushing his arms even further from from his side ⁃ It is like 8 bodybuilders were used to form my back... and still I’m growing!! My back is now beyond any human comprehension… and I love it!!!! I can’t believe how quickly my upper back, shoulders and traps had become so monumental!! The pool is propelling me far from the realm of human possibility. Taking more of the water within himself, Christophe screamed for the entire power offered to him by the pool. He was willing to lose his humanity... willing to rise above all other human and be used as the pools tool. With the intake of more of the pool, Christophe’s neck began to bloom into a Roman column of muscle. Each moment he felt it grow larger... it became more difficult to move his head from side to side. Soon his neck was two columns shoved together... then three... As his neck grew further, his traps rose up higher until they fused with his neck right behind his ears. As his lats proceeded to swell even greater, Christophe knew his back must resemble that of an enormous cobra!! If watching from above, one would noticed that the water in the pool was slowly going down as if by evaporation. The bank began to grow larger as more and more of the pool’s essence was fused with Christophe. Soon, the calm lake began to slowly begin to rotate to the left, creating the beginnings of a whirlpool. The sound of cracking that resembled trees being split in two could be heard in the Amazonian rainforest. Far from the destruction of trees... this was the creation and growth of Christophe’s hands and arms as they began to lengthen. Within minutes his arms had surpassed his legs and continued to grow. ⁃ How massive... am I... to become?! The pool no longer needed to be ingested through Christophe’s mouth as his body had begun to mutate to enable the water to flow directly through every pore and orifice. Not to be outdone by his own arms, Christophe’s legs and feet began to elongate as well. To his surprise, it was his hands and arms that hit the bottom of the pool first, and then his legs, enabling him to stand for the first time. Attempting to look up and down, Christophe concluded that the entire pool was nearly 60 feet deep, and he was floating perhaps fifteen feet from the bottom. If he had been on land, he would have been towering above the ground... nearing the height of trees. With his feet planted firmly on the floor of the pool, Christophe proceeded to get taller and wider, his back so filled with peaks and valleys that it resembled a mountain range. The thickness of his neck and traps made it virtually impossible to turn his head anymore, and the human part of Christophe began to be inundated with thoughts of how impractical his size was becoming, yet he was calmed by the pool and began to comprehend his future life as a creature of power and muscle... of instinct... of brute strength. He was becoming new for the world to worship. Lifting his own hands in the water, Christophe marvelled at the sheer size. His palm... fuck... it was becoming wider then his own chest, and each finger... they were quickly surpassing the thickness of his legs!! Above Christophe, the whirlpool was beginning to gain speed and strength... it’s core the man named Christophe the pool was evolving. From above, a muffled scream could be heard as his torso began to snap, pull, and lengthen. As his body became taller and longer, Christophe could see that he was slowly being propelled to the surface. How tall am I now, he thought. Have I reached twenty feet yet? Will my head ever hit the surface, or will I need to crawl out of this pool? Christophe did his best to raise his arm over his head and found that if he were ten feet higher, his fingers would have been breaking the surface... and still he grew. As his back proceeded to grow even wider and more packed with muscle, Christophe began to feel the start of swelling in both of his pecs, and soon after, they were joining the rest of his body exploding with size. Like two king size mattresses growing from his body, Christophe’s pectorals grew firmer, larger, and rounder. The sensation of blood being pumped through his body, feeding his growing muscles made him feel light headed yet free. Stretching his neck forward as much as he could, Christophe smiled as his pecs gained complete control and mastery over the top part of his chest. Moving his immense right hand over his pec, Christophe let out a lewd and guttural moan as his fingers brushed over his nipple. Having never felt such a sensation in his life... Christophe began exploring his nipples more, grabbing onto both and squeezing them first tentatively... then tighter. His cock... so tiny and so far away from his pecs, got harder still and shot a massive wad of precum into the pool. Just as his pecs and chest grew bigger still, so did his nipples; larger, thicker and with wide brown areolas. Fuelled on by his intense nipple play, Christophe’s pecs continued to expand, growing feet after feet from his chest. The chasm between his pecs was now so deep, and as his pecs competed for more and more space, it grew tighter and tighter. Taking his hand, Christophe tried to force his way into the deep canyon, but found it was impossible as his own body fought him. These are the pecs that will soon topple mountains just by my flexing, he thought. Never had the world seen a man so massive... a man so mighty... a man with so much power!! Out of all of the world, I was chosen! Me!!! Since his traps, back, and lats were still getting larger, this new growth brought him more ecstasy and fantasies of his future. The pool was creating a vessel far larger more immense then even Christophe had ever thought. If he knew the plans the pool had for him… how gargantuan…. how colossal he was to be… would he have stopped? The pool promised strength and power… and now it was giving it to Christophe a million fold. As Christophe became lost in thoughts of the creature he was to become, his lower torso and abs began to inflate with muscle. One by one his abs exploded with size, but The Pool had no need for The Vessel to have have a simple six-pack. As his body grew and mutated, it would need more muscle mass to control it, to hold it up, so now he possessed an astronomical sixteen pac, each flexing and fighting for rooms. As the whirlpool grew stronger, and more and more water was sucked into Christophe, he continued to grow. As his head inching up toward the surface, his pecs began fighting each other to find more room in which to grow, both so weighty with mass that his nipples had begun to point down. While his chest expanded, his internal organs and ribs began to swell as well. Since Christophe’s head had only grown a small bit compared to the mountain his body was becoming, it began to become bound between his traps, which now grew mightily past his ears. Barely visible since both his pecs and his deltoids were eclipsing it, his neck had grown thicker than his own waist. Christophe’s top half was now so immense with lats wider than he could imagine. How wide am I now, Christophe wondered as there was no way he could comprehend his size in mere inches or meters. My chest has to be larger than a car... and getting bigger every second!! His abs and waist had proceeded to grow in leaps and bounds. Compared to his chest, no matter how wide and thick his waste became, it would always be the ultimate wasp waist. Each continued to grow wider and thicker forcing Christophe’s Adonis belt to sink in deeper and deeper. When his head was only five feet from the surface, Christophe’s legs started to quake as his feet began to thicken with muscle. Taking on mammoth proportions, both of his calf muscles stretched up and out, swelling so much that the diamond shape of the two heads began to expand outward on all sides and take up more room over his ankle until it appeared that his foot formed right from my calf. Christophe cried out in rapture as each muscle group erupted in size, and a titanic rumbling sound announced the birth of his new elephantine quads. Finding it impossible to hold onto his tiny cock with fingers so massive, he moved again to his other source of pleasure, his nipples. As Christophe pinched, squeezed, and stroked his nipples, he found that he quickly had to widen his stance as the medial and lateral muscles of his quads swelled. With each widening of his stance, it was only moments later that he could feel his quads fighting against each other for room. For a moment, Christophe thought he was shrinking as he realised he was suddenly getting further away from the surface. With a relief, he realised that it was simply his amassing weight that was forcing him to sink into the soill, and that he was still increasing in size. By the third time of spreading his stance wider to allow his quads more room, Christophe realised he could no longer stretch any further. With and exclamation of relief, his pelvis broke and grew, enlarging his stance. As his waist got broader and broader, his upper body was forced to widen even further to maintain his tapered look. As his pelvis cracked and grew three more times, Christophe felt the muscles in his ass start to grow. How long have I been underwater, he thought... how long have I been growing... how much more will I grow? The more I grow, the more magnificent I feel... and my confidence grows to rule this globe... I am becoming pure power... Wanting to feel his massive ass, Christophe tried to touch it with his hands, but soon discovered that his last were spreading so wide that it was virtually impossible for his arms to even reach his backside. Once again, trying to widen his stance even more to accommodate his inflating quads, his rectus burst forth, emerging as two massive teardrops that dipped over his kneecaps and forced him into a bow legged position for comfort. With happiness and resignation, Christophe knew that from now on he would be forced to walk with a crouched gait. Christophe’s legs were now so massive, so engorged, and so muscle bound that they were nearing redwood proportions. My existence as a mere human is ending, he thought... This was never what I wanted but now I can only beg for more. ⁃ Enter me fully!!! I give you this body as your vessel!! Fill me completely that when I walk... this insignificant world quakes beneath my feet!!! With those words, Christophe’s metamorphosis went into overdrive, and he gritted his teeth in both agony and ecstasy as his pelvus broke and grew for the sixth time, extending his waist even more and forcing his stance to be forever bowlegged. Within seconds of gaining hundreds of pounds more of mass... Christophe’s head burst out of the pool like a fetus leaving the womb. Laughing hysterically, Christophe realised that he now stood nearly 65 feet tall. Around him he could see the water spinning faster and faster with him as it’s focal point. With a cry that scattered every bird for miles around, Christophe’s arms began to shudder with a welcomed burning sensation as finally his upper arms joined the rest of his body in its symphony of growth. Lifting his arms out of the water and flexing, Christophe grinned as he watched his upper arm quickly bloat with size and strength… his biceps and triceps becoming thick and dense. A second shout of delirium erupted from Christophe as his clavicle fractured and enlarged to create more room for upper body growth. The prominence of his upper muscles made it difficult to bend his arms even to flex, forcing them to fall slowly down. As the strength and size of his arms continued to grow, Christophe knew that now he could destroy a building with his very hands, pound a mountain into sand… throw a tree miles away… and his strength only grew as his forearms surged with new size. Even the muscles of his hands would easily be able to pulverise the strongest substance to dust. What will the world see when they finally look upon me, Christophe thought as he grew further out of the pond, his pecs now leaving the water behind. I’ve allowed myself to become a total freak… a human monster… a creature of unstoppable strength! The water was soon touching his first set of abs as he surged even larger, his muscles becoming more grotesque with size. I must be 80 feet tall now and still there is so much water to enter me… to fill me! Throughout his growth, Christophe’s head had become only slightly larger then when the day had started. As the water began to enter him faster and faster, and as he proceeded to get even larger, the bones that formed his head began to fracture, stretch, grow, and re-fuse again larger than before. Trying to hold onto his head but finding the size of his lats and his traps made it impossible to reach, Christophe could only feel every aspect of his face getting larger to match his body. Larger and larger and in the throws of agonising bliss… Christophe’s neck muscles grew thicker to support the new weight of his cranium. As his eyes tripled and then quadrupled in size, his cheekbones, mandible, and nose grew as well. Finally, as his chin grew and squared off, and his brow ridge became more prominent, his traps burst larger and more massive than before and fused once again to just below his ears. Looking around at the world, the shrinking pool seemed so far below him as it barely covered his cock. Then, just as his whole body surged even taller… even bigger… Christophe knew this was the moment he had been waiting for, and he cried out as a massive wave of ecstasy hit him. He could feel his cock getting harder than it ever had been before, but it was his balls he really felt it in. He could feel them constantly filling up and churning… filling up and getting heavier. Soon, although he couldn’t see them over his pecs and abs, he could feel his balls swelling… growing larger… and as they grew, Christophe began to get hornier. Very soon his testicles were pulling down on his sack, blowing up like a water balloons Christophe began to pant as he felt his balls become even more hefty. I can barely concentrate, he thought. My mind… so full of lust.. of cock… of fucking… of muscle… MY MUSCLE!! While his balls tripled again in size, Christophe’s penis begins to squirt pre-ejaculate in larger and larger amounts, continuously throbbing and flexing, and getting noticeably thicker. Taken over by pure animal lust, Christophe closes his eyes tight, scrunches his whole massive face, and he could feel the mounting pleasure as his penis began to swell nearly to its bursting point. Smiling, Christophe could hear and feel the flesh of his cock ripping and repairing itself as his cock began to grow thicker… and thicker… longer… and longer… his heart beating faster as more and more blood was pushed into his cock. The weight of his own cock and balls was getting so vast that he could feel them starting to pull on his groin. His balls, growing at the same rate as his mighty shaft could be heard audibly churning more and more seed. Instinctually, Christophe wrapped his hand around his cock and found it was now so thick that he could barely get his own hand around it. As he stroked, pre flowed freely mixing with the remaining water of the pool. Another wave of intense pleasure hit him as blood was forced more into the head causing it to swell and give Christophe the impression that it just might rip in two. Feeling it with his hands, never had he felt a head so thick and meaty and with such a massive piss-slit!! Soon Christoph was using both hands to stroke himself as his cock and balls grew even more titanic. Every second his whole body was growing, but now it seemed it was all mostly focused on his cock. Grunting, Christophe tugged on his cock, feeling it stretch in his hand. - Need… to… fuck!!! Even when I cum…. I know I won’t be satisfied!!! I’m never… going to… be satisfied!!! I’ll live forever… constantly horny!!!! My whole body… so hard… so colossal! Christophe’s cock quickly became as thick as his own forearm, and together his whole body joined in a symphony of growth. As he stroked harder and faster, he realised that his cock was now becoming more sensitive as his body evolved to have thousands more nerve endings embedded throughout it. Opening his eyes, Christophe could finally see his cock over his pecs… so thick and long. Looking around as he stroked, he could see for miles over the trees. I must be at least 80 feet by now and still I grow… the pool only up to my ankles now… soon I will be completely filled… As his balls grew more and more immense, he began to grow even faster, adding on hundreds of pounds of muscle each minute. Christophe’s whole body flexed and grew as his newly evolved testicles sent massive amounts of testosterone flooding into his body and his final evolution went out of control. Like The Keeper, hair erupted all over his body, growing thick on his face and chest. So out of control was his evolution that, where one follicle would once have grown, he now had five or six, making his growing beard thick and dark. Within minutes, Christophe had a full beard that lengthened as he grew. His pecs, now coated in a pelt of jet black hair, grew even more immense so that no matter how much hair he had in his chest… no matter how thick… nothing would ever hide the musculature. Christophe could feel the hairs on his arms and legs growing as well, trailing down onto his hands and feet, and within minutes his underarms had a forest of long jet black hair. With his hands he could feel his pubes growing denser as they covered his pubic mound and ever expanding balls. Veins thicker than pipelines erupted all over his body to further feed his musculature. As this new body needed larger amounts of blood for his elephantine heart to pump, new arteries and veins were formed to send more blood coursing to his muscles. Christophe’s cock, now longer then his arm grew even thicker as pipe-like veins took root, crisscrossing the entire surface and feeding it. So immense was his cock that it stood out as a monument to all things muscle… to all things masculine… to all things powerful. Joining in the constant leaking of precum, Christophe’s nipples began to leak as well. Moving his hand from his cock to his nipples and then moving it as close as he could to his face… he realised that what was flowing out of him were waters from the pool. I am now the pool… he thought. The smell of the water was intoxicating as it emitted the most intense musk of masculinity and sex. The final waters of the pool was quickly being sucked into his feet, and Christophe felt all of his senses become heightened… as he screamed out in one last surge of evolution… his voice became deeper… a rumble of thunder… His body surged even larger as Christophe became the man he always wanted to be… Shooting up taller and thicker with muscle, Christophe let out a roar. Completely filled now with the water, his intellect also grew… the history of the pool… the history of this globe… now resided within him. Taking in his kingdom, Christophe knew he stood larger than 100 feet and weighed as much as a mountain. He was now more powerful than anything on Earth. He was indeed the true Alpha Male… more supreme than anything to come before or after him. As he began to walk, leaving behind an empty crater, he breathed in and discovered he could smell everything… every plant… every tree… every creature. What have I done, Christophe thought. What am I now? What does the pool have instore for me? This is too much even for me to handle. As I walk, the ground shutters… I tower even above the tallest tree… my musculature… nothing has ever existed such as me. Calming his sudden human fears, the wind of his new world blew through his long black hair and caused his titanic nipples to harden and to leak more of his waters. I am now the Vessel, he thought. I am now beyond the Alpha. Soon the chosen would flock to him… soon the chosen would drink from him… soon he would have an army to command… soon he would fuck… - YES!!! SOON I WILL FUCK!!! THE WATER WILL MULTIPLY GROWING EVEN STRONGER… EVEN MORE POWERFUL. The Vessel… which had once been the human Christophe DuPres, stopped walking for thirty minutes to stroke himself to orgasm, his roar echoing for miles as he showered the world down below with his water… with his seed. He was beyond anything imaginable. Soon the world would see him and worship… and what had begun millions of years ago would finally come to fruition. Smelling the air, The Vessel turned in the direction of the Ocean. Yes… it thought… soon we will merge and I will be complete once again!!!