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  1. Herald

    The locker room loser

    Inspired by a story I've read recently, a short story found its way from my pen to this board. Enjoy! Keith strutted into the deserted gym next to Orchid University. He loved working out late at night, jumping to whatever exercise he felt doing and not having to wait at any of the machines. Not that other guys made him wait. His 6'3 and 242 pound frame not only earned him success on the football field, it also intimidated anyone that got in his way. Not to mention the attention of the girls… He continued past the deserted counter and entered the locker room. He put his bag on a bench and began getting out his shake and towel. "Hi, Keith". The faint voice made Keith turn around and he stared down at the skinny guy that had just entered. He recognized Tyrone, some skinny freshman who worked in the gym. He nodded and returned to his stuff. "What are you training tonight?", the little guy asked, "Or just a quick workout for football?". Great. A talker, just what I need. Why do guys that wanna talk don't go to bars?, Keith thought as he tried to ignore the guy. "Not in a mood to talk? Focused on training, he?", Tyrone went on. Keith turned to face the guy with an annoyed look on his face. He noticed how the shirt hung like a tent on the freshman's pathetic body and how his shorts covered his legs almost completely. He unzipped his hoody and took it off, revealing his heavily muscled torso highlighted by his skintight tank top. Tyrone gulped at the sight of the round shoulders that stuck out like bowling balls to support the thick arms. A smug grin formed on Keith's face at the small guy's reaction. "Training builds muscle. Ya should try it", he said and casually bounced his pecs. "Tough guy, he", Tyrone replied, "Want to test your strength?". He motioned to a weird machine placed at the end of the row of lockers. It was some old-looking grip strength tester. It had an electronic display in the center and below there were four metal handles. "Ya want to go up against me? In a test of strength?", Keith asked laughingly and throw a double bicep pose. His meaty arms swelled to their 20 inches of muscle covered with some fat. "Just for fun", Tyrone said without taking his eyes from the orbs atop the large guy's arms as he moved to the machine. Keith shook his head incredulously and stepped over to the machine, completely dwarfing the freshman. They both grabbed hold of two handles. "Who's the alpha and who's the beta?" The display read off as it sprang to life. "I'll go first", Tyrone said and squeezed the handles with all his might. His 120 body shook and his face turned red from the effort. "POWERHOUSE", the display said. Keith followed. He gripped the handles firmly and clenched his thick fist, his body barely feeling the effort. "POWERHOUSE", the display said, "TIE!" "Seems like were matched", Tyrone peeped, "Let's try again". He repeated his earlier movement, getting another 'POWERHOUSE' reading. Keith couldn't believe this pathetic guy was matching his power. His competitive nature took over and he pressed the handles again. "MUSCLE MAN", the display showed, "Advantage to player one! Next round!". "Not so tough after all, it seems", Tyrone said and continued the game to get another "POWERHOUSE" reading. "What the fuck?!", Keith boomed, "This game is rigged". He summoned his strength, his knuckles turning white as he grabbed the handles. "MANLY", the display showed. Black dots danced shortly before Keith's eyes and a shiver traveled down his spine as he read off the text. "How…", he began and the other words died in his throat as he looked down at his body. His torso no longer strained his tank top. The fabric now sat more loosely around his somehow diminished muscles. He didn't stand out like the heavily muscled guy he used to be, but looked more like someone who worked out regularly. He glanced aside and noticed the other change: the once skinny Tyrone was now filling out the shirt that hung on him like a tent minutes earlier. The guy could now easily pass for a model. "My turn again", Tyrone said in a deepened voice. "No. I give", Keith said and tried releasing the handles but his paws seemed somehow fused to them. "We have to continue the game until there's an alpha", Tyrone said and applied his strength to the handles. "POWERHOUSE!", the display said. Keith gulped as he saw a jolt shoot through the freshman's body. He reluctantly copied his opponent's grab, noticing how the handles seemed to resist. He stared in disbelief at the display as it read "Mr. PUNY". Tyrone looked aside and saw more mass disappear from the football player's body. Their bodies were pretty evenly matched now. "Oh yeah", he grunted as he felt the energy flowing through the handles into his growing body. He grabbed the handles again, now easily pressing into the metal. "POWERHOUSE!!" "Why are there exclamation marks on it?", Keith asked in his weakened voice while he saw another jolt of growth shoot through the now pumped up fitness model-sized freshman that began looking bigger than him. "There's more power in my body now", Tyrone replied in a baritone voice, "your turn". "Do I have to?", Keith muttered. "DO IT!", Tyrone boomed. Keith shook and instinctively obeyed the bigger man. His body shook with effort and his face turned beat red. "WEAKLING" Keith felt another wave of weakness dance through him. His once skintight tank top now hung loosely from his diminished frame. He felt his sweatpants slide down along his thinning legs. He looked down and saw that he had lost every ounce of muscle he'd ever gained. The movement next to him caught his eye. Tyrone saw the mass siphon away from the football player's body and pass through the machine into him. His formerly baggy shirt now clung to his beefed up torso: his swelling pecs pulled the fabric forward while his thickening back pushed the fabric backward and his broadening lats put more and more tension on the seams. The sleeves that used to cover most of his arms didn't even cover his upper arms anymore: his widening shoulders pulled the fabric up to showcase his meaty arms. His baggy shorts now came only halfway on his thick quads. Keith gulped as he had to look up to catch the freshman's eye. The guy now looked like an amateur heavyweight bodybuilder. "Please", he pleaded in an unfamiliar higher voice, "no more. I can't get smaller". Tyrone just smirked and effortlessly tightened his grip around the metal handles, making the machine shake from his force. "POWERHOUSE!!!!!" Keith blinked in disbelief at the display. He refused to look aside as the shadow of the freshman grew and he heard the tearing sound of the ripping fabric. He knew he had no other option than to continue the game. He grunted as he summoned every ounce of force in his weakened body. The handles seemed to resist his grip. "PATHETIC" The letters on the display appeared to turn blurry and a wave of fatigue flowed through Keith. He could feel more size escaped his body and his boxers that used to showcase his meaty ass and lengthy cock fell to the ground. "CALCULATING SCORE", the display showed, "Player two… = BETA BOY!" Keith fell the last ounce of masculinity vanish from him. He felt his balls shrivel to the size of small marbles and pull closer to his body. His cock, once his 10 inches of pride followed this lead: it shrunk to a pencil-thin 2 incher. A ringing sound made him look back at the machine. "Player one", the display said, "… = TOTAL ALPHA!!!!!" "YEAUGH", Tyrone groaned as a final, yet very powerful surge shot through his huge frame. His tight, already ripped shirt exploded into shreds as his huge muscles grew to another level of thickness. A loud snapping sound followed as his shorts and boxers gave in under the pressure of his thickening waist. His head shot up as more height was added to his frame. He grunted as he felt the energy shot into his groin. His balls swelled to the size of lemons and sank lower in between his meaty quads and his 7 incher amassed girth and length, snaking further down against his leg. Without looking at the drained football player, he swaggered over to the mirror on the other side of the locker room. He ripped away the last remains of his destroyed shirt and stared at his nude reflection. "FUARK", Tyrone bellowed, his eyes widening in disbelief at the image of perfection staring back at him. He scanned every inch of his now beastly physique before beginning to explore his new body. His paws groped the protruding rack that hung from his chest, clawing at the hard meat of the half watermelon-sized pecs and testing the weight of meaty slabs; they slid down onto a stony eight-pack made of cobblestones separated by deep grooves. He licked his lips while taking in the size of his perfectly round shoulders that outsized bowling balls and the insane size of the monster arms that hung from them: the muscle on his upper arms twitched underneath the paper-thin skin and seemed ready to explode from it; his lower arms were crisscrossed with cable-sized cords of muscle. His lower body was just as impressive: his quads rivaled young trees in size; they were jam-packed with hard beef that eclipsed his kneecaps; his calves were bigger than most guys quads. He was about to grope the lengthy snake as a faint movement caught his attention. Keith had ignored the giant freshman, knowing he was no match for the guy now. While Tyrone went to inspect his new physique in front of the mirror, the diminished athlete made his move. He slowly released the handles he was still groping, pulled up his now baggy boxers and equally large sweatpants and kept his hand on them to prevent them from falling off again. He cautiously stepped to the door, making sure not to attract the freshman's attention. He grabbed the door handle and tried pushing it down. The door didn't move. He tried again, applying more force this time. "I locked it earlier when I came in". The deep rumbling bass filled the locker room like thunder and vibrated down Keith's weak body. His hand was frozen to the door handle. He heard the heavy footsteps and the large shadow grew on the door as the giant freshman came to him. A paw grabbed his armpit and dragged him in front of the mirror. He glanced up at his reflection and gasped: the ridiculously large clothes hung from his emaciated body and made him look like a kid who had put on his bigger brother's clothes. He peeped as the paw ripped away the clothes and exposed him completely. Tears welled up in his eyes: he looked like a weak boy instead off the hulking athlete he had been minutes earlier. Every trace of muscle that had once highlighted his physique, was gone. The layer of fat that used to give him a bulky appearance now made him look pudgy ad childlike. The beefy football player that dominated the team had been replaced by a meager boyish figure. He couldn't even remember having ever been this small. His 5'1, 105 pound body made him weak and puny by any standard. "Turn around!" The booming command made Keith jump up and he quickly did as he was told. He looked straight at the top row of the most deeply grooved set of abs he'd ever seen. He tilted his head up to stare at the face and instinctively took a step backward as his mind processed the size of the beastly freshman in front of him. The now 6'6, 330 pound Tyrone dwarfed him unlike anything he'd ever done to other guys. His own 242 pound body had been bulky and massive, but the giant freshman didn't seem to have an ounce of fat on him: deep grooves, striations and veins edged along the hulking mass of his hard muscles that pushed against his skin. His square face, shadowed by a five o'clock beard sat atop an insanely thick neck that flowed into a broad line capped with boulder-like shoulders. Striations were visible through the thin skin stretched across the perfectly round delts. A thick vein snaked over the shoulders down on the ham-sized arms and branched off in dozens of smaller veins to feed the huge biceps at the front and the thick triceps that jutted out from the back. The beastly freshman outsized even elite superheavyweight bodybuilders. He looked like an anatomy chart that had come to live and was perfectly proportioned, except for his arms that seemed just a tad too big. Masculinity seemed to ooze from him and hang in the air like electricity around his hulking frame. Tyrone moved in front of the mirror and threw a most muscular. "FUARK", he roared as his muscles exploded in a symphony of harness, striations and veins across his body, "seems like there's a Tyrex in town". The faint 'wow' made him turn his attention back to the former athlete next to him. A smug grin formed on his face as he noted the awe in the frail guy's eyes. "Yo Keith", he said and brought his right arm up in front of his torso and flexed it, 'BADABOOM". Keith's eyes widened while the bicep in front of him exploded in size. The orb of hard meat sprang upward and outward into a pineapple-sized muscle choked in veins. The bicep swelled and hardened some more as the beastly freshman tightened his flex fully, stopping just below 30 inches of pure muscle. The sight of the massive arm hardening inches from his face made Keith's cock race to hardness and spew out a small, watery load that dribbled from the 2 incher. Tyrone noticed the fallen athlete's reaction and felt a jolt go through his own cock while he realized he totally dominated the small guy. He relaxed his right arm, placed his paw atop the guy's bony shoulder and pushed him down. Keith was forced to his knees by the paw that covered his shoulder, upper arm and half of his flat chest. He looked forward and stared straight at the fleshy snake that was lengthening along the thick quad and began rising upward. Within seconds the 14 inch cock was at full length, veins running along the thick shaft and the purple red head pointed directly at his face. He looked up but he couldn't see the freshman's face: the protruding rack of pecs hide it from his view. "Please…", he pleaded but a large paw grabbed the back of his head and the snake was rammed into his mouth. Tyrone grinned as he felt the small guy's hand tug at his right arm that held his head in place. His thick forearms easily withstood the tugging. He pushed more of his cock into the hot mouth. Keith gagged as 10 inches of the fleshy snake filled his mouth. He ceased his clawing and placed his frail hands atop the beastly quads for support as the beastly freshman began pumping in and out his mouth. His vision was filled with the cobblestone-sized abs that flexed on the rhythm of the thrusts. "YEAUGHN", Tyrone roared as ecstasy exploded through his 330 pound body. His lemon-sized balls drew tight and began releasing their thick load into the fallen athlete's mouth. Keith quickly gulped down the first huge load, a second one filling his mouth seconds later. He sucked down as much of the sticky spunk as fast as he could, but the hefty balls kept blasting out loads. Cum began flowing from the corners of his mouth and even from his nose. His vision began going dark by the lack of oxygen. After 10 loads, the snake withdrew from his mouth and blasted a final load onto his face, coating it with liquid heat. The paw released his head and he slumped down to the floor. Tyrone turned his gaze back to his reflection in the mirror. He flexed his left arm, smirking as the huge muscle exploded into a massive orb of vein-covered beef. He would have sworn he heard his skin stretch tight as the monster bicep swelled to its new size. He went over to Keith's gym bag and grabbed his hoody. He ripped off the sleeves and put it on. The zipper could only close over his eight-pack, his pecs protruded so far from his chest that it was impossible to get the zipper up any further. He grabbed a pair of baggy sweatpants from another locker and pulled them on: they fight like a second skin over his gargantuan legs. He threw a final look on the emaciated senior lying on the floor and left.
  2. Back to the first part of this chapter.... "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match Finally, another chapter.....a group of the boys are heading off for muscle worship in LA! Part 1. Sorry it has taken me so long to continue. ENJOY! Comments welcome... Updated Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in priapic size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable need to receive muscle worship. Casey's innocence, simplicity, and his growing need to receive both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match Casey and Abdul shook hands and almost immediately crashed into each other like sumo wrestlers. Moving with confident skill, Abdul wrapped his arms around Casey’s chest and slid them up underneath his armpits. He gained leverage, letting out a massive grunt as he heaved the big muscleboy up off his feet. Casey moaned as Abdul slammed him down to the mat. “Awesome,” breathed Lang. “That was fast,” said Waring. “He’s not done yet,” said Alvarez. The men leaned in to watch closer. The wrestlers’ gigantic muscles rippled with pumping, vascular power on the mat. Casey managed to break free for a second, but found himself in Abdul’s guard. Abdul was already going for a triangle choke. Casey was slippery enough to wiggle free for a moment, but Abdul climbed onto his back and sunk in a chokehold, rocking Casey backwards as he tried to shove his hands underneath his rippling forearm. It was no use. Superior experience took the moment from Casey. Abdul reached behind him and grabbed Casey’s asscheeks. “Let’s keep it clean, keep it clean,” said Moster, circling. “Think you’re tough, punk?” Abdul snarled into Casey’s ear. “I know I am,” said Casey. He struggled to wriggle himself free. Sweat began to pour down his body, further drenching the mat. Abdul stretched him out as the other guys watched. They slid in the growing pool of oil and sweat. As he dug his hands in, he caught Casey’s posers with his heel. Casey could feel them sliding down his quads the harder he squeezed. The elastic band stretched until is slipped under the pouch. For a flash, Casey felt humiliated and helpless, almost half naked and groaning as Abdul dominated him. Then he retaliated. Snapping one hand onto Abdul’s pecs, he managed to push him back and deliver a powerful backhand blow across Abdul’s face. Abdul’s face whipped to one side. “Fuck Turkish rules. Keep the posers on,” Casey snarled. Moster said nothing. Mouths dropped open. Abdul released the posers, smiled back, as Casey pulled them back into place. Casey looked back at him, and Abdul smiled - and returned a powerful backhand blow of his own across Casey’s face. Casey’s head whipped to the right. He looked back slowly and nodded. “We’re even.” Welts began to appear on the faces of both men. All of sudden, Abdul shot out, gutwrenching Casey’s face into his lap. “No. Now we’re even.” He tried to shoot a takedown, but Casey suddenly sprawled flat, flipped him, and got a tight front headlock on Abdul. He went down on one knee and flipped him over with a fireman’s carry. Before Abdul knew what hit him, he was on his back. Casey felt his arm between his legs as he attempted a cradle. He was close to scoring. Abdul, his face now puffing up, struggled in the sweaty pool of muscle. Casey locked up his hands and rocked him back. The tide of battle changed. Somehow Abdul got to his feet, grabbing hold of Casey’s hips and now shooting for a second takedown, bending over him now and reaching down his broad back. Casey, surprised, tried to sprawl but Abdul guided his hands up again toward the straps of his posers and made him almost sit on his hands. Casey tried to bridge, but Abdul clamped onto him. Saliva sprayed from his mouth and onto the back of Casey’s neck. Abdul flipped him, crashed onto him with his full body weight. It was no use. Casey gave up and collapsed. Sweat poured off Abdul’s face right into Casey’s eyes. Casey slapped the mat to make it stop and Abdul let him go. Body odor wafted from sweaty armpits as the men applauded Abdul’s round one victory over Casey. “Want to go again?” Abdul asked. He was breathing hard. In spite of his win, the kid had been a lot tougher than he anticipated. His eye was swelling shut and his mouth was bleeding a little. “I can take it,” said Casey. His thin skin was red with mat burns, head was throbbing. Was this really him? It was as if he couldn’t control the truth coming out of his mouth. It all felt right. He could take it. He loved the pain, in fact. Loved it. But didn't really want to think about it for the moment. Abdul nodded, stepped back, retired to the corner of the ring. Pedro was there, pouring more oil. “Don’t need that. Massage my shoulders.” Pedro looked at him a little helplessly, his light kitchen fingers not nearly meaty enough to knead the dense muscle mass that was Abdul’s traps, but he tried. After a few seconds, Abdul brushed him away, irritated. “Never mind,” he barked. Pedro’s eyes flashed hurt, and Abdul brought himself up to smile at him slightly. “You tried.” He patted the handsome boy’s face heavily with thick oily fingers, leaving a gleaming handprint on Pedro’s cheek. Pedro beamed ecstatically. He so hoped he could suck his god’s cock later, but didn’t dare to ask. Abdul turned back into the ring. He called to Schumacher. "Get your ass over here and massage my shoulders," Schumacher grunted and went to work on him, kneading the bunched masses with his thick, powerful fingers. Casey was still center, dancing from foot to foot, not caring that his massive tool was bobbing out of his posers. “Lookin’ good, Case,” yelled Obatu from the sidelines. He turned to Washington, sitting next to him. “Know him from Raw Weight.” “Yeah, Miles’ place. Gotta get there again soon.” “Good workouts.” He winked. “A little cash to be made, too.” “Yeah? Doin’ what?” “You know. Trainin’. Getting’ big. Growing. Flexing. Getting your dick sucked. You know.” “Oh, yeah.” Casey didn't know. But he forgot about it in a moment. The whistle blew. “Round two!” announced Moster. Casey and Abdul stepped towards each other, circled, each more wary. On the sidelines, Alvarez glanced over at Lang. Lang’s pants were open, his zipper down, his cock tumbling out of his khakis. He happily worked his long, extra-thick shaft. He glanced up at Alvarez and shrugged. “It’s hot,” he said. Alvarez had to acknowledge it was. “So why not?” Alvarez nodded agreement, opened his fly, with some difficulty pulled out his own already-stiff, mammoth member, and began to chug up and down the shaft with practiced, heavily calloused fingers. Lang looked down, grinned, licked his lips, winked at Alvarez. “Pose and approve later?” “We’ll see.” Lang knew there would be. This was too hot not to follow up with a long pose and approve session and some good butt fucking. But for now, both musclemen turned back to the match and standing side by side, together worked their cocks in silent unison. Their fists plunging up and down. A moment later, Waring, Duncan, and McIntyre had joined them. “Oh, yeah,” said McIntyre. squish squish squish squish squish squish squish squish And a moment after that, Hension, Chad, Meyer and Gunst had pulled their heavy cocks from their khakis and were applying basic spank the monkey techniques. squish squish squish squish squish squish squish squish Moster heard the squishing sounds of numerous big cocks being worked by powerful, pumping fists, looked up, glancing askance at the group. “Begging your pardon sir!” yelled out Hension. “We’re masturbating, sir!” “And why not?” said Moster, but he kept his cock in his pants. Still, out it poled. “Bring it, bitch!” yelled Casey as the two faced off in the center of the mat. “C’mon dude, we wrestlin’ or dancin’? Take a shot!” Abdul taunted. Both men seemed either oblivious to or uninterested in the fact that all around them, every man on the muscle squad was now actively jerking off. Casey shot out a lightning fast single leg. Abdul hopped over it and tried to pivot as Casey dove in, wrapped meaty arms around Abdul’s waist, and brought him violently down to the mat. Somehow Abdul flipped to his belly and Casey applied a painful hammerlock with one hand as he grabbed the back of his head with the other and rubbed his face in the mat. “How’s that mat taste?” Casey asked as Abdul grunted, struggling to turn his head to the side. On the sidelines, Pedro was frantic, seeing his big man suddenly so disgraced, however momentarily. Abdul tried to get off his stomach, but Casey slid his bulging quads down inside Abdul’s and drove his arm underneath his chin. Casey rolled onto his side and poured on the pressure. “Arrgghhhh!” Abdul groaned as Casey stretched him out. Pedro looked on, helpless with worry. “Ya like that, tough guy? Want some more?” Casey murmured between clenched teeth said as he pulled up harder on his chin, Casey totally wrapped around him. Abdul was completely immobilized. He groaned. “C’mon Abdul, you can take this!” Schumacher yelled. He too was now playing with himself freely. Lang, firing away on his stiff-as-iron cock, was laughing. “Put him on his back, Case! Finish him off.” Casey’s posers crept deep into his ass crack as he locked his legs around Abdul’s left leg. His rock hard glutes squeezed together as he wore the huge Turk down. Abdul tried to get free of Casey’s chin lock, but it was no use. He panted and groaned as Casey pulled his head down. “Got some lube?” asked Chad from the second row. The source was surprising. “Here,” said Schumacher, passing around tubes of the prime VALHALLA LABS signature cock-pumping oil. “Gift from the house.” “When did we start making this stuff?” asked Hension, looking down at the tube as he squeezed the warm lubricant onto his thick cockshaft. “Shut the fuck up,” said Lefevre, but he grinned good-naturedly, clapping Hension lightly on the back of the head. On the mat, Abdul suddenly switched it all out. He pried Casey’s hands from the chin lock and sank his arm around Casey’s neck, pulling him down to the mat and now choking him out. His drove his ankles down deep into Casey’s quads and he began to constrict his hold around his neck. Sweat poured off both men. The strong smells of perspiration, olive oil and butt wafted up into the overhead lights. It was now Casey’s turn again to groan in pain. Abdul’s powerful forearm was wrapped around his thick neck. Moster jumped into the ring, sticking his head into his face and asked Casey if he was ready to give up. Casey was grunting and struggling to breathe. Casey was unable to say the words I give. “Too soon,” he breathed out from under Abdul’s body mass. “Loosen up, man,” Moster said to Abdul, who nodded. Abdul loosened the hold so Casey could breathe, but he wasn’t done. Casey tried to get up, but Abdul still was controlling him. Then Abdul reached down and once again slid his hand down into Casey’s now-ripped posers. Casey looked angered as Abdul grabbed onto his thick cock. He handed off the poser to his foot, and peeled Casey’s poser down revealing the muscleboy’s huge penis. “In Turkish oil wrestling rules, the match is now over,” muttered Gunst from the sidelines, watching the mass of slippery muscle tumble on the mats. He rubbed the bulge in his pants, and glanced down. Straight up and out, past the belt line, up into his t-shirt, poling up above his belly. He unzipped and released his mass. “We done?” breathed Abdul. “No!” yelled Casey, now naked. “Naw, it’s way better than Turkish wrestling,” whispered Blankenship, now fondling his own stiff penis, still sheathed in khaki. Gunst looked him quizzically. “I like how it feels in my pants.” “Oh. Oh, yeah. Me too. Sometimes.” Gunst began pumping. “But not now.” Around the ring, all cocks were pumped a little more fiercely as the match intensified. “Okay then. We go for a pin.” Abdul moved his hand up to Casey’s head, rubbing it in his hair to get some sweat for lubricant. Then he came back rubbing Casey’s cock until it was rock solid. Out it poled, 12 inches and more. “Whatcha gonna do about it this time?” he sneered. The 17 bodybuilders were now all leaning in and pumping hard cocks, watching the sweaty jumble of muscle on the mat. Even Schumacher was now pumping furiously. As was Tiffany. For once the self-possessed little muscleboy let his guard down. He worked his cock ferociously, watching the dark match. “They’re pretty even,” said Warning. “Yeah,” said Chad. Next to him on the left, Obatu and Washington looked as if they were about to get up. A light flickered in Lang’s eye. Hension looked wildly around him. He was going to cum soon. Moster directed them all warningly, knowing where they were likely to go next. “Stay where you are, gents. No cumming. Men can hold it.” General moans. The men did as they were told. The wrestling room was silent except for the grunts of Casey and Abdul, the near-silent whirring of Dr. Irving’s video cam, the blue-balled moans and groans of the fleet of masturbating muscle giants, with the squeaky wet regular tattoo of lubricated palms working big cocks. Squish squish squish GRUNT GROANNNN squish squish squish squish squish squish “I SAID, DO NOT CUM!” Moster shouted suddenly. All jumped in their seats. “A man can withstand it!” All sat. 17 monster muscle cocks with nowhere to go but into calloused palms. For now. Up and down. Up and down. “Hey, Chad!” whispered Bogarde loudly. “Squeeze my nips!” Chad reached over to his right with his free hand (the other feverishly pumping his cock) and began violently tweaking Bogarde’s huge, downward-pointing think nipples. “Yeah, make me hurt, man!” Bogarde pleaded, working his cock. “You got it, man.” Squish squish squish UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. squish squish squish squish squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. Suddenly Abdul flipped, keeping his hold on Casey, who squirmed below. Casey was on his back now with Abdul on top, now in the north-south position. All Casey could see was Abdul’s bulging balls and the red singlet outline of his rigid cockshaft. Abdul lowered his balls onto Casey’s face and caught his head in between his legs. But Casey somehow spread his legs and reclamped behind Abdul’s neck. The two muscle monsters squeezed each other tight, rubbing crotches in each other’s face. Casey’s enormous penis brushed Abdul’s scratchy beard. “Ouch!” Casey cried. Finally Abdul broke the hold and swung around to face Casey, getting him in one of his killer headlocks. Once again, Casey was in trouble. But he managed to dig an elbow into Abdul’s groin. Abdul shouted and Casey pried himself free, stood, and turned. He lunged full weight at Abdul. Abdul was ready for him, grabbing his shoulders and shoving Casey’s face right into his and applying a submission hold. For a moment, they looked into each other’s eyes. Then Abdul drove Casey’s shoulders into the mat. “Ughhhh,” Casey moaned. Abdul had mounted him and was driving his elbow into his head. It was momentary. Casey flopped in his own sweat a moment, and then, with surprising swiftness, changed course, wrapping his hands behind Abdul’s neck and pulling him in toward his chest. He wrapped his legs tight around Abdul’s body and grunted as he started to gain control. Abdul and Casey slid around the mat, slipping out of each other holds as they tried desperately to get a submission out of each other. Suddenly, Casey managed to climb on Abdul’s back and slip his arm under his chin. His stiff cock slapped against his abs. “Shit!” Abdul yelled as Casey secured the choke. Casey squeezed harder. Suddenly Abdul was struggling to breathe. His face was beet red. And suddenly, it was over. Abdul slapped the mat furiously and Casey released his grip. He let out a whoop. He grabbed Abdul by the hair and lifted his head up, using his other arm to flex his biceps. Fast as a flash, Abdul grabbed his hand and twisted his wrist, ensuring Casey’s victory was a brief one – but it was too late. The image had been captured in the men’s brains. “Aweesummmm,” breathed Hension, once again, and to no one in particular. “Wait till I call it!” yelled Moster. “Fuck you,” said Abdul. He hunched back on his knees and locked Casey up in a kneeling position, pressing his slippery forehead into his and looking into his eyes. They panted for breath. Once again, as if alerted by a bugle charge, both suddenly sprang once again into action. Abdul managed to get a headlock on Casey and threw him to the mat. His cock slapped against his leg as Casey tried to turn to avoid getting pinned. Both were so sweaty and slick with the now hot oil that neither could get a good hold. The mat was an ocean of steaming sweat and oil, both men sliding in the mass of liquid. In the circle of chairs around the wrestling ring, the bodybuilders pumped their blood-engorged cocks feverishly. On the mat, Casey freed a hand and ripped Abdul’s singlet wide open. The Turk was enraged. His cock spilled onto the mat. Pedro leaned forward now openly licking his lips. “Please let us cum, sir!” pleaded Hension. “Okay…..guess I’ll play, too,” said Moster, studiedly lazily. He advanced into the center of the ring where the two muscle monsters lay, locked in sinew, sweat, and bronzed oil, their huge cocks flailing openly. “Men, why don’t you join me?” Moster smiled. He only had to ask once. In a heartbeat the 17 bodybuilders bolted from the chairs, clambering over one another and the rings to get to the center of the ring. Still, they waited breathlessly, cocks in hand, no one daring to make a further move. Abdul shot a look of helpless rage up to Moster, but Casey was holding him firm. Neither man could budge. squish squish squish squish GOOSH squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. And Moster unzipped. The largest black cock in the world poured out of his pants, flopping down to his knees. FLOPppp… In a second it was poled high, reaching nipple level. Moster grabbed it with his fist and slid his hands down it just three times. squish squish squish squish GOOSH squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. “I’m ready,” he said quietly. The bodybuilders circled the wrestlers, side by side. Casey stared at the huge, pendulous looming cocks above him, heavy dew drops of precum beginning to drip, oozing into the mass of mat liquid in which the two musclemen lolled in their struggles. It was as if it was the first time he had even noticed what the men were up to. “What are they doing??” he cried out to Moster. “What’s it look like, punk?” growled Abdul in his ear. Moster ignored him. “Pedro,” Moster invited graciously, “why don’t you get over here and join us?” Pedro didn’t have to be asked twice. He scampered gleefully into the circle, a little beautiful brown spot of handsome teenhood amidst a turbulent ocean of masturbating musclemen. He pulled out his own pretty little cock and began to pump fiercely, gleefully, staring hungrily at the huge muscle and looming penises all around him. After only a moment, he couldn’t stand being surrounded by the sea of cock without getting to his knees and starting to suck his way around the circle, feverishly. He started with Gunst, his pretty little mouth enveloping the massive organ. From the sidelines Dr. Irving began to walk rapidly behind the circle of men, panning his cam across the landscape of their solid glutes, huge, hard and round, squeezing and relaxing in tense, pumping cannonballs of butt muscle as they pumped their cocks feverishly. Backs of heads. Batwing lat spreads of knitted boulders of muscle. Delts touching. Hamstrings pounding with thick rivers of veins. Butts pumping. Irving got it all on cam. Someday he knew this video would be worth thousands….hundreds of thousands. He captured it all. From the mat below, Casey gazed up, exhausted and confused, bewildered and amazed at a sea of musclecock held high above him. Abdul merely growled. In a few seconds the waterfalls of cum would begin. He couldn’t admit to himself that he had wanted something like this to happen. “What’re they gonna do?” asked Casey, fearfully, muffled. Hmmmm, thought Moster as he pumped his organ. The white cap is wearing off. Probably from the match. If it was still in him, he’d have no problem. Still, it didn’t stop anything. The bodybuilders were groaning loudly now, pumping and flexing, rocking ball-toe-heel, their magnificently bodies undulating rhythmically. “Let ‘er rip!” Moster, now pumping furiously, looked to Dr. Irving, who had never stopped the video, nor moved. “You getting it all?” “Of course,” said Irving, irritated, shocked, perplexed and baffled as always - but never daring to shut down the cam. He could never understand what all this had to do with science, but never mind. He was well paid. “Muthafucker!” Hension screamed. “You boys about ready to shoot?” Moster asked. “Hang on. They ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” said Abdul. He squeezed Casey’s head as hard as he could. It wasn’t too long before Casey wriggled out of it and was on his hands and knees facing him. He came in at Abdul and tried to push him over onto his back, but the muscle Turk reached behind him and sunk his fingers right into Casey’s exposed anus. “WHAT THE FUCK!” Casey cried as Abdul used his rectum as a handle to flip him over. He slammed on his back on the mat. An ocean spray of sweat and oil sloshed into the air. And around them the squishing sounds of muscle jerking grew more frantic. “Oh, maaaaa—aaaan,” said Hension. “Hold off, men!” shouted Moster. "Santa mierda de Dios,” breathed Pedro, now frantically licking Obatu’s cock up and down its 12-inch length. Obatu’s pumping fist was punching him repeatedly in the nose. He didn’t care. He held the cock between his lips and sucked hard. Precum began to spurt down his throat. Squish squish squish UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. GOOOsh squish squish GOOOsh groannnn Ugh unnnghh squish squish squish squish squish squish UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. Casey and Abdul were in a mad final scramble now. Both knew the match was coming to an end. Abdul was enraged he somehow didn’t have the conditioning to go a full hour with Casey; it had only been 12 to 15 minutes in the ring, and no more – and he was wiped out. For his part, Casey was panting deeply and hot as a furnace, pushed to the max. And yet. And yet. Abdul knew Casey could outlast him. Casey, however much he might be forever on the bottom tonight, yet had a couple of hours of strength to go. It was only that he lacked the fighting technique Abdul had hard earned over the years. And this enraged the Turk. Abdul got behind Casey and sunk his arms between his legs, locking onto his other arm and driving his biceps into Casey’s balls. Abdul’s forearm pressed painfully against his thick penis. Casey couldn’t take it. He had to move, giving him enough space to maneuver. Dirty Turkish wrestling. Casey managed to get a “Fuck you”, but he was outclassed, totally helpless and defeated. “I gotta suck cock!” Lang shouted, and dove down in front of Alvarez. In a flash Alvarez’s meat was in his mouth, sluicing juicily down his throat. “Me too,” muttered Hension, who dropped down in front of Gunst. He bobbed and weaved with the mighty strokes Gunst was applying to his huge cock, ducking his head, trying to get his mouth around it. “Shit,” said Gunst. With his right hand he backhandedly smacked Hension’s face hard, grabbed the back of his head, clenched a handful of hair; with his left hand he clutched his cock and rammed it down Hension’s throat. Hension began to violently suck muscle giant’s firehouse cock while working his own and never taking his eyes off the grappling musclemen on the mat. Abdul had Casey’s legs now, lifting him up so Casey was upside down, sliding down Abdul’s back till his head hit the mat and he was facing his ass. His nose went right into Abdul’s exposed ass crack for a minute while the Turk kept tilting his head back to put pressure on Casey’s balls. But Casey rallied. Groaning, straining, working hard, he trapped Abdul’s head in a figure 4, squeezing his face right into his balls as he pinned him. “Yer so eager to see my cock, so get an eyeful of it now,” he hissed. Abdul tried to snarl back, but he could only groan. He was getting tired. And the muscleboy had hours of energy ahead of him. He could feel it. Moster had a hard time seeing if the Turk was pinned or not, the men were so wrapped up in an oily mass of muscled quads, rippling traps, batwing lats, boulder biceps, brick-like abs, pounding glutes, pounding feet, pounding fists, and bulging balls. But it wasn’t looking so good for the Turk. UGH UGH UGH GROAN…. The squad, now in deep sex frenzy, was by now beyond observing the details of combat. Blankenship and Waring had each dropped to their knees, sucking the heavy, veiny cocks of Chad and Washington. Schumacher grabbed Meyer, flipped him around, pulled down his khakis, and plunged his cock mercilessly into his welcoming butthole as the handsome deaf mute played gleefully with his engorged manhood. He began to fuck him with deep and powerful strokes. Meyer smiling ecstatically and waved his mighty butt under the cock blows. He reached back and pried his buttcheeks wide. His asshole was as open as he could get it. He spread his legs. Schumacher’s thick cock was in action, driving, pounding, fucking. Squish squish squish fuckfuckfuck UGH GROANNNN UGH UGH GROAN…. Moster could see where it was headed on the mat. Abdul had taken the first two pins. But Casey was just getting started. He was mad now. The effect of the white caps was weaving in and out, true, and Casey was responding as if he was on mushrooms. But his huge muscles were gleaming with power. Every vein was bursting. Sweat was pouring off both men. And Abdul was breathing hard. But he still had the upper hand. Still, Moster pumped harder. He had to admit: this was pretty hot. Pedro looked at him adoringly, moved to take Moster’s cock in his mouth. Moster pushed him back roughly. “Get away, son,” he barked. Pedro looked frightened and abashed. Moster smiled slightly, an eyebrow arched. “You being a bad boy? Might have to tan your hide later,” he murmured. Pedro looked hopeful but the fear still glistened slightly. He glanced down at Moster’s powerful fist, now stroking his massive meat up and down, up and down. “Your hand could kill my butt!” he squeaked. “Not your butt, little boy. Not yours. Now get out of my way. Go suck Private Duncan’s cock.” Moster tossed a glance at Duncan, who was busily working his dick. Pedro scampered away, ran to Duncan, and knelt before him. “The C.O. says I have to suck your cock,” he cried out, and gathered the mighty pole into his mouth. Duncan was startled. “Okay,” he said. “Don’t mind.” Pedro knelt and went right to work on Duncan’s massive tool. He was particularly excited by the latticework of heavy veins surrounding the muscleman’s member. He began to trace his finger along the thick rivers of vascularity as he sucked. Duncan spread his legs wide. He grabbed Pedro’s black hair in his fist and began to steadily pump his hips into the boy’s face. On the mat, more spent than he wanted to admit, Casey stared up at the circle of musclemen above and around him. Four of the musclemen were sucking musclecock now. The little Mexican teenager was scampering about sucking musclecocks as they were freed up. Schumacher was fucking the cute little muscleguy’s awesome glutes. The other 7 musclemen were straddling the mat edges now, massive quads akimbo, pumping serious cock. And the CO Sergeant Moster had his cock out, too. It was the biggest penis Casey had ever seen in his life. Even bigger than his own. Which was huge. As he stared, he lost focus. And in a flash, Abdul had flipped him again and was straddling his pecs with his own huge body and pressing for an advantage. Casey couldn’t move. The sounds of musclesex filled the wrestling room. On the sidelines, Dr. Irving was capturing it all on video. GOOOsh squish slurp suck suck slurp squish GOOOsh groannnn SUCKSUCK LICK SLURP fuckkkk Casey grunted. A surge of energy hit him. He tried a duck under, but Abdul kept the upper hand. As he went down to his knees on the mat, Casey kept his left arm welded to the Turk’s shoulder, pulling out to his side and anchoring his right hand deep in his anus. “Turkish rules, right?” Casey snarled into Abdul’s ear, beginning to chew on the lobe. He was back in control again. The Turk let out a short gasp as he felt Casey’s index finger work up into his asshole, a big grin on his face. Abdul wanted to smash those perfect teeth in, but he was too busy trying to pry the muscle giant kid’s finger out of his butthole. With a sudden rush of White Cap adrenaline, Casey moved his right arm around Abdul’s waist, mounted him and broke him down so his belly was flat on the mat. He managed a gut wrench and turned him over once, but he was too tough and was able to counter Casey’s leverage with his strength. Moster knew he had to step in. He couldn’t afford to have Abdul so badly defeated. Not yet. Not at the outset of Casey’s career. Sure, Casey Rockland was a muscle outlier. There may never have been a muscleman like him before, and there may not be another again. But it was too soon for the legend to emerge. For the good of the program, Casey had to lose tonight. And it didn’t look as if he was going to. So Moster did the one thing he could do, to save Abdul’s neck. Moster blew the whistle and reached in. He grabbed them both by the scruffs of their necks and powerfully brought them up to their knees. Casey was stunned, dizzy, swirling with confusion and excitement and pain and frenzy all at once. Abdul’s rage was huge but not huge enough to allow his own massive tool to go limp. Both muscle monsters were sporting huge erections. And the men around them were pumping and sucking and fucking furiously. Ugh unnnghh groan moan slurp suck squish squish squish slurp suck suck squish squish squish AH AHH AHHHHHH yeah yeah yeah UNNNGHHHH AAAAHHHHHH!!!! Moster stepped forward, grabbed his mighty cock, knelt down next to the knotted figures of muscle, and began to shoot cum in the Turk’s face. SPURT! BLAST!! AAAHHH YEAH!!! Gallons of gobs of white creamy cum shot maniacally from his deeply creased piss slit. And the biggest cock in the world, on the biggest bodybuilder in the world, began to throb and spurt hot liquid rivers of jism onto the Turk’s face. “FUCKING HELL!” roared Abdul. ‘GODDAMN YOU MOSTER!!!” And the cum spilled, coating his roaring face, filling his mouth and nostrils, dripping down his chin. Moster was aiming it, like a firehose. “On the Turk, men!” he shouted. And with that…all hell let loose.
  3. Catch up: Precis: Valhalla Labs is a remote mountaintop Northern California military facility, overseen by genius muscle growth scientist Dr. Ira Zaftig and CO Staff Sergeant Rod Moster, a 7'-0" ripped and hung 395-pound black muscle giant. There, 18 extraordinary bodybuilder-soldiers live, train, and play together, overseen by Moster's strict rules and brutal regimen for muscular perfection. Known as Project Herculaneum, the men serve as Dr. Zaftig's lab rats, receiving regular injections of P-21, a specially developed enzyme that facilitates muscle and strength growth in the very few bodybuilders whose systems can withstand it. The goal: to create an army of supermen, whose strength, size, and combat skills are unparalleled in the modern military. Unfortunately for the Project, the soldiers' enhanced strength and dramatically increased muscular size is accompanied by a corresponding increase in penis size as well, along with a rapidly diminishing sense of social restraint and inhibitions. And along the way, the men's extraordinary physiques prompt their own extreme muscle fantasies into a daily acting-out sexual reality. Into the mix comes young Casey Rockland, a lonely, handsome, innocent, super-hung 18-year old bodybuilding giant. Inducted by Dr. Zaftig into the top-secret government muscle strength and growth project, Casey comes to learn the ropes amongst the muscle giants, whose hunger for hardcore training is matched only by their sexual appetites and growing fantasies, including their insatiable appetite to receive muscle worship. Casey's simplicity, and his ever-growing need to receive equal doses of both love and muscle worship threaten the very core of the decade-long Project, itself only now approaching its full potential. Links to previous chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match THE TWENTY A Government Issue Adult Cartoon -XXX- Muscle Fantasy By Joey Silverado This book is dedicated to Tiny Yokum – and to all his fans, past, present, and future. Chapter 13: After the Match Casey lay on the wrestling mat, completely spent. His eye was swollen – he’d have a nice shiner tomorrow. His huge, tired muscles gleamed oily red with sweat and scratch and pressure marks from the match. Casey dripped with splotches of oil mixed with muscle cum. Lakes of cum oozed into the oil, painting his raw, vascular physique a creamy, drippy, white, gathering in little lakes in the deep cobblestones of his abs, rolling in thick tides down his lats and onto the mat. “What the fuck?” he asked plaintively. “What kinda place IS this?” He sniffed the air. Cum. Everything smelled of cum. Around and above him the men were zipping up, putting their cocks away, retrieving sweaty, torn clothing. Karim Abdul, the vanquished muscle monster, lay to his left. Enraged, cum-coated, growling. “I’ll get you, kid,” he threatened. He stood, rivulets of cum flowing down from his face onto his massive traps. He started off. He stopped when he got to Blankenship. Blankenship grinned toothily. It didn’t last long. POW!!! Blankenship flew about 20 feet into the air from the force of Abdul’s uppercut punch, his feet never touching the ground. A tooth, suddenly without a home, landed beside him. Out cold. “Where you going, Corporal?” Moster demanded, stuffing his massive, dripping cock back into his pants and zipping up with some difficulty over the bulge. Abdul ignored him, stalking out the room. "Come on, Pedro," he barked to the pretty little kitchen boy, who scampered eagerly after him. “Someone get Blankenship and put him to bed.” Moster sighed, knowing that the muscleman would demand a match of his own the next day. And on it would go, until he was forced once again into public bare-butt spankings to keep them in line. Funny how they’d deck one another but submit meekly to hard paddling on their razor sharp glutes. The men stared a little – though all had seen Moster’s cock before – in fact, all the men had at various points sucked it dry, and had their own faces coated with the steady, unrelenting stream of ropey gism that shot from his deep piss slit. But no one could remember a group scene quite like what had just occurred. Abdul stalked off to the showers, Schumacher and Obatu bent to pick up a groggy, moaning Blankenship. Moster took his clipboard to a desk in the corner of the wrestling room and lowered his rockhard muscle butt into the swivel chair, which sagged and groaned under his mass. Corporal Alvarez and Private Lang, who had called Casey a motherfucker, but somehow managed to make it sound good, turned to check out the new muscle kid last time as they passed through the door back to their quarters, where they planned to fuck butt all night. They knew Moster wouldn’t be paying attention. Not tonight. Casey caught their look, and they nodded briefly at him. Lang gave him a half smile. Then he winked. And then they were both gone. Schumacher didn’t leave right away, though. He handed Blankenship over to LeFevre and stood back, watching like a hawk as the others filed out. Then he walked boldly right up to Casey. He looked up at him. “Sergeant Moster has another little honorary initiation ritual on that I think you may find both interesting and rewarding.” He smiled. “We’d like the opportunity to take you through it tomorrow.” “I - I’ll be honored to be a part of it.” “Yes, you will.” “Get out of here, Schumacher,” said Moster with good-natured gruffness. Schumacher looked blankly at Moster, who hadn’t even looked up from his notes. “And it won’t be tomorrow. It won’t be any time soon.” He looked up. “For Casey, that is. However, I’d be happy to accommodate you at any time.” His hand twitched and Schumacher instinctively shot a hand down to protect his glutes. “Yes, sir.” Schumacher left the lab. “Sorry about that, Casey,” said Moster, as soon as he was gone. “Corporal Schumacher gets a bit riled over anything having to do with Private Tiffany. They all have their quirks. You’ll adjust. Those last two men? They were Private Robert Lang and Corporal Julio Alvarez. Those two specimens were brought into the facility only a year ago. Others have come, but not everyone makes it through, and if they fail, then Zaftig releases them back into the general population. In fact, only 1 in 50 make it as far as you have. Now, drop your posers. It’s time I inspected your penis more closely.” Casey slightly rolled his eyes. “Again, sir?” “I’m not going to say it twice.” Casey nodded, resigned. He understood. It was about his penis, after all. Not his muscles. His dong. His wang. His rod. His cock. His huge motherfucking penis. It was always about his huge motherfucking penis. Moster was watching him steadily, his eyes narrowing. “Is there a problem, cadet?” he asked quietly, after a moment. “No problem, at all, sir.” He slipped his fingers into the elastic band of his torn, micro posing trunks and pulled it out from his body, and slid it down over his quads. Pop….. Smack! His giant penis poured out and slapped down onto his quads just above his knees. Immediately it stiffened slightly. The bell-like cock head bobbed forward once or twice, and the pulsing veins in the shaft began to throb a little more rapidly. Casey was breathing hard now. He was beet red with embarrassment. Moster never stopped looking him in the eye. He strode forward and grabbed hold of his thick penis in his left hand, squeezing the shaft lightly. Casey’s eyes widened in profound surprise. It grew hard in the palm of his hand. His palm glided up and down the warm steely rod 2, 3 times, very slowly. It grew under his hand. “Impressive. How big is this machine of yours?” He stroked it with his fingers. “I see you didn’t cum during the match." He began to rub his heavy hands with practiced movements up and down the boy’s thick shaft. “I – I don’t know, sir.” Casey had begun to sweat. Moster remained cool. “No, I didn’t shoot.” He shuffled from side to side, and his penis slipped out of Moster’s palm. Moster looked up. He took hold of the cock firmly once again. “You seem agitated. You badly need some additional training. Part of what marks this troop is their ability to restrain their emotional responses. And it seems to me your cock is responding emotionally.” Moster continued to stroke Casey’s machine vigorously. “So since we’re going in that general direction, let’s take a few additional measurements. Private Tiffany!” he suddenly called out towards the open corridor door. No response, but Casey made out a figure in the darkened shadows of the corridor. “Private Joe Tiffany. I know you’re out there. Step in here now, Private.” Tiffany appeared in the doorway. The young bodybuilder had removed his t-shirt and stood stripped to the waist. His ripped muscles gleamed in the fluorescent light. He entered the lab and walked bow-legged, a coiled cobra, towards the two musclemen in the center of the room. “Take some additional measurements, Tiffany. You know what I am referring to.” Tiffany smiled. “Yes, sir, I know.” He approached Casey. Looking him squarely in the eyes, he knelt with business-like efficiency before him. When his eyes were level with Casey’s member, he looked squarely at it. “What is the diameter, Private Tiffany?” Moster reached again for the clipboard, all business. Tiffany opened his smiling mouth wide and moved towards Casey’s cock. Casey nearly jumped out of his skin. “What’s he doing?!” “Private Tiffany has an unusual talent. It’s like having perfect pitch. He can take exact measurements with his mouth. He’s never off by more than 1/64th of an inch. Go for it, Private. Enjoy yourself, Casey.” “Flex for me, dude,” cajoled Tiffany sweetly, his mouth hovering just above the head of Casey’s enormous penis. “Come on, man, let’s see those big rocky peaks.” He flicked his tongue out and lightly touched the corona. “Sir…” Casey started to say. “Cadet Rockland, Project Herculaneum soldiers do as they’re told. Private Tiffany will now suck your cock. If you have a problem with this, speak up now. We administer regular oral-stimulation sessions here at Valhalla Labs.” “But ….it’s so gay, sir.” Tiffany snickered. “You’re standing there covered with oil and cum and you’re complaining about this being gay?” Moster stepped forward and spoke evenly. “That’s enough, Tiffany,” Tiffany immediately shut up. Moster turned to Casey. “Muscle is its own sex. Some have posited over the years that sex is bad for bodybuilders. We know better here. Cocksucking is not only pleasurable, it stimulates the psyche. It clears out problems with the prostate. Done regularly and properly it enhances semen production. It sharpens the animal instincts, to say nothing of increasing testosterone production. It also serves to further bond the men.” “You mean everyone sucks dick here.” “Everyone who wants to remain in The Project get their cocks sucked. Not only that, they are expected to suck cocks themselves. Regularly. Is there an issue? Are you frightened?” “No….I…..what if he bites me?” Tiffany gave him a lopsided smile, which he meant to be charming. “I never bite too hard,” he said. “I assure you Private Tiffany knows what he is doing. Proceed, Private.” “Okay…..” said Casey, bewildered. “Let’s see those guns, cadet,” said Tiffany. Slowly, as if hypnotized, Casey raised his arms up into front double biceps. Joe Tiffany smiled like a little boy in a candy store. He flicked a little river of cum that followed a thick vein from the cannonball right biceps to the tri’s. Then he squatted on his handsome haunches. He glanced at the mammoth machine that hung before him, and spoke out of the side of his mouth. “This looks like a real jaw-breaker, sir.” “You’ve worked with mine. It’s far bigger. Get to work,” Sergeant Moster commanded, clipboard ready. “Yes, sir. Anything for the good old USA, sir.” Tiffany fingered his Adam’s apple. “Gotta limber up.” He opened his mouth as wide as he could, yawning it four or five times, retracting his teeth behind his lips. He pressed his palm to his jaw and tilted his head, then raised his hands and gently pried his own mouth open to its fullest expanse. He licked his lips until they dripped with spit. Casey watched him intently, still flexing his biceps. His brain was burning. Tiffany approached Casey’s fully erect manhood, gently guided it up to his mouth, parted his lips slightly, and tenderly extended his tongue to lightly flick the big cock head. Flick. Flick. Flick. Casey blinked. Tiffany ran his tongue along the piss slit and probed a little inside. He looked up again. “What’s your preliminary estimate, Private?” “I’d say it looks to be between 14 and 14 -1/2 inches in length, sir.” “Very good. Girth? “9 inches at least.” “Confirm it, please.” “Yes, sir.” Tiffany leaned in and oh so softly glided his lips smoothly over the head of Casey’s penis. He closed his mouth and gently held firm. He closed his eyes, as if concentrating. Inside his mouth, his tongue methodically caressed the cock head. Casey was blown away. He stared down at the cocky short muscleman whose mouth was now enveloping the head of his penis. No one had ever sucked his cock before, let alone a man, let alone a muscleman. He gulped. Shit, Casey thought. Shit. I’m gonna cum. “Sir, I’m gonna cum, sir!” he blurted out. “Not yet you’re not. No man in my outfit cums in 5 seconds. Control yourself, cadet. Tiffany, what’s your first assessment? How big is this cadet’s cock?” Tiffany, his mouth full of cockhead, tried to respond. He couldn’t. Even he was surprised at the girth of Casey’s member. “MMgghblrb,” he said. “Gaaggg…mmmmhyrpphhhglub……aaaaackk…” “I can’t understand you when you mumble, damn it. Speak plainly, Private.” Tiffany pulled back for a moment, giving the head a final appreciative lick as it popped out of his mouth. “Yes, sir!” He reported, “The corona, I’d say, has a circumference of 10 and 3/8s inches. That sound about right to you, boy?” he asked wickedly. “I…I dunno…” Casey was baffled. What's a corona? Did he mean his cock head? One thing was sure: he was gonna get this guy. He wants to suck my cock, does he? Okay, then. “Now for the shaft.” He smiled again and whispered up to Casey. “This is the fun part,” he said. “Go for it, faggot.” Casey muttered. Tiffany raised an amused eyebrow, then winked at him and plunged forward, his mouth taking in all of Casey’s massive organ. His lips slid easily over the thick shaft, and somehow – by an instinctive rearrangement of tonsils? and a replacement of his soft palate? his mouth glided smoothly down the full length of the erect penis. When he reached the base, once again he stopped. Inside his mouth his tongue stroked the thick, pulsing cock veins. The penis grew stiffer and began to throb insistently inside Tiffany’s mouth. Tiffany sucked Casey’s cock. Back and forth, up and down, tip to base, his lips glided smoothly over the engorged shaft. Threads of thick glistening saliva appeared along the pulsing veins with each plunge. After 10 deep sucks, 5 very appreciative full-length licks, and a little tongue-and-balls-dancing, he pulled back again a moment, and, his eyes dancing merrily up at Casey, he coated the heavy, hairy testicles three or four final times. “Very nice,” he whispered. “Too bad you’ll have to shave these babies.” Okay, thought Casey. Maybe this guy was an asshole, but he was beginning to enjoy this. Something came alive inside him for the first time in his life. Hey, he thought, I really like this. This feels really good. “How do you like it, cadet?” asked Moster, clearly amused. “I like it fine, sir.” Casey managed to get out. “Private Tiffany, resume sucking.” “Yes, sir.” Tiffany went back to work. He sucked deeply five more times, and then pulled back for what he thought was a final time. As Casey’s penis rolled out of his mouth, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He turned to Moster, ready to report. “The shaft circumference is unusually thick. I’d put at just over 9 inches. Length of the erect penis, 14 -1/4 inches from base to tip. Weight, maybe 7 pounds, a few ounces? Give or take.” “Your overall assessment?” Casey was staring, excited beyond words, and getting mad as hell. Why had he stopped? This was just getting good. His erect member lobbed back and forth in the air, protesting, next to Tiffany’s left ear, who had turned to face Moster. Tiffany felt the wind of it as it passed, and studied ignored the whooshing sounds. “Definitely a superior organ. I sense he has not used it much in sport yet, aside from masturbating, but I’d also guess he has to masturbate 4 or 5 times a day. Maybe more. There’s a lot of blood pumping here, and it throbs steadily throughout the sucking process. I’d guess this cock hasn’t been sucked very often before, if ever.” “That’s all you know,” said Casey. “Seems unlikely that such a big muscleboy hasn’t found suitable candidates eager to give him regular blowjobs. There’s lots of men out there who like to suck bodybuilder cock. I suppose women, too. Still, Zaftig said this boy is different. All right, then. You’re done for now. Dismissed. Back to your quarters.” “Yes, sir.” Tiffany got up and winked at Casey, wiping his mouth. “See you later,” he said smugly, and sauntered out of the room. Casey stood trembling. “Do you need to shoot, Cadet?” asked Moster, all business. “Yes, sir, I’m afraid I do, sir.” “Get to it, then.” Moster walked casually over to the main table of the lab, put down the clipboard, and surreptitiously picked up a 2-quart beaker. He approached Casey. Casey grabbed his engorged cock with both hands. His body shuddered. He was about to let loose with a mighty blast of gism. Moster was prepared. He strode forward and grabbed Casey’s cock, and in the moment he exploded, he had the beaker ready. He calmly forced the beaker over the cockhead. Casey was stunned, but couldn’t stop his semen from bursting into the jar. “UUUUNNNNGHHH!” he shouted, and his cum flowed heavily out of his shooting dick and began to fill the container with its milky white thick fluid. “UUUUUUUUNNNNNGGGGHHHHHHHHH!! uuunnnggHHHGGHH!!! YEAH! OH GOD YEAH MAN!” As Casey’s huge body shuddered with spurt after spurt, the cum level climbed, half filling the jar. “AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhUNHHH ARRRRGGGGGG hhhhhhhhhhhh hhhhh……” Three minutes later, with a last huge shrug, he was done. As he shuddered to a finish, Moster corked the beaker and held it aloft. He swirled the thick liquid in each and smiled. “Not bad, cadet,” he said calmly. “Close to a pint. Pretty good for a first shot. You’ll do better later.” Casey was meek and baffled and embarrassed. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “Dismissed. We’ll see you at the gym tomorrow at 0700 hours. Get some sleep, Casey. Good night.” He turned and marched out of the room. Casey wiped his dripping dick with the back of his hand. He picked up his clothes and dressed quickly, forcing his still-hard cock into his shorts. But he wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot. “Shit,” he said. He stood alone in the center of the room, his ripped posing trunks stretched around his ankles, the pole of his mammoth cock weaving out of control in the air. He closed his eyes and scrunched up his face. He was going to shoot again. He grabbed his cock with both hands, and fired towards the ceiling. “UUUUNNNNNGGGGHHHH!” he shouted, and, as ropes of semen began once again to fly into the air, hitting the ceiling, painting the walls, and splashing onto the ground. As his cum shot out of his enormous cock head, he was thinking feverishly. He remembered the cum on Abdul’s handsome Arab face. And he had been accepted into The Nineteen. Would they now be known as The Twenty? Casey knew it to be true. He could now be considered one of the world’s finest bodybuilders, if Project Herculaneum wasn’t so top-secret, and he wasn’t even 20 years old yet. He was powerful. He had a future. He had promised. He was in the elite. The last of his cum geyser shot into the air, arced, and splashed heavily on the sopping marley floor beneath him. His shoulders slumped and he dropped his hands to his sides. So why was he still bothered by something he couldn’t quite figure out? And how come that evil little muscle boy Joe Tiffany looked so familiar to him. Who was he? And why couldn’t he put his finger on it? Casey bent to put what was left of his ripped and shredded posing trunks back on. They barely covered his cock, but he didn’t notice. He waddled to the door of the wrestling room to head back to his quarters for the night. Tomorrow he would move into his new room. He had a lot to think about. He’d have to think about it all.
  4. Hialmar

    Forced to be bro

    Forced to be bro Coach pushed the button again. Josh's fear didn't fade away. If anything, it increased. But it was now increasingly mixed with something else. A, now familiar, fourth warm wave of heaviness, and yet lightness, spread through his body in a pleasant way, and he became aware of his body in a new way. Heaviness. And yet lightness. He was soaked by the ugly-smelling cold-sweat he had exuded, when he struggled and resisted Coach. It had been to no avail. Coach was bigger than Josh, the sort of man Josh had aspired to become. Now, he found himself strapped to a chair in the locker room, an IV needle inserted in his arm and weird electrodes fastened to all his major muscles, and temples even. Coach had probably gone insane, and Josh feared for his life. God knows what unsafe substance Coach allowed to enter Josh's body? And electrodes? Weird ideas by a weird man. Coach pushed the button again. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Body. The terrified incoherent chatter in Josh's mind ran in all directions. He felt dizzy, nauseous. His compression shirt clung to his waist, chest and shoulders in a sticky way. His feet felt heavy inside his trainers, and he could sense the scent of his athletic socks, as they clung to his calves: The honest sweat after a workout, reeking in the locker room. Male sweat. The testimony, that he had done his best, and performed well. Coach pushed the button again. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Body. In a pleasant way. It had happened after the others had already left. Josh had been delayed – on purpose, as he now realised. He knew, that Coach wanted to increase his (and the other members') performance, and some sorts of supplements (not all of them entirely legal) had been part of the routine for some time, now. But this sort of drip-plus-electrodes was something unknown and entirely new, and Josh felt rigid by fear. Side-effects? Consequences? Forced to undergo whatever Coach wanted him to undergo. Coach pushed the button again. Wave. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Body. In a pleasant way. It actually felt rather good. One part of him began to relax. The excitement of another part of him had just begun to increase. He felt so present. Bodily present. In the chair. His arms resting in the armchair. His bum at the seat. Thinking of that, his glutes felt warm, too. Hot and sore, like after a leg workout. Legs. Thinking of that, his quads and hamstrings felt hot and sore, too. Like some pump going on. Which was actually a nice feeling. Coach pushed the button again. Warm. Wave. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Body. In a pleasant way. Relaxed and excited at the same time. Bodily present and resting. All his muscles felt hot, sore and firm. Like after a workout. His socks clung to his calves. Calves felt like concrete blocks now. He was unable to lift his legs. He felt so relaxed, so he couldn't move his back. Hot, sore and firm back. His compression shirt expanded, tight around his widening back, expanding chest and bulging shoulders. The expanse of his back, chest and shoulders defined and limited by the compression shirt – a definition and limit now changing. Moving. Expanding. Redefining former definitions and limits. Hot, sore and firm chest. Hot, sore and firm shoulders: All three parts of his shoulders. Rear, middle and front. Bulging. Bulbous. Hot and sore. Felt good. Coach pushed the button again. Warm. Wave. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Body. Spread. In a pleasant way. Yes, it literally felt good. Why bother? Why worried before? Felt pumped. Felt growing. Felt like a real bruiser taking his medicine. Wow. Bigger than coach now. Biggest. Not so sore any longer. Better. Felt better. Hot and firm body. No: Hot and hard body. So good. Shoulders and traps. Growing in all direction. So good. Huge. Ravine forming between his pecs. Oh, fuck, yes, deeper! Deeper! Continuing between abs. Pain. Good pain. Harder. Harder abs. Narrow waist. Heat in quads. Expanding. Heat in hamstrings. Expanding. Heat. Burning heat in calves. Socks expanding around his calves. Shorts felt uncomfortable. Mostly uncomfortable. One aspect of his shorts felt comfortable: His meat inside the jockstrap. Throbbing inside the jockstrap. Throbbing against his shorts. Big legs. Oh, fuck, his arms, too! HIS ARMS! Coach pushed the button again. Warm. Wave. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Awareness of. Body. Spread. In a pleasant way. He shuddered in the chair now. Shuddered by the power that flowed into him, shuddered by growth, shuddered by the FEELING of it. Fuck yeah! Look at this! Thug brawn! Real bro! Jock power! Not sore. Heat. Heavy and light. And power. This strength. So good. Deff. Changing limits. Expanding all over! Real ace, innit. Wait until I show up at home and show Olivia THIS. And the throbbing python. Impress her. This bro. With bro muscle. No, more: Muscle-god. Felt awesome. Becoming more. Becoming... Oh, fuck, so AWESOME! Like he was built of bowling balls, footballs. Medicine balls. Melons. GRANITE GLOBES! Fuck, look at this! Look at me! LOOK AT ME! Coach pushed the button again. Heat. Wave. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Awareness of. Power. Body. Spread. In a pleasant way. His body spasmed and convulsed in a sweet way now: Yeah, real sweet, innit. How would he be able to think about numbers, figures, stats now? They didn't matter. BIG was what mattered. BIG. BIGGER. HUGE. Steel-hard. More! Yes! More! The heat. The pleasure. The growth. Muscle-god heat. Muscle-god pleasure. Muscle-god growth. It didn't matter, that Coach had a hard-on in his tracksuit bottoms. Look at me, you insignificant shit! Look at this muscle mass! Tremble before me, you bloody wanker! Tremble before this MASS MONSTER! So good. His shorts ripping apart. Unable to resist his ENGORGED quads and POWER hamstrings, letting the throbbing jock out. I'm AWESOME! All body throbbing now. Throbbing of power. Throbbing of growth. Muscle-god power. Muscle-god growth. Wow. The compression shirt. Couldn't take it anymore. Not with THIS back and chest inside! Exploding out of my clothes! Unable to contain me! No limits! UNLIMITED GROWTH! Expanding. HARD! HARDER! INVINCIBLE! These traps! This bull-neck! Love it! The scent. My bro sweat. My jock sweat. My muscle-god sweat. Fuck, yeah, inhale my ultra-testo, fukking tosser. The URGE! More! Need more! Must have more muscle mass! The definition! Unbelievable! These veins! Pump beyond pump. Even better! Bulging all over. Muscle ecstacy! UNLIMITED STRENGTH! Ripping these weak straps apart. Don't stare, dweeb. I will remain in this chair. I will sit on this THRONE OF GAINZ and ABSORB all ultra-gear and all POWER juice you can cram into me. His instincts told him to flex. He flexed. It felt good. Coach looked scared now. It felt good, too. Obey me! NEED MORE!!! Coach pushed the button again. Heat. Wave. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Awareness of. Power. Body. Muscle. Power. Spread. Pleasure. The being, that had been Josh, was now unable to think coherently, even less speak coherently. As it rapidly indurated and spread in all directions it moaned and groaned. Grunted. Roared. Bellowed. It had the power inside it. It embodied power. It was power. It was strength. It was masculinity. It was brawn. It was mass. It grew, gained, bulged and expanded. Its roars and bellows intensified. The scent of sweat and pre-cum was very intense in the locker room, now. Coach pushed the button again. Heat. Wave. Growth. Gainz. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Awareness of. Power. Bulging. Body. Engorged. Muscle. Coach pushed the button again. Power. Spread. Pleasure. Coach pushed the button again. Coach pushed the button again. Power. Oh, fukk, look at me Coach! Pleasure. Power. Uhnnnnn. Pleasure. Uhnnnnnn. Power. Fuck, yes, MORE! Pleasure. Fukk, can't belive... Innit? So... Power. Pleasure. Power. Pleasure. Power. Pleasure. Power. Pleasure. Power! Pleasure! Power!!! Pleasure!!! Power!!!!! Pleasure!!!!! POWER!!!!!!! PLEASURE!!!!!!! POW... Oh, fukk!!!!! Uhh! PLEASURE!!!!!!!! PLEASURE!!!!!!!! PLEASURE!!!!!!!! PLEASU ... Coach pushed the button again.
  5. * FINALLY FINISHED * "Ah, so you're JP's big brother," Andrew realized, once he heard the caller's name. "It's good to meet you man: verbally at least." "It's good to meet you too Andrew," Ryan replied, fully aware that his former coach could hear them. He didn't give voice to his thoughts: I don't want to be known as JP's brother; I'm my own man! "Once Tyler told me all about you, I looked you up on that new YouTube site and saw all your videos. You're an awesome football player man, and you'll have no trouble getting a full ride to any school you want!" "Thanks man," Andrew said, pleased that Ryan had told him how he had found out all about him. "I'm glad to have one fan at least." "Much more than just one, considering all the views your videos got," Ryan assured him sincerely. "That's part of the reason my college coach wanted me to call Coach Palmer and arrange this phone call. My coach told me to tell you that he's going to arrange an Unofficial Recruiting Visit down here for you the next time you're in Virginia." "That's very flattering man; thank him for me," Andrew said. "I'll have to give you the contact information for my high school football coach back in Orillia. He can coordinate with your college football coach to arrange everything for the visit." "It wasn't just your online videos that put you on his radar Andrew," Ryan informed him. "He also took note of your impressive performance at the football camps you attended this spring." "Well I'm glad I wasn't easy to miss," Andrew said seriously. "After all, I was among dozens of other high school football players at those camps, and I think I was the only Canadian there." "You're impossible to miss Andrew," Ryan assured him . "My coach told me that when he saw you in March, you weighed 275 pounds and stood 6 foot 7 inches tall." "Those were my old stats," Andrew said with a cocky smirk. He noticed Coach Palmer edging away to give him some privacy and added, "I'm bigger now." "How much do you weigh now Andrew?" Ryan asked him, sounding a little nervous. "305 pounds of solid muscle," Andrew replied, having detected a hint of fear in Ryan's voice. "It was a great day when I reached the average weight of an NFL lineman." "That's awesome man; I'm really happy for you," Ryan said sincerely. "Coach Palmer's no longer in hearing range Ryan; tell me how you really feel," Andrew said, just to test him. "I have been man," Ryan said seriously, hearing the slight hint of menace in Andrew's voice. I'm going to have to watch myself with him, he thought to himself. He sounds like he's just as smart as my little brother! "My coach told me that your performance at the spring football camps led to you getting offers for Unofficial Recruiting Visits throughout the Midwest." "Starting with Ohio State tomorrow," Andrew said, deliberately dropping the name of JP's hopeful college. "When do I get to meet you in person Ryan?" "You'll have to wait until your Unofficial Recruiting Visit at Virginia Tech," Ryan replied. "My coach asked me if I would be willing to be your campus guide, and I'd be glad to do it." "Thanks man," Andrew said gratefully, getting the feeling that Ryan was a really great guy under his cocky jock exterior. "You know, I just thought of a way we can see each other face-to-face even if we're probably dozens of miles apart." "You're right man, I'm in Harrisonburg off I-81 right now," Ryan agreed. "How can we see each other face-to-face without being in the same room?" he asked. "On Skype man," Andrew replied. "I have it on my laptop. Do you have it on yours?" "Sure I do man," Ryan replied with a big grin, getting excited at the notion of seeing just how big and muscular Andrew truly was. "Do you want to talk later once you get back to your hotel room?" "That sounds like a great idea," Andrew replied, anxious to see what the famous Ryan Maloney looked like. "It's a much better way for two new friends to chat long distance than on Instant Messenger." He heard a long silence on the other end of the line and hastily added, "If you want to be friends, that is." "That's fine with me Andrew," Ryan agreed eagerly. "It would be great to get to know you better and find out how you got so big and strong. Coach told me that you can bench 700 pounds for reps!" "Yeah, that's only because I couldn't find enough weight plates in your home gym to get to my max of 800 pounds tonight," Andrew said cockily. "Hopefully the gym at Virginia Tech has enough weight plates to challenge me." "Wow!" Ryan shouted in astonishment after another long silence. "You're insanely strong man; I bet you can bust through any defensive line effortlessly!" "Yeah I can man, but I always help the other players up afterwards to be a good sport," Andrew said seriously. "No sense being a sore winner." "I've heard of sore losers, but what's a sore winner?" Ryan asked curiously. "A sore winner is someone who gloats about his victory, acting cocky and arrogant as he rubs his success in other people's faces," Andrew replied. He decided to be completely honest with Ryan about his younger brother and added, "Kind of like how JP was during his last workout with you this spring." "So he told you about that, did he?" Ryan asked angrily. "No, I kind of tricked it out of him," Andrew replied. "I'll tell you more when we chat on Skype tonight, but I'd better text you my contact information on Skype now." "Don't forget your cell phone number Andrew, and ask Coach Palmer for mine," Ryan reminded him. "Thanks man," Andrew said gratefully, pleased that he and Ryan could keep in touch. "You know, it might be hard for you to confirm you got the text while you're on the phone with me," he suddenly realized. "Do you have a notepad you can write on instead?" "Good idea man; yeah I do," Ryan replied. After a few seconds, he said, "Go ahead Big Guy, I'm ready." Andrew quickly gave him all the required information and then Ryan returned the favour, once Andrew pulled out his cell phone. "I've got all your contact information Ryan," Andrew said. "I'll text you when I get back to my hotel and then we can meet face-to-face on Skype." "I look forward to it Andrew," Ryan said sincerely. "Get Coach Palmer back on the phone. I want to thank him for arranging this cell phone call with you this evening." "That's a good idea Ryan," Andrew said, signalling Coach Palmer to come closer. Once Coach Palmer stepped up beside him, Andrew added, "It was great talking to you man; I'll see you on Skype later tonight." "Goodbye Andrew," Ryan said, before Andrew handed Coach Palmer's cell phone back to him. Andrew waited patiently while Ryan filled Coach Palmer in on all that he had discussed with Andrew. Once the call was over, Coach Palmer turned to Andrew and said, "Very good Andrew: now you have another Unofficial Recruiting Visit lined up for this summer, hosted by one of my best players no less! Ryan thinks a lot of you and he'll be very happy to host a big man like you on campus!" "Yeah, and I'll enjoy being hosted by the Big Man on Campus," Andrew said with a big grin. "Very funny Andrew, making a play on my words like that!" Coach Palmer chuckled. "Hey, I don't just have brawn, I actually have brains as well!" Andrew reminded him with a cocky smirk. "I know that now Andrew," Coach Palmer assured him with an indulgent smile. "But since we're standing on the football field, how about you show me just how skilled you are at using your brawn. I can see that you're already prepared, since you're holding your football." He noticed Andrew's cocky smirk morph into a confident grin and added, "I'll use my digital camera to capture your performance on the field and then I can send that video to Ryan's college coach." Andrew nodded in agreement and slowly took off his football jacket. "Would you mind putting my jacket on the fence behind you Coach? I don't want it to get dirty." "You just want to leave the back of your Varsity Jacket free for a Provincial Championship patch, don't you?" Coach Palmer realized with a big grin. When Andrew nodded, he added, "Then you'd better take off your t-shirt as well, then you won't get it dirty either." Andrew grinned with excitement at the prospect of showing off his huge muscles and slowly began to peel off his skin-tight t-shirt, disguising the effort to make it look like a show for the coach. Coach Palmer's eyes widened in astonishment and more than a little fear at Andrew's massive shoulders, huge pecs, enormous biceps and eight-pack abs. "Uhhh... that's great Andrew, now jog across the field to the other end zone so that I can throw you the ball," Coach Palmer stammered. "You can catch a hundred yard pass, can't you?" "If you can throw the ball that far Coach," Andrew teased him. "I certainly can Andrew; I just hope you can run that far," Palmer said, taking the Miami Football out of Andrew's hands. "Move it Mister: that's an order!" "Yes Sir!" Andrew shouted eagerly, running down the field with huge strong strides. Coach Palmer cocked his arm back, marshalled all his strength and threw the football as high and as far as he could. He followed the flight of the ball as it arced through the air and had to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun in the west. He finally saw Andrew catch the football at the opposite end zone and he realized at that moment that none of the videos he had seen of Andrew's performance on the football field had been exaggerated. ================================================================================================================================================= Meanwhile, in a hotel room in Harrisonburg, Virginia, off Interstate 81, a strikingly handsome jock with jet black hair and piercing green eyes stood up from the couch by the window and grinned. Perfect, Ryan Maloney thought to himself. I'll be able to learn from my new friend Andrew Pearson how to get really huge and strong. With any luck, he'll pick my school over Ohio State and then we can be right beside each other on the Offensive Line. Ryan frowned as he suddenly realized something. Once I get big enough that the coach lets me play, of course. But then he grinned again when he realized that he had found the perfect reason to give Andrew for why he wanted to get bigger and stronger. He'll never know that I just want to get big enough that my little dweeb brother can never get close to beating me in anything ever again! "Who were you talking to out here Ryan?" Luke asked, stepping out of the washroom after his shower. "One of my brother's friends man," Ryan replied, turning to face his smaller friend with a smug grin on his face. "Is he a dorky band geek like your brother?" Luke asked with a sneer. "No man, in fact he's big enough to make you look like a runt," Ryan replied with a slight glare. He maximized the YouTube Video he had been watching of Andrew before Coach Palmer had texted him. "See for yourself man; keep an eye on number 3: Andrew Pearson," he said, as he sat back down on the couch. Luke and Ryan watched the highlight video of the 2004 Provincial Championship game between Andrew's team, the ODCVI Blues from Orillia, and the Eastview Wildcats from Barrie. "Wow man!" Luke shouted in astonishment once the video had ended. "You've got to convince your coach at Tech to get Andrew down there for an Unofficial Recruiting Visit this summer." "Already done man, after Tyler told me all about him," Ryan said with a cocky smirk. "And guess who gets to host him for his visit!" "You mean, you're going to be the host?" Luke asked him in surprise. "Of course man, who else?" Ryan scoffed. "Who better to host an incoming freshman than a current freshman?" He left out the part where his Tech coach had reminded him that all Redshirt Freshmen had to act as student hosts for incoming freshman prospects. "Once I showed this video to Coach, he told me to call my high school coach and set up a phone call with Andrew. And thanks to Coach Palmer calling Coach Graves, who called my dad, JP ended up bringing Andrew over to Central High School this evening. Once he got Andrew alone, Coach Palmer texted me and I called him and got to speak to Andrew. He's a really great football player, as you could see from the highlight videos." "Hey maybe you and Andrew can become teammates on the Offensive Line next fall and win a college football championship," Luke suggested. "Yeah, and maybe Andrew can show me how to get as huge and ripped as he is!" Ryan shouted in excitement, flexing his massive biceps. "Then I can leave that little dweeb brother of mine in the dust once and for all!" "That would be awesome man!" Luke shouted in excitement. "Then when you go home for Christmas you can give that brother of yours the worst present he's ever had!" "Yeah, the present of my awesome presence!" Ryan shouted, proving that Andrew wasn't the only smart guy in the state. "How will you convince Andrew to help you get bigger without revealing the real reason?" Luke suddenly asked. "Easy, I'll just tell him the truth: my coach at Tech won't let me play until I'm a lot bigger and stronger," Ryan said smugly. "Andrew will never realize that I just want to get huge to dominate my little brother so completely that he'll shrivel up and rot just like a little raisin!" "Sounds like you've got it all figured out," Luke realized. "So, enough talk; you want to head out and see what kind of summer parties JMU has to offer?" "Sure man, and maybe I can find a hot chick who wants a piece of me," Ryan sneered with a suggestive smirk. "I'll keep my cell on vibrate so that when Andrew texts me, I can get back here and see him on Skype." "You want me to come back with you?" Luke asked, as they headed out the door. "Naw man, I want to see him alone," Ryan replied. "If he sees two of us, he might think something's up when I ask him if he'll help me get bigger like him." Luke nodded in agreement as they headed down the hall. Ryan breathed a silent sigh of relief, relieved that Luke hadn't figured out the true reason that Ryan wanted to speak to Andrew alone: so that no one could horn in on the new friendship that he was hoping to form with JP's new mentor. ================================================================================================================================================= Andrew had been showing off his football skills for ten minutes, so neither he nor Coach Palmer noticed JP coming out of the high school gym. Andrew threw his football from the far end of the field to Coach Palmer, but he threw it too far and it hit JP in the chest before he could catch it. "Are you okay JP?" Palmer asked as JP fell onto his back. But then he grinned as JP rolled through the fall and back to his feet. "I guess you are okay," he realized, noticing the cocky smirk on JP's face. "Sure I am Coach; it will take a lot more than a 120 yard pass to hurt me," JP assured him; relieved that his high pain tolerance had allowed him to withstand the impact of the football. "That's the furthest I've ever seen anyone throw a football though; even Clark Kent on Smallville last season restricted himself to 60 yard passes!" "Andrew outweighs Clark by at least 80 pounds of solid muscle," Palmer said, grinning at JP's huge friend as he jogged shirtless across the field towards them. His jaw dropped in astonishment as Andrew stopped in front of him and he could only stare in awe at the sweat glistening on the body of the hulking muscle god in front of him. "Uh, very good job Andrew: your football skills are very impressive," he managed to stammer out. He turned to JP, whose eyes were as wide as his own and asked, "What did you think of Andrew's performance on the field tonight?" "It was amazing Coach; I can see why you wanted to see him tonight," JP realized. He noticed the digital camera in Palmer's hands and added, "It looks like you got a lot of good footage of Andrew's football skills. Which school are you going to send it to?" Coach Palmer and Andrew looked at each other uncertainly, unsure how to answer JP's question without making him mad. "Are you going to tell him Coach, or should I?" Andrew finally asked Coach Palmer. "Tell me what?" JP snapped, guessing that there could only be one reason why they so reluctant to name the school. "It's Virginia Tech JP," Coach Palmer replied, gambling that his position as Head Football Coach would keep him safe from JP's wrath. He was right, because all JP did was narrow his eyes slightly in anger. "I'll let Andrew tell you all about it; I've got everything I need," he added, holding up his digital camera. "See you later JP and nice meeting you Andrew." With that, Coach Palmer beat a hasty retreat into the high school, leaving Andrew alone to face JP. Andrew looked over cautiously at JP, who was glaring at him with a look of fury on his face. "Go ahead JP; let me have it for talking to your brother and then I can explain how it happened," Andrew sighed. "I ought to punch you in the face for even talking to Ryan, knowing how much I hate him!" JP snapped. "Fine, do it if you think it 'll make you feel better!" Andrew snapped back. "It won't make any difference to me; I probably won't feel it anyway!" JP roared in fury and lunged at Andrew, his right fist leading the way. SMACK! JP punched Andrew in the face with all his strength. To make his smaller friend feel better, Andrew let his head snap around from the blow, even though he didn't feel a thing. Encouraged by thinking that he had actually hurt Andrew, JP kept punching Andrew in the face, making his big friend's head rock back and forth. Andrew didn't even stumble or flinch though, and eventually JP got tired. He stopped punching Andrew in the face and settled for kneeing him in the gut instead. Soon JP's hands began to ache from punching Andrew's tough jaw and his knees felt like they had impacted a concrete wall. JP ignored the pain for a couple more minutes and kept hitting Andrew in the abs until he finally tired out and he was no longer mad. "Feel better now JP?" Andrew asked, breathing a sigh of relief that JP had stopped attacking him. Hopefully he got some of the rage at his brother out of his system by attacking me! "You look tired." "Yeah I am Andrew," JP replied, smiling when he noticed Andrew rubbing his chin with one hand and his abs with the other. As he tried to catch his breath, he added, "I'm glad I was able to hurt you a bit; that means that I'll be able to wipe the floor with Ryan the next time I see him!" "Good JP, can we go now?" Andrew asked him impatiently. "Or did you want to throw my football around for a while on an actual football field?" "That would be great Andrew," JP said excitedly. "You always know what to say to make me feel better." "And apparently I know what to do as well, since letting you punch me several times calmed you down," Andrew realized with a gentle smile. "What do you mean by 'letting' me?" JP asked him in surprise. "I mean that I could have caught all your punches if I had wanted to," Andrew replied, crossing his massive arms with a smug grin. Then he noticed JP frowning, so he decided to cheer him up. "But I figured that it would make you feel better if I acted as your human punching bag. Anytime you want to let out your frustrations by doing it again, just let me know man. Or don't; it won't matter to me because I barely felt anything anyway." "Thanks a lot Andrew; now you've made me feel worse!" JP snapped at him. "Sorry about that man, but you punched me, not the other way around," Andrew reminded him with a cocky grin. "But you don't hear me complaining about it!" "That's because you just admitted that I barely hurt you!" JP snapped in fury. "That's because I'm almost twice your size JP," Andrew reminded him. When JP glared at him, Andrew sighed and added, "But if it makes you feel any better, you did hurt me a little bit." "Not enough Andrew!" JP yelled in fury. "How am I supposed to take Ryan down if I can't even make you wince when I punch you?" "I outweigh Ryan by almost a hundred pounds," Andrew reminded him, having to clench his fists to keep from snapping back at JP. JP grinned: suddenly feeling better and Andrew grinned back at him. "Now can I tell you how I ended up talking with Ryan over the phone?" "Yes Andrew," JP replied, suddenly realizing how lucky he was that he hadn't made his huge friend mad. Andrew told him the whole story and concluded by telling JP that he would show Ryan just how big he was on Skype later that night. Then he and JP finally got to throw the football around on the field for about an hour. Andrew showed JP some of the football drills he went through as an Offensive Lineman at ODCVI. JP smiled to himself, really happy that Andrew was playing football with him: something Ryan had never done. Once they were done, it was 10 pm and getting dark. The lights around the field came on and Andrew had an idea. He stood under the uprights near his car and said, "So this is what the Friday Night Lights look like." "It's Tuesday night Andrew," JP teased him with a smirk. "Funny man JP; it was a figure of speech and you know it!" Andrew laughed. "Speaking of figures, you certainly make an imposing one with the lights behind you," JP suddenly realized, a trace of fear showing up on his face. "Then take a picture of me with my game face on," Andrew ordered him, getting down into his three point stance with one hand holding his football. Andrew glared up at the camera as if he was about to take down his opponent and JP quickly took the picture, feeling very afraid of his huge friend at that moment. "Okay Andrew, how about we try one with you smiling?" JP suggested, trying unsuccessfully to keep the fear out of his voice. "Sorry about that JP; I didn't mean to scare you," Andrew apologized. He grinned up at JP, who took another picture, and then stood up to his full height of six feet and seven inches. "There now JP: we've played football, taken some pictures, met your wrestling coach and you've used me as a human punching bag. Are you ready to go home now?" "Yeah Andrew, and I'm really excited about tomorrow's recruiting visit to Ohio State," JP said with a big grin on his face. "The Ohio State JP," Andrew teased him, finally putting his t-shirt back on. He noticed JP mock-glaring at him and laughed. "Don't look at me like that man; you're the one who corrected me about that earlier today!" "You're right Andrew," JP realized, as they headed to Andrew's truck with their Varsity Jackets slung over their shoulders. As they reached Andrew's truck, he asked, "So what are you going to do when you get back to your hotel with Carrie and Mike?" "I'm going to call Ryan on-" Andrew began, before having to catch JP's fist in mid-punch. "Don't try that again JP: you've hit me enough for one night," Andrew growled in fury. He gave JP's fist a slight squeeze until JP winced in pain. "Do you get the point now man? I can catch your punches anytime I want to!" "Yes Andrew, I've got it!" JP gasped in pain. "Can you let me go now?" "Sure man; I've made my point," Andrew replied, releasing his iron grip on JP's fist. JP massaged his sore hand and Andrew said, "Why do you insist on asking questions that you don't want to hear the answer to?" "I don't know Andrew," JP replied, as they got into Andrew's truck. "I guess I'm just too curious for my own good." "Yeah, you seem to have forgotten that cautionary tale about the cat who was too curious," Andrew realized. "Don't even joke about that Andrew!" JP begged him. Andrew looked over and a look of concern came over his face when he saw how scared JP looked. "Aroused, your great physical strength could kill! And I only felt a tiny sample of it when you squeezed my fist!" "I'm sorry about that man, but you made me mad for a moment there," Andrew informed him. "I was in a really bad mood all last fall and the results weren't pretty." "Why was that Andrew?" JP asked, as Andrew started driving them back to JP's house. "My grandpa had a stroke last fall, just after I graduated Basic Reserves Training," Andrew replied. "I was really worried about him during football season, since he was confined to a wheelchair and could barely speak. Fortunately, my parents were able to bring him to every game, but then my nemesis David Harrington insulted him and I just lost it and punched him in the face, giving him a bloody nose. The next punch knocked him out. If Steve, Darrel and Mike hadn't pulled me away, I would have killed him with my bare hands!" JP just stared at Andrew in speechless terror as his big friend's face turned red with fury and his hands turned white on the steering wheel. Andrew looked over at JP, still furious from the bad memories, and saw the look of terror on his face. He started taking a few deep breaths to calm down and was relieved to see the normal look of confidence return to JP's face. JP wisely decided to wait until Andrew had calmed down completely before he asked, "What happened next Andrew?" "Coach Everson suspended me for two games and my parents chewed me out hard when we got back home," Andrew remembered, looking embarrassed. "I actually stayed in a hotel that weekend, not wanting to deal with anyone. Then when I got home from school on Monday evening, my dad informed me that my Grandpa (his dad, not my mom's) had suffered another massive stroke and was now confined to a hospital bed. I could see in his eyes that my dad blamed me for that, since Grandpa Pearson had attended the game where I took David out for insulting him. I felt really bad and I visited Grandpa every weekend after that, now that I had seen the damage my bad temper had caused." "It wasn't your fault Andrew," JP tried to assure his big friend. "It was probably just a coincidence that your grandpa had another stroke around the same time that you were punching David." "That's not true JP; he had the stroke at the game right after I attacked David!" Andrew shouted in frustration. "My rage stressed him out so badly that it caused his second stroke and put him in that hospital bed!" JP just stared at his big friend in sympathy, not having a clue what to say when he realized what an incredible burden of guilt Andrew had been carrying around for almost a year. Andrew sighed as a tear ran down his cheek and he and JP just drove in silence for a few minutes while he tried to compose himself. "What happened next Andrew?" JP asked his huge friend gently. "Coach Everson let me play in the Semi-Final and then the Provincial Championship Game," Andrew replied. "Unfortunately, the O-Line had learned some new plays under the back-up Center that I wasn't familiar with and we lost the Provincial Championship Game in the last second due to a missed field goal because David deflected it. I managed to control my temper about that but I broke down in my grandpa's hospital room as I told him a day later. He couldn't say a word, but he did reach over with his one good arm to grab my hand. I promised him that I would win the next Provincial Championship for him and he smiled. Then he fell asleep and I went home. We got the news the next morning that he had passed away during the night." "So you were the last person to see him and he went to heaven happy," JP guessed. "Yeah man," Andrew said with a gentle smile. "And now you know everything about last season and why I'm not really a cocky jock anymore." JP nodded in understanding. "You're the only one who knows everything I've told you, besides Carrie of course, and I want it to stay that way." JP nodded in understanding, realizing how much Andrew thought of him that he would reveal his innermost secrets. "Do you have anything else to tell me Andrew, or is that it?" JP asked. "That's it JP," Andrew replied, glancing over at his friend with a gentle smile. "I think we're even now, since you told me everything about you and Ryan earlier this evening." JP tried to keep the anger he felt at hearing the name of his big brother from showing on his face, because he remembered how easily Andrew had shut down his attempt to punch him earlier. I'd better be on my best behavior with Andrew; he could crush me with one hand tied behind his back! JP realized in sudden fear. Then he thought of something that made him smile. "Getting excited about the trip to the Ohio State tomorrow JP?" Andrew asked him. "Yeah Andrew," JP replied, not letting his huge friend know that he was actually thinking of how scared Ryan would be when he saw how big Andrew was. "I'm really grateful that you're taking me to see the school I hope to wrestle at in my college years." "No problem JP; Mark did it for me, so I'm returning the favour in a deflected manner," Andrew informed him. When JP looked at him with confusion, Andrew explained that his first protégé Mark Stevenson had invited Andrew along on his Official Recruiting Visits during the previous football season. "So in a way, Ohio State is already aware of me, because I went there with Mark on his Official Recruiting Visit almost one year ago," Andrew explained to JP. "Did you mentor him just so you could get early exposure to the NCAA?" JP teased him. Andrew glared over at him in mock fury, but a slight grin betrayed his true feelings. "Just joking Big Guy." "Hey, I told you before, you call me 'Huge Guy' JP!" Andrew roared, unable to keep a cocky grin from appearing on his face. JP laughed and the two of them continued joking around until they got back to JP's house. Once they got to JP's house, they parked in the driveway and Andrew turned to JP. "Thanks a lot for listening to everything I told you about last season without judgement JP," Andrew said gratefully. "You're a great friend." "Thanks Andrew; you are too," JP said, as his parents came out of the house. As he and Andrew got out of Andrew's truck, he said, "Coach Graves got in touch with all the wrestling coaches at each school we're going to, so I'll be having my own early Unofficial Recruiting Visits while you have yours." "Good job man; taking a page out of my book I see," Andrew said with a smug grin. He turned to his friends, who had come out of the house after JP's parents and asked them, "Did you guys have lots of fun with Matt and JP's parents while we were gone?" "Yeah man," Mike replied. "JP's parents were bragging about him while he was gone, showing us his wrestling photos, newspaper articles, trophies and his District Finalist Medal from last season." "I hope we can see a State Championship Medal from you next season JP," Mr. Maloney said with a frown. "You will Dad," JP assured him, trying to make his determination show on his face. "But in the meantime, I will have to show off my District Finalist Medal to the Ohio State Wrestling Coaches tomorrow." "Yeah, when I called Coach Graves and told him which schools Andrew was taking you to, he said that he would get in touch with the wrestling coaches at those schools," Mr. Maloney said proudly. "Yeah he showed me all the emails from them, in which they expressed their hope that I would talk to them while I'm on campus this week," JP said with a cocky smirk. "So I told Coach to say 'Yes, he'll be glad to meet you there' and he added my cell phone number to the email replies. Then the coaches can text me with the details." "And all this wouldn't have happened if Andrew hadn't offered to take you with him on his recruiting visits," Mrs. Maloney said, reaching up to put a hand on Andrew's massive shoulder. Andrew looked very embarrassed as JP's parents ushered Andrew inside to talk to him some more. "Where's your mom Matt?" JP asked, finally noticing that she was missing from the group. "She already went home, after leaving a packed suitcase here for me," Matt replied. "What did you and Andrew do at the high school?" JP ushered him into the house so that they could talk, leaving Mike and Carrie standing outside on the front walk. "Do you feel that we've been forgotten by Andrew over the last couple of days?" Mike asked Carrie. "No more than the past three years when Andrew spent a lot of time mentoring his current teammates," Carrie reminded him. "He didn't have to mentor you of course; your big brother Matt did a lot of that, as well as training Andrew for football before high school." "Yeah, Matt's mentoring of me and Andrew got us ready for high school football so that we played on the Varsity Team even during our Freshman Year," Mike remembered. "Of course, Coach Everson had Andrew be the back-up to Carl, the Centre, that year. Then Carl left for Miami and Andrew took over at Centre in Grade Ten." "Good thing too, because the college recruiting started just last year: Andrew's second season as Centre," Carrie reminded him. Mike grinned and nodded, and Carrie added, "I'm a little surprised that no college coaches have recruited me for Girl's Hockey yet." "Ask to meet the Girl's Hockey coaches at each school we visit and you'll find lots of recruiters visiting you this fall," Mike predicted. Carrie grinned at Mike: pleased that for all his big muscles, he hadn't lost any of the intelligence that had let him tutor Andrew and Phil in exchange for weight training years ago. Carrie and Mike chatted outside for a few more minutes and then went into the Maloney house, where they found almost everyone talking in the living room. As Carrie looked around, she noticed that Andrew and JP were not there. "Where are Andrew and JP?" she asked Mr. Maloney. "JP took Andrew up to his room to show off all his wrestling newspaper stories and trophies," Paul replied proudly. Carrie nodded in understanding: pleased that Andrew had found another protégé after not having one the previous year. Up in his bedroom, JP was proudly showing Andrew all the newspaper clippings and trophies from his high school wrestling career. "This is very impressive JP; you have really achieved great athletic success in only two years," Andrew congratulated him. "And you're a District Finalist as well." "Probably nothing compared to what you've achieved Andrew; you actually won the District Title." "Yeah, but this coming wrestling season, you'll win the State Title JP," Andrew predicted with an encouraging smile. JP smiled as Andrew had once again made him feel better. "What did you want to do now Andrew?" "Help you pack for the college road trip that starts next week, but perhaps I should see Ryan's room first." "What for Andrew?" JP asked with an angry look on his face. "I want an objective view of the kind of guy he is," Andrew replied. "A look in his room is the best glance I will get at his character since he probably decorated it himself." "Fine, let's get it over with so that we can plan our trip," JP agreed reluctantly. He led Andrew to Ryan's room and opened the door, revealing all the posters of scantily-clad women all over the walls. "Well, that certainly reveals Ryan's true character with one look," Andrew realized. "On my walls at home, I have football players banging heads on the field." "So now you see how different you and Ryan are, which explains why I think of you as my big brother instead of him," JP explained, closing Ryan's door again. Andrew nodded and followed JP back to his room to help him pack for the road trip. About an hour later, Andrew and his two friends said goodbye to JP and his family and headed back to their hotel. Once there, Andrew told Carrie that he wanted to talk to JP's brother on Skype. "Okay Andrew, I'll just go have a shower before bed," Carrie said. "Have fun talking to your new friend." Andrew had told her all about his talk with Ryan earlier that evening. "I will Carrie, and I'm going to wear my ODCVI football t-shirt so that he can see just how big and strong I am," Andrew said with a smirk. "Fine, have fun playing 'Who's the Alpha' with Ryan," Carrie laughed. "See you later Big Man," "That's 'Huge Man' to you 'Little Girl'," Andrew teased her with a mock glare. Carrie laughed and headed into the bathroom to have her shower. Andrew pulled out his Motorola Razor and texted Ryan. Then he activated Skype and waited. ================================================================================================================================================= Meanwhile, at a club in Harrisonburg, Virginia, Ryan's cell phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket with a frown. "Sorry babe, I've been expecting this text," he apologized to the hot girl he was in the middle of kissing. He read the text and grinned when he realized that Andrew was ready to start their Skype Chat. "I'm going to talk to my new friend, and he'll show me how to get even bigger and stronger for you next time," he promised her emptily. Ryan stepped back and quickly found Luke so that he could tell him where he was going. Then he headed out of the club, after promising to pick Luke up later, and drove back to their hotel to talk to Andrew. Perfect, Ryan thought to himself as he drove. Andrew will teach me how to become really big and strong so that I can give the girls more pleasure than they've ever dreamed of! And I'll be big enough to smash that dweeb brother of mine into pieces, as well as all opposing players in the games this season! Ryan was still grinning about his foolproof strategy to get Andrew's help when he pulled into the hotel parking lot. He stepped out of his car, put on his best arrogant jock face, and sauntered into the lobby, grinning like a cat at all the pretty girls he passed by. But this time, he didn't talk to any of them, he was too eager to see his new friend Andrew face-to-face. Once he got up to his hotel room, he went inside, opened up his laptop and activated Skype. As the image on the screen resolved into focus, Ryan's jaw dropped as he saw what was on the screen. ================================================================================================================================================ Andrew smirked as he saw the look of shock on the face of the black-haired, green-eyed jock on his laptop screen. "Ryan Maloney?" Andrew asked, just to make sure he was talking to the right person. The big guy on the screen nodded silently; still too shocked to speak. "I'm JP's new friend Andrew Pearson." He waited for almost a minute before Ryan got up his nerve to finally say something. "How are you man?" "Oh just fine; I had lots of fun on the Central High football field showing off my football skills for Coach Palmer," Andrew said with a cocky smirk. Part of him realized he probably shouldn't act so cocky, but then he realized that he had finally found someone who would approve of him acting like an arrogant jock. "I threw a pass that went the entire length of the field and knocked JP off his feet when he tried to catch it!" Ryan's look of shock intensified and then a fleeting look of concern appeared on his face. It was quickly erased by an arrogant smirk, however. "Did that little dweeb run home and cry to Mommy about it?" he sneered. "Be careful Ryan; that's my new protégé you're talking about," Andrew warned him, his protective instincts flaring up. "And he told me how he was once yours." "Yeah he was," Ryan said, remembering his last workout with JP less than fondly. "Sorry about that Andrew; my brother and I just don't get along anymore." "Did you want to talk about it Ryan?" Andrew asked. "It won't go any further than the two of us, since my girlfriend isn't in here with me." "Okay Andrew, and then we can talk about more exciting things: like your upcoming recruiting visit to Virginia Tech," Ryan agreed. "And I will email you the video that Coach Palmer emailed me of my exploits on the Central High School football field," Andrew offered. "Then you can forward it to your football coach at Tech." "Good thinking Andrew," Ryan agreed. He began telling Andrew about how his little brother JP had followed him around everywhere all his life and then started bugging him about working out when he got to high school. So Ryan began teaching him how to work out, but he never imagined JP would take to it so well and get close to surpassing him. So Ryan gradually removed himself from his brother's workouts, especially after the events of three months before, and their relationship was practically non-existent since then. "That sounds rough man," Andrew said sympathetically, realizing that JP felt the same way. "I went through something similar with one of my good friends about seven years ago." "Tell me about it Andrew; I can listen while I watch the video you sent me," Ryan said, opening up the email attachment. So Andrew told Ryan all about his failed friendship with Steve, basically repeating word-for-word the same things he had told JP the night before. Like JP before him, Ryan was amazed at how similar his experiences were to Andrew's. "So what do you think Ryan?" Andrew asked, once he had finished telling Ryan everything. "That's an amazing story Andrew, and I can see that we have a lot more in common than just being great football players," Ryan replied sincerely. All thoughts of acting like an arrogant jock in front of Andrew were gone, and he felt that he could finally be himself with his new friend, which was a great relief for him. "Your video is amazing as well, and my coach at Tech will be really excited to see it." "More excited than you are Ryan?" Andrew teased him, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah man," Ryan replied with a big grin. "But I'm excited to meet you in person as well, and I'll talk to Coach and get an Unofficial Recruiting Visit set up for you at Tech later this summer." "Thanks man," Andrew said gratefully, sensing that their conversation was wrapping up. "Well, I look forward to it, but right now, I'm going to have a shower and go to bed. Do you want me to say hi to JP for you when I see him again tomorrow morning?" "No Andrew, I will when I see him again," Ryan replied seriously. "And do me a favour." "What's that Ryan?" Andrew asked him. "Don't talk about my brother anymore with me unless I ask you about him," Ryan said. "No problem Ryan," Andrew agreed. "Text me later if you want to have another Skype chat." "I will man; just email me your travel plans so I know where you'll be tomorrow night," Ryan said. "Sure thing man; talk to you later," Andrew said, preparing to sign off. "See you Andrew," Ryan said, just before he ended the conversation. Andrew sat back in his desk chair and stared at the blank screen for a moment: thinking hard. Hopefully one day I'll be there when Ryan and JP have fixed their relationship and then I won't have to choose which one to be friends with, he thought to himself. Then he heard Carrie calling him from the bathroom. "Andrew, I'm ready to have another shower: this time with you!" Andrew grinned, stood up, and headed into the bathroom, looking forward to having lots of fun with his girlfriend before they went to bed. * FINALLY FINISHED * COMING SOON: - The Road Trip to Ohio State - The Ohio State Recruiting Visit itself - JP gets a head start on his own college recruiting process thanks to Andrew My website page for this chapter: http://seanspictures.webs.com has a picture from Google of what I imagine Ryan would look like. Just click on the link for Chapter 5 and go halfway down to see it.
  6. hotmuscle101

    Blue Pill Part 20

    Sorry for the wait, in case you need a refresher here is Blue Pill Part 19 And without further ado I give to you Blue Pill Part 20 Although she had just fed, Sarah was hungrier than she had ever been before. The smell that hit her as soon as she opened the door to the gym was intoxicating, like pure male essence. It was the aroma of sweat and testosterone that caused her newly formed dick to harden down the leg of her short running shorts. The head of her dick just barely held within the confines of her shorts. She began to sniff the air, walking down the hallway, following the smell to where it was the strongest. This led Sarah to a heavy steel door, which she quickly pushed open to reveal an even more intense cloud of the stench that led here there from the hallway. It was so thick it was almost as if you could swim in it. Sarah felt something wet drip onto her foot and as she looked down to inspect where it came from, she saw another drop forming at the edge of her boxers. The smell had her so turned on that she was hornier than she ever remembered being before. Sarah was surprised to find the locker room was practically empty, minus the few gym bags sitting outside of their lockers. She walked up to one of the gym bags that was setting open atop the bench. She looked in and found a used jock sitting on top. Sarah reached into the gym bag and pulled out the jock. It was still warm and sweaty from the previous wearer, as if it had just been discarded. She brought the jock up to her nose, smelling the amazing aroma of sweat and testosterone with a hint of cum. Sarah stuck the jock in her mouth sucking on the sweat and cum. As she was sucking she felt a surge of strength run through her body and felt her dick pulse in her running shorts. She looked down to see that the head of her dick was now just barely peeking out of the edge of her shorts. As she was looking down at her dick, she noticed that her entire body looked pumped. She ran her hand along the shaft of her penis, earning her a glob of pre-cum once she reached the head. Hormones were racing through her brain telling her she needed to get off and soon. Sarah heard the sound of a shower turning on through the doorway at the end of the row of lockers. She headed towards the doorway with a hunger in her eyes and a raging hardon in her shorts. " Time to feed" she growled to herself... When Riley had first arrived to the gym, his gut was full and swollen with Derek's cum. He knew he needed to do something to get the size of his beach ball belly to go down and after reading the note that was left for Derek about how it would be beneficial for him to work out, he decided the best place for that would be Frank's Gym. It was always filled with meatheads and hardcore weights. Riley was in his jock and a pair of sweats he had found in the school locker room and He was wearing a t-shirt that said 'Fletcher Valley Athletic Department'. It was a little loose on him, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be that way for long. He looked out across the gym floor and found a handful of guys lifting. They ranged in size from amateur bodybuilder to Olympia sized. The biggest being Damien, he was easily a 300-pound wall of shredded beef, ready to dominate his next bodybuilding competition. He was a 6-foot-tall wall of dark chocolate and he was walking straight towards Riley. Riley began to panic. He wondered if the behemoth had seen him staring or if he was just overthinking. Jason's heart began racing faster and faster as each titanic footfall of the giant caused his meaty pecs to bounce. His massive Quads rolling over each other as they fought for space inside the weak confines of his gym shorts. Riley couldn't believe his eyes when they finally fell upon the obscene bulge in Damien's shorts. He had seen some decent sized packages in the school locker room. Chris's came to mind right away, but what was in front of him now had to be as big as Chris's cock was when it was hard, and it was completely soft. As Damien got right up next to me he leaned down to say something in my ear. His deep baritone filled my soul, as I had a hard time registering what he was saying. "Yeah, I saw you lookin. You're gonna need about another 100 pounds before you can handle what I got to give. Come find me when you do though, I'd love to fill your bowl with my cream." He stood back up to his full height and I watched his face as a huge toothy grin formed on his face as he gave me a wink. He reached down to adjust his package which Jason swore was bigger than just a moment ago. As Damien walked past Riley, He turned to watch Damien as he stared directly at Riley's ass. He seductively licked his lips as he headed into the gym locker room. To say that Riley felt on fire would be an understatement, he felt like hormones were flooding his entire being. Not only that, but his cock was rock hard. He knew he needed to focus. If what the note said was true, he needed to start lifting so he could absorb all the muscle cum that was in his belly. Riley decided to start with arms, so he headed over to a long row of dumbbells in front of a large gym mirror. He grabbed the 25's to start as a warm up and headed over to the isolation bench. As he was walking over to the bench Riley watched his arms in the mirror as the sinewy muscle lightly flexed to support the weight in his hands. He flexed his arm straight down causing a slight bulge to appear on the back of his arm from his triceps. Riley sat at the isolation bench and began doing curls. At first the weight was a little heavy, but began to get easier to lift as he did more reps. Once he had 25 reps done he switched to his other arm and began lifting again. Riley watched as veins began to surface on his arm and his goose egg of a bicep began expanding, just a little bit more with each rep. With his biceps now feeling warmed up, he brought the weight behind his head and began one armed triceps-extensions. He really had to push at the beginning to get the weight up, but as he continued it got easier and easier with each rep. Riley did 25 with each arm and stood up to take the weights back. This time as he passed himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but gawk at his reflection. His arms were pumped just from his warm-up. Riley started the work out with 15-inch arms, but they were looking much closer to the 15-inch range and this time when he flexed his arm straight down, he was rewarded with an actual horse-shoe bulge on the back of his arm. The boner that had started to go down during his lifts sprang back to life as he admired his pump in the mirror. "Fuck yeah! I'm getting pumped" Riley growled to himself in the mirror. "So fucking hot!" Riley put the weights back and walked further down the row of weights, this time picking up the 50's. Riley had never done anything heavier for isolation curls than 35. He could feel the heaviness of the weight in his hands as he headed back to the bench. Riley sat down and began pumping out rep after rep. As the weight got lighter with each rep, his arm began to bulge with some serious muscle. Veins that had appeared during his warm-up were now thickening and branching out all across his swollen bicep. The hard knot on his arm was now about the size of a baseball. Riley then continued the same process with his other arm. During this entire process Riley's raging hard on had begun leaking copious amounts of pre-cum into his jock. Knowing that he was going to have some difficulty doing single arm triceps extensions with 50 pounds, He decided to do just a regular triceps extension using both arms and the 50-pound dumbbell. It was a struggle at first, but just like with his biceps it got easier with every rep he did. Riley lost track of how many extensions he did until he realized that the weight he was using felt as light as the 25 pounders. Riley stood up to take the weight back. This time what he saw in the mirror was a complete and total surprise, the arms that he now possessed were at least 16 inches and wrapped in veins. He couldn't believe how big he was getting. The thought caused his cock to flex in his sweats, which brought his attention to a wet spot that had begun to form where the head of his dick was. Riley reached down and ran his hand along his shaft, as he flexed his cock in his hand. He continued flexing his cock in his hand, as he brought his other arm up into a flex as well. This caused his cock to react by surging in his hand, the head of his cock was now poking out of his jock and shot a wad of precum on the inside of his sweat pants. More turned on then he ever remembered being in his life, Riley headed over to the bench press and loaded the bar with weight for a warm-up. He laid under the bar and brought the weight down to graze his nipples. He then pushed the weight back up. Riley cranked out rep after rep as he began to get a pump from his warm up. Riley began losing sight of his erect nipples as his pecs began inflating with blood. Riley decided it was time to put some serious weight on the bar. He got up and loaded the bar with 300 pounds and got back under the bar. The most Riley had ever benched before this was 150 and that was a struggle. Riley felt confident this time as he lifted the bar, he slowly brought the bar down, feeling the muscle fibers in his pecs stretch and scream in pain as they were forced to lift twice as much as they ever had before. The weight finally reached his pecs and he pushed with all his might to get the weight back up. Once it was back at the top, he brought the weight back down, this time not as much resistance from his pecs. Every time Riley brought the weight down he didn't have to go as far as his pecs swelled thicker with each rep. After what felt like an eternity, Riley finally re-racked the weight and sat up on the bench. Right away Riley could tell a huge difference in his pecs, the weight of his bulbous man breasts pulled heavily on the fabric of his shirt. Riley stood to look at himself in the mirror. "OH SHIT" Riley couldn't believe how big his pecs had become. "I might have done too many bench presses." Riley realized, too late of course, that his pecs were out of proportion with the rest of his body. They almost looked like breasts if it weren't for his slight pouch of a belly he had left. Riley ran his hand up along the curve of his bulbous pec muscle and moaned out loud on the gym floor as his hand rubbed across his pert nipple. A couple of the muscle heads turned to catch a glimpse of Riley and his increasing wet spot in his sweat pants. Realizing that he needed to balance out his body, Riley headed over to the squat rack last. One of the big meat heads must have been using it last, because they didn't take their weights off the bar. The bar was loaded with 500 pounds. Riley was feeling stronger than he ever felt and his rock-hard cock told him that he could lift that fucking weight. Riley braced himself underneath the bar and went to lift the weight up when the big muscle head that had been lifting there headed over to stop Riley. "Hey bro, that weight is way too heavy for your chicken legs, how about we start you off with something a little lighter?" "I'm going to crush this weight!" Riley growled with a fire in his eyes. "Well then, I'm at least going to spot you, I would hate for you to crush yourself under my watch. Names Ben by the way, I'm the manager of Frank's gym." "Enough talk Ben, let's lift some fucking weight." Riley lifted the bar up before Ben was positioned behind him. Riley could feel Ben's hard biceps against the back of his newly minted triceps. The breath on the back of his neck made him even hornier if that was even possible. "FUUUUCCCCKKKKK" Riley moaned/yelled as he squatted down with the weight, he could feel Ben's crotch against his ass as he pushed back in the bottom of the lift, then Riley began pushing the unbelievably heavy weight back up. At the top of the lift, Riley could feel Ben's biceps tense against his triceps as he was trying to get Riley to re-rack the weight. "Great job man, I..." "Did I say I was done yet?!?" As Riley squatted down again, with Ben following him down. The legs of Riley's sweatpants were becoming increasingly tight around his ever-enlarging thighs and he could feel his ass pushing back more into Ben's crotch. Riley flexed his ass at the bottom of the squat. This elicited a moan out of his spotter as he could feel Ben's dick hardening against his rock-hard ass cheeks. Once at the top of the lift, Riley started another squat. Riley could feel the power in his legs increasing as they blew up in size. He could feel his sweat pants becoming too tight against his straining cock and his ballooning ass. Before he could stop himself from humiliation, he heard the ass of his sweats give out with a loud rip. He could feel cool air hit his hole as it was exposed between the straps of his jock. Ben felt the head of his cock through his gym shorts push past Riley's rock-hard ass cheeks to his exposed hole. Riley felt Ben's cockhead through his shorts as it pushed against his hole. Riley decided to hold the weight there for a little longer. Ben rubber the head of his cock against Riley's hole. Riley's legs strained to hold the weight, but they grew larger by the second during the strain, making it easier the longer he held it. "Fuck man, I can't. You have got a really hot ass and I have never had these feelings for another guy before. I'm straight man I'm sorry." Ben pulled his cock head back from Riley's ass and stepped back. Riley stood back up with the weight and re-racked it. Riley turned around to face Ben. He stood almost eye to eye with Ben. Ben had the most beautiful hazel eyes and short military cut hair. His face was chiseled and manly looking. He had to be about 260 pounds. He was a big boy. Riley looked down and realized that’s not all that was big on Ben. His arms and pecs were massive, but what really pulled Riley's attention is what was poking at his hole just moments ago. Riley reached down and wrapped his hand around it, massaging the head. Ben moaned loudly as he closed his eyes and rolled his head back. Riley leaned his body in against Ben's, "Wh..what are you doing?" Ben stuttered as Riley leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. Ben moaned into Riley's mouth as Riley felt Ben's cock swell in his hand as it anticipated releasing its load. Riley stepped away from Ben before he could cum. Ben's eyes were still closed in a moment of bliss."FUCK! That was so fucking hot! Why did you stop?" "You're straight remember." Riley replied with a devilish grin." Besides, I'm done with my workout. Thanks for the spot Ben. Hopefully we can lift together again." Riley gave Ben a wink as he headed for the lockers, holding the ass of his sweats together as best he could. "HEY, WAIT! I never got your name!" Ben shouted after Riley. "If you want my name you'll have to see me again to get it." Riley headed into the locker room and began taking off all his clothes. He admired the way he struggled to get his shirt up over his massive pecs. Riley moaned as the hem of the shirt snagged on his nipples. Riley removed the remains of his sweats to reveal a raging hard on he wasn't expecting. It was about a half inch bigger than he was used to and quite a bit thicker. "Well this isn't covering anything anymore." Riley said as he removed his jockstrap and set it on top of his gym bag. Riley couldn't believe how big he had gotten. He must weigh at least 190 now. He heard the locker room door open on the other side of his lockers. Riley thought it might be Ben, so he wanted to make Ben work for it a little bit, so he turned and quietly slipped into the sauna before he came around the lockers. "God I can't wait to make love to the beautiful man!"
  7. LJackson

    Muscle Worshippers: Chapter 4 of 14

    Chapter 3 is here. 4 Olly Monday, August 4th Today has not gone exactly as I planned. I was too busy at the weekend to write this, although now I guess I can see I was busy keeping myself busy, finding excuses not to ruminate. I realised suddenly how much my bedroom belonged to the me before I went to Uni. Perhaps it belonged to the me before Friday, too. I binned my Coldplay poster and went to Homebase for tins of paint. They made my arms ache carrying them home — I suppose I wanted to prove something to myself, and failed. I suppose I proved just how weak I am. And I had long text conversations with Sophie, trying to talk her into giving me a firm date to come up to London. Every time she put me off, I felt I knew absolutely for certain that she had found somebody new. A real man. Someone bigger than me. Someone who can carry two tins of paint back from Homebase without wincing, anyway. Someone who's not another man's bitch. I forgot to mention that on Friday, Mr B.'s only comment on the whole situation was that he didn't like to see me dressing casually. I don't know if he somehow thought I'd initiated the dirty atmosphere by showing my elbows in public, I don't know what he thinks, if anything, but because I am basically in his power, I borrowed a pale blue shirt off Anthony. I didn't think he was so much bigger than me, but he must be, because it was flapping around me. I've never felt so skinny, and my body was slick with sweat by the afternoon. All day, in the heat and silence, feeling I could still smell that girl's juices all day, smell that big guy's sweat, I began to lay real plans for what to do next. I could easily get the bus into Lewisham one afternoon, go to Argos, buy a cheap set of weights, and get to work. I could do it in my bedroom and nobody would know anything was different. It would take a few months for me to see some change, but I was feeling committed. I could get Mum to make protein rich meals, without her quite catching on to what I was doing. I didn't ask myself why I wanted to keep it all a secret. I didn't want to admit that it was about insecurity, about being a man and not a boy. I certainly didn't want to think that it was about sex. And yet the whole day, all I could see was that girl lapping at the big guy's crotch. That could be you, I thought. The guy, not the girl. Obviously. I left the library, ready to throw off that stupid outsize shirt and let the fresh air at my body. I was pretty upbeat about my plans and I was just pursing my lips to whistle when I spotted the Beast waiting for me, on the other side of the road. For a second, I thought about running away. Then I knew I had to fight. It would be like swinging a punch at a brick wall, but anything else and I'd feel like the bitch he had made me on Friday. I set my jaw, balled my fists, and crossed the road. The thing is, when he saw me, he smiled. And as much as it was hard for him to do, it wasn't a scary smile. He suddenly looked told off, like a little boy. 'Hey, bro,' he said. 'Hey,' I said, more squeakily than I intended. 'I was, uh, hoping I'd get to see you.' I didn't let myself relax, even if I could. I did a vague shrug. 'Here I am.' 'You got five minutes?' 'Well...' I didn't feel I could lie to him. And I was full of curiosity now. What did he want? 'Yeah, man, I'm cool for another hour. You want to walk in the park?' 'Cool, bro.' I was desperate to unbutton my shirt and let the cool air get to my skin, but seeing him again was a reminder of his enormous, veiny forearms, his biceps like huge sandbags of flesh, and the massive cubes of muscle that were his chest, each one dimpling his t-shirt with a grape-like nipple. I could make out massed curls of dark hair on that chest also pressing on the thin fabric of his t-shirt. Walk along beside him with my scrawny, hairless body on show? No way. We walked across the grass together. His body rippled slowly as he moved. I wonder if I could ever do the same? Of course I could, it's just a matter of will power. I have that self hidden inside just now. I'm the same as him, he just wears it on the outside. His devotion to size, to power, to strength, is obvious, but it's in me too. I feel it burning now. 'I wanted to apologise for last week,' he said. 'No, don't,' I said. He looked at me dumbly. 'Really?' I hesitated. 'Actually, I suppose you're right. I'm just being polite.' We both laughed. 'Polite is too right,' he said. 'You're too fucking polite, and I don't know what polite is, that's what Estelle said. We ought to meet midway. You ought to smack me in the face, for what I said to you, mate.' 'No,' I said. Again, he smiled. 'I can't,' I said. 'I think I recognised something — not everything — but something true in what you said on Friday.' 'You mean, like, you wanted to be my bitch?' His hand was resting lying on his crotch. I glanced at it to try and see if he had a hard-on. Did that sort of thing turn him on? That was how it seemed on Friday. I couldn't be sure, though — I could see now that he was, well, rather blessed in that department. His big cock bulged inside his jeans, his big hand lightly resting upon it as though upon a small pillow, but I couldn't see whether he had an erection or was just big down there. I realised I had been staring at him, somewhat. 'No!' I exclaimed. 'Of course not!' He smiled. 'I have met guys who... said they wanted that.' I gave a nervous laugh. For a minute, all I could say was, 'Wow.' I looked down at my body, swaddled in Anthony's shirt. 'That must be pretty weird.' 'Yeah, of course,' he said. 'But when you look like this, people feel they have a claim on you.' 'I feel sort of jealous,' I told him. 'Ah, who wouldn't be?' he said, and rolled over on his back. 'Yeah, it's nice having people stare as you walk down the street. Who wouldn't want to be a freak like that? I'd hate to be, you know, normal size.' 'You were normal size at school, though, right?' He stared up at the sky. 'I started working out when I was sixteen. I was getting pretty big when we left school. You went off to develop your mind, right? University and all of that?' 'Astrophysics.' He whistled. 'Well, this is my degree, my qualifications.' He felt his right bicep and squeezed it till it was massive. 'Oh, yes...' I ran my eyes back and forth over his body, laid out on the grass, like it was a car he'd built: the product of five years' hard work. 'Why did you decide to do it?' 'This is who I am,' he said. 'I think that's what you recognised, isn't it? Like you said. This is who you are, too, right? It's just nobody can tell because you're little on the outside.' 'It's not exactly like I should thank you,' I said. 'If you had what I had, you could pin me down and give me what you think I deserve,' he said. 'I'm not a violent person,' I said. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 'Doing this to your body — it upsets certain balances. You become more than a man, Olly. Your lusts are greater. Sometimes, the red mists come down...' 'Like Friday?' 'Perhaps I saw something in you too,' he said. 'You saw someone you wanted to humiliate,' I said. 'Yeah, but in that moment, it was fun. It was hot. It was for Polly... sort of. I knew it would get her juices flowing, and fuck me, was I right. We came right here. This patch of grass. The sun was beating down. She got my cock out and she just rode it, man. Just spat all over it and rode it till she squirted.' He grabbed his cock now in memory of that ride. I grabbed my own cock, involuntarily, but probably nobody noticed. 'Later, she told me what a cunt I'd been. I was hardly conscious of it at the time, on a chemical high. She told me I should make it up to you. I told her you'd probably prefer her to make it to you, but then, it wasn't her who did all that shit to you on Friday.' 'No,' I said. 'Anyway, I have a girlfriend.' 'Really, man?' he grinned. 'That's cool. What's she like?' 'Beautiful. Clever.' 'Is she crazy for your cock?' I looked down at my hands. 'She's never actually seen me naked. I was hoping that would happen soon, when she visits from Brighton. I'm not sure she's really so interested.' 'Dude, that's not the spirit.' I shrugged. 'I was actually thinking, if you have any tips, about — you know — lifting a few weights.' His hand was suddenly around my arm, sizing it up. His fist pretty much encircled my forearm, no problem, and it was hardly a stretch for him to size up my non-existent bicep. As he squeezed, his own muscle bulged, almost grotesquely. I could smell the sweat in the hairs on his arm. Then he was reaching through Anthony's shirt and feeling up my chest, which is flat all the way down, clumsily pinching my sweaty nipple through the cotton fabric. He felt my scrawny belly and then my thigh as if appraising a cut of meat. Then he laughed. 'Lots of work to do there,' he said. 'I don't think lifting a couple of budget weights from Argos will quite cut it.' My heart sank. I felt so disconsolate, I stopped feeling angry about the way he'd run his hands over me. Why shouldn't he treat me like that? He was obviously used to dealing with the body as simply flesh. He was the best judge I could ask for. Just a shame he'd judged me so harsh. 'Hey, why the long face, bro?' he said, laughing. 'I didn't say it was impossible. But you're going to have to take it serious. To start with, you have to join a gym.' 'I guess.' 'No, really. You need serious equipment if you wanna be...' I finished his sentence with the only word in my mind. 'Big.' 'That's really what you want?' His voice was soft. A shiver went through me, as if I was in a rocket ship during take-off. 'Yeah.' He punched my arm. 'Knew it, bro. I knew it. Hey, I think we ought to have a session right now.' He was suddenly rigid, half rising off the grass. 'You want to come?' 'Where to?' 'Uranus,' he said, and then burst out laughing when he saw my face. 'It's my gym, dickhead. It's not far fro m here, which is one plus point, and I can get you in for free as my spotter.' 'Don't I need to know stuff to do that?' 'Not today,' he said. 'It'll be good to go there with a friend. I never have before.' I followed him out of the park, back into the village. I was telling my surprise new friend about the gym in East Dulwich, the council one that I'd thought of joining. I thought it might still be too expensive for me, though, even though it was the cheapest option. I was trying to hint to him that I didn't exactly have ready funds to join a place full-time. He didn't seem to be getting the gist, though, just kept telling me stories about his first time working out, how he couldn't live without it nowadays. And in spite of myself, I was thinking: this is the first step. No matter how long it takes for the second step, I'm starting on that road down to maximum size. I already have a guy like the Beast on my side, someone to ask questions, someone to encourage me. No, more than that. A true friend who understands that desire to make your biceps grow, the pleasure in inspiring envy in other guys, the longing to make your belly solid, to make your very grip an object of destruction. A brother in muscle. Maybe even more than that. His gym is in a corner of the village that I've not visited before, near the art gallery The building looks Victorian. There's a big bronze plaque on the wall, but I would never have guessed before now the sort of thing that happened inside. In fact, there was a sort of mystery to the place that made me think the gym might not be the whole story. I'm not sure exactly what I mean — I hadn't tried to put it into words until now. Anyway, it did have a gym inside it, and apparently it's men only. I suppose that is a bit odd, but not unheard of, and I was secretly relieved. I don't want any girls — especially fit girls — seeing me in this state. Only once I've put on some mass. Of course, I could never afford to join the Beast's gym. Its top of the range, high class. But more on that later. He wanted to show me the ropes, he said. Obviously, I couldn't go into the gym in my work clothes, but the Beast keeps a set of gym clothes in the locker room. In one smooth move he pulled off his Uranus Gyms tee and handed it to me. 'It'll do for today at least,' he said. 'Sorry if it pongs a bit.' A dark smell hung around the fabric: I suppose it was just sweat, but it had a sort of animal tang to it. I wondered if he worked with animals somewhere. I wondered if he worked at all. Was he a kept man? I realised I was staring at his naked chest, the dark hair slicked down with perspiration over his massive pecs like a Japanese silk screen print of a forested mountain. His nipples were immense and dark, and something about the smell of the shirt and the way he looked at me, I momentarily wondered what it would be like to put my mouth around one. God knows, I was that worked up about the idea of visiting a gym for the first time. Crazy the way your brain runs sometimes. I peeled Anthony's shirt from my sweat-sodden body, and the Beast looked me over and gave a little chortle. Seeing my expression he said, 'No, but you've got hardly any body fat at all. That's good. You may be scrawny but you'll show the muscle much sooner.' Heartened, I undid the fly on my trousers and pulled them to my ankles. I caught him looking at my chicken legs, and obviously deciding not to comment. He handed me a spare pair of shorts and I pulled them on, tightening the cord as far as they would go to make up for my lack of girth. I looked away as he was changing into his shorts, beginning to worry he was getting the wrong idea. He seemed cheerful, though. I really think he's been working out on his own this past three years. The actual space with the equipment was immediately intimidating. Overhead strip lights cast shadows in all directions. The equipment glinted in the glare, like the beads of sweat in the Beast's cropped hair. To start he had us doing press-ups, just as warm-ups. I remember doing these, no problem, when I was a kid. Well, this time I had a problem. I didn't understand at first, till the Beast pointed out how much more weight I have to press now, even in my minuscule condition. He, on the other hand, moved like a piece of machinery, rising and falling smoothly, a little hiss of breath escaping on every exertion. I tried again and managed about five before my arms crumpled and I fell to the floor. Like I said, that was just the start. Next we did some stretches. That was a lot easier, of course, but still I could feel how out of shape I was, how unskilled, how used to just slouching about. The Beast showed me how to stretch out my chest muscles, how to relax my neck. He got me to lie on my back with a leg in the air, and he pressed against me, ensuring I was stretched as far as I could go. His big dick was pressing against my thigh through my gym shorts, and suddenly I pictured him doing this with his girlfriend. Estelle, he'd called her. The one who had told him he should prostrate himself before me. Well, the reverse seemed to have happened. Did he stretch her out like he was doing me? Do girls have to do that when their men have big knobs like he does? Does Sophia expect that from me? Could I ever stretch her out the way a real man like the Beast could do? I mustn't feel down about this. If I put on muscle it'll make up for my little dick. God, she'll be on heat 24-7, she'll never look at another guy, knowing what I can do to her. What he could do to her now. Yes, I mustn't let him meet her... Next he took me over to the dumbbell bench, standing against a wall of mirrors. He picked up a couple of big weights, 30kg I'm pretty sure, and began doing alternating bicep curls, slowly bringing the weight up toward his shoulder, his forearms suddenly springing out with vascularity, his biceps bulging outward. Well, I thought, I'm not going to try and lift the same as him. I picked up 20kg. Perhaps I should have asked first. I stood beside him, watching him alternating these big blocks of metal, and I couldn't get either of mine even above waist height. My muscles were straining and my arms were shaking and I managed to raise the right one, but the left one just wasn't happening at all. This is real, I told myself. This is strength, and lack of strength. It's not just aesthetic. This is about what you can and can't lift. I put back the 20kg, tried it with 10kg, put that back and started with 5kg. The Beast met my eye in the mirror, and smiled. 'I'll lead you through a routine,' he told me. We did alternating dumbbell curls, and then a set of dips — the kind of thing I did all the time on the staircase when I first arrived at St Edward's, I know it, but something I couldn't manage at all now — to lift yourself up, basically, to rest on your forearms and then lever yourself back into the air. Fortunately, you can set the machine so that it helps you a bit. Naturally, the Beast needed no help. In fact, he looked in danger of buckling the dip station. He showed me how to do pull-ups, too, the reverse situation essentially. I managed a couple, and stood back to watch him pull himself off the ground like a mountain climber. We went back and forth, doing sets on the dip station and the dumb-bells, until I ended up back where I'd been with the too-heavy weights. My heart sank, but he explained that's all part of the process. If you don't push yourself to the point where you can't go on, your muscle will never be torn, never be stimulated, never grow. He knows all about it. He's grown from something much like me into something — dangerously big. Then he took me over to the bench where the barbells stood in racks. This was something else I'd seen on TV. I tried picking them up, testing the weight, and found I was just about comfortable with a 15kg. I lay down on the bench as he directed, and he stood over my face, explaining what I had to do. I looked up directly along the mass of his thighs, the huge mound of his dick in his shorts, the hill of his belly, and the peaks of his chest. I felt like he could have crushed me, harder than that barbell, if he'd wanted to. He grabbed my hands in his huge paws and positioned them precisely on the bar, getting me to hold it directly over my chest so that it grazed my nipples. That was the line I had to keep coming back to. I lifted it high, in a quick smooth motion as instructed, and lowered it slowly to my nipples, the cold iron bar weighing solidly upon them through his t-shirt. I managed to do the number of repetitions he suggested, each time the bar pressing more firmly on my nipples. I could feel a strange sense of power below my forearms, which stayed ramrod straight throughout. I had benchpressed 15kg for the first time in my life! He made me do some wrist extenders then, to work on my forearms, and then back to the bench press. Round and round till the strength in my chest muscles gave out and the bar rolled across my chest. I felt so fucking good. I felt like there was some power hidden in me that was beginning to flame into life. It waned slightly when I saw how much the Beast was pressing. He had to load plates onto the bar specially and fit them into the rack. Then he asked me to stand behind him, just where he had stood before, and he looked up at me from where he lay on the bench. I had to hold the bar, and if I felt like he was losing control of it, I had to heave with all my might and stop it, I suppose, landing on his throat. That neck of his was looking so huge and muscular that I joked the bar would just bounce off it, and he laughed, but he was still businesslike. The first ten reps, he did with his usual machine smoothness. I watched the muscles working in his arms. God, how enormous were they. My own were like bits of nylon compared to knots of rope. He rested, then went for ten more reps, and these were slower, and his face was red and straining. The last of his final ten reps, he gasped and lost control of the weight. It was too heavy even for him. I did all I could to hold it above him, but it was like gravity and decided to take it and I couldn't quarrel with him. He just managed to catch it at the last moment and settle it down on his barrel chest. 'Fuck,' he said. It was an intense moment, seeing him lose control. It was only a tiny thing, the briefest moment, but I felt like he had shown me some of the vulnerability he had forced out of me on Friday. I think any last doubts about the respect between us were quashed in that moment. 'How was that?' he asked, staring up at me with slightly mad eyes. His giant chest was rising and falling as he caught his breath. 'Fucking good,' I told him, with a slightly embarrassed smile. 'Want to do some more?' I nodded. 'You know,' he said, 'I need a spotter here. I always have to ask people, and they never want to. If you're interested, we could work out together all week.' 'Well, I -' I was about to make my excuses, but he cut across me. 'I can get you a free membership, of course. I'm close to senior people in Uranus.' For a second I didn't quite follow what he meant. Then I was grinning. 'Okay,' I said, 'Cool.' 'Let's do some more,' he said. 'Yeah,' I said. He did shoulder presses next. 'My shoulders are shit, mate,' he said, a sad little look in his face. He wouldn't let me disagree. 'You don't know strength yet,' he said. 'You'll see how bad my shoulders were.' He got me put my hands under his biceps for the final rep, so he could go through the burn and lift, even when his arms were tiring. He pressed massive dumbbells over his head, with multiple weights the size of an LP. He grunted and gasped as he went, and again I began fantasising about him and Estelle, and how hard he fucked her. When you're big, do you have to be careful, the power you fuck at? Or do they want you to give them everything you have. God, I want to find out. We went into separate cubicles when we showered off. I thought about him and Estelle and found my dick was rock hard. I had a bar of soap with me, so I sudsed myself up and had a nice slow, slippery wank. The Beast was in the cubicle next to me, and I could see him through the glass. I wondered if I should tell him what I was doing. Is that the sort of thing men do? No, I think they probably don't. He called through to say that he was going to towel himself off, and at the very same moment I spunked up the glass wall of the cubicle, biting my lip. I had to stand there and carefully rinse the cum off the glass. I was careful to wrap myself in a towel after. I don't want him to see how small I am down there. Afterwards, he gave me a protein shake he made himself. He keeps flasks of it in his locker. It was bright red, and it smelt like Hell. It didn't exactly taste like chilled champagne, either, but I love it for that. It tastes like hard work, which is what my life is going to be about from now on. Hard work and dedication, and building myself into my ideal. I saw the Beast's vulnerable side today. However strong you are, you reach a point where something overpowers you. I love that guy, but one day I've decided I'll take him to that point. And then he'll be where he had me, down on his knees.
  8. Chapter One "Oh, you were able to come!" As Roger gave Henry the biggest hug ever recorded in history, his friend gasped "I'm not the Ultimate Musketeer" and as Roger let go he chuckled "Although I could be if you wanted me to!" "We'll save that for the masses!" smiled Roger and with that opened the doors to the SUV and as Henry and Roger piled in all the materials they would need for the Olympia, they jumped in and pointed in the direction of Las Vegas and said in unison "Olympia, HO!" and with that Roger gunned the engine and they were off *** "Your destination is 809 miles away" announced the sat nav as they left Fort Collins "and will take eleven hours and thirty five minutes!" "Wow!" exclaimed Henry, "you do realise that's the same as travelling from where I live to Aberdeen and about two thirds of the way back again. You were right when you said that America was a large country!" "A large country" smiled Roger, "with large men heading to a contest with even larger men!" and with that they both laughed before Roger said "So, how was the flight?" "Flight?" asked Henry, "what flight?" "The flight from the UK to here!" replied Roger "Really?" asked Henry raising an eyebrow, "why on earth would I want to waste money on a flight?" "You never!" gasped Roger to which Henry replied with a chuckle "I did" and with that stated his journey. "I left my home at midnight today" he started, "remembering of course that I'm seven hours ahead of you. I had my luggage with me and so wheeled it down to the beach where I live. Then, and considering it was now a quarter past midnight, I went to the beach hut I have and there I..." "Oh fuck!" moaned Roger, "you did, didn't you?" "...became the Ultimate Musketeer!" added Henry and as he did Roger roared "Oh, fuck, yeah. Go on, tell me what you did!" "Well, after wrapping the luggage onto my back, I dived into the Irish Sea and headed due south west until I got to the Azores a little after three in the morning my time!" "Oh fuck!" moaned Roger, "how fast were you going?" "I'm not sure, but give me a moment" and as he consulted his tablet he replied "About three times faster than an aeroplane, but then I always like to go full throttle when I start!" "And then where?" moaned Roger "Well, I took a right hand turn and headed towards the United States. I think I arrived in, oh, now what was it called?" and with that he looked at the map and said "Ah, yes, here we are, Beverly Beach in Maryland, and that was just about sunrise" "You swum the Atlantic in a little over twelve hours?" gasped Roger "Give or take, yes!" "Oh man, your heart must have been pumping!" "Two hundred and forty beats per minute" said Henry, "about the same as a brisk jog. And from there I ran all the way here" "How long?" moaned Roger, "or should I stop the car now and cum?" "Let's see" came the reply, "I arrived in Maryland at around seven in the morning eastern, so that's five in the morning mountain, we'd agreed to pick me up from the airport at eleven mountain so five hours!" As Roger moaned, he pulled the car over and started scrabbling for something. Pulling out what looked like a drinks bottle, he pulled out his eleven inch cock, thrust it into the bottle and moaned "Speed?" "Three hundred and thirty nine miles per hour" came the reply, "a little under half the speed of sound!" "OOOOOOHHHHHH, FFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKK!" screamed Roger as he came into the bottle and as he orgasmed panted, "Tell Adam, the next time he visits, take the aeroplane. I don't think I'll be able to stand too many of his go it alone journeys!" "Hear that, Adam" said Henry tapping his head, "on the return journey we book a plane" to which Adam grumped in reply "That's not fair, you know I wanted to swim through the Panama Canal!"
  9. Hey guys! I know it has been a while since I last wrote. The story is pretty much still unfinished but I realized that having all the chapters spread out wasn't helping either. My plan now is to post all the chapters here, edited of course, this being so if you reread you will get a little extra fun from it. I'll also be posting progress pics within the story of the character,Vonny, who is based off of me and has very similar muscle progress. This way you can imagine how the character is growing a little better along with reading. I will also be posting pics from the web of what other characters look like and some scenery in order for you all to fully experience everything. Thanks for being patient and I hope you all will enjoy. Leave a comment if you have and questions or ideas!
  10. I think its a bit shorter than my other entries, but it is my first time writing a scene like this alone. I would appreciate any and all comments to make it better. Chapter 4: As Real as it Gets As soon as they got into the locker room John pulled Mike down and began to kiss him passionately. They kissed each other sloppily, their tongues grazing each other as John pushed Mike against a wall of gray lockers. Caleb smirked as his cock started to twitch with excitement. He took a picture of the distracted couple and sat down where he could secretly watch them. He wanted revenge. First he wanted to take down Mike a peg or two. Or more like a foot. He slid Mike's body down on the phone, causing him to become shorter, but keeping all his muscle. He shrank down to 5 foot 5, but he was wide as his muscles grew in size to fit his shorter stature. The former hulking bodybuilder was now the shorter of the two. The couple adjusted themselves as to comply with the change, but to them it was far too normal. “Now let’s make John a big hulk.” Caleb said as he played with the muscle settings for John. 180 pounds was far to small. He doubled that turning him into a 360 pound wall of pure muscle. John’s muscles twitched as they began to swell. His pecs growing with each heartbeat, creating slabs of pure muscle that pushed him and Mike away from one another. His hands grew larger as he began to rub the crevices of Mike’s bulging muscles. John’s arms thickened as his bi’s and tri’s exploded with growth. His delts and traps swelling, giving him wide shoulders and a thick neck. His stomach rippled as a massive 8 pack emerged from the smoothness that it once was. John’s legs were the last to change, growing to be the size of tree trunks, glutes so tight that they could crack walnuts, and size 13 feet. The last thing to change was their more personal bits. With such a small stature Mike had to get a reward of sorts. Caleb started to increase the size of the bugle in the picture and at the same time the real thing started to grow into its now tight confinement. The bulge expanded with every second, until it was quite obscene. John smirked as he saw the strained workout shorts, and easily ripped them off, revealing a footlong cock, throbbing and drooling precum. John ran his thick fingers over it, giving it a good squeeze before he flipped Mike over and started to rub Mike’s aching hole with his large fingers. John dropped his own shorts to his ankles revealing his own throbbing erection, a nice sized 8 incher. He couldn't wait to get to the showers, he had to take Mike right now. John pushed his throbbing pole against the tight, never used hole. With a grunt he pushed into the virgin hole, eliciting a loud, long moan from Mike. John started to jackhammer into Mike, both moaning as the rapid intensity of John’s thrusts only quickened. The lockers they were using as a wall were rattling with the quick pace of their lust filled romp. Caleb watched all this, his own shorts on the floor as he furiously stroked his own, five inch erection. He he looked at it, he felt he could make it bigger. Opening Reality Bender he took a picture of his own cock. He stretched it out, moaning as it grew longer and longer, stopping at a nice and thick 12 inches long. He moaned as he went back to stroking his own cock with softball sized balls as the other two made love. “I love you bro! I’m gonna bust!” John said as he stopped thrusting, blowing the load his large balls into Mike’s hungry hole. The pressure against his prostate made Mike blow his even larger load all over the lockers. They both sat down on the floor panting as Mike replied “I love you too bro” before embracing the much larger man. Caleb was cleaning up the mess had done all over the wooden bench seat he was on. “I should leave these two lovebirds alone” he thought as he pulled up his pants and started to go back to the gym area.Where he could hear someone yelling from outside the gym.
  11. EcchiMultiverse

    Marvelous Man - Chapter 11

    All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=11TnIR4aIg1Pt_hZeCRSi7f8fBsYphn8zmoEz2lYXRyE) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Chapter 11: Consequences The hallway of the Demon Authority Bureau's fifth floor echoed with the muffled sounds of crashing and cursing. The source of the noises emanated from the closed office of the head of the D.A.B.’s North American region, Director Doug Skye. “Fatherfucker!” screamed the Director. Seconds ticked by as Marvelous Man uncomfortably fidgeted about in front of the door. He stood there; clad with nothing but his jewel-encrusted, golden athletic cup suctioned to his extra large delicates. To his left was his field analyst, Fairuza. Still as a statue, she clutched her book with a strong vice while twiddling the edges of her cream white hijab between her fingers. On Marvelous Man’s right, Gene posed with a relaxed demeanor. Marvelous Man could see his partner’s behavior as an act, as he could feel the bunny demigod emit trepidation. The continuing profanity and smashing finally died down as the doorknob begins to click and twist. The door slowly opens to reveal Puzzles standing behind it. The smoke imp stood straight with a professional poise, while the blended scent of jasmine and lavender escaped into the hallway. Whatever worry he had was held frozen underneath his crystal blue eyes. He gestured with his chin, “Come in.” Taking lead, Marvelous Man ducked underneath the doorway as he entered. Gene and then Fairuza followed behind him. Although Marvelous Man’s legs were mighty with tremendous muscular power, they trembled at the what the Director might do. It took all of the musclebound hero’s willpower to not fall down with each small step he took. The barely clothed hero surveyed the inside of the office to briefly study any notable damages. The interior was still the same as the last time he saw it. A cobalt-colored carpet flooring with scenic paintings and glowing runes adorning the walls. All the furnishings, including the plants and statues, remained intact. Even the cherrywood desk the Director was currently seated behind showed no signs of splintering or impact. As for the Director, small beads of sweat perspired on his forehead, as he drew shallow breaths of exhaustion. It was obvious that he had recently engaged in a physically rigorous activity. He had his hands placed on top of his desk; intertwined with a slight tremble from leftover adrenaline. And his usual Southern gentlemanly smile was replaced with a struggling, neutral flatline. Puzzles’ expression changed into shock the moment he turned around. After letting Gene and Fairuza inside, he hurriedly waddled back to the Director’s desk. Marvelous Man spotted the smoke imp kick the remains of a splintered wooden baseball bat back underneath the cherrywood desk. Puzzles then stared up at Marvelous Man with a look that said, “You saw nothing!” As Puzzles dissipated into smoke and reappeared on top of the desk, Director Skye raised one of his hands and slowly waved it with his index and middle finger extended. The room itself responded to his magical gesture and softly closed the door behind the three squad members. The Director sighed; letting out any building tension he had within himself. “So before we get into the meat of this meeting, I wanted to address a curious elephant in the room,” he said. The Director turned his attention to Gene, “Now, Gene. I am most certainly glad that you had not come back from the mission bare-ass naked. It’s a new record for this being twice in a row.” Director Skye’s eyes then shifted to Marvelous Man. “That being said, what happened to your outfit, Marvelous Man? I distinctly do not remember you wearing...that earlier today,” he said. Marvelous Man stared at the cherrywood desk, “We were fighting a monster, and it was melting into acid. It pulled me into itself, and, well...it melted all my clothes off except for my cup. And we wanted to report our findings as soon as possible, so I didn’t have time to change...Sorry.” “No need to apologize about that. It happens,” sighed the Director, “But I think it’s time we get back to the proverbial meat I just stated a few seconds ago.” He continued, “I’ve went over the statement Fairuza gave to me about how the mission went. There is honestly only one thing we can say about this. Puzzles?” “You all fucked up. That was our only chance to bring down the Skeleton Lord, and now we have no way of tracking him,” said Puzzles. The Director corrected, “We all fucked up, Puzzles. And the root of the stem of mistakes started with me. I had grown too lax with the Nemesis Branch being a safety net if a supervillain grew too powerful. I should have sent in some field agents earlier. Maybe we could have prevented that slaughter. Then again, maybe not. At the very least, you two managed to survive with very minimal injuries.” “Still, none of this looks good on the D.A.B. as a whole. People were murdered by the Skeleton Lord, and he got away. And since the Skeleton Lord committed multiple homicides, this case will have to be shared with the Skyway City police department. But I will say that it's fortunate that the Skeleton Lord has not truly shown any initial signs that his power level has gone up. Unless he can destroy a building in one blow, it’s subjective enough for him to remain a C-Rank. Meaning that we can still handle this case rather than passing it on to only the Nemesis Branch and the other boys in blue,” said Director Skye. Marvelous Man felt embarrassed at himself. Though he survived the ordeal with the Skeleton Lord and his monster, it was still a mission failure. Even with all that muscle and superpowers, he felt powerless at his situation. The Director concluded, “So in the meanwhile, you all are on standby until the Skeleton Lord shows up again. Now if there’s nothing else y’all want to say, then you are dismissed.” With nobody else commenting, Gene took a step forward. He no longer emoted the emotion of trepidation, but rather curiosity. “If I may inquire, sir, what will happen to the deceased? Will there be a funeral held for them or perhaps will their kin be notified of the passing of their lives?” asked Gene. Director Skye shook his head, “No, there will be no funeral for them. And as for their next of kin, we don’t know who was killed. Nobody was keeping track of who was in that homeless group, and the only remains not melted by Marvelous Man that was briefed in Fairuza’s report was...Puzzles?” Marvelous Man flinched at the remark, while the smoke imp picked up a digital tablet that lied next to him. Fiddling it with his cat-like paws, seconds passed by until he found an answer. “Martin Walsh, Boss. No family or known friends that we have to talk to about his death,” reported Puzzles. Gene’s eyes became wide with shock. His hands clenched, as he emitted ripples of anger. Marvelous Man forcibly calmed himself; mentally telling himself that those were not his own emotions. The rabbit superhero protested, “But we must lay them to rest! It is only fair that we carry out such a duty as fellow beings. Will not the citizens of Skyway City be restless upon knowing their homeless have been preyed upon?!” The Director paused; placing a hand over his face. He sighed, as the hand slowly slid down. He looked at Gene with cold honesty. “As far as the citizens of Skyway City are concerned, they don’t give a damn that homeless people were killed. Especially since those people in the subway were rejects from other self-sustaining homeless communities. Matter of fact, some would find it as a blessing that they were murdered. They most certainly will not be missed,” he stated. Director Skye continued, “Now if you want to hold a funeral for them, be my guest. The D.A.B. will not divulge any more of their resources for that sort of thing other than purifying the area to prevent supernatural activities. And with it being an abandoned subway station, gods only knows when we’ll get to that.” The air held still tension, and time seemed to slow down with every heartbeat that rang in Marvelous Man’s ears. Marvelous Man could feel the anger from Gene increasing, as he saw the bunny demigod’s shoulders tense. He wanted to shout at the Director for saying such thoughtless things. He wanted to support Gene’s claim...but no words could come to his head. Marvelous Man did not know the right response to such an event. Saying anything but the right words could hurt them. … No, that’s wrong. This isn’t Sunnysville. Marvelous Man was not in Sunnysville anymore, and none of the people here are soulless androids...he hoped. Marvelous Man flicked his gaze over to Fairuza for any support. She had her head bowed with her eyesight anchored to the cobalt carpet. Fairuza seemed to hug her book tighter; as if trying to be absorbed into the hardback itself. “So be it,” gritted Gene. The bunny demigod stormed towards the door. The anger he broadcasted now came with a hint of sadness. After opening the office door, he slammed it shut behind him with a considerable amount of his super strength. The door instantly glowed and boomed from the impact. The light surrounding the door appeared to be some sort of thin, translucent barrier. Instead of exploding into splintering pieces from the amount of force Gene used, the door remained intact. A glowing rune shimmered on top of the glowing door, as if it were the barrier’s power source. It then faded away a second later; along with the glowing barrier. Puzzles ears perked up upon seeing the barrier. Turning around, he waddled across the desk to where the Director sat. The smoke imp leaned forward and whispered into his master’s ear. Director Skye looked at Marvelous Man, “Mr. Marvelous Man, it has just occurred to me that you have used a new power that has not been stated in your profile. Now regulations would stipulate that you march right into the DMR and update your profile.” Before Marvelous Man could form words in objection, the Director held up a hand. “But. I am willing to look the other away from this issue just this once. HOWEVER. If you use those new powers of yours in public, you forfeit that privilege and will bounce your bubbly muscle ass back into the DMR. Are we clear?” spoke Director Skye. Marvelous Man swallowed. He realized that if he his newfound power were catalogued into his superhero profile, other companies would probably hire him for that purpose. And even worse would that people could be afraid of him. And that elated feeling of inflicting pain onto other people...he did not want to become that kind of person. He nodded, “Yes, sir. Crystal clear, sir.” “Good. Y’all are dismissed then,” said the Director, “Oh, and one more thing, Marvelous Man. Go to the second floor and get cleaned up. You smell like puke.” >>>>>>>>>>> The locker room on the second floor’s Shower and Onsen floor was empty, as Marvelous Man ducked underneath the entrance’s doorway. The musclebound hero was glad to not find Gene in a spit roast threesome again. He did not find Gene’s openly sexual practices disgusting, but he could not help but feel embarrassed when encountering it. Marvelous Man sauntered over towards a random locker on the top row. Pulling open the latch with one hand, he place his other on his golden athletic cup. The muscular hero sighed a mix of relief and disappointment, as his jewel-encrusted cup hissed a suction release. Lifting the cup off, he felt his large testicles wetly slap against his overly muscular, tree-trunk thighs. Marvelous Man then felt cold air caressing his moist, hefty package. As the sweet, musky smell of his cum wafted up to his nose, he inspected the inside of his golden athletic cup. The interior was slathered in layers and ropes of his musky ejaculation. Marvelous Man knew that he experienced some emissions during his return to the D.A.B. and his meeting with the Director. But he was so stressed from the recent events, that he hardly noticed. He questioned if that was why he was able to maintain his composure after poisoning the Teratoma, when he would usually run away until the feelings of anxiety cleared. Placing the cup inside the teal locker, he then closed it. Marvelous Man made a mental note to clean the golden athletic cup later when he arrived back at home. More than likely, he would do it after he was done being Justice. He wanted a break from superhero work, as it was starting to become a bit too gritty for his mental health. >>>>>>>>>>>>>> Slowly thumping his heavy body into the shower room, Marvelous Man found the area occupied by Gene on the other side of the room. The bunny demigod was standing underneath an activated showerhead and had his back turned to the hulkish hero. Marvelous Man could not sense Gene’s broadcasted emotions, and Gene gave no acknowledgement at Marvelous Man’s presence. The white rabbit ears drooped heavily with being wet from the shower. It was as if the bunny demigod was lost in thought. Hot water cascaded off of Gene’s naked body; streams of water filling in the hard crevices of his musculature. Unlike Marvelous Man’s inflated muscles, Gene’s muscle anatomy was more compact. All that flesh wound tightly and twisting into each other like ropes. He reminded Marvelous Man of marble human sculptures chiseled with realistic skin folds and flexing sinew that made it seem alive. There was so much power within this smaller person that Marvelous Man could now appreciate even more. Though the only place that was not hard with compact muscle and sinew was Gene’s buttocks. A layer of fat encompassed the bunny demigod’s glutes to give it a round, bouncy appeal. The water itself bended around the derriere; as if it were cupping the cheeks in worship of the rabbit adonis. However, that soft layer still quivered under the might of Gene’s muscular bottom whenever he lightly swayed underneath the showerhead. Marvelous Man spoke up, “Uhh, Gene?” The rabbit superhero turned around to face his caller. He gave a small smile, but his eyes betrayed that action by reflecting hints of sadness. “Greetings, Marvelous Man. Have you come to cleanse yourself with the shower?” he asked. Marvelous Man nodded while heading towards the showerhead next to Gene. Like the tiny quakes he gave off with each weighty step, it vibrated throughout his body. Every action causing his excessive muscles on his thighs and pecs to jiggle; almost as if he were stuffed to the brim with semi-solid mercury. He replied back, “Yeah. Director Skye told me I smelled like puke.” Gene paused for a moment. His eyes fluttered with the attempt to recall a memory. “Yes, like your culture’s saying goes, he does not beat around the bush,” said Gene. Standing next to the bunny demigod, Marvelous Man turned the shower’s handle on. Hot water sprayed onto his protruding pectorals; breaking off into multiple miniature rivers that travel around the pec shelf’s curved angles. While pleasing to a voyeur’s eye, it was another annoyance for Marvelous Man that he had grown used to with products not accustomed to his size. He was too tall for the showerhead to naturally spray him, and he was too big and wide for the water to reach every part of him without trickling down the upper parts of his expanded anatomy. Gene’s ears twitched to attention. It seemed as if he had felt Marvelous Man’s frustration. He looked up at his partner, “Is there something that troubles you?” Marvelous Man was about to say no, when he realized a problem in his current situation. “...I don’t have any soap. You got any on you?” asked Marvelous Man. Gene stooped down for a second before standing up straight again. He grinned, while he held a green and yellow body wash bottle in his hand. He inquired, “Do you have any discretions with the honeysuckle scent?” “Naw, it’s fine. I like the smell of those flowers,” smiled Marvelous Man. Gene replied, “I am most glad to hear that. Please sit down, so I may apply.” Marvelous Man’s eyebrow rose, as he slightly tilted his head. “Huh?” he said. Gene stated, “You are too big to lather yourself, am I correct? I have brothers as big as you, and they need help with the lathering of their backs. Their muscles are too big to be flexible enough to reach their backs.” Marvelous Man felt embarrassed. It was true what Gene said. Nowadays, he had to use a long body brush to apply any body wash on his backside. “Y-Yeah. Thanks,” said Marvelous Man The bulky superhero complied and sat down in a seiza position. His tree-trunk thighs laying on his calves, and his round, ample buttocks resting over his heels. With his back arched straight and sitting at a lower height, the water was finally able to spray his whole being. He was glad for the help, but it felt uncomfortable to seem vulnerable to a person he wanted to be equal to. Marvelous Man’s shoulders twitched, as he felt a thick amount of cold gel squirted onto the base of his neck. After the application, Gene rubbed his hands into the body wash gel. The rabbit superhero kneaded the soap across Marvelous Man’s bulging, muscular traps and around his shoulders. Gene’s fingers at first felt bony and rough. But seconds after their maneuvering, they became a gentle massage. A light moan escaped Marvelous Man’s lips, as tension evaporated from his affected muscles. Every part of him that was touched felt like it became a malleable clay of pleasure. However, one part of him beneath his torso became an unbreakable cylinder-shaped clay of pleasure. Marvelous Man gave himself a mental headshake. He needed to focus and say what he wanted to say to Gene. He spoke up, “I...I just wanted to say I’m sorry. About what Director Skye said. It was really harsh, and he should’ve at least helped a bit. With the funeral, I mean.” The bunny demigod stopped his lathering for a moment. He softly smiled and resumed his scrubbing. “I am not sure why you feel the need to apologize. But I appreciate the sentiment,” said Gene, “What the Director said reminded me of what the elders of my tribe have said. That outside of our country, the rest of the world is strangled by chaos.” With the top of Marvelous Man’s back completely soaped, Gene applied more honeysuckle-scented body wash on the hulking hero. “In my tribe, every person is important. All of my brethren serve a role that can benefit everybody or at least an individual. Outcasts do not exist,” he continued. Marvelous Man hesitated, “But...isn’t that cause it’s a tribe? Tribes are much smaller than countries like the U.S. And with so many people in these big countries, there isn’t enough resources for everybody to be important. Outcasts are kinda unavoidable.” “Then perhaps the breeders should be more mindful on the quantity of their offspring,” retorted Gene. Marvelous Man grinned, “Are you trying to tell people to not have sex? Because that’s kinda impossible.” “I suppose that it is hypocritical of me to say such things,” giggled Gene. The sitting superhero laughed at Gene’s comment before calming down. Marvelous Man could feel Gene rubbing the soap onto his lower back. Each thick ridge of muscle softened; turning his back into a map of sensitive bliss. At every knead, his mind became soft and sweet like cotton candy, and his hard erection ached for release. He needed to voice his true intentions to Gene before he was too stimulated to think. He cleared his throat, “I, uh, I also wanted to say that...if you’re serious about having a funeral...I’d like to help out. With whatever you need...and stuff.” “I accept your assistance. But as of this moment, I would like to focus on other things. I still feel displeased from the most recent event,” said Gene. Marvelous Man nodded, “Um, Sure...sure, okay. Can I ask you something? Last one, I swear.” “Proceed,” replied Gene. Squeezing his thick thighs with his hands, Marvelous Man gathered what courage he could. It was becoming harder to speak as his back muscles melted at the bunny demigod’s touch. His heartbeat began to increase from the struggle of pronouncing his next words. He hesitated, “Would you…would you go out with me? I like you a lot even though we just met. Would it be okay if we went on a date, so I can get to know you better?” The rabbit superhero ceased his scrubbing. “Hm? Ah, this is an attempt at courtship, yes? No man has ever asked me out on a ‘date’. I have always wondered what it would be like to do such things as enacted by the outside world’s media.” said Gene. He paused for a second, as Marvelous Man’s heart raced. The bunny demigod smiled, “Yes, I would like to be taken out on the date. It sounds like an amusing activity.” Marvelous Man was elated. He felt like he could do endless super jumps. It was a simple act of asking; but to Marvelous Man, it was a giant step towards adulthood and being an individual. Now he truly thought of himself as a marvelous man. “Now perhaps I can take this chance of getting to know your body better,” said Gene. The rabbit superhero leaned forward; his tight body and hard erection pressing against Marvelous Man’s lower back. Gene’s arm snaked underneath Marvelous Man’s swollen lats. Maneuvering his hand in front of the musclebound hero’s cobblestone abs, he grabbed Marvelous Man’s swollen sexual muscle. Squealing in surprise, Marvelous Man’s flight power activated by reflex. The surprised man propelled forward into the air. With no thought of direction or stopping within the next second, he slammed straight into the tiled walls. Next Chapter
  12. I originally published this on the old evolution forum, April 7, 2013. The TFs start after the row of ************** You're Trent, you're the star receiver on the high school football team. It's your senior year. BOOM! You smack your buddy during scrimmage and quickly scoot by him as you break through the defense during practice. Like second nature you turn your nimble and quick legs, maintaining a high speed as you run backwards waiting for Jon, the team quarterback, to pass you the ball. It slides easily into your hands and you make yet another touchdown. Coach blows the whistle during practice calling you all back to the sidelines. “Damn Trent, you're too good for our defense!” Coach enthusiastically says, glaring at the brutes on the defensive side, “you boys need to work harder, we got a big game next week. Okay let's call it a day, nice work gents.” You always enjoyed practice, it was less tense than games and fun to hang out with your buds, plus no need for full-on uniforms today. You slip off your helmet and undo your shoulder pads, leaving you in a cut white t-shirt and your gym shorts. You head over to Jon doing the same, “nice pass man. I think we're gonna kick ass this season.” Jon smiles as he pulls his shirt over himself, satisfied with practice for the day. “Yea man I think so too. We're getting pretty good. Top of our game.” You look at the QB's cut abs and protruding pecs. “Been working out Johnny boy?” you ask, chuckling. Feeling the need to show off yourself you too casually slip off your shirt, revealing a similarly cut body but with the addition of a deep grooved adonis belt, V extending into your cut abs. Jon laughs, the two of you equally impressed with yourselves. Senior year and it doesn't seem like life can get much better. You're a complacent and ignorantly happy jock. You're in all honors classes, getting near-straight As, a star football receiver, a great body, a solid if jerky personality...you wouldn't have it any other way. Walking by the cheerleaders you and Jon give the girls a smile. They chuckle and wave back, soaking in your bodies with their eyes. Behind them the guy cheerleaders admire you too, smiling without being too obvious about their own homosexual feelings. “Which one are you taking tonight?” you ask Jon, the two of you trading around a few of the cheerleaders as sex partners for the last few weekends. “I think the dudes are into us too,” he answers ignoring you. “Nothing wrong with that, I know I'm sexy to both.” The two of you trudge into the football locker room where most of the team is already in place undressing from practice. You and Jon settle onto the bench and pull off your shoes and socks, tossing them in your locker. Clayton, another receiver on the team, walks over in his compression shorts. “Bet you fellars won't flash yourselves to the cheerleaders outside. They all standing out in the parking lot since the door's still open. Dare ya to walk across the opening bare nude.” You turn around and notice half the team looking at you, wondering if you'll follow through. Alex, a linebacker adds, “they'll do it, they love getting naked!” You and Jon smile before together, like clockwork, casually remove your compression shorts, standing back up and casually showing off your cut bodies and obnoxiously large packages. The two of you walk without towels toward the front door, you in the lead. Turning your head but being careful not to show your package you wave to the ladies down below, guys behind them gawking at your awesome body. To tease further you and Jon decide to turn in uniform, fully showing your naked packages. The girls oogle and blow kisses before the two of you laugh and walk back. “You owe me, Clayton,” you shout, proud enough not to need any kind of payback for the dare. “We're fuckin' BEASTS!” Jon shouts as he slaps your ass. You take a shower and throw on your briefs and another pair of clean gym shorts, throw on your shoes and another cut t-shirt. Yes, it's good to be the big, bad jock, you think to yourself smiling. Looking around at your teammates you're reassured in your friendship and kinship with your fellow jocks, too. They may vary in personality and athleticism but together you share the camaraderie of being jocks. Jon gives you a light shove against the locker as he drops his towel and begins pulling out his clothing. As you watch the naked quarterback get dressed slowly, deliberately strutting himself as long as he can, you wonder if it's your athleticism that brings you and your friends to be so suavely cocky. Four years ago you wouldn't have really cared to be naked, but now it's not only second nature, it's something you thrive on, and you earn a lot of attention and respect for doing so. “So, which of the ladies are you taking home tonight?” you ask as Jon ties his shoes. “I fucked a guy last night,” he says casually, not caring if anyone judged him over such a statement. “One of the cheerleaders?” you ask back, surprised at his blunt answer. “Yea man, that one junior, Drake? He loved taking it up the butt. Cindy was right there with him. She stepped in as soon as I was done with him. One dude followed by one chick. Probably the craziest thing I've done...” he answers grabbing his backpack. “Jesus,” you say, astounded, “what was it like?” “It was sex!” he answers back cockily, “it's a place to deposit some sperm and orgasm, that's it. Tonight it'll probably be Cindy and Kendra if I get them both. That Kendra is an elusive fox, makes me want to hunt her down more and more.” As the two of you leave the locker room and carpool home, you check out the high school that is your domain, your rule of the world. The hot, dry air feels good on a night like tonight. High fiveing fellow jocks on the track team you wind your way to the parking lot and see a group of nerds, also seniors, rolling some dice on the ground as they play their nerdy card game at a nearby picnic table. Most of the time you consider yourself a nice guy, but these dweebs were too much of a fun opportunity to pass up, so you give them a visit. “What's up duudes?!” you say innocently as they conspicuously put their game away, hiding it. “Nuthin'...” they murmur, hoping you'll leave them alone. They try not to look at you, intimidated by your presence, but you stand there smiling, and as you notice them look at you, you feel a certain amount of admiration and jealously flow from them, giving you too much pride. Jon drops his duffel bag in front of them and it lands on the table. “I wanna play a game!” he shouts, walking around the nerds. “What'll it be, Kevin?” he asks one of the nerds, a smart kid but socially awkward, with a bow cut of blonde hair and tiny specks. “Nuthin, man, don't you have somewhere to be...” Jon ignores him. “Something a little personal,” he suggests, zipping open his bag, “something called...” he slowly pulls out his dirty jockstrap as he stands right behind Kevin, “Stuffed face!” Jon slams the jock into Kevin's face as he holds him into a headlock. The four other nerds scatter and run away while the helpless Kevin stays attached to the dirty jock. The kid struggles to no use. You feel bad for him and nod for Jon to let him go, giving the poor nerd a chance to breathe. “You fuckin animal!” he says, between breaths. “Fuck yea I'm an animal!” Jon responds laughing. You grab Kevin's shirt as he tries to leave. “Where you goin' buddy?” you ask, still asserting yourself while giving a good cop attitude. “You're gonna be fuckin sorry one of these days,” Kevin said, “You think you rule over me now, but it won't be long...” he says cryptically. You hold him for a moment longer, “what do you mean?” you ask more seriously. Jon walks around, yanking off his gym shorts and showing a large boner under his boxers, “I'll get it outta him,” he says, putting Kevin in another headlock and prying his jeans down to his knees. Jon was never bashful about his bisexual and domineering tendencies but you never knew him to be this savage. In fear and anger Kevin shouts “Fuck you! The Zets will have our revenge!” and you shove Jon to set the poor kid down. Holding him in place, you wonder what he means by that term. “Zets?” Jon gives a look of frustration as he pulls back his gym shorts. Seeing others emerge from the high school you give him a look that you just saved his skin. “Tomorrow...you'll...be....sorry,” Kevin says, and with that you let Kevin go as he runs away into the forest behind. “What did he mean by that?” you ask Jon as he drives you back home. “Fuck if I know, I coulda gotten him to tell you.” Jon trails off as you think about the word he used, “Zets.” Trying to find any connection to the Zets, you start to see online accounts of some type of pendant called Zets being used on Greek warriors. Searching through your old history books you find info on the mythology of the ancient Greeks and read about Kratos, the god of strength who carried with him a pendant of Zets. Realizing that the basic info won't be enough for you to understand what Kevin meant you delve deeper into the mythos of Kratos, who he was and what he did. You find that small tribes of the Greek peoples in island settings off the mainland believed that their warriors were not of their land, the land of the mortal, but from a distant plane of existence, one fueled by Kratos, the god. These warriors were immortal, strong, well-respected, and were distinctly identified by the diamond-shaped amulet they had inscribed into their chests. This wasn't simply a tattoo but an actual artifact that seemed to be a part of their bodies, and one that they could hide within their bodies or use on their chests as a weapon. You go onto read about how the Kratos warriors often ruled the clans on the islands and for many years conquered and ruled neighboring lands using their powers. Reading over the material gets you excited about the prospect of living as one of these men many years ago. “How incredible...” you think to yourself as you continue reading. The etchings of the men in the textbooks are truly spectacular, and accounts report that they were always naked. “Sounds like me already,” you joke to yourself as you read over the powers that the warriors held, which seem to embody the control of every aspect of space and time, physics and biology. The entire mythos of Kratos himself was based around these Zets pendants. The pendants may have been extraterrestrial, or extra-universal, in such a way that to what the Greeks seemed as god-like powers were actual alien technology. Powers of some extraterrestrial race. Forgetting about the mythical and impossible facts that the research alludes to, your mind drifts to what the nerd was talking about when he said “you'll all be sorry.” “Maybe he can summon a warrior using one of these amulets,” you think to yourself. “I need to see if I can find one, if I can summon one myself,” and you sketch a copy of the diamond-shaped amulet to take to school for the next day. Throughout the day you notice the nerd Kevin give both you and Jon longside and evil glances as he roams the school hallways. On the way to P.E. You even notice him suspiciously looking at you, following you as you walk to the locker room. Knowing something is wrong, you warn your football buddies Jon and Nate to leave school with you and head to the car before practice. “I want to find that Kevin kid and see what the fuck he's all about,” you suggest. “Shit yea, let's do it,” Jon agrees, “we don't have practice till 4 anyway.” At 3pm you follow Kevin to the locker rooms for the gym, for guys who weren't on any sports teams. You knew it would be empty as no one wants to hang around after school on a Tuesday, and assume that whatever Kevin is up to it's definitely no good. You signal for your buddies to wait and hide behind the staircase as you seal the door and peer at Kevin. He throws his backpack in a locker and quickly looks around before pulling off his shoes and socks. “That punk's never changed in school before!” Jon notes, making an insulting point to note that the kid never gets naked unlike him or you. “He's up to something,” Nate concurs, watching the nerd go down to his boxers before pulling out of his backpack two triangular shaped but elaborately carved rocks. Kevin examines them closely, weighing each rock in his hand with respect. “That's the fuckin amulet,” you whisper, “we gotta grab him now!” The three of you quietly and briskly sneak up behind Kevin while still holding the rocks. “Grab him!” you shout and Jon and Nate enthusiastically grab the nerd in both hands, causing him to drop the rocks. “Fuck!!” he shouts, “let go of me motherfuckers!” They back him against the opposite row of lockers and hold him in his place as he kicks and screams. “HEEELP!” he shouts, but with the locker door sealed and no one in that corridor of the school, you know his pleas are futile. “I read a little about the Kratos warriors last night,” you say seriously as Kevin continues to struggle. “I knew that if we didn't come down here and investigate we'd probably regret it.” Trying to read Kevin, you can't tell if you're scaring him as he continues to fight his way out of your buddies' arm locks. “You know I can't let you do anything that would hurt us. You'd only hurt yourself, and your school...” you try to reason as you want to figure out what this kid was up to. Tired of beating around the bush you ask him directly, “Did you find a Zets amulet?” the words 'amulet' scare the kid and he freezes. Eyes wide Kevin simply says, “No” as he stares at you in fear. “Because if you did,” you answer, “I can't let you summon some creature to come and hurt me. That wouldn't be very nice would it.” You take a step back and cross your arms examining the kid. Looking down you see the two triangular rocks on the ground. “This isn't the amulet is it?” you ask, picking them up and weighing each in your left and right hands. “These rocks...what are they?” you ask, showing them to Kevin still wrapped by your buddies' arms. “They're just...just rocks,” Kevin answers, trying to be as innocent as possible. “Just something for geology class, now let me go!” he pleas. Ignoring him you continue, “because, if you have the amulet, then I'd like to see it. Is this the amulet?” You hold up the rocks, reading the nerd so easily and surmising that you have the amulet. Jon chimes in with a sinister smile, “what is it?” he asks, “what was this punk trying to do with it?” You answer, not trying to sound like too big of a nerd yourself, “What he said yesterday struck me a little bit. He said 'we'd be sorry' which a nerd would never say without some sort of help. I thought he might have found something important that he could have used against us. Now I think I might be right...” “What could this punk have done?” Jon asks. “Could it...uhh...hurt us?” “I don't think it matters now that I have it,” you say, giving Jon and Nate a small smile. Turning your attention to Kevin, “I thought the amulet was diamond shaped,” you say, comparing the two rocks. “That you could summon...” “Don't do it!” Kevin answers back desperately. “Man, please don't do it, you won't let me live if you do it...” “Do what?” You answer, looking back down at the rocks, smiling at the fact that you're finally getting the nerd to talk. Moving them around in your hands you realize putting them side by side turns the two triangles into a diamond. “Oh shit,” you say, concluding the puzzle, “this thing is the fucking amulet!” You admire the rocks as you realize what it is. “What does it do if I put them together?” you ask Kevin. Kevin is now nearly crying as his desperation overflows. “I don't know, man...” he says, “don't do it, please!” Jon gives him a light but tight punch to his gut to get to him talk. “Answer him, Kevin!” he shouts. “Argh!” Kevin yelps before answering, “you...you become one of them, man! But please don't!” “What do you mean one of them?” anticipating his answer, you start to get excited, “wait...could it be true?” you think to yourself. “A warrior! A warrior jeez no...now please don't!” Kevin continues to plea. Your smile widens at his words. It is true! You can actually become an immortal and almighty being by putting together these rocks! What incredible power. As you slowly start to merge the rocks you begin having visions of these powers, of the muscular and naked splendor that these warriors beheld, of the powers they contained within them and could selfishly use for whatever they felt and desired. You would be the one and only warrior of this time, a newly formed and immortal being for the present world. “Jesus...” you whisper as lusts and dreams encircle in your thoughts. You wouldn't only become a warrior, you would become the very powers that the god Kratos held within him, and more. You would become pure power. “Trent,” Nate says, a bit confused and worried himself but still holding Kevin to the locker wall, “what is that thing?” “It's power,” you answer as the visions clear from your head. “Powers I'm about to gain.” “Are you fuckin serious?!” Jon asks in excitement, actually believing you. “Can I have some too?” “I think so,” you say. “Dude,” Nate warns, “watch out, you don't know what that thing can do...” “Looking back up, reality seeping back in but realizing you're still in possession of the amulet you tell your buddies, “hold that nerd there. I'm about to become a true god.” “NOOO! No NOOO!” Kevin shouts again, struggling with all his strength but unable to move against your buddies who pin him against the lockers. Your hands shake in anticipation of the transformation you dream of having. You smile at Kevin and tell him, “what? did you think you were capable of harnessing these powers? Of abusing them?” you ask him, showing him the rocks. “What makes you think something like this will be bestowed upon you?! You practically told me, gave away, that you had the potential to gain these powers! But you're too late, you gave away the secret! And anyway you're mistaken, man. These powers weren't created for nerds like you. These powers are for someone like me. A man of masculinity. A man of strength.” You speak almost channeling the warrior you feel you will become. You lift your shirt and show your six pack. “Do you have one of these?” you ask him? “Do you have the dick of a beast? If not then step aside, because I'm taking advantage of the powers of the gods. I am becoming one...” You laugh at the realization of your assertiveness, which you admit to yourself is silly. But who cares? Knowing that the warriors were bare, and wanting to be in your natural state for the transformation, you pull off your t-shirt and drop it to the ground before kicking off your shoes, triangles held tightly in your palm. Smiling at your buddies, and making it apparent the transformation is about to happen to you, you pull off your socks and slide down your gym shorts, leaving you only in your briefs. Kevin stares at your already cut body with both respect and fear. The tent in your briefs shows your excitement as Jon and Nate are still confused by what is to happen. But Kevin simply whispers, “no” in sadness, sad that he didn't get to possess the powers first. “Shoulda acted a little faster, nerd,” you say condescendingly. You walk close to him to make him particularly uncomfortable and with assertiveness say, “Now I am going to become what you've always wanted, and you'll never get to have it for yourself.” You look at the stones again and feel the powers of the warrior. The anticipation becomes too much, too pleasurable. You're body is going to become magnificent. You smile at your buddies as they and you anticipate the changes to come. You can feel the amulet almost speaking its power to you as you clutch it in your hands. “You boys ready for this?” you ask your friends, glancing back at Kevin with an evil smile, “fuck yea man!” Jon answers, “let's fuckin do this!” Nate says nothing but nods his head in approval, hoping nothing catastrophic happens to him. You take a few steps back from Kevin and your buddies, enough for a view for all to see and take in. Turning back around you tell them “You know what I always say? If you're gonna go all out, mine as well do it right!” **************************** You slip your fingers under your briefs and feel your hard butt. Slipping your hand to your crotch you position your shrinking boner before casually, slowly push the briefs down to your ankles, bending your knees to get them down your legs before standing back up, showcasing your large and low package as you get completely naked. You pick up the briefs and toss them to Kevin's face as a joke. They slap him and land on the ground. “Trent...” Nate warns, “watch out man...you don't know what that thing can do.” “I know all it can do. And what it will do to me,” you say, staring at the two pieces of rock as you move each one into your right and left hands. “I just need to put them together.” “Hurry up, man!” Jon encourages you in eager anticipation, “let's do this before someone catches you!” Kevin's screams have subsided to sobs as he accepts the unfortunate fate that you will become the warrior and he will be there only to witness. “I can feel the powers beckoning me,” you say, arching your arms above your head you slam the stones together and let go. To your amazement the single amulet floats above your head, exudes a bright white light and begins spinning very quickly. You don't even have time to set your arms down again before the spinning amulet begins spraying bright white electric bolts directly down onto your body, showering you with a wealth of powers your mind had never even comprehended before. “Argh!” you scream as you bend forward, the powers pushing your body involuntarily as they integrate into you. You look down to see yourself rapidly changing, morphing into a new being. Your upper body immediately expands horizontally and vertically as new layers of muscle grow over your already cut body. Pecs grow out as abs form a complete and deep eight pack. Your back snaps back as your shoulders grow outward, new lines of sinew creating an extreme amount of muscular girth. You examine your biceps through the power-ridden light as they too grow out, new layers building upon themselves. Your forearms start to grow hair as it raises up your biceps, into your pits and over your chest. As a treasure trail grows down onto your waistband you feel your adonis belt grow out too, creating a deep V groove as your ass pushes a pronounced bubble butt, rock hard to match your muscular back. Soon your quads grow out as the hair covers them too, creating thick football like muscles over your legs. You look up at the guys and see them still holding Kevin, but all fascinated by the naked beast being born before them. “I'm fucking grooowwwwing! YES!!! HAHA!” the muscular powers are too much, you're overcome by the love of the immortal warrior you are becoming. Soon your most powerful growth hits you as you feel your balls pulling into your body to begin their change. As you feel your testicles rid of your old mortal semen and turn it into something more, you notice the electric powers emerging over you give you bright flashes of transformative attractiveness. You begin to feel and read the minds of those around you, and understand that your witnesses can see you changing too under the bright cloud of power, but they see your mortal body become godlike under the powerful lights that cover you. “Oh YES!!” you shout again as your package begins to weigh down, growing balls matching the growth of your body as your pecker too grows down and becomes large and strong. The sparks of electricity engulfing it only further grows and graces it with the powers of the warrior. As your body begins to finish it's biological and muscular growth the white light begins to darken to a gray, then a black ominous color as it clouds and forms a magnificent and dark energy circle. “Powers...” you say as your voice deepens, knowing what is to come. The amulet descends into you as the powers it bestows shifts from that of muscular growth to that of actual power. Pure, unbridled, supernatural powers. You begin to feel the powers of the amulet as it continues descending toward you. You begin to feel the powers as the cloud finds whatever orifice it can integrate itself as it climbs into your newly formed muscular body. You can feel your friends witness your power gaining as they see the outline of your immortal body through the gray cloud light and electrocute with pure power. Soon your mind leaves the confines of human thinking as you begin to understand everything known and ever known about the universe. As the powers integrate into the vessels that have become your new muscular body, you begin to understand what they do and how you can use and manipulate them. You feel the power of transformation, animate and inanimate, come into you, you feel the power of immortality, to survive not just time but injury of every sort. You feel the power of possession as you can take on whatever form you wish to possess whoever, or whatever, you wish. You feel the powers of mind control and reading, of ultimate stamina, of control of all matter from the subatomic level. You feel the power to share your powers or pass them onto others, or to drain mortals own lifeforce to further grow your own energy and power. You take your last needful breath as your lungs morph into a vessel for your powers, you blink your last organic eyes as they turn into the seeing instruments for the ultimate being. You see from and exist in all directions as you feel your body become a vessel for which to exist in this universe. The amulet itself lodges into your chest as you scream with pleasure “YEEEESSSS!” you scream as your voice deepens to an immense, masculine pleasure. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!” you laugh as you assert your newly born self. “I...AM...POOOOWEEEERRRRRR!” you shout as the black cloud of power bestows you with the last of its light, the last of its electric force and seeps into the amulet now engrained into your chest. With a dramatic and loud air, the cloud seeps into your body and leaves you there, a newly transformed and immortal specimen of the most perfect kind. Still flexing your arms, you lower them and inspect your body. Every inch of it is perfect. You feel the powers within you. The transformation was in fact everything you dreamed and more. You lift your feet and see a burnt imprint on the concrete below, what was leftover from your formation. You lift your head and smile at the three mortals ahead of you. “Oh yea this feels good...” you say, smiling as you take two steps towards them. The three of them are not sure whether to be terrified or in awe, you can feel their thoughts racing in their heads as try to figure out what to do, but they're simply stunned and amazed by the beast before them. You feel Kevin come to his senses as he frees himself from his captors' grip, them too in awe to care about Kevin, and begin to run away. “Where do you think you're going?” you say with a chuckle and, using your mind, you lift his feet off the ground and pull him magically back. He continues to try running but cannot as you drag him back to between your friends, them still inspecting the naked beast before them. “Stay,” you say, and you bend the locker metal to form handcuffs and lock his hands into the metal. “Don't move,” you order, forcing his limbs to become too weak to do anything as he helplessly struggles to undo himself. “Dude,” Jon says taking a step forward, “what...are you?” “I am power,” you answer, feeling his awe of you, “I am the amulet of power, and it is me.” Jon reaches his hand out to touch the amulet, and in doing so he connects to your mind and gets a mortal glimpse as to what it's like to be you. It's too much for him and he grows a large boner under his shorts. “I want it,” he says, staring at the amulet, “give me some of your powers, anything, I'll do anything!” he says, removing his t-shirt and kicking off his own shoes. “Me too!” Nate answers, hypnotized by your beastly body. He steps next to Jon as he removes his gym shorts, showing the excitement under the boxers in the form of a long tent. You know you can transform them into whatever you wish, and you're tempted to feed your power of strength to them. Or you could posses them, or drain them of their own mortal strength. Still thinking like a mortal, Jon looks back up to you, pleaing with his eyes to do anything to gain a chunk of your power. “What do I need to do, man?” asking you desperately, “should I get naked?! Just say it and I'll do it!” Nate adds, “Whatever it takes man, yea, like Jon said, I'll do anything too. I don't need to be everything you are, just a little bit, man, just a little something.” “What do we do with him?” you ask your buddies, pointing to the resigned but terrified Kevin, tethered to the lockers behind them. “Whatever you want, man,” Jon says, distracted by your body. “What do you want to do?! You're the boss now...” You think to yourself, 'the big, bad jock finally got what he wants. I can do anything, do I really give the jocks the powers and we rule? Or do I thank the nerd who allowed me to become this god? And bestow my powers unto him?' You look back to your friends and see their cut and sculpted bodies. These guys worked hard for what they earned, even if they were jerks about it. These guys are capable of being in the state that the powers require, which is unapologetic nudity. These guys are already sculpted and their powers will only further their physique. They can handle the powers better than the nerd, and after receiving the powers they will become prime demi-god servants. You magically release Kevin's shackles and approach him, keeping him weak so he won't run away again. “Look at me,” you say, and he raises his head. “Do you like this body?” you ask. He looks you over and you feel his jealousy and sadness exude. “What do you fuckin think?” he said. “Do you want these powers?” you ask, stern as before. “Fuck you!!” he shouts, spitting on your chest. You laugh. “That's not the way to treat a god, I could have made you immortal.” You heat your chest to evaporate the spit and turn from him, reshackling him in the process. “Okay, friends, time to become demi-gods.” “Alright!” Jon shouts and Nate smiles. “Let's do this!” You turn back around and face everyone, Kevin now struggling again to escape, “this kid wasn't respectful of the warrior I am, time to show him who's boss...” “NOOOO!” Kevin shouts again, but you seal his flesh over his mouth so he cannot speak. “Take um off boys,” you say, “let's gain some powers.” In an equally enthusiastic swoosh, Nate and Jon remove their boxers and kick them to the far side of the room. Their anticipation of the powers they are to gain completely free them from any embarrassment of being nude. “You're gonna be sorry little dude,” Jon says walking close to Kevin and giving him an evil smile. “See you in a minute...” Jon walks back over and holds his arms at his side. “Let's fuckin do this!!” You dissolve yourself into a dark gray steam, dissolving until your body is no longer made of material and exists purely as a cloud of smoke. Equally controlling two waves of the steam, you work your way toward Jon and Nate, standing and ready for you to integrate your powers into them. You crawl over their bodies and up and over their heads, forcing them to turn around for Kevin to witness their transformations. After covering their bodies you begin crawling into all orifices you can find, climbing into their ears, nose, ass crack and pecker. As you crawl through their bodies you leave chunks of powers to integrate into their cells and transform them into the pure-power essence that now comprises your own essence. You withhold from them powers of possession and their own ability to spread powers, simply giving them immortality and the power to transform into any entity and consume the bodies of mortals. But as you leave your essence you control it to integrate into their cells, forcing their muscles to grow outward and become strong, immortal containers for their powers. Kevin watches in fear as the same muscular transformation that just happened to you now happens to two more jocks who are becoming equal to you in looks and stamina. Jon begins laughing at the transformation as his abs grow into an eight pack, his biceps bulk up and his pecs grow out like cannons. “Fuck yea!!” he says, finally able to experience the transformation himself. Nate looks down at his blonde-hair covered legs and see them blow out like footballs, quads increasing in size as he gains more hair as he grabs his package for it to contort and grow to match his growing body. Both jocks laugh as they continue transforming in pure-power pleasure. Their backs crack, muscle grows, their asses grow out into a shapely and rounded bubble of steel, hair grows on their chests and down their treasure trail to their newly formed warrior packages. Their transformations become too much as they grab each other's shoulders their dicks begin to grow. “Ohh!” Nate shouts as pleasure wraps over him. “It's too much!” Jon smiles in pleasure as his balls pull tightly against his huge, muscular body, transforming his package into something otherworldly. You exit their bodies and form back in smoke that floats above the locker room, watching the men continue to change. “HAHAHA!” they maniacally laugh as their bodies infuse their powers and their semen changes to their new godly selves. As their transformations end the naked jocks briefly check themselves out before turning their attention to Kevin. With an evil smile Jon says, “you're our's now, kid.” Kevin's shackles undo and he's lifted by the naked jocks and thrown onto the floor. Nate grabs Kevin's boxers and rips them in half before using his mind to force the nerds onto all fours on the floor. “Please don't do this to me!” Kevin shouts as his glasses are kicked off by Jon's foot. The two jocks smile as they begin tugging their massive dicks. “Time to consume the mortal...” Nate says as the two jocks strattle him on the front and back. “Take it, nerd.” Jon commands as he shoves his dick in his mouth. Nate does the same from the rear and together, in unison, they begin pumping. “You feel that?” Jon asks, smiling, “our seed is going to be a poison to him, as soon as it enters him it'll dissolve him, and his lifeforce will be our's...” “Fuck yea!” Nate says between gasps, “I can feel it coming!” “Yea, heh...” Jon continues, “me toooo. Oh! Fuck yea...3...2...1....” Together they blow their loads right into Kevin, he coughs once or twice but the pressure is too much and his body begins intaking the poison. The jocks keep themselves square on him, not moving an inch as they pump him full of their fatal seed. “Watch him...” Jon whispers as the two jocks look with complete interest on their little lab rat. Kevin's eyes roll back into his head as the black substance begins dripping from his mouth. His mouth opens as more of Jon's seed, a black oily substance leaks out of it. As his eyes roll into his head, leaving dark gaping holes, Kevin's body begins seizing as it shakes short, fast burst of seizure. His back snaps as it liquifies and he begins losing any hard mass that made up his body. His legs and arms give way to liquid, lifeless flab as his weight drastically reduces to a black liquid. The jocks keep his body propped with their hard cocks as the body's skin begins breaking into deep cuts across his back, ass, arms and legs. Oozing out of his body, it completely begins to breakdown into the same black substance he was injected with, running and dripping over his skin before climbing its way back to its owners. “Come to daddy...” Nate whispers as the black oil climbs back over his dick and into his pecker. “Mmm...fuck yea...” Jon whispers as the same happens to him. As the substance travels back into their bodies, the jock's balls begin growing as it takes in the liquid. Then it spreads throughout their bodies, increasing their muscle mass while giving them new levels of stamina they never before thought possible. “OH YEA!” They shout together as the last of the body-turned-liquid climbs back into their own massive bodies. The jocks snap their backs back as they feel the last of it climb into them and open their eyes to see all that's left is themselves. “Oh yea,” Jon says, “we really are the fucking dominating beasts of our time...” As the jocks' dicks die back down to flaccid states, you pull your steam back together into your warrior-like body and make yourself known to them again. “Master,” Jon says, turning to you in his newly formed body, “you've given us the gift of the immortals, what can we do to serve your will...?” You smile before casually answering, “you already have, you have begun consuming the human entity. Now we will consume the humans, procreate, and create our own kind to take over and rule this planet once and for all...”
  13. Check out Parts 1 & 1.1 first to keep track: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2085-muscle-buddies-chapters-1-15/ After making the playoffs at the end of the football season, Jeff wants to come out to the rest of the guys on the team, but Dustin keeps telling him that it isn’t going to help him if he does. After celebrating their last home game with the team, Jeff spends a little bit of time in the locker room having a ‘conversation’ with Dustin. The two studly teens laugh as they horse around near the lockers rolling on the floor and playfully punching each other. Without realizing it, they can hear a deep voice rumbling above them like they are trying to clear their throat. The two young men stop moving and look up at them. The man has a look on his face that makes them wonder if he is mad or not as they stand there with their arms in a dominant stance. The rest of the team has already showered and is leaving the dressing area to go home to prepare for the next game at this point. Dustin jumps to his feet and starts to move away from Jeff but not before the man grabs him by the arm. The man turns to look at him and points to the nearby bench. Dustin goes to sit down immediately afterwards. It turns out that the man is the coach that saw the two teenagers having sex before the football season began. He is also the assistant coach of the football team. The man is incredibly muscled, much larger than he was back when he caught them together. He turns back around and reaches down to pull Jeff up to his feet. The stunned teen is shirtless since he hasn’t yet showered from the game. The coach walks up to him and looks him straight in the eyes before pressing his immense body up against Jeff’s. He knows that the teen has tried to avoid him for weeks because of what happened that night. He grabs Jeff’s hands and puts them on his huge ass which is hugging his tight jeans. Dustin watches intently and even lets out a few moans. The coach grunts a few times before wrapping his arms around Jeff and picking him up. He starts using the muscled teen like a dumbbell curling him and lifting him up and down above his head and directly in front of his face. The man’s groomed beard brushes up against Jeff’s crotch each time to make him react. The coach eventually stops lifting him to watch the young man’s crotch pulse inside his football pants. He leans in to smell Jeff’s musk before running his tongue along the crotch. Dustin knows he should do something, but he finds the whole situation too hot. Jeff isn’t exactly trying to stop the man either since he has had his eye on the coach for as long as the season has gone on. Feeling his own cock stirring in his pants, Dustin gets up to go over and join the other two. He puts his hands around the front of the coach’s chest and pulls on the polo shirt he is wearing, ripping it open down the front which immediately makes the man drop Jeff onto the ground. He turns and yells at Dustin making his huge hairy chest flex as his pecs and abs swell. The force behind the pump makes the sleeves on his shirt shred as his bicep peaks appear through the fabric. Dustin doesn’t get far before he is tackled on the ground by the man. The man tells him to punch him in the chest which Dustin does without a second thought. He laughs and tells him to do it again as it pleases him greatly. He rips the rest of his shirt off and grins as he flexes his upper body again. He forces Dustin to rub his muscles and orders him to say how much he wants his body. Jeff is now scooting behind the coach and rubbing his crotch up against the older man’s ass. The man turns and orders him to take his pants off so he can see how much of a man he is becoming. Without much coaxing, Jeff pulls his pants and jock off to show his engorged cock which has been leaking precum for quite some time. The coach moans as he leans down to swallow the thick pole down his throat. Jeff yells in delight feeling his cock tickling the man’s throat. Dustin reaches underneath and up to unzip the man’s pants to pull them down. The coach’s huge bubble butt stares him in the face as the man’s nine-inch pole dangles towards Dustin’s legs. He pulls the coach down on to his face and shoves his tongue inside the man’s hole making the hugely muscled daddy moan as he continues to work Jeff’s cock over. Knowing that the muscled teen can’t hold out too long, he starts jerking Jeff rapidly as he pulls his cock out and looks up at the teen’s face smiling the whole time. He commands Dustin to keep rimming him as he playfully punches Jeff’s powerful chest with his free hand. Feeling the teen’s balls swelling to twice their size, he runs his tongue along Jeff’s slit hoping to summon the giant load from inside. Jeff can sense the flood moving into his cock and shoves his rod down the coach’s throat which surprises the huge man. He grips the huge teen as Jeff unloads down his throat making the coach moan deeply feeling it fill his insides. Dustin runs his hands along the man’s balls and cock feeling it tense like it is about to explode itself. He stops rimming the coach and slides his body down in time to feel a giant river of cum hitting his face and head. The coach flexes his massive legs and lowers his huge rod down onto Dustin’s mouth trying to get him to open it. He pulls Jeff’s cock out to tell him to do it or he will force him to take it up his ass. After resisting a few seconds, he gulps the hairy muscleman’s cock down and swallows what is left flowing from it. The coach grunts in satisfaction after finally doing what he has fantasized about all this time. He pulls his cock out of Dustin’s mouth and gets up. He pulls up the jeans he was wearing and grabs his shredded shirt before going into the shower area. The two muscled teens stare at each other and wonder what the hell just happened. They both smile before getting up from the locker room floor. Jeff walks over and sits beside Dustin. He leans in to lick the coach’s cum off the teen’s face and moans tasting the spunk before kissing his lover’s lips and holding him in his arms. They both think that their secret is safe with the coach, but they may have to do this again to make sure he keeps it hidden. If you enjoyed this, then read the next two chapters as well: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/2102-muscle-buddies-chapters-2-3/
  14. CrisKane

    The Boost

    Jay's new year's resolution was to get in shape, but it was already late January and he hadn't made much progress. He had always been a spindly beanpole without much interest in sports or working out, and it had never really bothered him much. In fact, he enjoyed having a metabolism that allowed him to eat pretty much any crap he wanted without gaining an ounce. Despite his sunken chest and scrawny arms, his ex-girlfriend had always insisted that she liked "skinny boys". Then again, she always claimed to to like his reddish-brown hair and pale complexion, right up until the day she dumped him for a tall, blond, tanned surfer who looked like he had just stepped off an Abercrombie bag, only he was in color. Jay had discovered one problem with taking up exercise in his mid-twenties was that he had never built up much endurance. Even though he made a concerted effort to get up early each morning to come to the health club before work, he found that his energy waned quickly once he got there. He would plod along on the treadmill for a while before he grew winded and pooped out, sometimes venturing toward the weight machines in a futile attempt to beef up his twig-thin limbs but barely working up enough of a sweat to merit a shower. It didn't do his already low self-esteem much good to start off each day surrounded by the extremely buff dudes who populated the place. Seriously, every guy here looked so jacked, Jay wondered if there was something in the water or a radiation leak. One morning, after a particularly unproductive session, Jay was on his way toward the exit, fondly pondering the sausage and egg biscuit he planned to buy on his way to the office, when he heard the whiz of a blender echoing his direction from the gym's juice bar. Jay realized that he was not helping to reach his fitness goals by stuffing his face with a pile of grease every morning, so he spun around and headed back to grab himself a smoothie. He waited behind a wall of muscle who was practically busting out of his orange stringer tank. With a bleached-blond flat-top, the guy reminded Jay of that Russian boxer from that one "Rocky" movie, just not as oily. He was handed a jumbo styrofoam cup by the guy behind the counter, and pushed his way past Jay without even registering his presence. The counter guy was not as inhumanly built as ol' Flat-Top but annoyingly handsome, with dirty blond hair, riveting blue eyes, a model's cheekbones and a firm jaw upon which he kept a carefully maintained two-day growth of stubble. He crossed his arms, which only highlighted the pump of his biceps and thickness of his pecs. He let loose a gleaming white smile as he saw Jay approach. "Hey, what can I get you, buddy?" Jay jerked a thumb toward the departing steroid case and joked, "I'll have what he's having." The guy behind the counter squinted at Jay uncertainly. "Not sure you could handle what he ordered." Jay decided not to explain that he hadn't been serious and turned his focus to the menu on the chalkboard behind the counter, wondering why all of the drinks had such stupid names. Perhaps just to embarrass the customers when they ordered them? Jay opted for the least cringeworthy flavor. "Can I just get an Orange Delite?" "Sure thing," said the clerk, assembling the ingredients with a flair for showmanship, even tossing a scoop of frozen yogurt from behind his back and over his shoulder, then deftly catching it in the pitcher of the blender. Just before he was ready to mix the concoction together, he paused and glanced back at Jay. "Do you want a boost with that?" Jay shook his head. "Nah, that's okay. I don't think I need one." The guy gave Jay a long look. "Gotta say, you look pretty tired, my man. You could really use something to kick up your energy level a notch." He pointed toward a plastic canister heaped with deep red granules. "What are you talking about, like caffeine or something? I don't want to be jittery at work." The guy waved his hands dismissively. "Nah, this stuff is totally safe, completely natural. Just gives you a pleasant buzz that keeps you revved up all day." When he noticed that Jay was still wincing with uncertainty, the guy sweetened the deal. "Tell you what. I'll toss in a scoop for free today. You come back tomorrow and tell me how you liked it." Jay shrugged. "Well, I guess I can't argue with free!" Before he had even finished the sentence, the guy was dumping a scoop of the red powder into the blender and whipping up Jay's drink. He poured it out and handed it across the counter to Jay, who took a cautious sip. Not only was it delicious, but he felt a definite tingle across his taste buds, a bit like the explosive burst of a mouthful of Pop Rocks. Jay nodded approvingly and handed over the money for the drink. The guy rang up the transaction and placed the change in Jay's palm, grasping his new customer's hand in a firm shake in the process. "I'm Max. Nice to meetcha." Jay swallowed a mouthful of smoothie and gave his name in response. "All right, Jay. Look forward to getting your full report tomorrow!" Jay could feel the first effects of the boost kicking in by the time he reached his car. It was subtle but he definitely sensed an extra spring in his step. By the time he reached work, he was greedily sucking the last drops through his straw. He raced over from the parking lot to hold open the lobby door for Francine, the pretty young receptionist, who was arriving at the same time. Jay had long harbored a bit of a crush on Francine, but he knew she was dating a bearded outdoorsy type who sometimes showed up at the office reeking of Old Spice and B.O. Francine stepped into the elevator and held the door open for Jay, but Jay informed her that he would take the stairs today. In the two years he had worked here, Jay couldn't recall anyone ever mounting the seven flights between the lobby and the office except during a fire drill, but today Jay felt like he had energy to burn. He bounded into the stairwell, taking the steps two or three at a time. When Francine's elevator arrived on seven, Jay was already waiting outside the office suite with his arms folded, trying to look nonchalant and conceal his heavy breathing. Jay volunteered to start the coffee, usually one of Francine's tasks, although he had no need for any himself this morning. He was already sufficiently buzzed from the boost. He sat down at his cubicle and dug into his work, finishing all of his assignments for the day by eleven a.m. He would usually take advantage of a lull by surfing the internet or playing computer solitaire, but he was far too restless. Instead, he roamed the office, asking if anyone had anything he could help them with. Jay's middle-aged boss Henry overheard this and gestured Jay into his office, handing him a thick folder and saying he needed a summary of its contents written up by the end of the day. Jay eagerly grabbed the folder and said he would get right on it. He dove right in, his attention so riveted on the task at hand that he worked straight through lunch, not even taking a break for a snack or a leak. At three o'clock, he brought Henry the finished summary, still warm from the laser printer, then informed Henry of a (non-existent) dental appointment that he had forgotten to mention earlier. Henry was so astonished by Jay's sudden productiveness that he gladly let Jay take the rest of the afternoon off, promising to read through Jay's work overnight. Jay pulled off his necktie as he ran down the seven floors to the lobby. When he stepped outside, he inhaled deeply, relieved to have escaped the stuffy confines of the office. He was still so pumped that he considered heading back to the gym, but decided instead to go to his car and slip on his workout clothes for a quick jog in the nearby park. It was a cool day, but Jay found the brisk air invigorating as he chugged around the running path. He wasn't setting any records -- he barely outpaced an elderly woman out for a stroll with her walker -- but, for the first time in memory, he was honestly psyched to be exercising. He rewarded himself for his productive day by swinging into a sports bar, still sweaty in his black tank top and gray sweat pants, and filling up on Buffalo wings and a pitcher of beer. When he was done, he headed back to his apartment with the intention of catching up on the "Downton Abbey" episodes that were piling up on his DVR, but once he sat down on his sofa, his energy level plummeted. He was dozing in a matter of minutes, not waking until he heard his alarm sounding in the bedroom at 5:30 the following morning. Jay felt miserable, an unholy union of utter exhaustion and the worst hangover of his life. He could barely lift himself off the couch, and crawled his way into the bedroom to shut off the buzzing clock. He was tempted to blow off the gym, but he felt the need to complain to Max about how shitty he felt. At least he was still in his workout clothes and didn't have to expend any effort changing. He stuffed his work clothes into his gym bag and dragged himself out the door. Max spotted Jay the moment he entered the club, an eager smile plastered on his too-perky-for-six-a.m. face. When he noticed Jay's demeanor, Max's expression shifted abruptly to one of concern. "Dude, are you feeling okay?" "No, 'dude', I'm not," Jay said, his voice prickly. "You should have warned me that I'd crash like this." Max cringed. "Ooh, sorry, yeah, I forgot to tell you, the first day does take a lot out of you. But the good news is, the effects are cumulative. The more the boost builds up in your system, the less extreme the drop-off. But tell me about yesterday? Didn't it feel amazing?" Jay couldn't deny how jazzed he had felt throughout the day. "Yeah, it was awesome, just like you promised, but I don't think it's for me. I don't think it's good to be walking around on an artificial high." "Dude, I told you, this shit's a hundred percent natural. Here, let me give you another freebie. See if it peps you up through your workout." Jay began to object, but Max waved a finger his direction. "Uh uh uh, you listen to your old doctor Max here. This is just what you need." Soon, he had whipped up a frothy Orange Delite and was handing it to Jay, who felt it would be impolite to refuse. The moment he took a sip, he felt foolish for hesitating. The cloud of fatigue that had been wearing him down lifted almost immediately. Jay gave Max a thumbs-up, and Max shot back a "told you so" grin. Jay dumped his gym bag in the locker room and polished off the smoothie before heading to the treadmill, where he managed a full thirty-minute sprint without getting winded. He then made his way to the weight machines and found himself easily lifting weights that were overtaxing him the week before. They were still comparatively miniscule, and he felt embarrassed each time he stepped into rotation with some top-heavy lifter and had to reduce the stack by a full hundred pounds before he did his set, but by his own standards, he had made a remarkable improvement. He could honestly feel his muscles growing tight, and between sets, he focused his attention on the guys around him, studying their movements for tips on improving his form. Jay was so wrapped up in his workout that he didn't even notice the time until he glanced at a clock that read 7:45. He couldn't believe he had been exercising for close to two hours. Although he normally would have become frantic at the realization that he was now unavoidably late for work, Jay felt remarkably unperturbed. There was nothing he could do about it, he told himself, so why stress out over something he couldn't change? Instead, he took a luxurious shower, dressed himself slowly, and stopped by the smoothie bar on his way to the exit. "I think I'll try the Choco-Mocha Loco," he declared to Max. "With a boost." Max looked at him skeptically. "Another boost? On top of the one you already had." "I feel like I burnt off a lot of that in my workout. I wanna keep this feeling going." "Oh-kay. You're the boss." Max set about gathering the ingredients. "But no more freebies, okay? I insist on paying for this one. So, how much will it be?" "Large smoothie is $7.99. Boost is another ten. So, $17.99." Jay gulped, surprised to discover that he was about to pay eighteen bucks for a friggin' milkshake. Then again, ten dollars seemed like a bargain for the feeling the boost gave him. He gladly forked over a twenty, putting the change into Max's tip jar. Max smiled appreciatively and handed Jay his drink. With a second scoop of the powerful substance surging through his veins, Jay felt ecstatic. He took the stairs again, bursting with so much energy that he overshot the seventh floor by five flights before he realized his mistake. He strode into the office with absolute confidence, and rather than ducking the wrath of his boss, he walked straight into Henry's office and said, "Sorry for being late." "What?", said Henry, glancing up from his schmeared onion bagel, spitting particles of cream cheese onto his desk. "Oh, no problem. Listen, Jay, hell of a job on that summary. Really impressive." "Thank you, Henry," responded Jay with an uncharacteristically cocky grin. "I'm glad to see you showing some initiative." Henry studied his employee curiously. "What's different about you? You lose weight or something?" Jay barked a laugh. "With MY body? I sure hope not. But I have been working out every morning." "Oh. That must be it," Henry said with a nod. "The wife keeps telling me I should get in shape, but..." Henry shrugged and slapped his palm across his expansive belly. The resulting concussion echoed around the room. "Maybe you'll have to let me in on your secret." Jay just smiled and went to his cubicle, eager to dive into work. But unlike the previous day, Jay found it hard to stay focused on his tasks, as his thoughts kept drifting back to how good that morning's workout had felt. He squirmed in his chair, the words on his computer screen blurring into gobbledygook. His palms grew clammy, and drops of sweat beaded up on his forehead. He popped his top shirt button and loosened his necktie, feeling straitjacketed in his Oxford shirt and Dockers. He slogged through his assignments the best he could, but he found himself longing to get back outside. Maybe he could go for another run at lunchtime. He ducked out for lunch twenty minutes early, changed clothes in the car and hit the running path, vowing to take it easy but soon finding himself taking long strides and whizzing past other joggers. He wondered why he hadn't taken up running when he was in high school, as he was finding the adrenalin rush addictive. He loved the feel of his hair blowing in the breeze, the cool air rushing past his skin, the envious glares of the slowpokes he was passing. When he returned to his cubicle, munching on a power bar from the vending machines, he was drenched in sweat, still wearing his tank and sweats. He had hoped that the run would clear his mind, but he had even more trouble grasping what he was reading than he had in the morning. Besides that, he was distracted whenever he glanced down at his arms, which shone with perspiration and still retained their pump from that morning's workout. He kept flexing his arms, unable to get enough of the sight of stony biceps rising in rigid semicircles beneath his skin. He was in the middle of checking himself out when he noticed Henry out of the corner of his eye, hovering at the entrance of the cubicle. "Yeah, Henry, what can I do you for?" Henry looked uncomfortable as he whispered, "It's nothing personal. It's just that...some of the other employees are complaining." "What about?", asked Jay, swiveling back and forth. Henry leaned closer, but backed off, wincing. "It's just that you...you kinda stink." "Really?" Jay lowered his nose toward his armpit. He definitely detected a musky scent, but he kinda liked it. "Sorry, I went running over lunch." "Yeah, about that. I'm all for you getting fit and everything, but this really isn't proper office attire," he said, waving his hands toward Jay's tank, sweats and sneakers. "Well, I woulda showered if we had the facilities, but..." Jay shrugged his rounder-than-usual shoulders. "I couldn't exactly put on my office clothes and smell 'em up." "Yeah, I know. Look, don't worry about it for today, but how about from now on, you restrict your workouts to before and after work?" Jay wasn't sure he could endure a whole workday without breaking for exercise, but Henry had always been a decent guy and treated him well, so Jay agreed. For the rest of the afternoon, Jay continued to struggle with his work. He knew what he was doing was routine, the sort of stuff he could usually breeze through, but his heart just wasn't in it today. He handled what he could, but his attention drifted further as the day dragged on. When five o'clock hit, he left a few folders in his inbox so he could tackle them in the morning when his mind was fresh. On his way out, he couldn't help but notice that Felicia couldn't keep her eyes off him as he strode through the outer office, his bare arms swinging at his sides. He found himself winking at her, which felt odd. He'd never been a winking kind of guy, but it just felt right all of a sudden. It warmed his heart when she smiled back. Jay swung by Whole Foods on the way home, stocking up on groceries more appropriate for his new regimen. Once he got home, he whipped up some grilled chicken and settled in at his computer. After glancing at his emails and Facebook, his gaze drifted to the file which held the bookmarks for his favorite porn sites, but he found that nothing was holding his interest for long. Instead, all he could think about was getting back into the gym in the morning. He searched online for tips that would make his workouts more productive and grew envious of the shredded models on all of the fitness sites. He stripped off his tank and stared in the bathroom mirror, disappointed that the modest gains he had seen during the day had all but faded away. He chided himself. "What the fuck did you expect? You work out for one day and suddenly you're the Rock?" He switched off the computer and flopped into bed before eight o'clock, totally wiped out. When his hand slammed onto the buzzing alarm clock at 5:30, Jay felt weary but, just as Max promised, not quite as miserable as he had been the morning before. Today, however, he had no hesitations about heading into the gym. There was no way he could get through another day without a little boost. Or two. "Two?", Max asked. "You sure you can handle that much?" "I did two yesterday and I was fine," Jay told him, writing off his distractedness on the job as part of getting acclimated to his new routine. Jay consciously puffed out his chest so it better filled his crisp white tank, knowing he still had a lot of hard work ahead of him if he ever hoped to get as toned as Max, let alone the more shredded adonises parading around the gym. He was almost giddy as he slid twenty-eight dollars across the counter to cover his Razzleberry Extreme, slipping Max an extra five for a tip. He guzzled his drink so quickly that an ice-cream headache pierced his brain. As he waited for the cold-induced agony to subside, Jay reminded himself, "No pain, no gain." Jay didn't have to wait long for the rush of the boost to kick in, and soon his legs were flying on the treadmill. He pushed himself to forty-five minutes, unsure whether to attribute his euphoria to the boost or to the "runner's high" he'd heard so much about all these years but was experiencing for the first time. At any rate, he was thoroughly pumped when he finally stepped off the treadmill and, instead of using the weight machines, decided to wander over to the free weights, where the serious bodybuilders congregated. Jay held his shoulders back as he approached the dumbbells, attempting to hoist a pair of sixties before realizing they were far too heavy for him. He worked his way down the rack, testing each lower weight unsuccessfully until he finally managed to budge the thirty-pounders. As he strained to curl them, he heard a lumbering voice from behind him. "You're not doin' it right." Jay glanced in the mirror and saw the guy with the blond flat-top looming behind him, his absurdly jacked muscles fully visible in his black mesh tank. Flat-Top waddled closer on his bloated legs and gripped Jay's upper arms, adjusting their positions. "Try that. And do each rep slower. You'll feel the burn more." "Uh...thanks," Jay said. He raised his right arm gradually, immediately noticing the difference. He glanced into the mirror and nodded appreciatively. The big guy just smiled back and walked over to a 200-pound barbell, which he hoisted over his head with a scream and a grimace. Jay became completely engrossed in his workout, his attention focused intently on the effect each exercise was having on its targeted muscle group. Flat-Top would stroll past from time to time to check on him or offer advice on proper form. Two days ago, Jay couldn't have imagined ever talking to this guy, but now he felt, if not accepted, at least tolerated, despite the vast disparity between their physiques. On one such pass, Flat-Top leaned close to Jay and murmured conspiratorially into his ear, "So, you on the boost?" Jay was flustered, nearly letting the weights slip from his hands. How did the guy know? "Uh, yeah, maybe, a little," he said with an apologetic tone. "Ain't it awesome?", asked Flat-Top, flashing a gap-toothed grin that made the he-man look momentarily like a goofy kid expressing his excitement over a new Christmas toy. Jay nodded, then turned his attention back to his triceps, pausing mid-curl when he had a sudden realization. Flat-Top must be on the boost too! After all, the first time Jay had noticed Flat-Top, he was getting a smoothie from Max, one that Max had said was too much for Jay to handle. Holy shit, how much of the stuff must it take to get as ripped as Flat-Top? Just the thought that he might eventually grow to such a massive size was enough to stiffen Jay's cock in his sweats. He was relieved that they were too baggy for his hard-on to be noticeable. He found himself wondering if the boost had the same notorious shrinking effect on your junk as steroids. He was satisfied with the answer he got from glancing in the mirror at Flat-Top's reflection, as a zucchini-sized lump was clearly outlined by his body-hugging compression shorts. Jay shook his head to get the visual out of his mind, wondering how he had reached the point where he was checking out other guys' bulges. Jay thought it could be wishful thinking, but he could swear that his arms were looking heftier. His shoulders looked distinctly round, a marked change from their usual boniness, and that telltale weightlifter's vein was now faintly visible over the surface of each of his biceps. This only encouraged him to keep pushing himself, moving up to heavier weights with each set. Logically, he ought to be feeling fatigued, but surprisingly his stamina seemed to be growing the longer he worked out. He was so engrossed in lifting that, before he knew it, it was closing in on ten a.m. How was it possible that he had spent four hours at the gym? He knew he couldn't simply waltz into the office two hours late without facing repercussions. Plus, he really was not in the mood to spend the rest of his day imprisoned in that cubicle. Jay headed to the locker room and checked his cell phone, which had three missed messages from Henry. He didn't even bother to listen to the messages before he dialed his boss. Henry sounded exasperated when he picked up, demanding to know why Jay hadn't called him back sooner. Jay spoke hoarsely, his voice sounding even deeper than he had planned to make his ruse sound authentic. "I'm sorry, Henry. I woke up in the middle of the night with a terrible head cold, so I slammed some NyQuil and I musta shut off my ringer, 'cause I didn't hear any of your calls come in. I really don't think I can make it in today." Henry paused before reluctantly saying, "Okay. Take it easy and feel better. But from now on, you leave your phone on. A bunch of us here were worried about you." Jay smirked. Yeah, I bet "a bunch of you" were worried. He thought of the way Henry had asked about his weight and had seemed so nervous when Jay was wearing his tank in the office the day before. He wondered if Henry was checking him out. He knew Henry was married and all, but that didn't mean shit. Jay chuckled. As if he would be interested in some old, out-of-shape guy like Henry when he was surrounded by so many hotter, younger guys at the gym. Jay hung up, delighted that he now had the whole day ahead of him. He was tempted to go back on the floor and lift some more, but surely four hours was plenty for one day. A nice, long shower sounded tempting, so Jay stripped down, wrapped a towel around his waist and headed toward the shower room. Rounding the corner, he immediately collided with someone. "Oh, sorry, dude," said a familiar voice. Jay took a step back and realized it was Max, totally naked. As fit as Max looked fully clothed, it was nothing compared to seeing every facet of his finely-wrought musculature on display. His skin seemed to be shrink-wrapped around every curve of his well-defined muscles, without a trace of a tan line. Max took a long look at Jay and said, "Whoa, Jay-man, look at you! I guess you COULD handle two scoops!" As Jay looked down bashfully, he noticed just how pumped he had gotten from his long workout. His whole body seemed to have swollen, and a cleft had developed down the center of his abdomen, branching out to the sides in the beginnings of a six-pack. "Yeah, I guess so," Jay said, his voice still surprisingly raspy. He felt his erection rising, tenting his towel enough that Max must have noticed it. "Very impressive," Max said, placing his palm over Jay's shoulder and sliding it down until his thumb grazed the slope of his biceps and his fingers wrapped around Jay's triceps. Jay's first instinct was to pull his arm away from this unwanted contact, but for some reason he didn't mind Max's touch. He noticed Max's unencumbered cock growing plump and tilting slightly upwards. Jay's brain struggled to comprehend the possibility that a seemingly regular dude like Max might be turned on by guys or, even more unbelievably, might be turned on by Jay. "I gotta go," said Jay, unconvincingly, his voice cracking as if puberty were reasserting itself a decade late. He tried to step away, but Max maintained a firm grip on his arm. "Do you? Really?" Max flashed his winning smile and his blue eyes locked in on Jay. "'Cause I could swear I just heard you calling in sick." Max's hand grazed across Jay's pecs, then down his rudimentary abs until his fingers came to rest along the edge of Jay's towel. Jay's breath grew shallow, while his pulse raced. Goddamn, he realized, Max looked even more handsome at such close proximity. Although Jay was straight, he couldn't deny the attraction he was feeling for Max at that moment. It occurred to Jay that Max wasn't just a good-looking guy, he was objectively prettier than any of the women Jay had ever dated. While Jay couldn't really understand the strange feelings he was experiencing, they were strong and impossible to ignore. He stood frozen in place, unsure what to do next. Max handled the decision making, taking Jay by the hand and dragging him into the sauna. He shut the door behind them and posted a "closed for maintenance" sign to keep out intruders. The dry heat was making Jay lightheaded. His knees buckled, but Max kept a firm grip on Jay's hands to keep him from falling down. Max yanked the towel away from Jay's waist and smiled approvingly at the sight of Jay's bobbing erection. Although Max couldn't be sure how well-endowed Jay had been before starting the boost, he hadn't possessed the swagger and confidence one would normally expect from someone packing such a hefty slab of meat between his legs. Besides, Max had seen the boost's effects first-hand so many times that he could easily identify its exquisite handiwork. Jay's eyes were glazing over as Max leaned close to his ear and whispered, "Don't be afraid. This is all perfectly natural." At the sound of those words, the final shreds of Jay's resistance melted away and he surrendered to his physical desires. He cupped his hands around Max's bristly cheeks and planted a succulent kiss on Max's soft lips. Jay's cock indicated its approval by tilting toward the ceiling and oozing out a dollop of cum. Max cupped and fondled Jay's balls as his tongue migrated into Jay's mouth. Max guided Jay to one of the wooden benches along the side of the room, gently pushing him downward to a seated position so Jay was at eye level with Max's rigid cock. Jay began to salivate at the sight of it hovering right in his face. He gazed up, his eyes silently pleading for permission. Max just nodded, and Jay leaned forward, lips open as he slid the other man's rock-hard dick inside his mouth. Jay had never done this before but, to quote Max, it felt perfectly natural. Max stroked his hands through Jay's thick brown hair, clutching its strands and gently sliding Jay's head back and forth. He had known on first sight that Jay would be an excellent target for the boost. Anyone who radiated that much shyness and insecurity would be much more receptive to the radical changes brought about by the boost. Max knew that the powder's rapid results had an addictive allure which would quickly leave Jay craving more. He had also known that the boost's most notorious side effect would soon permanently alter Jay's deepest desires, just as it had for so many before him, such as Chuck, the behemoth who Jay thought of as "Flat-Top". Three weeks ago, Chuck had been even shorter and meeker and more frail than Jay had been. Now Chuck had undergone a total transformation into a ferocious muscle beast who, when he wasn't pumping iron, spent his days prowling the city, attempting to quench his insatiable desire for dick and discovering that someone as shredded as he had become didn't need to search for very long to find a willing partner. And then there was Max himself. Max had been a collegiate swimmer engaged to his high-school girlfriend when he was first exposed to the boost five years ago while seeking a safe, legal substance that would give him an edge in the pool. He quickly succumbed to its allure, exploding with two hundred pounds of solid muscle before plunging off the deep end into a lost weekend of cock-centric debauchery that lasted six months. When he finally bottomed out three years ago, turning tricks and committing petty thefts for the sole purpose of scrounging up the money for his next hit of the red stuff, he was befriended by a dashing young businessman who took Max into his home and nursed him back to health. His benefactor gradually cut back Max's intake of the boost to a maintenance level that sustained the trim, nicely-proportioned physique Max now sported and set Max up with a job behind the smoothie counter at a local gym that he owned. Max figured he owed the businessman his life and was willing to do anything for him, even if it meant luring new customers into using the boost, despite what Max knew personally of the consequences of excessive use. Easily half of the club's clientele had been turned onto the boost by Max, and they owed their hard bodies and ravenous sexual appetites to it. Max had long suspected that his mysterious guardian was also the manufacturer of the boost, since he could get his hands on unlimited quantities any time he wished, but Max felt powerless to say anything. If he didn't do as he was told, his supply could be cut off immediately and he would once again be back on the streets, doing whatever it took for his next boost. Jay, of course, knew none of this. He just knew that nothing had ever turned him on as much as feeling Max's mighty meat against his tongue. Jay wrapped a free hand around his own cock, stroking it furiously, the pre-cum euphoria already more dizzying than any full-blown orgasm he had experienced. He felt something warm and viscous squirt against the roof of his mouth, followed by a larger blast which shot straight down his throat. Jay nearly gagged, but kept sliding Max's shaft between his lips as it throbbed in rhythm, pumping out so much cum that it began to dribble out the corners of Jay's mouth and trickle down his chin. Jay's cock fired off a torrent of jizz which squirted upwards onto Max's taut abs and dripped downward, sizzling as it hit the sauna's hot wooden slats. Jay leaned back his head, spent but satisfied. His smiled blissfully, unaware that the boost was deadening any parts of his brain which didn't immediately involve what would become his new twin obsessions, working out and fucking guys. By now, Max knew how to spot all the signs of this final stage of the transformation. Tension evaporated from the body, leaving the user feeling completely chill, even in a sauna. This total relaxation relaxed the facial muscles, which not only made the user happier and feel more at ease but inevitably made them look more handsome too. Finally, the eyes intensified in the vibrancy of their color, while the light behind those eyes noticeably dimmed. Max still retained a faint memory of having been smarter once, but he never could recall exactly what kind of information used to clutter up his mind. Whatever it was, he never seemed to miss it. His interests may have narrowed, but the absence of intellectual distractions let him devote his full concentration to his body's more elemental cravings. Max looked down at Jay with a kindly grin. "Did you like that?" Jay tilted his head up, his lovely face beaming dopily. "For sure!", he replied. His brain felt pleasantly fuzzy, like his skull was filled with cotton candy. Noticing the trail of cum still trickling down Max's torso, Jay leaned forward and placed his tongue on Max's salty skin. He gradually rose to his feet, licking up the mixture of his own cum and Max's sweat as his tongue navigated over the bumps of Max's abs and the smooth crevasse between his pecs. When he reached his full height, Jay discovered that he was now eye-to-eye with Max and nearly as ripped. There was nothing better than being a big strong guy, thought Jay, aside from fucking a big strong guy. Max unlocked the sauna door and led Jay into the shower room, so they could clean off. Jay took particular delight in lathering Max's body and scrubbing him down. Returning to the locker room, Jay sat down beside his locker, struggling to remember his combination. When he finally managed to open it, he pulled out his work clothes, but the sleeves of his shirt were now far too narrow to accommodate his thickly-muscled arm. He managed to insert most of one forearm before the seam split loudly. "What are you doin', man?", Max asked. "Aren't you gonna work out today?" Jay puzzled over that, realizing Max was right. What was he thinking, coming to the gym and then forgetting to work out? Man, he sure was feeling dumb lately. He wriggled free from his ruined dress shirt and began to pull a white tank top over his head, but even that was too constraining for his broad chest. "Looks like you need some new clothes, my friend. Tell you what, I'll take you shopping after we're done working out." It just so happened that one of Max's benefactors' business was a big-and-tall menswear store, and Max had brought them dozens of loyal customers over the years. He tossed Jay an XXL shirt and roomy basketball shorts. "Here, you can wear these for now." Before working out, Jay insisted on getting a double-boost smoothie, indicating no memory that he had already had two boosts that morning. Jay ducked behind the counter at the juice bar and whipped up a Pina Cool-ada, handing the cup across the counter and saying to Jay, "That'll be fifty bucks." That seemed kinda pricey to Jay, but he couldn't honestly remember what he had paid before. All he knew was he desperately needed that boost in order to achieve the results he desired. He didn't have enough cash, so he put it on his debit card. As Max knew better than most, once you were hooked on the boost and chasing that rush, no price was too high. The key, his mentor had taught him, was to charge the maximum amount possible without drawing undue attention to your actions. There was a reason the boost wasn’t officially on the menu board and was never rung up on the register. Jay slammed down the drink in a single gulp, then roared, "Let's fuckin' do this, bro." He gave Max a fist bump, then he marched purposefully toward the free weights. Max followed behind, admiring the way Jay's new muscles rebalanced themselves in an intricate dance with each stride and the way his prominent glutes bounced inside his shorts. Jay and Flat-Top alternated sets, egging on each other to ever-increasing weights. Flat-Top was already impossibly shredded, and Jay seemed determined to catch up to him as fast as possible. Max hung back, sporadically doing a few light curls to keep himself toned but not overdoing it, knowing that moderation was the key to preventing him from relapsing. He was happy with his physique, although he could still appreciate the sight of others pushing themselves to the max. When Jay went into work the next morning, he brought with him a box full of free smoothies, compliments of the gym. He wore a white polo shirt which snugly hugged the contours of his torso and cargo shorts which showed off the sinewy bulges of his calves, eliciting stares of wonder and gasps of disbelief from his co-workers. They wouldn't be his co-workers for long, as Jay already planned to submit his resignation. He no longer had any interest in his job and, although he didn't realize it, had lost the intellectual capacity to do it effectively any more. No, he planned to spend his days at the gym from now on, hanging out with his new buddies and perfecting his bod. The other guys at the gym had been very cool and welcoming to him, even though he still had lots of work to do before he was quite in their league. Jay wasn't worried about no longer having a salary, because Max had said he would cover Jay's expenses, including the hundred dollars he owed for every boosted smoothie he drank. All Jay had to do in return was recruit new members into the gym and sing the praises of the boost. That shouldn't be a problem for someone as uninhibited and outgoing as Jay, who rarely talked about anything other than the gym. He was literally a walking, talking billboard for the results that could be achieved there, with a brand new tattoo of the gym's name arching across his traps. Jay walked into Henry's office and placed a large smoothie in the middle of his desk. "You wanted to know my secret? There it is!" Henry looked at the drink, then up at Jay, who had somehow grown phenomenally during his "sick day". The face was still recognizable, although somehow more handsome, perched atop his thickened neck and broad bodybuilder's physique. Henry's jaw hung slack, speechless. "Go ahead," Jay's voice boomed as he gestured toward the drink. "Trust me, you'll love it." Noticing Henry's hesitation, Jay said, "Don't worry, man. It's totally natural." Henry found it impossible to defy the commanding figure hovering on the other side of his desk. He took a cautious sip. It was definitely tasty. And it had an indefinable zing that sent a charge through his body the second it hit his tongue. He was impressed. "Mmm. I think I could get hooked on this." Jay grinned. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. He could already envision Henry's gut melting away, his double chin vanishing, his wrinkles fading, his comb-over filling in... Why, give Henry enough boost and he could be downright fuckable. Francine sidled up beside Jay, gently pressing her hand against his upper arm. "Think I could get one of those, Jay?", she asked with a slight purr in her voice. "Sorry," Jay said, looking down with mock regret. "I only brought enough for the guys." * * * Jay escorted his former boss Henry into the health club like a proud tour guide showing a foreign dignitary around the White House. Henry was awestruck -- not by the building, which was a bit run-down and grungy, at least compared to the slick and sanitary big-name chain gym his wife had bought him a membership to a few years ago (and which he visited a handful of times before deciding he was a lost cause). No, what caught Henry's eye was the clientele. He was practically getting whiplash noticing all of the stunningly well-muscled guys circulating around him. The place was hard-body heaven. Henry only had a single boosted smoothie the day before, a freebie that Jay had given him at the office, and his response was essentially the same as Jay's after his first one. Henry had become incredibly energetic and productive on the job, his instincts keener and reflexes sharper than he had ever experienced. Even colors and sounds seemed more vivid than usual. This was followed by a wave of overwhelming fatigue that set in with a vengeance around suppertime. All afternoon, the rejuvenated Henry had hoped to surprise his wife Diane with an uncharacteristically vigorous night in the sack, powered by his sudden surge of virility, but he was already snoring on the sofa before Vanna lit up a single letter on "Wheel Of Fortune". Diane dutifully dragged her near-comatose hubby into the bedroom and hooked him up to his sleep apnea machine, where he remained deep in slumber until dawn. So much for romance. When he awoke in the morning and stumbled bleary-eyed into the bathroom, seeing his reflection in the mirror was a crushing reality check. He may have felt like a dynamo the day before, but staring back at him in the mirror was his familiar 46-year-old self, with sagging jowls, an ample gut, and graying strands stretching desperately from one ear to the other in a valiant but unsuccessful attempt to create the illusion of a full head of hair. He may have felt like a million dollars yesterday, but this morning his body would be lucky to fetch twenty bucks on Craigslist. And that would only be for the chemicals. Henry's brain was about as functional as a six-pound wad of bubble gum, so when he first heard the doorbell, he had no clue who could possibly be paying him a visit at six a.m. In his bathrobe and slippers, Henry shuffled to the front door, where his former employee Jay stood in a blue tank top and ripped jeans, jacked arms arcing outward like steroid-fueled parentheses at his sides, bountiful bangs descending across his forehead. "Ready to get pumped?", Jay asked enthusiastically, reminding Henry that he had agreed to come to Jay's gym for a complimentary workout. Henry attempted to weasel out, claiming extreme exhaustion, but Jay insisted that Henry's attitude would change once he actually got there. What finally changed Henry's mind was the promise of another smoothie like the one he had so enjoyed yesterday. He hastily tossed a plain white t-shirt, sweatpants and his grass-stained lawn-mowing sneakers into a paper bag, kissed his dozing wife on the cheek, and followed Jay's car to the health club. Entering the club, Henry figured he must be the oldest man in the place by a wide margin. He knew he was twenty years older than young Jay, and Jay had grown even more youthful-looking since he had started coming here. Henry had been amazed by how swiftly Jay had transformed, with the meek and anemic non-entity from the office exploding practically overnight into the strapping, confident stud now preening beside him. He didn't expect those kind of results, but if there was even a chance that this place could help Henry lose a few pounds or look a smidgen younger, he wanted in on the secret. Jay led his new recruit to the juice bar, where Henry saw the dazzlingly rugged Max standing at his post, dipping as he leaned back against a shelf, sneaking in a few reps as he worked to keep his triceps in top condition. Jay was sure that Max would be pleased that his first recruit was such a potential gold mine. Thanks to an errant accounting document that was left in a copy machine and promptly circulated throughout the office, Jay knew Henry's exact income down to the penny. Given Henry's pedestrian wardrobe, ten-year-old compact car, and modest suburban home, Jay knew Henry must have socked most of that salary away in savings. Now that Henry's first taste of the boost had lit the flames of a desire to become hunkier, he could afford to pay handsomely to achieve handsomeness. Although Max had been excited when Jay texted him that he had "reeled in a big fish", Max was less enthusiastic now that he saw Henry in the sagging flesh. He wasn't a lost cause by any means. If you looked past the wear-and-tear of parenting and a half-century of a sedentary desk job, there were still traces which suggested that Henry was probably a decent-looking guy in his youth. But at middle age, Henry was, to put it charitably, a fixer-upper. Sort of like New Orleans, post-Katrina. For this kind of heavy lifting, Max knew that even the boost would need a boost. "Henry, this is my main man Max," Jay boomed proudly, gesturing toward the man who manned the blenders. "Just tell him what flavor you want and he'll mix you up another one of those incredible smoothies." Henry would definitely need something to perk him up if he was actually going to exercise at this godforsaken hour. He surveyed his options on the blackboard behind Max's head with the worried gaze of someone scanning the menu for something suitably bland and recognizable on their first visit to a Botswanan restaurant. "Is the Peach Perfection any good?" "What part of 'Perfection' don't you understand?", asked Max with a charming grin that put Henry at ease. Henry watched as the master tossed together a combination of peaches, frozen yogurt, skim milk, and a scoop of some kind of red powder. He excused himself to the back room and returned carrying a fistful of what looked a bit like cranberries, only they were a deep, inky black. "What are those?", asked Henry warily. Max just shrugged impishly and winked. "Mystery ingredient." With the press of a button, the berries were obliterated into tiny bits swirling through the frothy liquid. After thirty seconds, Max poured the results into a cup and handed it to Henry, who took a cautious sip. He definitely recognized the enticing tingle he had experienced from the previous day's sample, but also detected something extra, something intoxicating that seemed to go straight to his head. The mystery ingredient, no doubt, as he'd never gotten that kind of ecstatic rush from a peach before. Henry nodded his approval and pulled out his wallet. "Delicious! How much do I owe you?" "That'll be ten dollars today." Henry had no idea that the key word in that sentence was "today". Max's rates for his smoothies were notorious fluid, varying from customer to customer, but he knew to start out low with a newcomer. As their need for the stuff grew more urgent, prices had a curious tendency to skyrocket. Henry didn't flinch at the price, although his tightfisted nature showed itself with the twenty-five cent piece he dropped in Max's tip jar. Max just smiled politely and said, "Thank you," knowing that Henry would soon be coughing up the Benjamins once his craving for the boost became sufficiently desperate. Jay ordered a double-boosted Banana-Rama Ding-Dong, which Max happily put on Jay's account. Henry was relieved that the locker room was empty as he changed into his workout clothes. He tugged at the hem of his extra-large t-shirt, embarrassed that it failed to cover the entirety of his gut, and he hastily wiggled his pale, pudgy legs into his sweatpants. In his peripheral vision, he noticed Jay pulling on a newly-purchased, form-fitting sleeveless tee which left no question about how toned every inch of his upper body had become. Stripping off his jeans, Jay revealed a surprisingly hefty cock, flopping freely in the absence of underwear. He shimmied a pair of compression shorts over his thickly muscled thighs and stuffed his dong inside. Studying himself admiringly in the mirror, Jay twisted his body in an amateur's approximation of warm-up stretches. "Ready, Henry?", he asked with a sparkle in his eyes. Until this recent metamorphosis, Henry had always assumed that Jay was straight, but the young man was now sending off a barrage of signals that even the ordinarily gay-blind Henry could detect. Diane frequently teased Henry about his adorably naive shock whenever some "OB-viously" gay movie star would come out of the closet. Henry always figured he just wasn't hip enough to pick up the signs. Besides, as an overweight middle-aged office manager, he didn't figure he was in much danger of finding himself on the receiving end of unwanted advances from Doogie Howser any time soon. Henry and Jay began their workouts on side-by-side treadmills. "Just start off slow and find your pace. Don't worry about keeping up with me," Jay advised, the voice of several days' experience. "Not much chance of that," Henry chuckled with self-deprecation as he struggled to figure out the control panel. He hadn't seriously jogged since sometime in college, so he was anticipating nothing more than a leisurely stroll, but as he gradually picked up speed, so did the boost surging in his veins. As his feet thudded on the conveyor belt, his belly and man-boobs jiggled like cranberry sauce with each step. He watched enviously as Jay's long legs whipped back and forth, his blindingly-white Nikes making only brief contact with the treadmill during each stride. Henry focused his energies and chugged onward, mentally setting himself the seemingly impossible goal of someday being able to keep up with the kid. After a blistering thirty-minute dash during which he had become lost in the techno music flowing through his earbuds, Jay cooled down to a trot. He had glanced over periodically to check on Henry's progress, impressed that the old guy had stuck it out so long. Grimacing with determination, Henry was still lumbering along, his cheap t-shirt clinging to his skin, rendered nearly transparent by the sweat pumping from his pores. "Great job, Henry! You've definitely earned a shower." Henry panted and shook his head, splattering the treadmill console with a cloudburst of perspiration. "I'm gonna...keep going...some more," he blurted out between gasps for air. "You done plenty, man. You don't hafta prove anything to me," Jay said reassuringly. "It's...not...for...you," Henry panted, pointing his thumb toward his chest. Jay was impressed by Henry's commitment, and even more awestruck by the powerful properties of the boost that could be giving Henry such endurance. He strolled over to the juice bar to inform Max of Henry's stick-to-it-ive-ness. "Not surprised," Max said softly. "He's got a lot of youthful energy to keep him going." Jay wasn't as quick a thinker as he used to be, but he caught Max's implication. "What, you mean the berries? Why, what do they do?" Max just stared into the distance, with no intention of explaining further. Jay grew pissed. "You mean you got somethin' good and you're holdin' out on me? How come?" Max muttered so only Jay could hear him. "Because you don't need it. Your buddy Henry's got two decades of road miles on him that you don't. So unless you have a desperate urge to return to your glory days of being a five-year-old, you'll steer clear of the berries." That stern warning was enough to make Jay back off. He was too in love with his body and his life to mess with anything dangerous. Except for more of the boost, of course. Jay ordered a Strawberry Chia Forever with a single boost, just enough to recharge him up for a session of pumping iron in the free-weight pit. Jay swelled with pride as he watched his protruding veins snake across his buff arms while he did curls. Seeing his massive quads stretch the elasticity of his clinging shorts, he knew that his devotion to leg crunches was paying off. In the dim chronology of his boost-warped mind, he took it for granted that he'd been perfecting his body as a gym rat for years and would have howled with laughter if anyone had informed him that he had been thin as a twig just four days ago. Although not everyone at the gym was on the boost, those who were lived in a strictly A.B. world -- After Boost. It was as if their lives before encountering the miracle powder had never happened or were, at best, a faint memory from long ago, quite literally another life. They had quit their jobs, they had drifted away from family and loved ones, and they defined themselves not by who they had been but by what they had become. After an hour of heavy lifting alongside his ripped buddy Flat-Top, Jay grew curious about Henry. He couldn't believe that Henry would have left without at least swinging by to thank Jay. To Jay's surprise, Henry was still plowing forward on that same treadmill. He even seemed to have gained steam, moving more briskly than before, mopping his abundant sweat with a soaked towel. Jay brought over a fresh towel and a bottled water, which Henry took appreciatively without slowing his pace. "Jeez, man, take a break. It's not like you hafta get in shape TODAY!", Jay said, although that appeared to be exactly what was happening. Henry was still husky but had easily sweated off fifteen pounds, and his eyes burned with determination to keep the process going. He even looked a bit younger, although Jay figured that was just the natural result of dropping some weight. Still, seeing such marked and immediate improvements in Henry bolstered Jay's enthusiasm for going out and drumming up more customers for the gym. Jay suggested to Flat-Top that they hit the beach and search for potential new recruits. Flat-Top didn't need much convincing. When he wasn't perfecting his physique at the gym, Flat-Top loved nothing more than hitting the sand, catching some rays, strutting his stuff, and ogling some Speedos. Jay urged Henry to take it easy, then headed to the showers with Flat-Top. When Henry finally did tucker out, he wobbled to the juice bar, smiled victoriously at Max, and promptly passed out, crumpling into a heap on the floor. Max rushed from behind the counter and knelt down to check for a heartbeat, relieved to hear it kathumping along at a healthy rate. He roused Henry back to consciousness and gave him some water to sip. Max chided Henry for overexerting himself, even though Max knew full well that Henry would have been nearly powerless to resist the boost-and-berry-driven imperative to push himself further. Once he felt rejuvenated and rehydrated, Henry shuffled to the locker room and slowly peeled away his sopping t-shirt, revealing the magnitude of what his mini-marathon had accomplished. His gut had receded to more of a paunch, and his arms had lost some of their gelatinous qualities. He was a long way from being beefcake, but if this was what he could expect from a single workout, tomorrow could not arrive soon enough. He wished Jay still worked for him so he could give him a promotion just for introducing him to this place. He'd have to find some other way to show his appreciation. It was mid-morning, and Henry could not face the prospect of a boring day trapped at the office. He called in sick for the first time in years, liberated by a sudden sense of freedom. He headed home and busied himself with all of the repair jobs his wife had been urging to take care of for months or, in some cases, years. After a productive afternoon during which his energy remained sky high, Henry luxuriated in a long hot shower, invigorated by the droplets pelting his skin. His cock chubbed up as he lathered himself thoroughly, but he didn't want to squander a good erection. It would only be fair to save himself for Diane. He pulled on his favorite Hawaiian shirt, amazed by how loosely it hung on his frame, and was able to squeeze into a pair of Dockers he had outgrown three years earlier. Diane immediately knew something was strange when she pulled into the driveway and saw Henry's car, as he had not arrived home from work before her in at least a decade. As she entered, she was greeted by unexpected aromas from the kitchen, where Henry was busy preparing spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread, one of the few meals he had ever learned to cook on his own. She stood in the doorway, silent and wide-eyed, as her husband bounded excitedly around the room, boisterously singing "That's Amore", humming to fill in the gaps for the lyrics he couldn't remember (which was pretty much everything other than "That's Amore"). Finally noticing his wife's arrival, Henry dashed across the room to plant a tomato-and-basil-flavored kiss on her lips. "Hello, honey," he sang in place of "That's Amore", and danced back to the stove to resume stirring the sauce. Diane was so stunned by his uncharacteristic exuberance that his weight loss didn't even register. She just knew something was different. "What has gotten into you, Henry?", she asked, but Henry just smiled and kept on sing-humming. She walked over to help him, but he poured her a glass of Chianti and demanded that she take a load off and relax while he finished fixing dinner. During a leisurely meal, Diane told anecdotes of her taxing day and Henry vaguely described his, telling her little more than that he felt "marvelous" and "like a kid again". The more she looked at him across the table, she could swear it looked like he had lost weight, but she had been on enough diets over the years to know it was impossible to drop more than a handful of pounds of water weight in a day. She figured his fresh appearance must just a pleasant byproduct of his unaccountably chipper attitude. Whatever had caused this boost in Henry's mood, she wasn't about to complain. Uncorking a second bottle, Henry insisted that they leave the dirty dishes until the morning and maneuvered Diane to the sofa for some heavy petting. He was friskier than he had been the night before, and had no concerns about his energy plummeting, but as he nuzzled his wife's neck, something felt off. Much as he wanted to please Diane, his dick was staying soft. On top of that, unfamiliar thoughts began to assault Henry's mind. Images flashed and then vanished, at first so brief that he couldn't identify them, but they were distracting enough that Diane could sense his concentration waning. "What's the matter, honey?", she asked. "Nothing," Henry assured her, although he was not so certain. As he held Diane's face in his hands and closed his eyes to kiss her, a single image finally gelled in Henry's mind. It was Jay in all of his newly-buffed splendor. Standing completely naked in the locker room. With an eight-inch erection. Pointing straight in Henry's direction. Henry was shaken by this vision. He was even more unnerved by the realization that his penis, flaccid until that moment, had sprung to life, stiffening inside his boxers. "Oh, Henry!", Diane gasped as she felt his hardness press against her thigh. Early on, Max had insisted on being up front with his customers about the radical changes that the boost would impose on their brain and their hormones. It was never an issue with his gay clients, as the boost only intensified their pre-existing preferences and markedly heightened their erotic pleasure, but he had felt morally obliged to alert straight men that the boost would permanently reconfigure their sexual orientation. Max's boss had frowned upon this level of honesty, not wanting to cut off potentially lucrative sources of revenue. In the end, Max had realized that giving the warning was ultimately pointless. Even those who strenuously objected and put up some kind of struggle against their newfound desires would inevitably surrender, their overwhelming craving for the benefits of the boost proving far more powerful than even the most virulent homophobia. Max himself had been something of a bullying asshole toward two teammates on his college swim team whom he had learned were gay, although his attitude evolved quickly once they began to supply him with the red powder that they promised would do wonders for his performance. Now, all these years later, Max had only the faintest of memories of having once been attracted to women, while the teammates who had been the targets of his abuse were now two of his oldest and dearest friends. Max had no idea why the boost made its straight users gay and its gay users gayer, although he suspected the surge in testosterone that it caused was at least somewhat responsible. He did know that the triggering event for the irrevocable transition was invariably the same: one's first post-boost orgasm. Henry's mind mounted some resistance as his brain was flooded with more thoughts of Jay and Max and the other shredded specimens who had surrounded him at the gym, his visions fragmenting into isolated close-ups of straining biceps and striated quads and ripe ass-cheeks and upward-arching cocks. There was still a tangible allure to Diane's warm body pressed against his, still a nostalgic familiarity to the scent of White Diamonds perfume on her skin, and he knew he was still intellectually in love with this woman with whom he had shared the past quarter-century, but these intrusive thoughts had become too persistent -- and too arousing -- to ignore. Once he stopped fighting them, he ejaculated immediately, pumping dollop after dollop of thick, warm cream into his undershorts. The energy swiftly ebbed from Henry's body and he collapsed on top of Diane, the events of the day finally taking their toll. Diane squirmed out from under her bulky husband, sighing with disappointment at the speed with which their romantic evening had come to an end, although it was far from unprecedented. As Henry began to snore, Diane adjusted him on the couch so he would be more comfortable, tucking a comforter around him and bringing out his sleep apnea machine. The spark may have left their relationship long ago, but she still doted on the big lug. Meanwhile, as Henry slept, the boost set about reordering his priorities. * * * Jay moseyed into the gym around ten the next morning, mirrored sunglasses shielding his eyes from bright light. He and Flat-Top had spent a productive day of recruiting at the beach, their exposed physiques providing ample evidence of the gym's benefits. They had lured in over a dozen new prospects with the promise of a free workout and a sample smoothie. Jay knew at least two of them would be arriving in a short while, as soon as they and Flat-Top finished showering together back at Flat-Top's condo. Jay had been invited to join them, but he had already fucked himself raw the night before and was desperately in need of a boost. Jay had no idea how much alcohol he had consumed the night before. His improved metabolism meant that a great quantity of booze was required to achieve even a slight buzz, so he must have downed a couple bottles of tequila to end up as blotto as he had become. Dim memories of dim nightclubs filtered through his head. He could recall flashes of colored light and the cool sensation of dry-ice fog against his shirtless torso. He remembered feasting his eyes on a buffet of delectable dudes, and being the object of innumerable devouring stares and roaming hands. The two twinks who had accompanied them back to Flat-Top's place came back to him as little more than nimble blond and ginger blurs, but he knew the four of them had stayed busy most of the night as Flat-Top taught Jay the joys of versatility. Jay had awoken this morning wracked with unfamiliar aches, feeling as if every orifice had been stretched beyond its intended limits. Since he had started on the boost, Jay had never waited as late as ten o'clock to get his morning jolt, and its absence in his body was killing him. His colossal hangover was merely miserable icing on the agony cake. His energy had dwindled precipitously, his impressive bulk had softened noticeably, and his extremities were riddled with the pinprick sensations that preceded numbness. Desperate for his fix, Jay staggered the final twenty feet toward the juice bar before flopping onto the counter, spread-eagled as he begged Max, "Blueberry Bonanza. And make it a triple." Max felt a twinge of guilt as he saw Jay so strung out, but he also knew there was only one remedy that would satisfy him. Max chastised Jay, "As happy as I am to see you shed your inhibitions, we do have health codes around here." He shooed Jay off the counter and whipped up the drink in record time. Jay guzzled it down greedily, purple trickles leaking from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. Jay's spirits revived, he filled in Max on the previous day's recruiting successes, but he found his attention drifting toward the gym floor, where a dark-eyed young stud in a black tank top and knee-length black shorts was scoping out his surroundings. He had thickly muscled arms and a broad chest, but slimmed down to an enviably narrow waist and the lean, perfectly toned legs of a disciplined runner. His jaw and cheekbones were precision sculpted, and a wild, undisciplined thatch of chocolate-brown hair jutted over his forehead before curling back like a breaking wave off Malibu. Jay figured he had to be a newbie, because there was no way this guy could have escaped Jay's notice. Even before the boost had altered his predilections, Jay would have fixated on this guy out of pure envy. To Jay's amazement, the kid's face lit up the moment he spotted Jay. As he sauntered coolly toward the juice bar, all of the sexual confidence Jay had gained from the previous night's conquests faded into anxiety as he fretted over what he could possibly say to this adonis. "Jaaaaaay!", shouted the young man, beaming as he rushed over. He wrapped his python arms tight around Jay and easily hoisted the considerably heavier man off his feet. Jay shot a baffled glance at Max, who was stifling a chuckle. "I don't blame you, boy," crowed the young man. "I don't recognize me either!" The voice was instantly recognizable, but bubbling with an unfamiliar zest for life. The tan Jay had gained from his day at the beach blanched instantaneously as his brain grappled with the realization that the lanky hunk squeezing the breath out of him had emerged from the great white whale that was Henry. Even after witnessing Henry's treadmill endurance test, Jay could never have imagined that Henry's lump of coal could have been refined into such a diamond. Could such immaculate bone structure really have been lurking beneath Henry's jowls and wrinkles all along? How had the sparse shrubbery on Henry's head sprouted so spectacularly overnight? Jay's own boosted body seemed like a minor overhaul when compared to how Henry had been super-remodeled into a supermodel. Henry lowered Jay back down to the floor, then spun around so Jay could get a complete look at his wide v-shaped back, his buoyant butt, his firm, wrinkle-free skin. "Can you believe this shit?", he asked, yanking on his unwieldy mop of hair, giggling with delight when it remained attached to his scalp. "I feel like a kid again, but I never looked half this good when I was young. Isn't it a-fucking-mazing?" Words were eluding Jay. All that emerged from his mouth was one long "Uhhhhhh...", but it still managed to convey his approval. As Henry slept, his body had undergone extensive renovations. When he awoke to this phenomenal discovery, he made his way quietly out of the house, careful not to wake Diane, and drove directly to the gym. Max prepared him a smoothie with a double boost and two handfuls of berries, for the reasonable price of thirty dollars, which Henry paid without blinking an eye. Once the smoothie got into his system and he began to exercise, Henry's improvements had only become more and more refined. "I've been here since five a.m., and every time I check myself the mirror, I look better. It's like watching Michelangelo carving David out of an ugly chunk of marble. Only I was the ugly chunk of marble. And now, I'm David!" Jay's head was swimming, only in part because he no longer knew who Michelangelo was. "Hey, what do you think about David?", Henry asked excitedly, conducting a quick poll of Jay and Max. "Think about him for what?", Jay asked. "For a name. For me. I sure as shit don't feel like a Henry any more, and I sure as fuck don't look like one." "I dunno," Max chimed in. "You ever seen that Henry Cavill?" Max wolf-whistled and his eyebrows leapt. "Naaah, Henry's an old man name," Henry insisted with a dismissive wave of his hands. "I feel like a David now." Jay was still grappling with the whole situation. "So you're just gonna go into work looking like this, and tell 'em to start calling you David?" Henry burst out laughing, the picture of youthful rebellion. "Fuck that. I'm not going back to that shithole. If I spent one more second cooped up behind that desk, I think I'd fucking die. No, man, I'm following your example. THIS is my life now!" He spread out his arms, his mighty wingspan stretching wide to indicate the whole gym. His eyes gleamed with enthusiasm for his future. "All those years of slaving away, stashing away my money for a rainy day. Well, it's finally raining, honey, and..." He broke into song, "It's raining men! Hallelujah!" He spun Jay around in a few sloppily improvised dance moves, effectively disproving the cliche that homosexuality correlates directly with a knack for choreography. Jay backed away, feeling personally responsible for how radically Henry had changed. "So if you're not going to work, what ARE you gonna do now?" "Now? You mean, like right now? Well, I got at least one idea." With that, he stared seductively into Jay's eyes. Jay had never realized that Henry's eyes were so mesmerizing, so deep and dark, especially at the office where he kept them imprisoned behind glasses that, from all appearances, he no longer needed. Jay felt unable to look away. Without taking his eyes off Jay, Henry asked, "Hey, Max, can Jay and I use your back room for a bit?" Max expressed amused annoyance. "You want to have sex behind the juice bar? What is it that you guys don't grasp about health codes? Go find yourselves someplace more fuck-friendly." "Well, we could go get a room somewhere," David said with a grin. "I just wasn't sure Jay could wait that long." "Huh? What?", Jay said, suddenly aware that his rigid cock was straining inside his compression shorts, stretching so far down the right leg that the head was in danger of poking its way to freedom. When he looked back up, Jay's conflicting emotions over what had happened to Henry were swept away, replaced by a single crystal-clear thought. "Fuck me, David."
  15. Herald

    The muscle frat (1)

    One "Come on. One more, buddy!" Brad grunted from the effort, his face beet red as he curled the 100 pound barbell up. "10", he groaned between his teeth as he completed his rep. "Nice job, man", Brock said as he helped his buddy lower the barbell back down and place it on the floor. Both aged 21, the two had been friends ever since their first day in kindergarten and had always been in the same class up until university. Even then, they had both chosen Orchid University. After setting their first steps in the gym at age 15, they had continued working out together on a daily base and joined their high school's football team. Now they we're both among the star players of the university football team. Brad controlled his fast breathing and looked down at his former roommate grabbing the 120 pound bar from the rack. "Come on, final set!", he said to his buddy as he sat down on a bench, exhausted from their workout and took a sip from his shake. "Fuck yeah!", Brock growled as he began curling the barbell with perfect control. "Grow", he said to his arms, his big biceps swelling with every rep as more blood flowed into them. "8, agh, 9, agh, ten…", he groaned, "gimme a spot, man!". Brad got up from the bench and stood in front of his roommate. He placed his fingers underneath the middle of the barbell and assisted the movement. "Come on, one more!", he said to encourage Brock. "Eleuhven…", Brock grunted. His body trembled as he lowered the barbell back down. "Tweuhlve". Brad's eyes widened as his roommate went on to complete twenty reps before he helped him put the barbell down. While Brock grabbed his towel from the nearby bench, Brad looked at his own reflection in the mirror. He grinned and raised his right arm in a flex. The pumped bicep hardened atop his meaty arm, blue veins snaking along the muscle. "How big are those guns?", Brock asked as he emptied his shake and looked up at his buddy. "Just under 18 inches pumped", Brad replied and hardened his flex some more. Brock moved next to his friend and raised his right arm to copy his pose. His bicep, pumped and red from the workout, mounded upward as he brought in his lower arm. The peak pushed against his skin and a web of blue, thick veins fed the steely orb. "Nice man", Brad said while he stared at the obviously bigger arm. "22,5 inches all pumped", Brock stated with pride. "Let's hit the shower, man", he said as he relaxed his arm and strutted toward the exit. "Yeah", Brad answered. "So, any other news?", he asked as he caught up with his buddy. "I told ya a million times, man: I'm not the president of the frat. Just be patient", Brock said and patted his buddy on the back. "I've been waiting for an invite ever since we've got here three years ago. You got in during the second semester of our freshman year. This year is my last shot", Brad went on. Ever since Brock had been allowed into the Dexameni-frat, the most exclusive frat on campus that housed most of the top athletes, he'd been jealous. He'd been checking his locker for an invite every day since his best buddy had gotten in. Brock turned to face Brad, grabbed his shoulders and made him look in his eyes. "Your chance will come, buddy. Be patient!", he said in a loud tone to cut off Brad. He released his friend and continued his way to the locker room. Brad sighed, knowing his friend was right and followed him inside. The locker room was completely deserted. They took off their sweaty workout gear in silence. Brad was down to his boxers and reached for his locker when he noticed the little black envelope. "No way", he mumbled and took it. His hands trembled as he ripped it open and read the piece of paper inside. You've proven worthy to join the ranks of the Dexameni-frat. Report to the frat house this Friday at 1900h "Good news?", Brock asked, keeping his back to Brad as he stripped completely. "I'm in!", Brad blurted out. "Told ya to be patient, buddy. I'm glad for ya", Brock replied and strutted toward the shower zone. He turned on the shower and let the hot water cascade down on his muscular body. He looked aside to Brad standing under the shower to his right. "Did ya bulk up during summer?", he asked, "Ya look bigger than last year". "Yeah", Brad answered, "I'm up to 182. I'm catching up, buddy". Brock smiled at the reaction. Even though Brad was a tad taller, 5'9 to his own 5'8, their bodies looked different. Brad had the muscular physique of a ripped fitness model, while he had the heavily muscled look of a bulky amateur bodybuilder. "Still some work ahead, buddy. I've gained some mass too: up to 229,3 pounds." Brad turned to his side and faced his buddy. Every muscle on Brock's body looked fuller than his defined ones. "Ready to burst through the 230 mark, he big guy. We'd better change your nickname from B-rock to B-wall", he said. "My abs look better though." He caressed the grooves of his ripped six-pack. A smug grin appeared on Brock's face when his friend used his nickname. He'd always liked being called b-rock; it made him feel even bigger than he was. "Ya know what they say", he said playfully, "abs on a skinny guy don't count". He flexed his abs in response, making his somewhat protruding muscle gut harden. "You're lucky we're friends. I should have kicked your ass for that remark", Brad stated with a smile. They always fooled around but he knew his buddy always had his back. "Kick my ass? You and what army?", Brock answered in an amused tone. He turned to his right and faced his friend. Brad's defined muscles gave him an athletic look. His own muscles were clearly fuller and rounder, his shoulder's half again as wide than his buddy's. "Think ya could challenge the b-rock?", he asked as he threw a most muscular. Brad stared at his 229 pound friend flexing right in front of him. The bulky muscles hardened all over his broad frame: his thick arms digging into the rack of pecs atop his muscle gut, his meaty quads pushing against each other. "At least, I'm taller", he said with a smirk and stood tall to stretch out his 5'9 frame. "Ya have to have something to attract some female attention", Brock replied playfully, " otherwise no one would notice ya next to me." He relaxed his pose and gently punched his friend in the shoulder. "Na. You're lucky to have your big muscles. Your ugly face scares off anyone", Brad answered. "Thanks for helping me get in the frat. I really appreciate it, man", he said and thankfully patted his buddy's broad back. "I'm happy I could help. See ya on Friday for the initiation", Brock said as he turned off the shower and strutted away from the shower zone, water sliding along the crevices of his bulky muscles. Two days later, Brad made his way over to the Dexameni-frat house. His legs quivered slightly with every step he took and his stomach clenched together: it felt like his first day of school again. He looked up at the façade of the mansion he'd passed nearly daily since he's been on campus. Two flexed, muscular arms were painted on the wide door and the name of the frat of his dreams sat atop it: DEXAMENI. Brad inhaled deeply to calm his nerves and stepped up toward the entrance. He knocked three times and waited. What seemed like an eternity passed before the heavy wooden doors opened squeakingly. A muscular, bare-chested figure appeared in the dark corridor. "Come in!", a deep baritone boomed. Brad sighed, he had recognized Brock's deep voice and eagerly entered the frat house. "I'm glad it's you, Brock", he said, "I'm…". "Silence!", Brock rumbled, "you only speak when spoken too! Follow me!". Brad jumped up as the heavy doors closed behind him and by the harsh tone of his best friend. He nodded and followed the big guy through the long, dark corridor. Brock opened a door on his right and entered, his smaller buddy following right behind. "Strip down to your boxers", he said and folded his meaty arms in front of his protruding pecs. Brad obeyed and stripped off his clothes until he was standing in his American flag boxers in front of his friend. "So what's next?", he asked. "SILENCE!", Brock roared. Brad shivered, his friend's deep baritone rumbling inside his stomach. Brock led his friend into another room and made him wait by the door while he stepped up to the center of the room. He stopped at the base of a wooden staircase that led to an altar with a throne behind it. "O great leader", he said as he looked up to the figure in the throne, "I bring you a new recruit that wishes to join the ranks of our noble frat." "Bring him before me", the leader replied. Brock walked back to the door where Brad was standing and brought him to the center of the room. Brad's heart pounded nervously but the feeling of his buddy standing behind him, comforted him. "Step forward, brothers", he figure on the throne said. The other frat members appeared from the shadows and formed a circle around Brad and Brock. All of them were bare-chested like Brock and looked at Brad. Brad looked around and recognized Orchid University's star athletes. Their muscular torsos glistened as if they had been oiled up. He saw two of his teammates from the football team, the three top wrestlers and some other athlete's he didn't know which sport they played. He looked up at the figure on the throne and recognized him as the captain of the swim team. He wondered why the clearly smallest guy in the room was the leader of the frat. Keith, the frat leader, stepped from his throne and looked down at Brad. "Everyone that wishes to join the noble DEXAMENI-frat needs the advocacy of a senior member. Step forward he that backs this recruits acceptance!". Brad looked around nervously, but none of the frat members moved an inch. He felt his heartbeat going up, seeing his long awaited dream shattering before his eyes. "I support his candidacy!" Brad inhaled in relief as he heard Brock's voice and felt his buddy's paw atop his shoulder. "Very well", Keith said, "You have the support you need, recruit. Now let's see if you're truly worthy of joining the noble DEXAMENI-frat!". Before Brad could react, his boxers were yanked down and he stood fully exposed amidst his fellow athletes. He felt the blood race to his face and his cheeks started reddening. He moved his hands to cover his cock but two frat members moved in and tightly held his arms at his sides. He felt Brock's left paw grab his side and steady him. He inhaled deeply as his best friend's right paw grabbed his soft cock and began stroking it. He felt his cock harden and swell inside the strong paw that clenched around his inflating shaft. Within seconds he was rock hard. He looked down and saw that his fully hard 8 incher was completely engulfed by Brock's meaty paw. He noticed the tension on the corded muscles atop his friend's lower arm as the paw kept clutching his cock. His breathing fastened more and more as he felt on the verge of orgasm. "UGHN", he groaned as Brock gave his rock hard 8 incher a final, very hard squeeze and his balls spewed out their load. Six heavy blasts shot from his cock in an arch through the air before splattering down several feet further. He felt his muscles relax but the strong grasp of the two frat members that were holding his arms, kept him upright. He sighed in relief as Brock released his softening cock and grabbed his sides with both hands to steady him. "Seven feet and nine inches far", Keith said, "He's worthy of joining our noble DEXAMENI-frat!". The other frat members cheered as their leader grabbed the chalice from the altar and moved in front of Brad. He nodded at Brock. Brad felt his buddy release his right flank and grab his half-hard cock again. "Ughn", he grunted as his cock was stroked back to hardness. His drained balls stabbed in protest as a second orgasm was milked out of them only minutes after the first. His entire body went rigid as the warm, meaty paw grabbed his balls and clenched them together. Three watery loads leaked from his nearly fully hard cock into the chalice Keith held at its end. He would have collapsed as Brock hadn't grabbed his left armpit so secure him. He looked down and saw his buddy pull up his boxers before the warm right paw grabbed his other armpit. A feeling of relief went through his exhausted body. Keith shook the chalice, held it above his head for all the frat members to see it and placed it back on the altar. He turned around and looked back at Brad. "Welcome to our ranks, Brad!", he said, "now, let's party!". The frat members howled loudly and left the chamber. Bard followed them, not caring he was in his boxers. The feeling of finally being part of the frat filled him with joy.
  16. js44

    The Return Of Zeus

    Plotline: After centuries of living in isolation, Zeus decides to return to earth and have some fun as a human. The following is a work of fiction, this story does not make attempts to presume religious practices, faiths nor retell any historical events with accuracy. I I sit in my small throne room, levitating high above Olympus where I was forced to relocate after the explosion of Vesuvius so many earth cycles—well, years ago. For centuries I have remained here, a prisoner of my own mistakes, I assume, watching as my creations have evolved beyond me and my fellow gods. The years of warring and brute control of our human creations resulted in a devastating loss. With many of the Titans destroyed due to their own brutality and selfishness, I no longer have the influence over my people as I once did. I should have had the foresight to understand that humans would move beyond their faith in me; after all, there are plenty of other deities both evil and good for humans to invest their lives in, and they do have free will. As humans have stopped believing in my existence, my powers have also diminished. I'm sure other Titans exist elsewhere, perhaps in far off places and times, but in any case I am comfortable where I am. I have actually found it amusing to watch the human civilization evolve and grow over the centuries, they have discovered so much about how I and my fellow Titans created them and their environment. As I walk to my reflecting pool, I realize that it has been nearly 2000 years since I was exiled from the Roman existence. Jupiter, as I was called then, was their leader, their source of power, their ability to conquer and discover and rule and love, lust. As an immortal and a deity I do realize that time bends to my will, but I have enjoyed my current role as a hands off god, living in solitude high above Olympus. I perform nearly the same ritual each day that I have since I settled here, and though I am not dissatisfied with my immortality or my power, these last few years I have become bored and restless. I look down at my reflection in the pool, the cool water shining an emerald glow of myself back into my eyes. I wear the same white toga I have always worn, prestine in its own immortality. I appear to the be same age as I always have, my bright blue eyes reflected against my blonde, curly beard and a thick, flowing blonde mane wrapping down my head and behind my neck. Not bad for a human, typical for a god, though. I smirk at myself, we Titans sure did have fun in our day. We languished in our fluid sexuality, our carelessness and candor with each fellow god as well as humans. Even in our selfish and turse natures, I had no regrets for what I did. Hyperion and I would often go to Earth, visiting in human form. We could take our picks of the strongest and worthiest humans to bond with, gracing them with our godly sex. Theia would challenge us to plant our seed into as many humans in one night as we could, I usually won because I could coerce multiple men and women to come to bed with me at the same time, Hyperion preferred one partner at a time. Pulling the strap from my toga, I undressed and dropped my garment. I put my hand against my chest and feel my blonde hair gracing over my sturdy and flattened pecs, leading a treasure trail across my six-pack abs and down to my thickly hairy pubic region. I miss my sexual encounters, my tool misses it too. Years of masturbation on my own have caused me to grow longing and restless. I flex my quads and see my hair raise over my sinew. We gods always enjoyed our nude rituals, and my daily swim in my lake remains one of my favorite activities. I take a perfect dive into the water and stroke back and forth across the lake, feeling the cool water rush over my naked body. I couldn't help but ask myself what it would be like should I return to earth today. Humans with their computers and vehicles, their vast languages, cultures and technology. Only few rituals remain from my time as a ruler, how I would love to participate once more in the activity of human life. Of course there really was nothing to stop me. As a controller of energy and electricity I could easily and quietly work my way back into the plane of earthly existence. But what would I do? The political factions and cultural phenomenons are so different now. Does it even matter? Of course not, for I am a god, and I can integrate myself back to visit the earthly existence once again. A smile grew on my face and I stopped my stroke. Floating in the water I decided right then to spend at least a few days on earth. I levitated out of my pool and toward my observatory. Up until now I simply used it to monitor human activity, but today I will use it to find a location and a group of humans to integrate myself with. I dried my body and stood before my observatory windows, watching the present time in every place on the plane. I wanted to be young, athletic and with a group that had fluid and constant access to each other. A university setting, of course! But where? Humans today seemed to enjoy fame, particularly with athletes, I should be in a university setting where a particular sporting match is popular and well-respected. My people had always reveled in the sport my fellow Titans created: wrestling. I should be a wrestler, of course. I had never visited the Americas before now, and I wanted to try a new location. I found a university with wrestling as a primary, popular sport near the east coast of the Americas and set my sights there. I could locate there in human form, but that would be difficult to integrate myself. Instead, I could share my powers and possess a male athlete already integrated, it would be perfect opportunity for me to have some fun, for the man would have already established any social necessities. I turned my focus to the athletic center of the university, where around 12 men were scrimmaging each other during their daily practices. I had not possessed a human in centuries, it would be best to take one of them while he was alone. One man stood out to me, someone of Greek heritage, a man named Lukas, someone who had a long string of Greek heritage. He was not the strongest of the sport, but he was on the team and had a fair set of friends. He also seemed to be a bit of a loner, not terribly social but people did recognize him. Perhaps I could help him establish himself as a true Power Player of the wrestling team. Yes, that would be my way of thinking him for lending me his body for a short while. I informed my demi god servants of my temporary absence and prepared myself for my journey. I could teleport myself into the human plane of existence, but I would need to be creative to possess this human and take on his form. I quickly moved to my chamber that bridged the plane of earth and set my course for the Americas. I stretched my body and prepared itself for metamorphosis, I would need to take on my form of pure energy to most effectively gain control of Lukas, it would be quick and painless for him. Actually, it would be quite pleasurable, any human gaining the awesome powers of a god would enjoy it. I smirked as my chamber began channeling the energy of my body out and toward the earth, perhaps the centuries in solitude has made me softer to the human condition. In the past I cared not for human feelings and sympathy, I simply ruled with my intent. But today I plan to take this human with care and compassion. I looked once more at my raw, nude body as my sculpted, muscular form broke apart and into waves of blue energy. I smiled as my body morphed apart, skin and muscle splitting into a blue blur of energy. “Take me to the Americas!” I ordered as the room rocketed my energetic form downward into the plane of human existence. II I wrapped myself into the energy cables that seemed to cloak every part of human life and traveled in them toward the university, into the athletic center and into the light fixtures above the gym. 8 mats lay evenly spaced apart as young, strapping collegiate athletes pushed their own bodies and that of their foes to their fullest athletic ability. These men held the same passion for sport, for respect of the male form, and for athletic camaraderie that the humans I ruled over used to have. These were men who respected and were proud of their bodies, they were the perfect vessels for me. Lukas was out of breath, his muscles ached, but he was able to pin his opponent Victor against his own odds. He was able to exhaust Victor as he slammed him in a last pin, claiming victory for himself. “Damn dude!” Victor said, out of breath, “you've been training hard, man, you got the strength! Can't wait for our competition tomorrow, I think you're going to rock it!” Lukas also out of breath answered, “thanks Vic, that was fun man.” Victor laughed, “hey dude! I know you're not in a frat or nuthin but we gotta party going on at the house tonight. You should stop by. I know you haven't been yourself since Mercedes broke up with you. We're gonna have the girls over tonight, might be nice to get laid before the big meet tomorrow, ya know?” he added with a toothy grin. Lukas shrugged him off, “yeah we'll see man, I'm tryin to get over her ya know?” Coach called Lukas before he could finish a conversation. “Lukas, I need you to condition your quads before heading back to the locker room. Rest of you men, run 3 miles then hit the showers!” Vic gave Lukas a slap on his ass as the other guys headed toward the track. With Lukas alone I should be able to take his form with ease. I traveled through the walls and electrical structure following the young man to the weight room where he hooked up a quad machine and started pumping his legs. He wasn't as big as Victor or the other wrestlers, but he had his own stature, and as I watched him pump the machine in his singlet I was reminded of the warriors I used to train. Lukas had dark, short hair and thick tuft of arm hair underneath his pits. He would have had hair on his chest and legs too but he shaved it. The guy was a jock in every sense of the word, but he was not the arrogant, stereotypical showoff I was used to seeing in other men. Lukas grunted with each pump of the machine, I could read into his head he was considering going to the frat party, he wanted to be social, but he also took his sport seriously. The thought of being with a girl was arousing him, and he started having memories of his sexual escapades with his former girlfriends. His dick started rustling under his jockstrap and he felt it best to hold off on his fantasies until later. Lukas stretched himself in the weight room and looked at himself in the mirror. He was the only one in the room, and he started flexing to see his physique. He smirked as he moved his forearms up and down, looking at the tension in his arms, his sweat shining on his skin, his sinew bulking up and down tightly against him. Lukas turned to see if anyone was around, deciding to get creative. He took his left arm and pulled down his right tank, sliding his arm from underneath it before doing the same with the left. His sweat stuck his skin close to his singlet but he was able to roll it down across his pecs and down to his abdomen, exposing his thinly defined six pack and a shaven, shaped treasure trail below his belly button. He crunched his abs and examined his back, flexing his shoulders to see how much muscle he had gained. “Not bad,” he told himself. I respected this young man, he was proud of his body. I realized now was just a good a time as any to merge with him. I just needed him to touch something that could let me connect with him. I flickered the lights in the weight room to get his attention then cut the power off of the lights. “Shit,” he said, “did the power go out?” I turned on the emergency light right above the light switch. If he were to touch it, I could reach out and into him. Lukas looked at the switch, contemplating to turn it. “Yes, Lukas, touch it!” I whispered into his subconscious. He walked toward the switch and I began anticipating the ritual I had not done performed in centuries. I could feel a flutter of excitement wrack through my form. “This is it,” I told myself. Sweat dripping off of Lukas, his exposed upper body walking toward me, I beckoned for him to reach out. As soon as his finger hit the switch I moved beyond the wall and touched his finger, a blue spark of electricity gracing the human. “Mmm,” I told myself as a wave of orgasmic pleasure hit me. I sorely missed this. I branched out of the wall and covered his hand as Lukas's eyes opened wide. “Holy shit!” he shouted, “What is the fuck is happening!?” Forcing myself onto his arm I started to move up his body, covering him in my electric power. The young man's body felt shapely and well-defined. He wasn't a muscular behemoth but that wouldn't be a problem, I could certainly help him with that. I wrapped around his neck and onto his head before covering myself over his pecs and abs, wrapping over his singlet and down his legs and feet. Feeling the entire body was nearly orgasmic, but I had to integrate with him. “Oh! Wow!” he said, feeling new surges of energy on his skin, “Oh fuck what is this?!” I lifted the human off the ground as he twitched his body in pleasure, Lukas's breathing started accelerating as my energy diffused around him faster and faster like a tornado picking up a toy. I dug underneath the signlet and toward the man's loins, ripping the fabric and causing it to fall to the ground. “Uhh!” Lukas shouted, he was starting to enjoy this and didn't mind exposing his whole body to my power. I graced his exposed ass within his jockstrap as it began to fray from the violent power surrounding him, but I needed the man truly naked to take his form. Picking up speed, I dug into his strap and ripped it off, let his large package hang free, whipped around my cyclical power. “Rarr!” Lukas shouted as he tensed his muscles and flexed his arms. I felt his dick and wrapped between his legs and up his ass crack. This human was in great form, but I was going to improve him. Pushing my energy, I dug immediately into his body, thrusting myself through his pores into his nervous system. I moved into his form, flowing into his body gaining control of his muscles, thoughts and consciousness. “Umm, moree!” he shouted as he felt me enter his mind, “YES! OH FUCK, A GOD YES I WANT MORE!” he shouted again, lost in his own wrath of pure power pleasure as his brain wrecked with my own consciousness. I pushed my power into Lukas, starting at his arms, buldging his forearms with power as veins snaked down them, regrowing his dark hair thickening on his skin. His sinew wrapped up his arm and into his shoulders as his pecs swelled and bulged with power, his skin tone darkening to a warrior-like golden hue. My powers then dug into his abs, expanding his flattening pecs engrooving his abdomen into a tight, well defined eight pack. Lukas rubbed his bulging hands across them as his midsection widened and shoulder broadened, expanding his upper body. “Oh fuck yeah!” he shouted through the wave of power surrounding him. Our minds met. "OHHHH God! Yes! YES, it's ARGH, Zeus! Fuck yeah! The powers of Zeus!" Lukas shouted as his breathing increased, his body taking in my powers. Lukas stretched his levitating body, lurching taller, his growth giving him inches in height. His arms stretched downward as he watched his body swell and grow like never before, thickening as his chest and lats continued to heave with every deep intensely pleasurable gasp of breath. Lukas looked between his legs as they began to pump and grow outward, football-sized quads hardening between his dick and balls as his shins tightened with muscle and feet grew outward. His formerly shaven legs began pushing his dark hair out with aggression, covering his legs and reaching up toward his now shaking cock and balls. His adonis belt tightened, creating a deep arrow directly toward his package, chiseling out this warrior form. His cock pushed out with power as it moved to the right and thickened with increasing girth. His balls began dropping lower from the verility of godly seed I was feeding into him. I entered my consciousness into his as I began to feel the human's body, his mind, his alignment with my all powerful abilities. “RARRR!” I shouted as I blinked his eyes and flexed his muscles. I had forgotten just how good it felt to be human! “OH YEAH!” I shouted again, lowering myself to the floor as I ran my hands across my new naked and bulked body. “Umm, yes,” I said again, “this feels fuckin good! Why didn't I do this sooner!” I looked at the mirror and began posing every possible muscular show off I could, stretching my back, wrapping my arms around me, crunching my abs and quads. I ran my hands down to my package and felt my dick and balls, remembering how good the sex organ felt. I shut my eyes as I touched my uncircumcised head, “I forgot some humans do this now, feels good,” I said. I crunched my butt and gave it a solid slap before turning around. This was going to be a fun week. III I picked up Lukas's tattered clothing and began walking toward the locker room when I could sense a human working his way toward me. “It's Freddy, another wrestler, a freshmen,” I told myself, sensing who it was. He was going to catch me nude and truly ripped. I could turn invisible. Or I could have a human to have a little fun with. Freddy approached the bottom of the stairs and saw me fully naked and ripped my arms crossed, in a pose to wait for him. He considered turning around but couldn't help but stare at me. “Uhh, Lukas? Is that you?” he asked. “Fuck yeah, man! I've been pumping up my body where you've been?” I answered. “Uhh, I just needed to lift some before tomorrow's meet. Coach said I gotta bulk up.” “Yeah you do,” I answered, a smirk on my face. “What happened to you?” Freddy answered, walking slowly, his guard somewhat down, now. “You're fuckin ripped, what did you do to yourself?” I didn't know how to answer that so I just said, “hard work, my friend! I was posing after I finished pumping the weights and my singlet ripped. Hope you don't mind I'm naked.” Freddy looked me over once again and gulped. If he wouldn't have known me he would have been intimidated, but he also couldn't look away, I was lusting him in ways he had never felt before. I smirked again, “hey man, I'll help you condition for tomorrow, hop on the press,” I said, pointing toward the bench. “I'll spot.” Freddy was in a t-shirt and shorts with a jockstrap on underneath. He wanted to look like me, he wanted to be me, he wanted to anything he could to get like me. So he excitedly agreed and hit the bench. I spotted him for a few rounds of pumping, Freddy driven to try harder and harder as he looked at my naked form. “How did you get like that?” He asked. “Can I have some of that, even 10% of your power,” he said. “Let's train,” I answered, “I'll show you some moves on the mat and maybe you can gain some of this physique.” I wanted an opportunity to share with him some of my strength, and this was the perfect way to get me laid and to get him some of my power. Freddy walked out toward the mat and positioned himself, but I crossed my arms and stared. He looked up at me. “What?” he asked. “Am I doing something wrong?” “You wanna be a greek warrior, right?” I answered, pointing to my body. “Get naked we're wrestling like real men did in the days of the true warriors!” Freddy's mouth dropped but his lust for me took over. He had only ever been naked before in the locker room, never actually on a mat. But he realized that he allowed his buddy Lukas to remain naked during his conditioning in the weight roomnow, why not get naked too? He let Lukas stay naked because he liked it, and with Lukas's suggestion he was starting to like the idea of being naked himself. He shrugged off his t-shirt exposing his sweaty arms and glistening chest. He kicked off his tennis shoes and slid his sweaty socks off of his brown, hairy legs. The guy was short but had muscular physique. He wasn't afraid to show himself and he wanted to further condition too. “Well, you went all out,” Freddy said, “I guess I should too.” Freddy dropped his gym shorts before stretching his jockstrap out and pushing it to the floor, stepping out in his own naked form. He fluffed his dick and clapped his hands. “We're true warriors, huh?” he asked. “Let's fuckin wrestle then!” We both took a starting pose and ran into each other, using our energy to try to pin the other. I could have easily taken him down but wanted the guy to enjoy this moment. We knocked our naked bodies together, grabbing each other in the back and on the ass to pin each other down. I let Freddy flip me over as he landed on my back. As he did I felt his full erection against my lower back, pulsing with each fast heart beat against me, booming over and over in rapid succession. I smiled, this human was enjoying this body as much as I was. I flipped him back over and kneel above him as he looked at me wide-eyed. “You have a big boner there, Fred,” I said, nodding down to his dick. “Look at you, Lukas!” He shouted between breaths, “how could I not with a body like that?” “You want some of this?” I asked with a smile. “Fuck yeah! But how?” Freddy answered. I gave my dick a couple of tugs and let it grow out, its girth gaining bloodflow and thickening as it went horizontal and began pointing high toward the ceiling. I wrapped my arms around him and picked him up like a ragdoll, the man going limp with confusion and letting me take over his body at my will. I pushed him against the wall and sat my erected dick against his back, feeling his hairy butt and reaching around to his dick. “This is going to give you the body you want,” I whispered as I entered into him, Freddy grunting with pleasure as my ever-powerful dick melded into his form. I could feel my powers brewing within my body, preparing itself to transform Freddy into a mortal but muscle behemoth. “Yes, Zeus, give it to me!” Freddy said, connecting with my mind, “I want your powers!” I rocked my hips as I felt a mortal orgasm build within me. I had forgotten how good it truly felt. I ordered my immortal seed to deposit muscular growth into Freddy and I shot load after load into him, hearing him gasp with pleasure as he felt my power building inside of him. “Oh fuck! YEAH! YEEEAAAHHHH HAHAHAH!” he started shouting as his voice moved into lower octaves. “The POWER!” Freddy started twisted as his body exploded with muscle, shoving his ass free of my dick. His sinew running from his bulking and square ass down his quads and up to his abs, back, pecs and shoulders. He stretched his arms and saw them bulk thicker and thicker as his neck widened and hair grew over his chest, down to his ass and between his legs. Freddy grabbed his package as he felt his penis explode with pleasure, growing downward as his scrotum accommodated for the weight in his growing testicles. “Mmmm,” he said, reality sinking back into him as he looked around. “Lukas, Zeus, whoever you are, thank you,” he said. He grabbed me and took his dick, pushing it against my legs. “I'm fuckin behemoth, now! How long...” he asked. “I will return to my plane on Olympus in 3 days, you will return to your former self at that time,” I answered, “you will not remember this physique and this event with much detail, you understand why.” Freddy didn't seem to mind, “gotta have some fun for the next few days, then!” he said. “Where are you going now? What are you doing tonight?” His energy was surging with excitement. “Off to the locker room now, my friend!” I shouted, “most of our team is still in the showers. I think there's some more worthy men I would like to share this with.” “You're the boss,” Freddy said, “lead the way!”
  17. This story is coming to an end. Got some hot stuff here. Enjoy! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 A College Weight Room Story: The Path to Gains Thursday. Cardio, Biceps, and Back Day: Part 5 It is 9:45. Troy and I are standing in the weight room drenched in sweat. I’m pumped as fuck. We ran 2 miles this morning and decided to work chest and back afterwards. We are 15 minutes into our bicep workout. I can see the veins in Troy’s blood pumping with blood with each dumbbell curl and his arms aren’t all that’s pumping with blood. His cock is obviously hard through his running shorts, which are so short that they barely reach the middle of his thigh. I see his meat twitch with every curl and in a way I can feel his alpha energy radiating from his body. I have two 40 pound dumbbells and he has two 45 pound ones. His biceps are obviously stronger than mine. His rock hard biceps are burning read as he curls and I wish so much to be as big as him. We finish our last set and I pat him on the back. It is still drenched with sweat from our run, but I don’t care. “Fuck bro, your biceps are swole as ever,” I say. “Thanks man,” he says. “But look at yourself. Those are boulders. Flex those babies.” He looks in the mirror and flexes his bicep. I flex both of my biceps. I am wearing a black stringer tank top and the flexing reveals my hard pecs and with both biceps flexed, I look amazing. Troy’s eyes light up. “Shit bro!” he says. “I need to get a pic of this!” He takes out his camera and we strike the same pose. “Look at the two of us alphas.” He says this while showing me the picture. “Two powerful bros, ready to crush all of those that get in our way.” “Me, an alpha?” I say. “Yeah dude!” he basically yells. “Look at these arms!” he says and grabs holds of both of my biceps. “You’re a beast!” I don’t know how to respond to this, but before I can Troy gets a message on his phone. He looks down at his phone and his eyes open wide. “Holy shit, man! I got an internship in Superset City!” “WHAT?!?” I am shocked. Superset City is the fitness capital of the entire United States. The only people that live there are pro bodybuilders, extreme fitness enthusiasts, and basically anyone with a bod worth showing. “I got an internship in the swollest city in the word! Fuck!!” He is shaking with excitement. “When will you leave?” I say. I am a bit panicked. Troy can’t just leave. “Next Fall is our senior year. Dude, you should apply. I don’t have a roommate yet and it would be cool to be able to work out and chill with you every day!” “Really?” “Yeah, man! Just promise me you’ll think about it” I hesitate. I never thought about doing an internship, but to go away with Troy would be amazing. I don’t know why he wants me to go, but I don’t want to let him down. “I’ll think about it.” I say. “Great!” We continue to work out. Troy is even more pumped than before and we charge our way through the rest of our biceps and back workouts. We are burnt out by 10:45 and in a desperate need to shower. Troy follows me into the locker room. I no longer feel nervous when I go in here alone with him and I immediately begin stripping. Once my clothes are off I see that Troy is already naked too. He stands directly behind me and I know he is looking at me. “Wow man,” he says. “I feel like you are swelling up every time I see you.” I turn around and look at him. He stands in front of me fully erect and I feel like I could ask him anything at this moment. He just doesn’t seem to give a fuck that his showing me his all. I look down at his hard abs. They are protruding from his stomach, each individual muscle begging to me caressed. His cock points straight to the ceiling and is oozing with pre-cum. My dick starts to stiffen up and I see his eyes twitch down towards it. “Like what you see, bro?” he asks. This question shocks me. How do I respond to such a question? Should I tell him that his hard body turns me on or would that ruin our friendship? I decide to try to turn the conversation. “Dude, you look great, but I need to take care of this hard on,” I say. “I always feel like busting one after a good workout.” He looks at me inquisitively and slowly begins to move forward, his eyes never leaving mine. He stands right in front of me and I see him debate something in his mind. His eyes are full of questions and then suddenly a look of remorse comes over him as if he suddenly changed his mind about something. He backs away slightly and walks towards the showers. “Let’s go man!” he says over his shoulder. I watch his tight ass as he walks away. Fuck. My cock is dripping just thinking about those swollen globes. I follow behind him and get into the second shower, He is in the first and I hear him turn on the water. I turn mine on and thinking about his ass I start stroking my cock. I feel so close already. Suddenly my curtain is open and I am shocked. My hand is immediately off my erect dick and I turn around. TROY IS STANDING IN THE SHOWER WITH ME!! “You know… Out of all the muscles on your body that I have touched,” he says, creeping slowly towards me. “I have never touched this one.” He slowly reaches his right hand down and wraps it around my cock. Fuck! What is happening? He begins to stroke me and my body is filled with immense pleasure. His other hand begins to play with my nipples. I feel so good that I don’t know how to reacted, so I just melt into his hands. He begins to stroke faster and faster and his left hand beings to feel my abs. I begin to shake, my climax is building. “There it is big guy,” he says, “Let it all out. Show me what an alpha’s cock can do!” My cock bursts! Hot white streaks splatter Troy’s chest, dripping down onto his own cock and I finally let in a gasp of air. I fall back against the wall soaking wet. “Nice, bro!” he says and steps out of my shower and back into his. I’m still shaking as I hear him begin to moan. I finish cleaning and I know he is done when he turns his water off. I wait a minute, still lost in thought and then I turn off my water and go out to get changed. I don’t speak as I get dressed. I don’t know what to say, but then I remember his text about wrestling from yesterday. “So dude, you still wanna wrestle tonight after dinner?” I say “That’s right!” he says. “Heck yah man! I don’t have a singlet, I hope you don’t mind if I don’t wear one.” “Nah man, that’s cool. I just won’t wear mine.” “No! You have to wear it dude! I love that thing on your bod. It shows off the best of you.” “You mean my dick?” I say and laugh. “That’s just one of the good parts,” he says and laughs also. Well, at least he likes my dick. That’s good. Right? Troy’s phone begins to go off and he looks down at it. The light in his eyes die down as he ignores the call. I notice that his attitude is a little damp. “You ok, man? I ask. “Everything is cool,” Troy says anxiously. I can tell that everything is not cool “What wrong?” I’m just a bit worried about my relationship. My girlfriend is worried that I will get too big and she doesn’t want to date anyone bigger than me.” “So what does that mean?” “She wants me to stop working out.” What?! That’s crazy as fuck.” “Agreed.” “Well I hope you guys can work it out,” I say although it is a lie. “Thanks, bro,” he says. We begin our walk out of the gym and plan to meet to wrestle an hour after dinner. It wasn’t until dinner time that I heard from my friend Angelica, who had heard from Cassidy, who had heard from Joy that Troy and his girlfriend had broken up, not even an hour after the two of us had left the gym.
  18. Hey guys here is part three of A College Weight Room Story: The Path to Gains. Here is the link to part two. https://muscle-growth.org/topic/8710-a-college-weight-room-story-the-path-to-gains%C2%A0/#comment-89862 Enjoy! A College Weight Room Story: The Path to Gains Part 3 Outside. Tuesday Morning. Cardio and Abs Day: I wake up to my phones alarm at 8:45. I grab it from underneath my pillow and turn the alarm off. There’s a text from Troy. Troy: Morning bro. I’ll be at your front door a couple minutes before 9. Be prepared. It’s a nice day out. I jump out of bed and take off my clothes; my roommate has left for his early class so I have the freedom to walk around my room naked. I go into my bottom dresser drawer where I keep all of my gym gear and throw on a pair of black compression pants and a blue stringer tank top. Then I grab some black gym shorts and drag them over the compression pants. It would feel weird running in just the compression pants themselves. I can’t have the imprint of my dick visible for the whole campus to see. Before I leave my room, I look into the mirror. Perfect, the stringer hangs low enough to keep my pecs visible. The juicy round globes burst through the stringer and I’m not even pumped. Next, I grab a small bag and fill it with spare clothes and put it on my back, then I go downstairs and head for the front door. I check my phone as I open the door and I see Troy has texted me again. He’s already outside. I go out and he’s standing in my driveway wearing a fitted grey shirt and a pair of fitted bright yellow compression shorts that show a clear imprint of his heavy cock and balls. What… how… why is he wearing that outside? I can’t believe my eyes. He wears the shorts as if showing off his junk is a normal part of his day and I try not to look down at his cock. I gather my thoughts and try to behave normally. “You got here fast,” I say. “I woke up early and I was so pumped that I had to get here!” “Let’s do this then!” I reply excitedly. I really want him to turn around so my eyes stop wandering to forbidden places. “Yeah, let’s go!” he says and immediately turns around and breaks into a run. I start running and follow closely behind. Oh shit, now I have his tight ass to look at. Squats have really been doing him justice. I can see each ripple of his chiseled glutes through the yellow shorts. I try to focus on something else and I raise my eyes to his back. I can see his mountainous traps poking through the tight grey shirt, riding their way up his thick neck and I crave traps of that size. I need to have traps that huge. I notice darker spots appearing on his shirt and he begins to slow down to an eventual stop. “That’s one mile down,” he says. “One more to go.” He then strips off his shirt, revealing his solid abs and finely haired chest. He has a little happy trail that doesn’t take away from the marvel, but increases it. It makes him seem manlier. He turns and run again. I try to focus on other things as we run: the science buildings, the freshman dorms, the trees, the nice 70 degree weather, but his recent shirtlessness has all of my attention. I stare at every inch of his back as we run. His entire back seems to be flexed as he runs and I wish I could stand and punch it repeatedly to feel the power I know it holds. We stop in front of my house again after two miles and I am beat. “Alright,” I say between breaths. “That wasn’t so bad. Now I need to go to the gym and work on abs.” “Abs?” he asks. “I actually need to work my abs, bro. Can I come with?” “Hell yeah, bro! Why not?” We walk to the gym from my house. Troy puts his grey shirt back on and a little bit of my anxiety shrinks. I was starting to lose it from seeing him shirtless. It’s a short walk; takes less than 2 minutes. We show the desk worker our ID’s and head into the weight room. “So what do you usually do for abs?” Troy asks. “I start off with weighted ab crunches,” I say as I walk over to the weight rack and grab a 45 pound plate. “Ready, bro?” “Wow man, that’s a lot of weight. How many reps do you do?” “40.” “Jeeze.” He looks nervously at me. “I’ll try.” My world suddenly stops for 2.5 seconds. Did he just say he will try? I think I may have just found his weakness…Abs. He grabs a 45 pound plate and we make our way over to the floor mats. We both lay on a mat and begin doing crunches. Troy seems fine in the beginning, but he begins to slow down. He stops at around 26 reps, but I keep pushing. He looks over at me as he lies on his back with eyes that subtly hint at jealousy. “Damn Von, your abs are stronger than mine!” I push to 40 and then lay back, breathing heavily. “I know you have 3 more sets in you,” I say. His eyes basically pop out of his face when I say this. I smile cockily at him. I seem to have a lot of control in this situation and I have to keep myself from laughing. “Um...Maybe you have 3 more sets of 40. I’ll go for 20.” “Haha ok man.” I am awestruck that I finally found something I am better at. We finish our sets and move on to doing ball crunches, then hanging leg raises, then Russian twists. Our abs are burnt out so we head to the locker room, grabbing towels from the front desk on our way over. He walks into the restroom first and I take a leak. Troy takes his shirt back off and begins to flex his abs in the mirror. I finish peeing and walk over to the mirror. I take off my shirt and start flexing my abs too. Troy can't be the only one to put on a show. “Your abs are getting solid, bro,” he says. “Thanks man, you aren’t too bad yourself.” His abs are red and twitching beneath his skin. My hands are twitching to punch those muscles, to feel the solid impact, but I’m too nervous to ask. “Alright, I need to get clean. It’s shower time!” he says. He walks into the locker room and I follow behind him. He goes to a locker and removes his clothes for the day. I set my little bag down on a bench and take off my shorts, leaving on the compression pants. I look up and my body stalls. Troy is standing with his back towards me with his hard, chiseled ass out in the open. His ass is as white as the moon and his huge round cheeks look strong enough to crush bricks between them. I stand there with my compression shorts still on and he turns around. “Aren’t you gonna shower?” he asks. Troy is standing in front of me completely nude with just a hand covering his cock. “Yeah… I’m just… I’ve never seen anyone get naked in here before.” “What?! That’s what locker rooms are for!” he replies, both hand waving in the air, revealing his flaccid 5 inch meat. “The locker room is a safe place to be naked and enjoy it and the best part is that people can admire your body and you can admire theirs without any consequences.” He starts flexing both biceps as if he is being watched by anyone other than me; his cock is swinging between his legs mercilessly. He turns around and does a double bicep back pose, extending one of his legs and revealing his heavy balls between the cracks of his thighs. He turns around and I look back at him awkwardly. I notice that his cock is starting to get a little hard and he knows it too, his hand makes his way down and he starts to stroke it. “Let me help you, bro,” he says.” He walks forward, still semi-hard, gets down on one knee and grabs the band of my compression pants, ripping them down and revealing my 4 inch, flaccid, black cock and ass for anyone to walk in and see. His head is extremely close to my cock and I am paralyzed with fear. He looks down at my dick as if it was a normal part of his day and gets back up, turns around and walks to the shower. “Let’s go, man.” I follow behind him and he stops at the first shower. I go to the second, but barely make it past him before he slaps me on the ass. HARD! The sound resonates in the shower area and I jump a little. “Damn, bro. Those squats are doing you justice.” “Thanks,” I say and chuckle nervously. “Same to you man.” “You haven’t felt these beauties man. Give them a good squeeze.” He turns his back to me, his ass waiting to be worshipped. He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grab both of his ass cheeks and give them a hard squeeze. They feel like rocks in my hands. “Fuck,” I say. He begins to clench his cheeks and I feel so much power in my hands. It is getting harder for me to breath and I start to get hard from his clenching, so I let go. “Alright,” I say. “Shower time.” I walk into my shower and he goes into his. I hear his curtain close and his water turn on through the thin shower wall and I start to relax. I turn on my water and I make it extra hot. That was close. I feel the water rush over me and I start to breathe normally again. I desperately need to cum but I will save it for later. After two minutes, I hear something from Troy’s shower that sounds an awful lot like moaning. “Troy, you ok over there?” Uhh…I’m gonna be honest with you because you’re my bro. It’s been a while since I had sex with my girlfriend.” “So that means you’re— “Spanking the monkey, chocking the chicken, beating my meat, yup!” I can’t believe it. I’m in total shock. “Oh…” “Hey man, there’s nothing better than a good orgasm after a workout. Get hard and try it out!” He didn’t have to tell me twice, I was already hard and hearing him moan through the thin shower wall turned me on. “I always like feeling my pecs and nips when I jerk it. It makes my cock drip so much,” he says over the rush of the water. I begin to stroke my cock and then I hear his moaning. I begin to go faster and he gets louder. I start to moan and he hears. “There you go bro! That’s good shit right there. Fucking bust your nuts all over these walls.” I completely lose it at his words and blow all over the place. I moan in complete ecstasy and I hear him huffing and grunting as his wad shoots from his unseen hard cock. “Ugh..fuck!” he say. “I really needed that,” “Me too” “Well it was nice to do it in your company man.” We both finish showering and walk out of the showers, still naked but not awkward anymore. We walk to our clothes and as we get dressed, I see that his cock is still red and semi-hard from the tugging. “We should shower next to each other more often. It’s way more fun!” Troy says. I’m a little thrown off by what he says but I keep it together. “Haha yeah. Sure man.” “So see ya for leg day tomorrow?” “Yeah, for sure.” We are fully dressed by this point and walk out of the gym. Troy and I leave the gym and he fist-bumps me before we go our separate ways. There are so many questions in my mind. I know Troy is straight. He has never shown any sign of curiosity. He has a girlfriend, but why aren’t they having sex? I’m turned on by Troy, but only because he’s a strong alpha and I admire that. I admire how competitive he is and how he pushes me to be stronger. I know that I’m not feeling love for him, but today was strange. He’s never been this close to me before. He literally stripped me down today. Something is changing in Troy and I think I’ll start pushing him a bit to see what will happen. I know just how to push too… Wrestling.
  19. Bjort

    Cap & Bucky, Part 2

    Howdy all, Here is the next installment of Cap & Bucky. I think it passes the hotness test. Enjoy and do let me know what you think. I wonder if Jack Kirby is spinning in his grave yet!? KBO-Bjort The True and Unauthorized History of Cap & Bucky, Part 2 I felt amazing! Take the best orgasm you ever had. Then increase it by a factor of a million and supercharge it. Now send it chasing a rabbit through every cell in your unbelievably gorgeous muscular new body. Add in all five senses heightened to a keen razor’s edge combined with an overwhelming sense of rock steady confidence and nostril flaring maleness and you still won’t even get close. This must be how Superman feels--ready to wrestle the world into submission! And to make it all the better, I was in the arms of my ultimate super-stud lover who was at that moment working his mammoth cock into my super sensitive and wickedly eager hole. The second my muscle transformation had stopped I wanted him to fuck me. It was an absolute necessity to have him inside me. It felt as if my destiny was to offer up myself to the glorious hunk who had brought me this wonderful new existence of love, lust, muscle and power! I luxuriated in his embrace, so happy to be surrounded by manly muscles. I stroked his massive forearms as he eagerly caressed my pecs and abs—running his strong fingers through the new thick chestnut brown fur on my chest. I felt his huge frame pressing into my wide back as he kissed my neck and nibbled on my ear. I thrust my now bulging muscle butt back into his giant tool and felt him twitch with anticipation. “C’mon, big boy” I said in a sexy whisper. “Gimme the works, I want you bad!” He groaned quietly and then whispered back with a bit of a stutter “Uhhh, I don’t really…that is I… uhhh… I’ve, never…” I smiled to myself and then reached back to run my hands over his cock and to press his ass toward mine. His dick reared up like an unbroken colt and I said “Don’t think, just follow the cock.” I took his massive hand and led him along to the other end of the room where there were a set of benches and a row of steel sinks built into the wall. I bent over a sink and offered my ass up to him, helping guide his hardening horse dong toward its goal. He groaned louder than before and I growled “Go on, let it happen. Let’s see what that gorgeous hunk of man meat can do. I want it all!” Even though it had only been a few minutes since he had unloaded the biggest load in the history of big loads, his cock was now iron hard and saluting. He reached down just in time to slick it up with another generous dollop of golden precum and pressed home into my waiting ass. God I thought I would split wide open, he was that big. But my new sphincter seemed to have been vulcanized and I took him in, inch by thunderous inch until his whole massive schlong was ringing my bells. We moved together, first slowly, tentatively as I began to realize that I could not only take this monster but needed all of his supercock in me. I began to piston back and forth and he quickly picked up the rhythm. We rocked and rolled together, getting faster and faster—rougher and rougher. I could feel him giving into what I seemed to know was years of pent up lust and desire. “Go big daddy, I can take you, let it all out man!” I yelled as he started to moan--letting go of what I suddenly knew were a lifetime of restraints and inhibitions. His steel hard ramrod kept hammering at my completely willing ass. The bigger and harder his cock got, the more I wanted him to pound me. It was amazing to be able to take all he could give and more—a gift I could give to my lover, allowing him to express his deepest primal manly urges and to bring him pleasure and fulfillment unrivaled. This was our bond, our pact, our solemn sacred communion. We roared together with deep bestial bliss as he buried his now insanely huge and hard cock in me and let go with a piercing orgasm releasing another torrent of golden cum into me. It was paradise. I felt overwhelmed with pleasure and satisfaction and a deep abiding love for my partner, my lover, my man, my god! After what seemed like an eternity of unrivaled bliss, I slowly straightened up and stretched my massive frame. I felt Steve embrace me tenderly from behind as I did so and he slowly withdrew his still sizeable cock from my ass. As we basked in the wondrous afterglow of our first earth shattering fuck I realized several things. The first was that in the throes of my lover’s passion I had completely crushed the solid steel sink I had been holding onto. It was a sad crumpled mess hanging from the wall! The second was that, as with our first encounter, my body had completely absorbed his prodigious load, creating a sensation of satisfaction and satiation much like after a satisfying meal, but with out any heaviness at all. Indeed, the third thing I realized was that, far from feeling spent or tired, I felt even more energized and ready to tackle the world than before. Just at that moment I was startled by a crash as the wrecked sink lost its fight to stay attached to the wall and fell to the floor. I looked around and took in the toll our raging lust had taken on our surroundings. There was a big pile of wood on the floor which I realized had been a bench. I remembered Steve giving it a kick to get more maneuvering room. Seems he overdid it a bit! The sink was a crumpled mess and water was now spurting out of a sizeable hole in the wall. As I surveyed the damage my eye rose up to a large mirror that was on the wall above the sinks. At first I thought there was another gorgeous muscle stud behind me. Then with a shock I realized that I was looking at my own reflection--and damn if I didn’t look amazing! I was now about a good deal taller than I had been. My face was still recognizable as my own but it had changed in subtle ways. My eyes were now deep emerald green and my hair was a thick and lustrous chestnut brown. My face had become more chiseled looking with higher cheek bones and a strong manly chin covered in auburn stubble. I smiled at my new self and was rewarded with a dazzling reflected smile and full sensuous lips. My frame had expanded with mile wide shoulders and back tapering to a very narrow waste. My skin, always on the tan side thanks to mom’s Mediterranean heritage, was now a burnished bronze and my skin seemed to glow like polished wood. I rubbed my hand across a huge, full, and hard pec--feeling the soft man fur that now graced my chest. My nipple immediately stood up at attention, much larger and more sensitive that it had been. I ran my other powerful mitt over my stomach, stroking deep ridges of sensuous furry muscle. I then caught sight of my forearms, now beautifully thick and lightly coated with hair. I raised my arms and incredible mountainous biceps, peaked to perfection, sprang up supported by equally massive triceps. While I rotated my waste to see my fantastic torso and arms from side angles, I once again felt Steve’s hands move over my flexed biceps. “Amazing…absolutely perfect” he murmured as he stroked my bulging bis and kissed my rock hard shoulder. “I always dreamed of something like this but never dared to hope…” “It’s all here and it’s all yours.” I said with a grin as I went through a series of poses, each highlighting a now massive and steel hard body part. I could tell Steve was really into his muscle creation as he moved around me worshiping first my massive arms and then my thick furry pecs. As he worked my left nipple I realized that my newly expanded cock was starting to stiffen up, even though I had just let off a howling orgasm. “Damn!” I thought “We might spend the rest of our lives fucking and sucking right on this spot!” As tempting as this thought was, I had a few things to sort out first. Namely what the fuck had happened to me (and to Steve) to turn us into horned out muscle studs, and just what were our new super stud bodies capable of. I gently nudged Steve away from his admittedly highly pleasurable attentions to my left pec and said “Before we get too far along here, lets go find someplace besides a wrecked men’s room to talk and get to know each other some more.” He looked up at me with a look of slight disappointment in his eyes. “Don’t worry big guy, I’ll bring all of this sexy muscle with me." He grinned with my nip still in his mouth and said in a muffled voice “My billet?” “Perfect” We strolled out of the shower room arm in arm and walked down the hall to his room. It looked like any other standard issue officers billet. Except that all the furnishings looked slightly larger and better made than usual. It struck me that the designers of Camp S might have anticipated housing giant muscle studs in this place. Steve sat down on the quite ample bed and looked at me a bit like a lost puppy. Dammit all! He just melted me with that look. I bent down and gave him a deep and luscious French kiss that sent the high voltage running through me again. Pulling away again I said “So, not that I mind all this” as I raised my arms and shot him a double biceps pose. “In fact I fucking love it” I said raising my arm and kissing the Mount Everest peak that was my new bicep. “But what the hell is going on here and how did all this happen!?” “Well… er … why don’t you sit down here with me and I’ll try and explain” he said giving me the bashful sheepish look again. I just wanted to eat him up when he did that. Shit what a handsome stud! “No dice Pilgrim!” I said doing my best John Wayne impersonation. “I’m gonna sit over there in that chair, ‘cause if I get too close to you the next thing you know I’ll be sucking that amazing dick of yours again, and I wouldn’t find out anything.” He smiled at me and said “Aw nuts, I was kinda hoping for that” “Nope, answers first and then more sex—lots more sex.” I moved over to the chair, picking up his bag from it. As I did so I read the label: Captain Steven G.Rogers. “Captain? I just got fucked by a Captain?! Well I am going up in the world!”
  20. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Hiya! I'm back. I just finished writing this so I will add the links to the previous chapters later. I need to get in bed so I can go to the gym in the morning haha. I hope you guys enjoy it. I will be posting again this week. I need to get this ball rolling!! Please feel free to comment, question, or anything else you could do. Thanks! Wednesday: Revelations Part 12 “Vonny?” Ethan says. “Ready to go for a swim?” I turn around and look at Ethan. The water flows smoothly behind him as we stand in the grass. I want to go swimming but I cannot clear my mind of what just happened with Troy. The look of betrayal on his face stains my mind. I’ve never seen that look on him before and definitely not directed at me. The look is his eyes was like wine on a white dress. Something that was once beautiful and now completely soiled. I’ve seen him angry and depressed, but not hurt, and he’s hurt because of me. This doesn’t feel real. “Bro. You ok?” Ethan says. I had been thinking in silence for a while. My eyes stared blankly into Ethan, but I didn’t see him. I only saw Troy. “We need to talk,” I say. “Ok, about what?” He smiles kindly at me. I have high hopes for his understanding, but a little bit of hesitations also. I just can’t keep this to myself anymore. “It’s about Troy?” “Yeah.” “I don’t really know how to say it all really. I just… I’ll start from the beginning I guess.” “You seem nervous, man. Just relax and tell me.” “It’s a little weird…Like sexually weird… Not exactly hetero if you know what I mean.” “Oh… Ok, I’m fine with that,” he says with a smile. I release a long held breath and my body relaxes. “Alright, let’s swim while we talk.” “Awesome!” We both make our way into the water and I begin my story. I tell Ethan about how my friendship with Troy grew over the weightlifting class and how Troy seemed to be sexually charged towards me although he had a girlfriend. I told him about how we jerked off in the shower and how Troy was so eager for physical contact or nudity but somehow made it seem normal. Well not normal, but right. It felt so right. He listened eagerly and he didn’t say a word. He looked at me understandingly the entire time and I could feel tons of weight lifting off my chest. I finish the story by telling him what he already knows. He knows Troy’s girlfriend doesn’t want Troy to lift and now that he knows about our “encounters” he can help me. By the time I am finished, an hour has passed and we are out of the water and sitting in the grass. “Wow! So this is what has been bothering you all of this time. I mean I suspected something, but this was totally unexpected!” “Yeah, it’s kind of crazy, man,” I say. “So what should I do?” “Well…It seems like Troy may be in denial. I’m sure from what you told me that he’s possibly bisexual and hasn’t experienced much with another bro before.” “I’ve figured that much, but what can I do about it?” “Well I don’t want to say confront him, because he could flip shit and deny everything. I think you should wait everything out,” Ethan says. Do you like him?” “Uh…I… I don’t know,” I say. “It’s like he’s powerful and I enjoy how he pushes me.” “Don’t I do the same for you?” “Yeah, but I don’t get surges of sexual energy when I see you.” “Well if you aren’t crushing on him, I’m assuming you both have a very strong mutual appreciation of each other’s gains or some type of muscle fetish. It’s not strictly you liking him. It’s more of a bro thing I guess. You two were just a lot closer than I imagined.” “That’s a decent way to explain it. I still feel terrible though. I feel like hanging out with you is hurting him. He saw you flexing for me and I know he’s upset. I saw it.” “But dude, I’m not like him. We’re bros and yeah we may show off for one another, but I am not trying to get in his way.” “But what does he want exactly?” “I don’t know. We need to wait for him to figure that mess out, bro. But for now let’s just do what we do. Workout. Eat. Flex. Grow. Repeat.” I smile at this. I love the idea of just eating, lifting , and growing. I’d love a life where I’d only have to focus on my bod without the trouble of life’s problems. “Sounds good to me,” I say. “You still down for that run later?” “Yeah man. I’m still down!” I look down at my phone. Wednesday April 27th 4:30 pm. School ends May 20th. That gives Troy a little over 20 days to figure himself out and hopefully come to me…with a solution that is. “Let’s get back to campus.” We get up and head over to his car. It’s funny how after all of this we still have exercise on our minds. We quickly get back to campus and head over to the gym locker room. We are both extremely chill right now. I feel like Ethan is a lot closer of a friend and I know he feels it too. The burden of secrets has been lifted. We both walk into the locker room, go into our lockers and pull out our running shorts. It’s hot outside so there’s no need for shirts and honestly what fun would wearing those be? I suddenly feel a lot more comfortable around Ethan and get the balls to pull off all of my clothes in front of him. I stand in front of my locker with my dick, balls and ass hanging out. I look over at Ethan and he does the same. I’ve never seen his cock before but fuck was I surprised. Ethan was gifted with a thick veiny cock that hung flaccid at about 7 inches. Damn! If it’s that long soft I can’t even imagine it hard. I take a hard look at his round ass and the tight hamstrings leading up to it. I know him being nude in front of me is rare so I take in as much as I can. How lucky am I to have such a hunk for a friend? I pull up my shorts and put on my running shoes and he does the same. “Let’s go, man!” Ethan says. We head outside and I immediately break into a sprint. “Whoa, man! Wait for me!” The fresh air breathes life to my already sweaty skin. The sun beams down on me with intensity and I feel the skin on my back burning. I notice Ethan’s masculine figure catching up to me in the corner of my eye. Eventually we are keeping the same pace and we continue to run on the sidewalk past the freshman dorms. My thick, meaty pecs dancing as I run. Makes me wonder if they make bras for dudes with muscled tits. I look over at Ethan and see his pecs jump with each move of his body. “You’re fast!” Ethan says. “Oh, I know,” I say cockily and with a blast of energy I push myself faster. We run past the dining hall and the smell of food fills the air. Dinner should be ready soon. We pass a couple of cheerleaders on their way out of the dining hall door and they all squeal when they see us. I love it when people react to my body. Girl or not, it is amazing being admired. After about 40 minutes we have ran a little over 3 miles and we are beat. I check my watch and it’s getting close to 6 o’clock. “Wanna get dinner?” Ethan says. “Yeah. Let’s go to The Grill.” The grill is a fast food joint on our campus. It’s located inside our campus center and they have everything from hotdogs to chicken quesadillas. “When do you want to meet up?” “Meet up? I was gonna go now.” “Now! We don’t have shirts!” “Not gonna stop me.” I say. “Oh boy. Alright. Let us sweaty, sticky men go to a public space haha,” he says. “Perfect!” I reply. We walk over to the grill. It’s an old building. It was built in the 60’s and was still pretty decent looking. The red bricks have faded and there were a few dents here and there, but we weren’t here to look at the architecture. We push our way through the revolving doors and walk inside. There’s a food counter, similar to what you see in any fast food establishment, with tv screens above it displaying all of the food choices to the left. To the right there are about 20 black round tables with 4 chairs. Each seat at each table is filled with a person and every eye is on us. “Oh fuck,” Ethan mutters. “Stay calm” I whisper as we walk over to the food counter. There is a slim, Hispanic boy working the register. He’s wearing a bright red shirt and a red hat with our mascot, Buff the Bulldog on it. He visibly swallows when he sees me and begins to fidget his fingers on the screen of his register. He looks extremely young and is most likely a freshman. He’s pretty cute too. I’d probably destroy him in bed if I hadn’t had my heart somewhere else. Did I really just think that? “How…” he swallows. “How may I help you?” he says to my pecs. He is extremely nervous and his eyes are deeply focused on my chest. He even licked his lips a little and I can’t help but smile at this. I look behind him and there’s a thick black girl in the same outfit standing behind him. Her hand is over her mouth and her eyes are wide. She is obviously enamored. I decide to have a little fun. “I’d like…” I say, flexing my pecs with every word and earning a gasp from the girl behind him. “I’d like 2 chicken wraps” flex “a small” flex “fry,” flex “and a chocolate” flex “milkshake.” He stalls. His mouth is hanging open and he doesn’t respond. The girl behind him moves forward, her eyes never leaving my body, and speaks. “I am so sorry about him,” she says as she moves him out of the way and types my order into the register. The Hispanic kid continues to stare at my chest and I chuckle. “What will your friend be having?” I turn around and look at Ethan. His face is red and I understand why. I take a peek behind him and see loads of people still looking at us. “Ethan?” I say. “Uh, I’ll have the same,” he replies his face ever reddening. “Right away!” says the Hispanic kid. His mind finally working and he and the girl rush through a door to the back to prepare the food. I turn around and look at Ethan. “You cool?” I say. “Uh… Not exactly. I feel all of the eyes on me…” “That’s good, man. They’re just ‘mirin you.” “Yeah, I haven’t been looked at like this before though,” he says softly. “I mean I have, but only by you and a couple other guys. Never 50 people.” “Well there’s 100 eyes on you and they are loving every inch of your body. Own that shit man.” Ethan smiles at this and is about to speak when the girl comes back with our food. “Here you go guys,” she says with a huge smile as she hands us white paper bags filled with food. “Thanks for coming!” I feel that she actually meant that. It’s rare that cashier actually care. I thank her with a wink and she basically falls back onto the door. We both walk out and I hear her whisper “OHMAHGAWD!” as we leave. “That was pretty amazing,” Ethan says as we finish up our food. We had been sitting outside for about 2 hours. Talking about life, the future, and how amazing it was being admired by so many people at once. “My heart beats faster just thinking about it,” he continues. “I want to do it again!” “What’s stopping us?” I say. “Nothing I guess,” he says with a laugh. We get up and throw our bags of leftover trash away. It’s a little past 8 o’clock. “See you later, bro.” I raise my fist to his and we bump them together. I’m so glad he’s my bro. I slowly make my way over to my frat house and stop when I see a dark figure standing outside the door. Could it be a brother? It can’t be. A brother would know the code to the house. Each frat has a keypad and each brother knows the code. The figure knocks on the door repeatedly and I begin to realize this person could be threatening. Its body is sagging and drooping against the door. I slowly make my way to the door through my lawn, hoping it is just Jason or anyone else who could have forgotten the code. Sadly I was wrong. As soon as my feet touch the first step the figure turns around and lunges at me, I am suddenly on my back and the weight of the figure is crushing me. My arms and legs are pinned and I look it in the eyes. “Troy?” I say, startled.
  21. musclelovingtwink

    Josh's Genie

    Posted a few stories on Metabods ages back, figured I'd put them here to see if people like them Chapter 1: Josh Hartley sat at the kitchen table, looking at the loosely wrapped box his Dad had just handed him. It was his 18th birthday and it'd been a shitty day all round at school. Josh was younger than nearly everyone in the year so nobody really cared about 18ths anymore, and once again he'd been humiliated in gym class due to the classes switch to swimming for the summer. He was shorter than all the other guys and the Speedos provided by the school were obviously more filled out by the other guys. Returning home he'd reheated for leftovers and waited for his Dad's return from work, at which time he was given the present. It was a simple grey box with a red ribbon stuck on and a cheap card. "Are you gonna open it, son?" his Dad asked excitedly, a broad grin on his face. They weren't exactly rich so Josh wasn't really expecting much. He slid the ribbon off and opened the box. "Geez, Dad this must have cost a fortune." he gasped as he saw what looked to be a very expensive bottle of some brand of alcohol he'd never heard of. He wasn't sure what it was but the glass bottle had such fine, ornate detail over the whole surface that it clearly wasn't some cheap bottle from a liquor shop. "Don't worry about how much it costs, you only become an adult once, and it's important to me that you remember this." Before Josh could think about breaking it open to celebrate his father announced he was going to bed to be up for work in the morning. Sadly, Josh went upstairs to his room and took the bottle with him. He placed it on the bedside table and sat on the bed. Looking at the bottle he noticed a scuff on the side so he licked his thumb and tried to wipe it off. The spot wouldn't budge so he wrapped his hand with his shirt and started to rub the bottle. The bottle started to shake in his hand and with a loud bang like a gunshot, the cork flew out of the top and a dark red smoke started pouring out of the neck. Josh dropped the bottle as smoke kept blasting out and seemed to congeal on the floor . The smoke started to rise and formed into the shape of a man, first a set of beautifully sculpted, 8 pack abs with a deeply cut v leading to the pillar of smoke where legs would be, then a shelf of enormous pecs that stood out many inches above his glorious abs, with large, dark red nipples. Bulging shoulders and throbbing biceps with huge veins spread out from the muscular torso, and atop the statuesque figure sat a face of such astonishing beauty that Josh's draw actually dropped, and had his eyes not been scouring every inch of the Adonis-like figure, they would have been locked with the pitch black eyes of the smoke figure. "I am the great genie of the bottle, speak what you wish and I will make it reality." said the figure in a voice so loud and deep that the room seemed to tremble around him. Josh was almost speechless, and his mind flooded with ideas, worries and sheer shock at the godly figure that had just exploded into his bedroom. "A-anything?" he stammered out. "Some caveats may apply, you don’t need to worry about that right now." "Is it like all the stories, three wishes?" Josh asked, sill having no clue what he would wish for. "Not at all, that is a myth." said the genie sternly. "Oh." said Josh, his heart sinking. "One wish. Every day. Forever." Josh nearly fell over in shock at the news. "Holy shit, uhh, well…" he couldn't clear his mind enough to think straight so what he said just sort of slipped out without any thought of consequence. "I wish I was the hottest guy at school." "Done." said the genie, snapping his fingers, and a spark of electricity crackled between them. "You will become the sexiest man at your school, soon." "You mean I don't just change now?" he asked. "Well this is one of my caveats, I get to decide how the wish plays out, as long as you don't specify against what I want." he said, with a small smile. "Then can I wish to grow now?" "One wish every day, and all wishes are final." said the genie, again seeming pleased with his own rules. "But now, I must rest, I've been in that bottle for hundreds of years and granting wishes is exhausting." "O-Ok…" Josh started but the muscular figure had already dissipated and was refilling the bottle. He climbed into his bed and slept, expecting to wake up in the morning to this all having been a dream. School seemed to pass at half speed the next day. Josh had tried rubbing the bottle in the morning to no avail and at this point was actually starting to believe that the whole thing was just the creation of his sleep deprived brain. Sitting in the afternoon math class, Josh spoke to his closest friend Marc. Plenty of people were cordial with Josh, he wasn't that much of a social outcast, but Marc was one of the few people who wouldn't eagerly throw him in front of an oncoming bus for the chance to ascend the social food chain a little. "Did your dad get you anything cool for your birthday?" he enquired eagerly. "Uhh, yeah, some old bottle… I think it's alcohol…" His voice trailed off, he still wasn't sure if he'd dreamt the events of last night, and in the likely event that he had, he had no idea what was in the bottle. "That's cool, I guess." Marcus said somewhat awkwardly, "I know you guys aren't exactly swimming in cash." "Yeah, he really tries though, and I do appreciate it." The day was uneventful, which Josh preferred as eventful usually translated to humiliating for him. However, after math his class headed off to the locker rooms to get changed for the day's swimming class and he was once again confronted by the harsh reality of everyone seeing his distinctly under-packed Speedo. Sitting at a bench in the locker room, waiting to be called into the pool by the gym teacher, Josh did his best to conceal his body from the prying eyes around him. That was, until Liam Sterling, the most incredible looking guy in the class, and coincidentally the guy who gave Josh the most shit about his appearance, marched up to him with purpose. Liam was captain of the swim team and obviously had no qualms about displaying the slab of meat between his legs, almost obscenely in the tiny, stretched-to-the-limit Speedo. Seriously, there had to be six thick inches of clearly outlined dong crammed into that pouch and he wasn't even sporting a partial. He exemplified the perfect swimmers build, it wasn't that he was slender, but that his muscular body was sleek and looked as though it could slide through the water without generating so much as a ripple. And speaking of rippling, it was the best way to describe him, every inch of his body was curved by a rounded mass of sheer muscle, threatening to burst from his skin with every movement. His face was so good looking that you could stare for hours at the sharp jaw, the wavy, deep brown hair, and those stone cold, piercing blue eyes. All of this of course made life so much more unbearable for Josh, as he had to tolerate torment day in and day out from the one guy he wanted more than anyone else. "Jesus, Hartley do you even have a dick in there?" he asked, looking around to make sure everyone was paying attention. "You must be hung like a fucking baby." "I…" Josh started but he felt blood rushing to his face, and other places as he immediately tried to push the thoughts of Liam's body from his mind. "Fuck man! Guys he must have something there cos he's totally getting a hardon just looking at me!" Liam laughed. Josh blushed harder, thinking how it was hard not to get hard just from having Liams thick dick just inches from his faces, inches he was sure it could manage to close by itself. He became painfully away of a throbbing from his dick and looked down to see that it was clearly as hard as ever and noticeably reaching towards the roof, but it wasn't just that, it also looked large. Thicker than he remembered and pushing past the boundary of the 4 inch disappointment he was used to. It felt like more than just blood rushing to his dick, as he felt like it was on fire. The material of his swimwear began to stretch along with his dick, as he stood up awkwardly, brushing briefly against Liam but far to concentrated on the fire in his cock to care. His hand massaged his cock almost against his will as a reaction to the pain, until he realised that the burning wasn't pain at all, but an intense pleasure that burned from his dick and radiated through to the rest of his body. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" shouted Liam in his face, "ARE YOU HAVING A FUCKING TUG RIGHT HERE IN FRONT OF ME YOU SICK FREAK?" Josh was too dazed by the pleasure clouding his brain to react, when he looked down to see that that the thin elastic of his swimwear was stretched so tightly over his cock, which was now more like a long, throbbing monster covered with veins, sitting on top of two orange sized balls, that the Speedo was pulled away from his body and the sides of said dick were clearly visible to the whole room. Jaws were dropping around the room and other guys became uncomfortably confined by their own clothing, when something entirely new started. Josh's skin looked as though thick worms were crawling underneath his skin, writhing and thickening all over him. Liam looked like he was about to pass out from shock and other guys in the room seemed equally surprised. The worms multiplied and grew, covering Josh's slender frame and thickening into broad bands of muscle, accompanied by a creaking noise which seemed to be the bones in his limbs lengthening and his shoulders pushing outwards. Large, diamond-shaped quads and sharply protruding calves supported Josh's new body, beneath the bulging Speedo, barely holding together to conceal very little of his enormous dick. His torso was framed by incredibly wide lats, tapering down to a thin waist, where a deeply cut v of muscle adorned the edges of 8 bricks of pure abdominal muscle, the tops of the highest of which were cast in shadow by the completely bulbous pectoral masses, which throbbed, swelled and contracted with even the slightest movement on Josh's behalf. Nipples that were so large they could almost fill a person's hand were spread over the peaks of the pecs and sent new signals of sensitivity to Josh's dazed mind every second. His shoulders looked like basketballs with deep cuts in the muscle stuck out on either side of him, holding the monstrous arms with incredibly large, deeply separated biceps with thick cords of veins twisting down them. He caught a glimpse of his own face in a nearby mirror and was struck by his own beauty. The squareness of the jaw he so admired in Liam was now present on his own immaculate face, leading down to a neck, nearly as thick as his head. His eyes, somehow the same shade of green, but now infinitely more eye catching below bushy, dark eyebrows to match his wavy, black hair. The whole room was silent in a stupor for what seemed like a minute, until a loud snapping noise shattered the peace to announce that Josh's now footlong monster cock had won the battle with the Speedo and was now out in the open for everyone to see, standing out proudly, curving towards the ceiling and dripping just the slightest bit of pre from the tip. In the next three seconds at least half the room came without any assistance from their hands. "What..." Josh began, and was taken aback by the deep pitch of his new voice. "What were you saying about my little dick, Liam?" "I- Er." Liam stuttered, his own hand inadvertently in his swimwear, massaging his own erection. "You were saying how you wanted to suck it, right?" Josh continued, having no idea where these words were coming from. "I don't…" "Well go on then," he said, the deep commanding tones echoing through the silent locker room, "Suck it. Right here. For everyone to watch." "Ohgodyes." blurted out Liam, as though he'd been lusting for permission, the words all blurring into one. He fell forward onto his knees and his lips wrapped around the head of Josh's python. His tongue began to work Josh's slit and even more waves of ecstasy pulsed through his muscular body. One of his hand fondled Josh's swollen balls while the other remained in his own, jizz soaked, swimwear. Josh felt his dick sliding down Liam's throat, so tight against his throbbing member, until he felt Liam's lips press against the base of his dick, and was clearly aware that this was not the older guy's first time servicing a cock. Liam's body slid back and forth for ages, as Josh wove his hands into the swim captains wavy locks and forced him onto the rod harder. Every muscle in the teen Adonis seized up, and he flexed his glutes, pushing forward as he felt himself reach climax. He felt the cum shoot though his massive rod and into the much smaller Liam. Such a sheer volume of thick, white semen was being forced into the sexy body that some spurted from his mouth and splattered the walls of the locker room. Liam slid off the end of the cock from the force of the ejaculation, and further cords of jizz slung themselves over his half naked body. Once again the watching crowd let loose their own seed. Josh flexed his powerful body as he moaned in pleasure. His face creased into a satisfied grin as his mind flooded with what lay in store, and what he could achieve with his wishes after that.
  22. js44

    The Jocks Rule II

    Tagline: A jock finds an ancient artifact to gain the godly powers of a race long extinct. Author's Note: A sequel to my old story from 2012 (now in the archive). This is the third of my bad boy corrupted stories, where guys get corrupted by supernatural powers and things of that sort. I have a bad habit of writing too many of these stories, but I tried my best to vary this one up a little bit, and I left it open for another chapter. Let me know criticism or even ideas for other stories like this. I like the whole muscle growth superpower story and don't see a ton of them around anymore, so hopefully it is fun for some of you guys reading. If it is a bad story, let me know that, too always trying to improve what little I do write these days. The Jocks Rule II Marcello thought he was going on a hike with his sporting buddies. He thought they were going to do a little hunting, a little swimming, a little camping for the weekend, something to celebrate their senior year's spring break. He never knew that his buddy Daniel had worked another plan in, and that Marcello would become a key part of it. When he hopped into Daniel's old VW Golf, he nodded to Larry already in the coupe's old back seat. “What's up, man?” Larry asked. School had been keeping Marcello busy and he was busy trying to get his academic requirements in order before college next year. “Ugh, just busy, dude,” Marcello said. “I'm lookin forward to spending a weekend with you guys. I had to miss track practice last week so I could get these college interviews in. Whatever.” Daniel and Larry exchanged glances with each other. “What?” Marcello asked. “Larry, did you bring your rifle and clay pigeons?” Larry cleared his throat before explaining to Marcello their plan, “Okay man, we're not exactly going to just hike and shoot and stuff. Last weekend, while you were out of town, Daniel and I found this sick cave under Lake Sereno. It's fuckin nuts man, but there's some cool shit in there but since you're the smartest and all that, we gotta show it to you, you might be able to understand what some of the shit on the walls and artifacts say. I don't want to say too much because you probably will think we're crazy, but just bear with us.” Daniel stepped on the gas as they pulled onto the highway out of town, Daniel was more excited to get there than Marcello realized. “Where is it?” Marcello asked. “We've gone fishing at that lake for years I've never seen anything like that.” “It's underwater,” Daniel answered, calmly. “Maybe a half mile out from the Forest Deck Pier. I think for a long time it had been covered by a rock or a sandtrap, but I accidentally anchored over it and it caused the dirt to cave in, that's when we discovered the cave.” “Hang on, hang on,” Marcello answered. Marcello was a critical thinker and a smart guy, and none of this made sense to him. “First, how could you get into the cave if it's underwater, you don't have any scuba tanks. And second do you really think you're the first person to discover something like this? Don't you think if you found something with valuable shit inside it it would have already been discovered?” Daniel simply nodded his head. “Nope.” He said. “The underwater portion is small, it only takes about 10 seconds to swim through and you're above the water line again, it's not flooded. And I don't know or care if anyone else has discovered anything there before, it's fuckin cool and there's shit in there that I want you to see.” Marcello just nodded his head. “Alright. But I didn't bring anything to swim in.” “We didn't either,” Larry said, “doesn't matter, we all know each other well enough.” Daniel pulled his car into the parking lot. “It'll be a quicker access if we walk to the other side of the lake, there will be less people to see us too, it's way more remote over there.” Daniel and Larry led Marcello through a familiar trail of thick, evergreen trees and shrubs on their way to the pointe at the lake. Marcello liked his friends well enough, but he and his buddies knew that, for a jock, Marcello was the smart, sophisticated, calm, less impulsive of the group. He must have gotten those traits from his mom, because his dad was always a redneck, impulsive, jock loving athlete who had conditioned Marcello to play and condition at every sport he could. Marcello enjoyed the competition too, but he knew he was always a little different from his friends and fellow athletes. Now in his senior year, Marcello was looking forward to finishing the year strong in his track and field sport—Daniel and Larry meanwhile wanted to slow down time and hopefully never end their high school careers. On the walk out Marcello's buddies continually talked about their meet the next day, the schools they'd be competing against, and who would have the biggest muscular mass to show off during the meet. Marcello finished his senior year strong, all honors classes, a good university acceptance, he played Football in the fall, Wrestling in the winter, and now track and field. He enjoyed track the most, it was easy and running as well as pole vaulting allowed him to work more automatically. Larry and Daniel led the way out to the shore before taking their shoes and socks off, undressing for the swim out to the cave entrance. Marcello knew these guys since his freshman year, they were always more into being athletic and building tough bodies, something Marcello happily took part in but never gave as much attention to it as his buds. They were also way more assertive and often acted like the class bullies in PE and with non-athletic outsiders. “Outsiders,” they called them, Marcello thought, nodding his head “no.” “Do you guys mind getting naked today? I have a towel in my trunk but I don't want your underwear soaking through my car,” Daniel requested. “If we get naked we can dry off once we get back and our clothes will already be dry. Obviously.” Larry chuckled as he dropped his gym shorts. “Dude, your car is a piece of junk! Who cares?” Marcello tossed his own t-shirt to the side as he sat on the soft, moist dirt to untie his tennis shoes and pull off his socks. “We've seen each other naked every day for nearly 4 years, I think we'll be fine,” he said. Larry just nodded his head in a appreciative “yes.” “Yeah we do know how to get naked,” Larry responded. Marcello looked up at his friend. Larry was a gymnast since his youth and continued to condition himself that way. He had a thick layer of muscle on his body though he was a shorter guy at only around 5'8”. “Have you been shaving yourself?” Marcello asked as he stood himself back up. Marcello towered over Larry with his own 6'3” frame. Marcello looked down at his own bare chest to see a decent amount of dark, curly hair branching from his breastbone out toward his thinly defined pecks, a treasure trail going down to his waistline. Larry nodded his head, “yeah man, the chest hair is bugging me. I don't mind it on my legs, but not on my uppers,” he said. Marcello could see the pores where Larry's hair used to be, but his masculinity showed itself below his waist, with his shaped quads and shins covered in blonde hair. Marcello's own body was nearly the opposite of Larry. Marcello hit both a second wave of height spurt as well as a hair growth a year or two ago. He now stood fairly tall but the resulting growth made him fairly lanky. Marcello's own muscle definition was there, but was much less defined than Larry or even Daniel's own. As Daniel stripped down to his own boxer briefs, Marcello briefly brought his attention to his other friend. What Daniel lacked in muscle definition he had in more noticeable masculine traits. His black hair covered his legs and chest in full force. The guy was a hairy fiend. Unlike Marcello and Larry, who tended to wear boxers, Daniel always wore dark, spotted boxer briefs, and he wasn't afraid to show its key defining part: his obnoxiously large package. “What?!” Daniel would always say as onlookers brought their attention to his stuffed balls and dick. He liked the attention his dick brought him, and he wasn't afraid to show it to girls or guys. Marcello had only been with a girl a couple of times, his on-and-off again girlfriend Cheri, but Daniel seemed to get laid all the time. And for the dudes? He used his packing authority to intimidate and ridicule, sometimes to Marcello's own amusement. Larry was the first to strip naked and tug on his flaccid dick. Marcello followed and Daniel soon followed after him, his large package flopping out as he pulled his briefs down to his ankles and rolled them into a ball. “I'll hide the clothes under this rock, here, guys,” Daniel said, motioning for his naked friends to toss them their own underwear. Marcello stretched himself and looked out to the shimmering lake to his right. Larry stepped into his view and carefully walked over the sticks and washed up rocks before wading into the lake, his hard, square ass rocking with his bulked quads. “Nice n' warm, dudes!” he said before taking the last step off the shore and into the deeper water. Marcello followed him turned to see Daniel closely behind him, holding his hand over his eyes to keep the sun's reflection from shining out his view. Marcello took a long dive into the deep water and dove under, enjoying the refreshing feeling of the water against his naked body. He could hear Daniel doing the same. Larry grabbed Marcello's shoulders and quickly shoved him under, horsing around as quickly as he could. Daniel soon followed suit and the three guys got into a combo splashing and free water wrestling match. Marcello couldn't easily be pulled under because his height enabled him to quickly evade his would-be captors, but Larry easily got hold of Daniel and held him under for a second before Daniel punched him in the abs, forcing him to let go. “Shh!” Marcello said, sinking his head close to the surface of water. “There's some fishermen out on the other side of the lake.” Daniel didn't seem to mind, “No biggie man,” he said, continuing to whisper. “here, let's wade over this way, I'll show you what we found.” The guys quietly kicked over to the center of the lake, carefully evading the fishermen off the shoreline. Marcello would have never known to look in this area of the lake for anything, his buddies very well may have found something special. “Alright, we have to dive under, you'll see the hole it's about 3 feet wide, swim into it and as soon as it makes a U-shaped turn back up, you'll notice it turns from sand to smooth stone, like a cave wall, you'll be able to get there in 10 seconds or less.” Marcello interrupted. “Wait,” he said. “let's go one at a time so if we can't find it we can turn back around again to breathe. Count to 15 before going next.” “Good idea,” Daniel said. “I'll go first,” and with that he dove under. Larry gave Marcello another playful splash. He looked at his friend and couldn't help but think this entire activity was silly, from looking for lost caves to swimming naked in the middle of the afternoon. But Marcello seemed to be able to do silly stuff and come out of the situation better off, so he figured, what the hell. Larry dove under and worked his way toward the cave. Marcello looked around and noticed the fisherman were gone, they must not have noticed three naked men in the lake. If he or his buddies got lost or drowned, it would take days for people to find them. Finally, Marcello dove and despite the murky water, he was able to find this 3 foot wide hole and he worked his way inside, quickly turning back up toward the surface and surprising himself into an open and clean smelling cave. He took a breath and saw his buddies ahead of him, dripping water down their naked bodies as Daniel had his arms crossed and Larry had them at his side. Larry turned around and offered Marcello his hand as he lifted him up from the entrance pool. “Damn, you guys were right,” Marcello said. He walked silently around the open cave. It was huge. And brilliant. Light shined in from a translucent glass ceiling on the corner of the cave, flooding the room with sunlight. The area where he entered was mostly empty, but Marcello saw as he approached the other side a lot of bizarre and interesting items: carved benches, odd shaped weapons, swords, shields, and magnificent and old paintings scattered around the floors and the walls. “You guys already saw all this, right?” Marcello asked, shaking himself dry as he carefully inspected each item. “Yeah,” Daniel answered, following him, “I'm sure there's more around here, but we saw a lot of stuff, we didn't take anything though, we couldn't understand the script that was written next to each item, and everytime we tried to take something...” Marcello found out as he picked up a sword on the ground and electric shock burned into his hand and he let go, snapping the weapon back into its held position against the wall. “What the fuck?” he asked. Daniel continued, “...yeah, that happened.” “Alright,” Marcello said, thinking critically, “let's see if we can read some of this.” Writing was scattered everywhere, but it was in a script that seemed to be a mix of Greek and some strange, hieroglyphic-like symbols. Marcello didn't really study either language so he wasn't familiar but toward the back of the cave stood a strange, rounded-shaped relic, and on the floor were foot marks where someone had stood, apparently long enough to erode the very rock beneath the floor. Marcello examined the footprints and carefully placed his two bare feet into each, Daniel and Larry carefully looking behind him. “We didn't go back this far earlier,” Larry said. The imprints shifted and molded against Marcello's feet and he felt a strange sensation within his own head, as if someone was reading it. Suddenly, the wall's language began to shift, the lettering and symbols moving and morphing into a new script. Latin script. Something Marcello could understand! His eyes opened wide at the paranormal occurrence happening before him. He couldn't believe it. As the lettering slowed, the rock moved one again away from his feet and Marcello stepped toward the wall and carefully read what had been translated, he assumed, for him. A Human. Here. After so many years. Welcome. We are the Zets, we have placed our lifeforce here for your kind to one day find. Some have discovered this place before but none were worthy. Until you. When our race was conquered by the Ledomites, we were forced to flee our home planet, and deposited our artifacts across your planet waiting for the perfect species to merge with. You will be our first. We were warriors once, ultimate immortals, and we need the same strength and character to carry on our purpose. An athlete. A man who is capable of athletic pride and competition, who has the character of a warrior and the shamelessness of his body. You are the first to walk to our presence in your One True form. Because of this, You shall gain our gifts of power. Marcello couldn't believe what he was reading. It was absolutely ludicrous. As Larry and Daniel approached more words began to appear under the script. Two more men of honor arrive with their True Form ready. Once the First of You merges with our power, the other two will have the ability to earn our gifts. Take these and only these. After you have merged with us you can come back to this place, your new sanctuary. The rock bench shifted in front of Marcello and his friends and like an earthquake three distinct cracks formed and three previously hidden artifacts emerged from the bench. “Holy shit,” Marcello whispered, “Guys, what the fuck is happening.” Out of the bench three green, rocky half cylinders morphed and dropped in front of Marcello. They were small, rounded half shaped cups, almost like a cup put into an athletic supporter. Once again the writing shifted. These are our first artifacts. Each of you take them. The first of you must wear it first in front of a human victim, any male form with which to power yourself. Then the second must repeat, and finally the third. You must do this in your True Form, and your victim must be in his own True Form. You must make a pact to do this within the next 3 moon cycles, lest you forfeit our powers and our gifts. Marcello was in a daze, partially brought on by the writing in front him, partially brought on by this situation in the first place. What was this place? Daniel took a step closer and nodded his head. “Yes, of course,” he said in a daze. “What are you talking about?” Marcello asked, pushing his friend back. “I don't know what the fuck this is, but you saw what's happening here, there's fucking powers built into this place, and into these jock cups, they are made for us. Young men who are jocks and happy to be naked. Of course we're going to take them, of course we're going to use them. “And what the fuck is this talk about human victims?” Larry asked, joining the whispers. “I don't know yet,” Daniel said, “but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to join this society of, uhh, Zets. Short of killing someone, I don't think anything bad will happen, I think we need to put these things on our dicks in front of some other naked dudes, we use some of their lifeforce to gain the Zets powers.” “Are you FUCKING NUTS?!” Marcello asked, looking around to see if anyone had followed them in. “We are standing NAKED in a cave with magical words morphing in front of us, and it's says we need to steal someone's LIFE to gain the powers!” “No, it didn't, it just said 'victim',” Daniel said. “And anyway, we can figure that out later, let's take these things then we'll figure out what to do next.” Daniel reached out to grab the rock and bone-encrusted cup but when he grabbed it he immediately grabbed his arm and doubled over. “Oww!” he said. Looking down at his arm, Marcello noticed a roman numeral “II” tattoo grow onto his skin, and another one onto his waist near his pubic hair. Daniel moved his hand and touched his waist. “I'm number II,” Daniel said. “You've gotta be I Marcello, and that makes you III, Larry.” Marcello breathed a sign of stress before reaching his own arm out and grabbing the cup, it too burned his hand but the cup easily lifted off of the bench and into his possession. When he did so, Marcello had a brief flash, like a dream, of a powerful and immortal soldier, someone who seemed to be able to do essentially anything. “Woah,” Marcello said, stepping back. The fantasy grew inside him, it was orgasmic. Feeling more enthusiastic about his own potential powers, Marcello smiled. “Okay guys, let's take these,” he said. Daniel lifted his arm back and grabbed his own cup, feeling the same fleeting fantasy as Marcello had. Larry followed third, and earned his mark as well as his own vision. “Oh fuck yeah,” Larry said, now more enthusiastic as was Marcello and Daniel. The three jocks smiled at each other but quickly their attention was brought back to the writing for one last time. As men of strength in your True Form, you must make your pact. Deposit your seed into our artifact and find your human victim within 3 moon cycles. The bench before them shifted once again and stretched into a mini altar, one each in front of Marcello and his friends. Marcello looked to the left and the right and saw a strange, claw like table form, a hand directly in front of each of their crotches, perfectly positioned to hold the cups each of them had in their hands. “What is it saying, exactly, Marcello?” Larry asked. Daniel answered for him, “it wants us to swear an oath to ourselves and to the Zets that we will do this within 3...moon cycles...” “Full moon cycles,” Marcello said, staring at his alter. “That's 3 months or so, plenty of time,” in a daze, Marcello continued. “We need to promise to ourselves and also to the Zets. And we need to jizz into the cups now so that they become a permanent part of our being.” The guys looked at their own cups before setting each of them down onto the claw-like altar pedestals. The hands closed on the cups and held them in place. “Holy shit,” Marcello said. Daniel ran his hands from his shoulders down his chest and toward his package, closing his eyes and dreaming of the powers he could soon gain. “Guys, this isn't going to take me long, I hadn't wacked in a few days because I thought I was gonna get laid tonight, but, this is way more important.” Marcello had masturbated in front of his friends exactly one time before and it was a drunken, limp biscuit-style prank they were playing on the non-jocks to see who could jizz the fastest. This was completely different, but Daniel was already growing a stiffy and positioning himself. Marcello turned back to Larry who was dazzlingly tugging at his own member. “We gotta, dude,” he said. The vision had of Marcello's powers were making him horny, and his friends own erections were adding to his enthusiasm. Marcello set both of his hands on his waist and rubbed the sides of his butt before moving his hands toward his package, lifting his flaccid dick and feeling his balls, tenderly touching them as his dick started moving outward and higher. His balls pulled against his body and a shudder of pleasure went through Marcello. His breathing increased as he started pumping his dick, rubbing his left hand against his balls as he started jerking himself faster and faster. “Okay,” Daniel said between breaths, his eyes shut, “I'm almost ready, I want the power, the power!” he said louder. “Just a second,” Marcello said, his own breathing increasing, “I'm almost there,” “Make sure you're, hmm, umm, aiming,” Larry added, opening his eyes. The three jocks moved their feet and positioned their cocks in front of the waiting cups. “Fuck yeah!” Daniel whispered as his cock chocked and spewed his semen onto the cup, his body quaking in orgasm. The sight trigger's Marcello's own orgasm as he followed suit, Larry to the right of him following right behind. Marcello kept his attention on the cup as his dark yellow and clear liquid fell onto the cup, the cup soaking it in as it began to glimmer. Daniel wiped his dick into the cup and Marcello and Larry soon followed, getting the last of their seed onto the artifact. The altars snaked back into the wall, dropping the cups onto the floor. Marcello picked his up and noticed the same roman numeral I inscribed on the inside of the cup. Its shape changed somewhat, shrinking just slightly in size to match his flaccid package. Marcello was tempted to wear it immediately but Daniel stopped him. “Wait dude!” he said. “We need to do this outside of the sanctuary, and in front of another naked male. We can find some guys to try this on tomorrow after PE, but not now. Marcello looked down at the cup before looking at his naked buddies examining their own, each with their own personalized numerals. “Okay then,” Marcello said, agreeing, “I'll try it first tomorrow, then you guys can follow. But who do I try it on?” The three of them began to smile in union: “Evan,” they said together. Evan was a short man syndrome, crazy, hyper active non-jock who was in their PE class. The guy was short, skinny and vastly underdeveloped, but he didn't let that stop him from being intrusive, rude, petty, mean and selfish. He beat up on everyone even when he couldn't actually hurt anyone and always started fights. He was particularly mean to Larry but had picked more than a few fights with Marcello and Daniel. Marcello never picked fights with anyone and only saw Evan as a mild annoyance, but perhaps it was time for Marcello to show the dweeb who was boss. Marcello led the way back through the cave entrance and to the shoreline. Their clothes safely sat near the shoreline as the jocks toweled off. “Okay,” Daniel said, planning their time tomorrow, “we're all getting naked in the showers tomorrow. Hide your cups in your towels and once we corner Evan, Larry, throw Marcello his cup. Once Marcello changes I don't think we'll have a problem finding another victim for me or you.” “You take PJ, I'll take Charlie,” Larry added, “they should be easy targets.” “If I gain these powers right after putting this thing on,” Marcello added, “we'll have everyone's solemn attention, it's going to be a complete hypnotic show.” Marcello's dick started rising again with the thought of merging with the Zets powers. He didn't know who they were or where they came from, but that vision was real enough for him to try this. – PE class did a round of ultimate Frisbee in the muddy, rainy afternoon, so it was easy for the class to take time to shower after class. As the guys and girls separated, Marcello, Daniel and Larry gave themselves long glances as they rethought their plan from earlier. Larry would carry in all three artifacts under his towel and the three guys would be the last to walk in. No one ever took the shower-head next to Evan because he immediately started fighting with them, so Marcello knew it would be the perfect time to corner him. Daniel and him would take the shower head next to Evan and when he started fidgeting Daniel would corner him, giving him room for Marcello to place the artifact on his crown jewels. The guys lined onto their lockers and stripped of their PE uniforms. Marcello asked Daniel, “this might be the last time we're clothed,” as he pulled off his compression shorts. “The Zets were naked warriors, you remember what we saw yesterday?” Daniel nodded peeling down his own compressions and removing his t-shirt, “I love being naked, that's why we were chosen. That's why were the men in 'True Form' heheh.” Larry unfolded his towel and the three naked jocks set their artifacts into the towel, larry closing it. The three of them walked toward the shower corridor, hearing already Evan taunt and bother everyone near him. He was singing his song “You're a piece of shit...” something he made up while he flung soap onto every guy bypassing him. He would get shoves from the bigger guys around him, but nothing to really stop him from his menacing behavior. Daniel took the showerhead to the right of Evan as Marcello parked himself next to Daniel. Evan turned around to look at the two jocks and smiled, “Clean up, bitches!” he shouted, throwing his soap bar onto Daniel's forehead. His face quit smiling, however, when Daniel approached him. Daniel shoved the smaller Evan into the corner as Evan kneed him in the naked dick. “Ah, shit!” Daniel said between breaths, “you're...gonna, fuckin pay for that!” Larry unrolled the cup from his towel outside the gang shower and tossed it like a frisby toward Marcello, catching it easily with one hand. “What the fuck are we doing here, guys? Maybe we should let Evan alone, he's just a little twerp.” Marcello said. Larry shook his head no as he joined Daniel in holding the little guy in the corner of the shower with one hand. “Stay put you, we have a purpose for you,” he said before turning his attention back to Marcello. “Dude, we made a pact last night, this thing is centuries old and the ceremony requires it to be this way. You were the chosen one. Just try it on.” Marcello's surroundings drifted away as he stared into the intoxicating void within the cup. It seemed to encircle his mind with its power, its neverending attractiveness. “Okay,” He said looking back ath the jocks. Turning around he noticed the guys around him starting to look over Marcello's shoulder. Wondering what he had in his hands and what he was doing with hit to Evan. Marcello had reached the point of no return, if this didn't work he would be screwed, probably expelled, if it did work all of their lives were going to change forever. He lowered the cup toward his package. “You're the man!” Daniel shouted, “put it on and show Evan who's the boss.” Evan couldn't stop from taunting the lanky tall guy in front of him. “You're fucking idiot, Marcello.” he said, “when that thing makes you look like a dork I'll be the one tackling you to the ground.” Marcello's heart started racing as he pushed the cup closer to his dick, he could hear a voice begging him too, promising to reward him of powers he had never before imagined. He turned toward Daniel with a smile on his face. “You gotta look at Evan. You're tall enough to corner him don't look at me, dude!” Daniel said, remembering the instructions carefully, and carefully trying not to get himself hurt. “Point your artifact toward him!” Marcello turned back to the naked Evan, preoccupied with trying to fight Larry off of him. “As soon as it goes on, I'm backing away, look right at Evan,” Larry added, ignoring the little guy fidgeting with his arm. Marcello took a step closer to him, the two men, though both naked, couldn't have been more different. Evan was a feisty, underdeveloped, loud, menacing looking kid who pushed what little weight he had around to disturb and annoy as many people as possible—common short man syndrome traits; while Marcello was tall, skinny, hairy, quiet and had a secret and quiet strength to him, his muscles just barely defined underneath his dark, bronze skin. “Just stay still for me, Evan, this will be over in a minute,” Marcello said, chucking, his legs switching, his body asking him to put on the powerful artifact. As expected, the cup suctioned onto his dick and peeled itself onto his balls as soon is laid against his body “Woah!” Marcello shouted as it began folding over his package, the wooden and bone artifact liquifying itself into a putty-like mass as it spread over his balls and deep into his crevices between his legs. Marcello started feeling it around on his balls; his first reaction was to pull it off, the substance was menacing, disturbingly scary even, but he remembered what he heard last night, what the ceremony required, what he needed to continue to do. The cup stretched around his dick and up his pubes and started cracking like dry sticks, pieces of wood quickly liquifying into a puddle of soft energy, the power finally breaking free from its mold. The energy was surging his body with new thoughts, dark thoughts that he had never before even dreamed of; thoughts of evil, of dominance, of being a master of all things. The thoughts flooded his mind incomprehensibly, but he was surprised to find he could somehow make sense of it, though he could also feel his humanity leaving him, emotions and empathy falling away into purpose and control. He didn't mind at all, it was making him happier than he had ever been before. He was the Man! He was the hottest shit around, he told himself. He had a newly-formed purpose and an ability formerly inconceivable before now. Marcello loved the act of getting naked with his buddies, but this somehow felt different. He felt as if being naked and putting on this artifact of an all-powerful race was perfectly meant for him. And the energy filling him seemed to agree as well. Marcello watched the mass fold outward toward his legs and between them to his ass crack. The liquid energy pushed like puddy out to his waist and began branching around his skinny butt, stretching over it like a pair of briefs. Or a loincloth. Marcello was happy to witness it, he felt great, he loved being naked and loved having the attention of his friends right on him. The ceremony had a purpose and the purpose was to push the naked powers of the Zets into Marcello himself. Marcello let his hands go from the cup and enthusiastically allowed it to envelop him. As the artifact started cracking and liquifying, a dark green light started flashing like a spotlight at a stage, a bright, directional light. He could feel its purpose exactly. “Evan, of course!” Marcello told himself. His victim! His sacrifice. He directed his dick toward Evan and let out a scream of pleasure, a foreign and frightening sound, a mix between a shrieking horse and a deep, low rumble of thunder. Marcello's back twisted in the direction of Evan and his foot automatically stepped toward his victim, Marcello moving automatically, the power itself now directing him. His hips rocked forward as the putty thined around his ass, connecting on his backside. Marcello's dick was now clearly visible behind the thin powerful substance, and electric green light flashing right onto Evan. Evan, for the first time, had a flash of horror cross his mind. Up until this point he thought he had a silly prank he could play on the naked jocks. But for the first time, a strike of fear hit him as the green light felt like an oven wave of heat flash across his own naked stomach and waist. “What?! Oh my god, get me out of here!” he shouted. The dark green light crossed his bare chest and focused on his waist, lighting it and his small dick with a dark, mossy color. Evan's eyes opened wide with fear and pain. He couldn't look away. Larry and Daniel found themselves in shock and horror as well. Their friend's calm and stable demeanor was quickly turning into pure ferociousness. Marcello took another step toward Evan as the light brightened against Evan. “Oh God!! ARGH!” Evan shouted in pain, tears flowing from his eyes. “What's happening to me!!” Evan looked down at his hands as Marcello's friends and the other PE guys surrounded the scene unfolding before them. Evan's skin was turning gray and pale, he seemed to be aging quickly. Drying out. His skin loosened and dried, cracking like wood. His eyes glassed over as his muscular frame flattened into a skinny, dry twig. Evan's small dick started folding up and into his body as his hair folded back into his skin. His teeth receded as his body stiffened like an old board leaning against the side of a building. His breathing stopped as he froze into place. “Oh my god, it's actually working. Back up, guys, back up!” Daniel shouted. The guys tried backing away but couldn't look away at the horrific scene unfolding. The body that was Evan mummified into a decaying, skeletal corpse as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his hair receded, the flashing green light now completely encompassing the decaying body, hardening into dust. Daniel turned his attention to Marcello as his friend's body started gaining height. His loincloth powered friend walking, in a trance, closer to Evan. “You're mine, human, come to me!” Marcello groaned under his deepening voice. Evan's body started dissolving into a dark green dust as is swept and surrounded Marcello, wrapping over his body like a tornado, folding into the cup as the cup itself wrapped over and wound tightly onto Marcello's loins. “Heh, heh, HAHAHAH!” Marcello started cackling. “Yes, I am complete, the powers, yes THE POWERS!” Marcello's back started cracking and growing as the tornado swept him into a fierce firestorm of power. As it did, Evan's lifeforce entered into his body causing it to explode with power and muscle. His cackling got louder as his body expanded with muscle, sinew wrapping down his tall, dark back and exploding his shoulders and pecs, lengthening his spine and thickening his neck. As he extended his arms his biceps pumped with a thick contours of sinew building a hard rock over his arm and pushing his veins out to his skin. His hands cracked and grew as he turned himself around in his powerful glory to look at his friends. The cup was electricifying over his dick . Marcello's chest pushed out as his nipples grew in size, the light fuzz of chest hair over him growing now growing further, thick and manly down to his quickly deepening abs. Marcello's thin and tight body was pushing out with hard muscle, six well-defined abs separating from each other topped at his pecs and down to his waist, just in time for his quads to tighten and push out, creating football-sized muscles on his upper legs. Marcello started twisting his body more quickly as his hair filled out over his pubes and down to his quads and shins, his lower legs quickly lengthening and growing in size, pushing the jock to 6'6” height. “Oh fuck yes! MORE! MOOORE!” he shouted as his dick started twitching. It lengthened and dropped low as his balls followed suit, the cup stretching with his massive package, his virility growing with his body as his testicles gained weight and mass. Marcello couldn't help but touch it and as he did he felt his circumcised head quickly folded behind his new godly foreskin, regrowing over his dick. Hair grew between his quads and back to his ass as it filled with muscle, matching the power of his thick legs. The material of the cup snapped into tendrils of power as the electricity engulfed Marcello's loins, feeding their way into his body by way of his ass and pecker. Now free to touch, Marcello grabbed his erected dick with force and pulled, each stroke of his hand vibrating his body with surges of masculine pleasure. He couldn't help it nor did he care that he was masturbating in front of his friends, the pleasure was too much. Every pump afforded him a shudder of pure orgasmic pleasure, each pump heightening his sensations and opening his mind to the powers his body was gaining. With every pump Marcello left the confines of human thinking—his formerly stable, mature and sensitive self was giving way to the cup of the Zets, a powerful and corrupted race, Marcello now realized. Marcello all too eager to gain it. But his friends were unfamiliar with the corruption wrecking their former friend. The naked beast started generating a blue electric glow around him and quickly a burst of electric light flashed out of Marcello's crotch as he began to crest, hitting Daniel in the chest, throwing the jock to the other side of the open shower room. Daniel landed on the floor, holding his head. “What the fuck?” he said, trying to get up, dizzied by the burst of power that pushed him. Larry started backing away from Marcello as the transforming god realigned himself toward Larry, throwing another burst of power-laden light onto him, slamming him into the shower wall. “Ugh, fuck,” Larry said, dazed out. The other jocks began to flee the shower corridor, running as quickly as they could away from the transforming god. One jock, Jonathan, couldn't get out of the corridor before the masturbating Marcello grabbed him with his arm, throwing him onto the shower floor. Jonathan's naked butt slammed onto the floor and slid back toward Larry, still trying to lift himself from his own knocked out daze. They stared up at Marcello as his eyes formed now a glowing red. Marcello, or the corrupted god Marcello was becoming, made a menacing smile as the jock's muscular legs began to buckle at the orgasm of his own pleasure. As his quads quivered and knees shaked, Marcello's left hand moved ever faster over his erected dick, droplets of precum starting to drip from his massive head. “What the fuck?!” Larry shouted as he grabbed Jonathan and slid him across the floor. They reached the back of the shower but to his dismay Larry found the rear fenced door shut. He had to remove the padlock, but his hand wouldn't fit through the gate to turn the combo. “Oh shit, we gotta get out of here! HELP HELP US!!” he shouted, Jonathan trying to lift himself up. As soon as he turned around, however, he grabbed Larry's shoulders, “FUCK DUDE!” Jonathan shouted, “he's right behind us!” But to their surprise, Marcello stopped of any further violence. The blue streaks of electric surrounded him completely as he continued to jack off, the human growing further and further in size and strength. Marcello could feel the Zets immortal powers sink into his body, and he was completely content with his new corrupted state. He let out a low groan as his dick began spewing onto the tile floor, volleys of cum landing on the shower floor, “MMM YESS!” he shouted, lost in his own masculine pleasure. The blue streaks of electric power sapped back into its master's body as Marcello let go of his erected dick. Taking the time to examine his new form in all its naked, godly glory. Larry couldn't help but stare, the warrior was perfect, his hair covering his legs and ass, the treasure trail perfectly snaking up to his curly chest, deep adonis belt pointing directly down to his massive package. He was the definition of a masculine immortal. Marcello stretched and smiled in his newfound powers before smiling at Larry and Jonathan at the end of the hall. “Oh Daniel,” he shouted, “it's your turn...” Larry had calmed from the calamity that was happening moments before, but he was afraid to continue onward. Daniel's corruption would be 10x as worse as Marcello's with his enthusiasm for the power already in full force. When coach walked into the shower room to respond to the fear and telling of Marcello's classmates, he sensed the panic and disorder running through the Coach's mind. Marcello reached his arm up and knocked him out, putting him into a tranced sleep so they could continue undisturbed. Daniel walked beside his power-ridden friend, holding his own cup and ready to go. He tossed Larry his III cup. Larry cleanly caught it and stood staring at the artifact, waiting now for his turn, entranced by the powers it held within. “Jonathan,” Daniel said, “you're the only naked one around and I really want these powers.” “What the fuck?” Jonathan asked. “Daniel, wait,” Larry said, “we can find someone else. Jonathan is your friend.” Marcello stopped Daniel. “I locked the doors in the back of the locker room. Everyone is trapped. Go find PJ or Charlie. Jonathan is a naked jock, we will have join join our ranks shortly.” Jonathan felt relieved as he looked into Marcello's eyes, he could feel the powers that Marcello meant to give him. He wanted it more than anything. Marcello forced open the rear gate to the corridor and Daniel stepped casually through to find a victim for himself. Marcello pulled Jonathan toward him and slapped his ass. “You can become a god too, you have the body and the personality.” Marcello realized his new mission, to transform as many humans into Zets as possible, and to spread his new race's powers. He could sense one other man from far away already transformed, and as soon as his two friends met with their powers, they would join up and determine a plan to conquer the humans. Larry watched as Daniel walked the corridor to the lockers and cornered CJ. He lifted the cup toward his now-erected dick, ready to try the powers on for himself. In an automatic motion, Larry grabbed his own cup and followed, ready to be the third.
  23. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Yo, I finished up this next chapter early so I'm posting it . I planning on writing the next one and posting it on Wednesday too. This section was really fun to write. I gets pretty intense in some places and I know you guys will love it. So here it is. A College Weight Room Story: The Path to Gains Monday: Resurgence Part 9 I’m standing in the locker room. I’m completely nude, but I don’t care. For the first time I don’t care if anyone walks in and sees me naked. My body looks great so why should I care? My pecs bulge out of my chest so much that my nipples point down. My lats are so swollen that they get in the way of my biceps. My biceps are rock hard with vascular veins pumping their way down my arms. My abs are rock hard, my ass is thick and my legs are as huge as tree trunks. I look down at my erect cock and smile; who wouldn’t want this cock? The locker room door suddenly opens and I look up to see Ethan walking in. His eyes bulge out of his head as soon as he sees. I give him a cocky smile, almost laughing at the bewildered look in his eyes. He stands frozen by the door. “Uh…What’s up man?” he says. He looks a bit embarrassed. His face is turning red, but he shouldn’t be. He’s not the one without any clothing. “Just getting changed into my compression shorts,” I say as I point to the bright red shorts on the bench. I turn towards him and continue to speak. My erect dick points in his direction and I know he is trying his best not to stare. “You gotten really big, man. Way bigger than when we first met. It’s amazing.” He slowly walks into to the bench beside me and takes his bag off his back. He starts removing clothes from it, not taking his eyes off of me once. “Like what you see?” I ask. His face turns red. I feel amazing. I love having this effect on people and when it’s a bro like Ethan, it’s even more amazing. “I…I…I want to see what your muscles looked like flexed…” “Really now?” I say with a smirk. “Yes…Could you flex for me? “I’m glad you asked.” I make my way closer to him and flex my pecs. They bounce up and down and I notice his breath hitch. “Have a feel,” I say. Within a second his hand is on my hard pec. He squeezes and I flex beneath his hand. I can feel my dick getting harder. I lift my right arm and flex my bicep. His hand makes its way to my biceps and he slowly caresses his hand across it. “You’re like a rock,” he says. “It’s not the only thing that’s a rock right now,” I say. We both look down at my dick. “Yeah, I can see.” BAM!! Ethan and I both jump. The bathroom door burst open with such force that the noise echoes through the entire locker room. We both look to see who it is. It’s Troy… and he is angry. He rushes over to us, his shoulders hunched up, grabs Ethan by the arms, and tosses him across the room. “Troy!” I scream. VRRRRRRRTTT…VRRRRRRRT…VRRRRRRTT… My eyes burst open and I see the ceiling. The sun’s morning glow caresses every surface of my bedroom. My phone is ringing. It’s what woke me up. I immediately grab my phone and answer the call. “Hello?” “Yo dude, what’s up?” “Ethan? It’s like...” I check the time on my phone. “9 am.” “Yeah, well I texted you and didn’t get an answer. I saw Troy after my 8am class this morning and he says today is a good day for a little wrestling.” “Really? What time?” “He’s only free at 10:30. He has a class at 12:30 and he wants to shower and get lunch before.” “That’s a little over an hour from now! I haven’t even eaten breakfast yet, Ethan!” “Well let’s go eat ASAP and meet him at the gym.” “Okay,” I say. I feel a sharp pain in my groin and look down at my swelling cock. I’m rock hard from my dream. I can’t ignore it either. “Give me 20 minutes to get there.” “Aight, cool. See ya man.” “See ya.” I hang up the phone and my hand is immediately on my dick. I usually sleep nude so it was easily accessible. Tossing the blanket to the side, I hastily begin tugging at my ever swelling meat. My body is craving the satisfaction of a good cum and I can already feel the energy building up in my body. I feel the energy flow from my cock up into my chest and my breathing gets heavier as this familiar spark of energy rushes through my veins. My hand continues to stroke even faster. Precum begins to leak from my cock onto my lower abs. The veins in my dick protrude as my blood pumps harder. I’m getting close. I’m moaning now. I can’t control myself because of how good I feel. The pressure in my nuts rises, the tension getting stronger and stronger and suddenly I burst. I suck in a large gasp of air as streams of cum begin to shoot out of my dick. My back arches as one jet, then two, and then another three jets of cum shoot out of my dick. The first shoots over my head onto my pillow, the second onto my shoulder and the last three onto my chest. My arm drops and I start to relax. “Fuck,” I say breathlessly. It’s been a while since I came this much. My breathing is slowed and more relaxed now so I grab the shirt I took off last night to clean the splattered cum off my chest. Thoughts of my dream start to come back to me. I imagine Troy throwing Ethan again and my chest aches. I could never see those two hating each other. Why was Troy angry and what does it mean? I have a bad feeling…a feeling like something horrible could happen, but I don’t know what could cause it to happen or why it would happen it all. Whatever may happen, I’m sure it has something to do with an altercation between Ethan and Troy. I look at the time on my phone. I have 10 minutes left to get dressed and then go meet Ethan. I go to my closet, put on some jeans and a T-shirt, and pack my backpack with my singlet. Then I’m out of my room and out of my frat house in a flash. “Bro, what’s on your mind?” Ethan says. We had been eating for about 10 minutes and our conversations had been shortened by periodic silences caused by me being lost in thought. He jerks me out of my thoughts and I look at him startled. “Nothing man. I’m just thinking of a dream I had.” “What was it about?” “Uhh… Just school stuff. I dreamt that I failed a test in my criminology class and then I had to drop out of school because I couldn’t finish my Criminal Studies major and then I died…” “Whoa, man! It was just a dream! None of that will actually happen.” Whew! He fell for it. There is absolutely no way I am telling him about the violent part of the dream. Maybe one day I’ll tell him about the worshiping. I love muscle worship, but I don’t know if Ethan does. Not yet. “I know. I’ll get over it. So how was your night?” I say as I scoop scrambled eggs into my mouth. I want the conversation to change. “Well after basketball yesterday I showered, ate dinner, and just chilled in my room. It was a pretty laxed evening. Not to be too personal, but every time I exercise I get a rush of testosterone so you can figure out what happened when I got alone in my room.” I laugh at him not so subtly admitting that he masturbated. “Bro, trust me,” I say. “I totally understand. This morning was pretty hard for me… wait I didn’t mean that! Shit!” Ethan spits out the milk he is drinking and we both burst into laughter. Ethan even ends up coughing a little. “Dude, I’m sure you said what you meant. I bet you were pretty hard,” Ethan says with a wink. This just puts me in another uncontrollable fit of laughter. It’s moments like these that I believe Ethan wouldn’t mind at all if I asked him to flex for me or vise-versa. Before we know it, it’s time to go wrestle and Ethan and I make our way over to the gym from the dining hall. We head over to the locker room as soon as we enter the gym and I begin to remember my dream again. I shrug off the thoughts. There’s no way that will happen. I open the locker room door to see one single person in the room, Troy, and he’s standing completely naked. He still has the round, full ass that I remember. His back is turned to us Ethan and I as he rummages through his locker. I look over to Ethan who seems pretty chill. Nothing unusual about a naked guy in the locker room right? He turns around and sees us. “Vonny!” he says. He gives me a huge smile and begins to walk over to me, still nude. His dick flops around as he comes near and I freeze up. He brings me into a tight bear hug and all I can think of is how strange this must look to Ethan, but this is typical Troy. He still feels as firm and strong as he did before. I guess muscle regression takes a little longer for him. “How have you been, bro?” I say as he lets go. “Hanging in there?” He looks over to Ethan. “What’s up, Ethan?” He walks over to Ethan, still naked, and gives him a handshake. “Nothing much, man,” Ethan says nervously. “I’m ready to kick both of your asses though!” I guess that nervousness was temporary. “Oh, really?” Troy and I both say. “Then let’s put our singlets on and wrestle!” I say to Ethan. We quickly change. Troy puts on his tightest grey compression shorts and a tight grey compression shirt. Ethan sports a dark blue singlet and I a black one. Once we are dressed we make our way over to the mats. “And so the fun begins,” says Troy. “Ethan, you and I go first. Winner takes on Von.” He moves his way to the mat and Ethan takes his position in front of him. I watch as the two beasts go at each other. Troy seems to have the upper hand. He’s about 30 pounds heavier than Ethan. I remember him saying he was 170 pounds in the past, but I have no clue how much mass he has lost since then. He is still strong though. He flips Ethan onto his back and slams him on the floor. I hear the breath leave Ethan’s body, but he doesn’t give up. He slips from beneath Troy and latches onto his back. Troy struggles beneath Ethan’s weight and lets out a deep grunt, his face turning red from the pressure. I watch in amazement as these two monsters go at each other and I feel the familiar surge of energy in my groin. “You can’t beat me, bro!” Troy says. He flips onto his back with Ethan on it. Ethan lets out a loud puff of air and he lets go. “Damn!” he says. Within a second Troy pins Ethan down again. I watch him struggle beneath him, the sweat dripping down his face. It’s nice to know that Troy still has his strength. After a few more rounds, Troy comes out as victor and it’s my turn to go up against him. “I thought you were top dog, Ethan!” I say to taunt him. “Guess today just isn’t my day, man,” he says. I look down and see a hard bulge protruding through his tight singlet. I smirk at it. “Alright,” Troy says pointing at me. “Your turn!” He looks at me with such determination. It has been so long since I’ve seen his eyes this bright. “Let’s go! Bring it” I say, edging him on. I move to the mat and suddenly he is on top of me. His thick pecs connect with mine and I feel his arms wrap around my back. His grip is strong and there is nothing I can do to break out. I miss how powerful he was and it seems that his strength hasn’t wavered at all. He is too strong, even for me and my body is repeatedly slammed and pinned to the ground. I’m amazed and in no way upset by his display of power. After a few rounds I am sweaty and tired, but Troy seems even more pumped. I can tell he misses this. He must miss exerting himself and feeling powerful like he is now. I feel a little sad for him. After he is finishes whooping me, we towel off. “That was the most fun I have had in a while,” Troy says to me and Ethan. “You’re telling me,” I say. “This is great!” I finally have my bro back. I feel that Ethan, Troy and I could be bros for life. “So Von, you wanna go for a workout? “says Ethan. “It’s only 12:00 and I don’t have class for a couple hours.” “That sounds great man,” I say. “You heading to lunch Troy?” “Yup, I’ll see you guys around.” He fists bumps us both and we separate. Ethan and I walk into the weight room and Troy out the gym door. We make our way over to a weight bench by the window. “So Ethan, I noticed you were a little happy down there earlier?” I say teasing. “Bro!” he says embarrassed. “You know how things get in the heat of the moment. Popping a boner is—“ He suddenly stops speaking. He is staring out of the window. I look in the direction he is looking and see what he sees. Troy is outside of the gym and he is yelling loudly at a girl in front of him. His back is turned to us and I can see the girl’s face. She has curly strawberry blond hair, freckles and glasses. It’s his girlfriend, Terri, and she is beyond pissed. They don’t notice us through the window, but I can hear their every word. “I told you never to go here again! You know I don’t want you looking like a fucking freak, Troy!” Terri says and begins to storm off. “I wasn’t working out, babe!” Troy cries. “I was wrestling with my friends!” He begins to follow her and their voices begin to fade as they walk away from the gym. “Wrestling!? Who wrestles!? I know that’s a lie. I know you are covering up and you were really in the weight room.” “But I fucking wasn’t!” “Don’t lie to me! Why can’t you do this one thing for me Troy!?” He speaks but he’s too far away to hear now. I stand beside Ethan in shock. I never imagined their relationship so…fiery. Ethan and I just look at them as they walk away. “What a bitch,” he says.
  24. Most recent chapter: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster Chapter 16: Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After Casey’s first workout demonstration for The Nineteen that afternoon promised to be brutal – and awesome - as he had hoped it would be. He knew he would love every moment of it. He knew it would almost make up for the confusion and fear he had felt the night before. He would be as strong as a god, sailing through every lift, every rep, every set with strength he didn’t know he had. Almost make up for it. Not quite. But maybe afterwards, he could pose for them? Just a little? In the locker room, alone, and about to go before these crazy huge guys once again, he ruminated. He was, if he admitted it to himself, not a little leery about these guys. After all, he had a big black eye. And just about 12 hours ago, thick, creamy jets of cum had shot from18 firehose cocks and plopped down on him while he lay tangled in a sweaty muscle mass mess with Karim Abdul, both of them with swelling black eyes and bloody noses. Kind of a strange introduction to the world of supreme muscle he had been looking forward to for two years – and had been fantasizing about for far longer. “I wonder what Miles would say,” he thought to himself. He had glanced at his black eye in the mirror in the locker room. It was fully open, not bloodshot, just rimmed with black and blue. Not too bad. Actually, it looked fucking hot. He quickly did a side chest. Bam. Nips high. Rivers of striations. Yeah. Lookin good. He was hot. He knew it, too. Or, rather, was beginning to know it. He found his old sweats, thoughtfully hanging up and waiting for him in a large locker with his name on it, which he assumed was his. He noted that the lockers themselves were almost like storage units, not the shameful, small individual skinny things most gyms had. He looked up, slightly startled. Musclemen Gunst and Obatu were suddenly there at the end of the locker row, waiting for them. At first he barely noticed what they were wearing. But then he saw. “What the fuck?” “You ready?” “Uh. Yeah.” “Let’s go, then.” He stripped down fast, found his old jock in the locker, and grabbing his huge cock and balls, shoveled his heavy machine into the pouch. As always, it sagged heavily, groaning softly from the weight of his manhood. He glanced down the row. Gunst and Obatu were blankfaced. Casey threw his sweats on. “Now?” “…..yeah.” Casey slammed the door and waddled towards them, throwing a bathsheet towel over his broad shoulders. “Let’s go lift.” Gunst and Obatu brought Casey onto the workout floor. All of the musclemen in the squad were in attendance, naturally wanting to see how much weight the pretty muscle boy Casey could handle. After all, he may be huge, and all realized he was pretty fucking strong in the ring. He could move fast, and his mandatory poses last night were impressive. But could the dude lift? Could he train?? Dr. Irving stood by with the video camera, fussily taking his precise notes. And Zaftig was there, of course, hanging back, saying nothing, just watching, watching. And now, at least, Casey could remember the dude’s name. Dr. Zaftig. After all, this was the dude who was going to make him huge. He nodded shyly to him. “Good afternoon, Dr. Zaftig.” “Good afternoon, Casey. Welcome to Valhalla.” “Thank you…” “Let’s get going, Casey,” said Sergeant Moster. “You’re keeping us waiting. Again.” “I’m sorry,” Casey said. Moster frowned. No signs of reaction to all the White Caps swimming around in his bloodstream. There were, inevitably, more moments of muscle awkwardness to be had first. First off, Casey was entirely unprepared for the men’s workout gear. His usual workout clothes fully covered him, a ripped and worn outfit of dirty, sweaty baggies, a sloppy oversized sweatshirt that seemed to have been made for a man of 600 pounds, and full-length sweatpants, ragged and much the worse for wear. Even in these baggies, his bulge loomed heavily, swaying from side to side as he came onto the floor. Moster had changed into his full-dress spotlessly clean green uniform slacks, boots, and a skin-tight regulation t-shirt. His mammoth black muscles gleamed with ferocious power, and his crisp, clinging t-shirt outlined every peak, valley, cut, bulge, thick vein and crevice of his astonishing physique. Casey tried not to stare at him. He was oddly drawn to this black mountain of muscle. “I wanna be as big as you someday,” he said softly to himself. The squad, on the other hand, he nervously noted, were all dressed in White Cap Night Valhalla regulation gym gear: ripped, torn and ragged wife-beaters with muscles bulging every which way. Dripping sweat, muscles red and inflamed, their workouts over. No shorts, Army boots, heavy cable socks, and sweaty, swollen, looming Army-green mesh jocks. Bulging packages protruded, looming cocks, also swaying heavily with each muscleman movement, all around the gym floor. “This is how you guys dress to work out?” asked Casey timidly. Okay, so it was still weird. His question was ignored. There was a lot of barely sheathed bulging heavy duty muscleman dick on this gym floor. His own was more modestly covered. If just as bulging. And just as evident. And no one’s on the floor appeared to be as big as Moster’s. Once again he stared for a moment at the man’s obviously huge, looming penis, outlined clearly in his green trousers. He could see the penis corona, even the deep piss slit through the thick dark khaki fabric. Moster sure wasn’t ashamed of his cock. So maybe Casey shouldn’t be ashamed, either. And what Casey couldn’t know is that the men, just having finished their workouts, were delaying their shower sports. White Caps racing in their bloodstreams. And holding back. Not 10 minutes before Moster had sternly separated Blankenship and Lang from some foreplay, giving each man a quick spanking on their bare bottoms before all the other men. Afterward Alvarez pulled Lang back and eyed him dangerously. There would be words between them tonight. Lang was staring at the floor. Blankenship, of course, was grinning. Toothlessly. “How about starting off with some incline flyes?” said Moster. “You need a warm-up set?” “I wanna stretch first,” said Casey. Miles had always taught him the necessity of proper technique. Light warm-ups were part of that, though once he actually started lifting, what constituted a warm-up for Casey might be a final blasted set for another man. “Always smart.” The men stood watching Casey intently. “Don’t you guys wanna go workout somewhere?” he blurted out. “We’re done,” said Alvarez. “We’re waiting for you.” Abdul was staring at him with undisguised hatred. Tiffany was smiling sweetly, butter not melting in his mouth. Schumacher was blank-faced, and all the scarier for it. The others were intent, if blank-faced. Even Hension, whose thoughts were usually betrayed on his handsome face, wasn’t reacting much. He just was staring. They were all staring. Casey shuffled off to a corner of the Marley mat and began his stretch routine, arms swinging, legs kicking, gentle but firm. The men watched him. “He’s bow-legged!” whispered Hension. Loudly. “Yes, we see that,” said Alvarez, mocking the whisper. “I think that’s so hot….!” Casey heard a resounding smack! echoing through the room. “Ow!” Someone had hit Hension again. Casey, his face turned away, had to smile. Apparently the pretty boy got hit a lot. “Um. This takes 20 minutes,” Casey said. Suddenly he didn’t care what they thought. He was going to stretch. He started torso turns, his hands behind his head. Moster spoke. “Casey, we don’t have all day.” Casey turned back to him and repeated himself firmly. “This takes 20 minutes. I stretch for 20 minutes. If you don’t want to watch, don’t.” And he turned back, cupping his big hands together, continuing his torso turns. Moster smiled slightly. Good. The White Caps had obviously kicked in after all. It seems Casey required more White Caps for an effect, and the societal restrictions weren’t so easily abandoned. But the boy was asserting himself, and quite naturally. Zaftig was suddenly next to Moster. “He’s not so easily bullied,” he whispered. “Not like your other men. You won’t have your way with him so easily.” “You don’t think so?” “No, I don’t.” “Well, we’ll see, then, won’t we?” Zaftig frowned. Clearly, Moster wasn’t concerned about Casey digging in his heels at his first workout, doing it his way, defying the Sergeant. “What do you know?” Zaftig hissed at Moster. Moster, never taking his eyes off the teen muscle giant now doing rapid pushups, turned to Zaftig, laid his cards on the table. “The kid has never been worshipped before. He wants it, he needs it. He needs someone to tell him how amazing he is. And he needs musclesex. Badly. He doesn’t know how much.” “I see. It’s your musclesex thing again. Goddammit, Sergeant. This project is about youth and strength and creating the most fearsome army the planet has ever seen. It’s not about sex. It never was. It was about creating the perfect physical specimen. The most extraordinary physiques the world has ever known.” Moster smiled sardonically. “You’ve forgotten, Dr. Zaftig, or perhaps you never knew. Even when you were a young man. Were you ever young?” Zaftig smiled. “Amazing to consider, isn’t it?” Moster continued. “Everything for men is about sex. And bodybuilders? Even more so. And for these bodybuilders? All that times about 200. 500. All these guys want is to be admired. Worshipped. Sucked off. Felt up. Fuck. And, I might add, get fucked. Train, lift, eat, sleep, shit, fight, suck, get sucked, fuck, train some more, fight some more, fuck some more, suck some more, eat, shit, sleep. And,” he added sweetly, “…that’s about it.” “Fuck you, Sergeant.” But now Zaftig was smiling. He knew there was more to it. Wasn’t there? Moster sighed. “I’m sorry, Dr. Zaftig. But that’s what you’ve created here. Millions of dollars poured into fucking machines. But look at the bright side.” He leaned in. “It’s going to make you millions, as well. All of us.” “I already have millions. I don’t care.” “Well, I don’t, and I do.” “By the way, how did the boy get that black eye?” “Looks pretty hot, don’t it?” “Less than 24 hours in the compound and already someone’s slugged him.” “Don’t look too closely at Abdul or Blankenship.” Zaftig glanced over at Abdul, sporting a shiner of his own, and noted the missing teeth of the blond bomber beauty Blankenship. Zaftig groaned inwardly. Another trip to the dentist. He hated having to take the men off the mountain. But there was a dentist in San Jose who fixed up the men regularly, regular hygiene, capping, replaced teeth, crowns, implants, the works, and charged nothing, content merely with big biceps flexed in his face while he sat in the chair playing with his tiny dentist dick. Then, Moster to Casey, “You about done there, boy?” “No, sir.” “All right, then.” The men were getting restless, shifting from foot to foot, now staring at Zaftig and the ever-cool Moster. Alvarez was the only man on the squad who seemed calm and in control of himself. A fact not unnoticed by Moster. Or Casey, for that matter, now secretly watching all this play out for himself. He was beginning to catch on that there was even more to these big dudes than just training, taking this crazy drug, and spanking their monkeys. “Men, time for some biceps curls,” Moster announced. “All of you go do 15 sets of light reps. 25 reps per set per arm. No ball busting, now. Get to it. No more than 25 pounds. I mean it.” He turned back and smiled at Casey. “We’ll wait until The Boy is ready.” Okay, so he was The Boy again. Zaftig wasn’t done. “In a few months the Joint Chiefs will be here for review. I want Casey ready and I want the men at their sharpest, and no funny business. Intensify their training.” He turned away. “You leaving?” Zaftig turned back. “Hell, no” he smiled. “I want to see my latest boy wipe your men all over the floor. Maybe you’ll listen to me then.” Moster nodded. Inwardly he had to admit he respected Zaftig deeply. The man may have been a puny genius with no body, but he wasn’t dishonest, and he was clearly unafraid of Moster. He had no personal need for muscle worship, and never bothered the men. He was, at the end of the day, a partner Moster could trust, if never take advantage of. He admired that. Moreover, Zaftig had never indicated another other than scientific curiosity about Moster’s treetrunk tool. That was a plus on his side, too. Moster turned to Casey and called out. “Okay, you’re done,” he said, brooking no denial. “What’s your starting weight for inclines?” “Um…..180?” Hension, 20 feet away and now doing the ordered biceps curls, stared at Casey. “Damn!” he squeaked. He put the dumbbell down and scratched his barely covered balls. “180?? To start?” Casey looked away, trying not to notice. That boy certainly was pretty. A perfect face. Without realizing it, Casey licked his lips, staring a little at Hension, who, gawking at the muscle monster, inadvertently smiled back, absently scratching his balls. The exchange did not go unnoticed. Lang nudged Alvarez, who nodded sagely. “180 it is. Let’s see what you got.” Moster strode to the bench, grabbed two 180-pound dumbbells as if they were sacks of feathers, and handed them to Casey. Casey took them without a blink, two sacks of feathers. And so the workout began. One by one, the men re-racked their light weights, approached the bench where the giant Casey lay, ready to lift. Casey’s perfect technique was evident from the start. He smoothly lowered his huge bulk onto an incline bench. He raised his arms into position, the two dumbbells easily held aloft overhead. In no time he reeled off twenty reps of perfectly calibrated incline flyes, then peeling off into overhead presses, gently touching the dumbbells one another, then down to the tips of his big brown nipples, outlined in his oversized sweats. His chest bloomed, rivers of sweaty muscle flowed, the pumped pecs seemed to reach to the ceiling as he pumped. “Pow, pow, pow, pow,” he breathed to himself with each rep. Light stains of pec milk appeared on his sweats. “Wow….” breathed Hension. “Do you see that??” “What’s next?” “Do it again.” “Okay.” He reeled off another set. The men watched him stonily, now all gathered around the bench. More pec milk appeared. “Now?” “Do another.” “Sure.” He did another set. Finishing, he clanged the weights to the floor. “Can I work with something heavy now?” Moster smiled. The White Caps had taken effect. He shot a look over at Zaftig, who merely raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Certainly, boy. Take it to 220.” So he was still Boy. “Anyone have gloves?” “Sure, Case!” Lang reached into his bag and tossed a pair to Casey. Casey smiled a little, hearing Lang call him by the same nickname the cadets down the mountain did. “Thanks.” He caught the gloves and slipped them on. Everyone was watching now. The red light of the video cam continued to blink. Standing next to Lang, Alvarez was blank-faced, but not unapproving. In the corner, Dr. Zaftig now had his head tilted back, musing. This boy will go the limit, he thought. No matter what Moster says about what the men really want. This boy is different. He’s pure muscle, and nothing else. No, that was not right. He was muscle, cock, and butt. This boy would be worth millions. And very, very soon. An uncommon sex machine of the first power. Innocent Casey, unaware of the plans being made around him, rose, took the two 180 pound dumbbells, and re-racked them, two sacks of feathers back to the their featherbed. He strode down the line and grabbed two 220s, returned to the incline, lowered his bulk, and reeled off another set of 20 reps, grunting loudly and blowing out air with each rep. More milk flecks appeared on his shirt. He blew sweat and spit, began to groan mightily. “ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh….” When he was finished he set the dumbbells down gently on the marley floor, and looked up at Moster. Absently he wiped the milk away from his nipples with thumb and forefinger. “Nicely done, boy,” said Moster. He spoke loudly to the group. “Notice that Casey does not drop the weights.” He looked pointedly at Jin, who was famous for throwing the weights to the floor after the punishing final set of any lift he did, excepting squats – where he re-racked as noisily as possible, all while screaming. Jin looked back, defiant. “Why do you do it that way, boy?” Casey shrugged. “Way that Miles taught me, I guess. It’s harder.” “Miles?” “Miles Donovan, Raw Weight Gym.” So that was it, thought Gunst. Miles Donovan. He should have known. Donovan was a biceps freak, and hosted many others in his gym, taking their pay-offs for private posing from men who liked to blast big guns in the faces of the hapless, endlessly paying schmoes. No doubt Casey had been a major revenue stream for the notorious Donovan gym, he reasoned to himself. Of course he had to have huge guns. Miles would have seen to it. Blankenship grinned, a front tooth missing and looking all the hotter for it. “Yeah, makes sense, he came from that old horn dog Donovan’s gym. You worked out on the 3rd floor yet?” Casey looked at Blankenship a little blankly. “Um. No.” Obatu spoke up. “Casey is still too young and green for the 3rd floor. Besides, he has been training at the cadet gym down the mountain for the last several months. Haven’t you, Casey?” “Yeah, I guess. What’s next?” “You flat bench?” “Sure. How much weight?” “Let’s see what you can do.” The squad backed away a little as Casey, gripping each elbow and stretching his arms over his head, walked towards a row of flat benches. Gunst despaired a little. He was wrong. Casey wasn’t posing and being paid for it at Donovan’s. Which meant he’d built those mountainous biceps on his own. “Lose the shirt!” squawked Hension. “I want to see your nips milk!” “’Kay,” said Casey. He stopped, slipping out of his sweatshirt, folding it up carefully. Underneath he wore a baggy green t-shirt, which may probably have been at one time a pup tent. “My nipples always make a little milk when I train,” he explained. “See?” He reached under his soaked t-shirt to a nipple, gathered some white liquid, held out a finger dripping with milk droplets. “But it looks like I’m making a little more today.” In spite of himself, Moster was touched by Casey’s innocent neatness with his sweatshirt. And his explanation. “T-shirt too,” said Waring. “Not yet,” said Casey. Moster’s eyebrow raised a little. He glanced over at Zaftig, who nodded. Good. Good. It was all good. The White Caps were claiming his ego. Casey was showing signs he could stand up on his own. “Load up a starting weight of 360 pounds,” directed Moster. “You can handle 300, can’t you, Casey?” “Sure, easy.” Casey laid his bulk down on the flat bench while Waring and Lang placed eight 45-pound plates on either end of the bar. He began to suck in air in preparation. “Hey, can someone wrap my elbows?” he suddenly asked. “Sure. Washington, grab some heavy wraps for Cadet Rockland. Get to it. The man has to lift.” He lifted the bar off the bench and began to bench, pumping his enormous pecs. Now he was working his hardest. He was now more determined than ever to fit in with these huge men. He was going to show them now. The workout continued. Flat bench, declines, more flyes. All pecs stuff. More milk. Throughout the workout Hension, Lang, Jin, Bogarde, Washington, Meyer, Waring, Duncan, Chad, and Corporal Blankenship were cheerful and approving. They howled their encouragement and counted the reps. “10! 11! 12! 13! 14! 15!" Throw the weights, Casey!” "Okay to throw them?" Casey asked Moster, holding 600 pounds aloft, just about to bring it down to his milky nipples. He was calm. "If the men want. This time. Throw it when you're done." "Okay." He finished pumping, and instead of reracking... Clang! Casey threw the weight on the floor, sat up, grabbed the plastic bottle and chugged a half-gallon of water. Water poured from the side of his mouth onto his shirt. The men whooped and hollered. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and strode forcefully to the next weight. Immediately the men were counting again. “10! 11! 12! 13! 14! 15!” Clang! Wipe. “YEAHHHH….!” And on it went for 45 minutes of grueling, punishing lifting. Corporals Schumacher, Obatu, LeFevre, and Alvarez and Private McIntyre seemed more reserved. Corporal Abdul just grunted. But he was impressed, in spite of himself. The boy was training harder than he had ever seen. His muscles were blooming, seeming to grow as he watched. Gunst was quiet and watchful. Zaftig was beaming with professional pride. Moster remained aloof and keenly observant. And all the while, Dr. Irving followed every move with the video cam. The cocksure little Private Joe Tiffany cheered him on just as loudly. Casey pretended not to see the evil glint in the muscleboy’s eyes, but he couldn’t help it. He’d learned at the Home how to read signals. The Home…..hmmm. A memory appeared dimly, and, just as quickly, was gone. While resting between two punishing sets, Casey was still silently agog at the size of Moster’s muscles. Occasionally he found himself staring at the improbably large mound resting atop his CO’s left quad. The tip of the mound reached to just above the giant’s knee. He noted the other men seemed to be avoiding looking directly at Moster’s leg. Even though they all seemed to be sporting packages of similar size. Damn, their dicks are big, Casey thought. Are they real? And deep inside Casey, a little voice proudly squeaked…..”Wait until they see MINE…” Then he remembered – …..oh yeah.... They’d already seen it. And he had seen theirs, too. Sorta. Between his half-closed black eye. His hand went up, and he rubbed the black eye. Looked at Abdul, and his black eye. Adbul was smiling a little now. Not friendly, but hard - but still, a smile. Casey grinned wearily as he finally finished up with the last set of triceps pulldowns. Private Meyer, a big toothy grinning lighting up his handsome, beaming face, burst forward from the group, and pumped the newcomer’s hand. “Thanks,” said Casey. Meyer nodded enthusiastically. “He can’t hear you,” said Private Waring. Casey looked at Meyer, stricken for having forgotten that Meyer was a deaf mute. “It’s okay, he doesn’t mind.” Casey, touched, shook Meyer’s hand vigorously. Meyer shook his head cheerfully, touching his lips, and shrugged his shoulders to show that indeed he didn’t care that he couldn’t speak. Then he stepped back and proudly flexed his own powerful, round right biceps, smacking them with his left hand, and reached down to grab Casey’s wrists. He pulled his arms up encouragingly and Casey, getting the message, proudly brought his huge guns up and flexed mightily. “Mother fucker!” yelled Lang and Hension simultaneously. The men roared with laughter, and Casey colored a deep red, smiling sheepishly. Alvarez clamped that affectionate paw of his around Lang’s shoulders and hugged him close. But he looked worried. Something was on his mind. Behind them Hension eyed them both steadily, with longing. Meyer kept his hands on Casey’s obliques as if he was rotating his upper body for all to see. “It’s okay, plebe,” said Jin, laughing. “You’ll get to know us all.” While all through the devastating workout he had been stronger than he could ever remember, now he felt – well, almost frail – as if something, suddenly, was missing. “All right, men,” said Moster calmly. “Rec room in 15 minutes. Casey, shower up.” “Yes, sir.” “Men, file out. Casey, come here a moment first.” He glanced at the men, who leaned in, curious as to what Moster might be saying. “Well, Cadet Casey, it looks as if you’ve made it.” Moster spoke quietly. Casey looked up at him, and grinned wearily. “Thanks, Sergeant Moster.” The men gave him a round of applause, Casey noted that even Corporal Schumacher seemed to approve. He lowered his head, modestly grateful. Then Moster turned back to the group. They were still applauding. Casey was embarrassed, turning to go. He didn’t see Moster’s stone face shift into a slight smile. “Men, get dressed. Shower up. No play time. Get to it. I expect you all in uniform, neat and clean, in the rec room, in 10 minutes. Hop to it. Get a move on.” Then, to Casey, “Casey, use my private locker room to shower.” He pointed to a door across the floor. “You’ll find clean sweats in there. They’ll fit. Grab them after you shower. And no jerking off, boy.” Casey, embarrassed that Moster seemed to be reading his mind, nodded dumbly and headed to the door. He was worried again. He had only masturbated once today so far, and on a day like today, he needed a lot more….especially after that worship session with the cadets this morning. He was discovering….something….and his huge cock wanted to know more. But he went, dutifully, into the private locker room, showered, and changed into the clean sweats he found there. Before he left, he checked his guns and his pecs in the full length mirror. Flexing, he breathed to himself. “Damn. I’m fucking awesome.” And with the capsules still not in apparent full-force effect, dressed in baggy trunks and a clean, white light tee, he stumbled his way to the rec room. For what, he couldn’t tell. Probably more weirdness. But now, he was ready. Dr. Irving was there ahead of them all. He had set up chairs for all the bodybuilders in a semi-circle, with the inevitable video cam set up. There was a chair in the center, obviously meant for him. He glanced over at Moster, who nodded and gestured towards the chair. Casey waddled with his bodybuilder’s walk towards it slowly and sat. He looked around with anticipation. “So now what?” he asked. Zaftig took Moster aside. “This boy is gentle. We don’t want to break his spirit. He’s had a tough time and he just wants to make friends. Go easy on him.” Moster’s shoulders stiffened. The veins in his neck popped a little. He looked Zaftig dead in the eye, and said, “Being sweet to him now will kill him later. Is that what you want?” “No.” “Then let me handle it. I know what is best.” “Did you at least give him a capsule?” “Sure,” answered Moster. “He’ll be just fine.” “Doesn’t seem to have taken effect yet.” “He’s a big boy. Blood volume and all. It takes time.” “Fuck you, Moster.” Moster’s eyebrows raised slightly, but he knew not to protest. Zaftig was properly proud of his discovery. “You know fucking well that White Caps P-21 take effect immediately regardless of ‘blood volume’, if you want to put it that way.” “Dr. Zaftig, it’s my turn now.” “It’s always your turn.” Zaftig turned on his heel and left the rec room without further comment. Moster watched him go. The men were sitting impatiently. “All right, men. Let’s get to it.” He turned to Casey. “All right, Casey. Welcome. You’re one of the group now. We’re now….The Twenty.” “Yeah, baby!” “Bout fucking time.” “Tell him what that really means….” said Alvarez. “Spank him!” yelled Hension, and then, before Chad, sitting next to him, could swat him, he said, “Don’t you fucking hit me!” Chad did anyway. “Ow!” yelled Hension. Casey chuckled. “That’s gotta hurt. These dudes seem to hit you a lot.” “You will too, in time,” said Waring. “What did …he….”….um…” “Alvarez,” said Alvarez. “What did Alvarez – sorry – mean – when he said “tell him what that really means?” Silence. Casey continued. “I mean, what does it mean to be one of The Twenty?” Moster smiled. “Yes, let’s talk about that, Casey. Men, why don’t we show Casey what it’s all about?” Then he paused a moment. Casey wasn't reacting. He was just sitting quietly, albeit with great body tension. His muscles were hugely pumped, and Moster could see the fabric shifting as Casey's enormous cock began to uncoil in his sweats. Soon he would be hard. But the boy wasn't moving. Odd. Quietly, he asked, leaning in, “Casey, level with me.” He looked the teen in the eye. Casey couldn’t look away. Inwardly he was stammering. He was looking at Moster's crotch. “No, look me in the eye. Look up. Not down there. Up. How many White Caps have you taken?” “White Caps?” “The capsules. The pills. How many?” He gazed at him levelly. A pause. “Four, I think. Five?” He shrugged, weakly. "i don't remember." "Where did you get them? I gave you one...." "Uh..." Casey didn't want to indict the men on his first day. Weirdness notwithstanding. “Never mind. I can guess." Moster looked back at the group, all standing still, attentive, neatly dressed in their uniforms. And every cock seeming at attention, poling out hugely in their khakis. The men were ready to play. Past ready. Mmmmm. Not much effect on Casey, though, for 5 White Caps. A few moments of assertiveness and a powerful workout, but…..not much. "Are you feeling anything…unusual?” “Well….” Casey paused and looked away. He found himself staring at the men and their looming erections. Jesus. Here it came. Strong societal blockers, Moster thought. "Do you want to have sex? Like now?" No answer. Casey just stared at the cocks in the room. The men were deadly quiet. Then it hit Moster. Of course. “Casey, are you hypoglycemic?” Not so much to his surprise, even the dimwitted Casey knew exactly what that meant. Still staring the the men's rocket crotches, he spoke softly. “......I need oranges or candy bars sometimes.....” “They told you this when you were growing up?” “They told me in the Boys Home. My blood sugar. I have problems.” Of course. That was it. It happened sometimes. He reminded himself he had to mention it to Zaftig. It was the same for Obatu when he first checked in, and then, years later, for Eli Meyer. Since Meyer could neither speak nor hear and his sign language didn't encompass the subject of hypoglycemia, it took them a few days to realize that a cup of chocolate milk worked wonders on the tight glutes of the hot little muscle fuckee Meyer. Give the boy some cocoa and he'd take massive tool after tool up his butt for hours. He called over his shoulder. “Dr. Irving, please step into my office and get an orange. You’ll find a bowl of fruit on my conference table.” He turned back to Casey and smiled a little. “It’ll be just a moment. Then we’ll tell you what The Twenty is all about.” Irving left the room, used to being invisible except when ordered about. Moster stood up, in front of Casey. "It will only be a minute now." The men, behind him, were now pawing the floor like racehorses, ready to rock and roll. Casey, sitting, was now eye-to-crotch to Moster, in front of him. He stared openly at Moster’s enormous bulge in the fly of his uniform khakis, a thick pylon of sheathed cock snaking heavily along the edge of huge quad muscle, and gulped, looking up. Though Moster was the only man in the room without an erection, his penis yet appeared to be the biggest. “Yes, sir,” he stammered. And stared again. His heart was pounding. Moster put a hand on Casey’s beefy shoulder, kneading his fingers slightly into the thick muscle. “Hang on. It won’t be long now.” He turned to the men behind him. “Men? Drop trou.” Zippers unzipped, belts slipped out of belt loops and went to the floor, as the 18 bodybuilders – even Abdul – dropped their uniform slacks to their ankles. Pants down. Around the room. Now all the men were in micro posers. Those massive bulges were unleashed. Looming, heavy, hard, all already pointing straight out. Their cocks almost fully exposed except for the bulging, straining fabric barely covering cockheads. Some of the posers were ready to snap. Casey stared at them all. "Wow...." he breathed. "Men why don't you do some posing for Casey? You've seen his muscles. I don't think he's had the opportunity to see yours." "You, too, Sergeant," said Abdul. Moster looked at him. He paused. "All right, then." He unbuttoned his bulging dress shirt and slipped it off. Casey could almost imagine he could hear the groan of relief of the fabric, suddenly relieved of the need to stretch over the man's massive muscles. But he wasn't prepared for the massive musculature of Moster. Cocks and balls bulged forth, each man spilling half a foot of visible cock into barely sheathed pouches. Casey felt a dribble of precum shooting in his posers. “Arms behind backs!” barked Moster, clearly now the leader of the group. He turned to Casey and became one with his men. The Nineteen placed their hands behind their lower backs. “Spread legs!” All spread their legs wide, shooting their right legs out in choreographed unison. “Prepare!” Fists clenched, crammed in solid obliques. “Front double biceps!” All arms slowly rose. And 40 cannonballs of enormous power ball biceps snapped into ungodly peaks. The men faced straight ahead, all eyes high and level, as if gazing into infinity. “Jesus,” breathed Casey. He fumbled with his crotch a moment. His head was spinning. The lineup of 19 men stood before him, all flexing with massive front double biceps power. The black muscle god brought his arms down strode slowly across the room back to Casey. As he moved, his half-covered organ swayed heavily from side to side in his posing pouch. Behind him, the lineup of men continued to flex without wavering. He stood next to Casey, and impossibly, appeared to tower over even him. Dr. Irving returned with the orange. “Chow down on this, Casey,” said Moster as Irving handed it to him wordlessly. "Men, drop the biceps pose." The men relaxed. Hension snickered. "Yeah, chow down, Casey." Then, warning Chad...."Don't you hit me...." “Dr. Irving, would you get back to your camera, please?” Dr. Irving went back to the video cam, checking his clipboard, and began to tape. The men circled around Casey as he took a big bite out of the orange, and then another, and then another. A moment passed. Casey began to flush, a deep crimson red – and then, just as quickly – the flush faded. He looked up at Moster, and smiled. Broadly. “I’m fine now,” he said. “Casey,” asked Moster evenly, “have you ever sucked cock before?” “No, sir.” “Would you like to?” “Yes, sir. I think I would.” Snap! Snap! Gunst's and Blankenship's posers snapped. Their cocks bloomed free, swaying heavily, ready for service. Gunst stepped forward, but Blankenship elbowed him heavily out of the way. Gunst looked at him threateningly, raised his fist, ready to punch face. Moster stood back. "Easy, men. There's time for everyone. Who should he start with?” he asked the group. “I think he starts with ME,” said Abdul, striding forward, his hands on the straps of his bulging posers. The 14 inch shaft was fully exposed, the tendrils of Abdul's thick pubic hair shining in the rec room light. “Fine with me,” Casey said, still smiling. “How do I do this?” “Don’t worry. It’ll come naturally. Just let it happen.” Abdul took his position in front of Casey and pushed out his powerful hips. As Casey leaned in, Abdul roughly cupped the back of the teen’s head, and pulled him in close. "Get to work, boy..." Casey open his mouth. Wide. "Sorry about last night, " he said up to Abdul, who loomed over him, taking his mammoth cock out of his posers and aiming it. "Wider," said Abdul. "Can I pose for you guys later?" Casey asked. "Sure thing!" squeaked Hension. Smack!! "Ow! What did I say??" "I said OPEN WIDER," commanded Abdul. "Sure thing," said Casey. He opened his mouth wider. "Let's go." And so.... it began. **** Want to read "The Twenty" from the start? Click HERE for Chapter One! Links to other chapters... "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster
  25. Links to other chapters: Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 Chapter 21: Sam and Casey February 10th, 2022 2035 Hours Right after the presentation, Moster briefly convened the men in the corridor around the corner from the lab. “Okay, what just happened?” asked Alvarez. “Didn’t you see? The Army creamed in their pants at the sight of us,” answered Chad. Hension, as always, stood by, pensively flexing his muscles and dreaming. Chad clapped him on the back of the head. “Ow! What’d I do?” “Pay attention.” “Head back to your quarters, men. Await further instruction. Visitation tonight strictly prohibited.” Moster was specific. He’d turned his broad back and strode away, but all saw as he turned he was grinning. “Strictly prohibited?” asked Alvarez. Moster glanced back at them briefly. “Just keep the volume down.” And he was gone down the corridor towards his suite. “My room, 10 minutes,” Alvarez said to Lang. “Yeah, baby!” They were gone. Hension looked after them, and followed a moment later. Casey was thinking of Sam. He could think of nothing else – the way the handsome young ensign had stared at him. He’d caught his name on the way out. Sam. Sam Victor. Schumacher glanced briefly at Tiffany, who was, as usual, smiling and opaque. “I’m gonna go train,” grumbled Washington. “Me, too,” said LeFevre. Tiffany walked away without a word. Schumacher watched his butt as he went, and turned and walked back to his room, seething as usual. “I’ll join you,” said Waring, looking after Schumacher. “Me, too,” said Jin. “Wait for us,” said Reed. “You in?” he asked Blankenship. “Sure.” He clamped his hand around the back of Eli Meyer’s head and gestured, train? Eli shook his head no, mimed he was going to go to bed and jerk off. Blankenship laughed. “Maybe I’ll join you instead.” Meyer nodded and off they went together, Reed following. “Not gonna train?” Washington called after him. “Changed my mind.” He threw his arms around Meyer and Reed and walked away with them. “Showers after?” asked Obatu. “Whaddya you think?” asked Blankenship. “Wait for me,” said Chad. He turned to Bogarde, who was headed to his room. “Not you?” “Yeah, I’m coming. Wanna get my nipple clamps first.” “Gonna work pecs?” “Yeah.” “I’ll bind your tit clamps if you spot my curls,” said Gunst. “Tonight I’m gonna blast these big guns to the limit.” Abdul said nothing. He went on his way alone, looking for Pedro. His dick was twitching. Casey ran back to his room and quickly brushed his teeth and combed his hair. He reeled off 300 pushups, which took him less than 3 minutes. Then he ran out the door in search of Sam. After a moment he came back, climbed up on a steel chair he kept in the corner, reached high, and carefully adjusted one of the lights on his posing dais. Nice and easy. "That's better," he said to himself. Then he went out again, in search of Sam. October 21st, 2021 1843 Hours The men gathered around Casey, now kneeling on the hard concrete floor before Abdul, who stood before him, cock out, ready to plunge in. Unexpectedly, before he started, Casey spoke. “Tell them to pull up their pants. I want to see their dick outlines in their pants.” A pause. “Pull ‘em up, gentlemen,” commanded Moster. “And when I say so – and not before – they can pull them down again. At my command. Or I stop this.” The White Caps seemed to be working. Moster suppressed a smile as the men in line looked at one another, bent, pulled up their jeans, and fastened them – with some difficulty, as each man was now sporting 10 – 15 inches of wood. The bulges were….dizzying. Casey leaned in closer to Abdul, the Arab’s 15 inch cock now bobbing two inches from his face. “Yeah,” he said. “I like that. I like the view. They can flex, too. Tell them to flex.” “Gentlemen, front double biceps, please.” “Yours too, Sergeant Moster.” Moster raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest. Biceps slowly rose, like the rising of 36 suns over distant mountains, hitting the ceiling, filling the room with flexed muscle. “Dr. Lang?” The video cam whirred to life. “Okay. Here goes.” And Casey opened his mouth, and for the first time in his life, took a male organ inside. Abdul, above him, spread his legs wide, and began slowly pumping his hips into Casey’s face. February 10th, 2022 2050 Hours At the same time that Alvarez and Lang were just getting under way with Pose and Approve, Casey was standing in front of Sam in the corridor outside the men’s room. Even now, months after he first arrived in the main building, Casey had gotten lost four times. He worried that Sam may have left the building. And that he’d lost his opportunity. But no, for there he suddenly was 40 feet down the main corridor, coming out of the men’s room. His heart filled with joy as he ran up to him. Sam stopped short, surprised. The 6’-7”, 330 pound bodybuilder muscle giant Casey Rockland was suddenly just there, standing shyly before him, legs spread awkwardly wide, his hands held meekly at his side. He was breathing deeply as if he had just been running. “Hi!” he said, a little desperate sounding. “Well, hello,” answered Sam. Casey was still wearing the white VALHALLA LABS t-shirt he’d worn before he stripped down for the presentation to the brass, bulging with barely sheathed muscle, the gigantic arms pouring out of straining sleeves, the tight white jeans, bursting at the quads and calves, and the black army boots. A light coat of sweat gleamed in the corridor light. Sam tried to meet his eyes at first, but in spite of all his control his vision wandered as he began to take in the staggering proportions of the handsome young behemoth standing before him. The dude was perfect. Fucking perfect. Casey radiated golden-tanned muscle, his taut skin gleaming a natural sheen of rich, deep brown-gold. The sleeves of his t-shirt strained to half-cover the bulging, hard, veiny, cannonball masses of his unreal, sick biceps. His firm round pecs were held hugely high, and Sam could easily make out the shape and slight coloring of the man’s large red-brown nipples. His square jaw was alluring, with a movie star’s cleft chin and a day-old scruff. His eyes shone a deep violet blue. The crew cut was of thick burnished gold. The hands? Each the size of both of his, held together. Below, the outline of an 8-pack of deep, firmly ridged abs pounded through the t-shirt, hillocks of muscle deeply sloping to ridges of darkest ab lines, all tapering to an improbable – no, unbelievable – 30 inch waistline. The boy’s broad lats spread horizontally behind, like eagle wings, the traps above the pecs boulders of pure power, his deltoids powerful triple-headed mountains of strength. And then Sam’s gaze went a little lower – and held there. O My God. There it was again. And now only five feet away. “I was afraid you’d left.” “No, I’m still here.” “Yeah! Um. I see….good!” The fly of Casey’s white jeans wasn’t merely bulging. It loomed with the weight of the heavy member firmly curled, tucked away and packed inside. It was if he was carrying a long, thick, heavy snake in his pants. A boa constrictor. No less than that. Clearly, the boa was currently at rest. The barely-restraining fly was fully revealed by the fly flaps, forced back by the tautness of the fabric. The zipper appeared to be industrial grade. No doubt made of some sort of reinforced steel. Sam stared openly at the ungodly bulge. Then he heard a voice, and he shifted his eyes back up. “So…you’re…you’re Ensign Victor. Is that your name? And, um, your rank?” Casey was fumbling to think of something, anything to say. He stumbled forward, hand extended to shake. “Does that mean you’re in the Navy?” So Casey wasn’t the brightest bulb in the billboard, was he? All the better. “Call me Sam.” He smiled, offering his hand and Casey shook it with firm eagerness. He nearly crushed Sam’s fingers in his vice-like grip, but Sam never blinked. He smiled sweetly. “Nice to meet you,” Sam said. Casey glowed. Sam turned slowly, smiling, and resumed his walk toward the main hall. Casey trotted up alongside. “Where you going?” “I’m under orders to find about more about you men.” “I can tell you more!” “All right, then. Shall we talk? Before I meet with the others?” “Yeah! I mean, you don’t have to talk to them. I’ll tell you everything you wanna know!” “Everything…?” “Welll…..” Casey looked around. “Enough.” “Fine, then. Where shall we go?” “My quarters! How about my…quarters…? Okay?....” “Lead the way.” October 21st, 2021 1845 Hours In the first moments, Casey didn’t think he’d much like sucking Abdul’s cock. The huge Moroccan pushed his hard cock into his mouth without any ceremony. As new to this as Casey was, shouldn’t there be something like…he didn’t know, maybe some foreplay? He knew Abdul was not about to kiss him or anything – geez – but still, as his enormous penis came, hard as iron, enshrouded with thick veins, like a freight train, slow and big and hard and powerful and unyielding, the corona and the shaft pushing resolutely past his lips and teeth and deeply into his mouth and down his throat, Casey wondered, just a nanosecond, ‘Shouldn’t there be a little – something more?’ But, no. Guess not. For there it was, huge and throbbing and hot, crammed down his throat, deep and firm, in one thrust. And no nothing else. Just cock. Not even any flexing. No challenge, no demand to feel his muscles. It was just cock. Big and hard and throbbing and hot and unyielding. At first, Casey was stunned. His eyes went wide and he looked up, his mouth full of cock, even fuller than he’d ever imagined, his lips enveloping the thick shaft of a man’s penis for the first time in his life. Okay, so he had to get used to this. He was beginning to realize they did a lot of this here at the top of the mountain. And he did want bigger muscles, so….. So. It didn’t take him long. February 10th, 2022 2055 Hours Casey practically skipped ahead down the corridor, talking excitedly to San over his shoulder as he went. “I heard about you. The men…the other guys…..you know, in the lab…. They said you were coming tonight. I wanted to meet you before they did.” “Who said I was coming? Who knows me here?” Sam asked calmly. “Oh. Oh, they all do. All of them. They’ve talked about you. Um.” He stepped ahead of Sam and gestured hopefully down the corridor. “I was hoping to …. um….talk to you first. So you want to know more about us?” Sam stopped, turned, and smiled serenely with plain honesty. So the others talked about him. How did they know him? Still, the thought pleased him. “Yes. But principally, I want to know more about you. Personally. And we’d all want to hear more about the project. We’d like to learn more about all of you. Who you all are, where you’re all from.” Sam paused. “But I’d like to hear a little more about you in particular.” Casey’s eyes grew wide with joy. “I’d like to ask you a few questions,” Sam continued breezily, “if I might. You sure you have the time for me?” “YEAH!” Casey said, almost shouting, and then glanced around in quick alert spasms to ensure no one had heard him. Tiffany could appear at any point and stop the fun. Of late, Tiffany had been stalking him….and Casey didn’t like it. Not to play, but to keep Casey under personal wraps. “I mean, yes, sure, I have time,” Casey said again, more quietly. “Let’s go.” “It’s late. Sure you don’t mind?” “Naw. Tomorrow’s a rest day anyway. We trained hard tonight. Got all pumped up for you guys.” He paused, and then added. “I’m really pumped up.” “Are you?” “Yeah! REALLY pumped. Very big. Um…” He was getting ahead of himself. He stopped, shyly, confused, and then continued. “Down here. I think. Yeah, I’m right. I get lost sometimes. This way.” He walked ahead fast, heading down the corridor, looking either way, watching for spies. “Down here.” Sam picked it up and hustled a little behind. He was in complete control of himself. His eyes were half-lidded and studiedly casual. He watched the muscleboy’s dancing butt as he ran ahead of him down the corridor. He sure is happy about something, Sam thought. I'm gonna pose for this dude for hours," Casey was thinking happily. October 21st, 2021 1846 Hours Casey closed his mouth around the hugeness of Abdul’s cock with an eagerness that surprised him. His lips held firm. Hey, it wasn’t so bad. In fact, it felt right. In fact, it felt great. He glanced up, and then bent his head down and went to work. He started to suck. Lotta veins here. Nice. He pulled back, managed to get his tongue out to wet his lips. In a moment his mouth was wet and milky with thick gobs of spit. He leaned in an resumed. Wow, this was cocksucking? He really liked it. Abdul began to pump his face, first slowly, then fiercely. His big penis started to glide powerfully, in and out of Casey’s mouth. “Mmmmm,” Casey moaned. “Uh hunh,” Abdul moaned. “Fucking your mouth, boy.” The men stepped closer. “Wow,” breathed Hension, and this time, no one smacked him. So, all in all, and pretty fast, it got fun. February 10th, 2022 2056 Hours Sam could hear some moans and groans drifting from various rooms. “What’s going on?” he asked Casey. “Oh, they’re probably all fucking and sucking dick by now." Casey had stopped in front of a door. "Here’s my room. These are my quarters. You wanna come in?” He unlocked it, opened up and went in. Sam was pleasantly startled. “Yes, of course.” Fucking and sucking dick by now? So much for the claim by Zaftig that the muscle giants didn’t have sex. The truth would seem to be otherwise. He followed the giant in. Casey was waiting on the other side of the door, closing it behind Sam as he entered. “Welcome to my room,” he said. October 21st, 2021 1837 Hours “Breathe through your nose,” instructed Moster. “Yeah, we all have to do it that way or we’d suffocate,” said Lang helpfully. Casey looked up. Abdul nodded. “Do it,” he said gruffly. Casey, on his knees, gazed a little up at Abdul’s black eye. It made him hotter, remembering he was still sporting a nice big shiner himself. “Okay.” He’d never sucked a cock before. But of course his masturbation fantasies had included it since he was 8. His bed sheets at the Home had been stiff and sticky with boy cream produced from midnight fantasies of just such a scene. Him, on his knees, servicing the huge penis of a muscle god. And Abdul’s penis was satisfyingly huge, yes, a full, warm, salty dark log of beef gliding forcefully between Casey’s lips and sluicing powerfully, relentlessly down his throat. It plundered deeper into his larynx than he would have thought possible. Casey would have been startled, if he’d thought of it, at how easily his throat opened up, taking it all, without resistance or gagging, swallowing the hugeness of it. The man’s penis was uncut and slightly cheesy to the taste, and the foreskin proved something interesting to nibble on. It filled his mouth – and Casey had a big mouth – and lay at intervals resting with heavy satisfaction atop his tongue. It grew even larger when inside, too, taking on the warmth and liquid of Casey’s mouth. It expanded and began to throb and play and jump, scraping against his teeth. He couldn’t help but bite, just a little, but Abdul, above him, his eyes closed and his face to the ceiling, didn’t seem to notice, mind, or care. The cockhead should have choked him, or gagged him, or something, but rather immediately, Casey had no problem taking it in, 14 inches of girth capped by a huge mushroom corona. Precum must have been dribbling from the piss slit, because right away Casey could taste cum oozing down his throat, coating his tongue. He knew the taste well. He always ate his own, every time he jerked off, 5 to 6 times a day. Abdul was moaning loudly now and was probably unaware of it. “He any good?” asked Blankenship. “Kid knows how to suck dick,” said Abdul between moans. Casey was licking now, playing with the enormous cockhead with light tongue taps. “Oh, God. This kid is good. Really good. Get ready.” “Look, he don’t even gag,” breathed Lang. The other men nodded sagely. “Pants Stay UP!” Casey suddenly yelled. General groans. All were playing with their tools in their trousers, getting big, hard and ready. Hension was flexing for himself, as usual. Gunst was rubbing his 8 pack, while Jin and Schumacher were unconsciously pawing each other’s packaged schlongs. And Tiffany was there, too. Smiling. Always smiling, his fat big organ poling straight ahead in his pants. Casey guessed he’d have to suck his cock, too, but as beautiful as it was, he wasn’t looking forward to it. He was about 8th down the line. Okay, so that would be later. “No gag reflex on this boy,” said Moster from the back. “That’s a good thing. You can suck cock all night, right, Cadet? And not get tired? And keep breathing? Your jaw hurt?” Casey nodded, then shook his head, confused as how to answer. He pulled back. “I like it, sir” he answered. “My jaw don’t hurt.” “Don’t stop,”said Abdul, his voice now had a note of pleading in it. Wow. Casey smiled. “Okay,” he said, and bent down, his mouth full, going back to the business at hand, his throat crammed, sucking a big cock, as all the bodybuilders in the room watched. The tension in the room added a thick layer of electricity, covering them all. And there in the corner, there was Dr. Irving, as always, shooting video. Casey reached down began to steadily work his own gigantic tool, completely popped out of his baggy sweatpants. “Shit, look at his junk,” muttered Chad. “Big as Moster’s,” said Waring. “Close.” Moster looked up critically. And – he had to admit it. Casey’s cock was indeed close to his own in girth, weight, thickness, and circumference. Hmmmm. February 10th, 2022 2058 Hours Casey’s quarters were an efficiency studio with kitchenette and bathroom. The room was large as befitted a huge muscleboy, but somehow with the lighting and the sofas and the pillows – and the posing dais with all the mirrors, and lighting just so– it was still cozy. It was all concrete, everywhere, true but Casey had tried to enliven it with an LED TV, a computer, some stuffed animals and a few plants. There were dozens of books in a study bookshelf. A small private terrace just beyond double glass sliding doors and dark with night gave a beautiful view of the bright stars above. The terrace walls were high and covered with ivy. No one would be able to see Casey sunbathing naked in the late afternoon sun. Sam could envision him spread out on the extra-durable steel chaise longue, his 12” soft cock languidly lying atop a ripped quad. Sam could see Casey watering his few little plants, desperately trying to keep them alive. A lonely boy’s room. It was sweet and sad. Lonely and alone. No muscleman this beautiful should ever be alone. “Want some coffee? Water? A beer? Juice?” he asked eagerly. Sam wondered if he ever had any visitors at all. Sam nodded. “Sure, that would be great.” Casey headed towards the darkened kitchenette and snapped the light on. Sam’s eyes followed his round, rock-hard tightly jeaned ass swaying as he went with its own inner rhythm. It was like dancing steel. “You have coffee?” Casey nodded, pulled an instant coffee jar from a cabinet, and filled a cup with hot water from the sink. “Yeah. Got it. Milk? Sugar?” “Just black. I see you have beer? I thought caffeine and alcohol were supposed to be bad for you.” “Naw. We can eat and drink anything. It won’t show up.” He stirred the coffee. “Come on in here,” he gestured. “Get it while it’s hot.” It sure as shit is, thought Sam. He came into the kitchenette. “Yeah, we can eat or drink anything. We just train it out. We’re gonna look like this for years. Except maybe we’ll get bigger.” He handed the cup to Sam. “Have a seat,” he offered, and Sam sat down at a small round table in the kitchenette. He looked back at the books in the shelf. “Looks like you work hard.” “I have to. I’m not as smart as the others. I’m pretty dumb, really. I don’t understand half of what’s in them books.” He corrected himself. “Those books. Coffee okay?” Sam sipped, nodded. “Fine.” It tasted terrible. Casey sat down at the little table with Sam. His heavy shoulders and pecs loomed over the table surface. He folded his big hands together and leaned in slightly, shy but – determined – about – what? Sam noticed there were slight tears in the tight sleeves of the t-shirt, still straining to cover the massive biceps. Casey followed Sam’s gaze. “Those guns are pretty impressive,” Sam said. Casey nodded, solemnly, without smiling. “They’re big. Not the biggest in the barracks, but close. They’ve always been big. 26 inches. Moster’s are bigger. Gunst’s too, I think, but I’m getting close to him. I think mine are harder than his, though.” “Impressive.” There was a long pause. “Would it be okay if I flexed for you?” Casey asked shyly. Sam sipped his coffee. “Sure, let’s see what you got.” October 21st, 2021 1843 Hours As he sucked, licked and played with the Arab dick, Casey became intrigued with the latticework of heavy veins that lined Abdul’s lower abs. Hmmm, he thought. Rough. Masculine. Ripped. He thought for a moment of Ramon Ramon, and then Miles Donovan. Maybe he could take a trip back to Raw Weight Gym sometime soon. Suck their dicks, too. In fact, there was also Banks, and Taylor, and the other cadets who wanted to touch and worship him. In fact, there was a whole world of cock waiting for him now. And who was going to say No to a kid as big and muscular and good looking as he was? Casey was, in fact, still discovering his own power. Looking down the line of men waiting, all of them hard and hot, he could see Gunst was next. Looking up, he saw that Abdul was now posing for him, doing a front lat spread, his fists buried in solid obliques. “Yeah, pose for me, big man,” muttered Casey, who continued to suck. “You pose for me, and then I’ll pose for you, and you’ll suck MY dick.” “Fuck you,” said Abdul. “Yeah, and I’ll do that, too,” replied Casey. February 10th, 2022 2058 Hours Casey didn’t need for Sam to prompt him further. He was ready to flex. Joyfully, he stood, towering over Sam. He slowly brought up his right arm, extended it, made a fist, and flexed. “Ka-boom!” he shouted. He flexed it again. “Wham! Bam!” The powerful peaks rose to the ceiling, pumping with sheathed veins. The tear in the shirt sleeve cloth widened a little more, the threads straining to cover the cannonball peak. Then he brought up the left arm, cocked the fist, and flexed it as well. Then he flexed both together, in a massive front double biceps display. “Pow Pow Pow Pow,” he added, whispering now, his gaze never leaving Sam’s face. “Look at my biceps. Check out these huge mother fucking guns.” He was whispering low, his face a foot away from Sam's. Sam gazed. In truth, he had never seen such muscle before. But still he seemed calm. The tendons of Casey’s forearms spasmed as if charged with electricity, and veins seemed to audibly pop as the heads of each biceps peaked. Casey clenched his fists powerfully and grinned, showing teeth. Then he grew shy again. A pause. “What do you think of me?” he asked timidly, still flexing mammoth biceps. “I think you’re fucking unreal.” Casey nodded seriously. “Yeah, I am.” He turned and inspected his flexed arm muscles closely. “26 inches. I have dense muscle fibers,” he reported. “And, um, good bones.” There was silence for a moment. Sam sat still, watching the unwavering young muscleman flexing his biceps. After a minute, Casey looked up, and brought his right arm closer to Sam. “You can touch it,” Casey said eagerly. “Feel how hard it is.” “Okay,” Sam said calmly. He rose to his feet, brought his hand up and touched the enormous biceps head with his fingers. It was impossibly hard and hot. He looked into Casey’s blue eyes, and smiled. Then he clapped the mountainous biceps full with his palm. He stroked, softly and more thoughtfully. In spite of himself his eyes grew wide for a moment. He had never felt any part of any man to be so hard to the touch. It was as if he was stroking hot, smooth iron. Casey looked at Sam a moment, then turned away, lowering his arm. He pulled a 5-gallon aluminum thermos from the refrigerator, unscrewed the top, and drank heavily. Sam watched him. He drank about a gallon, water running down his beautiful scruffy chin, then stopped, and held out the bottle for him. “Distilled water. Want some?” “I’m good.” “Okay.” He drank the another 2 gallons while Sam watched. “Sit down,” said Sam. “Thanks,” said Casey, as if he were the guest. He sat. Both men sat at the table. Casey wiped his mouth. “Hang on a minute,” Casey suddenly said. He reached into the kitchen table drawer and brought out a little vial. He shook out three capsules, grabbed his water bottle and swallowed them down, drinking the last gallon. Sam smiled. “Drugs?” Casey smiled back. “Just some P21.” He paused again. “Wait a minute while I get an orange.” He got up and walked across the room to a bowl of fruit. He grabbed an orange and chowed it down whole, without bothering to peel it. Then he smiled. “Okay, I’m ready,” he said. October 21st, 2021 1845 Hours “Pay attention. Lick it,” Abdul commanded, and Casey licked Abdul’s lengthy shaft from base to tip, as he would an ice cream cone. “Balls,” Abdul added, and Casey leaned in and turned his head up into the man’s perineum, the massive log now lying hard and lazy on his face, extending from jaw to hairline, gobbling at the leathery scrotum sacs that hung and swayed, slapping against Abdul’s iron muscled quads. Lolling the cock around in his mouth, Casey glanced up. The men were gathered around him now. Waiting, their pants still buckled, their flies up, bulging, waiting their turn. Waiting. 17 more cocks, all huge, bobbing, erect, ready to be tasted, probed, learned. His head was reeling now. The P21 was zinging about in his system. It was, after all, an aphrodisiac (although in truth, Casey wouldn’t have known the word). Wow, thought Casey. I like this. I really, really like this. No, 18 cocks. For there he was, in line, at the end, waiting. The monster cock. Sergeant Moster. Moster’s monster. “Moster has a monster….” Casey began to giggle. “Get serious and keep sucking,” commanded Abdul. “Yes, sir,” said Casey. The P21 was still kicking in. Even as Abdul pulled out, shooting thick rivers of white Arab cream, his blasting cum covering Casey’s face, and Blankenship stepped up for his turn, his own monster machine pushing through Casey’s lips, Casey knew he wanted it, too. “AUUUGHHHHNNN GGGHHH!!” cried Abdul, his mammoth pole shooting ropes of semen onto Casey’s face. Casey received the facial calmly. It felt warm and wonderful. He didn’t bother to wipe it off. Cum streamed down his face. Badge of honor. He wanted them all to line up to suck his cock. Now. It was as if Moster was reading his mind. “You’ll have to wait your turn, boy. Before you get your cock sucked in this squad, first you have to suck all of ours.” Casey shrugged. “Okay,” he said, and a moment later, his mouth was full of Blankenship’s ploughing, plundering machine. And on either side of him, Chad and LeFevre were now rubbing their protruding trouser bulges on his traps, impatiently awaiting their turns. He could also barely make out between Blankenship’s hip plunges that Lang was on his knees now, feverishly servicing Alvarez. Obviously Lang couldn’t wait. Okay. It was fine with him. It was all good. He looked up. Blankenship was closest to him, flexing biceps now. Wow, Casey thought. But mine are bigger. Wait till he sucks my cock. Behind Blankenship stood Gunst, eagerly awaiting his turn. Gunst’s cock was one he was looking forward to. He rapidly finished up on Blankenship, bringing him to climax, and then pushing him out of the way, grabbed for Gunst, who, surprised, came forward awkwardly. “Give me your dick, big man,” said Casey. “And let me see those big guns of yours.” Gunst began to flex huge biceps, as Casey took the giant cock in his mouth and began to chow down on it. Wow. Even bigger than Abdul’s. February 10th, 2022 2100 Hours Casey had oiled his arms up just before he met Sam in the corridor. He knew he wanted to show his biceps to the handsome young officer. It was as if he knew Sam would be coming. An instinct. From across the lab earlier that evening he’d seen the gleam in Sam’s eye, saw the once-over that was a little different, saw the stare Sam couldn’t cover at his large package. He knew there would be deep-throating going on before the evening was over. He could hardly wait. But first, he had oiled his biceps. “Play with then. G’wan. Feel my biceps. Have some fun with them. You know you want to.” Casey raised his fists higher and took a step closer. Sam could feel his breath. Sam brought up both his hands, and ran them along the flexed biceps of both Casey’s arms. He clapped the hard peaks, smacked the left forearm, and ran his fingers along a network of thick veins. Casey moved a little closer still. He brought his left arm right up under Sam’s nose. “…….why don’t you lick it…..?” he murmured. Sam gazed into Casey’s eyes. His gaze was mild, unthreatening, encouraging, hopeful, but firm. He wanted his biceps licked. Sam slowly leaned in, his eyes never leaving Casey’s and lightly flicked the biceps head with his tongue. Casey’s eyes closed and he inhaled gallons of air, heavily heaving forward. Then…… R-r-r-i-i-i-i-p-p-p! That was all it took – the touch of Sam’s tongue. Each of the straining sleeves of his t-shirt gave way, and tore open wide. Casey’s biceps burst free of their final confine, both gleaming with power. Sam licked the peaks, ran his tongue firmly up and down mountains of muscle, tasting dusky mineral oil. A droplet of moisture streamed slowly down the left peak. Sam licked it up. “Your shirt’s going,” he said quietly. “Fuck it,” said Casey. The fabric stretched to its maximum length, and split again in six different places, drifting gently down his torso and hanging at his belt. Casey tore off the remnants of the shredded t-shirt and blasted into a front lat spread. “It’s gone. I go through a lotta shirts this way.” "I'm sure of it." “I wanna keep posing for you.” “Go for it.” “Stand back then.” Casey started reeling off poses. First, he showed off his 60” chest in six different ways - front lat spread, most muscular, side chest left and right, crab shots, and slow pec dancing. "Boom Boom Boom Boom," he yelled out proudly as his pecs leaped and danced. His nipples were taut and high and hard. He wriggled and slapped his quads, still encased in the skintight white jeans. He turned full around and went into a lat spread, hands on his hips. “Watch this,” he commanded. His lats flared wider than seemed humanly possible. He arched his butt towards the ceiling and threw his head back, and every tendon of his back leaped out. Veins criss-crossed the canvas of his physique. Sam resisted a momentary impulse to fall to his knees and bury his face in his glorious butt. Somehow he restrained himself. Casey turned back front. “Doin’ hair now,” he said, cocking one biceps up and palming the back of his head with the other arm. Sam laughed. “You’re too young to remember Tom Platz.” Aha. In an instant, Casey got it. This dude knows who Tom Platz is. The dude likes muscle. Casey covered well. “I know who he was! He was awesome! "BAM!” Casey flexed his biceps. “You’ve never seen guns like this!” His enormous muscles danced, gleaming brilliantly in the bright kitchen light. Sam saw the look in Casey’s eye, and knew in a flash that he’d blown his cover. He was a muscle worshipper, too. Shit. Still, he covered well. “How about a little more oil there?” “Sure!” Casey said eagerly, secretly overjoyed. A worshipper! WOW. He whipped open a cabinet door and produced a large bottle of mineral oil. “Pour it on me, baby!” Sam stood and smiling, slowly unscrewed the bottle cap. He poured a generous amount of oil into his palm, and began to apply to Casey’s pecs. Casey brought his hands back to his hips and expanded his chest to its fullest size. Sam smoothed the oil onto the muscle boy. Beneath his hand he could feel Casey’s heart beating, the blood pulsing, the unyielding hardness of warm muscle. He rubbed the oil in. Casey’s pecs glistened, and droplets of sweat beaded into the mixture. Sam poured more oil and layered it onto to his rocky washboard abs. He smoothed the liquid evenly, then rubbed his hands together and took hold of the flaring lats, running his hands down Casey’s obliques. Sam glanced down at Casey’s jeans. The looming fly was beginning to bulge even larger. The men’s eyes met. Casey’s face colored a little. He was embarrassed. “Sorry, man,” he said. “Getting oiled always works me up.” He reached down to his crotch, squatted a little, pushing his big butt out, and adjusted himself. His face was bright red now. He explained. “These pants are too tight. Zaftig made us wear them tonight. Usually we’re just in jocks. Or posers. They’re made specially just for us. So we can fit everything in them.” He was breathing heavily, now, and though he felt slightly humiliated that his priapic eagerness was showing so clearly. All the same he was happy and satisfied that things were going so well. He had gotten to show Sam his muscles up close before the other guys did, and without getting caught. He flexed again his biceps and stood back. “I like doing that,” he said. “Go right ahead.” “Okay!” He flexed a few moments more, and then stopped. “So what do you want to know?” he asked happily. He looked down. “Sorry about the hard on.” There was no hiding it now. “It’s okay. You’re young. It’s bound to happen. Not a problem. Pull your pants down.” “Yeah?” asked Casey happily. “Yeah. I know you big bodybuilders love to pull your pants down, keep them over your ankles, waddle around with your pants over your big feet, showing off your quads…” “Okay!” Casey was practically singing with joy at the prospect of showing this handsome new guy, a guy he’s just met and already was swooning for, his huge muscles. “And my hams, wait until you see my hams…..” he crooned as he pulled his pants down to his ankles. October 21st, 2021 1900 Hours Casey looked down the row of waiting musclemen, shifting nervously, eagerly from foot to foot, and saw that Moster would come last – that implacable huge mountain of a member would be the last of the evening to maraud his throat. He closed his eyes and dreamed as Gunst let loose with a cascade of gism down his throat. Casey swallowed every drop. And was on to the next, who, it happened, was Chad. Followed by LeFevre. Together the two men plunged their cocks down Casey’s throat at the same time. He’d been sucking cock twenty minutes now, on his knees, his face thick with cum deposits, now and then flexing his own huge biceps while he sucked, now and then switching back and forth to Schumacher and Waring. The men watched intently. Casey pulled back and called out to Moster. “Tell them all to pull their pants down. Now. Around their ankles. Keep them down. I want to see their quads. And their hams.” He licked his lips, then wiped his hands on his cheeks and lapped up the cum. He grinned. It was even in his eyes. He didn’t care. “You heard him, men,” called out Moster from the back of the line. He unzipped and plunged his pants down to his ankles. All unzipped. Pants around ankles. Huge quads blazing with veins. And thick cocks, erect, lining up, down the row, one after another. Even Tiffany’s. And even Tiffany’s was huge. And beautiful. “Yeah, lookin’ good,” Casey mumbled, licking his Chad’s cock now. “Take ‘em both, boy,” Chad growled, his good humor vanished. “Yes, sir,” said Casey, sucking obediently. His knees were beginning to hurt. He reached down to rub them, and in an instant, the sweet-hearted Eli Meyer, from the back of the line, was suddenly there at his side with a pillow, which he got from God knew where, fluffing and arranging. He tapped the top of Casey’s quads and, one knee at a time, and never breaking his suck rhythm, Casey lifting each leg and allowed the pillow to be slid under his aching, bruised knees. Eli rose and Casey saw his bobbing cock, eye to eye. “Wanna thank you,” he muttered. He reached up and tousled his hair. He could see Eli was hoping for service. Casey pushed Chad and LeFevre roughly away and grabbed Eli by the hips, pulling him close. “Unzip,” he commanded, forming the words clearly so that Eli could read his lips. He unzipped and his eager, big young muscleboy penis spilled out. Casey’s mouth enveloping his now-at-attention rigid cock. Chad and LeFevre grumbled angrily but backed off, impressed by Casey’s determination. He was done with them. “Maybe we should have gotten him the pillow?” “It’s okay,” said LeFevre as he knelt before Chad and finished the job, grabbing Chad’s cock and enveloping it with his lips. He pumped himself to release as Chad shot in his mouth. “AUUUGHHHGGGHHH FUCCCKKK!!” Casey paid no attention. He worked Eli to a frenzied climax in no time. Thick spurts of cum travelled down his throat. An instant later, there was Obatu’s big black rod, marauding his mouth. “Keep those pants down around your ankles,” Casey commanded. “I wanna see quads. And bulges.” “Yes, sir,” answered one of the men. Probably Lang. “You heard the boy. Pants down. Around the ankles. Keep those cocks covered till he’s ready for you,” ordered Moster. “It’s what the boy likes,” he added. All the while, Dr. Irving’s video cam continued to whirr. Dr. Shaft will pay major bucks for this tape, thought Moster with some satisfaction. Thousands. Casey finished with Obatu, cumming in his mouth, sperm dribbling down Casey’s chin into big pools on the pillow beneath his knees. “AUUUGHHHGGGHHH shittttt!!” "Glad you enjoyed it," said Casey. "Next?" The line moved forward one more man. Moster’s turn was coming up soon. February 10th, 2022 2115 Hours Sam stood back and smiled, still breathing hard himself from the posing routine he had just witnessed. The kid was charming. Was it an act? Had to be. No matter. Casey was right. His hamstrings were sick. Back-blooming with thick roiling mounds of sheer striated muscle, in line with his rock hard butt, sweeping past the back of his head, thick and solid and bursting. But everything about the swole, beautiful young muscle beast was sick. And swole. Sam caught his breath. Casey was sweating now, standing before him in only his bulging posers, his pants still around his ankles. Sam decided to play it calm. “So. How long have you lived here?” “Three years.” Casey was breathing heavily, trying to seem casual, but with his swelling penis smoothing out the few folds that were in his posers, poling ever outward, it was increasingly impossible. “I think give or take, 3 years. Um. I don’t remember. Seems like forever. I got here when I was 17. But I only moved up the hill here a few months ago. When they thought I was big enough.” “When they thought you were big enough.” “Yeah.” “I see.” “Had a really tough workout tonight before the showing. Let’s see. Got here three years ago. I think.” He put the bottle down and started counting on his fingers, thinking hard. “Zaftig first spotted me when I was 15. I just got thrown out of school. I had nowhere to go. He told me to start training heavier, and he got me a little apartment. He paid me to train, said he wanted to see where I would be in two years.” He ticked off a finger. “I trained hard on my own for two years. When I was17, um, yeah, when I was 17, I finally met Zaftig. And that’s when he moved me here to the mountain.” “Why were you thrown out of school?” “Fighting.” He picked up the bottle and drank again. “I put about 12 guys in the hospital one night.” “I see.” “They were laughing at my dick.” “Uh hunh.” Casey changed the subject. “Zaftig thought I had real potential. But there were a few guys ahead of me. One or two dropped out of the program. A few got promoted into ranks. Once I got here, I started really training, training hard. Day and night. Had to follow a strict regimen.” “Sounds tough.” “Naw. I like it. I mean, what else can I do? Not much. I’m dumb.” Casey chugged the last of the 5 gallons. Sam watched him silently. He put the empty bottle down and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “I mean, yeah, it’s tough, but not so much when you love lifting like I do.” “Tell me about it. Tell me more about you.” “Hunh? Really? You want to know about me?” “Sure.” October 21st, 2021 1940 Hours Tiffany’s session had come and gone as fast as Casey could get the mean little muscleboy to cum. In his mouth, as it happened. Now Moster stood in front of Casey. It was finally his turn. All the men leaned in to watch. “Men, dismissed,” Moster said calmly. “Casey, to the showers.” The men looked at each other, stunned and perplexed. Abdul grumbled and walked quietly out of the room. He would head for the heavy bag room first and once he’d worked up a sweat, then find Pedro again. “Let’s go pose,” said Lang to Alvarez after a moment. “Yeah. Let’s go.” The two left the room. All filed out, a little perplexed. “Ain’t he even gonna spank him?” Hension asked plaintively as they left the gym floor. “How many times do you have to be told, don’t say ‘ain’t’,” barked Obatu, clapping him on the back of the head. “Ouch!” “Hit him in the face and he’s yours forever,” said Chad. Casey heard the men roaring as they headed down the hall. He wiped some of the cum off his face. Damn, every time he met with these guys he walked away coated with cum. Stlll, it tasted good. Damn good. He wiped his cheek and licked his fingers. “That was fun!” Already Casey recognized Blankenship’s voice. The laughing subsided as the men moved away down the hall. Yeah, Casey thought, it was. He had to agree. “Casey? The showers.” “Yes, sir.” He got up and turned to go, wiping his face and mouth with a towel. Eli scrambled to get the cum-covered pillow, which he threw at Dr. Irving, getting cum all over his lab coat before scampering out of the room, grabbing his clothes. Moster watched as the harried Irving packed up the camera and the lights and left the room, wiping his coat and muttering angrily as he left. What came next Casey couldn’t quite believe. “I’ll join you in the shower in 10 minutes. Get ready for me.” Casey turned back and stared. Moster had crossed to his desk and reached into a drawer for a small vial. He was taking a handful of white caps. He smiled up at Casey. “My guess is that you need a little more intro into what we do here. To relax. Go ahead, Casey. Showers.” “The showers……” Casey repeated dumbly. “Yes. Hit the showers. I’ll join you. I think I need one, too.” Moster stretched, raised his arms behind his back, rotated his massive torso. In his trousers his huge organ shifted lazily. Casey gaped a moment at Moster. “You need a …..?” “A shower. Yes.” “With…..just me?” “I think so. Few things I want to talk about. Privately. Got it?” “Uh….” “Go on then." “Yes, sir!” Casey backed out the door, turned, and and ran down the corridor. Towards the showers. This time, he knew exactly where he was going. February 10th, 2022 2125 Hours Casey was thrilled that an officer as handsome as Ensign Victor was interested in his story. He sat down on the stool opposite Sam and spread his arms out wide. But he paused, perplexed. “What d’ya wanna know?” “Well, do you ever get out?” “Away from here? Sometimes. We’re told to stay away from town, but some of the guys go sometimes. At night. And sometimes we head down to LA.” “LA? Why?” “Some of the men who fund us live there. We show up and demonstrate our progress.” “I see. In a group? All of you at once?” “Occasionally. Usually we, you know, split up. Into smaller groups. And we’re allowed, if we’re discreet, to make private appointments, and we can keep the all money, too.” He stopped, proud. “I’ve made about $30,000. Just in the last six months. They’re keeping it for me.” Sam tried to keep a straight face. “$30,000?” He coughed. “Okay. So ….you hustle?” Casey colored, looked down, and seemed a little mortified. “No, not really. Is it? I guess it is. But some men like to see our muscles in private sessions, and ask us to do….um, things…to them…to show off our strength.” “I can imagine. And they pay you?” “Well, they contribute. And if they want to, um, suck our cocks, or fuck us, or have fuck them, or kiss our buttholes or something, then they have to contribute more.” “Isn’t that hustling?” “Okay, I guess it is. You see, I hadn’t had much experience before then.” “Experience? You mean you’d never had sex with a man before?” “No. Never. Not with anyone. Not until I got here. I still haven’t fucked a girl. They won’t let me. I want to, I guess. I mean, if she likes muscles, I mean, why not? But no, no sex. Not before I got here. But …then…after that – WOW. Like, every day! And I like sucking cock, I guess. And fucking. And I really like fucking tight bubblebutts. And I go nuts when I get worshipped. When littler guys, like you, tell me how big I am. How strong. How muscular. When guys….” He stopped, suddenly mortified. The words had come out in a rush. Maybe he was revealing too much. But Sam was calm. “Go on.” He plunged back in. “I just go crazy. You see…” he paused, now completely beet red with embarrasment, “getting my cock sucked while guys talk about my muscles takes me to……another planet, I guess. I lose all control.” “How?” Sam’s tone was warm, understanding. “I……I guess I get mean. Happy. Nasty. Mean. I mean, I like it. No, that’s not right. I crave it. I crave getting my cock sucked. And I like to show them how strong I am. You know, throw them around a bit. Pick them up. Carry them around, throw them down on the floor, step on them, sit on them. Sit on their faces. It’s easy. And they pay more, too.” Sam leaned in, his voice sympathetic. “You sit on them?” “Yeah….” Casey’s voice was low. “Tell me all about it,” he said. “Okay,” said Casey. He thought back. “It started when they made me start to suck cock. To see if I liked it. And….I did. I do.” And he remembered back to that first night – when he’d first sucked cock. When he’d first sucked all of their cocks, as it happened. He leaned in, and began to talk. How exciting it all was at first…but then how he longed for something more. He knew he could trust Ensign Victor. Sam was, after all, a muscle worshipper. And Casey was close to the best there was. Casey had long dreamed of his very own muscle worshipper. The legend that bodybuilders are aloof and don’t want to be worshipped? Bullshit. Bodybuilders wanted their very own private worshippers just as much as muscle schmoes wanted bodybuilders. If Casey knew anything at all, he knew that. He’d learned it in LA. And now he was going to tell Sam all about it. And then tell Sam that he knew just exactly what he was. And Sam, of course, was all ears, all solicitation and comfort. Even as he felt his own excitement growing. He felt his cock, too, burgeoning in his trousers, until he didn’t think he could stand it much more. But of course, he’d have to stand it. At least until Casey was finished talking. And so, Sam listened. Patiently, as it happened. And Casey talked and talked. As Sam’s cock got stiffer and stiffer.