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      Help contribute, donate via PayPal or join with a monthly Patreon contribution.   01/01/17

      To help raise funds I've introduced a monthly contribution option called Pateron. This service allows you to pledge a monthly contribution plus allows me to offer you some rewards for your contribution. If you have any questions you may PM me. If you'd like to make that contribution please click on the image below:      
    • CMiller

      NEWS: Discord Server & Clubs (aka Groups) are back!   08/19/17

      Hello everyone I'm back with a couple big updates! Firstly we now have a Discord server, this is a real-time chat messaging client you can run on your phone, desktop, or anywhere. It's a pretty powerful desktop application that enables people to chat together, and with multiple channels you can find people interested in what you're interested in. If you don't already have a Discord account it's pretty easy to get one, just click the following invite link to get started: https://discord.gg/U93PYnB Secondly I'm proud to announce the return of Groups, it's been renamed to Clubs and is now available here: https://muscle-growth.org/clubs/. This system is entirely user generated and allows users to create groups of their own based on any subject they want. Go ahead and try it now, visit the link above to get started if you want to create or join a group!   As always thank you to all of our donators and Patreon contributors who keep the forums going! 

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  1. 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.
  2. Too Big - Part Nine

    “So, Adonis, I’ve told you a lot about myself, but you’ve shared no information. How about you tell me a story about yourself.” “What would you like to hear, Atlas?” “Well, let’s start with this – besides me, who is the biggest guy you’ve ever known.” “That’s easy. His name is Rex and he’s the bodybuilder I dated for about a year – until he kicked me out of my own house about a week ago.” “What do you mean out of your own house?” “So, here’s the story. About a year and a half ago I started going to a new gym. I had wanted to start anew – feeling I was getting a little too set in my ways. Anyway, I joined this place near my house – specifically because it didn’t seem too intimidating. Average guys worked out there, so I felt like I’d be more comfortable. Since I usually work out in the early mornings, I did see a few bigger guys who took advantage of the quiet and small crowds. One day, I was doing some bench presses, minding my own business when suddenly I heard this deep voice near me. “Hey squirt, don’t let your back come off the bench when you push up.” I looked around and saw a very muscular man sitting on a bench near me. He was staring at me while he took a rest from benching a much more heavily loaded bar. I wasn’t sure he was talking to me, so I looked the other way to see if anyone else was near. “Dude, you’re the only squirt within talking distance. The big man is giving you some important advice. Don’t arch your back while you bench that little weight you’ve got on the bar. You’ll hurt yourself.” In spite of better judgment I decided to ignore his cockiness and blatant demeaning words and engage him. I sat up and took a better look. He was, indeed, a big man. Nothing close to you, Atlas, but compared to me he was massive. I had never had a guy so big talk to me – engage me in that way – so it was kind of flattering. I somehow became confident, myself, and answered back in a way I hoped would please him. “Thanks for the advice, it’s quite clear you know what you’re talking about.” “Why’s that, little man?” “You’re huge, that’s why.” This clearly pleased the big man. He bounced his pecs teasingly and then looked down at himself. He didn’t immediately look back up – no, he actually took a long gaze at his own body – as if he was seeing it for the first time. Suddenly, it dawned on me that he was, in fact, just taking time to admire himself. I caught on immediately that he was a complete narcissist. Later, I would come to regret it, but I wasn’t turned off by his actions or words at he time. In fact, I was actually turned on. His cockiness made me desire him even more. Every part of my brain told me to ignore him, but the way his arms bulged out of his tank top made another part of my body too excited to not engage him. He stared at himself for far too long, but he finally looked up and spoke. “Yeah, I am huge. Especially next to you. What are you, ten years old?” “Um . . . I’m thirty.” “Thirty! Geez, is this your first day in a gym, squirt?’ “Not exactly.” “Well, it looks like it.” He stood up and my mouth went dry. He was gorgeous – well, at least to me. I hadn’t been with a man for a long time, so I was also a little desperate. He was okay looking – in that sleazy gym-rat kind of way, but his body was what I considered, at the time, perfect. He had really broad shoulders, huge slabs of meat for pecs, big arms, and quads that showed he didn’t skip leg day like some guys. And he was, indeed, much bigger than me. One of the problems with being a muscle worshipper is that you tend to ignore or miss things about certain big guys – just because you desire bulges so much. Looking back, I now know I should have noticed the slight potbelly through the shirt – clearly too many beers a night for chiseled abs. I should have noticed the injection marks all over his body and immediately known it was steroids that made him cocky. I also should have noticed a meanness in his gaze, since I’d come to know it soon enough. But all of those things went unnoticed because I so wanted to be with a big guy – to me, he looked like Mr. Olympia. He sauntered over to me and reached down to squeeze my biceps. He tightened his hand around it until pain shot through my biceps. I let out a muffled squeal and he squeezed harder – as if it was a warning – and then let go. “Yep, just as I thought – no bigger than a ten-year old. Grab hold of this, dweeb, and see what a real man feels like.” He flexed his impressive biceps and then grabbed my hand, placing it on his arm. The thing didn’t bulge like yours, Atlas. It was more like a big mound, but for me it was the closest I had ever been to a guy so big. My cock was instantly hard as steel and I started groping the muscle – hungry to feel a big man. He chuckled a little and watched as I ran my small hand all over his arm and shoulder. “So the little bitch likes muscle, does he? Well, this is your lucky day, runt. I’ve been looking for a nice little guy to do my bidding. How ‘bout you and me go back to your place and have some fun.” He flexed his arm while he spoke. It seemed so big to me. The guy did tower over me and clearly outweighed me by about seventy-five pounds. I wasn’t thinking straight, so – of course – I thought I had hit the jackpot. I immediately stood up – thinking we were about to go, but the big man put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed hard. I winced from the pain and he forced me back down on the bench. “Did I say you could get up, dude, or stop massaging my big arm? No, I did not. In order for this new relationship to work, you’re going to have to do everything Big Rex says – everything. You got that, runt?” “Um . . . yes.” “Yes, Mr. Rex!” “Uh . . . yes, Mr. Rex.” “That’s a good little runt.” “Um, Mr. Rex, my name is…” “No, no! Did I ask for your name? No I did not. Big Rex is just going to call you runt. That’ll be your new name. Got it, runt. Yeah, shake that head up and down. Don’t worry; I’ll let you grope my big body in return for your good behavior. That’s my bag over by the mirror. You pick it up and follow me out of here – stay a good two feet behind me like a good little runt. If the bag’s too heavy for your little body, then drag it out the door. But no matter what, little one, you keep up with me. You don’t want to make Rex angry by making him wait for even half a minute.” He let go of my shoulder, but the pain lingered for a while. He turned and started walking away. A smarter man would have taken the chance to run, but all I could see were wide shoulders, a big back, and arms that flared out nicely. I was a muscle junkie who needed a fix. I went and grabbed his bag, surprised by how heavy it was, but I didn’t lose any ground. I stayed behind the big man like an obedient puppy. When we got out to the parking lot he turned to me. “What little car does the little runt dive.” “The dark blue Lexus over there.” “Impressive, runt. Let’s go.” “What about your car, Mr. Rex.” “Big Rex used to take public transportation, but now he has a blue Lexus.” “Telling the story now, Atlas, I see all the warning signs that were like bombs going off all around me, but – at the time – I just wanted to spend some time with a big man. It’s amazing what being around muscles will do to certain men. I’m not very proud of myself, but at least I’m honest about why I did it.” Rex wouldn’t let me drive my own car. He insisted that the smaller guy had to be the rider. I gave him my keys reluctantly and then gave him directions on how to get to my house. He drove entirely too fast and cussed out every other driver on the road. He could tell I was a little scared so he offered me his big biceps to fondle on the way home. That helped me to ignore his rants and his reckless driving. When we got to my house he let out a whistle and said he was very impressed. I was happy he liked it. When we got inside he insisted I take him on a tour of what he called his new home. What he said didn’t really register because he had taken off his tank top once inside the door and allowed me to grope his chest for a few minutes – as if he were giving me little gifts to keep me distracted. It clearly worked. When we got to the master bedroom he told me it would work out perfect for him and then dived onto the bed. He bounced up and down – noticing the springs squeaked a little. “I’m afraid those squeaks are going to get louder and louder every time I pound your little ass, runt. Get over her and massage my back.” He flipped over on his stomach and pulled one of the big pillows under his head. I immediately went over, kicked my shoes off, and then crawled on top of him, straddling his ass. I reached up and started with his shoulders. I ignored the slight pudge that seemed to surround his muscles and simply tried to give him pleasure. “Damn, your hands are smaller than a baby’s and even weaker. Put some muscle into it runt.” I doubled my efforts and squeezed his skin with what I hoped he found a tighter grip. Within five minutes into the massage, Rex was sound asleep and snoring loudly. At first I didn’t know what to do, so I simply continued to massage him – mainly because I got to grope his big body. After about forty-five minutes it became clear he wasn’t going to wake up any time soon, so I lay down beside him – staring at his big arm until I fell asleep, as well. I dreamed of muscle, which gave me a raging hard on. Suddenly, I was awakened by Big Rex’s hand gripping my hard cock and squeezing the life out of it. “Looks like the runt was dreaming of Big Rex. Get up, little man, I’m hungry. What are you going to fix me to eat.” He let go of my cock, but it took me at least a minute curled up on the bed to get rid of the pain so I could stand. Rex had conveniently gone in to take a shower and was singing some cheesy love song at the top of his lungs. I went into the bathroom and stared at his naked body – again, oblivious to all the things that proved he was no real bodybuilder and only seeing how huge he was to me. I was slightly disappointed when I saw the size of his cock and it was clear he saw it in my eyes. “Don’t worry, runt. I’m a grower – not a show-er. Besides, it’s more about knowing what to do with the tool. Trust me, I’ll have you walking funny in no time. Now go make me some dinner.” He threw his arms into a double biceps pose and smiled. Again, it was his way of keeping me full of desire. You would have thought I had just figured out my muscle fetish and I was seeing a Hercules film for the first time – that’s how crazy with desire he made me. All I wanted to do was make the big stud in my shower dinner and then get the chance to feel his muscles. I’m afraid by this point I had already fallen down the rabbit’s hole and I was not coming back anytime soon. I prepared a feast for a king and when he came into the kitchen in nothing but some purple posers my lust jumped into overdrive and I treated him like some kind of god. I had made two place settings at the dining room table – across from each other – and had even lit some candles. He came into the room and immediately moved his place setting to the end of the table – beside mine, not across. “Big daddy always sits at the head of the table and the little boy sits to his left. Don’t ever forget the hierarchy again, runt. This meal looks very good. You’ve done well. Where’s the wine for your big man, though?” As if to lessen the sting of what he had just done and said, Rex grabbed me behind my head and quickly smashed my face into his right pec. It actually hurt a lot, but then he pressed my mouth against his nipple and I knew I was supposed to suck. I forgot about the pain as I went to town on his hairy nub. And just like that, it was over. He released my head and motioned for me to go get the wine. I was too excited by the brief interaction with his big pec that I simply did as he said. I celebrated the fact that I had a huge man in my house. It was like I was walking on clouds – that’s how deeply I was in denial. I came back into the dining room and he had already started – not thinking twice about me. I started to open the wine, but he waved me to give him the bottle. “That’s the man’s job, runt. Sit down and eat. You’ll need your strength later on, so get some nourishment.” I was foolishly overjoyed to sit beside him. He opened the wine, poured himself a full glass and then poured me a half of one. When he saw my face he merely said I was so small that any other amount would put me under the table. I came to realize much later on that he simply wanted more for himself. We ate in silence for a few minutes – him chewing with his mouth open and slurping down his wine. I didn’t notice, though, because every now and then he’d flex his arm to throw me a bone. It worked and I stayed very happy. Halfway through the meal, Rex ordered me to go get another bottle of wine. I, still, had only been given half a glass, so that meant the big man was starting to get a little tipsy and slur his words. The alcohol seemed to brighten his spirits, at least at first. He pushed his chair back and patted his bare thighs. “Come sit in this big man’s lap, little one.” The idea of being that close to him made me ignore his comments on my size. He positioned me across his legs and reached down to grab my hand, placing it on his huge pec. He was giving me the okay to grope. I didn’t need to be invited twice. I started kneading his pec – shocked a little by how flabby it seemed, but every now and then he’d tense it and I’d get a jolt to my crotch. At one point I leaned in forward to kiss him, but he turned his head and grabbed my hair with his big hand. He pulled my own head backwards, roughly, and held me there. “No kissing, runt. My lips won’t be soiled by the likes of you. I’m here to feed your need for muscle, not to be some kind of husband and wife. I save my lips for others. I may let the boys get off on my body, but it’s the ladies that get the best of me. Don’t you forget it, either. You just keep playing with Rex’s big body and you’ll get your satisfaction.” The shock his words caused clearly showed on my face as he let go of my hair. It immediately softened his tone and he flexed his arm – inviting me to feel it. I did, hesitantly at first, but then he flexed and I was a goner. “Don’t be shocked that big Rex is bi, little man. That’s gonna make you even happier. It’s what makes me more masculine that all those other guys you’ve been with. Here’s to a long relationship between the two of us. I like our house. It’s going to suit me just fine.” The impact of his words dissipated as soon as he put a big hand behind my head and pushed my face into his bulging biceps. I lost all control of my body and as my lips and tongue explored his flexed arm I emptied a muscle-loving load into my underwear. He laughed out loud as he felt my body convulsing from its ejaculation. As soon as my body calmed down, Rex became very gentle. He stood up, lifting me into his arms at the same time, leaned over to blow out the candles and then carried me to the bedroom. He placed me on the bed and then lay down next to me. Within two minutes the guy was snoring like a foghorn and I finally drifted off to sleep, as well. I was awakened around four o’clock by a pretty hard slap to my face. It took a few minutes for me to fully register what was happening. Rex was trying to get me awake and fast – he had my legs against his shoulders and he was trying to shove his semi-hard cock up my ass. I was instantly awake. I could tell Rex was still pretty drunk. He was in no shape to perform the task he was attempting. I asked him to stop and he struck my face again – this time it was harder. “Quiet, bitch! Let me concentrate.” It was clear that no amount of concentration was going to help the man. After a few minutes of him slamming his crotch against my butt he fell on me exhausted. Feeling his heaviness on me – and noticing the muscles that seemed to envelope me – made me somewhat forget what had just happened and helped me to enjoy the moment. The big man was clearly asleep again and I figured all of what had just happened had been done in his sleep. It’s amazing what we’ll forgive when we’re suddenly satisfied by something else. I loved having him on top of me. I loved groping his arms and feeling his big chest pushing into me. I laughed because I suddenly realized my pants were still on – and Rex still had on his posers. This had clearly been something he was attempting in his sleep. He would remember none of this tomorrow. The sting of his slap, however, was still on my face. I hope you don’t judge me, Atlas, but over the next few months I came to fear Rex as much as I liked him. It was wild how he could wrap me around his finger when he wanted to. He’d flex for me, he’d let me rub him down with oil, he’d let me measure his muscles, and he’d let me make him happy. At the same time he could be so cruel. I quickly figured out that he had nowhere else to go. I put two and two together and realized he’d been living with different friends for a long time and spent what little money he made on steroids and gym memberships. All he wanted to do was get bigger, which was happening – mainly because of the steroids. The hitting was not frequent and so I could foolishly forgive him after he would cry, beg my forgiveness, buy me gifts, and then take off his shirt for me to worship him. Only now can I realize he brought nothing to the relationship. He only used me for the things he needed. About a month ago I told him I wanted him out of my life – forever. I told him I would go to the police if he did not leave. He laughed and told me to go ahead. That very next day I did, indeed, go to the police station and a very kind inspector listened to my story. When I was done, he sighed, and told me that this was not a police matter – it was a lover’s quarrel and maybe going to some counseling together would help. I had been too embarrassed to tell the officer that Rex was hitting me. I left, completely deflated, and went home. Once there, I found out that Rex had changed all the locks on the doors and left a bunch of my clothes on the front lawn. “I’ve spent the last few weeks in a hotel and meeting with lawyers to figure out what the next step might be. Our crazy state has laws about cohabitation and partners and shared assets. It’s so disturbing and frustrating. I’d just like to be rid of the man for once and for all.” Atlas looked down at the cute man in front of him – with so much tenderness it was almost overwhelming. He had listened to the smaller man’s story with disbelief and complete understanding at the same time. Adonis could sense that the big man did not judge him in the least. He could feel that, somehow, Atlas understood. The two men stood there for a few minutes – completely ‘in touch’ with the other. There was no need for words, really, but finally Atlas spoke. “Listen, this Rex fella does not represent all big men. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t represent any decent man – no matter the size. Remember that I told you my father had a profound talk with me when I was younger and I was bigger than everyone around me. That talk shapes the core of me to this day . . . and beyond. With size and strength comes great responsibility. Bullies who use their strength to put others down or – god forbid – to hurt other people only do it because they aren’t big men on the inside. You can have all the muscles in the world – all the strength – and still be small. That’s what this Rex guy is – he’s small on the inside. He’s clearly so ashamed of something within him that he takes it out on others. You deserve better than that, Adonis. Yes, your lust for muscle and a big man got in the way of your judgment, but that’s pretty normal. I’m so sorry you had to endure such a long time of being abused by someone so unworthy of you. And it was abuse, no matter what you say. I’m so sorry he hurt you so much.” The smaller man’s legs wobbled again and tears welled up in his eyes. It was the first time someone had said such loving things to him. He had almost given up hope on decent people existing in the world. The giant in front of him wrapped his big arms around Adonis’ shoulders and pulled him into a big muscle hug. The little guy let the sobs come and cried into the huge chest of his companion. It took about five minutes for the moment to pass. Atlas never stopped hugging, never stopped saying encouraging things. Adonis finally pulled away from the larger man and said thank you. After both men took a final sip of their drinks, Atlas signaled for the check, and then turned to the other guy. “Come on, let’s go.” “Where?” “Where else, Adonis? Let’s go get your house back and teach Rex a lesson.” “What? No, that’s okay. They guy is crazy and no telling what he’ll do. I really appreciate it, man, but let’s just stay here and have another drink.” “Does Adonis think his Atlas can’t take care of some other big man? Have you learned nothing from our conversation this evening, good sir? Taking car of bullies is my specialty. Remember, my father encouraged me to be a superhero. Besides, who else is going to be able to get back what rightfully belongs to you? The police? They called it nothing more than a lover’s spat. Lawyers? Do you really want to waste a lot of money and time waiting for that? Let Atlas help you, buddy. It would really make me happy. I love putting bullies in their place and I haven’t gotten to do it in a very long time.” “But he’s put new locks on the doors.” “Do you really believe that there’s a lock that could keep these out?” The big man flexed his humongous arms. Something stirred deeply in both men. Their desire for justice was definitely second to something else. It was their lust for Atlas showing off his strength. And both of them were suddenly very hard in anticipation of what was to come. Atlas had lowered one arm to pay the bill. He then put it back into a flex. “What do you say, Adonis?” “Let’s go get my house back.”
  3. Jeff College Roommate Part 6

    Jeff the roommate part 6 As time went by Jeff and I continued to grow stronger or should I say, Jeff grew stronger and I just stayed between 115 and 120lbs. I was his live-in tutor and cook, and he was my, well, let us just say, he grew stronger. We had no more incidents with the football team other than them inviting us to a few of their parties that we had a lot of fun at. Jeff’s grade point average climbed and by winter break, he and I were both at 3.85 gpa. He was so glad that I could help him with his grades, because in high school he barely squeaked by. I was still able to work with some of the football team and helped them as well. It was a good start to freshman year. Jeff’s strength continued to climb, like I said earlier. We would go to the gym together and I would either climb, swim or run, while Jeff went straight to the free weights and pounded the weights for hours. Our trip back to the dorm room usually consisted of him fastening me to his back like a backpack and him running or should I say sprinting around the campus taking the long way home. It got to a point that he could no longer use my body weight to warmup doing double arm curls. It was warmup when he grab the harness with one arm and just curled the hell out of me, I’m talking reps in excess of 100, then switch arms, for usually 3-4 sets. Then he’d smile and say that’s a good warmup. For him to warmup his pecs, he would put the beds on top of each other, toss me on it and maybe a dresser too. Again performing triple digit reps for 4-5 sets. Of course, while he was using his favorite weight I would be tutoring him at the same time. How strong did he get, you may ask. Well let’s just say, if I put him in an arm bar, he’d just smile at me and bring his hand to his chest over and over, laughing at my feeble attempts to wrestle him. There was a time that he came home acting pissed off due to a test he took. He pushed me against the wall, then wrapped my tshirt around his index finger, while blaming me for the score he got. With just his finger to hold me, slid me up the wall with ease. Then with just his finger pulled me away from the wall and then slammed against the wall, not hard, just enough to let me know the strength he had in one finger. As he did this about, 10 times he pulled the test out of his pocket, unfolded it, and pushed it into my face, still blaming me for the grade. I grabbed the test from him and held it up blocking his face. I looked at the paper and damn if it wasn’t a perfect score. As I lowered the paper, he had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face and my body was hanging from his finger. He quickly set me down wrapped his anaconda arms around me and lifted me into a massive bear hug, thanking me over and over. When he put me down I started to beat on him as hard as I could, “You scared the hell out me ya big lug, I thought you failed it. You overgrown gorilla, I about to shit myself and you held me with just your freakin finger ya big ox.” All the while I am hitting anywhere I can reach and he’s laughing at me. Winter break was coming fast and I wasn’t sure to go home or just hang out at the school. Jeff came home one day from school and as usual, I donned my harness and was ready for a trip to the gym. Jeff was smiling so big I thought he was gonna burst. He sauntered up standing right in front of me, grab both of the chest straps and slowly curled me into the air. Face to face with him and me just hanging from 27” biceps. “Dude how about we spend winter break together?” he asked “Um but um well are you asking or telling me?” as I glanced from his face to my feet and them being over two feet off the ground. “I’m asking.” As he started to do curls with me. “Where and why not go home?” I asked as my body swayed to his reps. “Well I just got an email from my grandparents and they want me to go to their place and watch it while they go to Hawaii over the holidays. He sent me air fare for two, it’ll be a blast. Big house, pool, secluded, even spending money too.” 30 reps and not slowing down. “Well, im not sure.” I state and with that the movement stops at 46 and so does his smile. He brings me in very close to his face, “What do you mean, you’re not sure?” I glance at his body and every muscle is getting tense and I feel his grip get even tighter than normal. Jeff is glaring at me and talking through tight teeth. “Are you telling me you would rather go home and have your step-father and brother beat you up or torture you like before. You told me that your step brother used to fasten you to weight bars and hang you for hours in the corner of his room or your step dad used to put bicycle inner tubes on you and hang you in the garage. They both would take turns lifting you and tossing you back and forth. Really, you want to go back to that, REALLY?” I just started laughing, hysterically. “Gotcha back, you little tard, remember the test, now don’t mess with me, little boy.” Keep in mind my feet are two feet off the ground and he is like a statue. I just kept laughing, and then he started laughing too. “When do we leave big guy?” I asked as I pat his shoulder. “Tomorrow. We’ll miss that last two days of school but it shouldn’t matter. Let’s get packing.” As he throws me about 7 feet in the air and a span of the room as I land on my bed about 20 feet away. Flight was good and his grandparents driver met us at the terminal and was aghast at how big Jeff had gotten. With a short drive to the hills and a long driveway. His grandparents met us at the door. Of course, they too were amazed at his size and he introduced me as his roommate and friend. They toured us through the house and then took us out to a very expensive restaurant. They left the following morning. Now just him and I alone in this big house. What do we do first? After Jeff’s grandparents left, the butler told us breakfast was ready. Jeff and I sat at the table and there was so much food, but Jeff made quick work of most of it. It was like fine dining. After breakfast we asked the driver and butler to come sit with us to get to know them. We convinced them that they could relax and didn’t need to wear suits all the time. The butler and driver were about the same size, 5’8 around 160 and they were assigned to do whatever we need them to do. The butler was also the cook and Jeff told him what we would like to eat. We also asked them if there are some fun bars in the area and they look at each other, smile, and tell us about a gay bar not far. Then we find out they are partners and live on the property in a bungalow out back. We tell them about us and how I’m the brains and he’s the brawn. We all decide to go for a swim in the huge pool out back. We all got changed and met on the deck beside the Olympic sized pool. Jeff came over and stood in front of me. He was wearing board shorts and they didn’t hide any muscle at all, in fact, the shorts were so tight it looked like a second skin on his thighs. He slipped his hands into my armpits and smiled. My feet left the ground and I traveled up to his face. “Ready for a swim?” He asked with a huge grin. “Don’t you dare as I grabbed his forearms. I mean it, you’ll be sorry.” I said with a grin He walked to the deep end of the pool, “really? And who is going to make me sorry, YOU?” then Jeff started to laugh loud and hard. He tossed me straight up into the air about a foot and spun me catching me so that I was now facing the pool. “Don’t do it.” I said with a laugh. “Enjoy your flight.” He said as he launched me about 6 feet into the air, arching over the pool so that my decent would be in the middle of the deep end. I started to fall and quickly pulled my legs up and cannon-balled into the water. Jeff walked over to the other two who were watching with amazement and just smilled. “Ya know this would be so much easier if I had harnesses for you two.” The butler raised his finger as if to say wait and headed for the garage. He returned with three full body harness. “The boss bought these when we were replacing the roof wanted us to be safe.” I had come out of the pool and joined them and the three of us proceed to put on the harnesses. Jeff came to each one of us and tightened the strap to the point they were tight but they wouldn’t come off. “Um you aren’t planning to toss us around like him are you? I mean we both weigh a bit more that he does. I mean you tossed him like his was a beach ball. You really think you can lift us?” Jeff smiled at them and then looked at me and gave a wink. The butler and driver were standing side by side. Jef grabbed the center of their harnesses with each hand. “I will do my best not to hurt you and I hope you guys don’t mind being off the ground most of the afternoon?” Jeff slowly starts to curl both of them nice and steady. “Your extra 40 pounds will help get me a pump a little faster than little Billy here. And yes, I fully intend to lift and toss you three for most of the afternoon.” Jeff completes a full arm curl with his two new weights and they are aghast at his bicep and his feat of strength. I am standing there with the biggest grin and hardon I have ever had. Jeff started to walk to the deep end of the pool holding the two about two feet off the ground. I see their legs swaying back and forth and their arms at their side swaying too. Jeff slowly moves them to each side of him. Then slowly cocks his arms back and grunts as he flings them into the air and into the water. I followed Jeff and was standing next to him, his throw looked easy again and he just kept smiling the whole time. I wasn’t paying attention to Jeff after the throw I was watching how far they flew. I was brought back when I felt something grab the back of my harness, I looked up and saw Jeff’s massive arm above me reaching to my back. “Get in there, ya little runt.” Jeff says as I am propelled like a torpedo coming out of a sub. Quick thinking I lifted my arms into a superman pose and it was like I was flying into the water, only I was about six feet off the water and flew a good 20 feet. The afternoon progressed with the three of us trying to take down the ‘monster’ called Jeff. We never did take him off is feet and he just kept lifting us out of the water then throwing us. At one point, he called us to the shallow end and said he wanted to try a few things. Jeff proceeded to grab the front of Craig and Jeremy’s harness and lifted them to his side. They both grabbed his bicep and could not stop talking about how hard and huge they were. They even punched them and Jeff was loving the attention. He then powered them both overhead and held them about 6 inches from each other. Then commenced a set of 50 reps with the 160-pound living ‘dumbbells’. He set them down and turned them so Jeremy was facing Craig, using some rebar that was laying against the fence, weaved and bent the bar so they were fastened together. Jeff grabbed the front of the harness with both hands and slowly curled them off the ground. He smiled huge that he was able to do it. “320 pound bicep curl,” he bellowed as he did 30 reps with them. Jeff grabbed me and fasted me to the back of Jeremy. I looked up at him, “Jeff, you’re looking at 420 pound curl. I know you’ve done more in the Gym but this is a little different.” Jeff just looked at me and did a double bicep flex, “you doubt this mountain of pure power?” then laughed. Again both hands grabbed Craig’s harness, I felt my feet come off the ground as he curled three men and then to all of our astonishment, he completed 30 reps with the last few being hard, but he did it. Jeff was certainly getting a workout with his little toys. With the three of us still fastened, he carried us to the edge of the pool and put his massive right leg between ours and started curling us. His thigh ballooned up so massive and Craig held his hands on it as he curled us. After 30 reps, he put us down and did the left leg. This mountain of muscle was using three, THREE, grown men to workout with. Jeff unfastened us, oh by the way, the rebar he used was half inch and he bent and unbent it like it was a simple rope. The butler, Craig, excused himself and made us lunch. While we were eating on the deck chairs, Craig mentioned that we should plan to go out to eat, then hit the bars. We all agreed and took in the sun relaxing until we headed out for an interesting night...
  4. Too Big - Part Eight

    The smaller man smiled, but at the same time he rested his small hand on the giant one of his new friend. He knew, even though the big man had been kind; that having the Professor still in his life would have been what he preferred. Both men, again, glanced down at the size difference of hands on the bar and unbeknownst to either of them two crotches twitched at the sight – at precisely the same time. The smaller guy wondered seriously how it was possible for fingers to be so thick and so huge. They looked like someone had morphed a hand on the computer – way beyond what was normal. Instinctively, both men let their fingers intertwine – just to feel close to the other. The smaller man marveled at the fact that he could not even begin to bring his fingers together – the giant’s hand was just too big and thick. “That’s not a hand, it’s a hammock.” “Would you like to rest in it?” “You know I would. I need another drink. How about you?” The big man didn’t respond, he merely turned toward the bartender – standing at the other end of the bar – and with his non-engaged hand ordered two more drinks. He then turned back toward his little friend and squeezed his hand teasingly. The little guy mouthed the word ‘ow’ and then smiled. Then, Adonis tried to squeeze his hand to offer a little pain to the big man. This made Atlas smile and then he shrugged his shoulders as if to say he hadn’t felt a thing. Adonis doubled his efforts, even reaching over with his other hand to add to the squeezing – but it didn’t matter. It didn’t register at all to Atlas. “I don’t think you’d feel it if I pounded your hand with a sledgehammer.” “Trust me, I would.” “How much can you lift now?” “You’ll be happy to hear that I can now lift the back end of my BMW with just one hand. That’s been my goal for about twelve years.” “How old are you now, Atlas?” “I’m thirty-two.” “The same age as me.” “See, we have even more things in common.” The big man squeezed his fingers again – giving a shot of uneasiness into the hand of his little friend. It was just a simple reminder of his power. Adonis let out a yelp from the quick jab of pain and was quite happy that his big friend had not compressed his fingers for very long. The little man stared at the massive forearm attached to the big hand that engulfed his. He found it wild that this part of the big man’s body could be thicker than his own leg. His forearms looked like tree trunks, but much stronger. “How can your forearms be so huge?” “Trust me, curling the front of a BMW helps. It helps a lot.” “I bet it does. I also bet you made the Professor very happy.” “I like to think I did. He was certainly into my muscle and that was one thing I had a lot of – so he never lacked for something huge to worship.” “Tell me something else the two of you liked to do – you know, to satisfy his need for muscle.” “You love stories, don’t you?” “I do. Yours are the best – since they usually involve your big body.” “Let’s see. Well, I moved in with the Professor mere days after we consummated our relationship. We both knew it was right. I adored everything about him and he couldn’t get enough of me. He said he only had one rule in his new house – and it was that I could never wear a shirt when I was at home. I had a feeling he would have liked me to go completely nude all the time, but he knew I’d never go for that. Being shirtless thrilled me as much as it did him – mainly because it meant I could flex anytime I wanted to and make him instantly hard. I think that was his goal for the rule, anyway. With my upper body uncovered all the time, my Little Prince could feel, fondle, lick, and kiss my muscles whenever he wanted. I’d be watching television and he come over; sit in my lap, and just start playing with my chest. I hardly ever got to finish a show. His need for my muscle – and, trust me, I didn’t mind – always interrupted whatever I was doing. He was addicted and I was a happy supplier. It amazed me when he’d remind me that he hadn’t been into big guys until he met me. I always said it was because no one had been big enough. I’d tease him all the time and act like I felt like I was too big – just to get him going on how that wasn’t possible.” “He was a man after my own heart.” “I’m getting that feeling.” “Anyway, the Professor was happiest when he got to be near me as I worked out. Since our relationship wasn’t really a good thing to acknowledge on campus or even in town, I was overjoyed when my Little Prince turned a big room in the back of his new place into a well-stocked gym. A month into our new relationship I got home from school and he met me at he door, told me to cover my eyes – after I lost my shirt, of course – and then guided me down the long hallway to what ended up being a better workout space than most gyms had to offer. It was the best present ever, but when I tried to thank him he said, over and over, that he was actually being selfish since he intended on watching me – and probably much more – every time I worked out. I suggested we give it a try, right away and shed my jeans as I went to the bedroom to get some tight cotton shorts. When I came back, the look on the Professor’s face told me that this workout was most certainly going to lead to multiple orgasms for both of us. “Please tell me it’s arm day.” “If you want it to be arm day, Little Prince, then it can be arm day. We can’t make every day arm day, though. Remember, I like symmetry.” “If symmetry means that every part of you is gigantic, then I like it, too.” I grabbed two monstrous looking dumbbells from the rack and noticed how the little guy sucked in air when he saw how easily I lifted the things. I believe he knew he’d only be able to roll the things across the floor – not lift them. I sat down on the end of a bench, rested the weights on the floor, and patted my knees, inviting him to come take a seat. He moved in that super speed, which I was now accustomed to. He wanted to be close when I started popping out all over from strenuous exercise. He felt like a toddler sitting on my big legs – and he kind of looked like one, too – wide-eyed, mouth gaping open, and excited breathing. I had a feeling neither of us were going to make it very far before we christened the new gym equipment with our sticky, happy juices. That was more than okay with me; I wanted to only please him. If a good workout actually happened at the same time I was giving him a thrill, then that would be a convenient win-win. I reached down and grabbed both of the heavy dumbbells resting on the ground. I sat back up straight and looked into the eyes of my gorgeous admirer. “Give your big boy a kiss, Professor.” He placed both of his hands on either side of my face and then leaned in to give me a hard-on inducing kiss that also made my toes curl up in my shoes. When he pulled back and I finally snapped back into the present moment, I raised the right dumbbell, making my biceps bulge out. His gaze immediately went to my gun. He told me, often, how he knew he’d never tire of looking at my muscles. Even after a month of me not wearing a shirt in the house, laying around together every chance we got, or him fondling me constantly – he still looked at my body as if it were the first time he was seeing it. I knew he had a doctorate in classical art studies, but I got the feeling he was studying my body more than he’d ever studied a sculpture or painting. Somehow, the living example of all those brawny Roman gods and the like was much more fun for him. He gazed at my body as if he wanted to memorize every minute detail of my hugeness. “Like the way these arms get bigger as I lift, Little Prince?” “You know I do. Look how big they are. Your biceps are thicker and bigger than my head.” It was true. I raised my arm even with his head as I brought the dumbbell up for a pump. The mound that hardened blasted to a size that dwarfed the smallness of that part of his body. Of course, I dwarfed him in every way, but that didn’t lessen the thrill of noting things like how my arm was bigger than his head. I lowered my arm and continued to do curls with the big weights. The Professor was watching the muscles of my arms as they contracted – ballooning to their seemingly supersize – and then relaxed, but stayed about ten times the size of his arms. “Was there ever a time you didn’t like being huge?” “How is that possible when it thrills you so much, Little Prince?” “Seriously.” “No . . . no, there’s never been a time when I didn’t like being huge. At age twelve I could lift more weight than my dad – and he’s a big man. Ever since I got the bodybuilding bug and realized I was destined to be humongous I have loved how it feels. I’m nineteen years old and when I shake an older man’s hand I can bring him to his knees if I feel like it. I take my shirt off in public places and the immediate silence is deafening. I like it a lot when I know a crowded room has stopped to look at me. I was going to bars to meet men when I wasn’t officially old enough to be there. No one questioned my age – since I was bigger than everyone else. The first time I made a man twice my age orgasm, just from lifting him into the air, I was permanently addicted to showing off my strength and size. There’s not a moment in the day when I’m not conscious of how my body bulges out with an enormity that can intimidate, thrill, excite, scare, or protect. I get to choose how I come across to people. I can walk into a bar and make cocks shrivel up just by tensing my body in a way that’s terrifying. I can also walk in and make cocks shoot hard just from bouncing all the bulges. Every man I meet greets me in a new way, so it’s kind of hard to get tired of that. I like waiting for someone to look up from a book or turn around to see me for the first time. In the second that follows I get to find out what that guy thinks of himself.” “What do you mean?” “Straight, gay, bi – it doesn’t matter. Guys react to me in certain patterns. Some guys immediately get cocky – as if they need to prove their manliness. They puff themselves up – as if they might be able to actually make themselves bigger than me. Those are the ones I like to add a little pressure to our handshake – and watch them immediately deflate, lose their cockiness, because they instantly realize they can’t compete. Some guys just get scared. I feel sorry for them, the most. They don’t stay around long enough to get to know me – to find out I’m a gentle giant. And then there are the other guys – my favorite – who immediately show their desire – their need to be close to me. Sometimes, it’s because they want to feel the power my body radiates. Sometimes, it’s because they hope to grope some hard muscle. And, sometimes, it’s because they hope to get to know me. You walked into that classroom on the first day, Professor Michaels, and something different happened. I was the one that became unsure – tongue-tied – and worried about not being good enough. It was a new feeling for me. I still knew I was huge. I still knew most everyone in the room was stealing glances at me, but my thoughts were focused on only one thing – getting you to like me. It’s only when your face lit up after seeing me…” “How could I miss seeing you – you took up half the room.” “It’s only after seeing your face, your smile, the twinkle in your eyes that I regained some of my confidence and knew I had hopefully caught a new admirer. Within thirty minutes of that class I knew my desire for you was off the charts. I swear it was like all of my muscles, my hugeness, had been for nothing until that moment. And now, here you sit on my lap and gaze at me as I lift heavy dumbbells – simply for your pleasure. I love working out. I love growing my muscles, but – like I said – now there seems to be a reason for all those hours in the gym. Now there seems to be a point to why I was made to be this enormous. Now, I want to grow because it pleases you. I have discovered a true reason to be strong . . . to be big.” It would end up always being the same when I lifted with him. As I pushed weights around he’d fall into a muscle-induced trance as he stared at my huge body and then we’d have deep philosophical or extremely romantic conversations – where each of us revealed our secret desires or whatever was weighing heavy on our hearts. I had finished twenty reps, so I rested the dumbbells on the floor and then raised my arms into a double biceps flex, so he could inspect my work. This was another part of our workout ritual. He got to feel the results of my lifting immediately. I held my flex while his small hands groped both peaks rocketing skyward beside my head. This was a moment when I fell into a trance – watching his tiny fingers and palms up beside my mammoth arms. He was noticing what I was staring at. “You make me feel so small.” “You make me feel so huge.” The Professor stopped massaging my big biceps and let me drop my arms. He then looked down at one of the huge dumbbells. He slid off my lap – both of us noticing how both of his legs put together didn’t match the size of just one of my thighs. He then bent down and grabbed hold of the dumbbell with both hands. The Professor wasn’t a weak man – in fact, most people would have called him athletic – in that healthy simmer’s way. He was, however, quite surprised when he could barely just lift the somewhat cumbersome big weight slightly off the floor. He held it in the air – barely an inch off the ground – for only a few seconds. I heard a loud clanking sound as the dumbbell hit the floor. The Professor had used all of his strength and was barely able to move the weight even a little. He looked up at me. “My god, it’s so heavy.” I glanced down at the dumbbell with something of a surprised look on my face. When you were as big as I was you tended to look at things differently than most people. The Professor saw something unmovable lying on the floor – I simply saw a warm-up weight. It was then that I remembered my Little Prince had commissioned special weights for his gentle giant. I looked around the room at the barbells, the other dumbbells, the racks, and the machines. I realized the poundage on all of these had been increased way beyond what you’d find at a regular gym. I looked back down at the dumbbell. I didn’t really know how much it weighed, but I knew I easily lifted it – while my small friend couldn’t get it very far off the floor, using both hands. My life had been this way for so long I had forgotten how unnatural it was. When I entered sixth grade I no longer fit comfortably into one of the classroom desks. From that year onward the school had to provide a chair and table for any room where I attended. I looked at beds – huge ones – and realized my feet would dangle off the end and most of the time there wouldn’t be room for a second person. I got quite used to men I would sleep with lying on top of me during the night. It was the only way we both could get any sleep. I looked at most chairs and only saw them as a fragile piece of furniture. I didn’t dare sit on most pieces of furniture, unless I confirmed, before, that it had a steel structure or was reinforced in some way. I naturally sought out double doors to most buildings – opening both of them to enter – or realized immediately when I needed to duck and turn my body for singe ones. I sometimes simply forgot that other men – normal men – didn’t have to think of the same things I did. I could tell the Professor understood what was going through my head. “That thing’s light for you, isn’t it?” “Um . . . yeah, yeah it is. I kind of view it as something just to get me going. You know, like a warm-up weight.” This made my little friend shake his head in amazement. He slid back onto my knees, which seemed wider than a bed to him, and started stroking my relaxed biceps with his hand. It was like he was studying the thing to see how it worked – why it was so huge – and how it was able to do such astounding things. I glanced down at my own arm and tried to see it through his eyes. Again, I was really just used to being big. I didn’t really even think about it most of the time. Huge muscles were natural. Being considered a giant was just part of life. But then I got the wonderful opportunity to meet someone like Norman Michaels and he enabled me to see myself in new and exciting ways. He helped me to desire my hugeness and my strength even more – simply because it turned him on so much. Now I constantly looked for ways to emphasize my enormous body or show off my strength. I did it almost without thinking about it – merely because I wanted him to be happy. “It’s funny, Little Prince. That dumbbell weighs a lot more than you. I’m curling, with just one hand, something heavier than your entire body.” He knew I was talking like this just to turn him on more than he already was. He smiled, without taking his gaze away from my huge biceps that he stroked so lovingly. Most of the time, I was fully aware of how he could easily get me to talking about myself – my size or my power. I would have done it no matter what – simply because I knew it excited him – but having him lead me into it was much more fun. We could make each other hard in no time at all – most of the time without even touching each other. His hand tried to push in the hard meat of my bulging biceps. The thing didn’t give even the slightest bit. He let out a loving, lustful sigh and then looked up at me. “Time for a second round of twenty reps, big man – and we both can pretend it’s my body you’re curling.” I never knew lifting would turn into such a sexual stimulus for me. I had certainly gotten my share of hard-ons while pressing some insane amount of weight up into the air, but this was something totally different. I now knew every lift – every strain against some weight – was fuel for my lover’s hard-on – and that made working out so much more pleasurable for me. I now wanted to add inches to my arms, my chest, my thighs, and all over just because I knew it would make my Little Prince happy. Now, I never grudgingly went to the gym – as in times before. I viewed a workout as a time to make my man constantly happy – whether he was there to feel the rewards immediately or if he’d get to grope them later on. My size and my strength now had a new purpose – and I had inspiration galore for workouts. I reached down and grabbed the dumbbell on either side of the bench – loving the fact that the thing that the Professor could barely move so easily came up into the air because of my tremendous strength. I looked at the gorgeous man in front of me and smiled. He knew how easy it was for me to lift the dumbbell and he also knew my grin was from the fact that his mouth dropped open wide when I swung the thing into the air with perfect form. I tensed the biceps harder than before when I reached the top of the lift – making the mound even harder and bigger, just to tease the Professor more. “We could put a weight-belt on you, Little Prince, and I could curl your body for real. We wouldn’t have to imagine it.” “You know I don’t give your arms enough resistance for a good workout. Let’s stick to the small mountains you’re curling right now. We both want you to grow, remember?” “How could I forget – pleasing you is what I live for. And I know me getting bigger will make you very happy. Still, you tend to shoot off quicker than a firecracker if I curl you with one hand – it could bring both of us immense pleasure so quickly.” “You know I like it when we prolong our release. Let’s keep edging for a long time.” “As you wish, my Little Prince.” He placed his hands on my arms as I lifted. This time he simply wanted to feel the slabs of beef get hard and relax with he movements up and down. He was entranced at how huge they became when I lifted. Nothing could make my Little Prince bust a nut more than my humongous arms. He was clearly a biceps man and wasn’t afraid to admit it. He said it was the way the giant things looked in stretched out polo sleeves. He said it was because arms were so clearly connected to power. He said it was because a big man like me couldn’t hide those mountains even if I wanted to. He said it was because I could make them harder than anything he had ever felt. He said it was because when I wrapped him in them as we slept he never felt more safe and secure. He also said it was because I loved flexing them. I told him I flexed them so much because I knew he liked it. He would always laugh and call it the circle of muscle life. When I finished that set of reps, I flexed my arms again for his pleasure after returning the dumbbells to the floor. I could see – reflected in his gaze – that my arms were now bigger than before we started lifting. We both had wet stains at our crotches just thinking about my muscles growing – him because he love the idea and me because it pleased him so much. “Do you ever get tired of posing?” “The day you tire of it, Little Prince, is when I’ll get tied of it.” “That’s never going to happen.” “There’s the answer to your question, then. I flex to keep you hard.” “It works.” Weeks of loving this gorgeous Prince had changed me. I had matured in some way. I had moved from being a giant, heavily muscled scattered teenager to becoming a man assured of his power and confidence. He made me strong and sure. I had never been surer of anything as I was about my love for him. He pushed me into adulthood – not by force or coercion – but simply because I wanted, no I needed, to take care of him. We became equals – not in size or strength – but in our respect for each other and our desire to be there for each other. My parents had never batted an eye about the fact that I liked boys – they just wanted me to be happy. The first time I visited them with the Professor my father took me on a long walk outside and lectured me about how it was a man’s responsibility – especially a man as big as I was – to care for those they loved, to be there for them no matter what. I was confused at first, but then it dawned on me that my parents completely understood how much I adored this man. My father was giving his giant son the same talk a father might give his son on his wedding day. This revelation made my eyes well up with tears. I hugged my father strongly – maybe a little too strongly, since he let out a little yell - and then thanked him for understanding. When we returned home I found that my mother had arranged a bunch of family heirlooms in order for the Professor and I to take them when we left. Driving home, my Little Prince said I came with a handsome dowry. I flexed my arm and told him that my body was really the only dowry he cared about and he quickly agreed. He then pulled the car over to the side of the road, though, and turned to me. “I’ll love you forever, my Gentle Giant. However, I want you to know that I love what’s inside your heart much more than all the humongous muscles around it. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get turned on by your size and your strength – or that I wasn’t constantly hard when you go shirtless, but know that even if you lost all of your hugeness, I would still continue to love you. I’ve never loved anyone this way.” I reached over, grabbed the back of his neck with my hand – briefly noticing how much bigger it was than his entire head – and pulled him in for a long, hot-enough-to-steam-up-the-windows, kiss. That was my answer and he accepted it as gospel truth. He knew my love – without me even saying it. Just as I knew how much he loved me. I smiled at him after the kiss – it was a slightly sinister smile. He detected I was thinking something – something a little mischievous. “What?” “How about we get out of the car and you lay on the ground like the tire needs changing. I’ll pick up the back of the thing just to freak out people that are passing by.” He smiled at my idea. I could tell he liked the way I thought. He opened his door and I did the same. A few minutes later he was kneeling on the ground by the tire as I lifted the back of the car up and down. We were shocked at how many cars stopped to stare at me and by how many people honked their horns in appreciation of my strength. The Professor was worried that my little show was going to cause an accident – mainly because someone couldn’t help but staring – so we got back in the car and drove home. Starting that day we assumed specific roles in our relationship. I was the one that opened jars with stubborn tops. I was the one that lifted him to get things from the top shelves in closets. I was the one that went to our new neighbor to ask him to turn down his music, which could be heard five blocks away. The Professor insisted that I go to visit him without my shirt on, which proved to be very effective. Not only did the guy turn down his music, he gave us a bunch of fruit, candy, and more items before I left his house. I think I left a lasting impression. We never heard loud music again. On the flip side, the Professor paid all bills, even though I brought in money from odd jobs and some strongmen competitions. My Little Prince insisted on me going to school and said there was no need for me to make money, but secretly I knew he loved coming to watch me in strength shows. I never lost. Once again we were back in the room with me lifting the heavy dumbbells as he watched with awe. His hands were still lovingly feeling my biceps as I relaxed between sets. “I will always be in awe of your size and strength.” “I hope so.” “You don’t have to worry about that. Maybe you’ll tire of me sooner.” “That will not happen, my Little Prince. I promise you. I’ll tire of breathing air before I tire of you.” I grabbed the sides his shoulders and squeezed tight enough so that his ass came off my legs as I lifted him to my lips for a kiss. Every time I lifted weights I said I needed multiple kisses for inspiration – to keep me going. He liked playing my game and would kiss me, imagining I would lose my strength if he didn’t keep me going. It was kind of like Samson with his long hair. After a few seconds of a delicious round of tongue wrestling, I stood him on the floor and then grabbed the weights below me - to re-rack them and grab some heavier ones. It was time to start the real workout. To say the little guy’s face lit up when I grabbed the bigger dumbbells would be an understatement. I brought the huge things back over to the bench and it looked like I carried two engines from eighteen-wheelers in my hands. When I set them on the floor the room seemed to shake. I reached out to grab my little muse by the waist, lifted him in the air, waited for him to part his legs, and then placed him back on my lap. “Now for the little ones, my Prince. Care to hold one?” “Not unless you want to see me fall through the floor. Those things look like they weigh as much as a tank.” He said this every time – mainly because he knew it thrilled me. He licked his lips with anticipation, knowing that these particular mega dumbbells would make my arms swell up so big it would look like I was flexing even with my arms dangling at my sides. I loved not knowing how much the things weighed. I certainly felt these huge things – especially on the third and fourth sets. They did the job of tearing down my muscles and rebuilding them even better than curling the BMW did. I also loved watching the utter disbelief in my little lover’s face as I lifted what he called the tanks. I went into some kind of power trance when I lifted these big things. It was the only way I could complete the workout. That, and having my Little Prince fondling my arms as I lifted – and then kissing me between the sets – which definitely helped, as well. “Boom! Boom!” My deep voice rang out loudly, as I brought my arms up in a slow, smooth, perfectly performed lift. It helped to emphasize each curl when I hit the top. It also thrilled the little guy to no end. I continued to let my bass-like growl echo throughout the room as I lifted and as my Little Prince ran tiny hands up along my bulging biceps. He had learned to be careful and not get his fingers in the crook of my arms as I bent them upwards – having nearly gotten four broken fingers that first time. The poor guy was on sexual overload as he watched me – not sure whether to look at the humongous weights – the even larger bulges – or at my determined face, now covered in sweat. He knew I was working hard, and that made him even harder. By the time I finished my first set of ten he was beginning to sweat a little, too. The sexual tension between us was now at a super high level. “Those things seem to be going up and down way too easy, now. It might be time to go up another level.” We both looked over at the two larger dumbbells that were so huge they rested on a rack by themselves. It looked like two city blocks sticking out on either side of thick rods. The Professor waited impatiently for the day I would finally start curling those big things. I thing he longed for it because it would mean I had reached a new level of strength – or maybe he just wanted to see how massive my guns would swell after swinging the giant contraptions up and down. Either way, he longed for the day when he’d get to sit in my lap and feel the hardness they’d cause. I secretly looked forward to that day as well. “I think I have a little more time with the tanks, Little Prince. I like that I make it look easy, but – trust me – these big things are still giving me a lot of resistance. I think you’re just hoping that when I do finally lift those big honking things over there you’ll get to ride on one of them like a carnival ride.” The idea made his face light up with excitement. I was amazed he hadn’t thought about that before. Usually, he was the one that loved coming up with ideas for me to show off my strength. One time, he suggested we go down to a bar he heard about – in a rough part of town – that had arm wrestling contests every week. It was a biker bar that had every kind of rough looking criminal you’d ever seen in films. And they came in all sizes and ages. When this kid walked in – albeit, a hulking large kid – everyone assumed he’d be a pushover. That is, until I put my arm on the table, pulled up my tight shirtsleeve, and flexed a gun that was almost twice the size of anyone else in the room. Still, the reigning champion stayed cocky – not even after I knocked out every other competitor without as much as a slight challenge. It took me less than fifteen minutes to make my way through the elaborate bracket system they set up for the competition. Everyone said it was the fastest night ever – and I think they found it a little disappointing. By the time I took on the champion I had only one fan in the bar and that was my Little Prince. He just sat there; drinking bottled water and watching the cocky champion pump up the audience by saying how much he was going to love putting the young runt in his place. I stood up beside him – just so he’d get a better idea of my real size. He had to tilt his head back to look up into my face. I watched as he swallowed hard – losing a little of his confidence. When I sat back down and he did the same, I loved how the crowd around us gasped as we both put our bent arms on the table. My biceps looked like a boulder beside a pebble compared to his. He noticed the size difference, too. I glanced at the Professor before we started and I could tell he loved the show even more than he had anticipated. When the so-called ‘ref’ told us to go I smiled devilishly when the champion immediately started pushing against my arm – anticipating it would move – and it didn’t budge an inch. I held it there while I stared into the champion’s eyes. He was struggling so much that sweat was already forming on his forehead. I looked at him and spoke as if I wasn’t doing a thing. “Any time you want to start, champ, I’m ready.” The big man knew I was preventing his hand from moving mine even a slight bit and he could tell I wasn’t even using a fourth of my strength. I squeezed his hand tightly and loved how he squirmed from the pain. I finally just started pushing – nice and slow – watching his face go from astonishment to shock to embarrassment when the so called ‘young runt’ tapped his hand lightly on the table. I hadn’t even broke a sweat and was breathing normal, while the champ was gasping for breath and shaking out his hand. It was quite clear that the defeated champion did not like losing. His face turned redder than it had been before and he suddenly started cussing at me and swearing that I had cheated in some way. Before I knew it, he was throwing a punch towards my face. Luckily, my reflexes are as fast as I am big and I caught his fist about six inches from my face. I immediately started compressing my fingers around his. The big man let out a loud cry of pain and his knees buckled. I simply squeezed harder and pushed his hand downward until he fell to his knees. I wasn’t going to break any bones, but I wanted him to know that my strength was real. I leaned down so my face was near his. “Feel my power, champ. Does it seem fake to you in any way? I just beat you fair and square. And you know the really fun part – I didn’t even use a fraction of my true strength. I may be only nineteen, but I’m about twice your size and maybe three times as strong as you. Here, let me show you.” I let go of his hand and then reached down and grabbled the blue jean jacket with cut off sleeves he wore to show off his arms. With no effort at all I lifted him off the floor and into the air. The guy just went soaring off the ground as if he weighed nothing. I bent a little backwards so I could look up at his face while his feet dangled in the air. I suddenly had a memory of Brett Roberts, the bully in junior high. The crowd broke out into a loud cheer as soon as I lifted the big ex-champion above my head. Everyone there obviously always wanted to be on the side of the reigning alpha and I was clearly the biggest and strongest one in the place. I walked around a little – just to show the creep in my hands how easy it was for me to hold him off the floor. I glanced over to my Little Prince and could see that he was still really enjoying the show. I saw the now familiar bulge in his pants – he was clearly turned on by my display of strength. I finally put the guy back down on the ground, straightened out his jacket a little, and then patted him on his head. “Now be a good little boy and go buy the new champion a beer.” This made the entire place erupt in applause. To my amazement, the ex champion did exactly as I told him. He walked over to the bar, accepting some slaps on his back as gestures of condolence, and then ordered two beers. When he returned he offered me one and then held his up in a motion of ‘cheers.’ We brought the bottles together and then both took a big swig. He looked up into my eyes as he spoke. “No one’s ever picked me up off the ground before.” “Did you like it?” “Yeah . . . yeah, I did. You’re one huge strong fucker, son.” “You have no idea.” I saw the Professor motioning that it was time to go, so I swallowed the rest of my beer in one long gulp, handed the bottle to the ex champ, thanked him and then left. Once we were outside my Little Prince came up behind me and jumped up on my back, making me carry him to the car. He had his arms around my neck and his legs wrapped around my waist – and we both noticed how my huge body hid all of his behind me. It looked like I simply had something draped around me. He brought his face up beside my right ear. “That was so hot. You could have taken on four guys at one time, couldn’t you? That would have been so great to watch. And then when you lifted that guy off the floor. Man, I could have busted a load right there and then.” “You, my Little Prince, are turning into such a strength whore.” “In your very own words, my Gentle Giant, you have no idea.” Again, those memories faded away and I was back in the room with the Professor and we were lifting weights. I started my next set of reps with the tanks. This time, my little lover moaned as he stroked my bending arms – and I knew he was beginning to get more excited by how freaking hard my biceps were turning. The new layers of muscle, burned into place by the lifting, just seemed to be something akin to marble to him. I loved watching him focus on my body. He could be transfixed for hours – as if he were studying me for some art project. I was beginning to think he knew my body better than I did. He certainly explored it a lot more. The sight of his small-looking hands against my triceps, my pecs, my thighs, or some other huge part of my body no longer surprised me. The more I saw the Professor around other men and realized that he was what most people would call normal size the more I saw myself through his eyes – as the giant he loved to gaze at. If I had thought my love for the man would wane after some time I would have been sadly mistaken. It only seemed to increase with each passing day. My desire for him seemed to grow to match my size . . . my strength. It was hard for me to be without him for even the few hours he would go to teach class or to meet with students. I still had my studies, but even then, when I was in the library doing research or out with friends my thoughts would also turn to him. I would begin missing him terribly – the feel of his small body next to mine. I finished my reps and my voice shook him from his muscle trance. “Time for some standing barbell curls, Little Prince.” The small man slid off my legs and immediately moved to the heavy-laden barbell at the end of a neighboring bench. He waited for me to lift the monstrous thing from its resting place – marveling at how I easily lifted something he would not have been able to budge, even using his feet to try and make it roll while it was sitting on the floor. I turned toward him and then held the bar level with my mid-section, my arms bent at the elbows. The small man immediately rested his arms on the middle part of the bar – between my hands and then laid his chest on them. He got comfortable, nudging his body so it rested on top of the bar, and then lifted his feet. The bar didn’t dip or move at all. I held the thing still, even with the added weight of the Professor. I then started curling the bar upward – nice and slow. When the bar and my lover reached the top of the pump and the bar was just under my chin, he’d lean forward a little and kiss me. This happened on all twenty lifts – him counting the reps and me counting the kisses. On rep number twenty I held the bar in place when it was at the top and I looked at him lovingly after the kiss. “You make working out much more fun than it would normally be. Getting bigger and stronger has never been so exciting.” “I like inspiring you.” “And you do it so well, Little Prince.” “What did you do while I was teaching classes today?” “Thought about you and stayed hard all day.” “Funny, I did the same thing. There’s a football player that might be developing a crush on me, big guy. You might need to come by one day when he’s at my office and make it clear I’m off limits.” “And how would I do that?” “Wear that near-to-tearing tank top because it’s-now-too-small that you like so much and then give this old man a deep kiss in front of him.” “You think he’d get the point.” “If not, you could just pick him up with one hand and explain it to him.” “Are you making all of this up just to get me to wear your favorite shirt and lift some guy off the ground.” “Maybe . . . but you’ll just have to find out.” I was still holding the bar and the Professor up in the air. We were both so used to me lifting him or carrying him that we could have normal relationship conversations while it happened. Sometimes, we’d both forget that I held him over my head or out to my side with one hand. He simply became part of my workout routine – one of my barbells or dumbbells. And he loved it that way. I lowered the bar and we both took a break. My workout continued for a couple of hours, with him holding on to bars while I did other exercises to blast my biceps, triceps, an forearms. He stayed focused on my body the entire time – noting for me where I’d gotten bigger or harder. He didn’t let one part of my body being worked out go uninspected. He knew I loved his attention – his desire – his need for my body. When we were finished and before he went to the kitchen to start preparing dinner, he stared up at me after I had wiped down benches and re-racked weights. His face had that pleading look I had come to know so well. I knew he was desperate for release – just as I was. Our workouts together always left us with raging hard-ons. We had been separated this day for about seven hours – the longest we ever liked to go without seeing each other, so I knew I’d give in and help us both with our raging problems. I walked over to him without saying a word. I squatted a little and wrapped my still bulging arms – pumped beyond belief from the workout – around his little body and squeezed tightly as I lifted him off the ground. Just like that first time – the evening when we had moved him into this house – we both blasted out a love load for the other. My bear hug was just too much for him and feeling his small body that close to mine – being that intimate – was just too much for both of us. I held him off the ground in my arms until we both stopped convulsing. I put him back on the ground and he walked a little unsteadily out of the room – a big smile on his face as he daydreamed about my muscle. I was unsteady on my feet, as well, and had to sit down on a bench to recover. We would both go through the night with sticky crotches – loving how later on we would scrub each other clean - either in the giant tub or the massive shower in the master bathroom. Both of us were joyously happy that we could call this a normal night. The big man was lost in thought – clearly moved by the memory of his lover as he told Adonis this story in the bar. The smaller man rested his free hand on the giant one that was interlocked with the fingers of his other – stroking it slowly and letting the silence nurture both of them for a few minutes. Adonis was intensely aware of how fortunate he was to be given the gift of this incredible love story. He waited for the eyes of Atlas to become less cloudy with budding tears and then spoke. “You don’t have to tell me any more stories, big man. I’m sorry if this is too much for you.” “No, no. It’s fine. It actually helps. I like sharing good memories like this – especially with you. I have a feeling you and the Professor have a lot in common.” “I think so, too.”
  5. Too Big - Part Seven

    Waiting for him to lean in felt like when you’re binge watching a mini-series on Netflix and it takes about twenty episodes before the two romantic leads kiss. By the time you get to that point you’ve so built up the moment that you almost regret that it has happened. I wanted the Professor to kiss me with his plump luscious lips more than I wanted air, itself, but I also knew that once he did, some of the magic – the anticipation – would disappear forever. I think he felt the same way. He did, however, pull his body closer to mine and brought his face inches away. He paused briefly – gazing into my eyes with the kind of look that was so hot it could melt all of Antarctica. He gently gave me a peck on my lips – lightly, but full of tender passion. I knew he was teasing me and I let it happen. I had teased him with my body for weeks. It was his turn. I could easily give up control. He ran his tongue over his lips – to moisten them a little and to make my ‘rekton’ jump a little. A second peck brushed against my lips – this time it was a tad harder and I felt him suck in a little, taking air from my mouth. His lips tasted divine. I swallowed hard, never taking my eyes from his. The Professor moved his face to the side of mine and kissed the part of my cheek nearest my ear and then he whispered. “Your muscles feel like continents. I swear one of your arms is North America and the other is South America. I can feel the power of all five oceans pulsing through your body. Watching you lift my car made my toes curl up so much that I got cramps in every part of my legs. Feeling you lift me overhead without even a smidgen of effort made my balls churn out double the juice they normally do. You are the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. Only nineteen years old and bigger than any other human I’ve ever met or seen. I want to be yours completely. I want you to be mine completely. I’ll worship you every day from sunrise to sunset and beyond. My adoration will never cease.” He moved his face back so it was in front of mine, again. He then slowly smashed his lips into mine. The kiss was one of the most powerful things I had ever felt. The Professor’s body might not have been very powerful, but his kiss made up for it. I felt my knees actually wobble. It was a new feeling for me – some form of weakness. Sometimes, when I lifted heavy, heavy weights for hours on end I could become so tired that when I walked my legs felt like jelly, but this was something different. This was me actually feeling vulnerable. This was me submitting myself to someone else. And it was such a new sensation. I was the one that was powerless – for the first time ever. My hugeness still registered in my head – especially next to the smallness of my Little Prince, but I definitely felt defenseless against his kiss. His lips had some kind of spell over me and as his mouth ravaged mine, I became more entrapped by his magic – his personhood. I could easily lift the little man with one hand – with one hand! But his kiss, his kryptonite-like kiss, made me feel weak – and fully human at the same time. My engorged cock was so alert – so super charged – that it pressed into his butt cheeks menacingly – even through his trousers and mine. The steel-like hardness of my tip must have made it hard for the Professor to concentrate – he pulled his face back and my lips moved forward, immediately missing his and wanting to follow. He had a nervous look on his face. “My god, do you have a titanium baseball bat down there?” “Something like that . . . only bigger.” “And harder! It feels like a girder that could hold up a skyscraper.” “It’s all because of your kiss.” “Is that so? Aw, my gentle giant is a bit romantic?” “When it comes to you, you have no idea.” “I think that huge thing poking my ass gives me a pretty clear indication!” This time, I reached up with one of my enormous hands – while the other continued to hold him in place – and pushed on his back until his face and lips met mine again. This kiss was even more savage than the one before. It was like we were both trying to crawl into each other’s bodies. My cock started to ache because of its hardness. My legs became even wobblier and I was teetering on crumbling to my knees. Professor Michaels sensed what was happening. Earlier, he had been lucid enough to have us set up the bed and make it before we returned the moving truck. He pulled his lips from mine – only about a half an inch. “Bedroom.” I didn’t need to be told twice. The thought of what was coming made all of the tremendous strength return quickly to my body. I could be strong in an instant if my Little Prince ordered it. I started walking toward the master bedroom in the back of the house. His lips were already back against mine and his tongue was joyously abusing my mouth. When I stood just in front of the bed, the Professor unwrapped his legs, kicked off his shoes, and then stood on the edge of the piece of furniture. His lips had still not left mine. With him standing on the bed we were conveniently at the same height. My body, however, still dwarfed his. My curiosity had now gotten the best of me. I wanted to see and feel his tight little body more than anything. I reached up, grabbed the front of his button down and pulled. With no effort at all I ripped the entire thing off of his body with one quick tug. His shirt ripped in two and both pieces dangled from my hands. The Professor moaned lustfully out of the sides of his mouth as he continued to dominate me with his kiss. I dropped the remnants of his shirt and my big hands immediately started groping his well-chiseled small chest, his swimmer’s shoulders, his cute tight abs and his impressively knotty arms. My Little Prince was put together nicely. I didn’t think it was possible, but I actually became more excited as I groped his upper body. It was my time to speak, in spite of not breaking the kiss. “God, you’re beautiful!” I wrapped my hands around him – letting my open palms press against his shoulder blades. I hugged him tightly and pulled away from the bed. His legs dangled in the air as I easily held him against my massive body – still kissing as if our lives depended on air we received from the other. The Professor’s hardness pressed into my abs and I privately rejoiced at how I could make him feel like concrete. His granite cock was my fuel – the only compliment I needed to keep on giving to him – serving him. I was HIS giant and I wanted him to always know it. I had never known such need. I had never wanted someone so much. I had never desired to protect someone with all my strength – all my abilities. I allowed his kiss to take me to sexual heights I had never even fathomed. Every fiber of my body was alert and excited by how this man’s lips controlled me. I might have been holding the small man a few feet from the ground – and not even feeling the slightest strain in my arms, but he was the one that was leading the kiss – he was the one that determined how we would move forward. He was my Little Prince and I was his adoring subject. It was only then that I realized his hands had latched on to my jutting nipples and his fingers were twisting them like there was no tomorrow. I didn’t register pain, however – I only felt pleasure. I moaned out loud even while my mouth was still locked with his. This only encouraged him to twist and pull even harder. I was a time bomb getting ready to explode. I hugged him tighter and I could tell it made him edge closer to cumming than anything else I could have done. Professor Michaels felt the strength in my arms and it thrilled him even more than when I lifted the front of his car. This was strength he could feel – like when I was lifting him overhead. He, like me, loved it when our bodies touched and I did some feat of strength. That made it more real – more personal. Him being turned on more only caused the same in me! “Squeeze harder. Squeeze until I cum.” Having him encourage me to be stronger – to show off even more – was like the final drop of rain that hits a lake and makes the dam burst. I was making my arms bulge massive around his body – even though I was only applying slight pressure on his body, well, slight for me. I had inhaled deeply, while kissing, just to make my chest swell up to an even more impressive size. My Little Prince was surrounded by hard muscle and he was kissing his giant with so much appreciation that there was little more he could have done to make me happy. Meanwhile, the twisting of my now aching nubs was making me go into overdrive. And then he asked me to hug him tighter. It was like the best Christmas present ever. It was like getting to taste all ninety-nine flavors in an ice cream shop at the same time. It was definitely my best moment ever. “I don’t want to hurt you.” “You won’t! I bet we both cum before you can do any damage. Come on, show me what you’ve got in those big guns, my Gentle Giant.” I couldn’t have made my arms disobey the Little Prince even if I had wanted to. His wish was my command. He wanted to feel my strength – hell, I think he wanted to blur the line between his body and my strength by having me hug him so tightly we became one. He was everything I dreamed of in a little worshipper. He longed for my muscles as much as I longed for him. Years of lifting, hours upon hours in the gym, and thousands of one-night-stands with little fellas had prepared me for this moment. It seemed that every bit of iron I ever raised, every huge muscle I sculpted, and every ounce of meat I packed onto this body had been for Professor Norman Michaels. I knew the upcoming explosion from both of us was going to be so momentous that I seriously doubted we’d ever ejaculate that powerfully again. We had spent the last few months preparing for this moment – for that exact second when we would come together as one and shoot simultaneously simply because he wanted to feel my strength and I wanted to offer it to him gladly. I had never felt so powerful in all my life. I momentarily thought of ripping redwoods from the ground, punching buildings to mere rubble with one hit, taking on a hundred men with ease, and ripping apart a tank with my bare hands. I wanted to take on the Hulk for my Little Prince and I knew I would win. The moment my bulging muscles started squeezing the little guy I knew both the Professor’s and my juices started boiling within us. There was no turning back now. I could not have stopped the impending simultaneous tsunamis even if I had wanted to. I knew my body would wait for the Professor. He was in charge – he was the leader. I was going to supply the power that sent us both over the edge, but his body was going to signal to mine when to release and I knew I wouldn’t do a damn thing unless he allowed it. I could hear him breathing so heavily I was scared he was going to pass out. I hesitated for a moment and he yelled out. “Don’t you dare stop, young man!” My arms reacted immediately and started squeezing even harder. I had tensed everything so hard I felt like a Macy’s Day Parade float – massive beyond all comprehension. My Little Prince was almost totally covered up by my bulk. We continued to kiss hard and my arms hugged him even tighter. His body felt even more tiny than ever – lighter than ever. It was almost like I wasn’t even hugging something. I pulled my arms in more – pressing the little guy’s body harder into my bulging mass. My heart was beating so loud I could hear nothing else. I felt his hands twist my nipples harder than ever – but it barely registered at all. My body felt absolutely nothing but the anticipation of pleasure. I was the eagle about to fall from the mountaintop into a beautiful soaring dive that would send me skyward to pure ecstasy. I was the surfer about to catch the biggest wave ever – and not caring if it ended up taking me under – the thrill of the ride would be worth it. I could feel that the Professor felt the same way. “Harder!” For a brief moment my arms did what they were told – and squeezed tighter than they had ever held a human before. My body knew the body of my Little Prince so well that it would never cause him pain. It merely compressed him near my full strength for mere seconds. Every fiber of me knew what he could withstand. His body knew it, too. For maybe four to five seconds all sound stopped – all sensation stopped – all touch with reality stopped – and then the fire hydrants were untapped. The simultaneous explosions could not have been planned better. Our bodies had become so entwined – so knowledgeable of the other – that they joyously ejaculated at the exact same mille-second. I worried that my first shot of cum had literally ripped a hole in my pants and underwear. It felt like my cock was a rocket launcher that had sent something so powerful that nothing could have stood in its way. I felt the Professor’s crotch slamming into my stone-like abs and it actually stung a little. I had withstood hundreds of punches from little guys – not feeling a thing – but his bucking body, set off by his massive orgasm, slammed into my body enough for me to feel it. Amazingly we both continued to kiss throughout the whole ordeal. Our bodies seemed to empty loads big enough to fill a reservoir. My head started to spin toward the end and I knew I would either pass out or fall over. The Professor’s slight weight proved to be a benefit, because I fell forward, allowing his body to move to the side so we both hit the bed at the same time. Our crotches, however, were not finished spewing and we both continued to rock the bed for a few minutes. I was shocked to notice that my crotch jolts stopped sooner than his. But at the same time, that thrilled me and caused my cock to crank out a few more drops. I’d heard of people being spent after orgasms, but until that moment I had never fully understood it. Within one minute both of us were sound asleep, but not until he had rolled over onto my arm and I had pulled his small body on top of my huge one. Atlas looked down at Adonis – standing by the bar with his mouth open wide and his eyes full of excitement. The big man hadn’t planned on his story being so long, but memories had carried him away. He also sensed a very romantic side to his new little friend and figured this particular story would thrill Adonis to no end. His hunch had been right. When the big man finally took a swig of his beer, the smaller man followed suit and downed his vodka tonic. He then looked up into the face of the giant standing before him. “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard! But why in the hell are you here, now, Atlas. You should be home with your gorgeous Little Prince. I can’t believe he let you out of his sight for even a few seconds. I can’t believe you’re not lifting him in the air at this very moment.” “Unfortunately, even though I’m very strong and extremely huge, there are some things even I can’t do. One early morning, a drunk driver – a young kid coming home from a rave party – swerved off the road and hit my Little Prince as he rode his bike for exercise. Fortunately, Professor Norman Michaels died instantly. He didn’t suffer.” “No, but you did. I can tell by the tears in the corner of your eyes. I am so sorry.” “Don’t be, my good friend. It was a very long time ago and I had six great years with my Little Prince. Besides, if he were still here, I wouldn’t have met you.”
  6. Too Big - Part Six

    “I’d like you to curl me a few times before you lift me overhead. And please hold me at my chest and crotch – your big hand against my cock will give me even more gratification. I’d also like to see your bulging arms when I’m lifted higher.” “As you wish, sire. You have no idea how much this will please me, too.” “I hope so.” I bent my arms and held out my hands – palms upward. He lay across them and I tightened my grip on his shirt and his still-sticky crotch. I pressed my hand against his hard cock – loving how it twitched at my touch. Like the night in his office when I carried him to the sofa, I marveled at how light he was. I was lifting a grown man – one who was considerably older than me – with the ease with which most men lifted a folded shirt. I knew my own body seemed to weigh something closer to the BMW than it did to this little man. I bounced his body lightly in my palms, knowing full well I was simply teasing the Professor – showing him how he weighed nothing. The hardening of his cock - even more - told me he loved my little display. I suddenly remembered my earlier thoughts about baby birds and kittens feeling so fragile in your grasp. Again, I was in amazement at how I knew I could easily crush or break the body I held, but I also knew I would never harm a hair on his head. I was the protector of the Little Prince. I was his genie, his giant, his wish-granter. I desired only to serve his every need. He had asked to be curled and that’s exactly what he would receive. “Ready, my Little Prince?” “Yes, my Gentle Giant.” I could remember the first day I ever lifted a barbell from my dad’s old weight set. I also remembered the day – not long after – when I had loaded the bar with every weight my dad owned and lifted it with ease. I remembered the day I lifted Brett Roberts off the ground in junior high and then lifted Jimmy Shaw. Every time I had lifted some guy or something really heavy suddenly flashed through my mind. I knew those memories came crashing in because they were about to be stripped of their importance in my brain. When I lifted Professor Michaels into the air – when I curled his little body so easily – that would be the fodder for all of my beat-off sessions and all my sexual fantasies for a very long time, if not forever. I wanted this man more than I wanted anything else in the world. Having him shivering with anticipation and excitement in my hands made me weak in the knees. I was not sure I would be able to lift him without shooting off like a rocket for the second time in the last hour. I knew, no mater what happened, however, even if I ejaculated powerfully or became dizzy from the thrill of lifting him – I would continue to curl and press him in the air until he asked me to stop. I wanted to make him completely happy and nothing was going to prevent that from happening. I was his wish come true – just as he was mine. “Why don’t you count, Little Prince?” I held on to the guy – letting my big hands grip his small hard chest and his equally hard crotch – as I easily brought his body up even with my nipples. I let his back press into my big firm pecs just to give him an extra thrill. I squeezed his body against me – increasing the pressure just to show off my strength. I then lowered him slowly – making it quite clear that his weight was nothing to my powerful arms. He whispered ‘one’ when my arms were parallel to the ground. His voice shook as much as his body did. The little guy was in seventh heaven – unable to contain his excitement or his desire. I had a funny feeling he was oozing pre-cum like a tube of toothpaste being jumped on. I curled his body upward, again. I squeezed his body harder into my pecs and made sure his tight ass was flattened against my stone-like chest. When I lowered him he again whispered, this time the number ‘two’ and his voice cracked like he was going through a second puberty. I realized I could curl his tight cute little body all day long. I was pretty sure he would let me, too. I lowered him, listening to his quaking ‘three’ and then I raised my arms, along with his weightless body again into the air. This time I brought my head down and took a teasing bite at his lovely curved and bubbly-as-hell ass. My Little Prince let out a gasp and then a giggle – making it clear that he appreciated the gesture. It continued this way until we reached one hundred curls. I was sure the Professor might get sick from the motion, but that didn’t happen. Not only did I not get tired; but also the Little Prince never lost count or stopped quivering whenever I curled him. I was so into the routine, that I was caught off guard when he finally said more than just a number. “Military presses, now, big man. Please.” It was like the little guy knew that would make my cock spurt a little, which it did. He was lying securely in my palms, but I knew I wanted to do my lifts properly, so that created a need to adjust his body. Simply tossing his entire frame into the air solved the problem and while he soared above my head I turned my palms so my fingers stuck out towards my head and caught him as he started to descend. It was easier than flipping a pancake. I now held my Professor above my head, arms bent so my biceps bulged nicely for his viewing pleasure, and my big hands still gipping his chest and crotch. I waited for his head to stop spinning, since I knew tossing him so easily into the air would have made him a little loopy. I then slowly pressed my arms upward, making it perfectly clear that even after one hundred curls with his full weight it was easy as hell to lift him overhead. Curling the little man had clearly thrilled both of us, but it didn’t come close to the feeling that pressing his body overhead created. Maybe it was because of all the old Hercules films both of us had watched. Maybe it was the thirst for superheroes we both shared. Or maybe it was just because we both loved my strength so much. Whatever it was, it was perfectly clear that gorilla presses with the Professor’s body edged us close to release than anything. There’s no other way to say this – weak men don’t know what it’s like to lift another man over your head. And to do it easily is just added pleasure. I felt like I was simply raising my arms in a pose of victory or celebration. The fact that a man rested in my palms almost didn’t register at all. The fact that it was Professor Norman Michaels – the man of my dreams – was the only reason it registered at all. I kept my arms extended – his body high in the air. “Like the view, Little Prince?” There was no need to wait for a response. I knew the answer. I started slowly cranking out repetitions using the Professor as my barbell. My very light barbell. His body rose and fell in my grip like he was made of feathers. If I had anticipated a workout I would have been sorely disappointed, but building my muscles was not the goal of this particular exercise. This was only about pleasing my little man. The moans of pleasure, along with the look in his eyes when I would glance upward told me that I was succeeding in my mission. Again, I reached the hundredth lift before I heard the Professor speak. “Keep your arms extended at one hundred.” I did as he asked. I, again, marveled at the fact that I had lifted a guy one hundred times overhead and it barely registered to my biceps. My cute little Professor was so light. But, then again, every man I might have lifted would have been light. Especially compared to the heavy weights I lifted in the gym. I kept my arms extended with the small man high above my head – just as he had asked. I had a feeling he was memorizing how it felt so he could remember it for years to come. “Hello Mr. Mickel. Is he hurt you?” A voice behind us rang out in the silence. I turned around, still holding the Professor high above my head, to find a young boy of five or six sitting on a Big Wheels looking up at the two of us. I suddenly became aware of what it might look like – this huge young man holding another man in the air. I didn’t move an inch. I heard the Professor clear his voice and then speak. “Hello, Timothy. How are you? He’s my neighbors’ young son. No, he’s not hurting me. We’re playing.” “I’m fine. Is he a giant?” “Um . . . yes, yes he is. But he’s a friend of mine.” “Mr. Mickel, he very strong.” “Uh, yes. My friend is very strong.” “And big.” “Yes, very big.” “Does he have rekton? My father has rekton in the morning. He say he have rekton because mommy make him happy. My father rekton is little. The giant rekton is big.” The Professor laughed. It took me a few seconds to figure out what Timothy was talking about. Rekton was erection. He had noted the large stump-like bulge in the my pants. Clearly, his father had tried to educate him on what an erection was, but young Timothy was surprised by the size of the thing on me. It did not look similar to his father’s so he was confused. A normal man’s erect penis was definitely much smaller than what was outlined in my pants. It was definitely a difference that could cause much confusion. “Um, Timothy, everything is bigger on a giant, yes?” “He has big muskles.” “Yes, his muscles are very big.” “He is strong.” “Yes, he is very strong.” “I saw him pick up car.” It was clear that little Timothy had been watching us for a while. I wondered how many other neighbors had been watching us. I was suddenly conscious of the fact that I was still holding the Professor over my head. I’m sure, to Timothy, my size seemed enormous. Even more enormous than I seemed to older people. I was so unsure what to do I simply continued to hold my Little Prince above my head as he spoke to the young man. “Yes, Timothy, my friend picked up the front of my car. He’s very strong. But don’t worry, he’s very nice. I like him very much. “Are you boyfriends?” “Um, yes, yes we are.” “My mom says boys can like boys.” “Yes they can. Your mother is very smart.” “Okay, I go. Bye Mr. Mickel. Bu-bye Mr. Giant.” “Bye Timothy. It seems you now have an admirer that’s even smaller than me.” “We’ve probably put on a nice show for the entire neighborhood.” “I hadn’t thought about that. I was too busy enjoying the ride in your hands. I guess we should take our little party into he house, so we can be a little more intimate.” “Sounds like a wonderful plan. Keys, please.” I shifted the Professor’s body a little and held him with one hand – we both briefly acknowledged and loved how I could easily hold him in the air with just one arm. He reached into his pockets and took out a set of keys. He handed them to me with the door key between his thumb and forefinger. I unlocked the door and then lowered his body, still with just one arm, so we could maneuver through the frame. As we walked into the house I started doing one arm curls with my Little Prince just to rev him up some more. I shut the door and tossed the keys on a table nearby. I then shifted the Professor back onto two hands and, again, lifted him into the air. “I weigh nothing to you, don’t I?” “You are very light. I’ve been holding you for a while, so you’re beginning to register a little on my biceps, but you’re still as light as a feather.” “I never knew I’d like being lifted so much. It really turns me on.” “And that, Little Prince, turns me on.” “What does it feel like to be able to lift a grown man?” “I don’t really think about it until I lift someone who loves it. Knowing it pleases you makes it register more. It makes me want to show off. Bounce you in my hands a few times, pump out many reps quickly, toss you in the air and catch you – stuff like that. I feel the urge to do it just because it will excite you. And that, my good Professor, excites me.” “I think it’s time we were face to face.” Sweeter words had never been uttered. I loved holding him in the air, but I was ready for something more. I lowered my hand that held his crotch and then let it slide up to under his armpit. At the same time my other hand slid to the other one. I lowered his body until he was face to face with me. I brought my arms inward, which caused our bodies to touch. The Professor immediately wrapped his legs around my midsection and that released some of the weight in my arms. I took advantage of the situation and lowered my hands until they rested on his nice bubbled ass. He draped his arms around my neck. We stood there for a few minutes – just staring into each other’s eyes. “I can feel your ‘rekton,’ my gentle giant.” “You’re the reason it’s there, Little Prince. And I can feel yours, too.” Professor Michaels felt like a small young kid in my arms. Everywhere on my body that I bulged massively – he was thin, tiny, and wiry. It wasn’t that he was really that small – it was just that I was so freaking big. I loved the way his legs felt like only a belt wrapped around my waist. I loved how my hands held his ass and he weighed nothing at all to my arms. Having him this close to me was intoxicating. I wanted to squeeze him so hard he’d become part of me, but I knew I couldn’t do that. I would do permanent damage. I simply stood there, holding his small frame in my hands, and waited for him to make a move. The Professor, like me, was in no hurry. He was enjoying all of this foreplay just as much as I was. He, too, knew there’d be lots of time for a deeper connection later on. He wanted to enjoy the process as much as we would the ending. And having a few explosions on the way, would only make the finale even more spectacular. “I’m getting used to feeling so small – mainly because I get to enjoy how huge you are. I never knew I had a muscle fetish – until I met you. Your size excites me more than I’ve ever thought possible. I love staring at all of your giant bulges. I can’t get enough of you.” “I feel the same, Little Prince.”
  7. Too Big - Part Five

    During the short drive home I kept bouncing my pecs, rubbing my abs, and flexing my left arm just to distract my Little Prince and drive him crazy. When we got to his new house I signaled for him to leave the car running while we were parked in the nice air conditioning in his driveway. I lifted my left arm near him and flexed it hard. “I really need you to feel it, Little Prince.” “With pleasure.” I was really worried that when he tried to grope my mammoth peak with his little hands I was going to shoot off like a rocket. That’s how excited I was – that’s how much I needed him. The fragility of his small fingers – especially against the mound of my massive, hard-as-marble biceps was beyond being simply a turn-on. It was going to be better than getting an eight-hand massage for ten hours straight. It could only be compared to some incredible life force passing through his small hands into my body – empowering me tenfold. The smallness of his hands made me feel so much bigger – like a giant welcoming a mere mortal into his kingdom. My own fingers were three or four times thicker than those of my Little Prince and the width of my palm could wrap around his fist and have lots of room to spare. There was a cum-inducing charge that shot through both of us as soon as his fingers lightly struck against my hard skin. We both sucked in air and stopped breathing for a few seconds – commanding our bodies to not give into the need for release. It looked like the hands of a tiny child trying to grope a big basketball. The Little Prince tried to push in the muscle but nothing gave way to his pressing. My biceps was rock being brushed by a feather. He doubled his efforts, but to no avail. I tensed the ball of solid beef even more, just to show him it could get harder and bigger. He started gurgling like a baby as his hands traveled all around my flexed gun. “How can it be so hard?” “You make it that way, Little Prince.” The air conditioning in the car was on full blast, but it was still hot as hell – not from the sun, but from the energy the two of us were causing with our little groping session. Without any warning, Professor Michaels brought his delicate balled up fist smack into my bulging arm. There was a loud noise, but I felt almost nothing. My cock twitched closer to explosion when the small hand, again, banged into my mammoth mound. The Little Prince looked up into my eyes with a face that clearly asked if I felt a thing. I smiled and shook my head no, causing him even more joy. He punched a third time; clearly determined to, at least, make me feel it. Right before his fist hit my power-packed skin I tensed the biceps to its hardest and biggest. His meager attempt to make me feel something only caused my arm to bring his tiny fingers more pain and the sound to be much louder when the punch landed. I loved watching his face light up with excitement and deep desire as he continued to comprehend – on new levels – just how big and powerful I really was. This made me want to be a superman for the Little Prince. His amazement only fueled me on more – desperately wanting to please him in every way. “It’s like punching concrete.” “I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you.” “How can a kid be so big . . . so strong?” “Who you calling kid, little man? You might want to re-check the size of that arm bulging in front of you.” This comment made Professor Michaels actually quiver with excitement. It was like a small earthquake rippled through his entire body. Bringing attention to my own hulkiness clearly pleased him. I filed this away – knowing it would come in handy at a later time. “You ever lost in arm wrestling?” “Never. Not even when I took on three guys at one time.” Again, the shaking I now expected, shot through his entire body. He was trying to cup the dense peak of my biceps with both of his hands – and both of us noticing that his small palms couldn’t come close to covering it all. Damn, the frailty of the guy – and he wasn’t really that delicate – was such a huge turn on for me. He couldn’t squeeze one part of my hard peak. Nothing would give in at all to his weak hand – though he continued to try. I watched as my muscle withstood any attempt his hands made to compress any part. I was showing off just to please him – just to show him how much he meant to me. “When I’m next to you is when I’m happiest about being so big. It’s like all of these muscles are just for your pleasure, Little Prince.” His hands stopped moving for a few seconds and he looked into my eyes. It was one of those moments when no words were needed. We both understood the connection that was being made – it was otherworldly and something that could not be denied. The intensity of our growing bond was almost too much for both of us to handle. We simply knew it was best to take our time. For now, it was enough to just have him explore my biceps. There would be so much more groping, fondling, kissing, and much more later on – that was for sure – but for now, this was enough. “When you touch my muscle, Little Prince, what do you feel?” “Security. So much security. But that word doesn’t really come close to summing up everything I feel. I feel your size and power – and understand it fully. It’s like you’re an extension of me. I can feel your confidence – your knowledge that you’re everything I need . . . everything I desire. At the same time, I can feel how I urge you on even more. I make you feel so powerful. I make you happy to have such huge muscles. I make you want to show off your size and strength even more. I make you feel even more manly than you already are.” Gobs of pre-cum leaked generously from my hard cock as he spoke. The heat in the car, not to mention the stench of manliness and semen – increased tremendously. The Little Prince had summed up, perfectly, everything I was feeling. He did, indeed, fully understand what he did to me – how he controlled me. I was aware that the bond between us had increased even more profoundly in the mere seconds while he spoke. I was so stoked at that moment I felt like punching my fist through the roof of his car just to show him what I could do – just to make him desire me even more. He seemed to sense how I was feeling and that egged him on - to say other things. “Your body is radiating so much heat, big man, that you could probably produce enough warmth to take care of a small town in some cold area. You’ve been flexing your arm for so long and you don’t even realize it. The thing feels like stone – no, something harder than stone – and I somehow get the feeling it’s not even flexed to its fullest potential. My hands feel so insignificant beside your arm. I feel so powerless – so tiny.” “Have you always been into big men, Little Prince?” “No. You are the first. I can’t explain it. I walked into class on that first day and saw only you. You were like some giant mountain standing in the middle of a bunch of anthills. At first I saw the beauty of your face – the friendliness of your smile – but then all I saw was muscle . . . huge, hard muscle. I became an addict in mere seconds. I wasn’t ashamed to look for any chance to bring you to the front of the class to show off your body – comparing you to Greek sculptures, medieval paintings, and even modern art. Your body seemed tensed even when you were relaxed – everything still bulged majestically, powerfully. I found myself constantly thinking about you – doodling your name, drawing parts of your monstrous frame from memory, and writing secret love sonnets. Suddenly, huge muscles dominated my mind all the time – but it was only your huge body, not muscles in general. I felt smaller than I had ever felt in my entire life when I was around you – but I felt more powerful, manlier than ever before, too. You walked into my office for our teacher-student meeting and it was like an archangel, himself, was joining me. Your body was the most beautiful – and largest – sculpture I had ever seen. You also purposefully chose to wear the most revealing outfit – knowing fully how it would wreck me. And then you lifted that sealed window so easily – a window that couldn’t be opened even by burly men with tools. You had reached on either side of me – surrounding me with muscle, engulfing me with your beast-like scent – and I was gone. If I’m your Little Prince, then you must be my Gentle Giant.” We stared at each other for a few more seconds and then he brought his face forward to my still-flexed biceps. He pressed his sumptuous lips into the side of my hard muscle and immediately there were explosions in my eardrums, my chest, and my pants. I didn’t even realize I was ejaculating, at first. I was so enthralled by his words and by the sight of his gorgeous mouth kissing my arm that I didn’t even notice the hurricane-like convulsions in my lap. His entire head was smaller than my bulging arm – his entire head! I had lifted enough weight in my few years on this planet to pump my gun into a mound of muscle bigger than a man’s head. And the most beautiful man I had ever seen was now kissing my hard biceps like Romeo embracing Juliet before poisoning himself. The Little Prince let his tongue dart out and lap upward against my flexed peak – as if he were trying to taste and swallow some of my masculinity. My crotch continued to spasm for what seemed like an eternity – dumping a huge load in homage to the beautiful small man worshipping my arm. The car now smelled like a bathhouse. I had shot enough cum to equal that of an entire college football team – a load that had been building since the first time my gaze had ever landed on Professor Michaels. I finally released the now-strenuous flex of my biceps, curled my arm around the head of my Little Prince, and pulled his face into the center of my massively protruding pecs. I needed to smother the man in muscle – as a thank you for the intense release he had just given me. “How ‘bout a chest facial, Little Prince.” My mountains of meat, which mostly swallowed his entire head, muffled the moans of pleasure he released. At the same time, it was the Professor’s time to spew. Being almost suffocated by hard muscle proved too much for the man. He immediately started convulsing, just as I had a few minutes before. It was also clear that he had been saving up his precious juice just as long as I had. The copious amounts of cum he released into his underwear intensified the scent of pleasure by double. We both had paid the highest compliment to the other – offering our manly milk in adoration. I held my Little Prince against my chest until he finally stopped bucking like a bronco. He took a deep breath as soon as his face pulled slightly away from my pecs – partially, to fill his lungs with much needed oxygen, but, mostly, to get a good whiff of my manly musk. The smile on his face, while he stared up into my eyes made me fully hard again. It was a look of utter joy and happiness. “It’s funny, I never thought this car could possibly feel small until you got in it.” “Or smell this rank!” “Rank? That smell is part of you and so I think of it as one of the sweetest aromas ever.” “Hey, don’t forget you made a little contribution to the way it smells, too.” “Little contribution? I may be a small man compared to you, but the lake-sized damp stain at my crotch proves I made a big contribution.” “Forgive me, my Little Prince, I did not mean to insinuate your explosion was smaller than mine.” “Thank you. Your cannon is clearly four times the size of my weapon, but that doesn’t mean mine can’t make a huge deposit.” My release of sexual build-up had not only offered immense satisfaction, it had also awakened a need in me to show off more for my Little Prince. It had been a while since I had lifted all his heavy furniture and boxes – an hour or so since I had easily carried him back and forth from the moving truck on chairs, sofas, and tables. My body was already beginning to churn out new juices of appreciation for the little man and that made me want to do much more than just sit in the car and talk. “I need to pick you up, Little Prince.” “What?” “I need to lift your light little body over my head again and again – just to show you how strong I am. I need you to feel small and weightless.” The man got out of the car so quickly that all I saw was his cute little tight bubble-butt going out the door. Before I had even blinked he was standing in front of the car with his hands on his hips and a look of eager anticipation on his face. The idea of a nineteen-year old massive giant bodybuilder lifting his grown-man body up over his college-boy head had turned him into a guy with super speed. A sly smile crept across my face as I realized he was just as desperate for me to pump out a bunch of reps with him as I was. That’s exactly what fueled all of my excitement – the idea that he loved me showing off even more than I did. We both knew he’d give my arms no resistance and that there’d be absolutely no workout benefit to my bulging biceps from lifting such light weight, but the idea of Professor Michaels stretched out on my palms as I pressed up and down made two cocks – one massively enormous and one normal – hard as hell. I turned the engine off and got out of the car – suddenly aware of the thick gooey stickiness plastered at my crotch. I saw the dark stain in the Professor’s pants, too, and that brought a few more excited pulses to my throbbing cock. “I see my Little Prince wants to be carried like the royalty that he is. We can imagine I’m your ginormous genie that’s lifting you up for a magic carpet ride. I can be the Hulk carrying his little Thor to some unknown destination – for whatever it is that a giant green superhero can do with his tiny muscled friend. I’m thinking it might be good to do a little warming up, though. You know, just to build up the excitement and get my arms a little pumped for the fun of lifting your little body.” I was now in major ‘show off’ mode. I had realized that my Little Prince had fully given himself to the desires of his heart. I had come to this day knowing we would be together – the giant and his little mentor. I had fully planned on winning over Professor Michaels with my enormous muscles and my power. Now that all of my dreams were coming to fruition, I had decided to prolong this joy – this growing bond between two men of such different sizes – for a very long time. I approached everything as a much-wanted ‘edging’ for both of us. I wanted the next build-up to orgasm to have as much impact as the one that had come after many, many weeks of longing – even if release came only hours later than the earlier one. I wanted to add to my own excitement by arousing the Professor in ways he had never anticipated. It had been that way when I had worn the tight tank top to his office – he hadn’t expected how much my body would blow his mind. I wanted to do the same, now, even though it was clear we fully chose the other. “You make me feel so powerful, Professor Michaels. You make me feel superhuman.” I stood in front of his BMW. I bent down and grabbed under the front bumper with my big hands. I let out a few quick exhales, then inhaled quickly, and lifted up at the same time. With only a very slight strain, my back straightened out and the front of the car came off the ground as I stood back up. My arms were extended fully and I held the car at crotch level. My hard cock pressed into the metal bumper, which gave me an added thrill. I pressed my hard rod into the metal and moved it up and down, realizing I’d come close to shooting if I continued the motion. I looked over at my adoring little fan and watched his face fall into shock as I started to curl the bumper up to my chest. It took some effort and my biceps blasted into hardened massiveness, but I continued to lower and lift the car – all the time staring at how the Little Prince shook with excitement. Doing a feat of strength involving something other than his body, did not thrill me in the same way as when we were in close proximity or even touching, but seeing how I pumped out twenty reps with the BMW – and having each lift strangely become easier – was just about too much for the good Professor. I could see his dick visually jerking harder in his pants as I slowly counted each lift. He’d glance up at my face with such longing; such utter amazement at what I was doing and that only fueled me on more. The pleasure he clearly received from my little display only made me stronger – caused me to want to show off more. He definitely empowered me to go way beyond my normal giant college-boy abilities. On lift number twenty I keep the curl at the top, with my arms bent and my biceps ballooning out bigger than beach balls. I smiled at my little worshipper. “Feel them now, Little Prince. I think they’ll make you happy.” Again, the speed with which he moved amazed me. He was at my side in an instant. To my shock he did not begin by feeling my insanely monstrous biceps. He first reached out and felt the bumper of the car – as if he wanted to prove to himself it truly was now raised high enough to be even with his forehead. He looked under the car, merely because he’d probably never seen the vehicle from that angle. Next, his hand moved to my wrists – where his fingers traced three protruding veins that ran up my forearm. When he finally laid his hand on my pulsing, sweat-covered arm, he jumped back and withdrew his hand quickly. “It’s so hot! And hard! Harder even than it was before! How can that be?” “You make me want to be harder, Professor. And bigger. Go ahead, feel it some more.” This time, when his seemingly demure hands were spread out against the expanse of my huge muscle, I lowered the car and then lifted it – making sure he got to feel the power of the biceps in motion. I got the feeling that my Little Prince likened the experience to that of a small boy standing near a huge crane in motion – or some kind of wrecking ball plowing through a sturdy wall. Either way, the smaller man was in awe of the giant machine that was my arm. His fingers trembled as the muscle bulged harder when it lifted upward. Professor Michaels brought his cheek up against the stone-like slab and I lowered and lifted the car again. By now I could feel a slight burn in my arm muscles, but it was nothing to complain about. I held the front of the car aloft to allow my worshipper to feel away to his heart’s content. He finally looked up into my eyes. “I want to be your barbell now. I want to feel your power. I want to make you feel even stronger than when you lifted the car.” At that point, the petite man made me feel like I could have lifted the entire BMW over my head – for a hundred repetitions. I was only nineteen years old, but I had been so big for so many years I had definitely had my share of men gawk at me, grope my muscles, and worship my size. However, never had a man turned me on so much. I was so excited I squeezed the bumper extra hard with my big paws. For a few seconds I was worried I would leave finger indentions in the metal, but then I remembered – no matter how the Professor made me feel – I was only a very big man who was exceptionally strong, I was not a superman. I placed the car back onto the driveway and then turned to my little friend. The anticipation, the joy, the desire in his eyes was almost too much for me to bear. I had just lifted a BMW – something that weighed thousands of pounds – but lifting that man, who weighed no more than one hundred and sixty – was going to give me much more pleasure. Maybe it was because I’d be touching his body. Maybe it was because I’d be showing him how strong I was. Maybe it was because he would love it so much. I didn’t know. I simply knew that at that moment I desired nothing more in the world. I belonged to the Little Prince. I was his Gentle Giant. I would have done anything he requested and it would bring me more pleasure than I had ever known. I had lifted my share of guys in my short lifetime – mainly because I could. I did not, however, remember feeling more excited than I did at that moment.
  8. Too Big - Part Four

    Atlas continued his story. So, my lucky break came a few days later when I noticed something on the message board in the commons area on campus. There was a new flyer on the board one morning as I went to breakfast following an early workout. The sheet of paper had a picture of Professor Michaels holding a cardboard box and it was a request for students to give him some assistance in moving. It seemed he had a new house. He asked for six people and offered pizza and beverages as a thank you. I noticed that none of the tabs that had been prepared at the bottom of the flyer were gone. I quickly removed all six tabs and shoved them in my pocket. I knew Michaels would see that they had been taken and would then figure he had his crew for the move that upcoming Saturday. He definitely had his crew – his crew of one and that’s all he would need. “Holy crap, this is getting really good.” “It gets even better, Adonis. Just wait.” So, that Saturday I wore cargo shorts and a threadbare t-shirt with Freddy Mercury on it. I knew Michaels wouldn’t register anything beyond my body, but the shirt just seemed appropriate. I had a quick workout before I went to the Professor’s house – to pump up my body, to create a masculine musk for the occasion, and to have a little outline of sweat on my shirt before we even started. Everything was bulging nicely as I walked up his driveway – seeing him standing by his garage. I knew he’d be impressed. “Good morning, sir.” “Good morning. Somehow, I knew you’d be one of the people to help me today.” He stared at my body – not at my face. He clearly couldn’t get enough of me and loved the fact that my t-shirt hid not on of my bulges. I decided to play with him a little bit – just to get the ball rolling. “I hope you’re not disappointed that I’m here, Professor.” “On the contrary. We’ll just wait a few minutes for the rest to arrive.” “I don’t think anyone else is coming, sir.” “What do you mean?” “I took all the tabs off of your flyer so it would just be you and me today.” “You did what! Do you know how much big stuff I have to move?” “Professor Michaels, do you actually think you have anything that’s too big for me to handle. Cause unless you’ve got a grand piano in there, I think I’m going to be able to move all of your stuff pretty easily.” As I said this I raised my arms into a monstrous double biceps pose. This caused the bottom of my shirt to come up and reveal some of my hard, thick abs, too. I had certainly learned how to silence the man. The now familiar open mouth and wide eyes followed a loud gulp from my teacher. He was staring at the thick hard peaks that were tearing at he sleeves of my shirt. Something twitched and sprang to life in the front of his shorts – exactly the reaction I was looking for. I knew he thought I was flexing my guns to their fullest thickness, so I taunted him by increasing the tense and making them grow even bigger. I thought his eyes were going to bug right out of his head. As he spoke he didn’t take his gaze from my arms. “With arms like that we could probably load everything onto the truck and you could carry the thing to my new place.” “Come on Professor Michaels, you know that’s not true. I’m not super strong or anything like that, although I could probably pull the thing fully loaded across town.” I could see this was clearly too much for the man to digest. I was afraid his eyes were going to roll back into his head and he’d pass out again. Somehow, he regained some strength and didn’t teeter over. I dropped my arms, but he continued to stare at them – even when they were just dangling at my side. I had already gathered that my friend, the Professor, was an arms guy. Lucky for him, since I had some humongous guns. I walked closer to the smaller man – just so he could get a deep whiff of my post-workout aroma. I swear the dude got even harder just from smelling my sweaty body. “So, Professor, you want to show me the heaviest thing in the place and we can load that on the truck first. It will get things rolling and give me a chance to show you that we definitely don’t need anyone else to help. You’ve got a one-man moving team helping you, today.” “I’m pretty sure that would be my heavy roll-top desk up in my study on the second floor.” He reluctantly turned to lead me inside – clearly sad that he wasn’t going to get to look at my arms for a few minutes. Passing through he house I could see that he had obviously been working hard to get everything ready for the move. There were a lot of boxes and a pretty good amount of furniture. Everything seemed packed and ready to go. I had a feeling I’d have this guy completely moved in a few hours. That made me happy, because it would leave more time for us to get to know each other better. When he showed me the desk, I saw that the thing was pretty impressive. It was, indeed, huge – but I knew its weight would be nothing compared to what I lifted. Luckily the doorways were big and the thing would clearly fit through without having to finesse it in any way. “Why don’t you grab the other side, Professor. Oh, don’t give me that look. You can help. Don’t worry, I won’t make you carry too much of it and as we go down the stairs I promise I’ll go first, so I’ll have most of the weight. Just make sure you hold on real tight.” I winked at the man, just to rattle his cage a little more. I know they say you’re supposed to squat when you lift heavy things, but this desk wasn’t going to be much of a challenge. I also figured in the extra weight I was going to give the piece of furniture when we started moving. I watched as my Professor wrapped his strong, but small arms around the other end and latched on hard. I reached down and grabbed my side. Without any struggle at all, I lifted and tilted the desk at the same time. The Professor’s feet immediately left the ground as he and his side went up in the air. I saw the man freak out a little and then he doubled his effort to hold on. I wasn’t using near my full strength to hold the desk and the man in the air at the same time. I easily started walking everything out the door, down the steps, out the front door, and into the truck. I never even began to feel a strain. I lowered the Professor’s end once we had gone up the ramp of the vehicle. He let go of the piece of furniture as soon as his feet hit the ground. He came around quickly to get a good glimpse of me holding his desk – something he probably couldn’t even budge an inch to save his life – with no effort at all. I maneuvered the thing to the front of the truck and gently set it down. I walked over to the gawking man, pulled my right shirtsleeve up a little and then, again, flexed my big biceps right in front of his face. “You still doubt the power of these giant things, sir?” He could only shake his head ‘no’. He was too stunned to say a word. I pumped my arm a few times just to give him a bigger thrill. The slight moan that escaped his mouth told me I had succeeded. Watching the man get so excited about my size and strength had already sent me into overdrive. I was so hard I could have penetrated steel with my rod. I knew we needed to get the moving job done, but I so wanted to pick the little guy up and take him to his bedroom and show off all morning. I released the flexed biceps and looked down at the pleased face of my teacher. “How ‘bout the sofa next, Professor, and you can ride on it while I carry it.” The little guy was out of the truck and down the ramp almost before I had even finished the sentence. I came into the house to find him stretched out on his extra-long couch that ended up having a fold out bed in it. The thing would have been a lot heavier than it looked to most people, but I had no problem lifting it. The Professor’s face beamed as I easily lugged the big thing and him across the yard. He waved like royalty to an imaginary crowd as we walked up the ramp. “Did you enjoy the ride, your highness?” “I did, indeed.” “I just got a great idea. I like the thought of you being a king or prince. I think I’ll start calling you my Little Prince, if that suits you, sir.” “Only we we’re alone together. I don’t think it would work in class.” It was his time to wink at me. There was no way he could know how that simple action – that mere acknowledgement of how he accepted my pet name and how he was beginning to reveal his true feelings – made me excited beyond belief. I had longed for a little guy to cuddle, to show off for, and to take care of for so long. I was beginning to realize my feelings for the Little Prince were consuming me completely. It was also pretty clear that he felt the same way about me. I decided to take our budding romance to a whole new level. “It’s getting pretty hot, Professor. Would it be okay with you, Little Prince, if I did the rest of the loading without my shirt?” I swear the guy’s heart stopped beating. True to form, the mouth dropped open wide, the eyes doubled in size, the face turned white as a sheet, and the man couldn’t say a word. He just nodded weakly. I grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt and started bringing it up over my enormous torso. When the shirt was about at my shoulders there was suddenly a loud gasp. “Holy fucking shit!” I immediately dropped my shirt back over my body – thinking something terrible had happened. I quickly looked at the Professor and saw that he looked like he was about to keel over dead. “What is it? What happened?” “You’re perfection.” He spoke as if in a trance. I could see he was still turning the sight of my massive chest and chiseled abs over and over in his head. I let out a little chuckle and then pulled my shirt off in one quick smooth move. I draped it over part of the truck and turned back to the Little Prince. The poor guy was having trouble figuring out where he wanted his gaze to land. It was pretty obvious he thought he’d be missing out on something if he didn’t take it all in at one time. I rolled my massive pecs just to tease him. His head bobbed up and down like he was riding some waves. “That’s it, Little Prince, follow the bouncing pecs. I want you to feel like all of these mountains of muscle bulge just for you. They’re all here just to serve my Little Prince.” My words and the heaving chest in front of him had so mesmerized the Professor that he was now completely hypnotized. It was as if he could think of nothing else but my huge body. I was pretty sure he had passed into some other world where only muscle registered to him. I decided to test my theory. I tensed every fiber that was not covered by clothing. “You like my body, Little Prince?” “Completely. It’s all I ever think about.” “And you don’t mind that I took off my shirt, do you?” “Hell no.” “You want this big man to show off for you?” “Yes, please yes.” “Then let’s get you moved, so we can have some real fun.” I walked passed the guy and down the ramp – both of us eager to get the task at hand done. For the next four and a half hours I basically loaded and unloaded the Professor’s entire house. I easily carried six boxes to each one the Little Prince could lift. I carried armoires, chests, tables, and much more – items that would have clearly required three to four moving men each. The Little Prince followed me like a good little puppy – continuously staring at my muscles as I lifted, bent over, and flexed just to continuously tease him. At one point I had grabbed the refrigerator and started out the front door when the Professor briefly came out of his trance to tell me the appliances weren’t going. I gently put the stainless steel, double-door big thing back in its original place. My Little Prince insisted on riding on all six of the dining room chairs as I carried them out to the truck – as well as anything he could fit on. It was like he was a small kid at an amusement park. I began to wonder what all the neighbors thought. The sun was beating down hard so I was sweating up a storm – not from exertion, just from the heat. Every now and then I’d run a finger down the deep valley between my bulging pecs – following the small river of manly perspiration – and then bring my fingers up to the Professor’s mouth so he could have a taste of his personal Hercules. We were both getting a little light headed – not from dehydration, but from the fact that we were perpetually rock hard, turning each other on every second we were together. The Professor whined a little when we were done unloading stuff into his gorgeous new modern house about three miles away and I told him he’d have to follow me in his car as I returned the truck. It was clear he didn’t want to be separated for that long. I didn’t put on my shirt when we drove to the rental place. I knew that would please my Little Prince in a big way. Watching the four husky men that worked at the shop immediately get intimidated when I walked up with the tiny man thrilled both of us. One of the guys, clearly the owner, cleared is throat and forced his gaze away from my massive bare chest to talk to my Little Prince. “Um, Professor Michaels, you had the truck rented for two days. Is there a problem? You’re back in five hours.” “No problem at all. It’s just that my big friend, here, has moved everything in my house on his own.” “You’re telling me that your entire two-story house has been moved in less than five hours and it was done by one guy!” “Yes.” The silence that followed in the room thrilled me. All eyes slowly returned to my big frame. I was a little excited by the fact that every guy in the room had to tilt his head back to look up at me – even though I was the youngest there. I gave the workers a big college-boy smile and pumped my arms into a massive double biceps pose. “I had a really good breakfast.” Immediately, I heard a sound that could only have been a cock spewing. Which was soon followed by the distinct smell of cum. I glanced down at the crotches of all the workers and smiled when I saw a wet stain starting to form at the front of the owner’s pants. He was the smallest of all the men, so that made me extra happy, as well. I don’t think the dude even realized he had shot off a big wad. He looked at me as he spoke. “Listen, big man, if you’re ever looking for a way to make some extra cash, don’t hesitate to come see me. I could use a one-man moving crew.” “I’ll keep that in mind, sir. I love lifting heavy things.”
  9. Too Big - Part Three

    Atlas finished his story, took a swig from his beer and noticed that Adonis had to grab the stool nearby and sit down. He looked a little shaken. Atlas looked at he little guy with concern. “Um . . . sorry, I’m just a little weak-kneed at the moment, Atlas. That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever heard. I think I need to rest.” “Yeah, which part turned you on the most?” “Wow, there were so many parts. A seventh grader that’s bigger than the teachers. A kid that has a lower voice than some virile gym teacher. A guy holding three bullies in place with one arm. A set of abs that don’t even notice full-on punches. A father telling his huge son to act like a superhero. A dude being easily lifted into the air. So much. But I guess the part that got me the most excited was the idea that I might take the place of little Jimmy Shaw.” “I was hoping that would be your favorite part.” “Really? Why?” “Cause I’d like you to take the part of little Jimmy Shaw, too.” “Why is that Atlas? Why do you get so turned on by little guys – guys like me?” “I really don’t know. It’s just always been that way. I mean two days after that incident at school Brett Roberts came to my house in the afternoon and begged me to lift him into the air again. He also begged me to let him punch my stomach again – a bunch of times, until he wore himself out. I obliged him, and all, but it didn’t turn me on the way it did with some small guy. Brett was too cocky . . . too confident. I think some big guys like to conquer other big men, but not me. I like to please, show off for, and take care of little guys. I can’t explain it. Who knows, maybe I have a ‘father complex’ or something like that. I just know that if I want to bust out a major wad nothing churns it out like watching a much smaller man touch my muscles or when some dude gets excited just from me flexing or – by far the most intense is when a little guy asks me to show off my strength or my size. I really wish I could explain what it does to me. Maybe it’s like when you hold a newborn bird or a kitten. You know, they’re so fragile – it almost makes you feel so powerful, just knowing you could crush them into nothing – but you don’t, you wouldn’t. That could be it – it could be because a small guy makes me feel so much bigger and stronger than I really am. Maybe the dude empowers me even more. I really just don’t know. I can tell you one thing for sure, though. It excites me in a way that’s almost magical – otherworldly.” “I bet you have small guys crawling all over you all the time, Atlas.” “Hell no, dude. Most guys are just plain scared of me – no matter what their size. I just seem to intimidate the crap out of most people I meet. You’d be amazed at how many people won’t even look me in the eye when I talk to them.” “Maybe they’re too busy staring at your humongous body.” “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Most little guys don’t even register that I’m human. They just see a mound of muscle and either turn away and run like hell or get so tongue tied they can’t say a word. They just end up staring or fainting, overcome by my size. I rarely meet little dudes that are . . . I don’t know, I don’t want to sound conceited . . . but I rarely meet any that are brave enough to talk to me. I intimidate them or something.” “Well, I’m not intimidated . . . well, actually I am – because you’re just so freaking huge, but not so much that I can’t talk to you. In fact, your hugeness makes me want to talk to you. Besides, I’m amazed anyone would find it hard to not engage with you, Atlas. You’ve got a happy, easygoing aura about you.” “Thanks. I’d say the same about you.” “So, did you and little Jimmy Shaw ever get together in school? You know, did you help him live out his fantasies.” “Naw, the dude liked girls. He’s married now and has three kids. He’s the founder of some tech start up and has made millions. Maybe billions. A couple of years ago, he asked me for a little favor, though. There were some goons at his gym that were harassing him – just like Brett and his pals in junior high school. He invited me to his elite club uptown to re-live that moment way back in seventh grade. It was kind of fun putting some adult bullies in their place while the still skinny and small Jimmy watched. It was just as big a turn on two years ago as it was way back when. And how about you, Adonis? Do you like boys or girls?” “I like huge men.” “That’s the answer I like to hear.” “The bigger the better.” “That makes it even sweeter. I hope I fit the bill.” “You fit the bill about ten times over, Atlas. How ‘bout another story from your past – one that would excite me as much as the one about Jimmy Shaw.” “Let me see, what would make you happy? Oh, I’ve got the perfect one. This would have been when I was in college. It was my sophomore year. I was around nineteen. I took an art history class mainly because everyone said the teacher was the best on campus. I’ll never forget walking into class on the first day to find a huge hall filled with about a hundred and twenty people. I was a little disappointed in the size of the class. That is, until the teacher walked in. I’ll never forget my first glimpse of Dr. Norman Michaels. He was about five feet, seven inches tall, weighed no more than one-fifty to one fifty-five, and had a perfect little swimmers build – broad shoulders, narrow hips, and an ass that was made for bouncing quarters! He wore the tightest jeans I’ve ever seen – along with a stylish blazer – and always a preppy button down. He had shoulder length wavy brown hair that fell into place perfectly. He was always brushing it out of his face. A move that made me always have to adjust myself down below. “Bet you couldn’t do that without people noticing, huh?” “Especially since my legs were to big and thick for me to put under the little desktop that flipped up and over to write on. Anyway, that first day Professor Michaels decided to call roll – something that never happened in a class, especially one that big. Everyone just signed in, but that first day he insisted on seeing who everyone was – even though we were such a huge class. I didn’t think anything about it until he got to my name. When I raised my hand I swear I saw a little smile flick across my teacher’s face and then he made a note in his grade book. I was the only one that he made a note about. That’s when I first started getting suspicious. Everything became even more obvious when we started studying Greek statues and Michaels would have me stand up in front of class – next to powerpoint pictures of Hercules, Zeus, and the like – just to compare. I swear the little guy knew the name of every muscle in the human form – something he said was necessary when painting or carving a statue – but I got the feeling there was another reason. I decided to test my theory out. “Oh this is getting good.” “Yeah? I thought you’d like it. So, the Professor decided to have one-on-one conferences with all of his students. I figured this was the perfect time to get to know the guy a little more, so I signed up for one of the first slots available. I made sure it was the last meeting of the day – thinking that would give us more time. I went to my dorm and changed into some tight cotton shorts and a muscle hugging tank top for the meeting. I was a little worried my outfit might give the guy a heart attack, but then I remembered he looked in pretty good shape, himself. I had heard he did, indeed, swim a lot. Michaels was sitting at his desk with his back to the door when I got there for the meeting. There wasn’t anyone else in the hallway, so I knew our time together would be pretty private. I knocked on the door and let my deep voice boom a little louder than usual when I spoke. “Um . . . Professor Michaels. I’m here for my meeting.” I saw the guy’s entire body shake with excitement and he even jumped a little at the sound of my words. When he turned around, I had one arm draped above my head as I held on to the top of the doorframe. This pose made my arm bend slightly, so I decided to stack the deck even more and tense my biceps a little. The poor guy dropped the pencil he was holding as soon as he turned around. His mouth popped open wide and it was clear he couldn’t speak. I saw him glance at my tree-trunk thighs bulging out from my stretched, paper-thin shorts. “Um . . . is it okay if I come in, Professor?” He didn’t speak. He merely nodded his head up and down. I purposefully waddled into the room – swinging my gigantic upper body confidently as I moved. I also closed the door behind me. I heard the Professor gulp loudly. There was a wooden chair near him – with a pretty high back. I swung my leg over the back and planted my huge self a few feet away from him. It was a move to emphasize how big I was and it worked perfectly. The shocked teacher still could not speak. He simply stared from my chest to my arms and then back again. I reached out with one of my big hands, lifted his chin to close his mouth and then tilted his head so he was looking me in the eyes. “My face is up here, sir.” He swallowed hard and it took a few seconds for what I said to register with the guy. He turned bright red and immediately started speaking wildly. “Of course it is. It’s right up there . . . up there atop of those Herculean shoulders. Those big mounds of massive muscle that seem to stick out like two Gibraltar’s. And those lead to two humongous arms that look like . . . “ And then the guy caught himself. He turned even redder and immediately shut up. He turned around, fumbled around his desk for a file – which I assumed was mine – and then turned back to me. He wouldn’t look at me for a couple of minutes and simply thumbed through paper in the folder to make himself look busy. I smiled a knowing smile. The little dude was definitely into muscle. By this point, my huge schlong was so hard it looked like someone had stuffed a fire extinguisher down my shorts. The cute little Professor was rocking all my boats. I wanted to pick him up in his rolling wooden desk chair, bring him up to my face, and plant a big sloppy kiss on those thick luscious lips, but I knew that would have made him even more uncomfortable. I could be patient when I wanted to be and I knew there’d come a time when it was the right moment for us to be together – even it didn’t end up being today. “Um . . . so are you . . . enjoying the class.” “Very much, Professor. I like it the most when you talk about my body to the class.” “Well, you are the perfect specimen.” “Am I?” I raised my arms and flexed – glancing to the right and then to the left as I bounced my biceps a few times. I heard him gasp and, again, he dropped the pencil – and then the file with all the papers. I reached down to pick everything up – mainly because the guy was completely frozen, clearly overwhelmed by my flexed peaks. I laid everything in his lap because he still wasn’t moving when I got it all together. He just continued to stare at my arms. “I really like all the examples of the male physique you show in the class, Professor. Some of the artwork inspires me when I work out. I kind of think of myself as a sculptor or a painter as I mold my body into something I can be proud of. Into something that others might find pleasing. I’m all about making others feel good.” I knew I was being a little cruel, but I couldn’t help it. I found the guy so freaking hot that I could barely refrain from reaching out and picking him up in a tight bear hug, just to squeeze my love into him. The room was getting really hot, by now, and the Professor’s forehead was covered in sweat. I took advantage of the situation. “Hey, Professor, it’s kind of hot in here. How about I open your window?” I leaned forward, scooting out of my chair a little, but staying down on his level. I reached my muscled arms around him and brought my hulking chest a few inches from his face. He was looking straight down the cavernous valley between my pecs and could see how massive they were. I grabbed the window and easily slid it upward – noticing the thing made a lot of noise as it opened. I sat back down and noticed the Professors eyes were now twice the size they were before. “Uh . . . that window’s been stuck for three years . . . no maintenance man has ever been able to get it open!” “Really, Professor? It just opened right up for me. I barely had to use any strength at all. I guess these big arms are just more powerful than a group of maintenance men.” I flexed my arms again and, immediately, I knew our teacher-student conference was over. The eyes of my small Professor rolled back into his head and the guy simply passed out. It was kind of cute. He just went nighty-night – clearly my body and strength had just been too much for him. He didn’t slump down in his chair or fall over, his chin simply fell forward and he was totally gone. I know it was wrong, but I took advantage of the situation. I reached out and copped a feel of his chest, his arms, his legs, and the swollen mound at his crotch. Just as I had suspected – the Professor was a tightly muscled little guy. And he was carrying a pretty big package, as well. I ran my fingers across his plump lips and then brought them up to my own. I had the feeling I’d be tasting those things for real one day, soon. I figured I shouldn’t leave the poor guy just sitting there, so I easily lifted him and carried him over to the sofa on the other side of the room. I was kind of bummed he wasn’t awake to see how light he was for me. The guy immediately curled into a fetal position when I set him down. I stood there for a few more seconds – just soaking up the beauty of the man. He turned me on so much. I then wrote him a note – saying I really enjoyed our meeting. I ended it by saying I hoped he had a really nice sleep. I then turned out his light and left, shutting the door behind me. “Maybe you should have carried him to your dorm room – you never know what would have happened when he woke up.” “Maybe, but try explaining an unconscious teacher draped over an arm to people on campus.” Anyway, if I had thought the good Professor was going to ignore me the next day – out of embarrassment – I was dead wrong. He handed me a note when I entered the classroom. It was written on the same note I had left for him the night before. It said, ‘Thanks for the lift last night. I slept like a baby.’ He smiled at me as I stiffly walked to my seat. It was then I realized the Professor knew he was wrecking my world just as much as I was wrecking his. I was harder than a two-by-four the entire class and he knew it. Luckily, he didn’t ask me to stand in front of the class, for my raging hard-on would have been impossible to hide. Over the next few class periods I decided to try out different outfits to see which one Michaels preferred me in. You know, I was getting ready for when we went on a real date. He seemed to light up the most when I wore a severely tight black polo shirt and jeans that were so tight they might as well have been painted on. So, the prepster liked other preppies. It was duly noted. “I bet, like me, Atlas, he simply liked any outfit that hugged your muscles revealingly.” “You’re probably right, Adonis.”
  10. Too Big - Part Two

    “I did, however, get dubbed ‘The Protector’ in seventh grade because I decided my job would be to keep everyone safe from bullies. It was my way of being the superhero my dad talked about. There were some wee lads in my class – guys much smaller than even my arms – and I found out early on in the year that it was a huge turn on for me to take care of them. To make sure none of the older, bigger guys picked on them. One day I was taking a short cut outside and came upon three ninth graders shoving one of my little pals around and knocking his books out of his hands. Instead of getting angry or going ballistic – I was amazed by the fact that my already man-thick rod shot the hardest it had ever been and my body got all tingly with excitement. The knowledge that I was about to protect little Jimmy Shaw – showing him how big and strong I was by fending off three guys at one time – was almost enough to make me squirt a monstrous load in my undershorts. I wanted to pick up the little fellow – who had been shoved to the ground – easily lift him all the way up to the half wall that was next to us and let him watch the show. Making him feel comfortable and safe was all that was on my mind. I watched his eyes grow big with hope as I walked up behind his tormentors and that made me even more excited.” “Is there a problem here little men?” Since I had the biggest chest on campus I also had the deepest voice. Even the very masculine, heavily hairy Coach Saunders sounded a little lady-like beside me. I loved how my voice sounded like a long deep roll of thunder announcing a coming storm. I noticed the backs of our trio of bullies immediately stiffened with fear and I swear I saw the one on the right start to tremble. By the time they turned around the guy in the middle – football superstar tackle, Brett Roberts – had regained some of his cockiness and he decided it was time to rid the other students of their respect – and fear – of me, once and for all. That was his first mistake. “No problem, my big doofus. We’re just reminding this seventh grader of his proper place in the food chain. You can continue on your way – that is, unless you’d like us to remind you, as well.” Some guys would have gotten mad. Some guys would have gotten scared. Some guys would have just laughed at the dweeb. I, however, responded by immediately starting to leak a little pre-cum from the huge hard rocket in my pants. Brett was a pretty big kid – maybe the largest guy in school besides me – but even if you put him and his two pals together they still wouldn’t have equaled my mass or my strength. The fact that this didn’t register to them only made me happier than a kid in a candy store. I could see a wave of fear suddenly land on Jimmy Shaw’s face. The fact that he, also, didn’t realize just how much I could easily dominate these three upper classmen made my heart jump with excitement. I instantly knew that showing the little guy what I was capable of – without hurting anyone – was going to give me fodder for beating off for months – maybe even years – to come. I suddenly felt like Prince Charming, a knight in shining armor, or even someone like Captain America. Helping my cute little classmate with wire-rim glasses and a waist much smaller than one of my thighs seemed to make the world perfect. Every single bulging muscle in my body pulsed thick with blood from the anticipation of making Jimmy happy. “Well, I’m pretty slow, there, Brett, so I guess you three goons are just going to have to show me, too.” I watched with utter joy as Brett’s hand made a fist at his side. I knew what was coming and the mere idea of what was going to happen made me want to pick up the three boys in one big bear hug and kiss them. I also started thinking about how Jimmy Shaw was going to view everything. Seeing the upcoming altercation through his eyes made everything even sweeter to me. I wanted to be the little dude – seeing my hulking figure blocking out the sun for everyone else. I wanted to watch, from his viewpoint, the astonishing moment that was about to take place. “With pleasure, freak.” Brett swung his elbow back and let his clenched fist fly through the air into my stomach. The loud smack made Jimmy close his eyes from fear of seeing me doubled over, but it also made my hard dick spurt a bigger gob of pre cum. Nothing on my body moved. Abs didn’t cave in. I didn’t even sway a little. Brett, his two pals, Jimmy – who had quickly re-opened his eyes - and I simply looked down at my mid-section and registered how the football player’s punch had been easily stopped by something much, much more powerful. I turned my gaze back to Brett, whose face was now looking at me and signaling pain. He raised his arm and immediately shook out his hand. For a second I was worried he had broken his wrist, but then I saw him wiggling all his fingers to make sure nothing was seriously hurt. To tease the guy even more I reached down and raised my t-shirt, revealing my titanium six-pack – just to prove to him it was all me that had stopped his puny punch. “I guess this freak’s got some abs of steel, huh, Brett?” Brett’s two pals actually turned out to be dumber than he was. As soon as they saw me lift my shirt – revealing an un-tensed stomach that was cut like stones, they decided to defend their friend. Both goons pulled back their arms and sent simultaneous punches into my uncovered gut. Again, the sound of the two loud smacks was like music to my ears. As soon as I saw what was coming I wondered – briefly – if I’d be able to bear the assault as easily as I had when it was just Brett, but – again – not one part of me budged even a fraction of an inch. My abs barely registered anything. Suddenly, all three of the guys were shaking out their hands from the pain and Jimmy Shaw and I were still staring at my abs. I tensed them – just to tease the upper classmen – and to show everyone that I had withstood the punches with a stomach that was relaxed. Jimmy Shaw let out a high-pitched squeal-like gasp as he saw my brick-laid abs turn harder and pop out even more from the flex. I looked into Jimmy’s shocked gaze and let the shirt drop back down. “Pretty cool, huh Jimmy? And I wasn’t even tensing them that hard.” I took advantage of the fact that all three of the older guys were still trying to reduce the stinging pain in their fingers and wrists. I quickly lined them in a row – back to front – with Brett at the head of the line. I placed my big hand on the dude’s chest – marveling at how my fingers spread across the expanse of his pecs - and then smashed all three of them into the wall close to where Jimmy still sat on the ground. I easily held all three of them in place with one arm – loving the fact that they each started to squirm wildly – both from the slight pain of being compressed and the desire to escape. For a fraction of a second it dawned on me that I wasn’t even using my full strength to keep them in place. My one thickly muscled arm pressed them into the wall like a vice-grip that would hold two boards together. The panicked look on their faces was cool, but not half as much as the lustful, awe-filled look of the little guy on the ground. The face of that little guy was fulfilling fantasies I didn’t even know I had. He was the damsel in distress, the Lois Lane to my Superman, the Mary Jane Watson to my Spiderman, and the Jane Foster to my Thor. Jimmy Shaw made me want to do many other things to the three goons I held in place, but I also knew I wouldn’t do anything to hurt them. “So, Brett and friends, here’s the deal. Take a look at the guy down there on the ground. Take a good look. His name is Jimmy Shaw. I don’t want you to forget his name or his face. Cause, you see, Jimmy’s a friend of mine. A very good friend of mine. And from now on, whenever you see Jimmy you’re going to tell him hello. You’re going to act like he’s been your best pal for many years. You’re even going to go out of your way to be nice to him. And if you don’t I’ll be there to remind you why you should. Holding you three in place is nothing for me, mates. I’m not even using my full force. Here, let me show you.” I pushed on Brett even harder – still not near my total strength – and smiled to myself as each guy was forced to exhale even more air. The poor dude in the middle was starting to turn a little blue. I knew I’d have to let them go soon. I didn’t want to have anyone pass out. I lessened my grip and loved how my increased strength had made each one of them panic even more. “So, unless you want to see me unleash my Hulk-like strength on you – you better be nice to Jimmy from now on. Have I made myself clear?” The two goons in the back quickly nodded their heads up and down. Brett, however, proved to be even more stupid than I thought and he just stared at me. I knew I’d have to make myself clearer to him. I reached up with my other hand and grabbed the lapels of his letterman jacket. I pulled him from the other two dudes, who immediately fell to the ground – gasping for air and rubbing their aching chests. I tightened my grip on Brett and lifted my arms – causing the kid’s feet to fully come off the ground. I was taller than him – so it was fun to raise him to my eye level. We both quickly noted how easy it was for me to lift his entire body into the air. I was amazed at how light he actually was. I brought his face up to mine. I had eaten an onion-laden burger for lunch so I made sure to exhale even harder than usual as I spoke. I wanted – in the future – the smell of onions to make Brett remember how his feet dangled in the air and I held him like he was as light as a pillowcase. I have a feeling the guy, to this day, steers away from onions. I spoke slowly – lowering my voice into something close to a growl. “It seems that my buddy, Brett, is a slow learner. Maybe showing you how light you really are – at least to me – might help make our little lesson from today stick in that thick brain of yours a little more. So, you want to answer me this time, little man? Do you understand that from this day forward you’re going to be extra nice to my good pal, here, Jimmy?” I actually moved my arms to the side and tilted the dude downward a little so he could have a good look at the small guy on the ground. Without hesitation, Brett started shaking his head up and down and actually let out a little sob mixed in with the word ‘sorry.’ I was impressed with this extra touch – and so was Jimmy. I tossed the football player down onto his friends and then watched the three of them scramble quickly to their feet and run away. I gazed at them as they left – noting that all three of them kept looking back to make sure I wasn’t coming after them. I then turned to Jimmy Shaw. The kid looked up at me with eyes full of gratitude, awe, and astonishment. He then raised his arms – like a toddler might do to an adult. He was actually looking to me to pick him up. This small gesture – this tiny confirmation of how he viewed me made tears well up in my eyes. I loved how I towered over him – the incredible difference in our sizes. But only because I desired to protect him, take care of him, and show off for him. I smiled, reached down, grabbing him under the arms, and lifted him even much more easily than I had Brett. If Brett had been a pillowcase then Jimmy was nothing more than a simple tissue. I held the little guy at eye level and we simply gazed at each other without saying a word. There was no need. We both knew what the other was thinking – even without expressing a thing. I gently put him down on the ground, reached lower and picked up his books, and then carried them for him. I looked down at him as we started off. “Come on, pal. I’ll walk you to Mr. Jones’ class. When he sees that you’re with me he’ll not mark you as tardy. I mow his lawn shirtless every other weekend and he brings out six or seven glasses of lemonade every time – just to steal glances at my big body.”
  11. Too Big

    “You’re a big man.” “Too big?” “Is that even possible?” “Some men would say yes. Maybe not fitting through regular doorframes is their limit. Or maybe it’s not fitting comfortably on a single bed. Or sometimes it’s just a matter of buttons on a shirt being pulled way too tight. You’d be surprised by what turns a guy off.” “Do I seem turned off?” “No. Quite the opposite, really.” “I like it when a guy can’t find a shirt that fits him well. When everything seems too small and you can actually see skin between the strained buttons. As for the bed, a real man should never have to fit into a single. It’s made for children. I like it best when a king-size bed looks small because a big man is lying on it. And doorframes seem like they were made to be busted by shoulders . . . wouldn’t you say?” “I’ve ruined a few in my time.” “I bet you have.” “The best is when it’s a metal frame and my size just dents the thing to crap as I pass through.” “I kind of feel sorry for the frame.” “No you don’t.” Monstrous pecs bounced a little under the skin-tight t-shirt. Shoulders were pulled back a little and seemed to flare out even wider. Simply to impress. The poor weak shirtsleeves inched up mega biceps that seemed to pulse to twice their size. The weakened fabric seemed like a second skin – striations, veins, nipples, and hair so clearly seen. “It might interest you to know that I compete.” “I get the feeling you also win.” “I’ve got my share of trophies.” “Although, sometimes, a living, breathing trophy is the best kind . . . wouldn’t you agree?” The bulging thick neck swallowed hard. Luscious, manly lips parted in what could only be described as a deeply masculine slow gasp. The giant had been surprised – something that seemed unfathomable a few seconds before. Dark blue eyes grew wider, followed by a smile so gorgeous it could have slain an army. “I didn’t realize this was a competition. I would have taken my shirt off.” “Not a competition, exactly. More like an interview.” “I should have brought my CV.” “I hope it’s long.” “And hard?” A much-needed gulp of the vodka tonic sitting on the bar happened at the same time the behemoth took a long swig of his beer. Eyes never left the other. Both men seemed to need a few seconds to recover . . . to move back from the edge. “How much do you weigh?” “Whoa, big man . . . getting a little personal, aren’t we?” Silence. Eyes not leaving the other. “I weigh one hundred an fifty-six pounds.” “And I weigh three eighty.” There was no way either man could comprehend how much this shared information excited the other. Sometimes, cocks harden for the strangest reasons. Weight difference . . . and difference in size seemed to be a turn on for both the giant and the little guy. There was a need for another long swallow of both drinks. “I curl weight heavier than you.” “I’m not sure any of the furniture in my place is heavier than you.” “That make you nervous?” “Just the opposite.” “Not intimidated by size?” “No. Why would I be? The bigger the better.” There was so much sexual energy flowing between the two men at that point that if any human being had walked between them the poor person would have been electrocuted on the spot. “Some men are scared by my size.” “I don’t know why. Are you going to hurt me?” “No. That’s not why I’m big.” “Just as I figured. Although, sometimes a little pain can be erotic. You know, just to show me how big and strong you really are.” “Yeah? Only if it’s something you like.” “A little squeeze here. A little bear hug there. It can be fun for both of us.” “I like the way you think.” “I like the way you bulge.” Another need for retreat. Another need for a sip of cool liquids. The drinks were now finished and the man with muscles galore signaled to the bartender for another round. He held his arm up and signaled for two more by making the peace sign with his fingers. The smaller man stared at the biceps that bulged – though it was completely relaxed. This did not go unnoticed by the big man. “Shall I flex it for you?” “Please.” A chorus of angels. The beginning of an opera by Wagner. A thousand timpani drums pounding at the same time. The finale of a fireworks extravaganza. None of these came close to describing the moment when the giant tensed his arm and made his biceps bulge to full size. It was now time for the little man to gasp slowly and let his mouth drop open wide. Time froze still for both men. Nothing else mattered – except for bulging hard flesh, gaping eyes, and a wide-open mouth. It took a few seconds for the smaller man to return to earth. “Just a little thing I’ve been working on for a few years.” “There’s nothing ‘little’ about it. It’s bigger than my head. And probably a lot harder!” “I’m glad it pleases.” The giant released the flex. He knew it would be better for the continued conversation. He watched the smaller man’s gaze stay glued to the biceps even after he had lowered his arm and left it relaxed at his side. “I’m a verified muscle whore.” “I’m a verified muscle exhibitionist.” “It seems we were made for each other.” “It would seem so. Mind if I ask a personal question?” “I don’t mind at all. I’m an open book.” “Why muscles? Why a big guy? Why me?” “To be frank . . . all of that was secondary. You smiled when I smiled at you. That comes first with me. You were friendly . . . open . . . happy. Look around this place. Look how many people seem desperate . . . sad . . . lonely. You didn’t radiate any of that kind of energy.” “Neither did you.” “Now, my turn. Why me?” “Simple. You spoke to me. You engaged me. You actually spoke to me as a person.” “I’m not sure what you mean.” “Easy. Other guys only see my size . . . my muscles. You actually saw me. I guess – since you said it - it was my smile, but you talked to me like I was a person and not just a piece of big muscled meat. I actually felt like you wanted to get to know me.” “A man is much more than his muscles.” “Just as a man is more than his gorgeous tight ass.” “Are you saying I have a gorgeous tight ass?” “Well, now that you mention it . . . yes, yes you do!” “And you, my big friend, have a body carved at Olympus.” New drinks had arrived and just in time. Both men, again, took long swigs of alcohol to calm their libidos. It seemed that only common decency and the fact they were in a public place prevented both of them from ripping the clothes off of the other. A second long sip of both drinks was needed to calm the moment. “My name is…” “Wait! Let’s name each other. Let’s give each other the name we think the other should have.” “Um . . . okay. Wow. You’ll have to give me a second.” “That’s fine. I’ve already got yours.” “Yeah? What would that be?” “Atlas. Cause you seem to be holding up my entire world. And I think you could do it with just one arm. Maybe even one hand.” “How crazy is that? I’ve got a Greek name for you, as well. Adonis. Because you’re one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen.” “The god of desire.” “Yep, that’s the one.” The two men stared at each other. If eyes had been able to undress people, then both men would have been stark naked. Neither guy moved a muscle – small or big. Desire was dripping off of everything within five feet of both of them. Around them, the bar continued to move at a different pace – guys flirting, romances ending, drinks being served, and hearts beating wildly – but right there, at their corner of the bar all time stopped and it was only the two of them. Nothing else mattered. “It seems we’re the A-team. Both of us with a name starting with ‘A.’ And both of us Greek.” “Well, the Greeks did know a thing or two about the unspeakable love between two men.” “Yes, they did. And they had so much respect for the male form . . . for muscles.” “Kind of like you.” The big man spoke in a whisper. He wasn’t sure why, but he definitely felt the importance of the conversation and of the moment. He wanted to convey all of his respect, admiration, and lust in one sentence. He definitely succeeded. The smaller man was entranced . . . in love . . . entrapped. “I feel that worship is the only appropriate response to huge bulges.” “And I feel that worship should be rewarded . . . appropriately.” “Hopefully with more flexing, more groping, and more worshipping.” “Exactly.” This time the pause – the time out – was needed more than ever. It seemed that the two men were teetering on an abyss of no return. It was clear that each guy was so turned on that they were unable to fully register other people existed in the room. The world, for each, had become completely about the other. For a few seconds words were unneeded. The big man let the back of his hand – resting on the bar – brush up against that of the smaller guy. They both looked at the ridiculous size difference in front of them. “Your hands are enormous.” “Yeah. In high school, my baseball coach said there wasn’t a glove made for a paw as big as mine. I told him it didn’t matter. I just played without one. Not even he could hit the ball hard enough for it to hurt when I caught it.” “Have you always been huge?” “Pretty much. The doctor said it was all about genetics when I was younger. I guess both my parents came from long lines of huge people. My dad’s family was Vikings and my mom’s lineage was Scandinavian or something like that. When I was around ten years old I was flipping channels one Saturday morning, bored of cartoons, and I fell upon a bodybuilding contest on a sports channel. Immediately I was entranced. There was some huge super heavyweight going through his routine to a piece of classical music and I thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. Two important things happened at the end of his performance – I creamed in my pants for the first time, entering puberty, and I instantly knew my calling in life. I started lifting the next day – using an old barbell set of my dads – and haven’t stopped since. Some people say I took to it really well. I kept growing taller and pumped up huge immediately.” “I’ll say.” “In junior high I was bigger than everyone at school. Even the teachers. I was also stronger than all of them. My parents wanted the administrators to skip me a few grades – just to put me with boys my own size, but the principal said even college students were smaller than me. My father sat me down one night and gave me a stern talk about not being a bully and not using my size and strength in a bad way. He told me that – in a way – I was like a superhero that needed to always think about what was the right thing to do and to not hurt others. For some reason that talk stuck with me and I’ve been that way ever since.” “Lucky for us, mere mortals.”
  12. Big Tyler

    So…here is my first story I have ever done. So please forgive me for any grammar or spelling errors I may make. I have been on this site for many years, with a lift and carry fetish, but never contributed a story until now. So here it goes. I met Tyler online in a chatroom for muscle guys and their admirers. I have been on this site before with not much luck. But that night was different. I started messaging him. He told me that he was a big guy, and he loved to show off for his admirers. Some guys find my fetish of being picked up and carried a turn off and end the conversation there. So…I was expecting another shutdown from Tyler once I told him my fantasy, but his response was quite different. He told me that he has lifted a lot of guys. In fact he does it quite often. I was instantly hard, and I knew I had to meet him. Just one more thing I had to know. You see, I am not a small guy. I am 6’1 230lbs, so most guys say that I am too heavy or too big to lift. When I told him my stats, he told me that he has lifted much bigger guys than me before. He said if we ever met, my feet would not touch the ground. That set me over the edge. I felt wet spot on my boxer briefs. . When you are online, you can be whoever you want to be, You could say you have blond hair and blues eyes and 6’4. When, in reality you have brown hair, and brown eyes, and no taller than 5’6. So Tyler and I decided to meet after several weeks of messages back an forth. I did not want to get my hopes up if he was not for real. We decided to meet up at a coffee house in town, and see where things went from there. He never told me his stats, but promised he was strong enough to make my dreams come true. I got to the coffee house a little bit early. I sat by a window overlooking the city street. I saw several people walking in and out while I was waiting. There was one guy that I saw I was sure was Tyler, but as I was about ready to say something, he smiled and then sat down next to a woman. I waited for 20 minutes, but there was no sign that Tyler was going to show. As I was about ready to leave, the door opens and in walks the biggest bodybuilder I have ever seen. My mouth dropped almost to the floor. This guy must have been 6’8 at least 300lbs, and not a single ounce of fat on him. When he saw my face, with my mouth wide open, he knew I was the one he was looking for. He smiled at me, and said “you must be Chip”. My parents gave me that name as they said I was a “chip” off the old block. “Tyler?” “The one and only” “Wow…” (Wow? You meet the man of your dreams, and all you can say is “WOW!!”) Tyler smiles again and looks down at me. He walks closer to me and I can feel the heat coming from his body. As he stands right in front me, he puts his hands under my armpits and just lifts me up so we are face to face. People are watching this giant man lifting another large man like he weighed nothing at all. I am still speachless. He wisperred in my ear “this is what you wanted isn’t it?” He continued to hold me in the air, my feet dangling off the ground. He this starts to lift me higher so I am about to touch the ceiling. I can’t believe this is happening to me. “Man…umm…umm… Tyler laughs because he know that he has me right where he wants me. “I told you that while you are with me, your feet would not touch the floor. Are you ok with that?” How could I not be? I am in the arms of my dream man, biggest man I have ever seen and manhandling me like a small child. “Are you ready to go?” “Go where?” I said “I got us a room at the hotel down the street.” We have the whole place to ourselves without a single person to bother us.” My feet are still off the ground at this point. He shifts me to one arm, pulls out his wallet with the other and orders a Caramel Latte to go. He doesn’t even care that people were watching, I was his little plaything. As we are waiting for his latte, he started talking to me. “I can’t wait to show you what I can do for you!” I was rock hard, and was poking into his side. He smiles, reaches down and flicks my cock and says “You think that you are hard now, wait until I get you to the room!” He adjusts me again and this time throws me over his shoulder so my face was in front and had a good view if his chest and abs. He grabs his coffee and walks out the door. As we are walking down the street, Tyler is trying to make small talk with me bent over his shoulder like this is a normal thing for him. He asked me how long I have had this fetish. I told him “as long as I can remember.” “Have you ever been manhandled like this?” “Um…only in my dreams. I am usually too big for most guys, but you lift me as I am only a child to you. Aren’t you tired yet Tyler?” “Are you kidding, you are so light, if we weren’t talking, I would forget you were up there! By the way, how does it feet to be almost 7 feet off the ground over a giant shoulder?” “Well to be honest, this walk is causing me to get nauteous being almost upside down.” “Oh man, I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. How about I put you on my shoulders to ride the rest of the way. Without waiting for a response, I felt myself being pulled off of his shoulder and down his arm. He flexed his bicep and my body bouncing up and down until he moved his arm forward, grabbing my armpit with the other arm, I was dangling in the air as he held me up with one arm. The arm that I was riding on just moments before, clamped onto my right armpit. Without warning, up I went to sit on his shoulders. “How is that little guy?” “Much better sir” “please, you don’t have to call me sir, I am your friend Tyler.” For some reason I felt safe with Tyler. I never felt threatened. I felt like he was my protector. I wanted to be in his arms forever. Normally I would be self concious about people stairing at me, but I didn’t even think about it. All I could think about was Tyler manhandling me like a 100lb kid. As we got close to the entrance to the hotel, he reached up and grabbed me to lower me off of his shoulders. He held me to his side again as he did at the coffee house with one arm and me to the side, like a mother would carry a young child. That is what I was to him, a young child. We walked through the lobby towards the elevator. Tyler looked over at me and gave me a great big smile, kissed me on my lips ever so gently. “are you ready for the real fun to begin?” I looked at him with shock in my eyes. “The real fun?” He laughed. “This is only a glimps of what these arms are capable of. The good stuff is yet to come!” He swiped his card to the room and opened the door. He swung me around so he was now carrying me in cradle hold. “I want to make sure I carry you the proper was across the threshold. Your life will never be the same after tonight my son”. He carried me like a groom would carry his bride into the room, and for the first time, he placed me on the bed. As he stood up, he said to me “Now remember, your feet are not to touch the floor while I am with you, so stay where you are.” Then he walked away “don’t forget…:” and walked out of the room. To be continued…
  13. 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!"
  14. Dork to Beast, Finale

    Once classes started, Danny realized just how much he stood out in the Chemical Engineering department. He outweighed even the biggest of the guys by more than 200lbs of muscle. He saw how they looked at him, some with awe, some with feigned disgust. He was used to the disgust from high school, but now, he reveled in the awe. He realized right away that the TA of one of his labs was one of the awe-struck. The guy was a grad student, so he wasn't much older than Danny, andDanny saw how he looked at him, sneaking furtive glances whenever he could. Danny played on that awe. He stayed after one of the labs ended, because he had a plan. He was hoping that the TA would help him figure out what was in the Black Russian supps that Ivan was getting from eastern Europe. When Danny approached him, Ted, the TA, could barely speak. Danny introduced himself and put out his hand. When they shook, Danny's big muscle paw completely enveloped the TA's soft little hand. The grad student was about 5'5", 140lbs. When Danny grinned down at him, the little guy's knees gave out a little. Danny propped him up against the lab table. Then he got right to the point, pulling out a black pill and asking him how hard it would be to figure out what was in it. The TA took the pill and looked it over. "Probably not very hard," he said. "If I used the mass spectrometer, it would break it down to its components. I'm not supposed to use the equipment for things like that though." "What if we snuck into the lab after classes?" Danny flexed his 24" arm. "We could spend as much time in the lab as you want." The TA gulped hard. "I don't know," he said nervously. Danny, bouncing his 72" chest under his tight tee, said "I'd let you touch." The grad student almost fainted. He looked around the room. "You want to do it tonight?" he said. "I can probably snag the keys from the professor's office." His heart was pounding thru his chest at the thought of being with Danny alone in the lab. "Sounds good," said Danny, running his hand thru his hair, causing his huge arm to bunch up into a big ball. "Oh my god," groaned the young grad student. Danny's powerful pheromones wafted out from his armpit. "You have a poser?" asked the TA, tentatively, bracing himself against the lab table. "Yep," said Danny, reaching out and rubbing his hand along Ted's thin neck. "Would you wear it?" asked Ted, his eye twitching, and goosebumps running up and down his limbs. "Sure. What time tonight?" "Eleven o'clock. The last lab ends at ten." "Ok. Then I'll lift from eight to ten thirty, to maximize my pump." "You're not pumped now?..." The TA's boner was tenting out his white lab coat. "God, no. Just wait till you see. Everything will be inches bigger. I can bloat my quads from 34" to 38" after just two sets of heavy squatting." "....38 inches..." stammered Ted. "Yep. What is that, like ten inches bigger than your waist?" "Yess...." Danny grinned. "I'll see you tonight at eleven, then. Don't pop one out till then, little man." He turned and walked away, as Ted stared in amazement at the size of Danny's back, shoulders, neck, ass, and legs. ... == ... Dwayne's fight night was at a medium sized auditorium downtown. A lot of the guys fighting were amateurs like him, but there were a couple sanctioned fights scheduled for later on the ticket. Dwayne's fight was first. It was his opponent's first real fight too. Dwayne sized him up as they stepped into the octagon they'd set up for the night. The guy was in his early twenties, good build, but nothing overly impressive. He looked like the kind of guy who'd played sports in high school but was never a standout, but had a lot of spunk. He looked a little nervous, especially as he saw Dwayne, who's muscularity was at least 5 times more dense than his. Dwayne didn't have to clench his abs for them to stand out as a taut 8pak. Dwayne saw his opponent looking over at a young woman in the audience. She was a tiny thing, about his age, and looked about 7 months pregnant. The wife, figured Dwayne. He could tell she wasn't thrilled about hubby getting into the ring against him. The fight got started, and it was quickly obvious to everyone that it was a big mismatch. The guy's punches bounced off Dwayne, and Dwayne felt nothing, so he let the guy pound on him for awhile. Then he hit back. His jabs were many times faster than his opponent's, too, but he took care not to punch too hard. He could see the wife flinch every time he hit him. He had to end this one quickly, so he knocked the guy to the ground, got on him, and put him into a choke hold. He pulled the guy close into him, and whispered in his ear as he tightened the choke ever so gently. "Do yourself a favor, and give up fighting, man. You're just gonna get hurt. A guy like me could mess you up bad. Go get a regular job, support your wife and kid." With that, Dwayne tightened his grip just enough to make the pain real to the guy. He turned the guy's face so that he was looking at his wife, and could see her concern. The guy was starting to panic. Dwayne was so strong that it was surreal. He easily flipped the guy around and put him in an arm bar, forcing him to tap instantly. Dwayne helped the guy to his feet, and they shook hands. Dwayne looked over at the wife, and saw the relief on her face. When their eyes met, Dwayne winked at her, and she felt a wave of lust race thru her hormonally flushed body. He was the hottest man she'd ever seen, and she knew he had saved her husband from any real damage, so she blamed her feelings for him on that. Meanwhile, her husband came over to her from the octagon, and hugged her. "I'm done with the fighting," he said, and the wife gave a small wave of thanks to Dwayne. He nodded back. Then he noticed Mr K sitting a couple rows behind her, the same look of lust on his face. This made Dwayne horny, but his gym manager, who was now his fight manager, was talking to him. "That wasn't much of a challenge for you, was it?" he said, laughing. "Nah, man. Just got me all riled up, is all." Dwayne was still looking over at Mr K, hungrily. "Well, I might have good news for you. A guy dropped out of one of the sanctioned fights that's coming up next week. They need a replacement. I volunteered you." "Yeah?" said Dwayne, suddenly interested. "Who'm I fighting?" "This guy Tommy Bell. He's in your weight class, and is 11-0." "Oh yeh? So I'll be breaking his undefeated record?" "You could be. He's pretty tough though. Has been in and out of prison, and has won every fight by KO." "Next week, huh? Gives me time to get even stronger and faster," said Dwayne. He was getting hard just thinking about beating a guy with an 11-0 record. His muscles tightened and rippled in anticipation of what he would do. His manager got goosebumps watching Dwayne's body improve as they stood there. "I gotta go for now, man," Dwayne said to him. Then he made his way over to Mr K, leaned over him and whispered to him, "Let's go somewhere, Mr K. I need some sweet relief from that mouth of yours." Mr K couldn't get up fast enough. He followed Dwayne to the backstage area, where Dwayne broke into an office by snapping the door handle off and forcing the door open with his shoulder. "This oughta do," he said, leading Mr K over to a sofa that lined the wall. As soon as Mr K sat down, Dwayne pulled down his trunks and his big schlong flopped out. He stroked himself a couple of time. "Fuck, I need it bad," he said, as he guided his big dickhead into Mr K's eager mouth. "Did you see me fight that guy down?" Dwayne asked. Mr K nodded as he sucked. "That was just child's play, man. Wait till next week. Fuck, you got a good mouth, Mr K. Funny, cause I remember growing up, how you were always dating those big tittied women, and you were all macho and shit. Now look at you, sucking on me like a newborn calf. You like it, too, don't ya?" Mr K nodded again, still sucking Dwayne's thick knob. He couldn't believe it himself. He'd always been into women. But he couldn't resist Dwayne. And he couldn't get enough of him. He understood addiction now. All he wanted was to service him, to touch his body, smell him, taste him. And Dwayne knew it. "You wanna see me fight again next week?" Dwayne said. "Maybe if you're real good to me, I'll let you come." He flexed his arms over Mr K. "Aw, yeah," he said. "I got a huge load about to fill you up, been feeling my balls churning it out all day." Dwayne tilted his head back, and bucked into Mr K's face. Mr K had never wanted anything more than Dwayne's thick muscle paste. And Dwayne gave it to him, spewing so hard he had to put his hand on the back of Mr K's head to keep his mouth in place. Mr K did his best to swallow the hot nectar the god before him. He did pretty good, considering how much volume there was. Dwayne pulled his head off him. "You sure are hungry for this aren't ya?" Dwayne chuckled, remembering how Mr K had always thought of him as such a dork. Dwayne lifted Mr K up to his face and kissed him. He liked the taste of his jiz in Mr K's mouth, it tasted like cotton candy. No wonder the old guy like it. Mr K almost fainted from the hot young buck tonguing his mouth. Dwayne thought about how he'd gone from goofy dork to supremely handsome and supremely strong. He kissed Mr K deeper, the older man's feet dangling off the ground. Dwayne chuckled to himself as he felt Mr K cum in his pants. His own hardon had gotten even harder. He rested Mr K down on it, and it supported him in the air. "Goddam," said Dwayne after he broke the kiss. "I better head out for tonight, before I decide to ride your ass into the next century." He lifted Mr K up and set him on the desk of the office they were in. As he got dressed, he said, "I'll see you next week at the fight." Then he headed out. Mr K watched him leave. His heart pounded with lust. Next week? Could he last that long without a Dwayne fix? ...===... That night at the lab, Ted was unable to completely decipher what the small black pill was made up of. "We'll have to do more tests," he told Danny, fearful that it would mean that his massive student wouldn't showoff his huge body for him. But Danny didn't care. He was pumped to the max, and was aching to flex anyway. He sat Ted down on a lab chair before stripping down to his poser. "No touching yourself until you find the formula," he said to Ted. Then he flexed his arm an inch away from Ted's nose. It rose up over 25". "Kiss it," said Danny. Ted swallowed hard, then put his lips on the mountain of muscle in his face. Sweat ran down from Danny's deep pits. He smelled of gym and muscle and his own thick musk. "Stop for a second," cried Ted, pulling back from the beast-sized arm. He had to close his eyes for a bit. His heart was beating so fast. He was just starting to get hard, yet he'd almost cum. "Oh, there's no stopping this now, bud," said Danny. "Touch it." And he grabbed Ted's hand on put it on his arm. "Oh god," muttered Ted. Then Danny grabbed the seat of the lab chair, and curled it off the ground until they were face to face. "Oh my fucking god," said Ted. Danny curled him in the chair for reps. Then he sat him down and flexed a double bi shot. Ted's eyes were wide opened now, although one eyelid was twitching at the sight of Danny's massiveness so close to him. He was leaking pre, and it took everything he had not to touch himself. Then Danny turned around, and spread his back. His vast, grand prairie sized back, rolling with thick slabs of muscle that tapered down to his beefy lower back, padded with striations of symmetrical muscle. He made them pop out in a hard flex, and Ted came. There was no stopping it. Ted had no control. His muscle lust took him zooming into a zone of euphoria. Danny spread his back out farther, and Ted fainted, sliding right out of the chair. Danny turned and caught him right before he hit the floor. "Dude, wake up man," said Danny, slapping Ted's face lightly. Ted woke up quickly and found himself looking into Danny's concerned eyes. "Wow... Could you just hold me for a second?" Danny wrapped him up in his huge arms and lifted him up in his hug. Ted was in muscle paradise, swathed up in Danny's tree trunk arms. He never wanted it to end. "I'll figure out the formula for you," he said. "I know you will, Teddy. Right now, I gotta go though." "Where?" "My roommate's waiting for me for a dose of Danny batter. He thinks it's making him stronger and faster." "Is it?" "Yep," said Danny, unwrapping his arms from around Ted and setting him back on the chair. "I'll talk to you later." That's one lucky roommate, thought Ted, as he watched Danny get dressed, and head out of the lab. And that must be one potent chemical, if it can transfer its effects thru Danny's 'batter'. That night, Ted contacted a friend of his who was working on a PhD in Genetics. He enlisted his help in breaking down the little black pill. ...=... The night of Dwayne's next fight came up fast. But he'd had time to have a tailor-made suit custom made to fit him real snug, just like he'd seen McGregor wear at his press conference with Mayweather. Dwayne wore it into the ring, and the crowd went wild. His manager had told him that this Tommy guy didn't want the fight because Dwayne was still a nobody. But then Tommy's manager reminded him that he wouldn't get paid if he didn't fight, so he agreed. He figured it'd be easy money. He'd never seen Dwayne. He would soon though. As Tommy made his way to the ring, Dwayne started flexing in his shiny new suit. The shoulder seams to his jacket started ripping almost immediately. Slow at first, but then faster as he crunched into a most muscular. Dwayne flexed harder. Buttons popped off like bullets. His jacket split up the back. He ripped the shredding jacket off him and tossed the pieces aside. He flexed his arms and made the sleeves of his dress shirt rip as his peaks tore thru the fabric like it was tissue paper. Then he tore his shirt apart like the Hulk, exposing his rockhard torso. As Tommy watched from the apron, befuddled, the crowd was going apeshit. Tommy's slow synapses were trying to process what he was seeing. He'd spent time in juvvie as a teenager, and had been in and out of prison a couple of times, but he'd never seen anyone so jacked up as Dwayne. Tommy stepped into the ring, pretty sure he could handle anyone. He was 11-0, after all. His entourage didn't look so sure. Just like in his first fight, Dwayne noticed Tommy look over at a young woman in the audience. There was a different energy to this couple, though. Dwayne saw a look of fear behind her eyes, the same look he used to get before school, when he knew Tip would be waiting for him. Then he noticed the bruises on her upper arms. He looked at Tommy, and he didn't need to see the skull tattoo on his neck to realize that this goon beat on his girlfriend. Dwayne felt the heat building up inside him. This cocky tool was going to be taught a lesson. When the fight started, Dwayne let Tommy hit him a couple of times without trying to block the blows. Tommy was more confused than ever. His powerful jabs didn't seem to hurt his opponent in the least. So he whirled at him with his roundhouse kick, hitting him right in the side. Dwayne didn't flinch. It was like he had on Batman's mech suit, but it was just his own dense rockhard muscle. Tommy felt like he'd broken his shin bone. He hobble back in pain, and looked over to his corner, where his manager just shrugged and urged him to go back at him. But Dwayne was already coming at him, and threw a jab of his own, hitting Tommy right in his sternum. The jab was so strong and sharp, it knocked the wind out of Tommy. He staggered back against the cage. Dwayne was on him in a flash, picking him up and throwing him to the ground. Then he got on top of him and rode him around the octagon. Tommy had never felt such controlling strength. None of the moves he tried to escape Dwayne's holds had any effect at all. And each hold was more painful than the last. Tommy was in a panic to get away from him, even for a second, but Dwayne was having none of it. He worked him and worked him, then would pick him up and slam him back to the ring, then get right back on top of him. Finally, he put him in a rear naked choke. He leaned into Tommy's ear and said, "This is what happens to guys who hurt women." He maneuvered Tommy so he was facing away from the ref. Then he pulled on Tommy's arm until it popped out of his shoulder joint. Dwayne had one hand over Tommy's mouth, to muffle the scream. Tommy tried to tap out, but Dwayne had his hands trapped so tightly, he couldn't move them. "It's gonna hurt even more, going back in," Dwayne said to him. And he was right. He shoved the ball of Tommy's arm bone back into joint, and Tommy almost passed out. Dwayne flipped Tommy over on his back and mounted him, bending Tommy's ankles up behind his ears. Dwayne leaned into him hard, folding him almost flat on the mat. Again, he whispered in his ear, "If you hurt your girlfriend again, I'll come after you. And it will make what's happening here seem like a picnic." Dwayne pinned him down harder. "Then I'll make you change your first name to Tinker. How ya think 'Tinker Bell' will go over on the fight circuit?" Tommy was drenched in sweat, and gasping for air as Dwayne pressed against his ribcage with his superhuman strength. Then Dwayne stood up over him. He grabbed Tommy around the throat with one hand, then lifted him off the ground and into the air. He walked around the ring holding Tommy up, while flexing his other arm. The crowd was in a frenzy, even as the ref warned Dwayne about the choke hold. Dwayne looked at the ref, then dropped Tommy to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Dwayne jumped onto him, wrapped his legs around his torso, and pulled Tommy's right arm into an arm bar. Pain seared thru Tommy's radial nerve. This time, Dwayne let Tommy tap out. Then he released the hold and stood up. The ref took his arm and raised it in victory. Dwayne flexed into his most-muscular pose for the crowd, as it roared in approval. Tommy looked up at his vanquisher. He'd never been turned onto a man before, yet, despite his physical pain, he felt himself getting aroused as Dwayne's superior, muscular body flexed over him. Tommy would never have sex again without thinking of Dwayne in order to finish. ...==... A couple of days later, Danny texted Dwayne to meet him at the park. He had something important to tell him. When Danny pulled up, Dwayne was already there, wearing just his fighting shorts, and doing one-finger pull-ups at the fitness trail. "Hey, Bruiser," said Danny as he walked up to him. "I hear the fight went well." "Short and sweet, just like they'll all be. I'm switching to parkour." "Oh yeah? You gonna be leaping over tall buildings in a single bound?" "Don't laugh," said Dwayne, dropping off the pull-up bar. Veins ran up and down his arms, across his delts, and into his chest. "How's Jake?" "Hot as hell. And he loves it when I breed him." "As he should. You still on the wrestling team?" "Nah, I gave that up. Who's gonna beat these?" said Danny, flexing his arms. "They're peaking up to 26 inches now. "Bearhug me with them," challenged Dwayne. Danny grinned, then stepped up to Dwayne, and wrapped his massive arms around him. Then he squeezed. "Damn you are solid," said Danny, as he hoisted Dwayne off the ground. "Hell yeah, I am," said Dwayne, kissing Danny on his 24" neck. "Squeeze harder." Danny wrapped his arms around him harder. He'd be crushing most guy like a tube of toothpaste with the force he was applying, but Dwayne seemed unaffected. "And now I know why," said Danny. He liked how much strength he could use on Dwayne. It turned him on. That, and Dwayne's sucking on his thick bull neck. "Those grad students I told you about? They found out why Ivan's stuff works so well." "Yeah?" said Dwayne. Then he started sucking on Danny's earlobe. "Harder, man." Danny squeezed harder, his forearms bulging to 19 inches. "Yeah. It completely shuts down the myostatin gene and allows for unfettered growth of muscle and strength." "No shit? Can they replicate it?" "Yeah, they think they can." Danny dug his clamped fists deeper into Dwayne's lower back. "Why you think I'm not slabbing on mass like you?" asked Dwayne. "I'm not sure, but you're at least as strong as I am, and I'm pretty sure you've got other skills coming on strong." "Yeah, you're right. What's Ivan think about these guys making the stuff?" Both of them were sweating now, making it harder to grip onto Dwayne's granite muscle. They were both hard. "He's happy he won't have to go back to Poland anytime soon." "I bet...Harder, man, I'm starting to feel it now." Danny grunted and squeezed. Dwayne arched back in the bearhug. "Oh yeh, bro, that's is power!" They turned their heads toward each other and kissed. When they broke off the kiss, Dwayne said, "I've been hooking up with your dad." "Yeah, I know," said Danny, and then he kissed Dwayne again. "I've seen him getting more muscular, just like Jack. I caught him flexing in the mirror the other day." "I know. It's hot as fuck." "Dad thinks you can read his mind, maybe even control his thoughts." "Maybe a little. I think it's more the power of suggestion. Although sometimes, when I want his tongue to go to a specific spot, it goes right there. It's like I'm guiding it with my mind." "That's wild." "I know. Hey, you squeezing as hard as you can yet?" "Almost," said Danny. "Go full bore, I wanna try something." Danny tightened his grip around Dwayne and squeezed him in with his huge sweaty arms. Both of them grunted. Then Dwayne, with his arms trapped to his sides, started pushing outward with them. At first nothing happened, but then Dwayne felt Danny's arms open up a little from the pressure. Dwayne pushed harder, and Danny felt his grip slipping. Danny's neck veins popped out as he tried to maintain his hold, but Dwayne's arm strength pushed his hands apart. Dwayne was now able to move his arms, and he slid his hands up to the crook of Danny's elbows, and broke his bearhug. Dwayne's feet hit the ground, and he stepped back out of Danny's hold. "Dude, geezus," said Danny, huffing, his thick torso red and welted from holding Dwayne so hard. "I can't believe it either. You're so huge." Dwayne's torso was also reddened and welted. Sweat rolled off of him. "And you got freak strength, man." "I know. And I can feel it growing. Follow me." Dwayne led Danny over to an old wrought iron fence that bordered one side of the park. It lined the property of an old mansion that was on the other side. Dwayne went up to the fence, grabbed a railing in each hand, and ripped a four foot section of the fence out of the ground, and yanked it free of the rest of the fence. He held it out at arm's length and began to press in on it. Cords of muscle popped out all over his forearms and delts. Striations rippled across his chest. He bent over slightly as the iron began to fold in like an accordion, and his lats flared out with his effort. The four foot section soon became a two foot section. He bent over farther, and his abs crunched out like big cobblestones, as the fencing bunched up on itself like a cheap window blind until it was compressed to one foot. Dwayne lifted it into the air like a trophy. Then he tossed it to Danny, who caught it one-handed. He wrapped his fingers around the end pieces and pulled. The wrought iron began to open back up, creaking loudly as it did. Danny pulled and pulled, stretching the iron like taffy, his huge arms and chest swelling, until it became a five foot section of misshapen metal. "You ain't weak, either," Dwayne said to him. "Bro... I feel like...." Danny said, holding the iron fence in one arm and curling it slow and hard, watching his biceps swell to 27 inches. "Breaking into the mansion?" "Yeah....and then..." "Fucking each others' brains out?" "You reading my mind?" "Nah, I'm just thinking the same way. And I want to..." "Fuck in every room of the place?" "Shit, yeah. Now who's reading who?" The two of them walked thru the opening in the fence. Danny jammed the twisted up section back into place the best he could. They headed up the hill toward the empty house. The front gate had a For Sale sign on it. "You know what we should do?" said Danny, as they climbed the front steps. "Turn this place into a private gym," said Dwayne. "Fuck, you are reading my mind, you freak," said Danny. Dwayne laughed. "I know, but it is an awesome idea. We can get your dad to invest in it. And we'll only let in geeks and dorks. Build them up huge and powerful. Maybe even psychic." "Exactly. And Ted thinks they can make an even stronger formula. Imagine what could happen." "Dude. It'll be like Hogwarts for future muscle monsters." They kissed again on the front porch. Then Danny got ready to slam his basketball-sized shoulder into the front door. "Wait," said Dwayne. He grabbed the realtor's box that was hanging on the front doorknob between his thumb and index finger and crushed it until the key fell out. "You got finesse," said Danny. "Just don't wanna damage the goods," said Dwayne, opening the door. "Let's go see the future." And the two of them stepped inside.
  15. Rick Moves You

    A piece from my past...which I'll now follow up with a delicious encounter in a part two, if you like Rick...let me know!? I needed help moving. New job, new area and all. I didn't have a lot of money but wasn't about to kill myself carrying my meager, but heavy items to my new walk-up. I checked the old yellow pages I found on the stoop. And there it was, an answer to...prayer? "Rick Moves You," was the company name, with the by-line of, "A little cash buys a lot of muscle." I appreciated the double-entendre of the company name, even if it was just wishful thinking. I called. Rick answered.He was available, he said, with what sounded like a smile. Another tease? I was in a town known for beautiful gay men. Perhaps I'd be lucky. He sounded young, but definitely of the jock, athletic tone. That is, if a voice can really tell you anything. After all, mine is misleading and I regularly get called Ms. on the phone. "How many will you be bringing? I'll have a couple of beers for each of you ready. It shouldn't take more than 30-45 minutes to get all the stuff up and I'm glad to take an end of the sofa if you'll knock off the price a little.""Rick moves you, baby," he chortled. "I got this. We'll be done in 30 minutes and you needn't break a sweat."OK - hold up! That's ridiculous! Cocky in the ad - cocky on the phone. I just knew I was setting myself up for failure here, but I decided to be less cautious and put my money and hopes on the line. He said he'd be here in ten as he lived nearby.I was waiting on the stairs when he came running up the street. Not a jogging pace, mind you, running. Like in a race. He was fast. He was blonde and actually balding a bit. You know, when the hair is receding a touch and makes you look like a testosterone farmer. That's right - I actually wrote 'testosterone farmer.' I'll explain.This is the guy who's face has seen some sun, with a few tiny wrinkles at the corner of his eyes because he's a smiler. Farmers are smilers. His teeth are as close to bright white as looks natural - but they aren't perfectly straight. His significant arms are lightly bulging the end of their T-shirt sleeves and the tanned skin is covered with a golden hair that's only visible at the right angles of light. The testosterone in his body makes those little hairs stand erect. They flow over the skin following the contours of the muscles. The perfect cup of the delts, swirling into the thin cord atop the triceps. You suddenly notice the forearms are ridiculous...like the size of the upper arm at certain angles...when he shakes your hand. The hands are rough but clean. His nails super short. He is about 6 ft 3. Whatever else he's packing...he's a testosterone farmer!Rick had to ask a second time where my stuff was, because I was amazed. I vaguely indicated a truck a few spaces down with an open back. He surveyed the items and said he'd start with the oversized easy chair my friend and I had struggled to load through doorways and downstairs in my hometown.He scooped up the chair even easier than I expected and turned toward the building, his eyes asking for directions. I stepped out of the way with the intention of grabbing a box or two to follow him up with when I noticed him hop the front steps two at a time with the easy chair overhead with the seat resting on his head and the back covering his back. I was looking for a glimpse of his arms raised above his head when I saw them. Ricky, (as I'd decided to call him for the next few weeks of masturbatory sessions), had a body part to compare with no other. Every ounce of his physical glory culminated in his calves!Those were lower legs. Oh, my God! I've never been a leg man - - but chalk me up permanently for dark meat! First off, the skin was THE shade of golden brown models usually paint themselves to get. The hair wasn't that kucky, too-long and pubic type. It was just so manly. So thick. Each individual hair looked like it could win a fight. They, too, like the arm hairs were SO erect. They weren't blonde. They were a nice, dark brown. It made me realize this kid would have a delicious bush. The skin had a tiny hint of sweat that caught the light and made the leg look so functional.You should have seen the chords that attached that mother of a calf into his shoe. Only then did I realize the shoe almost looked oversized for his height. Big shoe, big foot, big man. There were two or three parallel chords on each side of the leg that looked like tubes headed into the shoe.The calf looked, all at once, both super high on the leg...like he leaped steps all the time for work outs and altogether longer than any bunch of muscle should be on a leg. Seriously, this was like a biceps flexed on the back of his leg. It looked deep, thick, ripe. I wanted to bite it. To swat at it to feel the girth and the thickness and the glory. God, I wanted to cum on that leg.He turned at the doorway and asked if I was OK. I had subconsciously grabbed the railing to keep myself from moving closer and was actually rubbing myself a tad on said railing. (Come on, don't act like you've never done it.)I told him apartment 3B. He smiled and said, "Cum on." Well, he probably said, "Come on." I had one thing on my mind.I followed him quickly up the stairs. As the afternoon progressed, I followed him like a puppy. I watched those calves work. I know they could have carried Rick, my stuff, and me up the stairs without the assistance of his thighs if only the physiology worked that way. On one step, that magnificent calf would bunch like it was trying to squeeze OJ from itself. On another, it would lengthen and actually flex like it was going to shove the stair down a floor. I looked, more than once, for the dent I was sure would be left in the cement.The skin got darker, the sweat only a little more evident after several trips. I couldn't even hardly admire the abilities of the rest of his body man-handling my stuff because his calves were undeniably in charge of my focus...perhaps my being.And Rick knew it. He enjoyed it. Not in the way a nasty jerk does with a "look at me" attitude, but in a way that showed he liked being noticed and knew he'd be my dream for many a night.He even stopped once and said he had something in his shoe. He set my half-fridge on one landing and turned around to nearly bump into me. He sat down and I saw that sucker flex and bunch and grow - - very literally GROW as he sat and wrested off his shoe, removed the air that was in it, and returned it to his foot. I hadn't seen the calf from the front. The muscle came around and nearly connected in front of the shin bone. Even that bone looked muscular and could tighten. The columnar chords stood out on either side again. And then he rubbed his elfin' leg. Hell, I had to place a knee on the stairs to keep from collapsing. Those big, muscular hands massaging that gigantic, powerful leg. I had an obvious hard on and asked if he'd like a hand. He grinned. He declined. He stood up. He turned around. He grabbed my half-fridge. He flexed those bastards again. And again. One bunched, one stretched. I nearly climaxed in my pants. He finished his job with one more arm load. I paid the man. He waved and ran down the street with those calves screaming my name. Rick moved me.
  16. Dork to Beast, Pt 6

    When Danny moved into his dorm room, Jack had already been there for a couple days. Jack wasn't there when he arrived, so Danny did a little reorganizing. It didn't take him long. He moved the two twin beds together and made them one. Then he scooped all of Jack's clothes out of the closet and tossed them into a heap on the floor. He hung up the clothes he had brought, which were 3 stringer tanks and two pair of sweatpants. He put his UA briefs and a couple of posers into a drawer. He was done by the time Jack showed up. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Jack said, annoyed. "Hey, Roomie," said Danny with a big grin on his face. "You're not my....where's Tip?" Dwayne's sister had made good on her promise to switch Tip to another dorm without either of the jock buddies knowing about it. "Tip decided to move on," said Danny. He was shirtless, and his massive frame filled the small dorm room, making him look even bigger. "You're rooming with me now." He flexed his huge arm in the wall mirror that was next to the closet. Jack was stunned as Danny's peak rose up and up. "24+ inches," said Danny, squeezing his arm harder. "Looks bigger than your quad, little man." Jack gulped hard, seeing that huge arm. No wonder Danny could pile drive him all over the wrestling mats. "What are all my clothes doing on the floor?" asked Jack. "I need the whole closet," said Danny, as he continued to watch himself flex in the mirror. "You've only got a couple things in there!" cried Jack. "They need space to air out," Danny said, rolling his fists and watching his 18" forearms bunch up with ropey muscle. Despite his straightness, Jack started to chub up in his pants at the sight of his roommate's brute size. "Why are the beds pushed together??" asked Jack. "Dude, you think I'm gonna fit on one twin bed? Look at me. I need them both." Danny hit a latspread, and his wings flared out wider than the two beds together. "Where am I supposed to sleep?" "That's not my problem. Anyway, there's a nice pile of clothes in the corner, sleep on that." Danny heaved out his 68" chest, then leaned toward the mirror, and ran his fingers along the striations in his pecs. "Damn it," said Jack, pulling out his phone. In a flash, Danny grabbed Jack's wrist with his left hand and squeezed. Jack's knees almost buckled as he dropped the phone. Danny snagged the falling phone with his right hand, then he shoved it into the deep muscle crevice between his big pecs. The phone nearly disappeared into his cleavage. And when Danny flexed his chest, the phone did disappear into it. Then there was a muffled crunching sound as Jack's phone crumpled from the hard muscle compressing it together. Danny pulled the broken phone from between his mounded pectoral muscles and tossed it across the room. "What are you doing this for, man?" asked Jack, his heart pounding hard, both from fear and from awe. Danny walked into Jack, pushing him back to the wall. He grabbed Jack in a one-handed choke hold, and slid him up the wall until the were eye to eye. Danny leaned into Jack's face until their noses were an inch apart. "Funny," he said, "I used to ask you the same thing." When Danny saw the puzzled look on Jack's face, he said, "You don't remember me?" He leaned in closer, their noses nearly touching. Jack shook his head No. "Danny the Dork doesn't ring a bell for ya?" Jack stared hard into Danny's eyes. He choked out "Dude...no way. That kid was a fat butterball....." But then Jack realized, the face did seem familiar. The jaw had squared off and bulged with muscle. The brow was more pronounced. It sat atop a 24" column of neck muscle. But still. "Dude, no fucking way. How?" "I started lifting," Danny said simply. "You like the look, Jackie? I got 200lbs plus on you now, all of it muscle." "I'm not into it, man," gurgled Jack, starting to squirm. "Oh yeah?" Danny pressed his 8pak abs into Jack's hardon and pinning him more firmly to the wall. "I'm feeling something that says different." "You're choking me, dude," said Jack, trying to change the subject. But he couldn't help bucking against Danny's thick ab wall. The firmness of it felt so good. Danny pushed against him harder. "Dude, I could snap your neck like pretzel stick," said Danny. This made Jack even harder. "I did it 'cause I liked you," choked out Jack. This made Danny let go of his throat hold. Jack stayed pinned against the wall by Danny's chest and abs. "What?" asked Danny. "I liked you, man. I couldn't hang out with you because, you know how it is. So I just teased you a little, that's all." "You call pissing in my shampoo and telling everyone about it is 'teasing'?" said Danny, darkly. He pressed Jack harder into the cinder block wall. "What?" Jack struggled to think. "Oh man, that wasn't me. That was Tip. He just told everyone I did it. He was always doing shit like that. I liked you. I always felt bad for you when you got picked last for every team in gym class. It was either you or that other kid, what was his name?" "Dwayne." "Yeh, him. I picked on you to make you tougher, 'cause that's what my dad always did to me, told me it'd make me a better man. And look how it worked, Danny. I'm a state champ wrestler, I haven't lost a match since freshman year. And now you're a massive muscle beast. Look at the size of you." And with that, Jack put his hands on Danny's bullneck and started groping it. "God man, the strength in your neck alone. Fuck. I bet I can't even choke you." Jack wrapped his hands around Danny's neck and pressed into it with his thumbs. They didn't dent into the muscle at all. "Geezus, man," said Jack. "I got a real strong grip, but it's like I'm pushing on marble." Danny swelled with pride, and his dick swelled too, as Jack tried to choke him harder, with no effect. Danny flexed his neck, and felt Jack's fingers being pushed apart. Farther and farther apart as his neck swelled and his traps rose up and merged with it like an ox yoke. "Dude, your power...." Jack was getting harder too. He leaned into Danny's face and kissed him. Danny was taken aback, but he kissed back. The two of them kissed hard and long. Jack's precum made his dick slide up and down Danny's hard abs more and more smoothly. He groaned as he felt how muscular Danny's tongue was as they French kissed deeper and deeper. When Jack finally broke the kiss, he put his hands on Danny's soccer ball sized delts and said, "Man, make me your bitch. I never done it with a dude before, but I want you to breed me with your size and power. I want it in me." "I hated your guts for so long," said Danny. "No you didn't," said Jack. "You wanted me, just like everybody else. Look at me, man, I'm perfect. And look at you now, you're beyond perfect. You're a fucking god, dude. You got muscle on your muscles. You make me look scrawny." Jack started groping Danny's lats. "Oh man, you're a god..." Danny's heart was beating so hard that it made his gums throb. Holding Jack like this, so close, he realized that the cocky jock was right. He had always wanted him. He lusted for him as much as he hated him. And now he had him in his arms. The emotions were so confusing, but he was so turned on he could barely control himself. He had to fuck something, why not this perfect physical specimen that he could flop around like a rag doll? "Yeah?" said Danny. "You want me to pop your cherry, Jackie?" Jack almost came. "Yeh, man. All my life, I've been the one in control, the alpha. Take that from me, man. Own me. Bruise me up like you did at practice, only deeper." Danny picked Jack up, spun him around, and bent him over on the desktop. He pulled Jack's shorts down around his ankles. Then he pulled off his own shorts, then his jockstrap. His dick popped out, bigger and thicker than Jack's by about half again, his big veins pulsing as they pumped him full staff. He wasn't sure he bought Jack's whole story, but it didn't matter. He was going to fuck him with the full power of his huge glutes and thick tree trunk quads. He spit in his hand and lubed himself up with it. His dick was so sensitive now, he could stroked himself all day. But instead, he scooped up his precum and slathered Jack's hot bubble butt with it. Then he popped his big helmet into the wrestling jock's tight hole. "Fuckkk," both of them groaned out at the same time. Danny sank in deeper. And deeper. Down to the root. Then he started bucking rhythmically, grunting with each buck. Jacked gripped onto the desk, which banged into the doorframe over and over again, harder and harder, until finally, the frame of the door cracked when one of Danny's powerful thrusts smashed the desk into it. Danny lifted Jack off the desk and started air fucking him, his huge powerful arms pumping Jack's 200lbs body up and down on his dick. Up and down he went, while Danny's 415lbs of rock hard beef powerfucked his hard jock ass. The temperature in the small dorm room had soared from their body heat, and sweat poured off both of them, dripping onto the floor. Danny slammed Jack back down on the desk to finish inside of him. He pinned him down with one big hand in the middle of Jack's back. Jack had never felt such complete pleasure. Such total lack of control. Such freedom. Being bred like a bitch, and he loved it. "Danny. Danny. Danny," he said, over and over, as Danny rammed past his prostate again and again, his sweat dripping off his chin and his pecs, all over Jack's back. "Godddam you mutherfucking hot little sonofabitch........" Danny roared as he came deep inside Jack. "Aww geeezus fuckk Danny," moaned Jack, as he busted all over the desk from the feeling of pressure from Danny's big club inside him, and the hot muscle batter filling him up. They stayed the way they were for awhile, both breathing deep and heavy. Danny finally slid out of Jack, and even that feeling almost overwhelmed Jack with pleasure. He stayed on the desktop while Danny picked up one of Jack's shirts from the pile of clothes and wiped his dick off with it. He tossed the shirt aside, then picked up one of Jack's tee shirts and wiped his own sweat off with it. Then he used the tee to wipe off Jack's back. Then he lifted Jack up in his arms like a babe, and laid him on the clothes. "Looks like it's going to be a fun semester," said Danny, flexing his 24+ biceps, fresh sweat rolling down his thick lats as he stood over Jack. "You're telling me," sighed Jack, sinking into his pile of clothes. -- . . -- -- . . -- Meanwhile, back at home, Dwayne was warming up for his fight night by jogging thru the park. He didn't have on his weighted vest, so he felt like he could almost take off and fly, he was feeling so strong. It was going to be Dwayne's first fight, but his gym manager had lined him up with a guy who was 11-0. "If you beat this guy," the manager told him, "you're on your way." Dwayne laughed and said, "Oh, I'm on my way already." As he jogged out of the park and onto the street, he noticed a guy on a bike headed in his direction, riding on the wrong side of the road. Dwayne realized in a second that it was Tip, his former tormentor. "I guess he didn't get his car fixed yet," Dwayne chuckled to himself. He couldn't believe he was running into him again. Dwayne purposefully headed right towards him. When Tip looked up and saw the shirtless Dwayne coming at him, he started to wobble wildly on his bike. He veered up and over the curb, and ran right into a telephone pole, falling off the bike onto the sidewalk. Dwayne sauntered over to him. "You should be more careful, dude," said Dwayne. "And you should wear your helmet tighter. Look, it fell right off." Dwayne leaned over and picked up the bike helmet. "Leave me alone," said Tip, rubbing his scuffed up knee. "Funny, I remember saying that to you a bunch of times in high school," said Dwayne, rolling the helmet around in his hands. "You never listened. And now, your helmet is all busted up." Tip looked at the helmet, and said, "No it isn't, it's barely scratched." "Look a little closer," said Dwayne. He leaned over and put the helmet in Tip's face. Then he snapped it in two with his bare hands. "How about that? Where'd you get this cheap thing?" he said, tossing the broken pieces aside. "Fuck," said Tip. "And your bike...Man, it's completely mangled." "No it isn't," said Tip. "The front tire's just a little bent. I could probably still ride it." "You're not looking close enough," said Dwayne. He picked the bike up, and every muscle on his rippling torso tightened up as he bent the frame in two. "See," he said, "the tires are touching each other. Let me try and fix it." He bent the bike frame back and forth a couple of times, until it snapped apart in his hands. "I hope you didn't pay much for this cheap thing." "Fuck man, I paid $800 dollars for that just last week. Fuck. You gotta pay me back." "Oh, I'm paying you back alright." Dwayne looked Tip over. "You didn't break any bones in your fall, did ya? 'Cause I'm seeing some broken bones." Dwayne leaned over and grabbed Tip's upper arm with his left hand. He lifted Tip up off the sidewalk like a marionette. Then he dug his fingers into Tip's arm muscle. Tip yelled out in pain. "Yeah, this bone might be broken, man, this shouldn't hurt so much when I squeeze it." He yanked Tip's arm back and forth. Then he pulled Tip in close. "Maybe you're right, the bone's not broken. But you're gonna have some real deep tissue bruising on this arm, bro. Look at the veins on my forearm, popping out all over, feeding my muscle with crushing strength. You feeling it, Tippy?" "Yes, yes. God, stop man!" Dwayne let go of Tip's arm. Tip back away quickly, holding his arm, and leaned against the telephone pole. He looked over at the street. "Don't try it," said Dwayne. "Try what?" "Running into the street to get away. First of all, you'd probably get hit by a car. Secondly, I'd snag you in under a second, because I'm 5 times faster than you now." "How'd you know...." "Cause I'm reading your mind, Tippy. And it's scary in there. All full of cobwebs, slowing down your synapses. Nothing much going on except simple vapid thoughts." Tip was starting to get panicky. He thought about his father's gun. "You can try and shoot me, dude, but it won't work," said Dwayne. "This muscle is bulletproof." Dwayne rubbed his hand down his hard muscled torso. "I'd just pick up the bullet and crush it flat between my thumb and index finger." He picked up a stone from the sidewalk, held it in front of Tip's nose, and cracked it with his two fingers. Then he ground it together between his fingertips until it crumbled into grit. Tip flinched back. Dwayne almost wondered if he really might be bulletproof. "Don't worry, dude, I won't hurt you. Although I could. Look at my arm," said Dwayne, bringing up his right arm and flexing it. The biceps peaked up high and hard, with a muscle density that Tip had never witnessed before. "Now watch this," said Dwayne. He stared at his peak, and willed it to grow. He smiled as the top of his arm rose up another half inch, another peak on his already high peak. "Aw yeah," he growled in satisfaction. "And look at the abs, Tippy. They look like they're flexed, don't they?" Tip nodded his head up and down weakly. "Well, they're not." With that, Dwayne clenched down on his abs, and his 8pak exploded with striations, into what he called his 32pak. Tip slid halfway down the telephone pole, stunned, his face even with Dwayne's wall of shred. "That's a sight to behold, isn't it, boy?" Dwayne said, looking down at the deflated bully. Then Dwayne had a thought. He remembered how Mr K went down on his knees after Dwayne wished for it. He wasn't sure at the time if it was just coincidence, that Mr K wanted to crawl over to him on his knees to pleasure him, or if Dwayne had influenced him with his mind. He'd been studying some hypnosis, and they said you couldn't make anyone do something that they didn't want to do, but he wondered. So without saying a word, he stared at Tip, and he thought to himself, "Hit yourself, Tip." And he watched as Tip slowly made a fist with his right hand, then punched himself in the face. "Whoa," said Dwayne. Then, he thought to himself, "Hit yourself harder." And Tip punched himself in the nose, this time harder, and it knocked his head back into the pole. A small tickle of blood came out of his nose. "Holy shit," thought Dwayne. He felt his dick thicken in his shorts. He wondered if he ordered Tip to blow him right here on the sidewalk, if he would do it. But he had no interest in that. He sensed that Tip was an easy mark, not worth much of his effort. Instead, he reached up on the telephone pole behind tip, and grabbed onto the lowest climbing rung. It was rusty with age, but still sturdy. Dwayne bent it back and forth with his hand, until it snapped off. "fuckkk," said Tip, not quite believing his eyes. Dwayne looked at him and thought, "hold out your arm," and Tip's arm went up toward him. Dwayne took the thick rung in both hands, then bent it around Tip's wrist until the ends crossed. "There's a little bracelet for you to remember me by, pinhead," said Dwayne, as he tightened the iron rung around Tip's wrist. "Don't try and take it off though, because if I ever see you without it, my feelings will be real hurt. I might think you're breaking up with me, and I wouldn't like that." The defeated look on Tip's face made Dwayne feel bad for him. Poor dimwitted jock never thought anyone would get the best of him. Payback can be a bitch. "Why don't you get going now, dude, before I use your bike frame to decorate you some more." Dwayne picked up the busted frame and handed it to Tip. "I have a fight to get ready for," said Dwayne. The befuddled Tip watched the powerfully muscled former nerd jog away down the street. He couldn't believe he was ever able to pick on him. He wondered who would be stupid enough to step into the ring against such a freak.
  17. Changing my Life - Part 11

    Hello everyone. I'm really sorry, I've been busy the last couple of weeks and didn't really know how I wanted this story to continue. But I have an idea of where I want this story to go, don't worry. If anyone has any suggestions, then please let me know as I love hearing your ideas . Thanks again for waiting and I truly hope you enjoy! Part I Part VI Part II Part VII Part III Part VIII Part IV Part IX Part V Part X Changing my Life Part XI We explained everything to the doc. from the incident that happened at the party, to the growth that happened in the shower. The doc listened to every detail. Afterwards he told us that he was shocked to hear about Max taking all the pills. He also warned us that there was no way we could end his growth now. He wanted to see Max for himself. He made us an appointment for the next morning. After our conversation, Max and I went to bed. After the shower incident, I had no problem falling asleep. Neither did Max. That night I dreamed about Max and me, lying on the sofa in the living room. I was lying on top of Max’s thick legs. We were both looking at the television when all of a sudden, I heard him moan. I looked up to see his face. He was biting his lips and closing his eyes. Looking down, I saw his shirt tightening and I felt my head tilting higher and higher. Was he growing? I asked myself when I heard an all too familiar sound… Riiiiiiiip! His bulging pecs pushed the fabric to its limits and exploded out of them. His head was rising up and up, whilst his muscles expanded in every direction. His veins were visible again and they too grew thicker. His moaning increased and he started sweating and panting at this point. I sat up to see his beautiful growing body. I could hear the sofa creaking underneath his growing form. “I can’t take it anymore!” he said when he ripped of his tight shorts off. It didn’t take long before he started working on his growing dick. It seemed to be three times the size of my own. And I was already big down there. His balls expanded and started swelling, making room for gallons of cum to eventually erupt out of a mammoth sized dick. His head was now pushing against the ceiling and with a loud crack the sofa broke. Max’s giant arse was now digging into the floor whilst his head was breaking the ceiling. I still sat on a broken sofa, looking up at a magnificent beast. There wasn’t much I could do then to stare in awe and work on my own growing member. Somehow, I didn’t feel as scared as I used to be. It felt like this was something that I wanted to happen just as much as he did. I got my dick out and started stroking it. It was already painfully hard and leaking pre. Then I heard a loud crash in front of me. Max’s feet tore down the walls to make room for a still growing body. Max’s head eventually broke the ceiling and grew bigger and bigger! “I need some help here babe!” he said in a deeper voice in-between moans. I got up and climbed on top of his bulging legs. Finally, I was in front of the most beautiful dick in the world. I didn’t hesitate and ran up to it. My tongue was worshipping his giant meat. “Oh god, I love you so much!” he screamed looking at me. I got so horny looking at his gorgeous face mounted on to a hot bodybuilders body. He got his giant hand up flexed for me. “You like that babe?” he said whilst winking at me. I came looking at his giant biceps. My cum looked like a little drop compared to his huge drops of pre. It didn’t take long before I heard him scream one last time before a hose of cum hit the ceiling and landed on top of me. He didn’t show any sign of stopping and the floor became a white, hot pool of cum. His legs disappeared and shortly after, I found myself swimming. I looked behind me to see that his giant dick was still erupting cum. Then I was just centimetres away from the ceiling. I held my breath before the cum completely filled the room. I jumped up in bed when I awoke from my arousing dream. I first looked next to me to find Max, still at the same height as before (well you know, still the big version). I looked the opposite side to look at the window. The sun was rising. Beams of light hit my face. My phone buzzed as I saw a notification, reminding me that we had our appointment within 3 hours. I tossed my blanket and wanted to stand up only to find out that my underpants were drenched in cum. I smiled at the sight and walked across the bed, where Max was sleeping. I kneeled in front of him and gave him a kiss on his forehead. “Good morning, sunshine.” I said smiling at him. He awoke with his gorgeous smile on his face and said in his manly deep voice “Morning beautiful.” He tossed the blankets aside only to show me his wonderful body. Glistering with sweat, his bulging pecs were bigger than ever, his abs were even deeper and broader, his titanic sized arms were bigger than I remembered, veins popping up all over his body! He slowly sat up straight on the bed. The wooden frame creaking under his enormous weight. Placing his feet on the ground, I noticed just how big they were. One leg was almost as big as both of mine together (I think I mentioned that before but still)! Not to mention his big dick… it was as long as my forearm! And it wasn’t even hard yet! As he stretched his giant frame, he stood up… and up… and up. I couldn’t get my eyes off of him. He was so big and handsome. To think that this gorgeous figure was my boyfriend, MY lover, it was beyond my beliefs. Still mesmerised at his body I couldn’t speak; “I erm…. I g… got a noti…” before I could finish my sentence, he added; “Yeah I know, I heard your phone too.” Then he walked towards me and tossed his meaty arm around me and squeezed my ass before giving me the most passionate kiss. I could just feel how much more dominant he has gotten in the last couple of weeks. I don’t mind it though. The thought of him being bigger and stronger but still being so gentle and kind, turned me on so much. After the kiss he looked me in my eyes and said “Do you know how happy I am to have you in my life?” I just melted when he said it, my feet were like jelly. He grabbed me, lifted me up and carried me downstairs. I made him a very big meal, starting with 3 eggs, bacon, some sandwiches, sausages, yoghurt and a glass of milk. He ate all of it and afterwards grabbed some leftovers from the fridge. More and more I was feeling pleased with him growing. Seeing him devour so much food was so delightful to watch. When we were finished, we went back upstairs to freshen up and get dressed for our appointment. Max, however, had trouble containing his strength. He broke the doorframe when entering the bathroom, he broke his toothbrush and comb, knocked the light fixture to the ground and broke the handle from the wardrobe. It was exciting but scary at the same time. Being unaware of his strength even made him a bit frightened. In the wardrobe, I helped Max dressing up. The clothes I bought for him that were once loose enough for him, now seemed just big enough or skin-tight. His socks were stretched out and his briefs didn’t hide anything. His dickhead was poking out of them whilst his derrière ripped them off every time he sat down. His trousers were fine, the buttons were hard to close but it worked once we put on his belt. Shirts weren’t an option. The buttons flew off like his pecs were firing them right at me. So we tried just a regular T-shirt. It fitted him nicely. Finally we added some Nike shoes and his look was completed. I backed up for a second to see his entire body with his clothes on. He looked good but you could definitely see that he was no ordinary man. You could easily mistake him for an athlete or a bodybuilder. I must have been staring to long because Max said; “Is my personal shopper pleased with his choice of clothing?” I laughed and replied “You look good Max, you really do.” He walked up to me and kissed me once more. “Thanks to you babe.” I blushed and smiled at his gorgeous face. We packed our stuff and were on our way to the doc. In the car we listened to some of our favourite music. Max and I had different tastes in music. He liked listening to rock whilst I enjoyed pop music. Though we both enjoyed some Michael Jackson, Meghan Trainor and Britney Spears. Singing along was one of the things I enjoyed doing in the car. It made the trip more enjoyable. Max, however, had to put on a show. Singing ‘Hit me baby one more time’, he raised his voice to mimic Britney’s. But due to his much deeper voice, it made for a laughable performance. These were the moments I looked into his eyes and realised that, even though he’s still growing, he’s still that sweet childish boy I fell in love with. Soon we entered Mr. Petrov’s house. Not much has changed since the last time we were here. I knocked on the door and heard from the other end a familiar voice, “I’m coming!” The doc. said. He opened the front door and let us enter. When we entered, I could hear the wooden floor creaking under Max’s weight. I knew that the house was old so I was somewhat worried that Max might break something. However we didn’t spend much time in the doc.’s living area. He directed us back towards his lab. When we entered his lab, there was a chair in the middle of the room with some cables above it. I saw Max’s face. He seemed frightened and sad at the same time. I tried to comfort him by resting my hand on his massive shoulder. He looked back at me and smiled once again. we walked up close to the chair. The doc. asked him to remove his clothes except his briefs. Afterwards he Max looked at the doc. for further instructions. “Max, please take a seat.” The doc. ordered. Max did what he was told and the doc attached the wires to his body. Placing them on his head, neck, shoulders, arms, chest, back, … “What is going to happen to me?” Max asked in a sad tone. “I’ll have to take some samples and check your body in order to know what is going to happen with you Max.” The doc said in a serious tone. We exchanged looks and shortly after he asked me to go into the room behind me. I looked around to find a small door with a mirror besides it. “Max, Jake and I will be in that room over there checking your condition. You’ll feel a few shocks but don’t worry it’ll only hurt for a second okay?” the doc. said. Max nodded and looked back at me again. I walked up to him and caressed his cheek. “You’ll be fine babe, I know you will.” I said before giving him a long kiss. I was guided to the small control room where the doc closed the door and turned his head towards me. “Listen Jake, after you told me all about what had happened, I had to bring the both of you here.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “The Max that you know and love, won’t be the same after this treatment.” He said sitting down on the chair opposite the window. “Why! What is going on doc.?!” I was getting really mad and confused now. The doc. sighted and continued; “The encounter you had in the shower with Max, those will only become more aggressive and they’ll happen more frequent. It’s one of the side effects that can occur during this procedure. He would have been able to control this urge by only taking one pill. But since he took all of them, he probably won’t be able to in the future.” He said looking down at his notes. I had to sit down and think about what he just said. I was speechless and sad. Tears began to form in my eyes. “Can’t he learn to control this urge… or can’t you give him some medication to calm him down when it happens?” I started asking, trying to find a solution for his problem. “Listen Jake. He’ll only become stronger and bigger. There’s little we can do about it now.” He said starting his computer and connecting it with this machine in front of us. “Let’s check his body first.” He said. I looked in up to see that the mirror actually was window from the other side. I could see Max all wired up and anxious. I felt like I could scream. If it were true that the Max I know would turn into a beast or a lover that could kill me, was just devastating. I could hear a ding sound and looked down to see a body image on the doc’s computer. It was already recognizing Max’s body and it showed where the cables were connected. I don’t know a lot about technology but it was quite impressive to see. In the left corner of the screen, I could see his blood pressure and his heartbeat along with his weight and height. “I’m going to give him shocks on the places you see here on the screen. I’ll be able to make a rough sketch on how big Max will grow. If you don’t want to look, I understand.” The doc said looking at me. I was a bit confused as to why I didn’t want to see Max but shortly after my answer was given. The doc. selected the dot on the shoulder and it automatically gave Max a shock. I saw him scream and closing his eyes whilst his body was fighting against the pain. Tears started rolling down my cheeks as I saw my boyfriend being tortured. I wanted it to end and walked towards the door but was stopped by the doc. “You can’t leave Jake, I know that this must be killing you inside but try to understand that I only want to help you guys.” He said holding my hand really tight in order for me to stay put. I hesitated but eventually nodded and walked back to my place. However I couldn’t watch Max. It was too painful to see him in this state. After the doc. finished, the computer was loading some kind of a chart along with some percentages. I didn’t have time to find out what it said as the doc. placed the computer on his table and took out a syringe. “Is he afraid of syringes?” he asked before walking out. “A little but I’ll calm him down.” I said wiping away my tears and exiting the chamber. As I walked towards Max, it was so hard to see him. He looked exhausted. “Max are you okay?” I asked trying to hold my tears back. “Yeah, I’m okay now.” He said positioning his big frame in a more comfortable position whilst the doc. detached the wires. He looked at me and I looked back at Max. I knew what was coming next. “Okay babe, the doc has to take some blood to run some tests okay. Can you be brave for me?” I asked. I knew he was brave enough already but I also knew how much he hated syringes. He took my hand and squeezed it whilst the doc took his blood. He squeezed my hand so much I had to get down from the pain. “Ah! Max please you’re hurting me!” I screamed. Max looked shocked and released my flimsy hand. When the doc. had the sample he told us that the results would be completed once he gave the machine Max’s blood (or something like that I don’t know exactly what he said). He went back into the chamber and gave us a moment alone. Max tried standing up but he was so tired that even that was hard for him to do. So instead I sat down on top of him and hugged him. “I’m so sorry.” He said and started crying “I never should’ve taken all those pills at once.” I couldn’t hold back and started crying too. “It’s okay babe. I understand why you did it. But we have to be strong now.” I said in between sobs. Then it was silent. We were both so comfortable in each other’s arms that we didn’t need to talk. We were there for each other. That was the most important right now. The doc. returned shortly after and looked surprisingly happy. He approached us with some papers and started talking to us. Max’s body seemed to be growing steadily and would probably reach a height of four to six meters! This was a bit hard to take in. However his body also seemed to have very healthy blood cells. Every time they found a virus or an illness they eliminate them… he believed it had something to do with a self-healing process. “Max, I had my doubts but I think it’s safe to say that you are going to be fine.” He said smiling at the both of us. I never felt this happy in my life. My boyfriend would be okay! I hugged him and kissed him. We started crying again but this time they were tears of happiness. “However, I still want to warn you!” The doc. said in a more serious tone again. “You have to learn to control your strength. If you don’t, you might end up hurting the ones you love.” He said looking at me. I knew exactly what he meant but before I could say anything, Max started talking. “I will doc. I don’t want to hurt anybody. Especially not this little one.” He said playfully squeezing my ass. “Good, now I will keep in contact with you and will require a weekly check-up.” He said leading us back to the front door. I thanked him and told him we would update him on Max’s transformation this time. He thanked us and told us that if we needed anything or needed any help, we could always contact him.
  18. The Iron Bug - Part V

    Oh boy, it has been quite a while since I 've worked on this story. This update comes in two parts. This one is the plot-heavy one. Feel free to skip through at your leisure if that is not your jam. Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V -- The Well We have lingered in the chambers of sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown. - T.S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" The clouds were painted flat and grey against the sky, leaving a muddy warmth in their wake. The pale morning light that made it through lent a calm air to the morning, the blue-hued rays filtering through the needles of trees. It was a day like any other. I waited outside Charlie’s house for him to leave for class. I had no plan. Short of makeshift handcuffs, I was out of ideas. He could probably knock me out at any time, and I had no idea how he did it. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask nicely. He opened the door wearing a white wife beater that was just tight enough to show his abs through the fabric. When his verdant eyes turned to face me he looked amused. “You look different, little man,” he said. I stared at him blankly. I wasn’t sure what to do. He chuckled. “What is it you want from me anyways? You made your wish and it has nothing to do with mine.” He said. “What are you talking about?” I inquired bluntly. “I never made any wish. Frankly I have no idea what’s going on…although I’m not complaining, I guess,” I stated, rubbing my thick hands across the deep, shredded crevices of my abs. God, what was happening to me. “Sorry, that’s become a force of habit lately,” I mumbled. “You’ve never been to the well?” Charlie asked. “No. What well?” I asked impatiently. “Then what happened to you?” He seemed genuinely interested, the amusement on his face giving way to curiosity. And he clearly knew a lot more than I did. It couldn’t hurt to share. I described the metal bug, the insatiable desire to lift, the ravenous hunger, the euphoric growth, the second bite, and the dream. Well, the relevant parts of the dream. I also left out the parts about Delilah. He gazed at me intently before breaking into a smile. Then he took a deep breath. “Well, so much for class today. We’re going on a field trip.” Charlie said, dropping his backpack inside the door and then shutting it for good. He stretched and I could see the soft shadows of his triceps that I had felt in my dream. I was bewildered. Apparently my ignorance was enough to warrant his help. “Get ready for a bit of a hike. It’s not too far, but more than a quick walk.” After that he started ahead off without me, and I jogged to catch up. I followed him quietly as he led me through the neighborhood to a trail into the forest. It was a path I had run a few times before. Tall evergreens surrounded us, soft and inviting in the pale morning light. I spoke up once and he looked at me stolidly, telling me to “Just wait until we get there.” The rest of our trek was conducted in the relative silence of the forest. Only the frogs made sounds as they fell asleep for the day. I tried to focus on our surroundings instead of gaping awkwardly at his chiseled backside. I worried he would catch me staring and knock me out. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Squirrels ran through the leaf litter and up the trees, eying us cautiously as we made our way up the path. After about forty minutes we came to a unique collection of ovoid rocks that were stacked against one another, and he led us off the path to wade through the remnants of a trail overrun with forest scrub. I was forced to watch him as he guided us through, and I found that the longer I focused on him the less I was able to focus on anything else. There was a certain magnetism about the way he moved, confident and alluring. My eyes ate up his every motion hungrily. Everything about him was perfect. His back sculpted like the smoothest stone, his walnut colored hair reflecting beautifully in the sunlight, the beefy heads of his calves separating every time he took a stop, the sweat rolling off his caramel tanned skin, his clothes hugging his tight body with every motion. Amongst all the beauty of the forest, including my own, he outshined us all, a guiding light in the darkness. His radiance enraptured me, made me feel whole. A branch swept across my face, forcing my attention away from Charlie. The trance was lifted, and the rest of the world came rushing back into view. I felt on my face where I had been struck but could not find a cut or any pain. Another part of the transformation, I guessed. I wondered silently if anything could hurt me. When I looked back up at Charlie he seemed like an ordinary person again. Still just as attractive, but I was no longer transfixed by him. I found that if I stared for too long, however, I started to lose clarity again. It was best to focus elsewhere and follow the sound of him moving through the scrub. The last of the wildflowers were wilting in the mild summer heat. Another half an hour of trekking found us in a small clearing that was mostly shaded save for a few sharp slivers of sunlight that pierced through. Charlie stopped and took a long, deep breath. Leaf litter from the surrounding trees covered the ground, but few plants grew here. The ones that did had long, thin leaves almost like needles and vibrant red flowers that let their stamens out towards the ground. In the center of the clearing stood a stone structure resembling a well. The clean cut stones were a deep, mottled grey that I did not recognize. The well overflowed with water, and it spilled into a shallow pool of the same stone that encircled the structure. The water that flowed out seemed unnaturally dark, like it refused to let any light leave its shallow prison. A wooden covering was held by thin posts ornately carved with various animal and plant designs. It looked like it had been built long after the primary structure by someone other than the original architect. A small wooden bucket hung from the roof as well, although it did not seem to serve much purpose. “Welcome to the wishing well,” Charlie said with false ceremony. “I…don’t get it, honestly. Why are we here?” I said, perplexed. “Just go up to it. You’ll have to take your shoes off and put your feet into the water to look inside. Then you’ll see.” I agreed reluctantly. The whole structure, although simple enough, gave me an ominous feeling. Light and sound seemed to move oddly through the clearing because of it, sometimes enhanced and sometimes subdued but never what was expected. The well itself had a certain Lovecraftian alienness about it, as though whoever built it had tried to create something familiar but had failed in the details and instead made something entirely foreign. I steeled myself for whatever fate awaited me, taking my shoes off before the water. What the hell, I thought, rubbing my cheek where the branch had hit me. I am practically invincible now, anyways. The inky water was smooth and cool on my feet. The flow from the well gave me the impression of wading through the tide rather than standing in a pool, and I noticed that the water drained into holes along the pool’s stone edges. The closer I came to the well the more everything around it seemed to go dark in my vision. Soon the only thing I could see was the stone and the water, and my feet moving through it. The rest of the world had faded into a giant expanse, endless, vast, and humming with a vibrancy of life despite its emptiness. I rested my hands on the well, feeling the cool rush of dark water flow over them, and looked inside. Images swirled and began to take shape and form against the darkness. Soon I was a part of them, as though I was in a dream. I could not tell at first if the visions I saw were scenes from the future or memories. At times they felt like both. Each one was a snapshot from my life, not always in order but generally progressing forward. They came slowly at first, then faster and faster until they began to blur together. Important moments and small moments rubbed up against one another in a ceaseless barrage: graduation from university, a gentle kiss from a stranger, my election to head of an engineering firm, the desert view from atop a tall rock, my sister’s funeral. In every image I was the same age, and as time sped past I was oblivious to its effects. I traveled the world and experienced more than most do in a lifetime, summiting mountains and skyscrapers, exploring though canyons and across highways until I felt there was no more to see. I met others, many of them, from all walks of life. I talked with them, laughed with them, loved them, fucked them. I grew from each of them, and I cherished every one of them. In the midst of my travels, in a dark city alley lined with high adobe walls, I found a mirror. The humid air and sandy floor of the alley faded as I gazed into it. The reflection was my own, but I had grown to titanic proportions. At least twice my current size, and all muscle. The shelf of my pecs eclipsed the sun for those who stood under me, and the strength a single arm was enough to topple buildings. I was invincible, the epitome of eroticism and power. In the mirror’s visions, I filled my time with prodigious displays of my boundless strength, lifting ships with the flick of my wrist, stopping bullets and tanks that would stand in my way, eating and drinking and fucking whomever I pleased. I was indomitable in the world of men, a god for others to worship. I looked away from the mirror and continued on my own path. But the visions from the mirror stuck with me, haunting me. Time continued its march and I moved with it effortlessly, but the others did not. I watched my friends and loved ones die, and new ones sprang up to take their place. The stars continued to turn overhead, but I stopped counting the revolutions of the earth and the numbers of days that passed. Time was just an excuse for everything not to happen all at once. I watched the world change as my body refused to age. The seas rose and dried up, technologies advanced beyond what I thought possible, the natural world around us dwindled and was restructured in our image, countries rose and fell in what felt like minutes, and soon we left the earth behind. Eventually I jumped across stars with the rest of our species through the grandness of the cosmos, watching patiently what became of us as we traipsed from galaxy to galaxy. And just when I felt myself start to slip into a boundless infinity a hand pulled me out from the well. I inhaled sharply, as though I had just been rescued from the bottom of a pool. “What did you see?” he asked calmly. “I was immortal. I saw everything.” Charlie regarded me cautiously. “That’s a new one. Must have been why you were out for so long. “Look, just be careful. The well shows you the wish you want, but it doesn’t always grant it. Mostly it works out, but sometimes it fails and things get tricky. That’s probably where your bugs came from, too. Whoever made that wish may not have even been bitten.” I paused, considering what monstrous incarnation of eternity would spring forth from the well to grant my own wish. Finally I regained the courage to speak. “What did you wish for?” I asked. “I haven’t. I’m like you. The product of someone else’s wish.” I stared at him blankly. “When my mom was young she found this well by accident. Just like you and everyone who comes across it, it showed her what she wanted most, although she didn’t know it at the time. She says she saw the most beautiful woman in the world, one that no man could resist. When she asked the well to make it real, a branch grew from the water and offered her a fruit. “She got her wish. Not only was she beautiful, but men became obsessed with her. She drove them mad. And when she spoke, she could ask them to do anything she wanted.” “Like what you did with me?” I asked. He nodded. She had asked to become Helen but had become a Siren instead. And apparently it was heritable. “The way her wish was granted, she never knew if men loved her or were just lost in a trance. But she managed to fall in love with my dad, somehow, and they lived together long enough to have me. “Then one day while he was working on his car he cut his arm pretty deep, and when he looked at her she was a stranger. It took him a long time just to remember who she was, and after he couldn’t even look at her. They split after that. That’s the short version anyhow.” “What happened to her?” I asked. “She still lives here with me. She rarely goes out now. Too many eyes watching. Now she only talks with the others who have been to the well. Most of them online. They tend to scatter.” “What about you, then? Have you ever looked in the water?” “No, I haven’t. Too risky. I don’t have it even a quarter as bad as she does,” he said, gesturing down to his body, “And you can barely even look at me for more than five minutes.” I blushed. I wasn’t sure if he had noticed. “I have my whole life to think about what my wish will be. There’s no rush.” “So I could wish for everything to go back to normal?” “I don’t know. Whoever or whatever built this well doesn’t seem to need it anymore, so we can’t ask questions. We only know what we know from the wishes we’ve made. “Look, I only brought you here so you could understand what’s happening to you. It probably would have drawn you here anyways, even if I hadn’t shown you. That’s what happened to me, sort of like your dream. I can’t stop you from making your wish, but you should know it doesn’t always go according to plan.” I thought to argue, but it was useless. He had made up his mind. And so we left the clearing and headed home in silence once more. The siren’s son led me from the water, safe to dry land. -- The night was dark from thick cloud cover and an absent moon. I had spent all day packing, throwing away most of my clothes that wouldn’t fit anymore. I was already a day and a half late, and I tried to rush but I found it hard to focus. My mind was preoccupied with the well. My head buzzed with the wish that I would make, what, if anything, I would tell Delilah, and the behemoth that had stared back at me in the mirror. If I wanted to, I could ask for it. But that was someone else’s wish, I had to remind myself. Although, even still… I loved the way the downcast lighting reflected off of my body, the way every single crevice formed by my impressive musculature made a deep shadow. I thought about how I could make men cum just by letting them worship me, how even my fingers had the strength to bend metal with ease, and how the hard flesh under my skin was now akin to the metal that I lifted. Pre leaked ceaselessly from my hard cock as I subtly flexed and explored what my body had become. -- My flashlight barely lit the forest path as I made my way out to the well. I got lost a few times, having to turn back before I found the rock formation I was looking for. I stumbled my way through the trail, freshly beaten by our steps from this morning, and found my way to the clearing. The red flowers glowed with a soft phosphorescence in the darkness of the night. Only a few scarce stars were visible overhead. I took a deep breath, removed my shoes and placed my feet into the water. The temperature had not changed, and against the cool night air it was warm on my feet. The infinite expanse opened up to me again, my surroundings even darker than the night I came from. I saw the same visions pass before my eyes, including the mirror. And when it was done I stood silently for a few moments, the weight of eternity on my shoulders. Then I made my wish.
  19. The Iron Bug - Part IV

    Oh boy, it has been quite a while since I 've worked on this story. This update comes in two parts. This one is the sexy one. A short summary of previous parts will be posted below. Part I Part II Part III Part VI -- Metamorphosis As soon as I closed my eyes I found myself drifting in a vast darkness. Everything was black and empty except for a dull, growing warmth inside me, like I was on the cusp of a fever. Time was hard to gauge here. I passed what could have been minutes or hours through the emptiness before the pulse in my veins began to rise. Slowly at first, but then stronger and stronger until it was near bounding. At the same time my muscles swelled and tightened to their own rhythm, every fiber burgeoning with more power from each flexion. The pleasure of each muscle filling out to its rightful proportion was exhilarating, almost orgasmic. Pre leaked out of me in streams and floated aside me through the abyss. I was lost in a tranquil euphoria, becoming something greater. More immeasurable time passed before the transformation slowed to a halt, and I realized that I was still dreaming. The darkness faded into a blue sky, my body falling gently into a field of tall grass. I opened my eyes slowly. The sun shone radiantly, casting its bright light over my body and a few crimson flowers that each rose like its own little sun from between the long blades. The warmth of the grass pressed against my now cool skin, the bristles soft against my hard flesh. I laid there calmly, basking in the afterglow of my metamorphosis. When I lifted my head and sat up, Charlie stared down at me. His expression was almost mischievous, like a little kid caught doing something he knew he shouldn’t. His feet dragged through the tall blades as he stepped towards me, pushing me back down with his foot as his body towered over mine. Even when he lifted his foot his confident gaze was enough to hold me in place. Something about him was spellbinding, commanding. My titanic strength was useless before it. He kneeled down on top of me and I felt the softness of the grass on my back mirror the smoothness of his skin on mine. Every muscle on his body was solid, smooth, and flawlessly proportioned. Running my hands across his triceps I felt each curvature as they flexed with the simplest motion. His eyes shone marvelously and effortlessly. Our lips touched. The physical separation between us faded as we continued to explore each other. I guided my hands along his burly arms while our lips played with each other’s, and then he ran his nose thorough the deep crevice of my solid abs, his fingers gently toying with my erect nipples until he brought his tongue back up to meet them. In an instant I rolled us over and pressed him down, forcing my tongue into his mouth. I was stronger, and it thrilled me. I pinned his arms on the ground and held his legs down with my massive quads, rubbing my dick slowly on top of his. Our abs slid across each other as my dick throbbed in anticipation of my load. Suddenly his lips left mine and he gazed into my eyes with a sort of smug expression. He guided me gently with his hands, and I could not help but yield to his touch. He flipped us back over. He stared at me again with that overwhelming confidence, and then started to kiss his way down to my cock. I leaned my back onto the stone well that had appeared behind us, as objects sometimes do in a dream. Just as he started to reach past my apollo’s belt, I let out a deep groan… -- I awoke to rain pounding on the roof. It was heavy and full and warm with summer. I stared at the fine grains of the wood of the ceiling for a long, hard minute before I was convinced that I wasn’t dreaming anymore. My heavy breathing and the drops on the windowpanes were the only sounds that filled the room. The paltry, muggy light of dusk gave me just enough light to see the vague outlines of the walls. Apparently I had slept for a long time. The blankets had tangled from my tossing and turning, and I carefully unraveled my cocoon of sheets to find freedom. A sharp inhale filled my lungs, my chest expanding outward proudly to let the air rush in. Even without seeing it, I felt thicker, stronger, more powerful. My muscles moved like steel under my skin. When I flexed them I felt as though I had the strength to lift buildings and move mountains. The sheets tore as I gripped them in anticipation. Fuck. I flipped the light switch on to guide my way to the bathroom, swelling with the suspense of my image in the mirror. To my horror, I found my body hadn’t changed at all. My heart fell out of my chest. All of my work had been for nothing. My cock head begged to differ, however, flaring larger than any I had ever seen and standing atop a dick that was one and a half times its original size. I had gone from just above average to well endowed, with thickness to match. When I touched it lightning ran through my body. But I held on, stroking gently. Watching myself jack off in the mirror was still something to behold. I lifted my 18 inch arms and watched each belly stand out in relief, chiseled, rock solid, perfection. My abs crunched down and formed a cobblestone eight pack. Fuck, I was starting to get weak in the knees. I grabbed onto the shower certain rod for support. Instead the metal bent in my hand, removing the rod from its holds. I fell on my butt and the rod clanged on the floor. Without getting up, I picked up the warped metal and gave it a quick bend with just my right hand. My left stayed dedicated to stroking off as I twisted the metal into whatever shape I pleased, watching the muscles on my forearms danced as I contorted it like it was nothing more than a piece of paper. It was exhilarating, knowing the strength I had in just my fingers. My cum reached the ceiling from the floor as I came. Good thing I was just tall enough to reach up there now. I kept playing with the rod as my cock finished its final spurts. A note for the iron bug manual: a full bite grants you Priapus’ cock and Hercules’ strength. Good to know. And then I had an idea. -- Two hours later I found myself in a big city, noticing the streetlights' reflection off of my old beat up truck and a few scattered puddles on the ground. The apartment building I was looking for seemed to rise up stoically out of the cement, featureless and foreboding for its onlookers. I felt the cool, fresh night air run across my hard flesh as I walked inside. The lights in the lobby flickered fluorescent and bright, in stark contrast to the melancholy world I had just left. A shell of safety and warmth. I took the elevator to the third floor and walked the long, sparsely decorated hallway down to room 304. When he opened the door he smiled at me. I’m sure he was surprised at what he found, since I had used pictures from two transformation cycles ago to find him. “Come on in,” he said, his deep voice complementing the hypermasculine stature that stood proudly before me. Head shaved, white skin, shirt that looked tailored to show off the size of his chest and the slimness of his waist. I guessed he was between 32 and 35, his face showing the subtle signs of aging that were combated by a life dedicated to lifting and fitness. He turned around and left the door open. I liked the way he walked. It was a mixture of that arrogant jock sort of saunter and the stilted, muscle-bound waddle of bodybuilders. His confidence was exuberant. That was going to be fun to break. He was just finishing dinner. In a large red cast iron pan, some inedible-looking green paste was still frying. He offered some to me. I looked at him and gave him a sly smile. “I don’t really watch what I eat,” I said, my expression falling back to the cold, elusive demeanor that I had adopted since the metamorphosis. He started to coach me on the impacts of diet on fitness and health and my attention drifted. I noticed his chest bounce every time he made a gesture. I could tell that he liked the way it stretched the fabric. Every movement was proud, calculated. I got up and moved towards him, him still going on about the lean muscle he had gained on his current diet. I took his wrist in my hand. It was solid, doubtlessly from years of lifting and perfecting his body. I wanted him to resist me, to give him a hint of how this night was going to go, but his hand moved with mine. I lifted my shirt and placed his rough fingers along my abs. “Does it feel like I need to go on a diet?” I said. He whistled, and a horny grin followed. “Okay, fair point,” he said. “Let’s head to the bedroom,” I said. He didn’t hesitate any further. “Wait, I need to use the bathroom first,” I lied. “Sure. It’s just around the corner there,” he said, pointing behind me. I watched him practically skip his way down the hall. He had a nice ass, perky and firm. Hi torso twisted to get through the doorframe. Meanwhile I took a quick detour to the garage. I got lucky. It was full of weights. I took a few minutes making preparations for the night. When I came back I found him with his shirt off, trying to look casual but clearly giddy with anticipation. I had to admit, his body was even more impressive without clothes on. Slightly marred by age, he still had a tight six pack and his lats stuck out noticeably from his sides, making his waist seem more trim. I could even see some of the striations in his pecs. He could compete as a lightweight bodybuilder if he wanted to, and maybe he had. “You like?” he said, lifting up his bicep. Probably over 18 inches. Bigger than mine. I smirked at him. “Sure, it’s alright.” He must have thought I was being sarcastic. “Where do you wanna start, big guy?” I said, playing to his pride. Having waited long enough, he pressed his lips into mine, softly. His lips were practiced, and his tongue moved skillfully in and out of my mouth. He led me over to the bed, but before he could lay on top of me I flipped us around and pushed him down onto it. He scrambled to take off his shorts and underwear and I took off my shirt slowly, letting him savor every moment of the reveal. I may not have gained much in size, but there was something of an unspeakable strength and dignity to my body. Every part of me was like iron, the flesh just barely containing the strength that lay under it. I stood over him for a few silent seconds before I revealed the metal bar I had kept hidden in my waistband. Normally it would be twice as long and more suited to hold weights, but I had torn it in half for what I had in mind. His expression was a mixture of confusion and curiosity. I bent the bar into a U shape right in front of him. It was like wire. I barely even felt the resistance. Without warning him I grabbed his wrists with my hands. He was in shock for the first few moments, but then he remembered that he should struggle. It was kind of cute. He thought he was strong, that I couldn’t possible keep him in my grip. It turned out the power in my fingers was more than he had in his entire upper body. I took the bar and put it around his burly wrists, clamping the metal shut with just one hand. The horror on his face was juxtaposed with his throbbing erection. Even if he didn’t understand what was happening he sure liked it. “How do you feel?” I asked, crushing off the loose ends of the bar and tightening down the space between his hands to form makeshift handcuffs. “What are you?” he responded, exasperated. “I honestly don’t know,” I replied. “Does it really matter?” I noticed that with his hands stuck together it made his chest stick out. Even while he was indisposed, the fullness and definition in his pecs were still admirable. My dick hardened at the thought that I had incapacitated him with so little effort. I reached down for his cock that was sticking out of his boxers. He was leaky. Hell, I would be too in a situation like this. There wasn’t a single part of my body that wasn’t worthy of salivating over. I threw him a few poses while I had him as my captive audience. Then I drew his throbbing member from its cotton sheath and whistled at what I found. At least eight inches, hard as stone, head throbbing with anticipation. Gaining momentum, I lifted him up off the bed and hefted him over my shoulder. Then I pressed him up with one hand. The metal dragged along my back as I lifted him, and I could feel the indentations my fingers had left. He stared at me with an expression of wonder and lust. I smiled at him and brought him back down towards me, allowing our lips to meet. Then I worked my tongue down his neck, past his nipples, across his abs until they met the head of his cock. I was pleasantly surprised that he lasted for more than a few minutes with my tongue wrapped around his head. I took my time, never letting him drop an inch even as he started to leak. When I felt him getting close I held him with both hands around his waist and started rubbing his cock against my chest. The idea must have really riled him up, because he came almost immediately. I laughed as his rather prodigious volume splashed up against my chin. Some of it found its way to my lips. It was sweet. I tossed him on the bed to marinate in his own juices while I went to wash off. But before I got in his shower, I spread the substantial volume of semen that I had earned across my chest. I liked the “oiled” look, the way the lighting made every fiber in my already awesome chest stand out even more. Turning the water on, I took turns bouncing them up and down as I washed them. I went slowly, admiring the absolute control I had over every muscle in my body. Soon I was touching myself all over… My cum stained his ceiling. I was sure he wouldn’t mind. When I got back to the room he lifted his bound hands towards me and begged: “Please, officer?” I obliged, twisting the metal off of his wrists without a drop of sweat. “Can I see you again?” he asked, almost pleading. I frowned. “Sadly, I’m moving tomorrow. I was supposed to leave yesterday, actually, but some business came up. If I’m ever back in town, you’ll be the first person I call.” I left him on the bed, still soaked in his own cum, dazed from what I had done to him. I felt sated. It was time to get some answers. Part V
  20. Post. Man.

    There is some daddy/son between consenting adults in this. Can move into unfiltered if any objections. Post. Man. “Nah mate. This delivery’s ‘Factory to Building’, says so here, look” God this guy was a bellend “Yep. I totally appreciate that. I’m just wondering if you wouldn’t mind carrying it the extra few metres? There’s a twenty in it...” I hated stooping to a bribe, but there was no way I could lift a washing machine on my own, let alone carry it up a flight of stairs. These guys only just managed to get it off the van, and there were two of them! But they wouldn’t be swayed. They had at least agreed to leave it at the bottom of the ramp to my building. Putting all my weight behind it I began pushing it up the ramp. Inch. By. Inch. 20 minutes later, it was 2 metres further up and I was shattered. I hadn’t even thought about how I’d get it up the stairs once in the building. How heavy was this thing? I googled, curiosity getting the better of pragmatism; knowing how heavy it was wasn’t going to make this easier. There it was on the website: ‘96kg / 211 lbs’ The other residents wouldn’t be home for another 6 hours and no one else was around. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck! I sat on the steps next to the ramp and threw my head into my hands. Why couldn’t I just turn my pants inside out like a NORMAL person? Who needed clean clothes anyway? What was wrong with the laundrette? “Not gonna get much washing done there lad.” Thanks for that hot take anonymous Scottish man. Good contribution. “Need a hand?” Even with a second person helping, I couldn’t have lifted a bean sprout right now. My back was killing and I was shattered. I looked up to say ‘thanks, but no thanks’ and get on with whatever Plan B was, but HOLY FUCKING HELL! It was the Postman, but not as I knew it. Just a few feet in front of me stood the biggest mountain of muscles I’d ever clapped eyes on. Absolutely fucking ginormous. He wasn’t as ripped as a bodybuilder, but still had densely packed muscles. He was one of those you could tell was naturally large, and had built on what nature had started. Neil, our regular Postie used one of the trolleys to deliver the post. His uniform hung loosely off his skinny frame, and you got the impression he had trouble delivering a DVD. Not this guy. The red Royal Mail polo shirt looked shrink wrapped onto his massive upper body. He was carrying a huge postman’s shoulder bag, the black strap of which cut across his body, right between the thickest pec meat I’d ever seen. They were like two big breeze blocks, flat on top and nearly up to his chin. His arms were ridiculous, two hams hanging out of his shirt. The short sleeves of the polo had no option than to bunch up under his armpits. The Royal Mail uniform designer must’ve read my mind from the future, as the bottom half of the outfit was those long shorts / trouser affairs that ended at the calves. Which was a good job in this guy’s case. You didn’t get calves likes these from just working out; these were genetic lumps of granite. They looked like fat people calves, only rock hard, with a split down the back and angled edges. The rest of his legs were almost equally on display. The black material was so tight you could see the teardrops of his thighs and dimples in his incredibly muscular butt cheeks. There was some padding around his face, but you could see he had a wide jaw and good features. A well kept beard, button nose, buzz cut hair round the back and sides, short on top, and deep set brown eyes capped by thick black eyebrows. And right now he was looking at me with concern. “Oh! could you?? I’ll have to find someone else to help though, I think I put my back out getting it that far” He looked at me, then the machine, then at me again, the same concerned look on his face, his eyebrows furrowed. When his neck turned I could see thick cords of muscle throb and twist under the skin, with a vein bulging at the side. “Let’s take a look shall we?” He said, I think to himself. As he shifted his weight from one foot to the other it was like every muscle in his body flexed and bulged. Watching him move over to the washing machine I felt my cock thicken between my thigh and jeans, the rough denim stimulating me even further. It was a sensation I loved. His body in motion made it chub even harder against the fabric. He was somehow stiff but fluid at the same time. As he turned I noticed that side on, his jutting out pecs and traps made him wider than I was head on. I could just about see veins in his biceps and triceps, and these became more apparent as they snaked down under his hairy forearms. When I saw him from the back, a bit of precum leaked. His lats bulged out freakishly. From shoulder to shoulder I think was two of me. I took the opportunity to stand up and quickly readjust myself, and noticed he must have had about 4 inches on me in height. He sidled up to the washing machine and it suddenly looked tiny. At his broadest point across his chest and shoulders he was several inches wider than the package. He seemed to be sizing it and getting ready to do a deadlift. “Oh, well you won’t be able to lift it on your own. It’s too big and heavy. It took two men just to get it off the van and they struggled. Plus I just checked and it weighs.. ninety….. six …… kilos” “Where to lad?” As I had been talking, this brick shit house of a man had slowly bent at the knees and placed his arms around the package and fingers underneath it. Showing no signs of struggle or resistance he slowly extended back up, his legs growing in size and bulging out further as he did so, veins appearing on his massively swollen calves. The package had been lifted up as if it was on a forklift. Slow and steady until he just held it there. “Uuuuh sure. This way” “Can’t see a thing lad, you’re gonna have to guide me.” He wasn’t wrong. The only way to do this was to stand by him, hand on his back and push him in the right direction. Even though the weight looked like nothing to him, there was a sweat patch running down the back of his shirt. I placed my hand on it and could feel the deep ridge between what felt like two columns of portland stone. I gulped and began to sweat a little myself. “3 steps forward and turn left” I began Relegated to directions and opening doors, my muscle beast of a postie had made light work of picking up a 96kg package and carrying it up a flight of stairs. If I had picked up anything like that shape, it would have been flat against my face. This guy’s rock hard pecs meant the box was some 10 inches from his. They were making two dents in the packaging as he crushed it into his body for traction. He looked like he was exploding with muscle inside his tightening red shirt. And the smell coming off him was intoxicating. Aftershave mixed with sweat mixed with cotton shirt mixed with man. I kind of wished I lived on the 4th floor. “Just down there is fine” I pointed to a spot in my hallway “Sure?” “Yep, it’s gonna go in that cupboard eventually” He lowered the package down as smoothly and easily as he had picked it up and gave a big sigh, his chunky round delts heaving upward and flexing his traps as he did so. I started to babble “Oh my god, thank you SO much. The delivery guys just… and I was there going... and when you turned up I thought, well..! But then you just...!!” He started to chuckle and I shut up. His deep Scots drawl and reassuring tone was authoritative but warm; paternal “Lad, it’s no problem at all. More than happy to assist. Anyway, helped me get a bit of a pump on I think.” He flexed his pecs twice in quick succession looking down at them, then began pumping his biceps like he was curling weights. He was swelling up in front of my eyes. I tried to play it as cool as possible, my dick screaming to be pulled out and yanked. “Really? You made it look so easy!” “Yeeeah, well… truth be told I can handle a lot more than that. But you know, a pump’s a pump isn’t it” he did a cocky raise of his eyebrows and a mini pump of his arms again. I couldn’t stop the words leaving my mouth. “Seriously?! How much more?” He leaned in and winked “Much. MUCH. More.” he growled I stood there looking stunned, precum dripping into my waistband, not a clue what to say next. “When they installing that for you then?” He nodded at the machine. “They’re not!” I answered proudly. “Gonna do it myself!” He gave me the same concerned look, his brow furrowing as it had before. God that was hot as fuck. “Laddie, you’re gonna unpack that, which means lifting it *out* of its packaging, move it into the cupboard *over* that skirting board, then keep it tilted at an angle with one hand while you install it wi’ the other?” Oh... “Umm… yeeeees?” He chuckled again, his immense shoulders bouncing up and down. He brought a calloused hand up to his forehead in mock despair, giving me another shot of his forearm. Lightly covered in hair it was now throbbing with veins. It was so satisfyingly thick at the bicep end I wanted to reach out and bite it. Huge and thick, it bulged even further to in the middle, like a melon was in there, then dramatically tapered down to his chunky wrist. His hand and fingers were thick with fat and muscle, and looked like they could crush a cricket ball. “Look, I’ve still two more routes to deliver, but if you’re in at four I can come by and set that up for you” “For real?” “For real” I mock refused “No. I couldn’t accept, you’ve already helped me out so much” “Lad, it’s on my way back anyway, and I don’t want to go home thinking about you trying to install that thing if you you’ve put your back out!” Leaning in close again he added, “And anyway, I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer” I froze at how dominant and manly he was, completely taking control of the situation. I loved that he was inviting himself back to my flat, seemingly without my permission. Somehow I found the words. “See you at four then!” He held out a giant paw to shake hands. My own nearly got lost in it. His palm had a beautiful raw texture to it, like rough denim. We introduced ourselves to each other. I couldn’t believe it when he told me his name! “Patrick” Then he began to crush my hand slightly and pulled me very close toward him as our hands shook. His voice was low and pretend intimidating, “And No. Jokes. About. You know what!” then he smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Oh, I don’t know any Scottish jokes” I deadpanned, sidestepping the ‘Postman Pat’ issue he probably had to deal with 100 times a day. He began to chuckle again, each time his muscles bunching up in ways I had never thought possible. “See you at four then!” He said, releasing my hand and leaving. After he left I stood there for a moment, not quite believing what had happened. I raised my hand to cover my mouth. Oh god. It smelt like him. Notes of his cotton polo shirt… his cologne… his sweat. It was all over my hand. I threw myself against the door and began to buck my hips uncontrollably. I was breathing him in, remembering how strong he was, how sweet he’d been, how handsome. Fuck those calf muscles. Lightly covered in hair. Could you imagine dropping to your knees and just fucking the split in them. Imagine doing that as he did calf raises, making them harder and jerking off your dick with the movement. Fantasy mixed with reality now, as I imagined him in my apartment; he was holding me in his huge arms, crushing me against his rock hard body like he’d crushed the package against it, the smell coming from his chest as he rubbed my face into him. I reached up for him, he picked me up of the floor, kissing me passio... I came violently in my jeans as I lost control of the fantasy, my hips still pounding. *** “It’s called power building. We mostly train for size and strength, but we try and stay nice and hard and in good shape too.” He said, slowly flexing his arm in the polo shirt. Good lord, how had I got here?! After my impromptu door wank I’d cleaned up and excitedly paced around waiting for 4 o’clock. He turned up at 4:10. Those last 10 minutes some of the longest and most stressful of my life. “Apologies for lateness; Mrs Fortescue at 42!”. Did he make that up? Was that Postman humour? “Oh are you? No worries, I didn’t notice anyway” I lied He took his bag off, the movement of which was like a bodybuilder posing, only his muscles seemed so much blockier, denser, harder, and he looked strong as two bodybuilders. He was nearly soaked through with sweat from his rounds in the sun. “You mind if I freshen up a bit?” “Sure. Bathroom’s just there” He turned sideways to go into the bathroom and shot me a little smile. Maybe I shouldn’t be goofily watching him go in and out! PSHHHHHHHHH He was taking a shower!!! My mind went into overdrive. That thick powerful body was being soaped up by those chunky muscular hands. Fuck! That sweaty man juice was pouring down his body into my drains. The shower stopped and I realised he’d be in there, rubbing a towel all over his rock hard body, that hairy chest, that blocky stomach. He’d be drying his round butt muscles, towelling of his cock and balls. His odour would be soaked into the towel for me to smell later. Maybe he was flexing in front of the mirror now. Pumping his muscles up for me. He’d wrap the towel around that powerbelly mid section, leaving his heaving upper body slightly damp, then strutt out t... “Cheers mate” he came out of the bathroom, back in his Postman’s uniform. “Let’s get this bad boy installed shall we?” *** I didn’t know someone unpacking a washing machine could be so sexy, but it was. There was no dithering or indecisiveness. The box was held together with strong industrial plastic straps. Patrick would just snap them apart in his hands. When he had to unpack from the other side, he would pick the whole thing up and turn it round in his hands. The whole thing was unpacked and set up in 15 minutes; he even plumbed it in and crushed the packaging up into a tight little ball for me. “No more dirty nickers now eh lad” he winked at me again and I died a little. “I honestly can’t thank you enough! Is there anything I can get you? Tea, coffee” He rubbed his stomach and said “I am a bit peckish; don’t suppose you got any scran going begging?” “Yes of course! Didn’t you have any lunch” “Well, yeah, but not since two hours ago!” “OK, well I can make an early dinner?” I offered He chuckled “this ain’t dinner time lad!” “Okaaaay.. I can make us a few chicken sandwiches for a snack if you like” “Perfect!” He smiled How many did he want. Two? Three? He suddenly looked a little embarrassed. “I don’t suppose I could have ten..” he hunched his shoulders apologetically, his traps bulged up around the girthy chords of neck muscle, reaching up to his ears. “TEN?!?” I guffawed “how’s that not your dinner?” “Hey!” He replied in faux indignation, like I’d called him fat “I just like sandwiches” he replied in a silly bashful manner, totally juxtaposed with his hench figure. I chuckled. “And anyway” he continued, all puppy dog eyes. “it takes a lot of calories to get muscles like this” He shot me a bit of a most muscular, bumping his fists together, biceps swelling up, a crease appearing in his shirt between the two goliath pecs as they pumped upwards and squeezed together, traps flaring up even more. He looked over his body at each of his swollen muscles, then up to me, gauging my reaction. I hadn’t waistbanded, and my cock sprung up to full length. In that one moment I could actually feel my balls producing a thick load of cum. “I better get started” I murmured, turning to the kitchen in order to hide my throbbing cock. I invited Patrick to take a seat and watch TV as I made sandwiches. He sat on my couch, which was a two seater. When I looked over, it almost looked like he was in an armchair. He sprawled out in a manly fashion, an arm on each rest, his beefy legs spread out. Mercifully conversation turned to his work. Turns out a Postman has some VERY interesting stories! He was funny and charming and had a knack for the anecdotal. My hands had been shaking as I started prepping the food, but as we chatted I got more and more relaxed. I used a whole loaf of bread and made 14 sandwiches, some salad and mayo, some peri peri sauce, others with seasoning and spices. I moved over to the couch and Patrick shifted over to the right, leaving just enough space for me to squeeze in. His eyes shone when I put the food down. “Fuckin crackin!” He said rubbing his hands together. As we ate, I couldn’t stop glancing back and forth between us. I felt tiny next to this behemoth, totally miniscule. We probably looked like one of those ‘comparison’ pics I often wanked over. I loved seeing a jacked up roided bodybuilder looming over some reedy fan. And now that was us. But in real life I noticed other things. Patrick’s big work boots must have been a size 12 compared to my size 8 Converse. This close up to his legs I realised how “20 inch plus calves” actually made you felt. Like a little boy in my case. I wanted nothing more than to reach down and grab one. And while I sat on top of the sofa cushion, Patrick sinked all the way back into it, till he got to the wooden frame. Seeing him enjoy the food so much really made my heart soar. He wasn’t just an insane muscle freak. He was a total sweetheart. I felt butterflies in my stomach and ordered myself to stop. I’d been here before and it was never what you thought it. The hunky plumber really had just left his spanner behind. The broadband man hadn’t turned out to be an IFBB pro bodybuilder. And this guy was just being decent and now having some sandwiches. Just.. save it for the wank bank later. He hoovered up what remained of the plate, including mine, which I hadn’t really touched. “That were smashing lad!” He said, a broad, heart melting smile on his face, still chewing. “Really? Aw, I’m glad you enjoyed them so much.” He started to stretch out, his legs and arms flexing straight in front of him, his chest swelled further upwards to his chin, making the last button on his polo shirt stretch at its hole. I’d never seen pecs that angled and square before. As he stretched harder the top formed an actual shelf of thick hard muscle, his chin disappearing into the dip between them. He started to vibrate in that way you do when your body’s really feeling it. His leg muscles were swelled up so thick and hard I was sure the fabric might tear. Then he began to relax back out of it. “Ooooooooooh, bout to pop though, d’ya mind?” He asked, already unbuckling his belt and top button of his trousers. His belly swelled out, engorged with food but still densely muscled on the surface, even if there wasn’t a six pack. As the top of his trousers came loose and his tucked in polo shirt was lifted, I noticed a strip of hair that ran down from his belly button and disappeared into a pair of grey briefs. Stop staring. As we sat there after our snack, I noticed Patrick rubbing his pecs with a meaty paw, emitting a low groaning sound as he did. I could barely take it. “Y’alright?” I ventured He glanced to me then back at the TV, rubbing his chest the whole time. His thick fingers weren’t denting the huge slabs of meat at all. “Oh aye lad. Intense chest pump yesterday you know” Talking about his muscles made my stomach turn and dick lurch. I was so awkward but wanted to know more. “Sooo… you’re some kind of bodybuilder or something?” I asked, realising what a hideous question it was. He sat up next to me, his beefy shoulder and tricep bulging into my tiny body, emphasising to me how huge he was. “Call me a bodybuilder again and you’ll know about it” he growled, squinting “It’s called power building. We mostly train for size and strength, but we try and stay nice and hard and in good shape too.” He flexed his arms, the left one bulging right into me like if a boulder could swell. My mouth went dry and my mind blank. I sat up straight and tried to focus on the TV. Patrick relaxed a little in contrast to my awkwardness, his arms dangling between his legs, our shoulders still in a row. He leant sideway, nudging into me “Hey” he said, breaking the ice. We turned to face each other. With a cocky raise of his eyebrows he asked, “you wanna see a trick?” *** I came back with the three 50 pence pieces, pretty sure this was the riddle you showed 5 year olds to explain molecules, tapping one with the other to make the third move without being ‘touched’. That, or “look how dirty your ears are! TA-DAH!” “I can’t imagine what this will be” I intoned, sarcastically. He smiled at me as I handed the coins to him and he pretty much threw one back right away “Catch!” He cried There was a sudden disconnect between what my brain was expecting and what I caught in my hand. I looked down. It was… a curled up 50 pence piece. Patrick was watching the TV, and flipping one of the coins over his knuckles like a gangster. People usually did that with £1 coins, but his fingers were thick enough that it worked just fine. He looked up at my slack jawed face, feigning ignorance at the whole thing. “Hmm?” He grunted “You… did you? … but you couldn’t even have time!” My brain ruminated as I sat back down next to him. “Hang on sec, have you got a bunch of these in your pocket ready to go?” I exclaimed, holding the rolled up 50p between us. Patrick cracked up and leaned right into my body as he giggled. I placed my hand on his bicep to steady us both. The feeling of his rock hard bicep under my fingers and his immense body vibrating against mine sent shockwaves through me. This was the first time I was touching a man’s muscles. And no amount of imagining it or jacking off to bodybuilder videos could have prepared for how good it felt. He grabbed the 50p as I held it, his rough hand wrapped around my fingers. I felt sick at how much he was turning me on. Patrick steadied himself up and placed the coin on the table, where it rolled back and forth for a bit. “Ok! I need a glamorous assistant” I pointed questioningly to myself, still in disbelief and he gave a nod, his brow furrowed again. “Would sir like to check that this is indeed a coin of Her Majesty’s Royal Mint?” He held the coin between us, and I went to take it from him, my hand now wrapping around his thick fingers and the coin. I tried to pull the coin away but he pinched harder and it wouldn’t budge. He sniggered smugly as I tried harder and harder. “Patrick!” “Sorry” “Ok. Yes this is in deed a coin of etc. Etc. Etc.!” I said, handing it back. Every time our hands touched my body yearned to be wrapped up in his arms. His strength was radiating in waves from his body. I felt small and weak, but at the same time protected and safe. “Watch” he said, pinching the coin between thumb and finger in each hand. “This time I’ll do it slowly so you knows there’s nos cheatin!” His melon sized forearms suddenly took on a grainy texture. They seemed to swell up an inch. He turned his face to look at me, gauging my reaction as I focused on the coin. He began to twist, and the cords of his thick forearms rippled, veins bulging out from them. The coin bent like paper in his strong fingers. He kept his eyes on my shocked face and placed the twisted coin down next to the rolled one. “Good trick?” He enquired, his face intense now My mouth just dropped open “You ready for the finale?” He said, excitedly. I nodded Patrick rolled the bottom of his shirt up slowly, revealing more bulging stomach muscle, his eyes still drinking in my reaction. He took the final coin and placed it on his tummy then pushed it up til it was out of sight underneath the tight confines of his uniform. He pulled his arm back out and rolled his top back down. “Finger” he ordered. He grabbed my whole hand, keeping my finger extended and moved it toward the valley between his immense pecs. They seemed to be moving on their own as he breathed, heavily now, rising and falling, twitching slightly. My finger came into contact with the centre of his polo shirt, right between his pecs, and I felt the cold hard 50p piece beneath. He had wedged it between his pecs and was holding it there easily with a light flex of his pecs. “Now push in” he commanded. I pushed, and immediately felt the coin bend beneath my touch. “Nnngh.. yeah, keep pushing” . Patrick was sweating slightly, and looking at me menacingly, a look of pride and determination on his face. “Uuuugh. Yes, push it” he moaned, as the coin folded in more. I understood why he had used my finger; to make sure it folded inward, and so that I could feel the sensation of metal being crushed by muscle. My other fingers brushed the surface of Patrick’s right pec. It was harder than the coin. His eyes widened like a wild beast and nostrils flared. “Ok take it away.” He barked. I did so, and my finger and the fabric of his shirt just managed to escape as the coin’s opposite sides started to turn in on each other. “YeeeEEAH uuuuugh!” He was growling now, and turning red, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. He brought his arms straight out in front of him to tighten the gap between his pecs and flexed his whole body hard. He bulged with muscle, his hands in fists as he bought his forearms towards each other, folding the coin flat. He was still looking at me, handsome and terrifying in the equal measure. “Aaaah!!! FUCK” he roared out. He started to bend his arms now, his biceps growing in front of me, actually swelling up bigger with each flex. He stood up and loomed over me, pushed his body slowly into a fully committed most muscular pose. “Mmmmmm… ngh.. Ngh… NNGGGH” He grunted as he flexed, harder, harder and harder into his pose, veins now covering his neck. The top of his pecs were pushed right up and peaked through the widening gap of his polo shirt, also bulging with veins and peppered with short hairs, the fabric stretched around his gargantuan body. All the while staring at me. “Yeeeeeeeah…” he growled loudly, bringing his fists together in the pose. His legs were flexed as well and the fabric was stretched so tight round his thighs I could see veins through the fabric. His whole body was like a map of London made from veins, some thick, some thin, wriggly and pulsating all over. He was bending down and forward in his most muscular, his face coming closer to mine. He growled through gritted teeth, spitting some saliva on me. “Now fucking, see, this!” He moaned In a second, his face softened. He stood up straight and let out a big sigh of relief. Then, raising his arms, he pulled his shoulders back as far as his densely muscled body would allow. His chest opened up and the chunk of metal dropped to the floor with a clunk. He raised his eyebrows cockily and nodded to the floor, indicating I should pick it up. It was right between his feet. I felt dizzy as my trembling hand reached down, between his insanely developed calf muscles, still popping with veins from flexing. The metal was warm and felt weightier than a 50p. It had indeed been completely folded in half leaving no gap. It wasn’t flat though. It had a distinct little wave in it. Oh fuck! It was the shape of the striations between Patrick’s pecs. I held it in my hands, trying to fathom the strength in his body. A man standing just a few inches away from me could crush a 50p piece between his pecs. My body started to double over on itself, a little like the coin, as I desperately tried not to cum. He sat back down, leaning further into me than ever, took the coin from my hand and placed it next to the other two. A role, a twist and a wave. I leaned past him, over the table. I turned to look at him, our faces a few inches from each other now, then back over the table. I leaned closer to the coins, looking at the details that had been smudged away by pressure. Did the twist have fingerprints in it? And then OOOW FUCK! My back spasmed and I threw my hands down on the table to steady myself. Patrick’s big meaty right paw came down on my slender hand to steady and reassure me. An intense moment of pleasure through the pain. He was by my side in an instant, crouched down next to me. “Your back?” He asked, concern in his voice. I screwed my face up to answer ‘yes’. He immediately took control of the situation. “Listen. Push up with your left arm and roll into me. Don’t try to sit or stand” he instructed. I did as he said. I found him effortlessly turning my body over as I rolled into him, and found his arms wrapping round me, lifting me up. “Put your arm around my neck”. I did so, and it came into contact with the beefy girth of his pumped traps. He stood up like I weighed nothing more than the shirt on his body, holding me in exactly the position I had spasmed, ensuring no new pain entered my body, and moved quickly to my bedroom where he laid me down on my side. “Ok, how’s this; let me know if there’s any pain” A strong hand was on my left shoulder and squeezed it powerfully, his thumb making small circular movements on my neck. His right hand began rubbing my back over my shirt, gently. Slowly but surely, his touch got firmer, and the pain began seeping away. I let out a moan of relief. “That good?” He checked Good? This was fucking fantastic. “Mmhmm!” “Ok, stretch out flat”. I’m not sure why he said it, as he was now moving my body for me, his hands moving my shoulders up, then pulling my legs down, finally pushing me flat face down on the bed. He stopped for a moment. I heard him move around a little behind me. Then he removed my shoes. He resumed rubbing my back again, kneading it, squeezing my shoulders which drove me crazy and occasionally grazing my neck. My cock started to stiffen again. This was crazy to me. Normally being such a visual person I wouldn’t have thought it would happen. But feeling his hands on me now, hands that could crush metal be so gentle, and his musky smell now returning since his intense flexing, I couldn’t help popping wood. “Uuuuuuuuuh” I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t sexual, it was just the best massage I’d ever had in my life. I felt Patrick giggle a bit “That doing it for you?” He asked “Oh Patrick it feels fucking amazing!” I replied “Oh yeah?” “Seriously, better than ever” I really did. All the pain had melted away and my back felt fantastic. “Ok take it easy lad. I’m gonna fix you up ok. You’ll have no more back trouble after this” He bought one of his colossal thighs right up between my legs, the tear drops of the leg nudging my balls. I had to spread my legs and raise my butt to accommodate the sheer size of it. I sensed his other leg leave the floor and kneel on the bed, supporting his weight above my body.. “One of the physios taught me this and it’s magic” he whispered in my ear. A huge paw scooped up around my neck and grabbed the opposite shoulder. My neck felt the blood pumping through his swollen forearm. Another slid between my rib cage and the bed. As his powerful muscular arms grew tighter around me, I began to feel Patrick’s huge pecs press into my back a little. It felt wonderful, but.. I was suddenly reminded of the washing machine from earlier, and how Patricks chest had popped holes right through the packaging. “Umm… Patrick.. buddy? Are you sure about this” He drew a deep breath through his nose. When he spoke, his voice seemed to break, like he might be angry. “Do you think I’d hurt you lad?” He whispered I could hardly well say ‘Yes’ if I thought he would. But I trusted him. “No, sorry” He spoke again. “This only lasts a moment. It shouldn’t be painful, but it can be intense. You won’t hurt any more after this. If it does start to hurt while I’m doing it, say immediately won’t you?” “Yes” I said, softly. “Ok, here goes” He rocked his hips forward and put the weight of his lower body on mine. My throbbing dick was forced into the mattress and pulsated at the feeling. At the same time, Patrick began to flex and blow out his powerful stomach. I felt a pop at the base of my spine. He applied more weight and started to flex his right arm around my rib cage. His hand was on the other side and pressed in. Two more pops. My cock lurched beneath me and my hips bucked once, as much as Patrick’s weight would allow. As my butt rocked up I felt Patrick chubbing. I was sure there were only two layers of fabric between us now. My jeans and his cotton grey briefs. He must have removed his trousers during the massage. My hips involuntarily pumped back and forth once more. Patrick’s body started to stretch out as it had on the sofa earlier, his thighs rubbing past mine. He applied more weight and began rolling his pecs slowly and gently into me. Then more weight was applied as he flexed them hard into my back. I felt a row of pops as Patrick crushed my body, aligning my spine using his dense symmetrical muscles. I let out a whimper as I tried to rock my hips back and forth. They barely moved a few millimetres under Patrick’s immense mass of muscle. But the sensation was enough for cum to start backing up in my shaft. I could feel the veins on my dick throbbing, trapped between myself and the mattress, the head grinding into the rough denim of my jeans. I was sure I could feel Patrick’s dick swell harder too, even between his briefs and my jeans. More weight, and now his left arm was flexing around my neck and shoulders. I felt two pops between my shoulder blades and let out another whimper. By now, Patricks thick bearded jaw was pressing up against my cheek and I could hear a ticking sound like a croak coming from his throat. He was fully stretched out and on top of me now, and the sensation of his muscular body on top of and all around my body began to overwhelm me. His smell was filling the room. Sweat, cotton and man. I inhaled deeply, remembering my wank from earlier in the day. My hips where lashing back and forth wildly and I began to feel Patrick thrust his hips against my butt. The feeling of the pops up my back and my throbbing erection meant I couldn’t stifle noise any more and I let out an intense moan. Patrick’s thrusts and bear hug intensified and it started to approach more than my body could cope with. “mm.. mm.. mm..” Patrick was emitting a low grunting sound as he thrust his hips and squeezed harder “...Patrick” “Mm.. mm.. huuuh” “Patrick!” I wimpered again “HUuuuuu” “Patrick it’s hurting!” Patrick’s bear hug got no tighter. He locked his arms into a rigid square of beef around me, allowing me to breath, but not much else. He took two last thrusts into me and stopped solid. His body froze and started to vibrate intensely, like it had earlier when he stretched out on the sofa “Hnnnnnnnnnnnngh uuuuuuuh” it almost wasn’t a sound, more like one long low guttural moan. I felt a moist sensation seep through my jeans to my butt. Patrick unwrapped his arms and pushed his weight up off me. He began tenderly rubbing my shoulders again. “Feeling all fixed?” He murmured. Whaaaaat??! OK, my back felt fixed, but you wanna tell me that was therapy? Oh god and I was precumming hard now. “Yeah… Feels amazing Patrick” “Good” he moved his hands around my rib cage and I couldn’t help but giggle a little. I heard Patrick moan behind me as my body wriggled against his. “Your back all better?” He asked caringly “Yeeeah. It feels so good” I cooed. Patrick moved his hands back to my shoulders and rubbed firmly. He was half whispering, half growling now. “How does this feel?” I squirmed at the pleasure that rippled through my body as he worked my shoulders and let out a little squeal. Patrick gulped “How does this feel?” He grabbed my neck in his paw, his other hand groping my body all over. I felt owned “That’s really nice” my head was spinning with pleasure “And how does this feel?” A pair of wet lips pressed into my neck and paused there. Thick hairy beard and soft moist mouth. I felt the tip of his tongue on my neck, and then he pushed his lips together and kissed me. His mouth came close to my ear “You taste as sweet as you look son” He whispered. I moaned loudly. I my cock was building up to a huge ejaculation. “Come here baby” Patrick growled menacingly as he flipped me over in a single movement. He was on his knees leaning back now, a scary look in his eyes, a half smile on his face. I looked down at at his crotch. It was one of the biggest loads I’d ever seen. His powerful orgasm had shot a huge load right through his briefs and my jeans, and a huge gob of cum was still dripping down the outside of his briefs along the outline of his cock which was getting hard again. Patrick began unzipping my jeans and ripping them off me. His face lit up like Christmas when he saw my throbbing precum soaked briefs stretched over my twitching cock. “Oh son what’s this. Getting turned on by dad’s big muscles are ya?” He flexed a grotesque double bicep, exploding out of his red polo shirt that was sopping with sweat again, grunting and bucking his hips up at the same time. Since we first met this morning he looked like he had packed on an inch of muscle. He threw himself down on all four and began rubbing my cock with his belly. My briefs were barely there now, but the sensation of his muscular belly under the texture of his red polo shirt was getting me ready to squirt. He leaned back on his knees, straddling my thighs and struggled to remove the red top from his body. “Help me son.” He roared. I leaned up and helped him peel the shirt off, brushing his lats during the process. He placed a meaty paw on my chest and threw me back onto the bed. “Mmm… like touching your daddy’s muscles son?” I nodded and moaned yes. “Yeah you do. You’ve wanted to feel daddy’s thick hard pecs are all day haven’t you?” “Oh fuck yes daddy” I went to grab my dick in one hand and squeeze a pec in the other, finally allowing myself the release that was surging inside me, but Patrick caught both and slammed down on top of me. “Not yet son”. He said, licking my neck. He straddled right over my crotch, so my dick was pressing up into his taint and balls, and pinned my arms to my sides with his legs. “Aaaaaaaa fuck daddy” I moaned. Patrick’s eyes went wild again. “Do you like that son? Do you like feeling your daddy’s 350 lbs of sweaty muscle massage your boy cock like that?” Patrick’s dick was fully hard again, twitching of its own accord in his cum soaked grey briefs as he spoke. He grabbed and started throttling it over the fabric. “What are you anyway son? 160, 70?” “I … I dunno. 11 stone” I answered. Patrick jacked off even more severely “Oh son. You don’t know your pounds from your stone? Well let daddy learn you. I’m 25 stone or rock solid muscle. And you’re my weak little 165 lb boy”, he said, getting even more worked up and grunting between breaths. “I weigh more than twice what you are and am 10 times stronger”. He flexed his other arm, looking down at me watch it swell. Patrick was rotating his hips around as he said this, and bucking his hips up and down, his cock swelling in his clenched hand. Sweat was dripping down his face and body. He threw his body on top of me and we finally had our first proper kiss. It was passionate, terrifying, dominating and liberating all at once. Patrick loosened his grip on my arms and spread his weight back over my body again, his legs still either side of me pumping his dick into mine. My hands found his biceps and groped around madly. “Fucking crazy for dad’s rock solid muscles aren’t you son?” “Oh daddy. You’re so fucking big and strong!” Patrick thrust even harder, stimulating both out cocks at the same time. “Yeah son. Feel daddy flex his muscles for you” Patrick flexed another intense most muscular into my body and growled. “You’re so weak and tender son. Daddy’s got you now though. He’s gonna protect you in his powerful arms and huge chest. Squeeze your little body in lad!” I was juddering at his words, one last effort at holding my cum back. “Feel that chest son. Touch your daddy’s muscular hard chest!” “I’m gonna cum daddy!” I moaned Patrick’s face looked ecstatic to see me reaching my climax. He bear hugged and kissed me, his sweat dripping down his face into my mouth. He pressed 350lbs of muscle against me, moving a huge leg in between mine, so I was thrusting up against his veiny thigh. My thrust became erratic and uncontrollable. My arms wrapped tight around his thick lats as I got ready to unload. Looking deep into my eyes he whispered “daddy loves you” “Uuuuuuuuuuuh. Fuck!” Just like his, my ejaculation rocketed through my briefs and into him. He smiled warmly at me, as he moved his hand down and wrapped it round my cock. “Huuuuuuuuu uuuuh! Shiiiiit” I was nowhere near done cumming, and now felt his rough textured palm enveloping my dick over my briefs, rubbing up and down. I grabbed a thick swollen thigh in my left hand and squeezed my right hand tight around his which was still rubbing my cock. I squirted another two thick volleys of cum right through my briefs, covering his bulging forearm. He looked as happy at this as I felt, my entire body shaking from the orgasm. “Mmmm… good boy”. He purred in my ear and started to kiss my face all over. He started up grinding into me again. “Ok son, talk to daddy, tell him how much you love him” “Completely daddy. I love how you take care of me” Patrick moaned loudly at this, and his hand flew back to his dick to beat off. “Aaaaw yeah. That’s right! What else” he muttered through gritted teeth. “You’re so big and strong. I love when you put your arms around me and make me feel safe and protected. I’m your small weak boy. I love that I have your big muscles to look after me.” “Aah FUCK.. yes! Keep going” “You’re my big strong daddy and I love you” Patrick popped up onto his knees, shaking all over, his muscles bulging with power. He grabbed my face with his free hand and forced his thumb in my mouth where I sucked it. “Take daddy’s fucking seed son!” He roared. His dick exploded ropes of thick warm jizz all over me, the first shot hitting my face, then massive globs landing all over my shirt. A final dribble surged up like a fountain, running down his hands and onto my balls. He fell back on top of my body and wrapped me up in a huge bear hug. He let out a long low satisfied sigh and it vibrated through me. He began kissing my face all over again, finishing in a long kiss on the mouth, our tongues and lips going crazy for eachother. We lay there for a while. Patrick was breathing heavily and the sensation of his body rocking against mine made my cock swell again. He rubbed it, gently, as if he possessed it. “I want to see you again” Patrick finally said. “I wanna see a lot of you again” he added. He held me tightly now in the spoon position. “You’re special to me, do you know that?” He kissed my neck again, the same spot where he had first kissed me. “I haven’t felt like this for a long long time son. I thought I might never feel like this again” he said. “Patrick?” I turned my head to face him. “I’ve never felt like this. I never thought I would” “How so son?” His brow furrowing in that way I knew I would never be able to get enough of. “Safe” Patrick’s cock swelled, and he breathed in deeply, his face betraying a multitude of emotions. We kissed again and lay there. After a few minutes I felt his cheek smiling against mine. “So apart from all day tomorrow when you’re calling in sick to work, when am I going to see you again?” He asked His fingers found my ribs and he started tickling my sides, making me wriggle against his hard body. “Stop it!!! Ummm… I have a dishwasher coming next week?” I joked “Hmmmmmmmm…” he moaned and pulled me in tighter. “Make sure they leave it outside”
  21. Dork to Beast, Pt 5

    Since his dad had the day off, Danny borrowed his Range Rover to drive up to college for his first wrestling practice. "Dad, I'm taking the Rover," Danny said as he grabbed the keys on his way out to the garage. "What?" said his dad. "But I'm going to need it later." "You can use my old Honda. I'm too big for it now." "Danny, put those keys back," said his dad, although his voice did not have the authority in it that it used to. Danny stopped in the doorway, but he didn't turn back. He was wearing his singlet with a pair of sweatpants. He'd had to special order a size 5XL singlet, and even at that, it was a little snug. His backspread was broader than Craig Golias's. "Tell ya what, Pops," he said. "I'll arm wrestle you for them." They both knew it would take at least 6 men his dad's size to win that contest. "Never mind, take it. But just this once," said his dad, diplomatically. "Ok, if you insist, "said Danny on his way out. "You should probably upgrade to a Hummer soon, cause even your car is a tight fit for me now." Danny took off out of the driveway, and headed to school. A trucker almost drove off the highway when he saw Danny's arm hanging out the window of the car. Especially when Danny flexed it at him. "You'd think he'd never seen a 24" peak before," Danny said to himself. When he got to the gymnasium, some of the wrestling squad was already there. As he walked in, he heard murmurings like "holy shit," "Jesus" "look at the size of that guy". Danny chuckled to himself. This was going to be so much different than when he'd gone out for wrestling in high school when he was a soft chubby kid. Even the head coach was taken aback, because the last time he'd seen Danny he was in civilian clothes, not a singlet, which tended to show off every inch of his mass. Plus the fact that Danny had gained 30lbs of muscle since they'd first met. His shoulders were half again wider than the next biggest heavyweight guy on the squad. As Danny sauntered over to the other wrestlers, the coach thought to himself 'If we don't win state this year, I'm never going to.' He started pairing the guys off into sparring partners. Danny was the only one left, when Jack walked into the gym. "You're late, Dick. I mean Jack," said the coach. He'd told his wife just last night that he got at least one every year, a kid that he would nickname 'Dick Head'. They were always the cockiest jocks, who took their athletic abilities for granted, because they'd been blessed with them since they were in grade school. Guys he liked to take down a peg or two. This year, he had a good chance with Jack. "Meet your training partner, Jack. This is Danny." Jack looked over at Danny, and took a step back. "What? Coach, this guy is way outta my weight class." "Yeah, I can see that. But you were late, and he's the only guy that's not paired up yet, so there ya go. Maybe he'll get you to work a little harder." Hopefully, he'll knock the cocky out of you, thought the coach. "Now, stretch out for a little bit, then let's do some skill drills, guys." As the practice went on, things didn't go well for Jack. Danny mopped the mats with him. What little Danny remembered from his short stint in high school wrestling came back to him quickly. And every move Jack tried on him, he powered out of easily, then used the move on Jack, to great effect. A half hour into it, and Jack was gasping from breath. He'd been flopped all over the gym floor. Flipped and flopped, like a sack of flour. Except for a slight shimmer of sweat shining on his body, Danny was fresh as a daisy. He started putting Jack in holds, then flexing as he held him pinned in place. The coach noticed the showboating, and would normally call a wrestler out for it, but he was enjoying this. Whenever he got a chance, Danny would dig his big knee into a vulnerable part of Jack's body, like his lower back, his ankles, his elbows. Danny could see why Dwayne liked fighting. As he pinned Jack to the floor face down, with his elbow pressing hard into Jack's scapula, Danny leaned into his former bully's ear and said, "Try and move, ant." All Jack could do was grunt a muffled 'fuckkk'. It made Danny's groin throb with pleasure. He picked Jack up, threw him over his shoulders, and started doing lunges the full length of the gym. Back and forth, back and forth, till his quads where burning and bloated full. Then he tossed Jack back to the mats, and starting working him over again. After an hour of abuse, the coach called for a break, and Jack had to crawl to the edge of the mats to recover. Most of the guys on the team had been watching Danny manhandle the state champ like a ragdoll. During the break, they asked him questions about his training and diet. Danny flexed as he answered them. More than one of the guys boned up in their shorts watching their massive teammate show off his size, especially when he pulled the straps of his singlet off his huge shoulders and rolled it down just past his waistband of his jock strap. There was a gasp when he pulled his sweats down to his ankles, exposing his tree trunk quads. His muscular development was far beyond anything they'd ever seen. He let them feel his muscles, and even though they were all in great shape, none of them had ever felt muscle this hard. Even the coach couldn't hide his hardon. "Ok, guys, let's call it a day. Go hit the showers. Danny, let me talk to you for a second," said the coach. Danny pulled up his sweats and came over to him, and the pheromones coming off his big muscle made Coach's hardon pulse with his increased heartbeat. "I like what you were doing today, Danny," as he realized that even Danny's hands were twice the size and thickness of Jack's, " but try not to break him into pieces. I'm still counting on him to win a state title in his weight class." "Ok, Coach," Danny said, clenching his big fists until he heard the knuckles crackling. He felt like fighting five Jacks at once. But then Jack came limping over toward them, keeping his distance from his huge wrestling partner. "Coach," said Jack, "you make me practice with him again, I'm quitting the team." His skin was all ruddy and welted from Danny's holds on him. "Shut up," snapped the coach. "You'll lose your scholarship if you do that, cause I know you're not here based on your academics. Stop being a pussy, and go hit the showers before I have Danny bounce you around the gym like a basketball. " Coach gave Danny a wink, and as Jack hobbled away, grumbling, Danny flinched at him. Jack flinched away in fear, and scurried to the lockers. Danny and the coach laughed. _ . _ Meanwhile, back at Danny's house, Dwayne knocked at the side door. When Danny's dad answered the door, Dwayne said, "Hey, Mr K, how you doing?" Danny's dad stepped back a little and looked Dwayne up and down. "Who are you?" he asked, not recognizing Danny's long time friend, who, the last time he saw him, was 5'6" and about 120lbs soaking wet. The guy at the door was a good 5'11, 200lbs of strapping, zero body fat, muscle. "Mr K, it's me, Dwayne," he said, muscling his way past Mr K and into the kitchen. He was wearing a sweat-soaked UA shirt that clung to his torso like a second skin, showing every rippling muscle. He gave off a thick scent of sweat and pheromones that filled the kitchen. He strutted over to the fridge, opened it, and grabbed a bottle of water, and guzzled it down. "Help yourself," said the older man. "Thanks, Mr K," said Dwayne, ignoring the sarcasm. Then he walked from the kitchen into the family room. Mr K could see, right thru Dwayne's nylon running shorts, how perfectly rounded his glutes were, as they rolled with every step he took. And he could see the extreme V-taper of back. If Mr K hadn't seen his own son's transformation in the last month or so, he would never believe that this was the same nerdy kid that used to hang out around the house. "It's kinda hot in here. Mind if I take off my shirt?" said Dwayne, stripping his shirt over his head without waiting for an answer. He balled up his wet tee and tossed it on the couch. He stretched out his torso, raising his arms over his head. Glistening muscle rippled out all over him. He wore a thick chain around his neck with a Superman "S" medallion hanging from it. "I just came from a CrossFit competition. I heard about it on the radio, so I signed up as a walk-on. I won every heat. Crushed it. Didn't even know what half the events were, but the guys there were real friendly about showing me. The chicks too. Most of them seemed to know each other, and they were all real interested in getting to know me, find out where I trained, what my routine was. You shoulda seen their faces when I told them I'd never done any of it before. Funny how those jock types never seemed to notice me before, except to mess with me. Now they notice me though. You okay, Mr K? You look a little pale." Danny's dad was in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. He was in awe. He noticed how perfect Dwayne's teeth were, straight, white, sparkling. But weren't Dwayne's teeth crooked and sort of yellowish? Suddenly, Dwayne grinned, and ran his tongue across his dazzling pearly white teeth. "Dwayne, are you... reading my mind?" "Not really, I'm just reading your expression. I saw you looking at my teeth, and I know you were thinking 'didn't he have shitty teeth before?' And 'wasn't he a skinny weakling who I used to enjoy intimidating when he came over to visit my son, even though I'm the adult and should know better?' So I guess you could say I'm sort of reading your mind." Then he flexed his rock hard pecs at him. Mr K had to admit it was true, he had thought those things of Dwayne. Mr K had been very athletic, and even now, had a hard time not feely disdain for men or boys who were not. He'd felt that way about his own son, as hard as he tried not to. "Check out my abs," said Dwayne, changing the subject, and clenching his 8pack that was stone slab flat. "They're a little tighter than yours now, Mr K. Watch this," he said, and flexed his gut muscles. Each brick in his 8pack clenched and squared off into 4 striated blocks. "Looks like I got a 32pack, don't it?" he said, strumming his fingers up and down the muscle. "Yeah," said Dwayne, "looks like bullets would bounce off them. And maybe they would. " He pinched some ab skin and tugged on it, and it pulled up like tightly wrapped cellophane. When he let go, the skin snapped back into place. "I have a fight tonight, Mr K. You should come watch." "A fight?" said Mr K, barely able to form words as he stared at Dwayne's densely packed muscularity. "What kind of fight?" "An MMA fight. My first official one." Dwayne plopped down in Mr K's favorite leather lounge chair. "Fuck, I'm horny," he said, adjusting himself in his sweats. "You ever feel so horny that you could pick up a piece of furniture and fuck it?" "Maybe," said Mr K. He couldn't believe how handsome Dwayne had become. He looked like a heavily muscled, Russian Zac Ephron. His eyes were so clear and sparkling blue. And didn't he used to wear thick nerdy glasses? "I used to, yeah. My eyesight has improved," said Dwayne, casually. "My eye doc says I've got 20/5 vision now. Like an eagle." "You are reading my mind!" said Mr K. "Again, not really. Just saw you looking at my eyes. Why don't you come in for a closer look?" And Mr K felt himself being drawn toward Dwayne, aching to be closer. to catch his scent, to feel the heat coming off him. "Why don't you get on your knees, Mr K?" And Mr K felt his knees almost buckle underneath him as he went down to the floor. "Come over here and put your hands on my legs," said Dwayne. His voice had become deep and sexy, like a hot male porn star, with a drawl of extreme confidence. Dwayne reached into his sweats and pulled out his big dick. It plopped out, half-engorged and swelling fast. His musky scent hit Mr K like a drug. "Feed off me," said Dwayne. "I bet my muscle batter will help get rid of your dad paunch." Mr K was taken aback. He didn't have a dad bod! Yet, he knew he did. He just hoped he was fooling people by sucking his paunch in as much as he could. "You're not fooling anyone. Now feed off me," said Dwayne. And Mr K went down on him, aching for that big perfectly shaped cockhead more than anything he'd ever wanted. Dwayne grabbed him by his ears and guided him for awhile. He wondered if he should tell Mr K that he was sucking the same big cock that had been up Danny's ass the night before, but he decided not to. Instead, he let go of his ears, and grabbed onto the arms of the lounge chair, arching and bucking into Mr K's face. His cockhead had become vastly more sensitive to touch, and the pleasure of being serviced by an eager mouth made every powerful muscle in his body tense up. The sensation was transcendent. He arched his head back on the chair, his powerful neck bulging out wide. His strong, veiny hands pushed on the arms of the chair until the wooden frame snapped underneath the leather with a muffled Crack. Dwayne's precum was flowing freely out of his big helmet head, lubing up Mr K's throat, and it didn't take long before Dwayne was spewing out a huge load of hot cream, flooding Mr K with his muscle batter. "Awwww, yehh," growled Dwayne, as he spewed and spewed, rope after rope of thick paste. Mr K did his best to drain every drop of it. "Nice," said Dwayne, pulling Mr K's head off his hardon. "We'll have to do this again, soon," he said, stuffing his still hard python into his shorts. "I gotta get going for my fight. Sorry about your chair, Mr K. I'll pay for it with the money I'm gonna win tonight." He grabbed his shirt, balling it up into one hand. As he walked thru the kitchen, Dwayne looked around and said, "You know, if you ever want to remodel in here, let me know. I'd love to rip out these granite countertops." He put his fingers on the edge of the granite and lifted up. There was a loud crunching sound as the countertop lifted upward about an inch. "Yeah," said Dwayne, "these are loose. Time for an upgrade, Mr K." Then he left. Mr K watched from the kitchen door as Dwayne jogged down the driveway and up the street. He put his hand on his paunch, and thought it already felt flatter and harder. It couldn't be though, could it?
  22. Plane Muscle

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

    Part One "What's the matter, lad?" "Grandfather, will I ever be as strong as you are?" "Now, now, Henry, give yourself time. You're just a lad!" As Henry Cardigan, grandson of Lord Cardigan and father of the House of Lords, sank into his grandfather's muscular chest and bawled his eyes out, Lord Cardigan knew the reason for his grandson being so upset. He was by far the smallest member of the Cardigan family, standing a mere four foot six inches tall and aged just eleven, he was always being bullied by the older children at the school he attended on the Westminster estate and this really got Lord Cardigan deep in his heart. After all he was the strongest man in the House of Lords, whenever they had a tug of war with the House of Commoners he was always at the lead. Indeed just last week he had helped the Lords to their sixteenth annual win, a feat that caused the leader of the House of Commoners, Oliver Cromwell, the member for Oxford to say, half jokingly "It's enough to make you want to ban you from attending!" but as Henry's sobs continued, Lord Cardigan decided to try and help his grandson by telling him a story about his days as a Musketeer in France during the reign of Louis XIII when, as part of a secret mission by the former First Minister George Villiers, the Duke of Buckingham, he had met a man who had made him the man he was today. "That man" he said, holding up Henry's head, "was a living Titan. Before I met him I was like you, Henry, but in the ten years I spent in France, he taught me everything he knew about being strong and powerful. If you promise to listen to my stories about him, I will ask you a question when I have finished. Do you understand my lad?" Henry nodded and with that Lord Cardigan began. "He and I got on like a house on fire, Henry" he started, "indeed when I first met him I accidentally challenge him and his friends to a duel, but we soon became best friends and for that first year he was always telling me tales about how big and strong he was. I shall now tell you the first tale he told me, about his grandfather, called Antoine and a feat of strength and power that sealed his legend in the land of his birth!" "What was this man's name?" asked Henry, rubbing his eyes "Porthos" came the reply Prompted by the recent postings about older men who are fairly muscled, I thought it might be interesting to post a story about some of the feats of strength that Porthos, his father and his grandfather got up to as mentioned in the stories by Alexandre Dumas in that context.
  24. Dork to Beast, Pt 4

    Danny continued to grow. His trainer Ivan had been right. Despite the fact that he hadn't lifted any weights in the two weeks that Ivan had been in Europe, Danny had beefed up to 325lbs of solid muscle. When Ivan got back from his trip to Poland and Russia, he was duly impressed by his young client's gains. "You sure you weren't working out with another trainer while I was gone," Ivan teased Danny. "Nope. Just ripped up a couple trees here and there," answered Danny. "Ha. You are funny, kid. But just wait, you are only going to get better. I brought back that new 'supplement' I told you about." Ivan held out his hand, which was holding a bunch of small black pills. "These are called Black Russians, and are the newest supp to come out of eastern Europe. The Russians are using them to develop a whole new generation of superathletes." Danny looked at the pinhead-sized pills. "They're so small," he said, picking up one pill with two of his thick fingers and examining it. "Small, yes, but powerful. And easy to get into country, attached to my jacket like beading." "I'm joining the wrestling squad when I go to college next week. What if I get tested?" "Nothing will show. These special vitamins work directly on your DNA strands, lengthening and improving your teleomeres." "So we're like a genetic experiment?" asked Danny. "Yes," said Ivan. "One that is working." "You have enough of those to share with a friend of mine?" Danny asked. Then he told Ivan about Dwayne. At first, Ivan freaked out a little, but when Danny told him about Dwayne having been an even bigger dweeb than Danny had been, and where he was now, Ivan got a kick out of it. "So now your little buddy is doing mixed martial arts?" "Yep. He says it's like his brain memorized all the moves he watched on youtube vids. He's beating all the other guys at his gym, no matter what weight class. He outmaneuvers them, outpowers them, pins them." "How much he weigh?" "He went from a dweeby 120 to a granite hard 159." "He's beating guys bigger than him then?" "He told me he pinned a 250lb guy the other night. Took him less than 15 seconds." Ivan laughed. "Just wait till your bud tries some of these." "So it's cool?" "Sure is, kid. I'm kinda liking getting you former dorks all swole and cocky. And just wait till your little bud tries this stuff out. Chances are he'll never get huge, but it will maximize other skills laying latent inside him." "What about me?" "You got such a big-boned frame, you'll be holding a solid 400 plus in no time. With strength beyond reason." "Let's get started then," said Danny, hungrily. After two weeks of three hour a day workouts, Danny met Ivan's prediction, weighing in at a solid 410. Ivan didn't train with him anymore, but simply helped add plates to Danny's stacks of weights. Danny was benching 800lbs for his warmup. And squatting 1000lbs for reps, till his quads ballooned to 40+ inches of brute muscle thickness. He had gotten hairier all over, even his back, and he liked it cause it made him feel like a massive blond gorilla. Dwayne, on the other hand, had gotten better and better at his MMA fights, so much so that the gym owner had him taking on two guys at once. Dwayne had yet to lose. He and Danny waited two weeks before seeing each other. They'd both be leaving for college in a week after that, so they wanted to check each other's progress. They met up at the city's athletic fields, where there were tennis courts, basketball courts, three softball fields and a small football stadium. When they pulled up next to each other in the parking lot, got out and looked each other over, they simultaneously said, "Fuck, dude!" "Man, you're ginormous!" said Dwayne. "What are you, 380?" "414 this morning," said Danny, puffing out his ape chest. "And look at you, man. What are you wearing?" "It's a 100lb weighted vest. I wear it for wind sprints. I'm up to a mere 180lbs, a punk next to you, but my body fat's at 1.5%. And I've been running 100-yard dashes in under 10." "Dude, that's like world class." "I know. And that's with the vest on." "How fast without??" "I don't know. Wanna race?" "Fuck yeh, ya little squirt." They went over to the football field and got on the goal line. "One, two, three go," blurted Dwayne, and he took off. Danny started after his friend. Sod flew behind their feet as Dwayne shot ahead like a bullet. But Danny, despite his size, was extraordinarily fast, and almost caught up with him, finishing a fraction of a second behind his smaller buddy. "Dude, you little cheat," said Danny. "Here's what I outta do to you..." He waddled over to the goalpost, wrapped his hands around it, and bent it until the two posts arms hit the field. Dwayne had to dodge out of the way of one of them as it came down. "Hey, I told you I learned to run fast getting away from those bullies in high school," laughed Dwayne. "I don't think you'd have any trouble doing that now. But I doubt that you'd need to run anymore." "I think you're right. I have my first sanctioned fight coming up this weekend. And if I win, I'm thinking of deferring college for a year." "No shit?" "Yeh, man, I'm loving this fighting. And my gym owner gets hard thinking of the matches I could win with him training me. Thing is, I'm already holding back so I don't hurt someone too bad. I sense it when I'm fighting someone, how much stronger I am. It's a rush." They started walking back to the parking area, crossing one of the softball fields. Dwayne found a baseball bat that someone had left by the dugout. "Think I could snap it across my knee?" he asked Danny. "Try holding it straight out, one hand on each end. Snap it that way." "OK," said Dwayne, grinning. He held the bat at arm's length and tightened his grip. His forearm muscles flexed up like ropey, sinewy iron. The velcro straps of his weighted vest tore apart at the seams as his shoulders, chest and lats spread out with effort. Then the bat snapped. Like a toothpick. Even Dwayne was surprised by how fast and easy it broke. "Fuck," he said, as he looked down at the two bat pieces, one in each hand. "Fuck is right, man. That is some sick arm strength," said Danny. "God, that felt good," said Dwayne. "Hey, isn't that Tip's car in the parking lot?" asked Danny. Dwayne looked over at the nearby lot, and saw the red Dodge Charger with the vanity license plate that said "Tipster". "It sure as hell is," he said, his face reddening. He remembered how just seeing that car used to fill him with dread. His grip on the bat pieces increased unconsciously, until the wood cracked under his fingers, splintering apart. He dropped the bat pieces to the ground, then pulled off his weighted vest. "Hold this for me," he said, handing his 100lb vest to Danny, who took it with his pinkie finger. Dwayne made his way over to the Charger. He walked around the car, looking it over, when he heard a voice from behind him say, "Don't touch the car, man." It was Tip, coming back from a jog, all blond and oozing with arrogance. Every memory of being bullied by Tip came flooding back to Dwayne's mind as he saw the cocky jock walking up to his pride and joy. "You mean like this?" said Dwayne, as he took a swipe at the car's side mirror, knocking it off so that it swung by wires against the car's door. "What the fuck????" said Tip. "You don't remember me, do you?" said Dwayne. Tip stared at him hard, but Dwayne could tell he had no idea who he was. He could hardly blame him. The last time Tip saw him, he'd weighed 120lbs of soft nerd, and he was face down in the dirt. Since then, he'd gained 70lbs of steely muscle, his jaw line had squared off, he had a jutting Adam's apple on a neck that was corded with muscle, and he had rivers of veins running up and down his arms. His eyes had improved to 20/20 vision, so he was no longer wearing his thick glasses either. "You remember a kid you used to call the Dweeb? The one you used to chase down and make him eat dirt? The one you used to slam into the lockers in front of everyone." "What the fuck...." stammered Tip, a hint of recognition hitting him. "That kid doesn't exist anymore," said Dwayne. "Now it's just this one." He grabbed the dangling mirror and ripped it free of its wires. Then he crushed the mirror in his hands, letting bits of metal, plastic, and glass fall to the ground. "What the fuck..." said Tip, slack jawed. "I always knew you had a limited vocabulary, and it seems to be getting worse. You ought to work on that," said Dwayne. "But right now, it's your turn to run." Dwayne pulled of his tee shirt, so Tip could get a good look at the insanely jacked up muscle machine he had turned into. He clenched his stomach muscles so that Tip could see the striations stand out on each of the eight blocks of ab muscles on his tight, shredded torso. He flexed his right arm, and his biceps balled up into a perfect peak. Tip had seen a lot of shirtless jocks in his time, but never anyone with Dwayne's highly developed muscularity. Dwayne smirked as he saw Tip gulp. Then he smashed his left fist into the car door, denting the metal in about 5 inches. "That's what I call a love tap," said Dwayne. Then he hit the door again, his knuckles going in 6 inches. "...the fuck..." said Tip, backing away. Then he took off running. Tip had been the fastest guy in their school. In fact, he had broken the 100-yard dash record that had been in place since the 1990's. Dwayne gave him a 5 second head start, then went after him. All Tip heard was the rush of wind from Dwayne coming up behind him so fast, tackling him on the softball field, between 1st and 2nd base. Tip's face and torso hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him. Dwayne straddled him and held him down. Tip struggled hard, but to no effect. "God damn, you are weak," said Dwayne after they both quickly realized how easily the former dweeb was able to control his former bully. Dwayne flexed his arms while holding Tip down with his powerful quads, squeezing them together just a little harder than he needed to. The muscles on his back popped out like thick leather straps, overlapping each other in perfect symmetry. "You want to see what it's like to eat dirt?" asked Dwayne. "No, man, no," said Tip. But it was too late. Dwayne scooped some dirt off the baseline and stuffed into Tip's mouth. Tip gagged and sputtered out wet muddy spittle, as Dwayne held his face to the ground. "Jesus, dude, what fucking pleasure did you ever get out of this?" said Dwayne, stopping his force feeding, but still pinning the jock down hard. Then he started sliding Tip face first along the baseline, until Tip's nose tapped into second base. "There, you're safe, asshole." Dwayne stood up over him. "I thought I would want to beat you to a pulp," he said to the cowering jock. "I still might. Here, let me help you up." Dwayne reached out his hand. Tip reluctantly took it. Dwayne yanked him to his feet like he was made of straw. As Tip started to brush himself off, Dwayne swung his foot at the jock's ankles and knocked him off his feet, onto his ass. "Ok," said Dwayne, "now that time it felt good. Here, I'll help you up. I won't do that again." He helped Tip up again, and didn't kick his feet out from under him. Instead, he punched him in his solar plexus, a quick jab, not enough to shatter his sternum, but enough to make him double over. Dwayne grabbed Tip's arms from behind and put him into a double-armed chickenwing. Then he lifted him off the ground and held him there. "I've got ten times your strength now. Maybe twenty." Dwayne tightened his hold and lifted Tip higher, just enough to prove it. Tip was just about to lose consciousness when Dwayne tossed him down. "If I ever hear about you bullying someone again, I'll come after you. And next time I won't be so friendly." Dwayne looked up and saw Danny over by Tip's car. Danny went over to the rear end of the Charger and started pushing on it until it skidded up over the curb. He pushed it harder and harder, smashing the front end into a big oak tree with such force that the car windows shattered. As Dwayne walked over to him, Danny pulled out his phone and dialed 911. "Hi," Danny said into the phone. "My friend and I just saw a blond guy in a red car crash into a tree here at the park.....By the softball field parking lot....Yeah, he got out and tried to run away, but we stopped him." Danny hung up. As Tip crawled his way back towards his demolished car, Dwayne said, "That got me so riled up." He flexed his rock muscle chest. "Yeah, got me all jacked up just watching you," said Danny, jutting out his 70+ inch chest. "Let's go back to my place and fuck each others' brains out." "Yeah? You think you can handle all this?" said Dwayne, already getting hard as he rippled every striated muscle fiber on his new body. "Let's find out."
  25. 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!