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  1. Here is a new story from a friend featuring one of my favorite subjects. Big muscle daddies . I'd been talking about a story like this with my friend and they decided to write a story on it. Just to be clear, this is not an incest story. And it follows in a similar genre as my Elongro and Performance Incentive stories. So there may be elements of domination, humiliation, cucking, etc. Again, just to be clear, I did not write this, but was given permission by the author to share it here. Enjoy! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Chapter 1 - Dr. Tait Holden, MD, Ph.D. sat in his office at 345 Park Avenue Manhattan dictating another report. It had been an exhausting few months. Since he attended the college football championship game in January there had only been a few days that he had been home. Travel all over the nation, living in hotel after hotel after hotel. Dozens upon dozens of days long interviews with clients. Just as many or more consultant meetings and video conferences each week. Having to attend gladhand receptions and dinners with the more hands-on owners when he would much rather have been home. But the end of the yearly ritual was within sight. It was now early May. He was back in his Manhattan loft full time, and, at last, the busiest part of his work year was almost over. That was not to say Tait actually liked New York City. It was just a necessary evil. At least the Spring weather was nice here. He just had too much Nebraska in him to ever feel comfortable in a two bedroom - two bath top floor loft in Chelsea that he bought strictly for its vaulted ceilings or in a suit in the corporate offices. In fact, he often mused about the size of the mansion he could have bought back in Omaha for what he spent on 1200 square feet here. But, as much as he did not like Manhattan, at least he wasn’t always on an airplane living out of a suitcase. He could get some fresh air on the roof of his building after his morning run with a cup of coffee and a quick hot tub boil to relax his quads and calves before work. Cramped, crowded subway commutes were never fun for him, but having his own kitchen each night made sticking to his new workout and gym goals much easier. Those had been KILLER to maintain on the road to be sure. But, he never turned down a challenge. Besides, he thought he had progressed quite nicely on those goals over travel season, all things considered. Just a few more weeks. A few more weeks of reports and these meetings and he would finally be able to close the Chelsea loft for the summer and take some vacation time at his Montana cabin. In the remote wilderness with just himself, the animals, and his private gym, he could really focus on his training undisturbed until fall. Sure there would be some work between the first day of training camp and week one, but that would be the exception, not the rule. Tait was reciting long lines of dry medical jargon into his headset, when an unexpected buzz brought him out of his notes. He pressed pause on the mic control, and the main switchboard operator’s voice sounded. “Doctor Holden. Sean Foley from the PGA is on 7-2788 for you.” Tait smiled to himself as he told the operator to transfer the call to him. Sean was one of the best professional golf coaches on the planet, counting players the likes of Tiger Woods and Justin Rose among his clients. Getting this type of call would be unheard of for most doctors, but for Tait, it was run of the mill. He was, after all, one of the preeminent sports psychiatrists/psychologists in the United States. Tait flipped another switch on his mic to change from the computer dictation program to the phone lines, and a button on his desk phone connected the call. “Sean. It’s been quite a while. How are you man?” “I’m good, Tait. Covid took a toll on business, but what didn’t it take a toll on. How are you?” the man replied. “Trust me, I understand that. As for me - rough part of my season winding down and craving a vacation,” Tait said. “So, what can I do for you? You finally want to cash in that favor I owe you? If so, I know this perfect spot just off the coast of Miami. Private island, warm–” The voice on the phone quipped. “No way. Having you on the hook for a favor is too valuable to give up on just anything.” Then the voice became earnest. “Listen, Tait, this is - rather personal. Well, more personal for you I dare say. I don’t know if it is my business to tell you or if you already know. But you're a friend, and I have to say something. “Something is very wrong, Tait. Have you talked to Kane lately?” Tait’s jovial mood changed instantly. “Not for months, Sean. Between the rush for the draft and - well - you know - Kane being Kane. Thought it best to give him some space and let him call me. What's –” The voice interrupted. “That fits, Tait. But this is different. Fuck, Tait. I'm worried. Let me explain.” *** In Mountain View, California, a twenty-five year old man sat watching the sun rise in a quiet upper middle class neighborhood in which anyone could be happy. Except that the young man wasn’t happy. He hadn’t been happy for months. Not since that day at the gym. Since then, even his fiancé, who at one time made him unconsciously smile just being in her presence, couldn't rouse him from his preoccupied doldrums. It all started after that guy – no, he couldn't face it. It was too – Suddenly, his cellphone rang. The iPhone played a ringtone he had not heard in ages - Ozzy Osborne's “Patient Number 9.” The young man literally groaned as he picked up the phone to see *RESTRICTED NUMBER* as the caller. That ringtone was no accident then… Why now? He thought. Why now? Of all people on earth. With what happened, why him? The universe must hate me…. But the young man knew there was no way to ignore the call or the caller. No way to resist the inevitable. No one ever resisted this caller. Not in all the years he had known him. It was like trying to resist the gravity of a black hole. The only way to avoid it was to go around it and never interact with it. But now, he had to. The young man took a long breath and blew it out. Time to face reality. He clicked on the answer icon. “Hi Dad.” “Hi, Son. How are you?” a deep voice replied from the box. “OK. Just the usual,” the young man lied. “What’s up?” “I'm going to be flying into San Francisco tomorrow night and staying all next week. I would like to speak with you and meet Lacey while I am there. I know it is kind of hard for you to bring the girl home to “meet the parents” so to speak. But while I’m there, I thought it might be a good time. It is way past time I met my future daughter-in-law. “Are you both available for lunch Thursday? Say Hog Island Oyster Company at 12:30? It's a bit of overkill I know, but I want to make a good first impression on my new family. And I really want to see how you are. My treat, of course.” Oh fuck, the young man thought. Not just interacting but flying straight into orbit of the black hole. Then, he calmed a bit. Dad has to meet Lacey sometime though. Maybe it can just be lunch if he is working. I hope so. I can't be exposed to hi- The young man banished the thought he was about to have before he fully had it. It was too creepy to ever contemplate. It was wrong too. But it came again. And again. And again… The young man tried to clear his head. He yelled out so that it could be heard by the deep voiced man. “Lacey, do you have time Thursday afternoon for lunch? Dad is on the phone.” In response, a beautiful young woman came around the hallway from the bedroom into the living room. Her face was beaming at the prospect. Their marriage will become much more real after finally meeting her future father-in-law in person. She immediately agreed. “Lacey said it’s fine Dad, so I guess so.” “Great. I am staying at the Four Seasons for work. So, I will meet you both at the restaurant. Just ask for my reservation. I am really looking forward to it, Son. It has been far too long.” As the phone disconnected, the two men on opposite ends of the country - and from the same but opposite worlds - each breathed a sigh. In New York, Tait hated lying to his son. He could count on one hand how many times he had, and some of those had been misdirections about Christmas presents. He had finished in California weeks ago. But something was wrong, and his son needed him. In California, Kane Holden's stomach tied into a knot. He loved his dad, but his father was more of a force of nature than a man. Tait Holden was… His god of a father was coming. And after the dude at the gym, the universe really did hate him. *** When Kyle and Barbara Holden welcomed their fifth child and last child - their first son after four daughters - into the world in 1978 it was a dream come true. Every man dreams of having a son, and that was especially true of the Nebraska cattle rancher. He was not only from a long line of cattlemen, but also a long line of athletes. He himself had been a full scholarship O-line player at the University of Nebraska. His brother had been on the 1968 Olympic wrestling team. And before he settled onto his own ranch, his father had played for twelve seasons with the Phillies and the Dodgers through the 1950’s. His father’s two World Series rings sat proudly in the office at his ranch to that very day. But, at that moment in Creighton Memorial St. Joseph’s Hospital, no one grasped that the infant they named after his two grandpa’s, Tait Michael Holden, would tower over every accomplishment anyone in their families ever had. From the start, it was obvious that Tait was a special baby. First sign was that he was big for a newborn, being 8 pounds 12 ounces. But that big baby would only become BIGGER. Beyond that, Tait was speaking basic sentences at a year old. Reading basic stories at 3. When most little guys were only interested in Sesame Street or GI Joe cartoons, Tait was voraciously learning anything, showing a curiosity in everything from the classroom to snakes and prairie dogs on the ranch to how the cattle were managed for market. By the age of 12, Tait had raised and sold his first steer after winning first place with him at the State Fair. And then another, and then two, and then four. By the time he had graduated high school, Tait had well over eighty thousand dollars in savings from selling his Fair animals and prize money. Tait would have been an incredible rancher if that had been his destiny - but his academic and farm accomplishments were mirrored by his physicality and sports performance. Like all the Holden men, Tait inherited tremendous physical and athletic potential, and in Nebraska countryside tradition, Kyle started his son playing flag football as soon as he was of age. Tait took to the sport like a duck to water. By the time he was a high school freshman, Tait was already playing varsity as a hulking 6’4” terror of a tight end. At high school graduation, he had won every football award possible for high schoolers in the state of Nebraska and more individual player awards than any athlete in Nebraska state history to that point. Of course, Tait was recruited by practically every single division one athletic program that had even the smallest hope of landing him. The only thing that disappointed Kyle at the end was his son’s final decision of where to commit. Instead of one of the highly visible national programs, Tait chose Stanford. He explained that he wanted to develop his mind as well as his football skills, just in case he were injured and couldn’t play and Stanford could certainly do that. Besides, he reasoned, no matter the team’s record, as long as he played his very best game and learned under legendary Stanford head coach Bill Walsh - the NFL scouts would come to him. And come they did as Tait became a once in a generation position player. When Tait’s body finally stopped growing, he was just a fraction under 6’9” tall, and the strength coaching and nutrition staff transformed him into a 315 pound gridiron titan. And it was by no means a flabby 300 pounds. Tait was obsessive in the gym and with diet, so much so that the layer of fat so many tall footballers had simply wasn't there. Tait’s genetics would have allowed him to become a pro bodybuilder if he was not a football player. His body and strikingly good looks made him into what would one day be called the poster child of “aesthetics.” Tait had a 61 inch chest, 22 inch biceps, with a wasp waist of 32 inches that was the same size as each quad. He looked to literally be carved from rock, more like a giant Frank Zane on the field than a Junior Seau. Of course, any college footballer who was 6’9” and more than 300 pounds was tried out on the line and Tait played magnificently there. But, his true skills were at tight end. His gigantic hands made it next to impossible for a quarterback to miss him when called upon to make a catch. And Tait was extremely good at making up for bad throws so that they still wound up in his mitts. His massive legs could push that body at incredible speed for his size, and compared to defensive secondary players who were 100 pounds lighter than him - trying to tackle him was like trying to stop a freight train. And when Tait was called on to make a block for a running back, those who were unfortunate enough to be targeted felt like they had been plowed over by a Union Pacific locomotive. The nickname stuck - so that when the “Freight Train” made a play, the Stanford student section would start chanting lyrics, singing along to a new song by Metallica that was first sung just a few miles away in San Francisco playing over the stadium speakers - No Leaf Clover - “Then it comes to be that the soothing light / At the end of your tunnel / Is just a freight train coming your way / Here it comes.” Tait’s physical gifts were built right along with his mental skill on the field. Under Walsh and his position coaches, Tait had also become an incredible football mind. He absorbed every lesson Walsh and the coaches taught - from how plays unfold across the whole field, to how his own position operated in various schemes to how plays themselves were drawn, even how the players' workouts augmented play making. Tait employed these skills relentlessly. He might have been a freight train in one play but in the next he could work with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel. That versatility made him almost impossible for opposing teams to defend against, Tait was one of the few players on the college level Walsh ever trusted to have the quarterback or center make audibles in an instant based on the defense. What generational greats like Peyton Manning was to Tennessee or Charles Woodson was to Michigan, Tait Holden was at Stanford. After four seasons, when Tait finally declared for the NFL draft, he was a Stanford team captain, a 4-time First Team Academic and on the field All-American. It was rumored that Tait was the inspiration for the creation of the Mackey Trophy to recognize the best tight end in college football since he never won a Heisman. Nevertheless, he was an easy top ten first round pick. Tait spent 8 years in the NFL during the 2000s, amassing 2 Superbowl rings, 7 consecutive selections for the pro bowl, and 4 first team all pro rankings. It was argued in NFL circles that if he had continued playing, he would have been tied with Jason Witten and Tony Gonzalez as the greatest tight ends of the modern NFL. He was definitely heading for the Hall of Fame. But, unexpectedly, at the age of 30, Tait retired from professional sports. The official reason Tait gave was that he wanted to make sure he maintained his health from possible injury or concussion disorder. CTE was becoming more and more popular in the discussion of player health and Tait was a massively hard tackler. But the real reason was very different. Social media barely existed at the end of Tait’s career, and at that time the press barely covered player families unless they were famous beforehand. No one ever spoke of the players' children. So, few outside his team and fewer true friend’s knew about Tait’s wife. Her name was Jess Walker. Tait met her at a party when he was a Stanford freshman. Next to Tait, she was tiny at 5’1” and 105 pounds. But she was perfect for her spot on the gymnastics team. And she had gotten involved in a new sport from a gymnastics coach in Santa Cruz that he called “Crossfit.” For the first time in his life, Tait was thunderstruck by a girl. He was awestruck that such a petite girl could be so fit and strong and do the things she could do. But it was every single conversation with Jess that pulled Tait in. He could just lie on a couch and hold her and talk with her for days on end it seemed. They soon began exclusive dating and became quite the item on campus. But, as sometimes happens, in their junior year, Jess retired from team sports as she was pregnant and soon gave birth to a baby boy - Matthew Kane Holden. Although Tait wasn't religious, he had been raised with salt of the earth, mid-western values. So his first inclination was to marry Jess, stop football, and go to work. But, both Jess and her parents would not hear of it. They refused to allow Tait to give up his career and his future, even with a child on the way. Eventually, Tait agreed, but he and his family would provide everything Jess and Kane needed while waiting for him to go to the NFL. The Holden's lived up to every word - with Jess completing an MBA while waiting. Finally, in Tait's second year in the League, he and Jess married in a tiny ceremony in the prairie church in Nebraska where his family had married for generations. Tait deeply loved Jess and his boy. Though his looks and body made him a virtual pin up model with the expected continual offers of sex when he was on the road with the team - and sometimes right in front of Jess - he was absolutely faithful to them. They seemed to be on the road to long term happiness. But then the phone call came - There had been an accident on the freeway. Jess’s petite body stood no chance in the force of the impact, and she had passed from her injuries. Luckily Kane had been with his grandparents so he was unharmed. But Jess was gone. He was widowed at 30 years old. Tait was devastated. He decided at that moment to do everything he could to provide family and stability for his son, and to not risk his body again. Tait retired from football less than a month later. And rather than live on his well-invested football money - he had been paid over 38 million dollars in his career which had already almost doubled through wise investment - or become a coach, Tait decided to use some of his money to go back to his alma mater - Stanford. Tait was easily accepted into Stanford Medical School, graduating as a single dad with an MD and a PhD in what was then a new and upcoming field called Sports Psychology. After four years of residency at The University of Pennsylvania, Tait became a licensed sports psychiatrist. He was specifically approached and accepted a job offer from the NFL corporate offices in New York. He was commissioned to begin a new mental health services division under the contract that had just been negotiated between the Player’s Union and the League. Tait provided psychological services to any team organization, from mental health seminars and how to develop mind-body connection to interviewing potential draft prospects for teams from a psychological perspective. When Tait made that call to Kane, he was 44 years old. He had gone on to become the manager of behavioral health practitioners for the League and an incredibly respected NFL representative. He showed favoritism to no one, not even his old coaches and teams and teammates. And, as a former player, he was in particularly high demand to supplement mental health services and team doctors. Through it all, Tait saw to any need his parents, sisters, and son had that they could not meet for themselves. Tait was the man his father and grandfather taught him to be - a man who takes care of his own, protects his own, and provides for his own. Physical Giant, Retired NFL All-Pro, MD from Stanford – Tait really was an Alpha male force of nature. Given the man he was, as soon as he got a hint that his son may be in trouble, Tait dropped everything and flew to San Francisco. *** Kane and Lacey walked into Hog Island Oyster Company about ten minutes before the reservation time. When they approached the maitre’d desk and asked for the Holden reservation, he looked at them rather judgmentally, said they did not take reservations, and then asked them for identification. Once the asswipe was satisfied, he gave them one last sneer and invited them to follow. They were not prepared for where they were going. Apparently the restaurant did take reservations - for Tait Holden. They were escorted to an entire section of reserved outdoor patio seating. In front of them stretched one of the most panoramic views of the San Francisco bay and the bay bridge that anyone could take in. Before they took their seats, they went to the edge of the pier to take in the sight. Of course, for all except the maitre’d, there was another view most of the males had taken in as much as they could. Kane didn’t have to look around to sense the eyes locked onto them - well her. Lacey. Kane was accustomed to it by now. It was something similar to the reaction his father received from women, a reaction he knew he would see and hear again soon enough. Part of him rather enjoyed the looks of envy directed at him. And part of him felt insanely self-conscious and inadequate, as those same looks that were awed by Lacey judged him to be totally lacking compared to the woman on his arm. Lacey Masters had it all. She was a 27 year old drop-dead beauty. Daughter of a Bank of America executive. She had competed twice for Ms. California, and the only thing that truly held her back from winning the title was her 5’6” stature. Like his parents, Kane met Lacey at Stanford, where she had been a cheerleader. Of course, she was just as stunning back in college as now, which cowed Kane. But, he also felt more than a little intimidated by her intellect. She was no stereotypical empty airhead. Lacey was a brilliant financial mind. Even if she had not been a banker's daughter and born to the work, her skills at winning in the markets singled her out as being an up and comer in the corporate world. She worked for the investment firm Dodge and Cox as an analyst and personal portfolio manager, already bringing in a very solid quarter million dollar salary before bonuses each year. She also had a fantastic personal portfolio that seemed to grow whenever the stock market bell rang. In every way, she was the proverbial catch. Then, there was the man beside her. In a way that no one could actually put a finger on, Kane Holden just didn't seem to match up. It wasn’t that Kane was bad looking, True, Lacey was dressed in a fantastic dress and heels that made her stand a couple inches taller than Kane, who in bare feet stood exactly the same height as Lacey. True, his father had the chiseled, rugged good looks of romance and cowboy western novel cover models. But, Kane was not bad looking at all. His features were softer. Kinder. He was what most girls in high school and college described over and over as “cute” - at those moments when those same girls were alone comparing the guys around them. While Lacey was closer to a 10, Kane was more of a 7 or 8. But he was not ugly by any stretch. It wasn't that Kane was lacking in any sort of lack of physical fitness. Sure, Kane had gained about ten pounds since college, but that didn’t mean that he had a full out dad bod or anything. Sure, while Lacey had her beauty queen looks and religiously worked out with weights and yoga, Kane was not exactly a slouch. He had inherited the Holden family athletic gene and had been a 5 year wrestler at Stanford. And now, he was pursuing his other sporting gift - golf. Kane had taken up golf in high school after wrestling season and discovered he had quite a knack for it. With great coaching, Kane had capitalized on that talent, having managed to secure a spot on the PGA tour two years prior. No one in their right mind would claim that a Stanford wrestler and a professional golfer was not successful. It was just that Kane had inherited his mother’s height and weight rather than his father’s - as Kane wrestled at the 141 pound weight class. And unlike his father’s gargantuan, ripped muscles when he was in college sports, Kane was again softer - even when he was in wrestling shape. Kane had lithe muscles and a hint of abs under his shirt rather than the etched, deep 8-pack of his father. Kane had succeeded in wrestling and golf as a good tactician, with flexibility, speed, and technique as allies - the skills of a gymnast that he had inherited from his mother. He just didn’t have the overwhelming physical power combined with tactics that his father had - or that Lacey had in her own more feminine way. And while just becoming a Stanford wrestler and pro golfer was successful, he was middle of the road in both. He was good… good enough. But, he was never going to win the way his Dad and wife did. Kane’s personality didn’t quite match Lacey, that was true. They seemed to be from the “opposites that attract” spectrum rather than being “birds of a feather.” Kane was reserved and somewhat introverted compared to Lacey’s extroverted nature. With his father being away so much as a pro footballer and later medical school and residency, child Kane became a pure “mama’s boy.” Thus, he was crushed when his mother passed. Tait had been as well, but he had an adult perspective that the ten year old Kane did not. Tait had engaged the best therapy possible for his son, of course. And the giant man had been nothing but loving and gentle with his son, sensing his quiet, reserved nature. As Kane was treated by many others in his life. To a fair share of women, that vulnerable side was seen as an endearing quality, again something they called “cute.” But, to others, especially certain males in the elite circles of academics and athletics and later business, Kane was a tempting target to use and step on. Except none ever wanted to face the wrath of Tait Holden or later the corporate power of the Masters. So they left Kane alone - most of them. Looks, physique, mind, attitude, personality. It wasn’t any of these single characteristics that made Kane not match. It was all of these things taken together. Kane was the embodiment of “one of these things is not like the others.” He shouldn’t have been. But, he was. And something deep inside him knew it. It was a feeling people could sense radiating from him. Preoccupation. Tentativeness. Withdrawal. Inadequacy. Good enough. That was Kane in a nutshell - good enough. Good enough - but not great. In any other life Kane has success people only dreamed of. But compared to the others he loved, he was totally outshined; but, he was good enough. As he and Lacey waited for water to be brought to their table, Kane was being swallowed by “good enough.” Kane was cute, vulnerable, had a scrappy puppy quality, and Lacey had come to love him for that and more. But – Tait Holden. He knew Tait Holden was quantum leaps beyond any man Lacey had ever met. Though Lacey was certainly accustomed to getting attention and getting hit upon and being a very strong, dominant woman - she had never been exposed to the quality and quantity of Alpha male Tait Holden in person brought to the table. Kane had no idea how she would react. He knew Lacey loved him. Or it certainly felt like it. But, he knew how his Dad affected women. He had seen it all his life. He knew Tait was no predator. He was no so called “Chad.” He never set out to seduce women. In fact, Tait had always been loyal and honorable toward his mother and any other woman as far as he knew. Stealing a woman away from another was just anathema to him. Before or after Jess death, he had never been part of the underground or above ground athlete culture for women and parties and sex. Tait considered that to be beneath him or any proper man. He had taught Kane that. And - Kane knew he carried the pain every widowed person did. He had seen it when his father had visited his mother’s grave. He still loved HER, even now. Kane thought maybe that was why he was still single. And yet… Kane knew what was coming, and it always inspired a feeling - dread. Kane felt awful about that. He felt so conflicted that he both loved and dreaded his father. His father was just… his father. No bravado, no pretend machismo, nothing at all unnatural for him. Tait was nothing but the archetypal Real Man, in every positive way. Tait had done nothing on purpose to inspire such dread in Kane. Yet, it was there, rolling in him - the feeling of being good enough under the glare of greatness. Then, there was another feeling the son had about his father - a wrong feeling Kane thought. The feeling had no name that Kane could attach to it. He buried it as much as he could as he was afraid of it. He avoided his father because of it. But that day at the gym a few months ago - that other man made him truly feel it for the first time. Kane didn’t want to relive those moments, but he did in a flash. And the feelings that burst out hit him, making his thoughts spin - worse than they already were. How would Lacey react? What would she do? What would he do? Why did he feel this way? He didn’t know if these feelings around - well THEM who Tait may as well have been the leader of - was a part of him that was alpha like his father that he was uncomfortable expressing for where it could lead. He didn’t know if it was admiration or desire or hero worship or… A longing to be like his father or not like his father. It just had no name. It was like – Kane was brought back to the real world and away from the whirlwind of his thoughts by an audible gasp and rustle that went through the entire restaurant. Again, Kane instinctively knew what it was. Who it was. Again, he didn't have to look up to know what had happened to generate that response. But, just like gravity around a black hole, Kane was drawn in and turned to see. Kane’s first thought was that his father looked bigger than he remembered, if such a thing were possible. Tait towered at least a full head over… Well, everyone there. That was normal for a man who was 6’9” outside of a basketball team locker room, but it wasn't just his height. Kane could have sworn that his father was physically wider and more thickly muscled than even during his playing days. Maybe it was just his clothes, Kane reasoned. Tait was dressed in all black - black polo shirt, black slacks and leather belt, black leather dress boots. The height of simplicity. Thing was the way these clothes looked. Every stitch Tait wore was custom tailored. His clothes fit so precisely as to highlight every muscle to the hilt. His massive pecs were totally outlined, his quad development shown through his trousers, an impossibly deep v-taper from shoulders down to his waist, even some of the thicker veins were visible through the cloth. Yet, none of the clothing was so tight as to look like Tait had deliberately done it. They simultaneously looked painted on but loose and comfortable in the way only superbly custom-made clothing can. It wasn’t a matter of Tait showing his wealth or station in life or even simply vanity however. Fact was - no one made off-the-shelf clothing for someone like Tait. Simply finding pants long enough was often difficult, much less pants that could house his monstrous quads and calves. Finding size 18 shoes anywhere in any style at all was nearly impossible. Tait had needed custom clothes as long as Kane could remember. Kane heard another sharp intake of breath - this time from directly behind him. He turned to see Lacey with her mouth agape in shock. “Kane,” she barely whispered, “is… is that-” “Ya, that's Dad.” Kane replied. “Told you. Dad is a bit… different.” Lacey had seen plenty of well built, muscular, handsome men in her years. Plenty of very tall men when she cheered for Stanford basketball. Plenty of so-called Alpha males on the field and at parties and in the halls of power. But Tait - she was just floored, stunned, speechless. He was the biggest man she had ever seen. The sheer size of him. He looked like he could make up three ordinary sized men. And, if she were honest - his sheer sexiness was astonishing. His height, his classic chiseled looks, his commanding vibe. All those things she knew in scattered pieces in other men - but in Tait all combined and magnified in one. She had not even spoken to him yet, but everything about him screamed that this was a man among men. Lacey felt her crotch tingle involuntarily. An animal desire from within her. She couldn’t help it. And she wasn't alone. Every woman in the restaurant was having the same reaction. They all felt the… whatever it is that women feel in the presence of a proverbial apex alpha male. And the men - they all felt what they had in their own package either flex with the same desire or shrivel as it was obvious they were totally outclassed. As the young couple watched, Tait looked down upon the maitre'd - who came no taller than his upper pecs - and spoke to him. They could not hear what was said, but they could see the person who had been more than a bit snobbish and prickish to them physically wilt. Kane noted that the same man who asked them for their identification didn’t ask Tait for the same as he fumbled over himself. At that moment, Tait saw Kane and Lacey in the distance. He said something to the maitre’d and then just walked past him as if he no longer existed. Tait walked through the lunch time crowd like Morpheus in The Matrix. Totally direct and purposeful, yet strolling through the sea of people as if they didn’t exist. All while the maitre’d looked as if he were physically drained - perhaps like Moses after seeing the Burning Bush. As soon as Tait came through the patio doors into the open air, he looked to Kane and said heartfully, “How are you, Son?” Father and son began to walk toward each other. Lacey stood, frozen, watching. Her shock and nervousness only grew as the great man approached. It did not escape her that Tait seemed to cover the same distance that took Kane ten steps in five. The giant reached out and took his flesh and blood by the hand in a massive enveloping handshake and then pulled him into a hug. Lacey thought she could hear Kane reply, but it was lost somewhere in Tait's lower chest muscles - where Kane's head landed upon the man who had 15 inches of height on him. But - that didn't matter to her… yet. That voice - Tait’s deep, smooth, confident voice. Tait sounded like a combination of the bass of Vin Diesel and the smoothness of Lawrence Fishburne. So strong and confident, yet so soothing. That voice could crush an ego or inspire armies or wrap you in curtains of safety and security, depending on how he used it. She understood in a moment why Tait was so effective as a psychiatrist or as a team leader before that. That voice attached to that man could make you want to tell every secret you had and love doing it. She felt herself become even more aroused hearing him. She started to understand what Kane had meant about gravity. She felt pulled toward him, like a moth to a flame. The perfect voice, the perfect height, the perfect muscle, the perfect attitude - she just couldn't help it. He was so much more than Kane’s description could ever hope to convey. She noticed something else in that moment of embrace. Kane. Though they seemed so different - and they were very different - she could see so much of the son in his father and so much of the father in the son. Kane’s voice was baritone rather than bass, not quite as silky smooth and confident. But she could hear so many similarities. Kane had a quiet strength about his voice, much as the magnified version in Tait. There had been more than a few nights when she had become lost in Kane’s voice. Kane’s face and physical features were so different from Tait's - yet there was no question they were father and son. Kane was what Tait would have been if he were more of the non-descript power behind the throne type. A very different type of masculine power; yet it was there. So different - yet so similar. That similarity to Tait made Lacey desire Kane more too. She watched as Tait released Kane and together they approached the table where she was. Kane - she felt ashamed for her reaction to Tait. She loved Kane. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Kane. Why was she so pulled into wanting Tait to f– She crushed that thought. “And you must be Lacey. It is cliche but Kane has told me so much about you,” she heard as her vision became blocked by a man mountain. Lacey looked up and UP. She felt like she was a little girl again standing in front of her father as Tait held out a wide hand. She extended her own hand and Tait took it. “Dad, this is my fiancé Lacey Masters. Lacey, please meet my Dad, Tait Holden.” Kane introduced. Tait’s voice seemed to wrap the young woman in velvet smoothness. “An absolute pleasure to finally meet the girl my son was lucky enough to catch… or was it entrap?” Tait cracked a mischievous smile with just the hint of a complement toward her and the good natured rib at his son. Kane's cheeks flashed an inordinate amount of red in embarrassment. Lacey giggled. Fuck that smile is like liquid sex. What is it like to kiss–, she thought. “He didn't trap me.” She replied then added almost as an afterthought. “Well… maybe he did, but it's a trap I enjoyed falling into. The pleasure is mine, Doctor Holden.” Tait turned to his son for a moment. “Kane, you didn’t tell me you had found such a keeper of a girl. Better hold tight.” He flashed a smile again before he turned again to Lacy. “Tait, please. You’re not a client in my office, and I still have enough of the ranch in me to hate formality from my family - or close enough to family. Of course, there is one exception I make to formal custom - one I always liked with a beautiful young woman.” Tait’s voice dropped slightly, becoming almost intimate. “‘Enchanté, Mademoiselle.’” In a practiced motion mastered through thousands of repetitions, Tait raised her arm while simultaneously bowing himself and kissed her hand. Lacey shivered. Her panties very nearly became wet in desire. Tait was so big he could totally close her from the outside world if he embraced her. She could tell from the thick, weight lifter built muscles of his hand that he was strong enough to lift her to the ceiling with one arm with no effort at all. She imagined Tait in the gym putting dumbbells more than her body weight easily over his head. Her eyes wandered up his thick corded forearms that radiating raw, crushing power, and, Jesus Christ, that bulging biceps even partly under the sleeve. What must that feel like to… “That’s my Dad, just a smooth-talking, muscle-bound Cassinova.” Kane quipped. Leave it to Kane to ruin the moment, Lacey thought. She almost snapped at him for his rudeness, but was stopped by a good natured chuckle from Tait. Lacey could not tell if the laugh was a “touché” recognition of his son’s verbal jab - or an Alpha male’s amusement at a lesser being trying to stand up to someone far beyond him. Maybe it was both she thought. “Maybe so, Son. I admit to being a softy sometimes under it all. I suppose Kane learned how to trap good women from me.” Tait pointed his free hand toward Lacey’s seat. “May I?” Lacey smiled even more as she gave her ascent. Tait lowered her hand and held it as he escorted her back to her seat. As he led her, she tried to hide the fact that she was shaking at his touch. She understood intellectually that Tait was just showing proper manners. But her body didn’t want to believe it. And… she failed. Tait felt her response and suppressed a knowing smile. As Lacey thought, he wasn’t purposefully trying to do anything. It was just that he had seen this so often that he couldn't help but feel a bit of amusement. Years ago, Jess’s mother told him that common courtesy from him could be misinterpreted by many women because of the masculinity and power he conveyed. So, Tait was very cognizant of where to draw lines with most women. She was family so he would allow more than with most women. But the lines were still there with a woman so much his junior - no matter how much closer to her age his looks made him. Still, very first impressions of Lacey Masters - he liked this girl. Kane - he noticed her response too. Like his father, he had seen this so many times over the years. It was what he knew would happen and was afraid would grow. He hoped this would end when Lacey became more familiar with his father’s presence. The way his mother or grandma or aunts were around his father. They would just laugh at it when they felt it and give their men a smooch. Still he felt a jab of familiar jealousy - no woman had ever responded to a simple display of manners from him like that, much less his own fiancé . Maybe she had never responded like that to anything he had ever done. No matter how intimate. Even in… Kane’s feelings of inadequacy grew even more. And with it his internal conflict expanded. After Lacey was seated, Tait moved to the side and took the only other available seat at the table… Next to the young woman. Kane mentally kicked himself. He had unconsciously upped the level of temptation. He had chosen to sit opposite of Lacey facing her across the table out of habit - the way they always sat when going out. Tait hadn't thought anything about it. He simply slid into where he thought he should sit - within inches of Lacey. It was innocent. Anyone would sit in the only available chair… but now Kane felt even more uncomfortable. Seeing them like this, side by side - it was oddly striking. They sort of matched, like his mother. They looked so–. Awkward silence again took over, but after a few moments, Tait broke the ice. Again, he directed to Lacey. “I suppose this is when we begin the awkward small talk you do when you're meeting the in-laws? I remember mine. Maybe I should just tell some embarrassing childhood stories on Kane like any parent does when meeting their kids’ sweetheart.” Tait flashed his million dollar smile signaling the humor, which made Kane blush again - hoping against hope his Dad wasn't going to actually do that. Tait and Lacey couldn't help but laugh at the sight. It was indeed the perfect thing to break the ice. But her laugh was almost like a schoolgirl enamored of the hot new guy. Of course, she was nervous meeting Tait but - that laugh. It was more than nerves. Without realizing - in a half flirtatious way, her hand moved to Tait's forearm…This time, she was definitely wet. Thank fuck what she was wearing would never let on to her condition. But she felt it. Her biology betrayed her - and what she felt. Crazy, hard muscle. Veins. What about other veins lower down. And his skin - it was an odd juxtaposition of thick and thin, hard and supple - like a weightlifter. Like a strong man. A bodybuilder. Her fingers lingered as she felt movement - the small and large ripples of individual cords of muscle, each of which had to be bigger than Kane's whole forearm. She kept feeling as she caught the scent of Tait's heady musk, a clean but utterly masculine scent - sandalwood and leather and cigar and pheromones and the primitive primate part of her brain responded. Involuntarily, she drew in a breath. That breath - damnit, had she been caught? Lacey’s cheeks flushed and she dropped her hand, though she didn't want to. She was feeling up to her beau’s father. That was awful, but… I have to be good, she thought. She truly believed she was being totally proper now not feeling Tait’s arm - it never reached her consciousness that her hand had just dropped only to come to rest on Tait’s massive quad. The entire previous exchange felt like minutes, but in reality it was just a second or two. Lacey continued, “I hope it's not too awkward.” Her answer was both a proper answer and a Freudian slip. “I make no promises that I won't mess up. But, I'll try my best,” Tait said to both of them, feigning innocence. Tait knew her hand was on his quad… but drew no attention to it. Kane jumped in. “Speaking of awkward - you're looking… BIG, Dad.” Now it was Tait's turn to flash the slightest of emotion - Pride. There was always something special when your kid noticed that you were reaching your goals. “I thought you'd quit working out as much with the Draft interview schedule keeping you so busy.” “I'm glad you noticed, Son. Been working hard the last while even with the schedule. Some OK results for not enough sleep and depending on the team catering crews to give me healthy food, if not exactly geared for me. But, I do want to get bigger.” “Bigger?!?” both twenty-somethings said incredulously in unison. Tait felt Lacey’s hand begin to squeeze his quad. Then move to squeeze another spot. It was a bit of a thrill to feel that a grown woman’s hand - petite though she was - could not even span the single femoral head of his right quad. Just one of the four main groups - wider than the length of her hand from her fingers to wrist. She was looking for weakness. She would not find it. Lacey - she was indeed feeling his leg, trying to figure out what bigger meant. She decided there was no way. How could there be - he was so big already. So totally hard. He had to be immensely strong. Everywhere she felt - nothing but rock hard muscle. It couldn’t get any bigger. Tait could not help but to feed on their stunned energy, particularly Lacey. He found a strange sort of enjoyment at the prospect of showing off for his family and pushing them into disbelief. He decided to go with the flow. He opened a light version of a jock smirk to their reaction. “ “But you're already so BIG?!?” Lacey finally said. Tait held out his right forearm and biceps and began to tense and relax them in view of the kids. It was not a full out flex at all - more of just moving his fingers and wrist making the muscles twist and dance. As he did so, the cords of thick muscle and veins exploded and the promise of a truly monumental biceps mountain hinted it was alive under the black polo sleeve. “I'm certainly trying. It was my New Year’s resolution, so to speak. Maybe it's just an old man's vanity trying to keep up with all these NFL prospects I work with who are even younger than you two. It’s fun to still be able to out work and out lift them, I have to admit. “I turn 45 in a few months, and it is more than fun to see them - please do not take offense Kane, Lacey - but it is more than fun to see them have the same reaction you two are having right now when I get a good pump. I am going for conditioning too, not just size. You know someone my size can put on a lot of muscle AND fat just by existing and eating enough. But I want to carve up the size I am putting on. Be lean and cut as well as bigger. Actually, I am aiming to be better than I ever was when I did the pin up calendars when I played in the league. One last time and hold onto it as long as time and age will let me.” Lacey’s hand groped even more at hearing that. If you looked closely, her eyes dilated. Her cheeks flushed. Her breathing had become a bit faster. More shallow. “Dr. Hold – Tait,” Lacey corrected. “Almost 45?!? You don't look a day over 30.” Kane groaned inwardly. His anger had been growing the entire exchange. He was going to let it all go as a natural reaction that Lacey couldn’t help. His father’s gravity. That it would go away. But that level of blatant hitting on another man right in front of him was uncalled for. It was as clumsy and in his face as if she were still a teenage girl getting attention from the hot jock. Right down to the giggles. He could see Lacey fucking groping his leg and just dying to touch even more – Kane almost said something when Tait stepped in. He deftly slid his own palm over top of Lacey’s hand and pressed down. He stopped her moving. Still feeling him of course, but she was no longer exploring. “Thanks for the flattery. You're too kind. But let's be honest. The gray hair is coming out a lot more than it used to be. I still recover from a workout very fast compared to someone else my age, but not like I did five years ago. We all lose our battle with time. So, you two should enjoy every moment. I have no regrets except…” Tait stopped for a moment. Kane could see a flash across his face of the love his father had for his mother. Tait would never allow himself to break down in public. But that reaction to a thought of his mother was enough to break Kane's anger. “Except for perhaps one. And, frankly, you remind me a bit of her, Lacey.” Tait took a breath to center himself and then he continued, “I've lived life the best I could. And still try. That's why I'm doing this. To live life the best I can before I can’t. I want the same for you two. No matter what that means and where it takes you both. Be who you are and live life to the fullest.” Lacey stopped her attempts at feeling, leaving her hand resting on his quad, but followed up, curiously. “Living our best lives is one thing, but… a pin up calendar?” Tait laughed deeply. “Ya. One of the bright ideas of the League.” Tait said sarcastically, clearly amused at the thought. “They were trying to get more female fans. So their solution was to have those of us who were particularly good looking or at least had good abs that they could airbrush pose for these pin up calendars. Guys of the Gridiron, or something just as cringeworthy, haha. “Never did a thing to get more women fans of the game as far as I know. We just became a little bit of - well - fantasy material for some women and a few guys I guess.” Tait chucked again. “But I did a few calendars to raise money for charity while I was playing. Like, the ones that raise money for animal shelters - what do they call them now “Bullies and Biceps” or “Hunks and Hounds–” Tait laughed again. “I was there with all these fitness models and bodybuilders. A fish out of water as a pro football player with these little pin up dudes. Anyway, they raised some money for good causes. That I am happy to have done. You might even be able to find some of me when I was Kane's age showing off my assets.” “But ya, I want to get truly massive if I can... in fact, I'm working out at the 49ers facility while I am here to stick to the goal. Do that at every team facility when I have to go to in-person interviews. You're both welcome to come if you like. I'm sure the team wouldn't mind.” Tait smiled. “Really,” Lacey said, clearly excited to see Tait in something a bit more revealing than proper clothing. Now it was Tait’s turn. He knew what she was thinking and slightly rubbed Lacey’s hand on his quad. It was imperceptible to anyone visually. But Lacey felt it. “Of course. As often as you like.” He looked at Kane. “Both of you. I’ve never done a workout with you, Son. That would be amazing if we could. I can even try and set up something permanent if you both want.” Feeling Tait’s touch, seeing what she saw, hearing Tait’s invitation to the gym. Lacey just couldn't resist anymore. It was so cliche - but cliche’s work because they are so often real. “Tait - would it be OK if I… if I… see your-” she stumbled over herself, a ball of hormones and nerves. Kane finally snapped. He had endured so much these last few minutes. And this was the last straw. “Lacey, get hold of yourself. This is embarrassing. You wanna date my Dad or something. You sure as hell are feeling him up. Maybe it is just better if I leave you two to it - fuck…” Kane stood to leave, when both Tait and Lacey said, “ Kane, WAIT–” Both immediately withdrew their hands from each other. And as they did Lacey realized just where her hands were. What she was doing… Fuck. Kane was right. She had been flirting with Tait this whole time. She'd been touching him since he had sat in his chair. She just… couldn't help it. Tait was so different and dominant compared to every man she had ever seen, she just felt compelled. Tait was just too powerful a presence for her instincts. She did it even though she intellectually didn't want to. And she had offended the man she loved. Lacey was about to say something when Tait again intervened, again saving the young people. “I'm sorry son. I shouldn't have allowed the conversation to go that way. And I should have stopped anything that crossed any boundaries that you both have. It is not Lacey’s fault. It is mine. You can remember how many people asked me to flex for them or take pics with them when you were a kid. It bothered your mother until she came to understand that it is nothing more than a compliment and I never would dishonor another person or myself by crossing a boundary. She even came to laugh at it. I'm sorry if I have violated any boundary between you two. Can you forgive me?” Tait’s statement about his mother brought back a flood of memories. Indeed he could remember so many times as a kid when people would ask his father to flex or ask for photos… And they'd try to feel his arm. Doing it for kids was one thing but he also remembered the women. So many women. He also remembered his parents laughing and joking after. He always thought it was his Dad being a player - and not the football kind. But now he remembered conversations. Laughing about some reaction. They never made sense to his child’s brain… Until now. “I… I guess so Dad. I didn't remember until now but she and grandma used to laugh about it. She thought you being a hunk was great fun. I… Just…” “No son. I understand. Your mother was one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. I was quite protective of her if you remember. Like I said, Lacey reminds me of her a bit. More than I think you can know. So maybe it is a bit of nostalgia too, no offense intended to Lacey. It is a GREAT compliment. But perhaps I became too familiar out of habit.” “I get it Dad. And I'm sorry. Both of you.” Tait then smiled. “OK, now if it is not violating any boundary and in the spirit we just talked about. If you're OK Kane and Lacey I'm happy to satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and flex for her. You haven't seen the truly bigger me either. And then we will laugh about it. I mean I'm not in the habit of flexing in a Michelin star restaurant. A different kind of beef than what is on the surf and turf? We can satisfy Lacey’s curiosity and I doubt she will ever ask anyone again as I doubt she will ever see any bigger…” Tait smiled broadly - a smile that could melt glaciers. Lacey said, “Kane, please. Really, I am just curious. That's all.” “Alright. Alright. Go ahead. I suppose you will always wonder until you see it. And I have to admit I am a little curious myself. You’re bigger than I ever remember you being, Dad.” Kane said in surrender - and it was true that he was curious. He didn't want to admit it and it was for a very different reason… but he wanted to see his dad flex too. “Well then kiddo, I'll give you a dose of the cannons to feel later.” Tait laughed deeply. “In the meantime, Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Tait bent down in his chair a bit to not draw quite as much attention as a full out flex would do. He held his arm down to be within easy reach and then curled his monster forearm and fist around and up. The muscles of the upper arm rose and Rose and ROSE. Tait smiled as the gigantic muscle took full form. Even Kane in disbelief said, “Christ, Dad.” Tait’s arm was the diameter of a volleyball. A tremendously shaped, peaked mountain exploded out, covered with several thick and thin veins across its surface. The thick/thin skin Lacey noted earlier traced out many striations and a well-developed cleft between the heads of the muscle. The well-made polo covering it made a creaking sound, as the stitching of the custom made shirt was stretched to the limit before Tait rolled the sleeve back to afford a full view of the monster ball and the massive hanging horseshoe beneath the dome. Tait pumped it out and in a couple times. “Thanks Son. It is better with a pump, being honest, but it’s still pretty good. Go ahead Lacey. Tell me what you think.” Lacey’s trembling hands - both of them - reached over and tried to wrap around Tait’s arm. She failed hardcore with many inches between the hand on the bottom and the hand on the top. In fact, her top hand could not even cover half of the biceps mountain. “Oh my GOD.” she said. She tried to squeeze it, but she had no ability to move it at all. It felt like a warm bronze statue in the summer. The flesh was unyielding to her at all. Yet - she felt it move, but only at Tait’s whim. Tait smiled more broadly as he saw her reaction. She moved her hands, trying to feel any soft spot, any weakness, any spot at all that felt like flesh and not rock. There was none. “Oh my God, Tait, Kane, it is SO BIG and HARD. I mean you had hard muscles when we were in school but nothing like this. Tait, you must be the strongest person ever in the gym. Jeez.” “Go ahead and hit it a bit if you want. It’s the same.” Lacey obeyed, fawning as her slight pops became harder and harder into slaps and then into punches. For a girl, Lacey was very strong and fit and knew how to throw a punch from her classes at the gym, Yet all she felt was a sting in her own hand as hit after hit did nothing but make Tait smile at her. “Fuck.” She said under her breath. “I don’t think I could make a dent in this with a baseball bat, Kane. It’s like all the muscle on your whole body is in this one arm. Your muscles have never felt like this. Your muscles are nothing like this. I bet if he squeezed you he could crush you. Wow.” She said under her breath. Tait laughed, “I take it you approve.” “It is the most manly muscle I have ever, ever felt. You’re right Tait. I never need to feel another muscle on a guy again. No one else will ever measure up. I can’t wait to see you put these football guys to shame in the 49ers gym. Can we go Kane, please. I really want to see Tait embarrass a few of those fucks I remember from school.” Tait was still flexing for Lacey, Lacey still feeling, and Kane … Kane still in utter awe. Kane would have felt offended that Lacey flatly said that she would never want to feel his body again after feeling his Dad’s but - he couldn’t. He had hugged his Dad earlier. He had felt his Dad’s body. And seeing this… he wondered if Lacey’s comment wasn’t true. He certainly could never build what his Dad had. He wished he could. He wished he could do ANYTHING to come even close to that. But he had no idea how. And Kane felt… something. Something like gravity. A pull toward SOMETHING... Kane never betrayed the gravity he felt toward his father’s muscle display. “I guess Lacey, if you want and if you are sure, Dad. I’ll go.” “Absolutely. I’ll call Roger Goodell and make it happen if I have to. He owes me a favor anyway. And… thanks for indulging and letting me show off just a bit Matty.” Kane groaned and Lacey looked up at Tait, even as he pumped his arm a few more times under her roaming hands. "Who is Matty?" Kane just looked down, his whole body seemingly turning red in embarrassment. Kane sighed. "Me. That’s what mom and dad called me as a kid. I went by Matt everywhere else except my family called me Matty - until I started using my middle name Kane in college. Guys back on the high school wrestling team heard Dad call me Matty, and the name stuck like glue." Tait looked a bit sheepish. "Damn, son. I’m sorry. There I go telling old men stories. It's just one of those old habits. I know how you feel about Matty." Lacey smiled and chuckled. “I, however, just got a little bit of leverage in the war between the sexes.” In a tremendously cheeky bold move, Lacey bent over and planted a small peck kiss on Tait’s still flexed biceps - the only part of him she could reach as big as he was. “Thank you, Tait. I may have to use it sometime… Matty.” Tait laughed hard and Kane turned redder still. It was really one of those classic parent stories they tell on their kids but… there was something in Lacey’s eyes, on her face. Something. And then it was gone. Tait spoke up. “At least if I do it now, Kane, I won’t get in as much trouble. But I will try to keep that as private as possible. Anyway, It will be a pleasure to show off for you both. It has been a while since someone appreciated what I do with the players – and to the players.” Tait laughed as he slowly lowered his arm. Lacey’s hands hung in mid air for a few moments before she lowered them. She loved Matty… rather Kane like her life depended on it, but… She just HAD to feel that arm again - HAD TO - when she could tell Tait what she really thought - alone when Kane would not hear. HAD TO before Tait left again for New York. “What do you mean Tait,” Lacey said shakily. “What do you do to players?” Tait smiled. "You both were athletes at Stanford. Imagine someone like Christian McCaffrey being told he has to be interviewed by an NFL staff psychiatrist for potential draft teams. He is expecting some short fat dork who has never even taken an elementary school flag football snap to walk in. How do those athletes react when they see me come in and the first thing I do is ask them to do is to take me through their daily workout... and the dork doc beats their ass in every lift." Kane said in a not exactly joking manner after the name “Matty” came out, "Dad has always liked to lord his abilities over other players." Tait looked at them both. "No, it's not that at all. Yes, keeping up with them or beating them in the gym is an ego boost to me, and it hits their ego. But it also serves a purpose in my psychological evaluation of them. “As a rookie in the League, no matter who you are or how good a college player you are, being new in the League, in practice and games and the locker room, you face being physically out-performed and bullied a bit by teammates and rival players. We are all paid professionals, but it is testosterone-fueled men and there is a pecking order and can be pissing wars and dick length contests, at least metaphorically. It is part of tradition, and playing with the best players in the world. Some say I am in the running for the greatest tight end of all time, and it happened to me. I remember getting my bell rung once like I was Big Ben in my first game with Charles Woodsen. Once I got accustomed to the League, half the time some corner in the secondary tried to make a tackle on me and they just bounced off. But that first year or two, I still got flattened more than once and reamed by the locker room and the coaches for it. “By me being a doctor and a retiree and still beating their lifts, I get to see in a small way how they will deal with adjustment to the League psychologically. Can they roll with it and adapt to not being Big Man on Campus anymore and be willing to learn or do they fold and wash out? It's important to see how they will react when I trash talk them a bit, since that will show me how they will take that trash talk in the locker room or that coach ripping them a new asshole for missing an assignment. They also tend to open up to me.a lot more after seeing proof that I really did play in the League. That, though I'm a doc now, I still know the NFL on the field and in the locker room - and could maybe still play if I wanted. That confidence and trust in me is important to get to their true feelings and attitudes and how those will gel with the various clubs and team cultures around the League." Lacey was utterly enchanted getting to hear some of Tait’s intellect and mental prowess at work. But even Kane understood, maybe for the first time in his life, that what he so often saw out of his dad wasn't just being a jock. He remembered what it was like to be called Matty by his teammates. How he sometimes felt belittled by it. Like a tiny boy when he would lose some practice matches or get out worked in the gym or starving to come in on weight. It gnawed at him so much so he changed his name. And the locker room at Stanford was even harder… he could nigh imagine what being a rookie in the NFL was like. The millions spent on one person - if they crumbled like he had crumbled at this lunch seeing so many innocent things as an attack. He understood. It made sense. Tait was doing them a favor by out performing them. Kane knew - he would do the same thing himself for the same reason if he had his Dad’s ability and prowess. Kane’s respect for his Dad expanded at that moment - he was more of a proper man than even he understood. The gravity toward his father increased… “What else do you do for the NFL?” Lacey asked… And so it went as the trio had a wonderful lunch. Lacey drove the conversation, pressing for more and more information about Tait. Tait, happily engaging and observing. And through the entire lunch, Lacey’s hand - whenever she could - touching and feeling Tait’s hard muscles when she thought Kane wouldn’t notice. Tait, having been told that it was no longer crossing a boundary, allowing Lacey to explore to a point. And Kane - gaining more and more appreciation and admiration. Kane’s resistance to the force that pulled him toward his dad slowly collapsing. Kane’s ability to resist his father in anything - slowly crumbling. The feeling… disturbing feeling, slowly increasing. The conflict that had slapped him in the face with the force of a steel chain to the mouth - slowly growing. But, finally, as it always does, the lunch came to an end. After Tait took care of the bill, the three of them walked through the door, and then stood outside. Tait first embraced his son. “I will be in town all week, son. I want to see you again, anytime I can. If not before the trip to the gym, then how about after that. I would really like a little father-son time if that is OK.” Tait then made his son look up as he looked down into the softer male face. “Maybe lunch or dinner, just you and me.” Tait’s tone was obvious - a time when Lacey was not there and when Kane would be a lot less defensive. And Kane could talk openly. Kane thought for a minute and nodded yes. He had never truly been able to say no to his Dad for long. He had never seen anyone who had truly been able to say no to Tait Holden. Then Tait turned to Lacey. “And you, young lady. Thank you for the wonderful meal and wonderful conversation. And I can’t wait to get to know you better as well.” “I can’t wait either, Tait.” Lacey said. The giant embraced the beauty queen, and the beauty queen returned the hug. Tait noticed something that no one could ever see given his size. Lacey - sure, she was hugging him. A hug that was a little too tight, a little too close, hands moving a little too much. She was feeling more than just his muscle again. She was leaning into him, like trying to draw strength from him. For what purpose unless it was – Tait felt her small hand slide just down just a bit. Too far down. The hand went over his hard glute cheek. Feeling, exploring. Kane could not see what she was doing given his massive frame. Tait did what he had done all night, only this time half out of reflex and half out of showing off. He flexed his glutes under her hand. The hand found them particularly impenetrable, as she traced lines until she found the entrance to one of his back pants pockets. The hand slid inside. Tait felt something… and then the hand withdrew and slid back up onto his low back. She pulled back, looked up, and gave Tait a strange, knowing glance. She then took Kane’s hand as if nothing had happened. As the three left the restaurant and Tait started for his car, Lacey could not help looking at Tait’s huge size 18 boots. She happened to wonder for a moment if the old saying was true, as she glanced down to Kane’s size 7 shoes… *** Tait got to the passenger door of the 49er’s team car and opened it. It was only then that he reached his hand into his back pants pocket. His fingers discovered a folded piece of paper. He withdrew it and opened it. Written there was a note - when had she had a chance to write this? - Was her hand feeling his leg, trying to get to a front pocket but was unable? Either way, she was good. Very good. “Tait - Please contact me ASAP. I need to see you again urgently. But text only. 123-555-1212. Please do not call. And PLEASE - Don't tell Kane. - Lacey” ***
  2. BrutalPowerDemon

    AZIZ: Fast Food

    I walked up to the closing fast food joint as a guy was locking the door and begged him to let me in for just a quick bite. He grinned and opened the door and let me in before closing and locking the doors behind us. I looked as he walked to the counter and behind it. I wasn’t here by accident. I knew how massive this kid was! As he walked, he peeled the t-shirt from his torso as I heard his deep voice rumble, “Sorry it’s so hot in here, dude. The a/c cut out a couple of hours ago and they can’t get to it until morning.” I heard him, but was distracted by the full, rounded muscles dancing across this boy’s impossibly wide back. HIs thickly muscled neck and sloping traps were clearly visible due to his short-cropped, black hair. Cannon-ball deltoids rippled and capped oaken arms on either side of this teen colossus’ body as his powerful triceps hardened and relaxed with each swing of his massive arms. He was masculine perfection! I had definitely chosen the right teen on which to test my growth serum. He walked to the back, beyond my view. In a few seconds, he returned, extending his vein-mapped arm with a cappuccino in his massive hand. I looked up into his face. GOD, he was gorgeous! Perfect Asian face, angular jaw, full lips, high and pronounced cheekbones, and piercing, black eyes. My cock lurched at the sensual assault of merely being in the presence of this young, masculine hunk. “Th-thanks.” I stuttered, “But I don’t drink cappuccinos.” The kid smirked down at me and said, “How about if I add some flavor you like, man?” he inquired smugly as he set the steaming cup on the counter in front of him. The cup sat in front of the hulking teen’s crotch and I couldn’t help but notice the bulk straining the fabric below his belt. Without thinking I looked up at him and muttered, “You’re a big one, aren’t you?” His head was leaned forward over the cup with lips pursed. He raised his eyes to meet mine as he released a long rope of spit from his mouth which flowed down into the cup. Still holding eye contact, he extended his tongue to cut off the flow of saliva and raised his head. “Never been called small, dude. Interested now?” he asked in a deep, sultry voice while pushing the large cup on the counter towards me. “What the FUCK, kid?!?! I’m not drinking that?” I blurted. “Dude! I know when a guy appreciates muscle, if you know what I mean - and I think you do. I’ve seen you in here before watching me, little man.” he purred as he raised his arms and flexed over me, his torso erupting with massive, solid mounds of muscle inundating beneath the vein-mapped, dark skin stretched over such powerful brawn. My dick responded immediately and throbbed larger, betraying my lustful appreciation for the godly Asian teen taunting me so mercilessly. He had always been so respectful when I’d been considering him for the experiment. This cockiness was unexpected. What if the serum amplified his superior attitude along with his physical stature, I wondered. The boy glanced at my tenting crotch and smiled, “Yeah, dude, you like what you see, don’t you, little man?” He lowered his arms and slowly unbuckled his belt before unbuttoning the top of his slacks and slowly lowering the zipper. I was mesmerized by every movement this rippling muscle-boy made. He lowered his slacks revealing massive, cut quads and poser briefs fighting a losing battle to contain the mass of his obviously huge cock and balls. They stretched down obscenely and continued to stretch further as his growing python throbbed larger and larger, exposing increasing amounts of the boy’s thick, venous shaft as it continued stretching the fabric thin. I was shaken from my slack-jawed stupor by the boy’s voice, “Oh, yeah, little man, you REALLY like what you see! And you’re in luck, you little size queen, ‘cause I’m horny as FUCK after roasting in this sweltering place all day.” I stepped back as he hoisted his semi-flaccid, vein-encased cock-mass from his posers, his huge, churning balls flopping out over the stretched-thin posers. It was long, at least ten inches, and thick like a vein-wrapped, throbbing beer can with an even thicker, mushroom head beginning to bubble pre-cum from its hungry, gaping slit. He took my cappuccino and stepped back from the counter. He smirked, once again, and lowered the cup to below his prodigious penis, his arms and chest ballooning with muscular size as he did so. “I KNOW what you like, little man.” he purred as he flexed and wagged his semi-hard cock forcing incredible amounts of pre-cum to bubble forth to flow into the steaming cup. At the same time, from above, he pursed his thick lips and deftly spit a little more saliva into the cup. “W-W-What are you d-d-d-oing?!??” I quivered as I felt my now rock-hard dick begin to pour pre-cum into my jeans watching this cocky and horny, drop-dead gorgeous Asian teen. “More flavor and thicker body for your drink, mister. I told you I knew what you like and what you want.” he stated smugly as he lowered his cock-head into the drink and began to stir it with his pre-leaking, growing cock. “Holy FUCK!” I blurted as he closed his eyes and licked his grinning lips. The thought of what my serum might do to this horse-hung, muscle-bound, and studly hunk short-circuited any misgivings I may have had about continuing with my experiment. “Mmmm, oh, YEAH!” he rumbled as he slowly removed his sex-trunk from the cup, still dripping coffee, saliva, and pre-cum back into the steaming liquid. “That cappuccino is almost as hot as I am, little man.” He stroked his thickening, elongating cock a couple of times before lifting his hand to his lips and lapping his man-cappuccino from his powerful appendage. “Yeah, THAT”S the way you like it. Maybe after you finish your drink, I’ll feed you, little man. You said you’re hungry, right, muscle slut?” he asked as he licked his long, thick fingers. “Now I bet you’re REALLY hungry and feel like feeding on a fucking muscle-teen cock, boi, don’t you?” “Yes, Sir.” I responded automatically as one of my hands in my pockets gripped my rigid pole through the fabric, pre-cum now pulsing visibly through my jeans. With my free hand, I reached in my other pocket and grabbed the pre-filled syringe. He held the cup out to me and ordered, “Quench your thirst, first, little man, but, first, strip and show me what YOU’RE made of, little man.” My eyes dilated, taking in his massively muscular, sexually charged form, and stunningly rugged, handsome face. I stumbled back. “WHAT?” I blurted out, trying to figure how to inject this kid. He was not the docile, muscle-bound teen I had thought he was. The muscle-boy stepped back, lowered the cup to his now rigid, foot-long cock pointing straight up in front of his thickly muscled abdominals and below the overhang of his massive pectorals. “Beg for it, boy!” he commanded with complete authority. “Beg for your muscle-god’s spit and pre-cum cappuccino.” He smirked as he raised his free arm and flexed hard. He turned his stunning face and kissed the mountain of split-headed biceps towering up to his massive, clenched fist. He then extended his long, thick tongue and lapped at the expansive, hard surface of the bunched muscle as a guttural, “Mmmm, yeah.” rumbled from his throat. “Oh my GOD!” I blurted. The impossibly swole and handsome teen looked down at me and smirked. “Oh, YEAH, little power freak, tell me more! You want to worship this powerful muscle teen, little man? Be my little bitch, maybe my fucking cum dump?” he growled, aggression obviously festering beneath his self-assured attitude of superiority. He thrust the cup towards me. “Drink it. NOW!” he ordered. I grabbed the cup and slurped it down greedily before handing the empty cup back to him. He grinned, snatched the cup from my hand and pushed his cock head down as he flexed his abs hard. Pre-cum shot into the cup and continued flowing until the large cup was full of his hot, manly nectar. “Holy FUCK!” I blurted in awe as he released his rigid tool and it slapped back up into his abs with a loud THWACK, splattering his still flowing pre-cum onto his lower chest and corrugated abs. I quickly snatched the syringe from my pocket, lifted it to my mouth, and bit down on the needle-cap, pulling it off. Fortunately, he had been focusing on the pre-cum overflowing cup in his hand and I stepped towards him as I moved my hand with the needle behind my back. I took the cup overflowing with his hot pre-cum and roping to the floor. I lifted the cup to my lips, tilted my head back, opened my mouth, and tipped the cup. The thick, salty-sweet pre-cum dumped from the cup in a wad, filling my mouth and flowing over my face and clothing as I gulped down what I could, scooping what escaped from my face and clothing and hungrily devouring it. “Awww, YEAH, little bitch!” the teen muscle-boy boomed. “You're a hungry little cock sucker, aren’t you?” He pushed his cock back down with one hand while grabbing the back of my head with the other, pulling my mouth to his flared, throbbing, and pre-cum pulsing cock head. I opened my pre-slick mouth as he plopped his large mushroom cock crown through my lips. I looked up and saw him smirking down at me as he began to slowly force his shaft into my face I had intended on talking to the boy and asking him if he wanted to be even bigger, the biggest man alive, actually, but I obviously couldn’t talk. He, obviously, loved being massive and in control. I looked up to see his head thrown back into his muscular shoulders as he moaned, “Fuck yeah, little cock-sucker! EAT that massive MEAT!” he rumbled lustily. Still looking at the sexy vision of his handsome face nestled in between his muscled shoulders and thick, rippling neck, eyes closed, I quickly jabbed the needle in his hard, throbbing shaft, and depressed the plunger. He apparently was so into skull fucking me that the injection directly into his long, thick penis didn’t even register. I dropped the needle as he impaled my face balls deep onto his fuck trunk and he moaned, “Oh, FUCK, little man! My cock’s on FIRE! SUCK, little fucker, SUCK! I was choking as he began to rhythmically pile-drive his sex trunk into my throat. Skull fucking was an understatement with the sexually charged teen sex machine. Apparently, my choking was pleasant stimulation because, just before I passed out, I felt the first volley of his volcanic ejaculation flood my stomach. His volume filled my gut until it was pushed back up my throat and out around his shaft. He withdrew his artillery from my mouth and kept cumming, covering me in his jizz. I stumbled back and looked up at him. He had a blissful look on his face as he looked down at me. “Fuck, little cock sucker. That was fucking AWESOME! I’ve never cum so much in my LIFE . . . not even with chicks! And FUCK! I’m still hard as a rock and horny as HELL!” he breathed heavily. I could see his large balls churning, pulling up into his body, then lowering, over and over. He began to stroke his cum slick shaft slowly and moan, “Oh, god . . . oh god . . . oh, FUCK! I feel so fucking horny, so hot! UNGH! Oh, FUCK! My muscles feel tight and hard, pumped, like I just worked out, man!” He looked down at me, raised his arms and flexed, looked over his muscle bulging body, then back down. His eyes focused on the needle. “What the FUCK, you fucking faggot! What did you do?” he bellowed even as he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his torso and gut. “Oh, SHIT! I burn and hurt all over! What the hell did you stick me with, you fucking little FREAK?” I scooted back against the wall. From the times I’d spent examining him at his workplace, I remembered his name was Aziz. “Aziz,” I spoke to him, “You want to be bigger, don’t you? I’ve been working on a serum to help you be more muscular and larger than you already are! I was going to ask you, but, well, it ‘s so obvious you want to be the biggest, the strongest.” He raised his handsome face, wracked with pain, then, suddenly, the pained expression was replaced with one of almost sheer ecstasy. He hissed, “Oh, FUCK! YESSSS!” he hissed. “This feels fucking AWESOME!” He threw his head and shoulders back and roared, “Oh, FUUUUCCKKK!” My jaw dropped at what I was seeing. Thick, hose-like veins pulsed to the surface of his dark, flawless skin. Every square inch throbbing with the blood rushing through his system, feeding his muscles. I saw muscle fibers rippling beneath the stretched-thin skin as it expanded his muscles balloon with solid size and power. Massive, round boulders of muscle bulging larger and larger. He was expanding in size in all directions. He head hit the ten feet ceiling He stepped forward, THROUGH the counter as it exploded away from his oaken legs. He hunched over, growling, as he continued to expand. His feet were now MASSIVE! He growled again and stood upright, blasting through the ceiling and roof of the building. All I could see was two massively muscular tree-trunks of legs with cut, rolling quads and diamond shaped calves larger than my torso. And a cock . . . my GOD! . . . hanging out and over balls as large as my head and drooping to the boy’s knees. Those knee-caps were six feet from the floor! I looked up through the hole in the roof through which Aziz had exploded. He was grinning ear to ear, his glistening white teeth contrasting with the dark complexion of his stunningly handsome face. Massive muscles rippled with power all over his body! He was running his expansive hands over his thickly muscled torso and rippling abdominal bricks. Something caught his eye and I saw him lean over, his abs exploding with rippling size. As he stood back up, I saw his hand holding a car! An evil grin formed his stunningly handsome, Asian face as he reached to the car’s roof with his free hand, his fingers easily piercing the windshield and peeling the roof back as his torso rippled and bulged with power. He plucked the screaming little man from the car like he was nothing but a toy. The man was yelling and flailing about uselessly. “SHUT THE FUCK UP, DAD!” Aziz’s deep voice rumbled as he shook the man he held his fist like nothing but a ragdoll. “YOU THOUGHT I WAS A FREAK BEFORE? HA! LOOK AT ME NOW, DAD! I’M A FUCKING MUSCLE GOD!” Aziz dropped the wrecked car to the street and lifted his other hand and grabbed the half of his dad dangling from the fist holding him. He held his thickly muscled arms in front of his sneering face. The swole arms solidified as he slowly bent the man coming to his senses slowly backwards. The man shrieked in pain. Aziz’s thick cock throbbed larger and twitched, pre-cum bubbling from the large piss-slit. Aziz grinned as the screaming stopped abruptly with the sound of his father’s spine snapping in two. “AWWW, YEAH!” the teen roared as he pulled his dad’s corpse in two, blood and entrails splattering onto his muscled chest and down to the street below. I heard the rumbling of the colossally muscled teen’s muscled gut as he lifted half of his dad’s body to his mouth and took a bite, the sound of bone crunching between his teeth, blood dripping from his lips. “My god!’ I trembled excitedly as I released my steel hard and throbbing dick from my slacks and began to stroke witnessing this stunningly handsome, muscle-bound colossal teen brutally snuff his dad without remorse. I stood and ran to the door, unlocked it and stepped out onto the sidewalk. I looked up as Aziz swallowed, dropped the remaining pieces of his dad’s body to the street with a wet SPLAT. Aziz looked down in eyes and thundered, “Oh, YEAH, you little cock-sucker, I want to be a fucking brutal GOD of powerful muscle!” as he moved one expansive foot over his dad’s lower half and ground it into the pavement cracking under his power “Goddamned fucking insect.” he muttered in disgust. He wrapped a bloody fist around his long, thick cock and slowly stroked, obviously horny with the deadly power his enormous muscle-bod contained. I stood drooling and stroking in lustful awe of this titanically muscular Asian teen obviously drunk with power and bloodlust. Being late at night, the streets were empty in this part of town, thankfully, and I decided to plead for mercy from this godly boy’s destructive, lust-fueled urges. “I hope you are pleased that I chose you, Aziz, to become the most muscular and powerful man on the planet! He raised his arms and flexed, admiring his inhuman musculature, his cock twitching lustfully. “Fuck, I’m HUGE!” he grinned. I continued, “You are a PERFECT man, Aziz! No, not a man, a GOD! You are manly, masculine PERFECTION! All men will instantly feel inferior in the presence of your Herculean, muscular size. Seeing your endowment will cause them to question if they are even men at all! Your hulking body was worthy of worship before I injected you, but now . . .” I began to breathe in ragged gasps, “now you are an unstoppable GOD whose very presence DEMANDS worship!” I lustfully gushed. Aziz sneered down at me, snatched me from the sidewalk in a blood-dripping fist, and lifted me to his stunning face. “You fucking little size queen! You have NO idea what you’ve done, of the things I’ve dreamed of doing, no, the things I’ve LUSTED to do! You’ve given me the power to unleash my deepest and darkest desires, you stupid, insignificant little FUCK!” he growled. Being held in this massively muscular, powerful teen’s fist, hearing his thunderous voice, feeling the humid heat blasting from his dark, sweating flesh, seeing his mountains of bulging, rippling muscles, I felt my body tense and erupt in orgasmic bliss in his palm. “Yeah, you pathetic, fucking little FAG, you can’t help but cum for me, can you, you weak little bitch.” he derided. “I bet every time you came in and watched me, you ducked into the bathroom and jacked your tiny little penis off thinking of me and my muscles, didn’t you, then you went home and masturbated to me even more.” he sneered. Hearing this young beast growl his desire to dominate and the thought of seeing this seething young mountain of muscle unleash his unstoppable power and insatiable bloodlust caused my spent dick to rocket to rock-hard, worshipful attention against the hot, jizz dripping palm in which he held me fast. His overbearing attitude and belittling demeanor withered any desire I might have had to object to anything pertaining to him. “Almighty Aziz,” I spoke as I looked into his dark, massive eyes, “you knew I worshiped your body when I walked in tonight. But NOW, my GOD! I exalt and praise all that you are! You are a GOD of savage and merciless supremacy and strength. Your sexual appetites are brutish and insatiable, your bloodlust ravenous and unquenchable. I now exist only to please you and to witness you satisfying your deepest and darkest cravings. I will serve you until my last breath, Almighty Aziz.” I ended, panting and drooling. Aziz raised his thick and venous free arm and wiped the blood dripping from his lips and grinned before lowering his arm to continue stroking his ponderous penis. “Good little parasite, my first disciple. Your coworkers will be your first offering to your GOD. Direct me to your lab.” he ordered with an evil grin. I hesitated as I thought of my co-workers, my closest friends being nothing but an offering to this colossal, obviously murderous muscle-god. Then I looked over the immensity of muscular power rippling before my eyes, I looked down at a fist that could crush granite to sand slowly stroking a man-sized cock-shaft mapped with cable-like veins. I reached out and placed a palm on the hot, sweaty flesh covering a mountainous, rippling pectoral as Aziz licked his full lips and his stomach rumble, once again. Then I remembered how Aziz, without remorse, snapped his father in two like a dried twig and ripped him apart effortlessly before snacking on some of the remains. My lust to see my GOD reveal his power, to assume his rightful place as GOD to puny humans, to witness his destructive brutality. My lusts quickly overrode my paltry devotion to any other but HIM. “YES, my GOD!” I responded lustfully. “The lab is just on the outskirts of town, out by the army base.” Aziz grinned, turned, and began walking down the center of the deserted street, each footfall leaving a cratered print.
  3. Hello, I had this story(part of the story) in ma head for long time so I started it to try out how things will evolve. Every feedback will be appreciated! Hi, honey how was your day? Asked Jake sitting on couch drinking tea. Name: Jake Age: 26 Height:5´10 (178cm) Body type: Slim fit Weight: 167lbs (76 kg) Cock: 6,7 inches (17cm) I guess OK, long boring day, not many clients today. Answered Ty walking to Jake and kissing him on forehead. Name: Tyler Age: 27 Height:5´7 (172cm) Body type: Build fat??? Weight: 209lbs (95 kg) Cock: 5,5 inches (14cm) “But I got something that I hope you would like...no love”: and showed Jake a silverish steel briefcase with yellow logo which said: Modify yourself “No way! How did you get that? And whole package? How many of it its inside?” "7! And ready for use!": Tyler opened the briefcase and revealed 7 syringes inside with shimmering purple liquid inside them. They looked different than normal ones. No piston to push and needle was only 0,2 inch (0,5 cm). “So where you want them, Ty? You know well I don’t have problem to stick anything into you. Big grin formed on Jakes face.” “Funny, and I would normally just go with try and error but I don’t want to look like a freak so we should check the manual.” Under the syringe was paper manual, Tyler took it out, but Jake elegantly took it from Ty’s hand. "By the look of it you will need most of them just to look normal.... If normal means big. You need one syringe for each arm and leg + torso with that you are left only with 2. Wow that’s lame..." "Give me that! And what do you mean lame? I’m happy I got my hands on it! Let me see what the options for rest of the 2 syringes are.” Cock (Increase cock size) Balls (Increase balls/cock size + libido) Pecs (Increase size) Ass (Increase size) Head (Increase IQ/EQ) DISCLAMER! - Intensity of change varies from human to human “Hmmmmm....soooo......what you want to get "EDDITED" Ty?” “You don’t like me how I’m now Jacob?” “Boo hoo, poor Tyler, we both know you didn’t buy that stuff for me. Sooo? With what should we start?” “Ok, take out the syringes out Jacob, I go change into something more suitable and looser, so I won’t suffocate.” “What? NO no no no no.... not happening. You come here only in your boxers.” “Hahahah, fine just give me a second.” When Tyler came back into the living room 5 syringes were already laid out on the table. “Why only 5? What you did you do with the rest Jacob?” “Chill out would you? I’m keeping them safe for later, in manual it says, even if you are using syringes for example arms, the rest may potentially grow too a little so those two will be used tomorrow if needed to. Since this is first batch, it will take time to fully develop. It says 2-3 hours and we are going to use 5 at once so let’s not overdo it.” “So what are you waiting for? Shove them in me!!” “With pleasure.” Jake took syringe after syringe and used them for arms legs and torso as recommended. “So how do you feel? Do you feel anything?” “No, not at all, but they said it will take a while so what are we going to do now?” “Ty, you are too impatient. Let’s watch movie, time will fly by faster. You are not only one impatient in this situation and you are not helping. Do you want something to drink?” “Yes, can you bring me cup of coffee?” “Suure.... but coffee for evening? Will you be able to sleep at night?” “Well, its Friday and we just used body modifying serum, so I hope we are not just going to sleep tonight.” "Right.": Jakes face was red and on fire. He loved when Tyler was like this. Since he was more introverted than Tyler, he often felt his voice drowned by Tylers. Jake placed both cups on the coffee table, covered his lower half with blanket and same did for Ty. Jake leaned on Ty shoulder. Didn’t take long and bot fell asleep. ===================================================Part 2================================================== Jake woke up to getting suffocated. He had to slid lower during sleep, so his face was under Ty hand. Still dizzy, he got up and took both cups. They were cold, he went into the kitchen and pour it out into the sink. ** “What a waste of good coffee.” He looked at the clock. 21:26. Didn’t Ty used the syringes at 17:30. It was almost 3 hours since then!! Jake rushed into the living room. “Ty? Wake up!” “What? What is happening? Did I fell asleep?” Tyler saw Jake is getting redder by second and his breathing speeding up and then he saw why, Jakes bulge was screaming from his trousers. Tyler stood up, he was looking into Jacobs eyes but this time he was looking down. “I sweet! My height increased too! "Look at those abs, my fat is gone! WOW this is awesome! Look at my chest, so define and..... wow my bulge seems bigger! Wanna check?" Jake was in state of trans looking at Ty, his brain just stops working, he was too horny for that. Tyler came close to Jacob, close enough for his pec be just few inches from Jacobs. "Pull the pants down. Let’s compare them. You were bigger before, how big yours again?" "6,7 inches" Jake pulled his pants down with his briefs and his painfully hard cock flung from his confinement. Tyler grabbed both cocks to compare. "Dude! I was only 5,5 inches but LOOK AT IT NOW! We are almost the same now! Thats crazy. Jake, go get the tape to measure it. .......Jake?" "Jake, honey, go and bring me the measuring tape.": said Tyler now with much lower voice. Jake whole body made a small twitch, which after he got out of the trans but when he moved his cock was still in Tylers hands. Jacob tried to pull one more time, but it only made his cock sends shivers of pleasure trough his body. “T-Ty you have to let me go if you want that tape.” Jake was starts panting quietly now, while grip on his cock just got stronger. With confusion Jake looked at Tylers face that was grinning at him back. “I just changed my mind, we can measure later, now, you are mine.” Tyler pulled Jake towards him into his embrace with Jake face right in front of Tylers. Tyler didn’t wait any second and gave Jake one huge passionate kiss, he started to feel something, something different, something he could describe as a bond forming. Even though they were together for 5 and married for 3 years, he knew it wasn’t love, he felt plenty of that for Jake, this was different. Tyler lifts Jake, Jake got surprised since Tyler had always problem lifting him. Tyler carried him into their bedroom like he weights nothing. Tyler slammed Jake on bed, Jaked turned around and saw Tyler pouncing on him like wild animal. Tyler pined Jake down to bed by holding his arms, lowered his head and licked Jake form his abs to his torso. Then he whispered into Jakes ear: “I haven nice prey here but, to be mine, I have to claim it first.” Right after that, without any warning, Tyler shoved his newly improved cock into Jake. Taken by surprise, Jake screamed from pain and pleasure. Tylers thrusts just got more intense. He was looking at Jakes flushed face and his cock was twitching like crazy. With one hand Tyler grabbed Jakes cock and start jerking it. This took Jake into overdrive and started cumming like he was holding it in for full year. Cumming changed into twitching, from reaching full body orgasm. He never felt like this before. “Now it’s my turn!”: Roared Tyler as his thrust slowed down but were more passionate, after few strong thrusts he came what felt like 5 minutes. It was intense Tylers cum made small bulge in Jakes tummy. The amount was just too much, cum was pushing Tylers cock out of Jake but Tyler shoved it in one more time to make sure it all stays in. Tyler kissed already passed out Jake and tired from sex he too fell asleep next to him hugging him tightly. When Jake woke up, Ty wasn’t in bed anymore. However, Jake heard laptops keyboard popping in the living room so he just decided he will take a shower. Inside under the falling water Jake was thinking about last night. The way Tyler was more daring was super-hot. Although Tyler was toping half of the time, he was more passionate and romantic rather than dominant. This train of thoughts gave Jake a boner, when he touched his dick, his legs gave away and he dropped to the shower floor panting. His dick was after last night super sensitive, was it because of the intensity of sex or body orgasm? Who knows, he knew only one thing, he must get rid of it. That was not really a problem since just few strokes made him cum, in his mid he saw Tyler, now beefy man with no hair flexing. Without touching, thanks to this thought Jake came again. After he cleaned himself again, he put on clothes and went to check on Ty what he was doing. Tyler was sitting on the sofa with his laptop on his legs. Jake couldn’t properly see what he was reading, only thing he saw was logo of Modify yourself company. “What are you looking at?” “Nothing really, just checking on other people before and after pictures. The transformations are fascinating.” “I can see by those used tissues next to you.” “You bet, and I didn’t have to even use porn, just flex in front of mirror. Till you were asleep I measured and weighted myself. I’m 6,1 feet exactly and weight 210lbs. Even though I lost some weight, it was only fat I lost, and I’m mainly muscle now.” Tyler stands up and flex for his husband his new muscle, new pride. “Holy shit! It seems you are even bigger than yesterday? Will you keep growing?” “No, serum should wear off, but we have 2 more and if what I saw on forum is true this day will be interesting.” “Do you know how are you going to use them? What part is going to change?” “You will see, but for now I want to enjoy this, let’s go to the gym to see my limits.” “Do you really want to go to the gym on Saturday?” “Yes, I believe you will like it, maybe even more than me. So go grab your gym bag.”: said Tyler again with his lower voice. “You know I can’t say no if you say it like that, it practically cheating.” ===================================================Part 3================================================== “We are here!” “Yea, I’m “super” hyped.” “Don’t be like that pumpkin, we came here to test my new muscles.” “No, you came here to test your new muscles, I came here because I got charmed by you and till I realized what happened we were here.” “Excuses, get your ass inside." "Fine, but I’m just going to watch. I have plenty of training during the week, I want to relax during the weekend." "Boo-hoo one more day of training. You cand do cardio instead of eating sweats you like so much and It’s not like you would be able to spot me :P" After they changed clothes and some additional whining form Jake, they entered training area. Tyler when right for the weights and Jake for the treadmill. After and half hour Jake went buy some drinks, post workout shakes for Tyler and water for him to satiate his thirst after so much running. On the way out as he turned around, he slammed with his face into guy behind him. Drinks went flying. Shake cup splashed their whole content onto guys torso. Jake went pail, the guy was ripped, Jake knew that if this guy was on roids, what he was by his physique, he will end up purple from beating. He immediately started to apologize. With his T-shirt he tried to rub the shake off the guy. "Deeeam bunny, do you do this service to all dudes? Jakes eyes went wide, that huge, ripped guy was Tyler. "What the actual..." Tyler covered Jakes mouth with his hand. "Sir, we apologize for the mess, but we are in a hurry, sorry we can’t help to clean up the mess. “: With that Tyler grabbed Jakes hand and dragged him to the car. In car Jake got his senses back. "What the actual fuck happened to you? I thought you said there is no more growing. But look at you, you are huge." "And you are hard. “: Said Ty and grabbed Jakes hard cock in his pants. "Aa-aahhh, stop gripping it like that or I... aaaaAAAh“: Jake gripped Ty’s hand and with big difficulty he pushed it away with both hands. "Don’t worry I’m just teasing you, but we have to hurry home the main event is still waiting us at home." They were home in 10 minutes, whole drive Jake couldn’t look away from Tyler. He looked so big and manly now. Bigger, taller, Jake was winning only in crotch area now and not by lot after yesterday dose. During the ride Tyler wasn’t thinking about anything else, only about the main event that he kept from Jake and his cock only got harder just by thinking about it. If Jake thought this was hot, he was eager to know what Jake would think after. ===================================================Part 4================================================== After they entered the house Ty started to drag Jake to the bedroom, but Jake stopped Ty right way. "Ty I really need a shower and you are too. You are still sticky from the shakes!" "Don’t be a buzz kill bunny, this one will be special I promise!" "I’m down for shower fuck, would that be a possibility?" "I think that would make my surprise even more fun. “: Said Tyler with devilish grin. "Oke, so let’s go." "Go there first, I just have to take something with me." "Hmmm, I will be waiting." Tyler went into the living room and took out last two syringes with him. In bathroom Tyler placed syringes on the sink counter and flex in the mirror. He loved how buff he was, and his cock loved that too. He stands on the scales and it showed 235lbs. "Fuck, I’m huge." "Were you saying something?" "Yes, I said open the shower door and watch!" "What are you talking abo...." When Jake opened the door he saw Tyler, muscles pumped with blood to brim making him look even bigger and his cock almost purple how hard he was, holding both syringes. "There is a theory, about these syringes. The reason they took them out of the shelves and now are heavy regulated. If you have “ALPHA” gene and use this serum on your balls and back of your head at the same time, in places closest to your testosterone and growth glands you can activate this gene. "What? But those guys are so rare to see there are only in thousands in whole world!" "And I’m going to became one of them. WATCH!" As Tyler said those words, he grabbed the syringes. First one went between his cock and ball sack and second one was shoved into top of his neck near the spine. Since this was the second dose of the serum the changes begun instantly. Tylers whole body cramped making him look more defined, after the muscles relaxed, they started to grow even bigger. First his pec grew into huge melon sized pillows, his nicely cut abs, now they each shaped like a brick sticking out one inch each. His back was next, huge lats like wings were pushing his still small arms away from his core body. His back was now full of valleys form all that bulging muscles fighting for space. After back it was time for hands, the shoulders grew into the size of bowling ball, biceps into Cantaloupe the rest of the hands grew into size to match. His legs started to shake, first from the weight that grew on top of them but later from their own growth. Tylers legs became huge tree trunks, one leg was bigger than Jakes chest. When all muscles stop growing his veins popped out. Huge pencil size veins. Tyler roared, seeing only red from so much testosterone. His hair grew longer and got wild shape, his clean shaved chin grew thick twelve o’clock shadow. From this whole growing Jake noticed not only Tylers muscles but also heigh increased. From 6,1 into 7,85. He looked like real alpha from news. Tyler looked in direction of scared Jake. Jakes heart was beating for his life and was horny as never before. His husband just grew in front of his eyes into muscular, wild looking alpha. Tyler waked into the shower corner, he had to duck and enter sideways. Jake was pushed into the corner. Tyler was so big now that water from shower head was poured only on his wide back fully covering Jake from getting more water on him. "Don’t worry it’s not over yet. The fun part aaaAHH-AAAhhh Haaa-ha it’s still coming. “: Said Tyler with deep voice, the voice was even deeper than the voice he used to taunting Jake to get him going. Tyler pointed in into his crotch. His balls started to inflate, from grapes into lemons then big oranges and ended up as two grapefruits tightly fitted into still not adapted ball sack. The rush of huge amount of testosterone got Tyler into overdrive.His clean shaved face grew beard and made his face more rugged. He roared like wild beast he now was. His whole body flexed and grew even more, as he was leaning on the wall with his right hand the tiles behind his hand cracked. Tyler felt it’s time for his cock. "It’s time! ": Tyler shouted. With his huge hands he grabbed Jake, he tried to protest but the grip wasn’t like in the car on the way here. This time it was like he was held by machine. No matter how hard he tried, it looked like Tyler didn’t even noticed there was any attempt of escape. Jake looked down and saw that Tyler is lowering him on his angrily red, metal hard cock. Tyler didn’t wait and just shoved his dick in. "AAAAaaah" They both screamed, both from pleasure and pain. "It is starting!" As these words were spoken, Tylers cock started to twitch. With each pulse his cock grew. Jake realized it right away and it was not only growing inside of him but outside too. Tylers base of his cock was getting so big it was slowly pushing itself out from Jake ass. "Not a chance! “: Screamed Tyler and shoved Jake back to the base of his cock. “Last time I felt the bond because I was so close to Alpha hood but this time, THIS TIME! I will forge it. And then you will be only mine!" Jake didn’t understand since Alphas never talked much about their bond since for them and their partners the bond was sacred. Only thing that was known was that bond was something that bonded two of them for their life. It was not possible to remove it and only way to make new bond was if the "beta" partner died before "alpha". And rumors were that there were other strong abilities that bond had. But Tyler now knew, no, more like felt what he needed to do. He felt his cock throb with each of his heartbeat. With each throb the cock grew bigger, thicker and the veins became big as a pen. Jake could feel the ridges of the veins adding on pleasure. He felt like Ty’s dick was almost in his chest. The feeling was crazy. "T-T-Ty! Ty! Tyler! ": Cried Jake. "I can’t, please, pull it out, AAAAAaaaa-aaahhhh. I’m scared, I’m scared of you, put me down." "Shut up! You talk too much. I’m in charge now! If I say something, you do it!” Tyler pulled out his cock, it was huge, at least twice of Jakes cock. In front of Jake was over foot big cock. It had to be at least 14 inches long. "God, no wonder I felt I was filling you up whole. My cock is almost as long as your torso and thick as your arm, no bigger! My transformation for now it seems to be over, time to do the bond." "Tyler, you can’t think you can shove it back into me. ": Cried Jake. Tyler hand flew next to the Jake head into the wall behind him, but this time it wasn’t only tiles that gave up. Tyler made hole through the wall. With his other hand Tyler took Jake by his neck and lift him till Jakes legs we no longer touching the floor. "You dare to defy me! You are mine! ": Tylers scream was so loud Jake felt all his bones inside him. His neck was starting to form bruises. Tyler pulled out his hand out of the wall and let he of Jakes net. He grabbed his legs instead. Now only things that was supporting Jake were Tylers hands and wall behind him. Tyler aimed his cock into Jakes ass and forcefully penetrated Jake. Tyler started mercilessly fucking Jake. Jake was screaming, from pain from the grip on his legs and huge cock that was coming out and in from his ass. He felt like something was breaking inside him. Not his body but inside his spirit. "I feel it, YES! I’m fucking FEEEL IT!" "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaahh!" Screamed Jake as Tyler for last time shoved his cock inside. Jakes whole body spasm from body orgasm and all that movement was just supporting Tyler huge orgasm. Jake cock shot so hard it hit Tylers face. Tyler meanwhile came so hard it pushed Jake from his cock and felt on the ground where he wasn’t safe. The stream of cum continued as Tylers balls tried to empty all the content. Tyler also couldn’t hold himself standing and felt to his knees overwhelmed from the orgasm. The cock still shooting thick ropes of cum covering whole Jakes body. Jake was still shaking but even Jake didn’t know from what. Was it from that strong body orgasm? Or the stress and how much scared he was from Tyler now? He didn’t know. Tyler rinsed himself and left the shower with Jake on the floor. After a while Jake made attempt to stand up but found out he had to unstick himself from the wall he was connected by Tylers cum. He washed himself and went to the bed. His legs hurting as hell. Tyler was already in bed taking most of. Jake decided it would be best if he don’t sleep with Tyler in same bed so left to lay down on the couch and after a short cry, he fell asleep.
  4. dreamboy

    The Gym Janitor Chapter 3.

    WARNING: This story may contain content that may not be in good taste. Obviously not suitable for minors under 18. If this isn’t for you, kindly keep scrolling. I arrived to work the next evening contemplating on actually not going in. Sitting in my car I realized, nothing is going to be the same. Nothing. If I walk in there, I’ll just be reminded of it all. Cause what the fuck happened last night? First off, the usual was me gawking at the muscular daddy during his workout. Then, me stuffing his oh so tasty jockstrap down the depths of my mouth. Leaving him to catch me in the act and doing it himself? “See you around, faggot.” The phrase rang in my ear during the day, even in my sleep. ‘See you around.’ I see him then what? What will he do? Tell Kyle? Call the cops? What exactly did he mean? I was eager to know but too afraid to actually find out. *** The front desk clerk often just clocks in and goes back to her car to sleep since no one besides him ever really comes in. Regulars get the privilege of not having to strictly check in. Like yesterday, not much cleaning besides ass stains left on certain machines and very few plates laying around. I look over to the dumbbell area and reminisce of his smirk. That’s damned smirk. A little tweak on his devious smile that exuded alpha, as if in he knew why I was so starstruck. He did, in all fairness. My question was, why would he further feed into my creepy intentions? Cause let’s be honest, what I did rummaging through his belongings was perverted as hell and he could easily call the police and file for sexual harassment or something but no. He shoved his crotch-scented jockstrap further down my throat… Since she’s in her car I often just lounge around the front desk, making an accordion out of sticky notes, play snake on the computer, or just take a nap as well. Today I just felt very philosophical in a sense. Last night’s encounter changed my perspective on…well me. Why the fuck did I let him degrade me like that? And why the hell did I enjoy it so fucking much? I grabbed a sticky note and wrote: What would life be if submission didn’t feel so instinctive? I got degraded by a muscle god in the most disrespectful way and I liked it…? What am I to do if he’d take more control of me? Am I just another faggot of his? Or am I of upmost importance that he’d reuse me? Somewhat of a poet when life brings no meaning. Except that’s what I’m questioning. Meaning. The wondering is what aches me. The lingering question of whether that is my purpose, eat, shit, work, sleep, repeat. Or if my purpose was to enhance the life of someone far superior than I am? My epiphany gets cut off as the front doors open. All of a sudden, life went slow motion. Think of those shots of the lifeguards in Baywatch but slow motion, only this was dirt in comparison. From the floor up, I gazed as I took in the massive frame of the man who vulgarized me. He walks in with his gym bag strapped over his shoulders and chewing gum. “Hello,” I quaked,”welcome. Just sign in a-and go r-right ahead.” FUCK. Why was I shaking? Stand your ground. Your legs may turn to jelly when you’re near him but don’t give him that much control. “Oh what,”he smirked,”you don’t recognize me?” “I’m sorry?”I asked. “Don’t act hard to get you runt,” he affirmed. I simply looked down at the computer keyboard. Why was I so turned on right now? “Now,”he begun,”where’s that little miss priss that’s usually here?” “In her car, napping.” “Excellent,” a devious smile formed on his face. “Now,”he continued,” I’m assuming since you aren’t tidying up the place you have some free time?” Before I said a word he stuck his hand out in motion to cut me off. “Never mind that, get up.” I followed him over to the dumbbell area, the same place as yesterday. He turns and hands me his gym bag. “Hold this.” He dropped the bag on my held out arms and turned around to adjust the seat on the bench to an inclined angle. Him leaning over caused a plump on the back of his shorts. Fuck his ass was plump, firm, round. You can easily tell he does not skip leg day. “Go fetch me a towel rag, boy.” ‘Boy.’ What the hell? I know he’s more mature than me but as far as me being such a low for him I would not drag me to being deemed as such a fragile person. Regardless, I did not want to get on his bad side. One punch would send me flying to next week I fear. I “fetched him the towel” then he placed it on the seat of the bench. He went to grab a set of 65s from the rack. Woah. Incline 65? “Grab my lock combination and take my bag to the same locker as last night,” he said,”DON’T go through my shit, I’m giving you thirty seconds, if you’re not back by then you’ll see.” I pace rapidly to the locker room which wasn’t too far. The same locker as last night, how could I forget. I grabbed the already lock combination and opened the locker. Jammed. SHIT. I yanked as hard as I could until it finally budged and I tensely place the gym bag in and managed to click the lock combination closed. I RAN back out there and headed towards the dumbbell area. “THREE…Two…one,” he barked. Fuck. “Oh,”he said sarcastically,” you JUST missed it.” I was panting, man I’m out of shape. “Get on the ground now, runt, facing down.” I did so. In anticipation, he lifted the pair of dumbbells from his sides and placed them flat on my back. FUCK. HOLY SHIT. I CAN’T BREATHE. He leaned forward to meet eye to eye. “Here’s what e gonna happen alright you cunt,”he ordered,” anytime you disobey me I’ll have you do far more humiliating shit than this and last night combined, is that understood?” I nodded. “IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?” “Yes sir.” “Good,”he smiled. He began hawking then he spat on my face. He then grabbed the weights, leaned back, and began pumping his biceps. I gasped for air and managed to get less light headed enough to fully see. I look up and behold the sight of his bulging biceps getting meatier and redder with each rep. Slowly, the skin surrounding his muscle began glistening. “Yeah I see you staring,”he said,”you like that fucking view?” I nodded. “Say it.” “I like the view.” “Why do you like the view what’s so great about it?” “Your body,”I said. “What about my body?” “Your biceps, they’re…getting bigger, like a football.” “What else, faggot.” “Your chest, it’s nice and firm.” “Oh this?”he began to bounce his chest as he set the weights down on my back again. “You like that shit?” He smiled. “Yes sir, very much!” “Get up,”he ordered. He grabbed the weights and I immediately stood at attention. “Take these back to where they were and grab me the 80s.” I did so. I paced back nearly passing out in carrying these dumbbells. I grab the 80s one on each hand. DAMN. My arms feel like they’re about to fall out of their sockets because these shits are heavy as hell. “Yeah you’re struggling huh,”he chuckles,”look at this.” He grabbed the 80s off me and began to do hammer curls with ease at a steady pace. Each rep he looked at his biceps and grunted. Mesmerized by his pump, I stood there eyeing his biceps. “You see that,”he gestured to his left bicep as he kept pumping,”it’s getting bigger huh?” I nodded. “Go ahead,”he kept pumping,”feel that shit.” My jaw quivered. My legs started moving on their own, almost as if I was in a state of hypnosis. My arms levitated forward, reaching out for his bicep. Then. Skin to skin. Holy shit. “Hell yeah boy!” I cupped the football sized arms with both hands and felt hit firm skin growing against the palm of my hands. He set the dumbbells down and my hands remained on his bicep. “Watch this,”he said. He removed my hands from his bicep and rose his arm up to my face and began to bounce his bicep. “Wow,”I whispered. “Damn right wow,”he said,”isn’t that shit beautiful?” “Yes sir.” “Not many can do that.” I didn’t move my hands to touch it even though I deeply wanted to, I awaited for his approval. “You wanna taste it faggot?” Oh goodness… “Yes,”I pleaded. “We’ll have room for that later,”he said,”grab my phone for me faggot.” I reach for his cellphone that’s on the floor. “I want you to record this next workout and tell me how beautiful I am, got it?” “Yes sir!” He reached around the inclined bench and took on of the dumbbells with him. I held up the phone horizontally as he was checking his form through the mirror, I assume he was about to make concentrated curls. “Start recording,”he barked. I did so. “Get closer to my bicep.” I made sure to not block the lighting because as he slowly concentrated his curl, the vein on the side of his bicep began bulging, almost appearing like it’s about to bust…just like my cock in watching this all happen. “How great does that shit look?” “Amazing sir!” “You like how much my shit is growing faggot?” “Yes, very much sir?” “You like me getting nice and pumped and riled up for ya?” “Fuck yes sir!” “And are these the biggest biceps you have ever laid eyes on bitch?” “Yes sir, no other biceps that I see in this gym let alone in my life have ever amounted to the grandeur of your muscle.” “Atta boy,”he smirked,”you crave to suck on them don’t you?” “With everything in me sir!” “And you crave to please your alpha?” “Absolutely sir!” “Atta boy, why don’t you go ahead and give my bicep a nice slap?” I carefully made sure the camera captured my tiny hand slapping the mountain of a muscle this man carried on his arm. “Again.” I slapped. “Again.” I slapped. “Again, harder!” I slapped with everything in me. “Graagh!”he exclaimed,”atta boy, that shit feels good don’t it!” “Yes sir,”I beamed. “Stop recording faggot.” I did so. “Now, put the phone down and follow me here,”he nodded to the pull up bars. We walked over a few feet behind us where the joint cable rows and pull up area was. “Stand right there,”he pointed right bellow the pull up bar. “Now,”he continued,”what I’m gonna do for this last workout are supinated pull-ups, know what those are?” “The one’s that concentrate on your biceps?” “Atta boy,”he laughed,”you know that from all that time you spend gazing at others don’t you faggot?” “Well,”I admitted laughing. “Of course you do,”he continued,”now, I usually attach the weighted belt on me but since I knew I’d require assistance I left on my gym bag so, I’ll use you as my extra weight for today.” He gave me a knowing look as if he knew I’d love this. A devious smile formed on his face that exuded pure alpha dominance. “Now I’m gonna turn around,”he began,” and what I want you to do is to jump on my back and wrap your legs around my waist, your arms carried under my pits then have your hands locked at my shoulders, understood?” “Yes sir.” “No funny business,”he commanded,”I catch you trying to fondle me and I’ll let go of the bar and land my entire weight on you so fast you’ll crack a rib, understood faggot?” “Yes sir.” He stood facing away from me and I was facing his wide back. “Get to it faggot!” I climbed on top of him in one light jump and wrapped my legs around his waist, arms under his pits, hands locked behind his shoulders. “Well damn,”I said,”you’ll do just fine for this weight.” As soon as I was set, he breathed in and jumped with his hands held high, and caught the bar. Just like that, he began the pull ups. With each pull I leaned my ear on his back, hearing his thundering heartbeat, feeling the heat of his body, made full by the loud roar of each of his grunts. So much of this was turning me the fuck on. My crotch pressed against his ass working up and down assured my blood flow to head to the tip of my cock. “You like that shit faggot?”he barked,”I can feel you getting hard!” “Yes sir, this feels amazing!” “Yeah? Look at my arms you see that?” I look above me and holy shit! His biceps looked as if they tripled in size from the first workout. Each pull up only furthering the growth, droplets of sweat running down his shoulders. “Lick my sweat bitch!” I lathered up his shoulders with my tongue, catching drift of the sweat that was cascading down the mounds of muscle on his arm. “Fuck yeah,”he grunted,”lick my shit.” I kept devouring the glorious sweat that sparked my addiction to him. He landed on his feet as he finished. “I’m not even gonna finish this,”he caught his breath,”get off me.” I landed behind him, he turned around. “You got me all riled up boy,”he said as he grabbed the bulge in my pants,”and I see I’m having the same effect on you.” Gosh I felt like I was going to explode when he did that. “How’d I taste?”he asked. “Fucking delicious sir!” “Yeah,”he rubbed his fingers over his armpit and brought them to my mouth,”open up!” I let his gigantic calloused hand invade my mouth, dominating it. In one motion he slid his hand in and out. “That’s right,”he smiled,”take in all of my essence, all of my testosterone, all of my power, boy.” I began to suck on his fingers, i taking as much of his sweat as I could. “Oh shit,”he laughed,”you’re hungry for it aren’t you boy?” I nodded as I was busy sucking his hand. “There’s more where that came from,”he said with a cocky grin,”you want it?” I nodded. He pulled his hand out. “Follow me.”
  5. Guest

    Daddy's Boy

    Danny hung up the phone, propping his feet up on his desk as he turned to address the rest of the office. “Who’s the best salesman around?!” Most of them rolled their eyes. Thankfully, Jesse the intern knew how to play the game. “You are, Danny.” Danny nodded, chuckling. “Damn right I am, Jesse! Another customer, hook line and sinker!” More eye rolls. Of course Danny had scored another investor. All he had to do was mention dear Daddy’s name and they’d flock from miles. Danny, of course, attributed none of his success to his father’s far-reaching influence or fondness for his son. He merely thought his blond good looks, ravishingly athletic body and killer business instincts had shot him up the totem pole…even if the boy couldn’t talk himself out of a paper bag. But alas, the favoritism was alive and well, and no one could do anything about it. Chuckling to himself, Danny decided his work was done. Yeah, technically he still had the rest of his three hours to do, but he’d reeled in a big enough catch that he could go home. Who was gonna rat him out, anyway? “Yo, Jesse!” The smaller brunette turned, moving back to the toned man’s desk. “Yes, Mr. Howell?” He tapped his papers. Like he had time to finish the reports. That’s what free labor was for! “I’m going home. Make sure these get filed and finished, k?” Jesse nodded tiredly, all too used to the treatment. “Sure thing, Mr. Howell. Delivered to your father, management, or accounting?” But Danny was already out the door. “Figure it out, Jesse! Later!” The intern sighed wearily, tapping the sheets. “Same old, same old.” He looked down, brow furrowing as his lip curled. “Oy…which one does puce go to again?” Danny strutted down the street, quite pleased with himself. Head held high, he barely paid anyone any attention, so lost in his own ego. He was larger than the majority of people on the street, genetic lottery paying big dividends even now. He barely had to do a few pushups every night and he swelled proud and heavy in his shirts. He was damn proud of his height and stature, mistakenly believing his own perfection was the result of hard work or right choices. Such as it was, he relished in every lingering glance to his pecs and held his head a little higher every time another potential alpha walked by. So when the tall but relatively lanky boy passed close to him, nose in his phone, Danny couldn’t resist nudging him with his shoulder. Show the matchstick who the real size was around here. The boy looked up sharply, eyes flashing for the briefest of moments, even if it escaped Danny’s attention entirely. “My goodness, do excuse me, sir! Entirely my fault!” Danny smirked. That was more like it. “Let’s watch where we’re going, sport! Make way for the real man.” The flash returned as the boy let an involuntary smirk cross his impish features, fading to a dull, imperceptible glow in his irises. He clapped a hand to his chest, other hand tipping his bowler hat almost teasingly as he bowed forward slightly. “Of course, sir! Wouldn’t want to slow the, uh…path of the real man. Keep up that raw dominant alpha monstrosity!” Danny came back to reality with that. Might have been the change of tone, perhaps it was the use of a four-syllable word, or maybe it was the obvious teasing in that last comment. But as he opened his mouth and swelled his chest to give the scarecrow a piece of his mind, the boy had vanished. Danny swung his head left and right, but the boy had disappeared into the crowd. The light started blinking and Danny hurried to get to the other side of the street, but his brow furrowed. Little twerp. He was lucky Danny was in such a good mood! Shutting the door to his posh, quite extravagant house, Danny walked into the kitchen to fix himself a glass of something. Normally he’d fix himself some bourbon on the rocks, but he was feeling flushed for some reason, and figured he’d just grab some water. Plenty of time for liquor celebration later, when Dad called to congratulate him on his latest investor. Sitting down and releasing the pressure on his tie, Danny wiped his brow with his glass before taking a swig. Why was he so hot all of a sudden? He rubbed his pec idly, like all good hetero boys seem to do. To his complete surprise, he felt the chest muscle suddenly bloat outward in his hand. Whipping his head downward, Danny let his mouth fall open as he watched his pecs begin to pulse larger, fatter, heavier as he stared at them. Gasping in a joyous shock, he sprang to his feet, the motion making his enlarged pec muscles bounce gently. Grinning dumbly, he bounced again and again, watching each motion send a stronger pulse as his pecs continued to heave. Moaning happily, he flexed an arm teasingly, jaw dropping again as he watched his biceps swell gently. The arm bulge continued to bunch and round, heavy ball of muscle quickly forming from the toned flesh, stretching his dress shirt. Danny let out a chortle of delight, looking down at his now basketball-sized chest muscles. Everything was feeling tight, legs and ass pushing outward in his pants. Grunting in delight, Danny unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it back to watch his abs carve inward, bricks of muscle forming in his stomach. Frowning gently, he furrowed his brow as he rubbed hand over the rapidly growing hair forming on his abs. He’d always prided himself on his smoothness…still, if a treasure trail was the price he had to pay for these muscles, he’d totally pay it. Tracing its path up his stomach to his chest, he watched hair gently prickle across his pecs, nothing forest-y but certainly a fair dusting of stubbly hair! Feeling his ass really start to dig into the fabric of his pants, he decided to shuck his clothes to let his growing muscles breathe. Glancing down, peering over his ballooning pecs, he grinned as he watched his every muscle tone and firm before swelling to generous proportion. He shrugged as he watched the hair thicken on his legs and rear, fuzzy and dense as his pubes bushed outward as well. Worth it…he’d just get it waxed later anyway. His arms began to itch and he lifted them as he felt an odd tweaking under them. His armpit hair thickened and condensed, growing longer and longer. Biting his lip, he let his arms down, hoping to stifle the growth, but the straw colored pit hair just exploded around his torso, thick and bushy. It was gross to Danny, but…oddly, he didn’t mind too much. He couldn’t really remember why he thought it was so gross…in fact, he couldn’t remember much of anything! He just liked his muscles. Grinning dumbly, Danny popped his now-gargantuan pecs hungrily, licking his lips as he eyed his bulging, hairy body. Grunting gently as a tugging caught his attention, he tried to crane his neck to stare over his bulbous chest, but to no avail. But a quick fondling revealed a rapidly growing, thickening cock. Moaning in a bout of involuntary lust, Danny panted hotly, feeling his cock shove higher and fatter in his hand…now his hands, too big to be contained by one mitt. Tongue hanging as he felt his cock sandwich and swell into his ab groove, Danny panted and grunted in animalistic fashion, brain fogging with lust. As he tried to manage his view, he felt his cock spew slimy pre all over the copious underboob he was now sporting. Gasping in pleasure, he finally glimpsed his oozing cock, the head bobbing hypnotically beyond his pecs, drooling pre like a hose. As he eyed his throbbing dick, though, a new swelling caught his attention. His nipples were stiffening…and stiffening…and stiffening! God, they just got harder and harder, to the point where they were just growing! His nips pulsed wider and longer, hardening like diamond, finally settling at almost a half foot long! Gasping in dumb pleasure, Danny gave one a tentative tweak, actually collapsing to his knees with the sensation and ecstasy that blasted through him. He couldn’t help but tweak again, an odd and beautiful pressure building with every gentle twitch of his fingers. As it reached a fever pitch, he glanced down, expecting his cock to spew its load. But instead, a fine stream of milk pushed out of his erect nipple instead! Danny yelled in not-so-subtle delight, milking himself like a cow as he grasped his other nipple, blinding pleasure coursing through him as his pecs leaked cream. He bent forward, a sudden urge compelling him to hump the ground like a dog, nipples slamming into the floor as his cock pushed between his abs. He could feel something deep inside him…his transformation wasn’t over yet! As he continued to hump with more and more frenzy, he glanced back to find his muscular bubble butt pushing even further, widening oddly. Finally, he gasped as he watched his asshole pulse and throb lewdly out of his rear, puckering and swelling like a ring as a fat donut pushed its way out of his ass. Panting in pleasure, Danny kept up his vulgar performance, feeling his anus swell and plump even as he made a total mess on the floor, pre and milk making a sticky puddle around his torso. His climax was cut short by a violent and jarring vibration from his tortured pants. Fishing in the remains of his pocket, he pulled out his phone, looking at the flashing reminder: “Important! Give Jesse the Ava files!! Or Dad will get mad! Due in one hour!” Completely unaware of anything in that sentence but subconsciously knowing what to do, Danny gasped in a panic, trying to salvage his burst clothes. Realizing the lost cause, he went into his bedroom, tugging on his loosest clothes. His odd proportions proved disastrous, pecs and ass straining against the fabric while his cock arched right out of his waistline, unrelenting in its erectness as it pressed visibly against his shirt. Of course, all three were his most sensitive parts as of now. Shivering wildly in bliss, Danny watched his nipples shove and swell against the fabric, asshole slurping hungrily as it slimed up his underwear. Trembling, Danny reached into his shirt, actually managing to shove his cock right up into his cleavage. Instantly his cock began to ooze a river of pre, but it was stable and unnoticeable…for now. Biting his lip, Danny stumbled his way back to work, trying to avoid any unnecessary rubbing. He got a ton of stares…and a few nose wrinkles. Eventually Danny realized that he absolutely reeked! It was his pits, for sure! Those ridiculously hairy, potent bushy forests under his arms! Grimacing, but knowing he could do nothing at the moment, Danny forged bravely ahead. Arriving at the office for the second time that day, Danny tried to find Jesse, hoping to avoid anyone else. He knew who Jesse was, but he didn’t really remember much else about him, or his relationship to him. Just that he had to give him the Ava files! After dodging and ducking through cubicles like some video game level, Danny finally spotted the brunette, hands full of papers. Hissing under his breath, Danny caught his attention. “Jesse!” The intern whirled, spotting Danny in the cubicle. “Mr. Howell?” He lightly stepped into the cubicle, shutting the door (yes, these cubicles had doors. Fancy!) behind him. He turned back, eyes widening as his jaw dropped. “M-Mr. Howell?! What on earth happened?!” Danny tilted his head. “Huh? What do you mean?” Jesse gestured, mouth agape. “L-look at you, sir! Are you having an allergic reaction?” Danny opened his mouth to respond, but something didn’t sit right. Sir? Why was Jesse calling him that? A sudden pulsing of Danny’s cock sent a shudder through him, pitching him forward. Jesse’s hands went to instinctively help the larger male…and landed square on his burgeoning pecs. The impact sent milk streaming from Danny’s swollen nipples, and shot his cock right out of its safety within Danny’s man boobs. Jesse jerked back in horror, Danny moaning like a bitch in heat as he eyed the lovely younger man. “Y-you’re the sir…please…so horny…need release.” Jesse raised an eyebrow, glancing at the door. But in all honesty, he was a somewhat lonely 20-something gay man, and the prime specimen of man meat that had bullied him into service for months was now begging him to make him his bitch. It was too good to pass up. Jesse started to fondle and mold Danny’s chest, grinning as he watched the dumber man gasp and buck, milk streaming from his perky nipples. Pushing his luck, Jesse leaned in, hissing in the bulky man’s ear. “Who’s the big man around here?” Jesse squeezed hard to emphasize his point, and that was the end of the old Danny. His cock shoved right through a gap in his button-down, spewing his long pent-up load all over the cubicle as he moaned out. “You, sir! I’m your bitch boy, please!!” Jesse grinned, rubbing the bigger man’s chest cannons hungrily. “And you’re only mine, got it?” Danny nodded hard. “Yes, sir, of course! I promise to be your bitch, only yours!” Jesse giggled to himself, unused to any displays of dominance. This could be fun! Of course, Mr. Howell Senior would probably be none too pleased at this new development… but who was he to reprimand his precious little boy? Jesse tucked Danny’s cock back into his pec crevasse, tweaking his nipples to elicit a moan from Danny. “Come on…we gotta get those files sorted out. We’re almost late!” He beckoned, Danny following meekly behind. Opening the door, he almost plowed into a passing man. Blushing, Jesse raised his hands as he continued on his way. “Sorry, sorry!” The man tilted his bowler hat, eyes glinting as he grinned toothily at the massive rear departing from his vision, fat pucker sliming up the backside. “Not a worry, sirs! Do please enjoy this lovely day.” He chuckled to himself, whistling a merry tune as he sauntered out of the office.
  6. timovdrow

    Pose for us, Bull (short scene)

    I wrote this short-scene a while back as a caption for the following photo. When I wrote this (and other similar content), I was just diving deeper into bodybuilding and how it articulated with my muscle fetish, especially as it relates to domination and submission; and I really got into imagining my ideal D/S dynamic through this captions, informed by my conversations with different admirers/growers/doms at that time. But as with many things, I let it fall to wayside. It wasn't until this week that I started thinking more intentionally about this again. As I continue to work with my coach and enter a lean bulk, I want to draw from this side of my psychosexuality again to really push my limits day in and day out -- after all, bodybuilding is about consistent dedication and effort. But I didn't know where to pick things up again. So it was a happy coincidence when I came across a topic in the general section on the theme of "growth as submission" the same day I decided to browse some of my blog's older posts. This is a quick edit but if folks are receptive and interesting in the themes, styles, etc here, I would be very motivated to follow through with a longer project to dive deeper. The plan would be to explore the progression of this dynamic using the seven deadly sins as a framework. Anyway, anyway, here's Wonderwall (lol). ___ “Sir, must I really pose like this for your friends?” he asked with stink on his face. You'd just finished a group workout. Some pals from out of town wanted to get a quick sweat session in during their visit, so you suggested a local kickboxing class later that afternoon. You knew that this type of exercise wouldn’t enough for your bull – cardio with a little pump is all it was for him, – but you dragged him along anyway. Your friends would appreciate seeing him in action after all. They had ogled over him the time before, privately commenting to you about him in a fluster: “His arms are so big!” “You get to sleep on that chest at night? So lucky!!” “I wish my boyfriend looked that good.” This time around, you had the devilish idea of giving your lusty friends a show, having your bull go through the post-workout posing routine he usually performs in your bedroom. But, you were sure that your friends wouldn’t see the full scope of what this show meant. They were white-collar types more interested in having fun with a side of fitness. Spin or Crossfit classes and brunch white-collar types. So they'd probably see his posing routine as sensual at first -- and who could blame them. Big man in underwear. Simply groundbreaking. Eventually eyes will start to wander, missing the purpose behind each movement. More muscles? What's next. At least if you know your bull. He'll probably be shy and conservative, giving half-hearted flexes at the top of each pose. Amazing to most but practically limp in your eyes. But you’re prepared to push his boundaries today. “Yes I’m serious. Give us a taste of how you’ve been coming along, big guy,” you demand, taking a seat with the rest of your friends chatting in between sips of Gatorade. He gives a shy double-bi towards the mirror, displaying his 19” arms and robust shoulder-chest tie ins. His tank rides over his belly a good hand-width. Your friend Charlene glances over from her conversation and gives a short hoot, “Looking good!” You catch his eyes, glancing down at his torso and legs, his tank and shorts, and back to his face. You nod and mouth “off.” He grimaces and returns a pained expression; clearly he’d rather not. You mouth “off,” again, knitting your eye brows sternly. Begrudging, Bull begins to pull his shorts down and toss them to his side, the tank following. That left him in just your favorite pair of white briefs, nearly every inch of his growing body exposed to strangers. “He’s going to be preparing for a show, guys, so I think it’s best to have get into the spirit.” The rest of your friends turn to look at the curated specimen in front of them. It was hard not too – without the oversized shirt and basketball shorts, his enhanced development was more than evident. You both had been working diligently to thicken up a lot more before dieting down for his contest, putting extra effort into piling more meat onto those delts and traps. You both wanted a bull with a neck worthy of a yoke. Taking a deep breath, he began anew, locking eye contact with you and only you. He hit pose after pose, never breaking sight despite comments being thrown around: “He’s definitely gotten bigger!” "Oh my god, he must eat for an entire family." "That's kinda cool, I guess." He hit a most muscular as his finisher, bringing in his arms tight over his torso and showcasing the fibers and new vascularity over his shoulders and traps – you both noticed that they had begun to swallow up his neck in the last few weeks, especially in this position. “More,” you mouth. He brings his arms in closer, bulging his traps out higher. “More,” you mouth again. His fists clench harder; his eyes begin to glaze over, and you notice his entire body pulse as he brings his muscles to contract even harder. Just for you. He’s beginning to shake from the effort, small veins snaking higher and higher across his chest and neck. You know what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling. He’s been there before with you: I’m a growing muscle bull, growing bigger and bigger because I need to. Let me show you, sir. Let me show you how big I want to be. Please. “And that’s the end!” you say to your friends, motioning to your bull to stop and get dressed. His eyes widen and cheeks redden, immediately turning around to grab his clothes. Scanning their faces, your initial prediction was correct: they don’t get it. Some were looking at their phones; one gave a fake smile, and another continued to look at him with contorted confusion on his face. “He really looked kind of scary for a second,” one whispers to you. Your bull notices this, throwing you a desperate glance. “We’re planning to come in about 10lbs heavier next year too! Maybe 15 of lean muscle, if we work harder.” “Don’t you think that’s too big?” another asks. Your bull approaches the group, half-dressed and drenched in more sweat after his posing; he looks at you, eyes wide with anticipation for how you’re about to respond. “No. I want him bigger. And he likes that too,” you say boldly, giving his shoulder a tight squeeze. Your fingers can’t dig into his meaty delts anymore; they’re harder than before. He reflexively tights his shoulders even more, pushing your fingers out. His cheeks are fiery red. Is that a little guilt you feel? Bull turns to you, your friends, and back to you, speaking through a quivering but excited voice, “Yeah, he’s right. It’s almost an addiction, but better bodybuilding than smoking.” No, that's pride. __________ “You know that once you hit 240, you’re gonna get more comments like that,” you say. He puts down a shaker bottle full of protein and all sorts of supplements alien to you, responding, “yeah, but I’ll get used to it. My current physique is on the edge of sensibility, but posing for them all today and…losing myself…it felt amazing.” “Because your routine was on point?” “No, because I felt like I didn’t care. I was posing for you, even when you pushed me further and I freaked out your girlfriends,” he murmured looking down at his feet. He sighed, throwing a slight smile at you and finishing the rest of his protein shake. “Though to be honest, I think they were busier looking at your boner than my poses towards the end.”
  7. LJackson

    MaxandharryandmaX: A serial (?)

    Okay, here's the start of something new. Let me know if you want me to carry on! What you need to understand is that Harry and I had been friends all our lives, or nearly. When we were in playgroup, I chewed on his toy car. When we went to school together, we taught one another to read. If a teacher asked me what my name was, I’d say: “Max and Harry.” For years, right up till we went to university, people would call us Maxandharry or Harryandmax. Even at Uni, him studying Biological Sciences and me doing Business Studies, we texted nearly every day. For a while, after celebrating our Friendversary, we even changed our Faceboook names to MaxandharryandharryandmaX, till he pointed out it looked a bit gay. I felt a bit sad changing it, but my girlfriend of the time told me he was right. In the years since then, of course, we drifted apart a bit. We were both in London but we would only meet for a drink every couple of months. I guess he slowly started noticing a change in me about summer 2019 when I had made a special effort to get #BeachBodyReady. ‘Shit, mate, you really do have a gym membership, don’t you?’ he said. ‘When are Men’s Health ringing you for a cover feature?’ I was in a short sleeved shirt and I was feeling pretty good about myself back then, but still I knew he was talking shit. ‘Bro, have you seen the guys on Love Island? All I’ve done so far is lose a bit weight really.’ ‘Impressive though,’ he said, sinking the last of his pint. ‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘Not yet.’ ‘Well, I reckon Niamh would think so,’ he said. I cuffed his shoulder. ‘She’s not superficial like other ho’s,’ I said. ‘Girls like that sort of thing, though,’ he said. He looked down at himself. ‘They can’t help themselves.’ ‘They like to see we’re taking care of ourselves,’ I told him. ‘Anyway, you’re far from overweight, dude.’ ‘Underweight, if anything,’ he said. ‘I do my heavy lifting with this.’ He tapped his brow, and we both laughed. ‘Mind you don’t go impairing it with two many hipster beers, then,’ I said, getting up to fetch another round. ‘If you promise not to go crazy with this gym stuff,’ he said. ‘You’re fine as you are.’ But I knew he was wrong. By the time we met to toast Christmas, he couldn’t resist squeezing my arm. ‘Holy shit!’ he said, eyes wide. ‘I thought you just had a big jumper on under that coat. You’re huge!’ ‘Not as big as I’d like,’ I couldn’t help saying, blushing. ‘Still a way to go.’ ‘What do you weight though…?’ ‘About 70kg,’ I said, automatically. ‘Roughly 150lbs.’ ‘Whoa,’ he said, ‘I didn’t expect you to actually know. You must be taking this seriously.’ I shrugged. ‘It’s fun too.’ ‘Bet you’re not drinking tonight.’ ‘Maybe just the one. My body fat’s down to 7%.’ I sipped my orange juice. ‘It feels great, though. I’m so alive, so capable. And, bro, let me tell you, the girls are hanging round me like flies around shit.’ God, it felt good.. Harry didn’t seem to feel so, though. ‘Mate, I didn’t need to have another reason to feel inferior,’ he sighed. His mouth was proper down-turned. ‘Niamh,’ I said, testingly. He nodded glumly. ‘I wasn't enough for her, it seems.’ ‘You were too good for her, anyway,’ I said, although I wasn’t sure how true it was. There he sat, a weedy little guy with glasses, maybe half my size. He couldn’t have lifted a weight above his head, let alone bench-pressed what I was doing. He looked pretty pathetic. ‘Maybe you should join my gym. Just to cheer yourself up.’ ‘Can’t think of anything worse,’ he said. ‘Come off it, mate,’ I said. ‘Build a bit of muscle and you’ll feel amazing. Imagine if Niamh sees you on the beach next summer with your shirt off, biceps bulging, pecs rippling…’ I tailed off, thinking how ridiculous this sounded. Even if I could persuade him to take some exercise, I thought, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for him to take his shirt off on camera. He was still as lean and hairless as when we both set off for University. I wondered, was I naturally superior to him? Niamh would certainly have picked me over him for a mate: law of the jungle. I’ve have shown her a better time, as well. I didn’t like to think how embarrassing Harry must have been in bed. I shook my head to clear it. Harry had been talking to me and all the time I’d been thinking about banging his girlfriend, cucking him in his own bed. Crazy thinking. I interrupted him: ‘I don’t want to hear any shit, mate, you’re coming with me to the gym tomorrow and that’s that.’ He sat back in surprise, held up his hands. ‘Fine. Fine!’ There was a long pause. Finally he laughed and got up to go to the bar. ‘Better get a round in while I’m still allowed, then!’ ‘Skip the crisps this time, okay,’ I laughed back. ‘2020’s going to be your year.’ And to be fair to him, he turned up. He obeyed me, as if I was in control of him. He did the exercises I told him to do. He changed his diet. It became quite fun, turning up to see him at the gym – maybe not as often as I would be there, but at least a couple of times a week. He didn’t enjoy it but he worked hard. At the end of January, he had actually lost a bit of weight – but sadly, he hadn’t put on a single shred of muscle. We stood looking at one another in the mirror. ‘I can’t fucking believe it,’ he said. ‘I’m actually smaller than before.’ ‘I’ve just grown bigger,’ I said, ‘that’s all, mate.’ ‘Bullshit,’ he said. ‘Yes, you’re bigger but look at me. I’m a shrimp. Nobody would guess we were the same age.’ ‘You’re a week younger,’ I told him, shrugging off my sweaty vest. ‘Maybe you’ll always be…’ Again, I didn’t want to say the truth. ‘What?’ he demanded. ‘What were you going to say? Weaker? Smaller? Inferior?’ ‘But only to me,’ I told him. ‘You might put on some muscle by summer. You won’t be strong but you’ll be fit.’ ‘That’s really what you think of me,’ he said, eyes wide. Furious. He looked like he wanted to pick a fight with me, but something rational was stopping him. He’d be mullered in a second. Instead, he ran away. Just grabbed his bag and stormed out. I should have run after him, but I was meeting this girl for dinner. He had told me on Tinder that she wanted me to fuck her like an animal, and I was still wondering how best to do that. I was too distracted. That was half my trouble. MaxandharryandharryandmaX was in trouble for the first time in history. An unshakeable bond, broken by the gym. Or maybe more, I thought. Maybe by masculinity and testosterone. Maybe by alpha male power. It could never be equal again now that I had begun to dominate. February slipped past, and I thought about him every day. I dreamt about him. I dreamt he was watching while I effortlessly fucked Niamh. I was pumped and bigger than ever while I worked at her tight snatch, and he got smaller while he watched me. In March, I finally sent him a message. ‘Miss lifting weights with you. Miss lifting pints even more.’ He replied almost straight away. ‘Maybe we should resume one of those activities. Guess which one.’ ‘Gym’s open longer hours,’ I replied, with a emoji to show I wasn’t serious. ‘Mate,’ he texted back, ‘I wouldn’t go there right now.’ ‘Why?’ I asked, expecting a joke. And so, Harry was the first person to tell me about coronavirus. I thought it was just him making an excuse about not exercising. I don’t follow the news, don’t really do social media; in fact, I was pretty buried in work and working out. I suppose, I also didn’t want it to be true. I was in full denial. And so, inevitably, I caught it. I’m strong. I’m healthy. I don’t even take roids, so no strain on my heart. So I guess I was well prepared for it. Even so, it knocked me out for longer than I expected. Those were some crazy weeks. Maybe the weeks that followed were even stranger. Apart from work, Harry was the main person I was in contact with during lockdown. At first we talked a bit about fitness: my gym had closed. I tried to buy gym equipment online, but there was none available. ‘I must have got the last set,’ Harry told me. He told me it was the one good thing in his life now. It was hard for him - he was still so weak - so I sent him tips over email, links to videos and online advice. He asked me questions about diets and supplements and steroids. I told him to do it all clean, which disappointed him, being the biology scientist – he wanted to make himself into his own experiment. But it was a good thing. It was like we were the same person after all, just slightly out of phase. Except I couldn’t work out, not properly. I did some bodyweight stuff and started running. The muscle just melted away. I ended up looking as lean as a stick of celery. ‘You’re going to end up as my trainer,’ he said, when we talked about it. I didn’t like that. What if he caught me up? So we didn’t talk about it. And the lockdown rolled by. The lockdown was raised. Life began to return to normal. It was September when we arranged to meet again. A few drinks in the same old pub we used to frequent – but first, we would work out together, side by side. It struck me, as I walked towards the bench press: we were equals at last. MaxandharryandharryandmaX had been brought closer together by the quarantine. We had both realised something: his innate power, my humility. At last, we would be best friends once again. The only problem was, he didn’t appear to have showed up. The gym was pretty much empty, and the only person hanging around our agreed meeting spot was a big guy. Proper monster. Shaved head. Lats out to here, waist in here, a real triangle. He looked nearly a foot taller than me and I was worried for a second. In an empty gym, it’s pretty bad etiquette to stand waiting for a piece of equipment. I didn’t want him to think I was trying anything on; he could have ripped me apart. He turned around and the light glinted off his glasses. He smiled. ‘Hey, Max, you made it!’ ‘Harry?!’ I couldn’t believe it. I thought it was a wind-up. He opened his arms inviting me for a hug. Each arm was as big as both of mine put together. The muscle was thick and pumped as if he had just completed a workout, not spent months in quarantine. ‘Harry,’ I said, looking up at him. ‘This is insane. You’re a fucking beast.’ ‘I used the lockdown well,’ he said seriously. His voice had grown deeper. It was like talking to a different man with my friend’s face, one who towered over me. ‘All this came from working out?’ ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I see you went the other way.’ I looked down at myself, blushing. ‘Yes, I’m pretty small these days.’ ‘How big were you before the lockdown?’ he asked me. ‘Let’s not talk about it,’ I said. ‘Maybe we should –’ ‘Cut the crap,’ he said. ‘I asked you a question.’ ‘About 75kg,’ I told him. ‘165lbs.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘You used to seem so big,’ he said. He ran his hands over the huge globes of his chest and the hard, thick ripples of his abdominals, lightly brushing his fingers across the giant vascular boulders of his biceps and the vast shoulder-muscles that framed his firm chin. ‘I’m about 270lbs. 125kg.’ ‘It’s not possible,’ I said. ‘Feel it,’ he said. ‘Then you’ll know how possible it is.’ I laughed and held up my hands. ‘That’s fine, I’ll believe you.’ ‘What is the problem with you?’ he said. He didn’t raise his voice but the authority was clear. ‘I told you to feel it, you little bitch.’ ‘Are you okay?’ I asked him. He shook his head for a second. ‘Sorry, bro. It’s the testosterone. Sometimes I lose control. I mean, it’s true that you’re little. And you’re being a bitch.’ He put a hand over his mouth and blushed. The redness spread down his huge neck where it got lost at the tops of his pecs. ‘Jesus. Just bants, mate. Just bants!’ ‘Will it help you if I – if I feel your muscle?’ I said, putting my hands on his physique. ‘Be careful,’ he said. ‘I’m like a loaded gun nowadays.’ ‘More like a cannon,’ I said, feeling his might. ‘The Incredible Hulk has nothing on you. So you went for the steroids after all?’ ‘No way, you little cunt,’ he said, breathing heavily. ‘Ah, I’m sorry, Max. But no – not steroids, exactly. I did some research. With some friends online. Other biology academics into weightlifting. I was looking for short cuts, and they were looking for ways to build size and strength. I think between us we tapped into something that did both. Workouts combined with certain hormones and particular herbs. It’s all perfectly safe, just a few side-effects.’ ‘Like the anger management issues,’ I suggested. ‘And all this fur.’ I ran a hand through the pelt on his monstrous chest. ‘You really are becoming a beast.’ ‘Fuck!’ he gasped. ‘You touched it! I should have warned you – but I thought it would sound gay.’ ‘Touched what?’ I snatched my hand away but he caught it in a giant fist. ‘You touched my nipple. Fucking sensitive nowadays.’ ‘So what – what does that mean?’ ‘It means,’ he said, ‘either I need to fuck a woman in the next ten minutes or…’ ‘Or what?’ Harry looked toward the changing room door. ‘Or, old friend, you’ll have to milk the cum from my big swinging balls…’ TO BE CONTINUED…
  8. Motobrostud

    Just a piece of a fantasy

    I’ve never posted any writings. I usually keep it private between a guy I’m fantasizing with. Mostly cause it’s personal worship passion that I’m writing with someone else and we just keep the story going between our personal chats. But this one in particular I find really hot and wondered what anyone else might think. There’s about 300 passages prior to this one so it’s literally right in the middle of us getting to know each other but I don’t think it needs a preface. Just use your imagination like I have.... ....I immediately scurry to my knees, place my hands on your round, rippled rock hard shoulders, with all the strength I can muster I lift myself on to you , wrap my legs around your hips and hold myself up on your massive frame. Not once did you waver not once did you move, you stand like a man made of titanium, the smirk on your lips tells me you don’t even feel the weight I’ve just put on you. My dick is hard, standing like a tower between our ripped abs. Oozing precum which hasn’t stopped since we left the gym. *I think back to when you drove us home, as I watch you shift the gears and the ripples in your forearm and the way your hands have made impressions in the steering wheel that is no longer round, the strength you now possess. When my precum started to flow again, feeling my shorts getting wet with precum* You see the glazed look in my eyes, wrap your hands around my waist touching your thumbs in the front and your fingers in the back, pluck me from your body, like a peach from a tree, and throw me across the room to wake me from my memory. I realize what I’ve done and crawl my way back to you. I grab your right thigh and massage it to the best of my ability, my fingers can’t even dent your skin and you’re completely relaxed. I fill my hand with precum and rub it on your skin. Using my fingers to get into the crevice your muscles make on your legs. I stroke your hamstrings which bulge so far out it stretches the pecs I had just worked earlier. I begin to lick your thigh cleaning all my juice from it. I look up just momentarily and you smack my head down and tell me to concentrate on my work and I do. I love how you manhandle me so much that I think of looking up again but then I’d be taken away from my Bulls body so I continue working. I do the same to the other leg. Kissing and licking it, rubbing it with my juice then cleaning it. I kneel behind you, fill both my hands with my precum and start working both your glutes. One butt cheek is wider than my hand. I can engulf a basketball in my hand and reduce it to nothing but I cannot dent your skin here either. Your enormous. Your skin is hot almost too hot but I will not take my hand away. Touching you is worth all the pain. I lick your ass every inch that my tongue can find. I spread your cheeks hoping to find your sweet hole, I bury my face deeper searching and just as I find it there’s a sudden ripple I feel in your cheeks where my hands lay and I’ve found your sweet spot. I spit on your hole and lick it like my life depends on it. No fingers, you wouldn’t allow that but I do everything I can think of with my tongue to feel you shudder at the ecstasy I can give you. I reach around to your front and stroke your giant cock, my hand can almost encompass. You’re also precumming. I lick my hand clean of my own precum and soak it with yours. Stroking your cock with only your alpha preseed, at the same time as I’m stroking your cock I can almost reach your enormous swollen balls with my other hand. I push my face deeper hoping to be able to create enough length to reach your balls but it’s not enough. You’re just too big. I stroke your dick once more than release and continue worshipping what I can from behind. I practically eat my hand trying to savor all your precum from my hand but even your precum absorbs into my skin too quickly. I feel my hand on fire from the alpha seed entering my blood stream and I feel stronger just for a moment as my insides fight to get as much of your seed as it can feed on. I soak my hands in more of my precum and soak your back in as much as I can but your so massive I need 3 or 4 handfuls to get it to cover your back. As I work your muscles I see you slowly put your hands at your waist and preemptively get more precum as I do I see your back getting wider the rest of the room disappears as your lats spread wider and wider. I continue slathering precum on your back 10, 14, 22 handfuls to cover your back. I work meticulously as I hear your grumbling laughter. You’re soaked in my precum but it doesn’t drip it stays put. There’s just enough to cover your back. Prolly a gallon of precum and it’s just enough to cover your back. As I begin to lick it off you I reach around to the front and my hands can feel your belly button but as I raise my hands up your trunk I no longer can touch my hands. I get to your chest and am grateful I can still reach each nipple with each hand but just barely. I need to grow more. I get more precum from my dick which is bouncing in excitement spurting precum all over your strong clean legs. I place my finger tips on your nipples and squeeze, tease and pinch them. I hear your grumble which shakes me to my core as I’m wrapping myself around you. You groan n your head lifts. My dick is so excited it rises in between your thighs till it’s blocked by your enormous balls. It just bounces off your huge nuts which now makes your cock rise and fall. As your cock meets mine I feel it like a steel girder, it hurts but it hurts so good. And though I cant see it I know somewhere our precum is mixing making my growth serum. I bring my hands back to your shoulders and again lift my body onto yours so I can reach your traps with my tongue. I’m off the floor a good 4 feet at your hips. I reach one arm under your armpit to your chest and the other over your shoulder around your throat. I kiss and worship you shoulders and traps. Licking everywhere I can reach nibbling with my teeth not even leaving a mark cause nothing can mar your skin, not even a knife. Many have died trying. You raise your arms and I start to lick and kiss them. I do everything I can to slather the both but there’s so much space to cover and if I let go I’ll fall and if I grab for more precum I will also fall so I continue licking you and kissing the best I can, for you are my Alpha Muscle God. My Bull. Your arms begin to bend your biceps relaxed are the size of mine flexed but as your arm bends it grows. Your toying with me you’re just bending your arm not even flexing yet. It looks as though you’re doing a most muscular but your right hand is reaching towards the back of your neck, but then I feel your hand encompassing my head, I frantically think of what I’ve missed in a split second your hand reaches around my throat and I am removed from your back and held in mid air staring at the opposite wall in just your one hand. You bend your arm and place me on your chest, where I cling to you like a magnet. I feel your enormous Bull cock between my ass cheeks and it’s slippery. I place my shins on your hips and kneel there, you look at your bicep as do I and we watch it. Your arm is bent but hasn’t started flexing I feel it I put my hand on top of the peak cause it’s too big for my hand any other way. It’s hot, burning I squeeze it and it almost feels as it will give and then it starts to harden. I feel a rise in my body temperature as your arm hardens. The tricep underneath gets ridged I see all the fibers start to crystallize under your skin. Your bicep is getting harder and rises higher towards your fist. Your fist alone is the size of my head, your bicep continues to harden and rise, I try to look at you but the grip on my throat keeps my face glued to your arm. Like a lightning bolt throughout my entire body, my dick shoots it’s enormous wad, spattering the wall behind you, my gallons of cum, cover the wall, the chest of drawers and the pictures on the wall. Finally the fibers harden and your bicep is fully grown, hard as a rock and my hand is feeling the muscle of my titan God. My body weakens as I slip a little. You release my throat my eyes cannot move. I’ve slipped off your body but I’m hanging from you like a monkey in a tree, a grand tree, as I swing, you stand holding your pose, you don’t budge you again don’t sway. Respectfully I ask if I can measure it, you nod with a grumble that not only shakes me but the pictures on the wall, that fall doused in my cum. I swiftly disengage my kneeling on you and scurry to your gym bag and find your tape. I come back head bowed reach up but I cannot reach so you crunch your abs, the brick wall of your core till your bicep is in my direct eye line. I wrap the tape around your arm pull out more tape cause there’s not enough slack at 30” like before. I press the release on the tape measure and the slack get sucked into the box and I reposition it at the widest part and we both gasp in your new size 31.75”. Your muscles have grown?! Your laughter fills the room, the windows shake from the reverberation of your throat. Ripples appear in the cum soaked wall as droplets drip to the wood floor and splatter in all directions. You grab my traps and push me to the floor and then you grab my head standing erect but still flexing your arm and place my face directly in front of your colossus dick then as you release my head you strike a double bicep pose. As you do I attack your cock with whatever I can. I stroke you with both my hands, I ravenously suck your head and as much as I can fit in my mouth. I suck you deeper and deeper til I’m gagging on all I can handle, you’re 7” inches into my mouth and throat, but it’s not enough I want more. I squeeze with both my hands wrapped around the base of your cock and your dick pumps full of blood and I get 2 more inches in, my eyes are watering, I feel my nose dripping. My throat is full of your cock but it’s still not enough. I want all of you in me more than I can handle. I want it all. I stroke your cock as I’ve noticed your standing with your massive arms folded with a smirk on your face. Knowing if I can’t get all your cock in me then you’ll do it for me but I can do it Bull. I can do it all. I stroke your cock till it’s hard as a steel pipe I grab your nuts pulling them down and back till your cock is aiming straight at my throat. I open as wide as I can and like a high speed train into a tunnel I gouge my throat with your enormous cock, I gag and I choke but it’s worth it I continue pushing my face forward hitting and blasting through every barrier my throat has, then it happens. I feel my nose hit solidly on your pelvic bone. I hold for a second then with a will only I can produce I rock forwards and backwards stroking your massive cock with my throat. I feel your hands on the back of my head but you don’t have to push me more. You’re cradling my head in your hands. My proud Bull. I continue stroking. Pulling and massaging your nuts, then reaching up and feeling your gargantuan chest. Taking handfuls of pecs. I begin to feel your dick swelling, I go back to massaging your balls, the tension on my neck grows I can feel your hands holding my mouth in place your filling my insides with precum, you’re beginning to thump my throat with your your growing cock. Tears of adoration streaming down my face I look up to your eyes and see a smile but a meniacle smile widening on your face. But your eyes are soft, you’re proud of your submissive beast. The man that gave you your new found power. The ultimate worshipper. Our eyes lock in a passionate gaze. Your cock begins to pulse and pump then I feel great pressure on my throat as it widens to accept all of you, I can feel the head of your cock underneath my sternum swelling and getting ridged and harder then I feel it your dick is pounding my esophagus and stomach with your plentiful seed. I feel my belly distending, filling with my Bulls monstrous seed. Being planted deep within me. Slowly you begin to pull your cock from my throat, it feels like your cock is peeling the inside of my throat inside out the further to my lips as it gets. But its alright. I love the feeling. My God cannot hurt me but I love the feeling you give me. As your dick is released from the confines of my throat, my God lifts me up, I cling to your chest and kiss you, I can feel your body jolting each time a jet of cum sprays from your cock. I love you more everyday is what my kiss says. You’re kissing me like you haven’t before, it’s soft but strong, it’s kind but powerful, it’s careful but encompassing. You hold me not like a submissive but a lover. I stroke your hair through it’s sweaty natural curves I feel your back hard and hot. You turn around and sit on the bed, you lay outstretched, me on top of you, I lift myself up, place a knee next to your sides. I kiss your chest and worship you. You’re rubbing my arms, small compared to yours but big compared to all else. I feel your cock on my ass bouncing between my cheeks. I flatten my body onto yours and hug you under your armpits, knowing if I hold on above your armpits you’ll pound me off your cock n I want you deep in me for as long as you’ll allow. I can feel your fingers gripping the sides of my hole opening me and stretching me. Your cock is hard still but precumming, I can feel I’m open wide your fingers can slide in n out if me but the friction is giving me full body chills, it tickles but makes my toes curls. I grab onto whatever I can. I reach up under your arms and latch onto your shoulders and squeeze with my knees like riding a horse. I feel your cock pushing on my hole. Pounding me to open up for you, then like a rubber band my hole snaps open as you drive your enormous cock inside of me I feel every inch being rammed into my hole. In my mind all I can think is how much I love my Bull, my MuscleGod. The worlds Alpha. My Man.
  9. Travis

    Invictus

    This is perhaps a monologue, or short play with one speaking part and others nonspeaking, rather than a story, so I hope it's not out of place. It was inspired by a work by the artist MSSF, which is at the end. i INVICTUS: or, The Captive Aside, to himself: My mind is mine and never will be his. Then, speaking aloud: I am your captive. My life and my body are yours. Beat me. Torture me. But enslave me not, nor keep me idle in a dungeon deep. Hasten my life to its end. Make of me with knives your complete sacrifice. Again to himself: Thus will my last moments pass quietly in my mind, for I will know that my end comes soon. When it does, I will have freedom, freedom from this mortal body which he defeated in battle, freedom from the shame of defeat before my warriors, my men, my sons. Aloud: Yet with your knives, take special care before you stab and slice my mortal flesh. Make sharp your sweet steel and as you carve and sever keep fresh your blades that you may cleanly cut and my blood may quickly flow. Limit not the artifice of your craft, but fulsomely display your handwork. Create thus a pleasing sight for your eyes, but not for your eyes only. A worthy deed well done must be seen. Issue a summons. Bring forth your high priest and his acolytes. Call forth your sons who must with their own true eyes bear witness that they may know, not by the poetizing of your scribe, but by their own beholding, the savage beauty as their father draws death from life and my unworthy body, flayed and bled, expires to a corpse. Again to himself: His look is fierce and keen, but still unquenched. And now aloud: I see and all here now assembled see your risen cock, and mine. Your manhood rises in triumph. Mine rises to honor your victory. Yet among the assembled, whisperers pass judgment that your captive flaunts his member in defiance. To quell them, command my final ejaculation. Order a show. For in my tribe, as high priests and consuls attest, the jizzum of their warrior-prince possesses potent magic. Nothing in alchemy surpasses it. Indeed, my very sons have supped on it, that they may be strong and valorous. To honor your manhood, command the last surge of my seed. From my risen cock, engender a fountain of virility. Provoke my testicles in their sack. Rouse my idle semen and incite my hoary balls to issue yet more sperm, as you do, and pull and stretch my scrotum, and slice it off. Take with it those two jewels which men so admire and praise. That kind action of yours will make my manhood prouder still, and in its pride, it will bring forth for you my rapturous final ejaculation. No further touch will be necessary. But have your chest ready that my unctuous jizzum may splurge there as my tribute. And have your sons at hand that they may lap at your nips, not as pups, but as men. For in my seed, there is that powerful magic of which I spoke, and which will make them brave and strong. Thus will they make battle victorious against my own sons, for your sons will have the power of your seed and my seed against my puny sons who have but the power of their own father’s seed. Sotto voce, and turning his head slightly: Scribe, if you hear this tale, write it as I tell it. But know yourself, and in confidence tell two or three wise poets, that my conquerer is a gullible and foolish man who puts faith in such magical potions and tall tales as educated men long ago put aside. I know his weakness in this, as in blood and in lust. Thus, even in defeat, I prevail over him, and in this way, abrupt and savage, I make a quick end for myself. Aloud again: When I have thus anointed you, then slice again. Slice off my shaft, which even then will stand erect in your honor. Display my defeat. My cock is your scepter. Then vanquish me as you and your sons, splurge your cum on your bloody trophies. The deeds being done, the captive dies. art by MSSF
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