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Found 92 results

  1. Herald

    The locker room loser

    Inspired by a story I've read recently, a short story found its way from my pen to this board. Enjoy! Keith strutted into the deserted gym next to Orchid University. He loved working out late at night, jumping to whatever exercise he felt doing and not having to wait at any of the machines. Not that other guys made him wait. His 6'3 and 242 pound frame not only earned him success on the football field, it also intimidated anyone that got in his way. Not to mention the attention of the girls… He continued past the deserted counter and entered the locker room. He put his bag on a bench and began getting out his shake and towel. "Hi, Keith". The faint voice made Keith turn around and he stared down at the skinny guy that had just entered. He recognized Tyrone, some skinny freshman who worked in the gym. He nodded and returned to his stuff. "What are you training tonight?", the little guy asked, "Or just a quick workout for football?". Great. A talker, just what I need. Why do guys that wanna talk don't go to bars?, Keith thought as he tried to ignore the guy. "Not in a mood to talk? Focused on training, he?", Tyrone went on. Keith turned to face the guy with an annoyed look on his face. He noticed how the shirt hung like a tent on the freshman's pathetic body and how his shorts covered his legs almost completely. He unzipped his hoody and took it off, revealing his heavily muscled torso highlighted by his skintight tank top. Tyrone gulped at the sight of the round shoulders that stuck out like bowling balls to support the thick arms. A smug grin formed on Keith's face at the small guy's reaction. "Training builds muscle. Ya should try it", he said and casually bounced his pecs. "Tough guy, he", Tyrone replied, "Want to test your strength?". He motioned to a weird machine placed at the end of the row of lockers. It was some old-looking grip strength tester. It had an electronic display in the center and below there were four metal handles. "Ya want to go up against me? In a test of strength?", Keith asked laughingly and throw a double bicep pose. His meaty arms swelled to their 20 inches of muscle covered with some fat. "Just for fun", Tyrone said without taking his eyes from the orbs atop the large guy's arms as he moved to the machine. Keith shook his head incredulously and stepped over to the machine, completely dwarfing the freshman. They both grabbed hold of two handles. "Who's the alpha and who's the beta?" The display read off as it sprang to life. "I'll go first", Tyrone said and squeezed the handles with all his might. His 120 body shook and his face turned red from the effort. "POWERHOUSE", the display said. Keith followed. He gripped the handles firmly and clenched his thick fist, his body barely feeling the effort. "POWERHOUSE", the display said, "TIE!" "Seems like were matched", Tyrone peeped, "Let's try again". He repeated his earlier movement, getting another 'POWERHOUSE' reading. Keith couldn't believe this pathetic guy was matching his power. His competitive nature took over and he pressed the handles again. "MUSCLE MAN", the display showed, "Advantage to player one! Next round!". "Not so tough after all, it seems", Tyrone said and continued the game to get another "POWERHOUSE" reading. "What the fuck?!", Keith boomed, "This game is rigged". He summoned his strength, his knuckles turning white as he grabbed the handles. "MANLY", the display showed. Black dots danced shortly before Keith's eyes and a shiver traveled down his spine as he read off the text. "How…", he began and the other words died in his throat as he looked down at his body. His torso no longer strained his tank top. The fabric now sat more loosely around his somehow diminished muscles. He didn't stand out like the heavily muscled guy he used to be, but looked more like someone who worked out regularly. He glanced aside and noticed the other change: the once skinny Tyrone was now filling out the shirt that hung on him like a tent minutes earlier. The guy could now easily pass for a model. "My turn again", Tyrone said in a deepened voice. "No. I give", Keith said and tried releasing the handles but his paws seemed somehow fused to them. "We have to continue the game until there's an alpha", Tyrone said and applied his strength to the handles. "POWERHOUSE!", the display said. Keith gulped as he saw a jolt shoot through the freshman's body. He reluctantly copied his opponent's grab, noticing how the handles seemed to resist. He stared in disbelief at the display as it read "Mr. PUNY". Tyrone looked aside and saw more mass disappear from the football player's body. Their bodies were pretty evenly matched now. "Oh yeah", he grunted as he felt the energy flowing through the handles into his growing body. He grabbed the handles again, now easily pressing into the metal. "POWERHOUSE!!" "Why are there exclamation marks on it?", Keith asked in his weakened voice while he saw another jolt of growth shoot through the now pumped up fitness model-sized freshman that began looking bigger than him. "There's more power in my body now", Tyrone replied in a baritone voice, "your turn". "Do I have to?", Keith muttered. "DO IT!", Tyrone boomed. Keith shook and instinctively obeyed the bigger man. His body shook with effort and his face turned beat red. "WEAKLING" Keith felt another wave of weakness dance through him. His once skintight tank top now hung loosely from his diminished frame. He felt his sweatpants slide down along his thinning legs. He looked down and saw that he had lost every ounce of muscle he'd ever gained. The movement next to him caught his eye. Tyrone saw the mass siphon away from the football player's body and pass through the machine into him. His formerly baggy shirt now clung to his beefed up torso: his swelling pecs pulled the fabric forward while his thickening back pushed the fabric backward and his broadening lats put more and more tension on the seams. The sleeves that used to cover most of his arms didn't even cover his upper arms anymore: his widening shoulders pulled the fabric up to showcase his meaty arms. His baggy shorts now came only halfway on his thick quads. Keith gulped as he had to look up to catch the freshman's eye. The guy now looked like an amateur heavyweight bodybuilder. "Please", he pleaded in an unfamiliar higher voice, "no more. I can't get smaller". Tyrone just smirked and effortlessly tightened his grip around the metal handles, making the machine shake from his force. "POWERHOUSE!!!!!" Keith blinked in disbelief at the display. He refused to look aside as the shadow of the freshman grew and he heard the tearing sound of the ripping fabric. He knew he had no other option than to continue the game. He grunted as he summoned every ounce of force in his weakened body. The handles seemed to resist his grip. "PATHETIC" The letters on the display appeared to turn blurry and a wave of fatigue flowed through Keith. He could feel more size escaped his body and his boxers that used to showcase his meaty ass and lengthy cock fell to the ground. "CALCULATING SCORE", the display showed, "Player two… = BETA BOY!" Keith fell the last ounce of masculinity vanish from him. He felt his balls shrivel to the size of small marbles and pull closer to his body. His cock, once his 10 inches of pride followed this lead: it shrunk to a pencil-thin 2 incher. A ringing sound made him look back at the machine. "Player one", the display said, "… = TOTAL ALPHA!!!!!" "YEAUGH", Tyrone groaned as a final, yet very powerful surge shot through his huge frame. His tight, already ripped shirt exploded into shreds as his huge muscles grew to another level of thickness. A loud snapping sound followed as his shorts and boxers gave in under the pressure of his thickening waist. His head shot up as more height was added to his frame. He grunted as he felt the energy shot into his groin. His balls swelled to the size of lemons and sank lower in between his meaty quads and his 7 incher amassed girth and length, snaking further down against his leg. Without looking at the drained football player, he swaggered over to the mirror on the other side of the locker room. He ripped away the last remains of his destroyed shirt and stared at his nude reflection. "FUARK", Tyrone bellowed, his eyes widening in disbelief at the image of perfection staring back at him. He scanned every inch of his now beastly physique before beginning to explore his new body. His paws groped the protruding rack that hung from his chest, clawing at the hard meat of the half watermelon-sized pecs and testing the weight of meaty slabs; they slid down onto a stony eight-pack made of cobblestones separated by deep grooves. He licked his lips while taking in the size of his perfectly round shoulders that outsized bowling balls and the insane size of the monster arms that hung from them: the muscle on his upper arms twitched underneath the paper-thin skin and seemed ready to explode from it; his lower arms were crisscrossed with cable-sized cords of muscle. His lower body was just as impressive: his quads rivaled young trees in size; they were jam-packed with hard beef that eclipsed his kneecaps; his calves were bigger than most guys quads. He was about to grope the lengthy snake as a faint movement caught his attention. Keith had ignored the giant freshman, knowing he was no match for the guy now. While Tyrone went to inspect his new physique in front of the mirror, the diminished athlete made his move. He slowly released the handles he was still groping, pulled up his now baggy boxers and equally large sweatpants and kept his hand on them to prevent them from falling off again. He cautiously stepped to the door, making sure not to attract the freshman's attention. He grabbed the door handle and tried pushing it down. The door didn't move. He tried again, applying more force this time. "I locked it earlier when I came in". The deep rumbling bass filled the locker room like thunder and vibrated down Keith's weak body. His hand was frozen to the door handle. He heard the heavy footsteps and the large shadow grew on the door as the giant freshman came to him. A paw grabbed his armpit and dragged him in front of the mirror. He glanced up at his reflection and gasped: the ridiculously large clothes hung from his emaciated body and made him look like a kid who had put on his bigger brother's clothes. He peeped as the paw ripped away the clothes and exposed him completely. Tears welled up in his eyes: he looked like a weak boy instead off the hulking athlete he had been minutes earlier. Every trace of muscle that had once highlighted his physique, was gone. The layer of fat that used to give him a bulky appearance now made him look pudgy ad childlike. The beefy football player that dominated the team had been replaced by a meager boyish figure. He couldn't even remember having ever been this small. His 5'1, 105 pound body made him weak and puny by any standard. "Turn around!" The booming command made Keith jump up and he quickly did as he was told. He looked straight at the top row of the most deeply grooved set of abs he'd ever seen. He tilted his head up to stare at the face and instinctively took a step backward as his mind processed the size of the beastly freshman in front of him. The now 6'6, 330 pound Tyrone dwarfed him unlike anything he'd ever done to other guys. His own 242 pound body had been bulky and massive, but the giant freshman didn't seem to have an ounce of fat on him: deep grooves, striations and veins edged along the hulking mass of his hard muscles that pushed against his skin. His square face, shadowed by a five o'clock beard sat atop an insanely thick neck that flowed into a broad line capped with boulder-like shoulders. Striations were visible through the thin skin stretched across the perfectly round delts. A thick vein snaked over the shoulders down on the ham-sized arms and branched off in dozens of smaller veins to feed the huge biceps at the front and the thick triceps that jutted out from the back. The beastly freshman outsized even elite superheavyweight bodybuilders. He looked like an anatomy chart that had come to live and was perfectly proportioned, except for his arms that seemed just a tad too big. Masculinity seemed to ooze from him and hang in the air like electricity around his hulking frame. Tyrone moved in front of the mirror and threw a most muscular. "FUARK", he roared as his muscles exploded in a symphony of harness, striations and veins across his body, "seems like there's a Tyrex in town". The faint 'wow' made him turn his attention back to the former athlete next to him. A smug grin formed on his face as he noted the awe in the frail guy's eyes. "Yo Keith", he said and brought his right arm up in front of his torso and flexed it, 'BADABOOM". Keith's eyes widened while the bicep in front of him exploded in size. The orb of hard meat sprang upward and outward into a pineapple-sized muscle choked in veins. The bicep swelled and hardened some more as the beastly freshman tightened his flex fully, stopping just below 30 inches of pure muscle. The sight of the massive arm hardening inches from his face made Keith's cock race to hardness and spew out a small, watery load that dribbled from the 2 incher. Tyrone noticed the fallen athlete's reaction and felt a jolt go through his own cock while he realized he totally dominated the small guy. He relaxed his right arm, placed his paw atop the guy's bony shoulder and pushed him down. Keith was forced to his knees by the paw that covered his shoulder, upper arm and half of his flat chest. He looked forward and stared straight at the fleshy snake that was lengthening along the thick quad and began rising upward. Within seconds the 14 inch cock was at full length, veins running along the thick shaft and the purple red head pointed directly at his face. He looked up but he couldn't see the freshman's face: the protruding rack of pecs hide it from his view. "Please…", he pleaded but a large paw grabbed the back of his head and the snake was rammed into his mouth. Tyrone grinned as he felt the small guy's hand tug at his right arm that held his head in place. His thick forearms easily withstood the tugging. He pushed more of his cock into the hot mouth. Keith gagged as 10 inches of the fleshy snake filled his mouth. He ceased his clawing and placed his frail hands atop the beastly quads for support as the beastly freshman began pumping in and out his mouth. His vision was filled with the cobblestone-sized abs that flexed on the rhythm of the thrusts. "YEAUGHN", Tyrone roared as ecstasy exploded through his 330 pound body. His lemon-sized balls drew tight and began releasing their thick load into the fallen athlete's mouth. Keith quickly gulped down the first huge load, a second one filling his mouth seconds later. He sucked down as much of the sticky spunk as fast as he could, but the hefty balls kept blasting out loads. Cum began flowing from the corners of his mouth and even from his nose. His vision began going dark by the lack of oxygen. After 10 loads, the snake withdrew from his mouth and blasted a final load onto his face, coating it with liquid heat. The paw released his head and he slumped down to the floor. Tyrone turned his gaze back to his reflection in the mirror. He flexed his left arm, smirking as the huge muscle exploded into a massive orb of vein-covered beef. He would have sworn he heard his skin stretch tight as the monster bicep swelled to its new size. He went over to Keith's gym bag and grabbed his hoody. He ripped off the sleeves and put it on. The zipper could only close over his eight-pack, his pecs protruded so far from his chest that it was impossible to get the zipper up any further. He grabbed a pair of baggy sweatpants from another locker and pulled them on: they fight like a second skin over his gargantuan legs. He threw a final look on the emaciated senior lying on the floor and left.
  2. godofjurai

    INFINITY BREAKERS - PART 02

    ***DISCLAIMER***. If it gets complaints, I will move it to the Member+ Section. This series involves a 16 year old. There is sex, but there is also Age Progression and the 16 year old becomes a man in the beginning of this over all story, so it is essentially a regular story. Just a Warning and a Precaution I wanted to take. ***DISCLAIMER*** Part 2 The MIND – Part I Johnathan’s face was a strange mix of fear, amazement, and a bit of excitement. This man, this hero, his hero, that he admired and the whole world wanted to be like has shrunk down to a size even smaller than himself. “H-How?! I-Is this how you looked before you got your powers?” He lifted his hand out, needing a touch just to see if this was actually real or not. He placed his hands on the teen’s chest in front of him. It was flat, flatter than his own. Sliding his hands around this “HERO” he thought he new and adored, and wrapping them around his sides to support himself as he leans over him, to get his face closer to this new discoveries own face. “Wow… after seeing how amazingly manly you were, you’re actually pretty fucking cute like this too…” He smiled down at the now regressed “Hero” to teen. He realizes a large sphere, blue in color, rolled over from their weight on the bed and bumped the outside of his hand. He remembers it popped out of his “Hero” a few moments ago. He manipulates his hand away from the teen under him, and plucks the ball from the sheets; holding it up to the light, examining its slick shine before returning his gaze “What is this?” he asks, drying it off a bit on his shirt, his hand still wet with particles of the sphere from picking it up. “I-“ the teen with his back on the bed had to stop himself. His voice was so much higher then what he was as The Alpha. “I’m going to need that back, stud. He reached up toward the ball, but Johnathan pulls away a bit. Johnathan moves his other hand to push the smaller guy’s legs apart, spreading them so he could get even closer and in control. “That’s not to be messed with!” the former “Hero” swallowed hard as he tried to plead with the slightly larger teen. “That’s the Mind… The Mind of a Hero!” He gazed at the sphere with wonderment being held above him out of reach. He needed that back. “Come on Johnathan… Sport… Stud… Look at us! We’re close to the same size now! We can still have fun, then I can go back to how I was. Just, be gentle with that. You don’t know how to use it or what you are doing…” Johnathan pulls his band back farther up, making it even harder for the teen to touch the sphere, and uses his other hand to grab the teen’s wrist that was reaching up, pushing it back down and holding it firmly to his sunken chest. He gazes back at the ball, then back at the fallen, raising an eyebrow, a sly cocky grin sweeps on his face. “Mind of a hero…” he relishes on how easy it is to now hold his “Hero” down, a sharp contrast from the moments before. He goes back to the shrunken man’s old plea. Fun… “Oh we can still have fun alright… But how would something like this give you power?” he asks, getting turned on slightly, he grinds his stiffening cock into the smaller mans covered cheeks, noticing the lump in the “Hero’s” tights was now even smaller than his own. “This to me look’s like just a Jawbreaker.” He noticed a bit of the sugar sludge on his hand. He swaps the ball into his other hand, bringing the sweet sludge to his lips. He has to be sure it is what it looks like as he pushes his tongue to his hand and licks the sweetness clean, making his “Hero” watch in utter horror. That one lick changed everything. A *SPARK* ignited inside of Johnathan’s brain… a *SPARK* that he could already tell was going to change his life, and the Universe FOREVER. Whispers, very faint began to push out inside of him. “Hello?! Who else is here?!” he began to look around the room, questioning as they began to grow, get louder, clearer… Lick the ball, our New Master… we will help… The old hero looked up at Johnathan. He knew how the chain of events started. He heard the voices. He knows the steps and how this was going to turn out if he didn’t stop it soon, he knew that the teen above him would soon be a VERY big man. “Stop, Johnathan,” he pleaded, practically begged as he placed his hand on his holder’s wrist holding him. “You’re a virgin, right kid? I was too before I became a hero. I’ll help you, I’ll be with you, I promise. The birds and the bees, positions, everything you need to know, just give it back and you will learn from me.” Johnathan’s eyes went wide with a thousand yard stare as the initial HIT of the MIND hit him, the voices filling his head. He notices a bit of sludge on his other finger tips from when he tried to wipe this “MIND” off with its wetness earlier. Yanking his hand up, dragging his so called “Hero” up with him. He brings his finger to his lips, licking them clean. More gates open up inside his MIND, filling him with new thoughts, insidious thoughts of power and lust. He heard the fallen “Hero’s” words faintly, bringing him back to reality. “Everything I need to know…” He looks down at him letting his hand drop slowly and lowering the body attached to him back onto the bed. “I think this thing right here will do that just fine…” He starts to grin, but it turns into a cocky smirk. I thought comes into his head, possibly an Ultimatum for this “Hero” that the world made everyone worship. “Hmm… Unless…” His grin got wider. “Unless you can get me to cum faster than I can work through this Jawbreaker!!” The former “Hero” watched as Johnathan raised the Jawbreaker, The Mind, above both of them. He tilted his head back, and watched in horror as the sphere was pushed into his mouth, closing shut. Johnathan leaned back over the hero. “Start teaching, sir…” he teased, grinding his crotch up against the “Hero” as he interlocked both sets of their hands and pushed him against the bed. The “Hero”, with the last bit of strength he had left, managed to roll them both over so he was on top of Johnathan, kicking the last remnants of his loose fitting uniform off, his leg tights. His body now exposed completely as he pushed his hands into the waist band of Johnathan’s short tugging down. Johnathan laughed, watching this “Hero” literally try as best as he can to get to his cock so he could get himself to cum. He humored him, lifting his ass up off the bed slightly, to let the puny “Hero” slide his shorts off. He slurps on the sweetness, rolling the MIND around on his tongue, as the voices slowly begin to return to him. He sees the “Hero” now checking out his 4 inch dick between them, and the MIND can also see what Johnathan can as well. Now that’s a NIIIICE COCK… Not like the three inches our last Master had… The Jawbreaker, slowly melting down, creeping more and more into Johnathan’s very being. A small warmth begins to spread throughout him. The MIND beginning to become one with Johnathan. The old “Hero” grabs Johnathan’s 4 inch dick, it slowly begins to inflate in his hand, as he starts pumping it, twisting it, with different motions and movements to get this teen to shoot his load. This is a real ALPHA… The voices continue as a Shock to the brain causes Johnathan’s head to smack into the bed, it was like a punch to the face. LANGUAGE… in a matter of seconds he is fluent in all of them, even alien ones not yet known to man on this world. Don’t ever use this word new Master… Johnathan saw the word the “Hero” said. That gave him this opportunity of a lifetime… On second thought… Let’s just Erase it from Master’s vocabulary… This Master doesn’t deserve to EVER be small… “OHHHHH FUUUCK!” Johnathan moans in approval. His cock getting more rigid and harder from what they are telling him. “Fuck… that word… the one you said…” he finally sees a plaque on the wall near them. Andy… the “Hero’s” Name. He grins. “Yeah that word, Andy… The one that made you this weak piece of shit? This MIND Jawbreaker just gave me all the words in existence. My Vocabulary is better than any fucking Dictionary in the entire Universe, but they made sure to not give me THAT word… If I get all your “POWERS” they are mine forever.” Andy looks on, scared. He doubles down intensifying his hand job skills as the stroking and the voices just amp up the coming orgasm even more for Johnathan. “I’ll make you fucking cum Johnathan!!!” Johnathan begins to chuckle. “You better make me cum, Andy… and fast! This thing is melting faster than I expected, it wants me as its new Master.” He reaches forward, stopping Andy’s cock jerking momentum, and places his hand on the head, rubbing his hair, before sliding it to the back, gripping his skull, and pulling him closer to his cock. Small amounts of sexual prowess start seeping in, soon a big wave will flourish inside him. Johnathan pulls Andy’s head to the shaft, as he guides Andy’s hand that is still holding on to his meat and angles it upwards to Andy’s lips. “Part your lips, Andy. I think I want to see what getting head feels like.” He smirks as he pulls Andy’s head closer. Andy moved his mouth over Johnathan’s cock just as fast as he was being pulled towards it. He needed to get this guy to cum and he needed to cum before any more power went to him. His efforts caused Johnathan to shudder. It’s the first time he’s ever had a warm, moist mouth and tongue glide over the surface of his penis, and it was electrifying. “Oh… OH FUCK!” His cock went rigid. He felt his testicles churn and shake in anticipation of the cumming lurch. “I CAN’T… PLEASE… MIND!!!!” Oh you ain’t fucking cumming Alpha… His moans softened a bit, his dick still rock hard, Andy had to look up for a minute. Those voices in Johnathan’s head, music to his ears… him… ALPHA… that was what everyone used to call the teen in front of him on the floor who had his swollen, hard cock down his throat now. He looked up, and said out aloud to the voices… “Soon…” Andy was afraid of what the MIND was telling Johnathan, but Johnathan could literally hear the MIND moan inside of him, his saliva glands secreting more just to wet the Jawbreaker enough to give him another dose of knowledge. Johnathan’s head smacked hard against the bed again, but so did his body… it felt like he was hit by a semi-truck. SCIENCES… PHYSICS OF THE BODY… MOVEMENTS FOR WORK OUTS… The continued working of Johnathan’s cock…. All these new things he has gained in his knowledge. Everything was bringing him again back to the brink. Knowing how his body can move. Knowing how to eat right with the sciences to grow even BIGGER. Knowing the proper motions in his workouts to really help his fit teen body grow… His balls start to pull up… he feels his first load about to push its way into the passageways leading into his shaft. “Oh God… Fuck… NOOO… I’M GONNA CU-“ Yes… Let’s give him THAT as a TRAIT… HOW TO CONTROL AN ORGASM… Andy was excited. He finally succeeded, as he sucked a bit harder he noticed the cock in his mouth stopped its pulsing. It was as if it was on a massive edge. And Johnathan, the teen who’s cock was in his mouth began to laugh. “Mph… HAHAHAHAHA! Oh yes…” his balls resting in his sack as they pull to their normal hanging spot. “You are DONE Andy.” Andy stopped sucking, looking up at Johnathan confused. “But you haven’t came yet. What do you mean?” “You see, the MIND truly loves me, Andy. They gave me a gift. Now I won’t cum unless I choose to.” As he spoke more waves entered through him, he moaned, but his cock stayed true. CONFIDENCE… SWAGGER… Johnathan pushes himself up on the bed, placing both feet on the ground firmly, and opens his legs wide, pushing Andy onto the floor between them. He grabs a hold of his cock, stroking it, as he arches his back and true Alpha mind status floods in. Johnathan’s spine cracks, shifts, as it becomes perfectly aligned as he reaches what should have been his maximum growth at this stage in life, 5 FEET, 4 INCHES. His lower torso rearranges as he finally is able to have a 4-pack all the time without flexing in his stomach muscles. And his chest pushes out slightly more. He grins wide, hand flicking his cock back towards Andy, so it swings out and drips pre all over the floor and partially splattering the teen’s face in front of him. “This power, Andy… it is… intoxicating… I’m learning so much…. Much more in seconds than most men do their entire lives.” Johnathan pats the spot next to him on the bed, now HIS bed, letting Andy know to come back up. Andy slowly got up, Johnathan extending his hand to help him sit down on the bed. “You still haven’t made me cum, Andy. I honestly doubt you will be able to now either…” Andy looks down, Johnathan puts his hand under his chin and lifts it so they are looking directly at each other. “Not with just your mouth at least.” He winks, grinning, and motions for Andy to turn around. Andy slowly slides up the bed. Scared, but also a little turned on. His own 3 inches hard as he gets into doggy position. Take your place, Our Alpha… The voices egging Johnathan on, his cock practically drooling more and he lubricates it completely with a couple quick hand strokes. He sucks down on the MIND. His back arches as he moves closer to his conquest as a new set of knowledge becomes clear to him. PLEASURE… SEXUAL POSITIONS… DOMINATION… HOW TO REALLY FUCK… His mind fills with endless possible ways to take that spread ass right in front of him. To truly make it his own personal Fuck hole. It excites him just looking at Andy, down on all fours, his head turned looking back at his soon to be “HERO” Johnathan dips a bit, right behind Andy. He reaches down and grips the ass in front of him, his hands knowing exactly where to go as he holds him steady and pulls Andy’s cheeks apart, exposing his hole. “Oh fuck… its beautiful Andy.” His hips sliding forward, his abs crunching slightly, as he presses his hard cock between the ass cheeks and begins a slow grind, spreading his pre all over the opening of the hole. Andy’s hole flutters in anticipation. He feels the engorged, dripping tip rub around his hole, waiting for Johnathan to push himself in. Let’s give him more gifts…. The head is not Alpha worthy… Johnathan chuckles a bit. “You guys are fucking right! It ain’t fucking Alpha worthy!” Andy doesn’t know what Johnathan is talking about now, but as he said that, Johnathan looked down at his dick, ready to be plunged into Andy as he watched it flare up, and expanding into a fat bulbous mushroom tip. “Mmmm fuck, this is going to feel soooo good! Not just for me, Andy, but for you now too…” Now it’s fitting of an ALPHA… Johnathan grins at what was just given to him and pushes forward. Pressure begins at the opening of Andy’s hole when he realizes what Johnathan was just given. Andy moans, Johnathan moans as Andy’s hole is forced open for him and it literally pops into place in the virgin cavern. Johnathan tugs back slightly to see if his cock would be coming out easy, and it’s as if his cock is now vacuum sealed inside of Andy. Only way it will be coming out is if he literally forces his cock free. “Oh Fuuuuuuck!!!!!” he moans as he sinks his cock in deeper. Give him thoughts of power… of battle… it will truly not just make him a beast on the battleground, but a titan in the bedroom… More Knowledge starts to flow… ATHLETICS... STRENGTH OF THE BODY AND MIND... EVERY TYPE OF FIGHTING KNOWN TO MAN... STANCES... POSITIONS... WAYS TO CONQUER EVERY BATTLE... Johnathan grunts… his teeth grinding into the Jawbreaker inside of his mouth. He feels it begin to slightly dent inward… OOOOOHHHHHHH IT’s COMING!!!!! ONCE IT BREAKS WE ARE TRULY HIS!!!!! Johnathan shifts his body into a better position, to truly slay the ass that he was inside. His hands sliding along Andy’s sides as he slowly shoves himself deeper. “Fuck… you feel like a virgin too, Andy… I bet you fucking were before you got your god body.” Andy blushes as Johnathan smirks and moans out as his cock still tingles from the subtle growth it just went through, supporting the already intense feeling of his cock getting wrapped up in this hot and tight ass. As all that knowledge fills his head, he starts changing how he fucks every dozen or so thrusts; humping harder here, gripping Andy’s body in different positions and speeds in other instances. Eventually he pulls Andy’s arms backwards and starts bouncing Andy’s ass off of his hips, sending him forwards, before yanking him back down to the hilt of his dick as he pounded relentlessly into the hole he was in. Andy begins to learn from his movements, as he arches his back to give him and Johnathan even more support in this passionate, yet dominate fuck session. Never has he been on this end before, always was he the one doing the fucking. Each time he’s pushed forward and pulled back in a little more of Johnathan’s shaft slide’s in until there is almost the sound of thunder as skin hits skin as. “FUCK, JOHNATHAN!!!” Andy moans, he grins. It hurts as, but Andy really wants it to feel good for himself cause he already knows his time is over. Things he was experiencing he had knowledge of, but never thought of doing them to his partner. They were wrong… Sex is about love and passion… There was still passion here, but it was something else other then love… Johnathon pulled Andy all the way in when the voices spoke again… How would you like more, Master? They weren’t just egging him on, they were feeding his ego. Making him what he could only dream of. A Hero, but with possibly a body of some of the biggest villains in the comic books. They were giving him the rise he not just needed, but wanted. Help him slightly… He can truly be the WORLD BREAKER… Every muscle and fiber inside of Johnathan flared out to sickening proportions, then returned down to the size they were. “OH Fuck…” He felt it inside him… his organs…. His skin… his teeth… That should be enough till you get The Power… Strength is now 3 TIMES that of a normal man… Break Us, ALPHA, and we will give you what power we have left. Johnathan groans out lewdly from the increase in strength, yanking Andy even harder towards him as he slams his cock all the way deep inside the ass in front of him. His grip around Andy’s waist becoming even more tight and restrictive. Andy turns around to see a slight increase in Johnathan’s muscle definition to signify his new, incredible strength. “Oh Fuck… Oh Fuck… OH FUCK YEAH!” he roared, the voices driving his desire to dominate Andy even further. He looks down to Andy’s face who is already looking his direction. Grinning evilly, “Time to fucking break you…” speaking both about Andy and the MIND Jawbreaker. He uses his new strength coursing through his body… CHOMPS down, splitting the remains of the ball in half. Andy is fearful, it seems like the sound is heard across the Universe of that sphere BREAKING in this new Young Alpha’s mouth. Johnathan feels a sudden rush of knowledge and power, everything coming into him at once, and he can’t help but to draw Andy in close and tight in a crushing hug as he ROARS from what he now knew… “GIVE ME ALL OF YOUR FUCKING POWER…” Again, talking to both Andy and the MIND… To Be Continued…
  3. godofjurai

    INFINITY BREAKERS - Part 01

    So I am putting a disclaimer here before anyone reads this. If it gets complaints, I will move it to the Member+ Section. This new series involves a 16 year old. There is sex in the later parts, but there is also Age Progression, so this teen becomes an ADULT. Just a Warning and a Precaution I wanted to take. This is also based on an RP I am currently working on with Nostson. It is still not complete but we are making sure it gets to completion so this amazing EPIC can be told in full. Currently Have enough for 4 parts... and TWO of them are already written. Anyways... Please Enjoy this twisted piece of fucked up fiction for your jerking pleasures... INFINITY BREAKERS Part 1 The Alpha The Alpha, the Universe’s only sole Guardian, is out patrolling his local city. It’s a daily thing and if he didn’t do it, well it just left it up to the local authorities. What set him apart was he had powers normal heroes didn’t have. Strength 10 times a normal human. And Super Speed. Everyone loved him, he was an all-around Hero that everyone wished they were him as well. After he just stopped another bank robbery, heading out to his next location to patrol, he noticed a teen, 16 years of age. Sizing him up 5’3” 140lbs. A nice athletic build. He was a fine specimen that in a few years when he was truly a man, He’d be one hell of a stud. The Alpha’s inner mentality made his stomach churn a bit. You see, The Alpha wasn’t always this 6’6” 345lb shredded beef of muscle. He used to be just as small as this teen, but we will get to that later. The Alpha flew in low, landing right behind the teen, pressing his first up along the wall above his head. “How’s it going sport?” He tried sounding cool, flirting in his own way as best as he could. He looked down at the teen over his pecs, as the teen looked up from his phone, giving the kid his hero’s smile. The teen watched as the fist actually punched a hole into the side of the building, bits of debris fell at their feet, a couple of pebbles and dust landed in his hair. All he could do was gawk at the massive body so close to him, eventually he saw the handsome face, smiling back. “H-hello sir!” he couldn’t find the words, his Hero was right in front of him, larger then life. “I-I’m doing fine! What are you doing here?” The Alpha placed his large hand on the teen’s shoulder, his palm fully enclosing it as he made his way to the other side of the teen’s body, bending down a bit so they were eye level. “I just finished up here, when my eye caught you! You’re a pretty handsome kid!” He took a second to adjust himself before giving him a wink and a grin. “How would you like to come back to The Alpha’s home?” The Alpha kept smiling as he brushed the dust off of the top of the teen’s hair, but in reality it was just an excuse for him to get another touch of this kid he had a crush on. The teen gasped a bit from the touch, his own hand coming up to brush against his hero’s forearm, feeling the raw power of his real life champions thick and veiny muscle. He blushed from the words, even more that this muscled powerhouse had any interest in him, and even stopping by to give him a smile and a wink. “W-why thank you, sir! You’re the most handsome guy around though! W-why would you invite me?! I-I mean, yes! Of course I want to come!” The teen continued to get flustered as he was given this once in a lifetime opportunity. The Alpha took that as his OK. In one quick sweep he spun the teen around, lifting him off his feet and scooping him into his arms. “Sorry, Sport!” He pulled a cloth out of his back pocket, tying it around the teen’s. “I can’t let you see where home is right now. So where this as a precaution and we will get there safely!” In seconds, The Alpha lifted off the ground, and took off, holding the teen close to his body, making sure even with breaking the sound barrier, the teen was safe. In mere minutes later, they slow down as The Alpha comes in for a landing, He places the teen on a chair, “Security System: Lock Down!” removing the blindfold from the teen’s eyes as giant metal shutters began closing around the entire room. “VOICE RECOGNITION COMPLETE!” the animatronic voice echoed throughout the giant room as the last shutters slid over the windows, blocking the sun completely from their views. *CLAP-CLAP* Light’s begin to turn on and illuminate the building. The teen look’s around. High Ceilings, lots of computers and electronics, even all the new and latest gaming gadgets. His hero was a gamer too! On one side of the room sat a kitchen. The other a bedroom, with a very large bed, much bigger than a King. “Wow… this is like… the room of my dreams! But why do you have all this stuff? Aren’t you busy being a hero?” The Alpha slowly pulls his gloves off, tossing them aside, followed by pulling the spandex top off his upper body. His chest glistened with sweat as he took a seat at the foot of the bed, looking over at the teen. The teens jaw dropping again from the site of his pumped body. “H-Holy fuck…” he mumbled as his body faced the hero. The Alpha pats the spot next to him on the bed as he lifts his leg up, pulling his booted foot into his lap and removing the boot, exposing his large size 15 foot. He does the same with the other boot, tossing it aside. “A hero has to have fun every now and then, doesn’t he? It gets lonely some times. The teen stepped closer, his knees threatening to give out as he approached the hero, looking away from his face, glancing down to see those massive feet and legs. He almost ended up stumbling over the massive discarded boots from not paying attention, stepping over them and making eye contact just before he was right in front of him. “Is that why you invited me then?” “Come closer, stud! I don’t bite!” He makes a chomping sound with his pearly whites. “Unless you want me to?” He winks before letting out a hardy heroic laugh. The teen backs up a bit as the hero leaned forward and pretended to bite, blushing in embarrassment as he heard the deep laugh. He slowly moves closer towards The Alpha again, sitting on the spot he initially patted, looking over at this large, muscle man’s body, seeing the thickness of his pecs and even his abs from this angle. “I-I think I’ll pass on the biting…” he was slightly confused. The hero turned to face the teen a bit. “Don’t be shy! I was once small like you! You have no need to be embarrassed in front of me.” The hero noticed the teen checking him out. Taking in everything that made him the hero. He lifted his arm up, flexed it. The bicep peaked up, perfect symmetry. “Go ahead. Touch it!” The Alpha gently takes the teen’s hand into his own, placing it on the warm rounded surface. He gives it a little flex, making it harder. “What’s your name, kid?” The teen can’t really believe what his hero was saying… he was once small like him? He watched as his hero moved his hand along his bicep. His own hand shaking a bit, but he slowly calmed down after he felt how gentle the large man was. He tried gripping the bicep, squeezing it a bit harder. Moving his second hand up on that one massive peak of hard flesh. “Oh god… I can’t even budge your arms!” He shouted excitedly, and got even more excited as his hero raised his other arm into a double bicep pose. “M-My name is Johnathan, sir! And what do you mean you were once small like me?” The Alpha watched as Johnathan continued to feel up his arms with his hands… It’s practically a worship session, which he had not hand in quite a long time, especially not from someone so HOT to him either. His own cock, stirring a bit as he got lost in the feeling. “Mmmm… A guy doesn’t just get to be like how I am, Johnny Boy… Powers… this much strength… I’m the only one like me in the entire Universe…” The Alpha lifted Johnathan up, spun him around and pulled him into his chest. “I used to be just like you a few years ago. Hell, I was even a teen! 16 to be exact…” getting lost in the feel, The Alpha ran his beard against Johnathan’s neck. His breathe warm. Pecs heaving on Johnathan’s back as he wrapped his arms around him in an embrace. “Will you be mine, Johnathan?” Johnathan blushed again as his hero gave him such a cute nickname, then snapped back to reality as hid idol he just met told him all this stuff about himself. “W-WHAT?” stammered out before he was man handled and forced into the hero’s lap. “I mean, how can I say no to you, sir?” he was being overwhelmed by everything that was happening so quick. He tried to clear his mind for a second. Thinking back to what The Alpha had told him. “You were once 16, like me. H-How did you become so…. So massive? So Powerful? So…” he took a second to swallow his fear of what he was about to ask. “S-Sexy?” Johnathan blushed as he reached up to rub his hands along the massive forearms, knowing even if he didn’t want to be there, in his heroes arms, there was no way he could move the arms holding him with his strength alone. “My power was inherited, little one…” The Alpha continued his story, kissing the teen’s neck, reaching his hand into his sexy young stud’s shorts. Johnathan blushed a bit, letting out a light moan as the large hand moved down his core and into his pants, his hands gripping onto The Alpha’s wrist as things began to move faster, not sure where things were going to go as he had never done this before with anyone, his own cock beginning to grow erect. “I mean one day the world was in complete chaos, the next I show up… seems kind of ironic don’t you think but I did clean up the mess…” His hand gripped around the shaft, 4 inches, getting harder. “Mmmm, fuck… bigger then mine used to be… and the same age.” The Alpha was lost in his own thoughts. “Fuck !&@&*$&(!*&#*(!)!*&!” The word made no sense, but the next moment changed everything. The Alpha began to breathe hard, trying to catch his breath. *THUMP* A large ball falls onto the floor, rolling away from them. “WhAt HaVe I dOnE…” The Alpha’s voice was slowly changing pitch. His shadow looming over Johnathan was beginning to shrink, and the teen felt it too. Johnathan’s back begun to sink back into the hero more. The pec’s that were once supporting him began to retract. *THUMP* Another ball… *THUMP* *THUMP* Multiple ones all bounced to different corners of the room. All different colors and some of different sizes. Johnathon snaps back to reality as he heard that strange word and the balls start to bounce. He felt movement from behind him and the higher pitch voice was beginning to worry him. “What the…” not even sure it was the same man behind him anymore, he holds the arm in front of him tighter, suddenly realizing that they are much smaller and not holding him as tightly. Johnathan turned around, just in time to see The Alpha’s body falling back onto the bed, one more ball rolls around the bed as his heroes body writhers and shrinks to even smaller sizes. “Oh my god, what’s happening to you?!” Johnathan hops over the hero’s body, leaning in over him. The hero continuing to lose size as the teen stares down. His limbs retracting inward. His torso and spine compacting. His muscles deflating. Johnathan watched as the hair on his exposed chest retreated back into his skin. All of the hero’s manly appeal wasted away and reverted back to a more boyish charm as he devolved and shrank. His body reaching Johnathan’s size, before slipping even smaller as he returned to his original 16 year old self. His super hero tights were now loose, his cock no longer bulging outward as it had also returned to its old 3 inch pencil dick size. The Alpha gave one final *GASP* as his memories of the things he had done stayed, but his genius intellect pushed his way out of his head, creating a large jawbreaker, that rolled itself right into Johnathan’s hand that was still watching in utter amazement as his hero became a 5ft 120lb wimp… To Be Continued…
  4. Herald

    The muscle app (final part)

    Four Assistant coach Mr. Blake heard the door of his desk shut behind the massive gymnast and he slowly got up, his arms trembling as they supported his weight. More cum flowed from his ravaged ass and dripped along his legs. He pulled up his boxers and pants and wiped the stains of his own cum from the front of his desk. He'd somehow had to come up with a way of getting back Tyler's muscle from the hulking freshman. He needed to act fast to get a star player out on the field for the upcoming match. He inhaled deeply as his mind tried to find a solution. The next morning assistant coach Mr. Blake was setting up workout routines for the team when a faint knock made him look at the door. "Yes", he said. Tyler opened the door. "Can I come in?", he asked. He entered as the assistant coach motioned him to sit down. "I spoke with Chad yesterday", he peeped, "I wanted to make him give back my muscles". "How did it go?", assistant coach Mr. Blake replied. "Well…", Tyler mumbled. His face turned beet red as he relived the scene of sucking off the huge man. His pencil dick jolted in his pants as his mind filled with the image of the muscular perfection Chad had grown into. "He …eum… well… he wouldn't listen", he mumbled. "Thought so", the coach answered and ignored the red glow on the fallen football player's cheeks. "Did you already speak to him?", Tyler asked. Now it was the assistant coach's turn to blush. "Hum", he said and cleared his throat as he moved in his chair, his worn out ass sending shots of pain through him in response to remind him of the encounter with Chad. "I… tried", he added, "but he didn't listen either. I tried convincing him to give your muscle back but he refused. He didn't even wanted to join the team and put his muscle to use". "His muscle?", Tyler peeped angrily, "My muscle! I will go to the dean. He will force Chad to give back my muscle!". "No!", assistant coach Mr. Blake let out loudly, "That's a very bad idea. Think how the dean will react when you tell him someone stole your muscles. He will probably think you're on drugs. You will get expelled". "I will show him pictures of me. And of Chad", Tyler said. "You will have to admit you stole Chad's muscles first", the assistant coach replied, "Besides I'll lose my job if you reveal that I experimented on students. Then you will never have a chance to get your muscles back." The harsh reality of Mr. Blake's words hailed down on Tyler. Tears welled up in the diminished athlete's eyes. His mind frantically trying to find a way to get back his former size. "Tom", he peeped suddenly. "What about Tom?", assistant coach Mr. Blake answered. "He's my best friend", Tyler spat out rapidly, "If we tell him what happened, he'll help." "How could he help?", assistant coach Mr. Blake asked doubtfully. "He's among the biggest guys on campus. He could easily beat up Chad. Then we could force him to give back my muscles", Tyler said with a grin. "I don't know", assistant coach Mr. Blake replied, "Chad's a few pounds heavier than Tom now". "If we take him by surprise, Tom can take him. I'm sure of it", Tyler stated. The more assistant coach Mr. Blake let the idea run through his mind, the more he liked it. It wasn't a nice solution, but it was their only chance. He did remember the statement of the head coach that not winning the title this year would cost him his job. He nodded slowly as he accepted the plan. "Text Tom to come to my office asap", he said to the now smiling Tyler. Chad opened the door of his room and stared down on his two neighbors. "What's up, boys?", he asked. Keith and Paul took a step backward instinctively. The two freshmen were totally intimidated by the hulking, bare-chested gymnast that filled the opening completely. "We brought ya something", Keith said and handed a bag to Chad. "Saw it and thought it would suit ya", Paul added. Chad took the bag, opened it and pulled a tank top from it. A smug grin formed on his face as he recognized the Captain America logo. "Come on in", he said and stepped back in his room. Keith and Paul entered. They stared at the hulking man who put on the tank top. "Hope it fits. Biggest size we could find", Keith stated. "Bit tight", Chad rumbled and let his meaty muscle stretch the skintight fabric. "Fuck. You would dwarf the actual Captain America", Paul said in total awe, "How big are your arms?". "Not sure", Chad replied, "Haven't measured them recently. Ya boys wanna check them? There's a tape in my desk". Keith and Paul rushed over to the desk, nearly pulling out the top drawer as they practically fought for the tape. "Easy there, boys", Chad said laughingly, "there's enough of me for both of ya". Paul snatched the tape from Keith's grasp and stepped up to the massive man. His heart pounding nervously as he stood in front of the hulking gymnast. "Seems like you won", Chad rumbled and held out his right arm. Paul's hand shook with anticipation as he placed the tape atop the meaty arm. His fingers roamed the bulk of the stretched, yet rounded bicep. Keith eagerly joined in, letting his fingers follow the thick vein at the side of the bicep. "Thought ya wanted to measure my arm", Chad said smugly as the two freshmen worshipped his stretched arm. He slowly raised his forearm, making his bicep mound upward in the process. Keith and Paul marveled as the steely meat under their fingers hardened and rose upward and outward. Paul clumsily dropped the tape as the perfectly round orb of beefy muscle flexed into its full size. He and Keith stared in disbelief at the ball of striated, vein-crossed muscle. "Well. Measure it!", Chad barked at the frozen freshmen. Paul retrieved the tape and wrapped it around the insanely muscled arm. He pulled it tight and his eyes widened as he read off the number. "24 inches", he muttered and joined Keith in his touching of the hot, stone-hard ball of muscle. "Fuck yeah", Chad roared, "Ever felt an arm this big and hard, boys?". He hardened his flex some more. Keith and Paul couldn't believe the hardness of the bicep under their touch. No matter how they tried, they couldn't dent the surface. Instead the muscle pried open their hands as it hardened even more. Their cocks had hardened fully in their pants just from touching the statue-like bicep. Chad enjoyed having his arm worshipped beyond anything he'd ever felt. The thought of making everyone he met lust after him sent a jolt through his own cock. "Mmhm", he groaned as Paul's hands slid under his tank top and explored the ridges of his mighty eight-pack while Keith kept feeling his bicep. Suddenly the door of the room flew open and Tom stood in the doorway. He'd come to the assistant coach's office right away when he'd gotten Tyler's text earlier. He'd listened with a perplexed look on his face to the incredible story Mr. Blake had told him. If the runty Tyler hadn't been standing next to the assistant coach, he would have never believed the story. "We'll make him give back your muscle. No one messes with my friends", he'd yelled as he'd stormed out of the assistant coach's office. "I hope I'm not interrupting the fags", he spat out sarcastically as he entered the room. Keith and Paul retreated against the furthest wall when they saw the angry look on the team captain's face. They knew they didn't stand a chance against the way bigger man. Chad just looked back at Tom, taking in the man's size. "You stole Tyler's muscle. Give them back. NOW!", Tom shouted angrily. "Okay. Okay", Chad pleaded, "I'll give it back. Please don't hurt me". He noticed Tyler and assistant coach Mr. Blake also entering behind Tom. "Really?", Tom asked incredulously, taking aback by the lack of resistance. "Off course not, dumbass", Chad barked in response, "You didn't really think I would give up my muscles?". "Have it your way then", Tom replied and smacked his right fist into the palm of his left hand, "I'm gonna enjoy this". "Careful, Tom", Tyler peeped as he drank in the sight of Chad's muscles stretching the tank top. Tom sized up the other big man and noted he was a few inches taller than the guy. "Don't worry, man. Short guys always look bigger than they are", he said to comfort his friend. He took a step toward his opponent. Chad didn't wait for the huge football player's first move. With an unexpected agility for a man his size he jumped forward. He pulled back his right fist, his thick bicep balling up in the process, and launched it against the athlete's stomach. Tom didn't even have time to blink. One moment he saw the hulking gymnast standing at the end of his bed, the next the guy's fist collided with his abs. The punch felt like a wrecking ball as it hit him. It blasted through the defenses of his muscle gut, busted his abs and pushed the wind out of him. He bent over by the force of the impact. He inhaled deeply to fill his lungs again while his eyes darted up to see the second punch coming. The steely fist hit his muscle gut again and sank deep into the battered abs. He folded double completely as pain exploded from his agonizing stomach through his entire body. Black dots danced before his eyes as the air was once more knocked out of him. He didn't even see the third punch coming. He just felt the impact as the fist hit the bottom of his chin. The force of the blow sent him stumbling backwards until his wide back fell against the wall. He wrapped an arm around his agonizing stomach in protection and raised his other arm in defense while he tried to catch his breath. He couldn't believe the huge gymnast had nearly taken him out with just three blows. His mind urged him to get away, but his legs didn't respond. He looked up into the hulking man's eyes. Chad saw the hint of panic in the big athlete's eyes and swiftly moved in. He threw another punch in the red stomach. Tom folded double as steely fist destroyed his abs and excruciating pain exploded through his body. The moment he bent over, he felt a large paw grab his throat. His hands clutched at the meaty forearm while he felt his body being lifted up. The next moment his feet left the ground, the room seemed to spin around and he was slammed down hard. He yelped in pain as his back collided with the hard floor. Assistant coach Mr. Blake stepped in but a nod of Chad made Paul and Keith each grab one of his arms. He tried to resist but the two athletes held him secured. Chad looked down in triumph on the beaten athlete. He felt all-powerful having taken down the star football player. An idea formed in his mind. "Tyler", he barked at the runty boy, "Bring me the device and the electrodes". Tyler jumped up at the command and went over to the assistant coach. He fished the device and the electrodes from Mr. Blake's pocket and turned around to give them to Chad. In the meantime Chad had ripped off Tom's clothes and tossed the bulky athlete atop his bed. He was stripping off his own boxers as Tyler came standing next to him. "Who looks better?", he asked laughingly and took the device from the boy. Tyler's eyes shot from the nude Tom atop the bed to the equally nude Chad standing at the end of it. His friend was a big, bulky guy but Chad's insanely ripped muscles made him actually look somehow fat. Chad placed an electrode on the top of Tom's meaty pecs and the other one on the same place on his own protruding chest. He tossed the device to Paul who caught it in his left hand while still holding onto the assistant coach's arm with his right hand. "Switch it on", he barked to the smaller freshman while he kneeled at the end of the bed and placed his paws atop the thick pecs. Paul did as he was told and the device in his hand peeped, displaying "Transfer engaged!". Tom wiggled in the bed but the huge gymnast firm grip on his pecs held him down. He didn't know what was happening. He blinked as he thought what was a spark shot from his chest and disappeared into the electrode on the other huge man's chest. "Fuck yeah", Chad growled as the sparks shot into him and formed a steady flow of energy feeding his already huge muscles. The battered athlete on the bed didn't have enough strength left to resist his theft. He dug his hands firmly into the already softer pecs to increase the flow of power. "You're so full of power!", he moaned in pleasure as the warmth spread through his 248 pound body. Tom didn't capture what was going on. His mind was still trying to comprehend how the huge gymnast had taken him out so quickly. When he finally realized that the other athlete was taking his muscles, he tried fighting back but his defenses were simply too weak. "Please Chad. No", he pleaded in vain. He looked at the guy's face and saw a look of pure hunger in the icy blue eyes. Chad, now growing past the 270 pound mark, enjoyed the intoxicating feeling. He saw the fight in the football player's eyes, the fight to keep his muscles from melting away from his body. He looked at the body in his grasp atop the bed and noticed that the curly hairs were retreating into the ever softening pecs he held tightly. "MORE", he growled and dug his fingers into the pecs. The flow of power doubled temporally and decreased back after a couple of seconds. "FUARK", he roared the moment the increased jolt of power hit his body. A wave of energy surged through his body and every muscle hardened and increased in size. The other guy's in the room stared like moths to a flame to the swelling and widening back of the kneeling gymnast. The assistant coach wasn't even resisting the two freshmen anymore. Tom's body, a bulky 243 pounds just minutes ago, dove below the 200 pound mark as the sparks kept shooting from his chest. He kept fighting against the drain but his resistance was completely overpowered by the growing gymnast. He had an incredible sight on the swelling body in front of him but he didn't feel the slightest awe. All he wanted was get away and save his muscles from being taken. Chad was closing in on the 300 pound barrier, every muscle on his body inflating steadily. Hard, striated mass pushed up the veins against his ever tightening skin. "I'm getting so HUGE", he bellowed as he looked down at his growing pecs. The shelf of meat now protruded several inches from his chest. "Give it ALL", he bellowed in his unstopping lust for size. His fingers now totally overpowered the once might pecs beneath them and dug deeper into them. "YEAH", he groaned as the flow of sparks feeding him increased some more. Tyler felt sorry for his best friend but his gaze was fixed on the growing mounds of meat flowing into each other on the broadening back of the kneeling gymnast. He could also see the hulking man's thick triceps inflating bigger and bigger at the sides of his mighty arms. Further down, the kneeling gymnast meaty ass got meatier and meatier with every passing second. His own dick was fully hard in his pants again. Paul and Keith had released assistant coach Mr. Blake's arms and were also staring in pure awe at the growth of the hulking freshman. Mr. Blake didn't think about running away or rushing in to free his star player. Like the others, he could only stare at the incredible scene. Tom looked past the hulking gymnast at his friend Tyler and assistant coach Mr. Blake. "Help me", he pleaded and closed his eyes as fatigue and exhaustion began spreading through his weakening body. A good minute later he reopened his eyes to implore help again. He blinked in disbelief: the time he had closed his eyes, the gymnast had grown taller and wider and now totally blocked his view from the rest of the room. Chad stared down at the body in his grasp: the once 243 pound star football player now looked like bulky wrestler as his body sank below 180 pounds. The curly hairs that used to cover Tom's meaty pecs had retreated completely in the now flabby chest. Chad threw back his head in ecstasy and let the energy whirl around inside his beastly body. He broke past the 315 pound mark as the energy found its way into this ever growing muscles. Tom realized he wouldn't get any help. He summoned his force to get away from the beastly freshman feeding on his size. He moved his arms up and grabbed the wrists to tear the paws away from his chest. When he placed his hands onto the hot wrists, he noticed he couldn't close his grip around the freshman's thick wrists. He pulled with all his remaining might but it felt like he was trying to rip a tree from the ground with his bare hands. He look back up, past the further protruding rack of pecs to the face of the beastly gymnast. Chad felt the weak tugs on his wrists and slowly turned his head down. He looked down at his paws and saw the frail hands grabbing onto his wrists. A smirk formed on his lips at the sight of the hands that looked comically small compared to his own forearms covered with thick cords of meaty muscle. His gaze travelled along the diminishing torso in his grasp: the bulky star athlete atop the bed now looked like a swimmer as definition and beef kept being sucked from him. Unlike with Tyler earlier, he didn't notice the look of lust in Tom's eyes: the guy was still trying to fight back against the drain. Tom stared back into the icy blue eyes of the now truly huge freshman. He kept pulling at the wrists but the strong forearms didn't budge. His own body now sank under 165 pounds while the gymnast grew past the 330 mark. He knew he was no match for the biggest man he'd ever seen. He felt more fatigue spreading through his weakening body. "Chad", he peeped weakly, "Chad. Let me go… Please. Keep the muscle… but let me… have the muscle… I still have… please". Chad didn't take his eyes from Tom's. He saw the pleading look as the guy in his grasp realized that his resistance was useless. His own body was now more than twice the size of the fallen star athlete. He felt his mighty muscles push against his paper-thin skin as the striated and vein covered mounds amassed more size. His fingers felt the soft mass of the flabby tits beneath them. "More", he rumbled in his deepened bass and dug his fingers hard into the jelly-like pecs, forcing more sparks from the flattening chest into his own hulking pecs. Tom took in the craving for size in the icy blue eyes staring down on him. He knew nothing would the beastly freshman from taking anything he wanted. He could feel the wrists in his grasp thickening further as the corded muscles etching along the beefy forearms kept swelling. He looked down on his own body and was confronted with the new reality: he was now 90 pounds lighter than minutes earlier and the layer of fat that gave him his bulky appearance now made him look more like a fatso. Tyler couldn't see his best friend anymore as the ever widening back of the kneeling gymnast hid the captain of the football team from his sight. His cock was leaking precum in his briefs at the sight of the majestic back he was facing. His left hand reached down his pants and stroked his 3 incher instinctively. A beeping sound made Paul look down at the device in his hand. "Subject reaching natural limits", he read from the screen. He stepped up to the kneeling gymnast. "Hm, Chad", he said nervously as he stood next to the massive freshman, "You're maxing out." Chad heard the remark but only noted the remaining mass in the diminished athlete on the bed. "MORE", he rumbled and concentrated on draining every ounce of muscle into his body. Tom's exhausted resistance crumbled under the increased theft and the last muscles in his body rushed into his chest, converged into pure energy and blasted through the electrode. "FUARK", Chad roared as the flow of energy tripled in size and struck him like lightning. He felt and heard his skin stretch as his mighty muscles ballooned bigger with more mass all at once. "Overload", the device in Paul's hand displayed and it exploded. The excess power circling around the electrode on Chad's chest shot into the device. "Ughn", Paul groaned as the energy shot in to his body. His shirt ripped under the sudden growth of his body. He stumbled backward by the impact. Everyone in the room went silent as Chad stood up and rose to his full height. His insanely broad back was covered with meaty mounds of muscle that fought for room, his beefy ass looked like someone had shoved two volleyballs underneath his skin, his titanic triceps formed massive horseshoes of hard muscle at the back of his lengthy arms. They all inhaled deeply as the colossal freshman turned around to face them. "Fuck ya guys are small", Chad laughed out as he stared down. His deep bass rumbled like thunder through the room, a mighty sound fitted for a 7'2, 368 pound muscle god. Every muscle on Chad's body jutted out from his frame, round and full. His incredible wide shoulders, that gave him an intimidating v-taper, were capped with delts the size of small pumpkins: every head of the striated muscles was clearly visible against his skin; his monstrous pecs were the size of half watermelons, jutting out nearly a foot from his chest, the hard mounds of striated beef defied the pull of gravity and obscured the top of his abs, his nipples pointed down to the floor; his majestic stomach were a landscape of deep grooves separating eight cobblestone-sized abs that rippled on the rhythm of the beastly man's breathing; his astonishing arms hung meaty hams at his sides, the long, rounded, hard yet fully relaxed biceps were crisscrossed with a web of veins and seemed ready to exploded through the paper-thin skin; his tree-sized quads formed two strong pillars of massive muscle, every head of the quadriceps clearly defined; his calves jutted out like beefy diamonds at the back of his legs; between the thick quads a long, meaty snake dangled atop a pairs of egg-sized balls. Atop the beastly body, supported by mounding, beefy traps Chad's face had followed his body's transformation: his rounded, boyish looks had been replaced by a strong, square jaw line covered with a coarse five o clock beard. The air around the beastly freshman seemed to ripple as masculinity oozed from him. "FUARK YEAH!", Chad boomed as he raised his arms into a double bicep pose. His biceps exploded upward and outward, hardening into pineapple-sized orbs of hard beef covered in veins. His skin stretched as the arms reached their new, 31 inch size. The others in the room creamed their pants at the display of pure muscular perfection. "You grew too", Chad said as he lowered his arms and looked down on Paul. He swiftly ripped away the remnants of the guy's destroyed shirt, then proceeded with is pants and boxers. "Nice, man" he said as he took in the new size of the 6'2, 205 pound freshman. Paul shivered. Despite being the second most muscular man in the room, he looked like a twig standing next to beastly muscle god. He instinctively kneeled in front of the man and took his plump cock in to his mouth. "We're gonna have an awesome year", Chad growled as he grabbed the back of the guy's head and let him suck his cock.
  5. Herald

    The muscle app (2)

    Two "Tyler!", the assistant coach yelled as he got his sight back and looked at the now huge athlete atop his desk. "Mhm", Tyler grunted in response. The excruciating pain in his body begins to wear down very slowly. "My… muscles... so much… pain", he mumbled while he opened his eyes and stared up at his coach looming over him, "did it… work?". "It sure did, son", Mr. Blake replied "you're nearly as big as Tom but it's all muscle. Keep lying down. I'll give you something to relax your sore muscles." He grabbed two vials from the top drawer of his desk, unscrewed them and held them at Tyler's mouth. "Drink this" he said and poured the liquid into the open mouth. "Let that sink in. I'll get you some clothes". Tyler nodded and closed his eyes again. The pain seemed to get milder. "You stole my muscles" The high-pitched, feeble squeak made Tyler reopen his eyes. He turned his head to the left and saw the stick-like figure getting up from the floor. "Are you okay?", he asked in his deepened voice, feeling sorry for the guy the assistant coach tricked into losing his muscles. Chad summoned his remaining strength to stand up, his now baggy boxers falling down to his ankles in the process. "Okay?", he peeped angrily, "all my muscles are gone. You'll pay for this!". He weakly stepped toward the desk, abandoning his boxers on the floor. "Pay?", Tyler said laughingly and sat up atop the desk. His amazing eight-pack hardened in a display of striated muscles separated by deep grooves by the movement. He placed his paws on his hips, making his shoulders explode with more striations and veins beneath his paper-thin tanned skin. Even sitting down atop the desk, he was a full head taller than the drained gymnast. "Give my muscles back or you'll regret this", Chad spat while he stopped in front of the huge football player that dwarfed him completely. Tyler couldn't help but grin at the scene: an emaciated, childish looking boy that stands up to his own, muscle-packed body. The difference between them couldn't have been bigger: the gymnast just below 100 pounds without a single trace of visible muscle and himself, pushing 240 pounds of ripped muscle jutting from his frame. "I get you're not happy", he said. "Cut the crap", Chad interrupted the way bigger man, "Give my muscles back or else". He poked his bony finger into the protruding rack of muscle atop the footballer's chest, unable to dent the hard surface. "Easy there, little guy. Don't hurt yourself", Tyler stated and bounced his pecs. The meaty mounds undulated and striations exploded across the wide surface. At the same time the huge muscles flexed, the device left on the desk by the assistant coach beeped. A crackling sound hung in the air again and a tingle went through Chad's finger touching the hard pec. Chad pulled back his finger in surprise. The next moment a sparkle formed on the electrode atop Tyler's chest, shot through the air and hit the electrode on the flat chest of Chad. "What…", Chad let out while a warm feeling crossed his chest. "No", Tyler said as more sparks shot from his chest into the gymnast's electrode. Instinctively, his mind urged him to get away. Still in full control of his huge muscles, he placed his hands atop the desk to get up. His triceps exploded into thick, horseshoe-shaped slabs at the back of his meaty arms as he began to get up. Chad saw the huge football player move and knew he didn't stand a chance against the guy. Automatically, he took a step closer and his frail hands groped the armpits of the huge athlete. Tyler blinked at the reaction of the emaciated guy. He got ready to shove him aside. The second the frail hands made contact with his armpits an electric discharge came over his huge body. His vision went dark for a split second. "Ughn", Chad moaned. The second he made contact with the huge body, a huge spark shot into him. A now steady flow of big sparks shot from the electrode on the footballer's meaty chest into the one atop his own flat chest. Through his hands he felt the reserve of power left in Tyler's body waiting to be drained. "Oh yeah, give it back", he grunted while he felt his muscles inflating again. "No, no", Tyler pleaded and tried to get away. Somehow his body, still 130 pounds bigger than the gymnast, was frozen by the draining. "You don't deserve my muscle", Chad grunted as another jolt of growth went through him. "What is going on in here?" Assistant coach Mr. Blake returned to his office with the clothes for the improved Tyler and noticed the scene. He saw the runty boy standing in front of the elite athlete he'd created earlier, the boy's stick-like arms and hands holding the armpits of the huge guy and the sparks flying from the huge man into the frail boy. "Stop immediately", he yelled, tossed the clothes down and rushed over to his desk. He grabbed the device and looked at the screen. "Transfer engaged!", he read off the screen . His fingers frantically touched the screen to end the process. "Please wait", the device peeped in response. "Yeah, feels so good", Chad groaned as the warmth filled his entire body. He had taken back a good 25 of the 50 pounds he'd lost earlier. He tightened his grip some more in the armpits. The second he tightened his grip, the flow of sparks increased momentarily as if he pushed the energy from Tyler's muscles out. "Get away from him. I need him on the field", assistant coach Mr. Blake screamed at the growing gymnast. He tossed the device back on his chair and moved in to get the small guy away from his athlete. "Stop. Please Chad, stop", Tyler pleaded once more. He could feel his newly grown muscle lose their size with every spark that shot from his shrinking chest. Still, he's unable to move, his still big muscles refusing every command. His mind fighting against the theft to maintain his new size. Chad opened his eyes and stared directly at the assistant coach. "Back off you", he boomed angrily, "I'm taking back what's mine." Another wave of growth flowed over him, giving him back 40 of his 50 lost pounds. Mr. Blake froze in his tracks by the harsh command. He realized it actually made sense: it was an experimental device so the transfer wasn't stable and the muscle were simply returning to their owner. He stared back at the growing gymnast to notice that the guy is back to his old size. He blinked as he saw the transfer continuing: sparks still kept shooting from his football player into the other athlete. Chad looked down at his body and a smirk formed on his face. "Yeah! I'm getting bigger than I was", he groaned in pleasure, "Give me more!". He grabbed the armpits even tighter, his stronger fingers now slightly denting the softening muscle under his grip and the flow of sparks increasing again for a moment. Tyler stared in horror at the swelling gymnast in front of him. He saw his torso grow with every bread the guy took: his heaving chest swelled beyond its previous size as more mass gathered in the thickening pecs; his shoulders widened as his delts kept rounding; his arms got thicker as the energy pumped into the growing biceps and triceps; the defined stomach was turning into a nice six-pack that rippled and flexed on the rhythm of the gymnast's breathing; even the guy's legs were amassing size and definition. He felt the guy's fingers putting more pressure on his armpits. "Ah", he grunted as more power escaped his body. "Told ya I would make ya pay", Chad growled as more sparks shot into his body. He threw back his head in bliss as he felt his muscles harden and grow bigger and bigger. "Keep feeding my muscles!", he gritted between his teeth and hardened his hold some more, his fingers now digging into the softening flesh of the armpits. Assistant coach Mr. Blake stared in disbelief at the scene: the gymnast was now a good 20 pounds heavier than before he'd lost his muscles and matched Tyler's current weight pound for pound. Both of the athletes now looked like swimmers. He blinked a few times as he would have sworn that Chad wasn't only growing more muscular but also getting taller. Tyler looked down at his own body, inhaling sharply as he saw his diminished size: he was now a good 25 pounds lighter than before he'd drained Chad's muscles, looking like he did in his freshman year. He looked back at the swelling gymnast before him and took in the guy's new size: the guy's sweaty pecs now protruding several inches from his chest; his wide shoulders forming a strong line capped with nicely rounded delts and topped with slowly mounting traps; his six-pack hardening with every breath, rippling with grooves between the individual abs; his arms getting thicker as the bicep inflate upward and the triceps downward; the forearms leading to his armpits hardening with corded muscles. He was struck by the perfect symmetry of the ever growing muscles. He looked further up the nice body and stared into the gymnast's icy blue eyes to see the desire to grow bigger, the urge for more muscle. He felt his own mind weaken the resistance against the theft of his own muscles. Chad stared back into the football player's brown eyes. He noticed the change in the athlete's gaze: the panic of losing his muscles and the fight against the theft were mixing with amazement. "Fuck. More", he grunted as the steady flow of sparks kept shooting into him. Tyler blinked as he realized that the tables turned definitively: the swelling gymnast matched his weight pound for pound but immediately surpassed him. The difference was barely visible at first, but increased with every passing second. His eyes roamed across the growing muscles, shiny with sweat. He felt the thumbs of the paws holding him, digging into the once hard surface of his flattening pecs. The perfect symmetry of the gymnast, now looking more like a very well-trained fitness model, took his breath away for a split second. The split second that was enough to chase the last resistance from his mind and replace it with the awe of muscular perfection in the making. "Get… bigger", he said, "take more". A grin formed on Chad's face at the remark of the weakening footballer player in his grasp. The moment the athlete gave up his resistance, the flow of sparks thickened to twice its size. "FUark", Chad snarled as the increased flow shot into him. The warmth exploded exponentially across his swelling body. All of his muscles jolted up in size at once, making him jump over 200 pounds. Assistant coach Mr. Blake couldn't believe the sight: his star player, a hulking guy moments earlier now looked like a small gymnast while the former gymnast now surpassed the other guy's original size. Unlike Tyler earlier, Chad's body wasn't showing any signs of slowing down its growth, nor did Chad wince in pain like Tyler before. Tyler now looked with lust-filled eyes at the swelling guy in front of him. The guy now looked like an amateur bodybuilder, the hard muscles under his paper-thin skin radiating power and strength. He had never had any feelings for a guy before, but now Tyler was unable to tear his gaze away from the heavily muscled body that kept growing. "Look at you… so big… so beautiful", he mumbled, "Take my muscles". His dick started hardening inside his boxers. "YEAH", Chad barked while he tightened his grip under the armpits and pushed more sparks from the football player into his own body. The muscle beneath his fingers couldn't resist his power anymore and was easily dug in by his force. The athlete in his grasp now looked like an ordinary 120 pound guy while his own body grew towards pro-bodybuilder proportions. He lifted the guy from the desk and held him up in the air, marveling at how light the melting athlete felt. Tyler felt the superior man lift him and felt like a ragdoll in his grasp. His feet dangled in the air and he gazed at the veins snaking along the thick forearms that supported him easily. He felt his now too big boxers sink down, revealing his hard cock that pointed straight to the growing gymnast. He didn't care: lust to see the man's big body grow more perfect filled his mind. He saw a fourth row of abs appear to transform the six-pack into an intimidating eight-pack carved with deep grooves below the now proudly protruding masses of meat atop the guy's ever swelling chest; the wide, perfectly rounded delts capped his shoulders that lent him an awesome v-taper; the upper arms beefed up further and further as more mass hardened the biceps and triceps while veins fed the big muscles. "Wow", he muttered weakly while a jolt went through his 7 inch cock. "Lusting after my body?", Chad asked smugly as he saw the guy's rock-hard cock pointing at his hardening chest. "Feed me more", he added and pushed more sparks into his body. He felt his own cock slowly coming to life between his now heavily muscled quads. His body grew past the 220 pound mark, making him 100 pounds heavier than the guy in his grasp. He looked down at his now magnificent body, marveling at how his pecs protruded thickly from his chest and obscured the top of his fantastic eight-pack and grinning at the new size of his intimidating arms. "Look at me grow! Look at my muscles growing bigger than ever!", he boomed. Assistant coach Mr. Blake stared at the gymnast that now looked like a heavyweight bodybuilder and still his growth didn't show any signs of slowing down. The guy oozed power and masculinity as he effortlessly held the diminished football player up. His own dick hardened in his pants. He fished it out and began stroking it. Chad caught the movement and smirked. "Beat off at the sight of my huge muscles!", he bellowed at the assistant coach. His own cock was now at full mast, reaching its 5 inches. It throbbed and swelled a bit in length and girth. Tyler's cock throbbed in response but lost some of its size. He couldn't have cared less: the spectacle of the man growing into muscular perfection before him and the lust for his swelling muscles filled his mind completely. He looked again into the icy blue eyes and saw the absolute craving for size and the determination to grow huge. "Take it all", he mumbled, "grow huge, Chad". "Give it all", Chad retorted and dug his strong fingers into the soft, jelly-like muscles. "YEAh", he groaned as more sparks fed his new size. His shoulders hardened further, his delts turning into perfectly rounded cannonballs; his traps mounded higher, thickening his neck to bull-size; his arms muscled up, his thick biceps pushing up a network of veins and his triceps jutting out sharply; his forearms expanded as the corded muscles turned into steely cables; his pecs amassed an extra layer of muscle and formed armor-like plates atop his wide chest; his eight-pack rippled as the grooves deepened between the hard abs; his formerly strong yet lanky legs grew in accordance with his torso: his quads rivaled young trees in size and his calves turned into diamond-shaped hardness; his back was turning into a broad landscape were mounds of hard meat flowed into each other while his expanding lats highlighted his awesome v-taper further. Another jolt went through his cock, making it swell to 6 inches. "Our…cocks are… the same size", Tyler let out. "Not any more", Chad replied while a new throb sent his cock to 6'5 inches and diminished Tyler's to 5'5 inches. The guy in his arms began looking emaciated as his body sank below 100 pounds. His own majestic body grew past 235 pounds. "FUARk", he boomed while his cock grew past 7 inches and sent Tyler's down below 5 inches. He could feel the drain slowing down and saw the flow of sparks thinning. "Give it all!", he said and shook the frail body in his strong paws back and forth. "Ughn", Tyler peeped as he rocked back and forth violently. His fully erect cock throbbing in the air, sinking down below 4 inches in the process. Chad scanned the bony body in his grasp: every trace of muscle has been drained from it into him. "I'll take your tan too", he grunted and saw the nice tan vanish from the runt and the final sparks shooting into his chest turn his skin deeply tanned. "YEAH!!", he bellowed and his now 9 inch cock erupted in a geyser of thick, sticky cum that splattered hard atop the frail body in front of him. Tyler peeped as the hurricane of cum hit his 87 pound body. The force of the impact forced the air from his lungs and within seconds his entire torso was coated in the hot juices of the superior man. The sticky fluid slid along his flat stomach, down over his frail 3 inch cock and further down along his stick-like legs. The sight of the hulking man sent him over the edge and making a watery load of cum leak from his pencil-thin cock and mix with the thick juices dripping along his body. Assistant coach Mr. Blake was stroking his cock vigorously with his right hand and the heavyweight bodybuilder-like stud creaming the fallen football star sent him over the edge too: his cock spewed a load onto his desk. Three more smaller blasts followed the first. A beeping sound tore his attention to his left hand. "Transfer complete", the device let out and shut itself down.
  6. Herald

    The muscle app (3)

    Three Chad inhaled deeply as the most intense orgasm of his life slowly dissolved from his new grown body. He tossed the limp, cum-soaked body of the drained football player in his grasp down to the ground. He yanked the electrode from his own massive chest and threw it atop the desk. He tramped over to the door, stopped at the pile of clothes the assistant coach had brought in earlier and put them on. He marveled at the tightness of the sweatpants and enjoyed how they hugged his thickly muscled legs. The tank top protested with tearing noises as the massive muscles of his torso stretched it to its limits. He looked back and grinned: the assistant coach stood panting at his desk, recovering from his orgasm and Tyler was passed out on the floor in a pool of cum. He threw open the door and left, not caring about the two lesser men. Assistant coach Mr. Blake slowly regained control of his senses. He had seen the now huge gymnast leave but the effects of his overwhelming orgasm caused by the erotic scene had prevented him from moving or speaking. Only now he realized he was holding his deflating cock in his right hand and noticed the cum spread across his desk. Embarrassment spread through him and he quickly put his dick back in his boxers and zipped up his pants. "Tyler!", he said while he saw the emaciated guy lying on the floor before his desk. Tyler grunted. He heard someone call his name and opened his eyes. It seemed like he returned from being fast asleep. He blinked his eyes a few times before realizing he was on the floor. "Coach?", he mumbled weakly as he recognized the figure standing at the desk and looking down on him. "Can you get up?", Mr. Blake asked. Tyler nodded and stood up very slowly. His body felt completely worn out as if he had gone through the hardest training ever. He grabbed the desk for support to prevent his wobbly legs from giving out. "What the…", he peeped in his now high-pitched girlish voice while he looked down at his body. His entire torso was coated in a thick layer of sticky spunk that dripped down. He gasped when he comprehended what had happened. "He… took it all. How?", he mumbled at the assistant coach. Mr. Blake hit a few buttons on the device and began reading through the data. "I think when you drained his muscles, your body reached its natural limits. That's why your growth slowed down and your muscles hurt at the end", he said and continued reading, "There was still some excess energy left in the electrode on your chest. Energy waiting to be used. When Chad touched your body the excess energy returned to the muscles it came from and somehow the transfer restarted." "But why didn't he stop growing?", Tyler peeped in response. "Seems like his body's limits weren't met yet", assistant coach Mr. Blake replied. "I have to get my muscles back. I can't do anything on the field like this. I look like a boy", Tyler cried out and tears filed his eyes. "We'll find a way to get your muscles back, son. I'll talk to Chad. Get cleaned up first and get some rest", assistant coach Mr. Blake said and gently tore the electrode from Tyler's flat chest. He placed the two electrodes and the device in the top drawer of his desk and locked it. Tyler walked over to the locker room, carefully looking around. He sighed in relief to find it empty and went into the shower area, avoiding to look at his reflection in the mirror. He turned on the shower and let the hot water rinse the sticky cum from his body. The thick goo that had begun drying and crusting, resisted the water and it took him half an hour to get the last remnants off. He turned off the shower, grabbed a towel and went back into the locker room. He turned around the corner and bumped into two guys coming into the shower zone. The impact sent him down on his ass. "Watch it, squirt!", one of the guys snarled. "Who let the chess team in?", the other one said laughingly. Tyler caught back up and recognized the two: it were 2 freshmen football players he'd given some workout pointers the past weeks. They had practically begged him to help them, proud that one of the team stars let them train with him. Now, the two 165 pound guys dwarfed him. "Sorry", he peeped and retreated into the locker room, happy they hadn't recognized him. He put on some old freshman's clothes, ignoring how they hung from him like a tent and having to hold the pants up when he went to his room. The next morning Tyler awoke by the sound of his phone. He grabbed it and read the message Tom just sent: "Hope you're busting your ass to win the game. Back in the gym in two weeks." Tears welled up in his eyes as Tyler thought of the good times he'd lived on and off the field with Tom. He'd do anything to get his muscles back. He decided to go talk to Chad. The guy had accidentally taken his muscles as a result of the first transfer. The guy was probably just as upset as he was. He would convince the gymnast to give back his muscles and let things go back to normal. A knock on the door tore him from his thoughts. He opened the door and saw a box. He took it, his thin arms shaking from the effort, closed the door and put the box on his bed. He opened it and read the note. "Some clothes that will fit. Trying to figure out to get your muscles back. Mr. Blake" Tyler took the clothes, more tears in his eyes as he saw that it were kid size pants, t-shirts and sweaters. He quickly put on some clothes, that still looked somewhat big on him and decided to go talk to Chad right away. He looked up the number of Chad's room in the online register and left. The walk took him to the other part of campus where the freshmen were housed. Tyler entered the building he'd stayed in a couple of years ago and took the stairs to the top floor where the athletes had their rooms. His heart was pounding in his flat chest and he was breathing heavily when he reached the top of the stairs. He walked through the long corridor, reading off the numbers on the doors. When he was midway the ill-lit hallway, two gorgeous female students came in his direction. He retreated against the wall, hoping they wouldn't see him. "Never had a guy that could go all night", the brunette said, "I came four times." "Me too", the blond one giggled in response, "And the size of him. Thought he would tear me open." "And his muscles. So big and hard", the brunette replied, "Even bigger than Tom". "Hope he's up for a repeat tonight", the blond one said, "Made me forget about Tyler in a flash. Who needs seniors when we have freshmen this size?". Tyler's face was beet red as he heard the girls' remarks. Chad had been fucking his and Tom's girl, the two hottest and most sought after cheerleaders in Orchid University. Perhaps he's not as upset as I thought, he said to himself as his gaze followed the two cheerleaders walking by and disappearing down the stairs. He waited another minute until their footsteps weren't hearable anymore. He continued his way and stepped over to the door of Chad's room. His heart beated in his throat when he knocked. He knocked a second time but got no reaction. His hand reached for the doorknob. He turned it and the door opened. At the same moment the door of the next room on the right opened. Tyler entered Chad's room instinctively and shut the door behind him. "Hello, Chad?", he asked as he looked around the deserted room. He heard water running in the adjacent bathroom. The smell of sweat, musk, cum and sex hung in the air. It filled his nose while he was standing in the middle of the room, staring at the bed. He could only imagine the things it had witnessed last night. The water stopped running in the bathroom. Tyler's mind filled with images of the two cheerleaders and Chad. Unaware of his surroundings, he stepped closer to the bed and inhaled sharply to take in more of the uber-masculine smell it emanated. A noise made him come back to reality and look aside to the door of the bathroom. "Well well. Look who's here", Chad rumbled in his deep voice. Tyler took a step back as the now massive gymnast stepped into the room, his wide shoulders brushing the doorframe. "I… euh… I…", he peeped but words died in his throat with the hulking guy standing a few feet away. Every bit of logic evaporated from his mind while his eyes travelled along the mighty torso his muscles had helped to create. Every mound of muscle of round and full, striated and crossed with veins beneath the paper-thin skin. The perfectly round, cannonball-sized delts showed the separation between the different heads of the muscle and created a strong line that gave the guy an awesome broadness; his meaty traps capped the strong line and mounded up into his bull-sized neck; his thick arms hung relaxed at his sides, his biceps big and bulky beneath his skin with a large vein snaking along them with several smaller ones branching of across and into the mounds of muscle; his triceps jutted hard from the back of his arms, adding more thickness to them; his forearms crammed with corded muscles; the striated beef of his wide, round and full pecs protruded like armor-plates from his chest; his fantastic eight-pack rippled with every breath he took, highlighting the grooves separating the individual abs; beneath the towel wrapped around the tight waist the mass of his thick quads pressed against the fabric and the outline of his hefty cock was visible. The tan the gymnast had taken from Tyler looked better and more pronounced, giving the guy a near Latino-look and highlighting the definition of his massive muscles even more. Chad grinned smugly at the small guy's reaction. He noted the awe in his eyes and saw the bulge forming in the guy's sweatpants. "We both know what you want, little guy", he rumbled and dropped the towel. Tyler didn't hear the remark. He just couldn't fathom the incredible size and perfect symmetry the gymnast had grown into. Just yesterday the guy was among the smallest athletes with his 148 pounds, but now, with the 100 pounds of muscle and the foot of extra height he'd added to his frame, he radiated strength and masculinity. Lust for the fantastic body in front of him flooded Tyler's mind. Lust beyond anything he'd ever felt for the list of cheerleaders he'd dated. Lust that kept him from taking his eyes from the majestic muscles. A stirring movement tore his gaze down the mighty torso. He blinked his eyes in amazement as the meaty snake between the heavily muscled quads began swelling. Within seconds it sprang to its 9 inches and pointed at him. He looked up pleadingly into the icy blue eyes. Chad read the look of total submission in the runt's gaze, his own grin broadening. Tyler stepped forward and kneeled before the incredibly oversized gymnast. He stared at the fleshy snake right in front of his face. Veins coiled along the long and hefty shaft that pulsed on the rhythm of the guy's heartbeat. He took the thick, purple head in his mouth and slowly slid the cock inside. Chad rumbled in pleasure as the wet hotness slowly engulfed the sensitive skin of his 9 incher. He grabbed the back of the frail guy's head and shoved his cock fully inside the mouth. Tyler gagged as the fleshy snake invaded his mouth forcefully, his nose smacking into the bottom row of the hard eight-pack from the force of the gymnast's arm. His lips were stretched to their limits by the thickness of the hard shaft and the head hit the back of his throat. He placed his hands atop the heavily muscled quads for support. From his kneeling position the heavyweight bodybuilder-sized gymnast looked even bigger: his tight waist leading up to his insanely wide shoulders gave him an intimidating v-taper. He couldn't see anything past the thickly protruding shelf of pecs. His own 3 incher was now leaking pre-cum in his briefs. Chad held the back of the small head in his left hand and began thrusting his hips back and forth as he face fucked the fallen football star. "Mghn", he groaned as he felt the guy's tongue trace the veins along his engorged shaft. He felt all-powerful dominating the once fitness model-like athlete but now boyish runt who clearly lusted after his heavily muscled body. The feeling of sheer physical superiority made him feel unstoppable. A shudder went through his mighty body, his fantastic eight-pack flexed, a loud and deeply resonating moan escaped his mouth as an intense orgasm washed over him. "YEAUGHN", he roared as his heavy balls churned and rushed out a load of cum through his fully engorged 9 incher into the eager mouth. Tyler saw the strong abs flex before his eyes and felt the earthquake of pleasure wave through the hulking man. The deep resounding roar vibrated down his own puny body like thunder. He felt the fleshy snake jolt in his mouth and it filled his mouth in a flash, some of the excess liquid leaked from the corner of his mouth. He gulped the creamy spunk down as fast as he could but the snake already spat out a second blast when only half of the first load had been gulped down. He gagged as cum now steadily flowed from the corner of his mouth onto the base of the 9 incher. He tried breathing through his nose but cum also flowed from it. His own pencil dick released its load into his briefs. "YEAUGhn", Chad rumbled once more as his balls shot out a third thick load. Despite the long night with the two hottest cheerleaders on campus, his orgasm didn't wear down. The huge amount of testosterone flowing through his 248 pound, muscle-packed body gave him an unmatched stamina. Another moan escaped his mouth as a fourth load rushed from his cock. He felt the sticky juice slide along the base of his shaft and onto his balls and drip onto his huge quads. Tyler couldn't even gag anymore: his mouth was overfilled with the sticky spunk that now streamed thickly from the corners of his mouth onto the mighty cock; an identical amount flowed from his nose. By the fifth blast, cum even leaked from his ears as the liquid sought an exit from his overstuffed mouth. He felt his stomach bloat from the insane amount of semen filling it. He tried freeing himself from the 9 incher but the paw at the back of his head easily held him in place. His own 3 incher kept leaking the watery content of his small balls into his soaked briefs. A wet patch began forming at the front of his sweatpants as the liquid leaked through his briefs. He feebly pushed against the mighty quads but his entire body was no match for the heavyweight bodybuilder-sized gymnast's right arm. Chad felt the weak attempts of the fallen football player against his grasp. The realization that one of his arms was now stronger than the former number two of the football team sent another rush of power from his mind through his huge body. "FUUUUAAAAAARK!", he bellowed as his orgasm intensified even more. A sixth and seventh load were rushed out off his balls nearly at the same time. The force of the combined blasts pushed his 9 incher from the overstuffed mouth and coated the boyish guy's face with the final part of the seventh load. Even only the last third of that blast was enough the cover most of the guy's face. Tyler didn't even have time to blink his eyes as the fleshy snake pushed itself from his mouth: one moment it was adding to his overstuffed mouth, the next it covered nearly his entire face in a layer of liquid heat. Another shot hit his face, the sticky goo splattering against his nose and forehead, coating the rest of his face and some of his hair. He felt the paw release the back of his head and his body fell backwards, worn out by the force of the hulking gymnast's orgasm. Chad breathed in heavily, his mighty chest heaving, as the orgasm faded from his sweaty, muscle-crammed body. A faint thud made him look down. The smug grin returned on his face at the sight: at his feet the depleted athlete was lying on his back, his face and hair drenched with cum and an obvious wet stain on the front of his kid size sweatpants. After three deep breaths, Chad's body felt fully recovered. Tyler wiped the thick spunk from his eyes and slowly sat up. He looked up and saw some last hefty drips leak from the slowly deflating cock between the thick quads. His gaze travelled further up along the deep canyon in the center of the majestic eight-pack, over the meaty slabs that formed the armor plate-like chest into the icy blue eyes of the 6'2, 248 pound gymnast. His own flat chest was still heaving as his 5', 87 pound body was still recovering from the experience. His nose was invaded by the odor of the hulking man's sweaty musk mixed with the stench of his cum that filled the room. "Seems like you enjoyed that even more than me", Chad growled as he began putting on some clothes. "Can't wait to see what this body can do in the gym", he said and walked to the door, "Clean up your mess and get lost". It appeared that Chad's body could do a lot: he tore through the exercises, breaking every record in the gym. His loud grunts and shouts chased whatever other students from the gym, except for the two freshmen that used to train with Tyler. They offered to spot the massive guy and followed him from exercise to exercise, marveling at the amount of weight he was using. "8…9…10", Chad grunted and racked the bar on the bench press with the combined help of the two 165 pound athletes. "Fuck, man. Three sets of ten reps with 500 pounds", they said in disbelief as the huge guy sat up on the bench, "Why did you transfer in here for senior year?". Chad laughed at the remark, his pumped chest making tears in his tight tank top. "I'm new here. Freshman like you guys", he replied, "I'm in the room next to yours". The two football players couldn't believe their ears. The biggest guy they'd ever seen was their age. "Sure explains those noises last night", one of them said. "Most of those came from the two cheerleaders", Chad answered with a smug grin, "Ya guys should have come over to join the action." Before the guys could react, assistant coach Mr. Blake appeared in the gym and called out to them: "Chad could you join me in my office?". "Catch ya later guys", Chad said and strutted away from the bench into the office. "What's up, Mr. B?", he asked as he shut the door and faced the assistant coach. Assistant coach Mr. Blake cleared his throat, trying to hide the intimidation from the huge athlete before his desk. "Well eum… Chad.. you see…", he mumbled, "you took Tyler's muscles by accident…". "Took back what he stole from me", Chad interrupted, "Not my fault that his weak body couldn't resist being drained into me". "I'm not blaming you", assistant coach Mr. Blake said quickly, "It was an accident like I said. We could settle things back to normal. Give Tyler his muscles back so he can play and you can go back to gymnastics". "I'm not giving up my muscles", Chad barked back. "Well… I see…", assistant coach Mr. Blake let up as his mind tried to come up with a solution, "Why don't you join the football team then? You could become our new star. Look at you. You would be unstoppable on the field". "Not interested", Chad replied, "I'm feeling more for bodybuilding. Don't ya think this body would like great on stage, Mr. B?". He ripped off his tank top and revealed his heavily muscled torso. His pumped pecs protruded thickly from his chest. He hit a most muscular, making his pecs explode with striations and his meaty arms dig into the protruding mass. Assistant coach Mr. Blake's mouth went dry at the scene. His eyes widened to saucers at the display of raw strength. Chad noticed the awe in the assistant coach's eyes while he relaxed his pose and his right hand felt the weight of his pecs. "Get over here, little man", he said, "And worship my muscles". Assistant coach Mr. Blake instinctively obeyed the huge man's command. He got up from his chair, stepped around the desk and stopped in front of the hulking athlete. He raised his shaking hands and placed them onto the protruding rack. "Wow", he muttered as he felt like he was touching hot concrete. His fingers couldn't dent the fully relaxed, yet rock-hard meat underneath the paper-thin, tanned skin. "Feel my awesome power", Chad growled as he enjoyed the feeling of being worshipped. He flexed his pecs, making them harden under the frail touch. Assistant coach Mr. Blake's eyes widened in disbelief as the meaty chest exploded with striations and veins and pushed his hands open. His dick instantly creamed his boxers, making his body shudder. He fell back with his ass against the desk. Chad grinned at the reaction and threw a double bicep pose. His arms exploded into perfectly round, 24 inch orbs of hard meat crisscrossed with veins. "Fuck yeah" he growled as he hardened his flex and felt the huge muscle stretch his tanned skin. He grabbed the assistant coach's shirt, lifted him and tossed him atop the desk with his back facing the ceiling. Before assistant coach Mr. Blake could react, he felt his pants and boxers being yanked down. He heard the huge athlete pull down his own sweatpants and felt the thick head of the man's cock brush against his ass. "No, please", he mumbled. Chad didn't listen. He grabbed the assistant coach's hip with his left paw and rammed his 9 incher inside the man's ass. "Ugh", assistant coach Mr. Blake cried out as his clenched defenses were destroyed and the fleshy snake stretched his ass. He grabbed the end of his desk for support, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grasp. The pain prevented him from speaking. Chad kept his left paw on the other man's hip and placed his right paw casually on his own hip as he began pumping away. His eight-pack rippled on the rhythm of his thrusts. Faster and harder. He pumped his dick in and out like a jackhammer, plowing and destroying the clamping ass. Within a minute orgasm flooded his mighty body and his dick filled the ass. Assistant coach Mr. Blake grunted in pain as his insides were flooded with the huge man's spunk. His own cock leaked another load against the side of his desk. The pressure in his ass kept building and cum was now steadily flowing out of it along the shaft. After a good seven loads Chad's orgasm cooled down and he pulled his cock from the worn out ass. A thick flow of his cum followed. He pulled up his pants and left.
  7. Herald

    The muscle app (1)

    One "Looking good, man. Someone's trained his ass off during summer". Tyler pulled the tight shirt over his head and turned around to see Tom the star quarterback strut into the locker room. The two of them had led the football team to victory last year and now, during their senior year, they were ready for a repeat. "I wish I had abs like yours", Tom said as came over to his buddy. Tyler grinned. Even though they were both straight and had been dating the hottest cheerleaders for months, they admired each other's well-trained bodies. Tyler was proud of his physique: at 6 feet and weighing 187 pounds of muscle, he was the number two on the team. His chiseled face and low body fat gave him the natural looks of a fitness model. He flexed his abs, making the rows of muscle harden some more. His tanned skin adding depth to the grooves of his six-pack. "Wow", Tom uttered playfully. "No match for my size, though", he added as he took off his own shirt and bounced his heavy pecs. He totally outsized his roommate: standing 6'5, he towered over the guy and outweighed him by a good 55 pounds. "243 pounds of beef since last week", he said and flexed his nearly 20 inch arms. "Big but not ripped like me", Tyler replied and pointed at his teammate's muscle gut. The strong, yet rounded abs were covered with some fat. "Difference between a man and a pretty boy", Tom stated, "The ladies like 'em big and hairy". He smiled down at the smaller guy as he played with the fur atop his meaty chest. "Let's go to the gym like coach told us", he added as he got into his workout gear and swaggered over to the gym. When the two stars of the football team entered the university's gym, a guy in his late twenties looked in their direction and came over. "You must be Tom and Tyler", he said, "I'm Mister Blake, the new assistant coach charged with the lifting program. Seems like you guys didn't waste summer on partying." Tom and Tyler grinned. "What do you want us to do? I'm eager to throw some weight around", Tom said. "How about some chest?", the assistant coach stated and followed his star athletes to the bench press. The personal workout routines worked wonders for the team that went on a victory scroll. During the eight match Tom got injured and would be out for two weeks, risking to lose the game against their big rivals. The day after Tom's injury, Tyler was asked to join the assistant coach in his office. "Seems like you'll be leading the team", Mr. Blake said as Tyler sat down before his desk, "Are you up for it?". "I guess so", Tyler replied, "It won't be easy to fill Tom's shoes. The guy's a beast on the field. I mean he's more than 50 pounds bigger than me." "What if I could make you as big?", the assistant coach asked matter-off-factly. "I'm not taking steroids", Tyler stated. "Come on, son. Like steroids could make you grow 50 pounds of muscle till our next game. I'm talking about this", Mr. Blake said and took a small phone from his desk. "Something a good friend of mine working for the army sent me. It can tap into the electric pulses of the muscles and transfer it into another person. Still very experimental." Tyler looked incredulously at the device. "Transfer muscle? Sounds pretty insane to me. Besides, who would agree to give up his muscle?". "Let me worry about that", the assistant coach answered, "So, ready to grow really big? Big like Tom and dominate on the field?". Tyler still doubted but his desire to grow big chased the caution from his mind. He nodded. A smile formed on Mr. Blake's face. He got up, walked to the door and let another guy enter his desk. He locked the door and returned to his chair. "Tyler, this is Chad one of the top gymnasts of Orchid University. He's agreed to join the muscle stimulation project. Good, guys take off your shirts and pants." Tyler stood up and noticed he totally outsized the gymnast. Being 6 feet himself, the 5'2 athlete came up to his chin; his 187 pound of ripped muscle eclipsed the guy's 148 pounds. He was surprised by the size of the guy's torso: the gymnast's shoulders rivaled his own in width and the guy's thick arms seemed just a tad bigger than his own 16,5 inchers. "Miring my torso", Chad asked with a smirk and casually flexed his right arm. "17 inches", he said, "biggest guns on the team". Tyler was taken aback by the guy's cockiness. Usually smaller guys, especially freshmen like Chad, were easily intimidated by his body. This obviously wasn't the case with the gymnast. Tyler looked at the guy's boyish face. "Right, guys. Let's get started", the assistant coach intervened. He placed an electrode on Tyler's chest and one on Chad's. "You might feel a mild tingling sensation", he added and activated the 'muscle-app' on the device. "Feels funny", Chad said, "Like a tickle in my muscles". "Yeah", Tyler replied. Suddenly a mild crackling sound was audible as if static electricity hung in the air. A small spark shot from Chad's chest, flew through the air and shot into the electrode on Tyler's chest who was standing in front of the coach's desk. "What's happening?", Chad yelled out as more sparks left his body. "Oh yeah", Tyler grunted as the sparks now shot like small lightning bolts into his chest. Warmth spread through his body and he felt his muscles suck in the energy. He leaned back, scattering the objects atop the desk as he laid down to let warmth and energy fill his body. "I'm getting smaller", Chad peeped in horror as he felt a strange weakness come over him. He looked down and saw his well-trained torso slowly melting away. He tried to get away, but the weakness in his limbs prevented him from moving. More sparks escaped his body as his muscles condensed into energy, flew through air and shot into the footballer. "Oh yeah", Tyler grunted again as another wave of energy hit him. He felt his muscle swell and harden under his skin, like a pump after a hard workout. Mr. Blake stared in awe at the growing athlete atop his desk. Veins appeared all over the footballer's heavily muscled body and transferred the energy directly into his hardening muscles. His skin stretched as it adapted to the increasing size of the growing muscles underneath. His athlete's body now was at least 25 pounds heavier than before, making him look like an amateur bodybuilder. Tyler had closed his eyes in pleasure, enjoying the feeling of his growing muscles stretching his skin. "Oh fuck, yeah", he groaned as the electric sparkles kept raining down in the electrode atop his swelling chest that grew higher with every passing second. Chad felt his body weaken with every spark that escaped him. He was now down below 120 pounds and getting scrawnier and scrawnier. His mind kept fighting against the transfer, his natural aggression trying to form a barrier against the theft. He felt nothing but hate as he stared at the growing man atop the desk. Mr. Blake couldn't take his eyes from the gradually enlarging athlete. The sparks now formed a small, nearly transparent cloud above the football player that shot lightning bolts of power into the electrode. "Ah", Tyler's moans got a faint painful dimension as the pleasant warmth in his body began turning into a burning sensation in all his muscles. By now, he had gained 40 pounds of muscle. His meaty shoulders stuck out from the sides of the desk, his wide back making him broader than the desk; his thick arms closing in on 20 inches while they hung relaxed at his sides; his pecs formed two meaty plates rising up atop his chest; his abs had grown into an eight-pack; his legs thickened to support his new size as they hung down from the desk, their bulk making his boxers slide upward. The pain in his body, a mild burning sensation as if he'd trained too long, intensified and got more painful as more energy kept shooting down into the electrode. A beeping sound tore the assistant coach's attention from his growing athlete to the device in his hand. "Subject reaching natural limits" he read from the screen. "AH", Tyler let out a louder, more painful grunt. The pain in his body was getting unbearable. His muscles began developing a red blush under his tight skin, crossed with stretch marks as it was pulled tightly around the hard meat underneath. Spasms shot through his mighty torso as energy kept flowing into him. The cloud hanging above his thick chest got darker with every jolt that flew into it from Chad's weakening body. The sparks still shot down into the electrode but the excess energy crackles around it as the footballer's body seems unable to absorb it all. "Euh… no… more… please", Tyler groans in pain as it feels like his entire body is cramping up. The assistant coach hears the pleads and tries to end the transfer. He pushes the app to deactivate the device. "ERROR", the screen announced and a blinding flash fills the room.
  8. Herald

    The muscle frat (8)

    Eight The next morning Tristan was wolfing down his breakfast when Mark walked into the kitchen. "Ready for some training, T.?", the wrestler asked as he sat down in front of the huge teen and dug into a big bowl of cereal. "Can't wait to toss your frail body around", Tristan replied with a grin and shrugged his shoulders, making striations explode across his wide, perfectly round delts. Mark took in the display of male dominance and emptied his bowl. "I'll grab my gear and meet ya in the locker room", he said and got up. In the locker room, Brad was getting ready for his morning workout. He'd just put on his workout gear when he heard the door open. "Hi, Brad" Brad turned around and saw Mark, the heavyweight wrestle champ entering. "'sup", he replied. "In for some practice", Mark said as he went to his locker and put his bag in front of it while he unlocked it. "Who's the victim?", Brad asked as he tossed his towel over his shoulder and locked his locker. "Oh", Mark began but was cut off by the opening door. "Ya're already here", Tristan said as he entered and saw the heavyweight wrestler. "Bro?", he asked as he noticed his older brother in the center of the room. Brad stared in horror at his massive brother who seemed to fill the entire locker room with his presence. "You guys are brothers?", Mark let out incredulously. "Yeah. He's 3 years older than me. But you wouldn't say", Tristan said smugly and stepped up to his brother. Brad gulped as his younger brother towered over him. "I guess I have the good genes. Don't ya agree, bro?", Tristan said playfully and put his right paw atop his brother's bare shoulder. A hint of disappointment flickered in his eyes as no tingling sensation brook out. "Mind if I pass and get to the gym?", Brad said as deeply as possible. "Good idea, bro. You need to grow a bit to be a real man", Tristan replied and put some pressure on his brother's muscular shoulder. Brad felt his brother's fingers dig into his delts and his knees buckled a bit from the force. He summoned every ounce of strength not to sink to the ground. "Don't want to disturb you ladies but I'ld like to get some practice in", Mark said. "Catch ya later, bro", Tristan said to Brad as he let go of his shoulder and turned to the wrestler. Brad headed over into the gym for his morning workout, hurrying to get away from his brother. "You have a singlet, T.?", Mark asked while he grabbed his customized blue singlet from his locker. "Nope", Tristan stated, "why don't we wrestle in our boxers?". He took off his hoodie and pulled off his shirt. "Fine", Mark replied and put his singlet back inside his locker and stripped down to his boxers. He turned aside and gulped as he noticed how the beastly teen outsized him in every department. "Still want to go through with this?", Tristan asked mockingly while he compared their bodies: Mark's 220 pound frame was filled with thick muscles but also carried a certain amount of fat that gave him a bulky look; his own 300 pound body was a living anatomy chart with insanely ripped muscles that rippled with every breath he took. "Let's do this", Mark said and led the teen beast over into the wrestle hall. Tristan followed the heavyweight wrestle champ and stopped in the center of the mat as instructed. He looked at his 220 pound training partner who faced him from a few feet away. He nodded as Mark explained the basic rules. "Ready, T.?", Mark asked as he took a defensive position. "Bring it on, little guy", Tristan replied. He was surprised by the swift attack of his opponent and felt the guy's hand grabbing his neck before he could react. He braced his thick legs for support and his right paw grabbed the champ's neck while his left hand interlocked with the guy's left hand. Mark instantly felt the beastly teen's incredible force and flexed his heavily muscled quads to withstand the counterattack. His strong left arm was being pushed back by his opponent's 30 inch arm. He jumped backward to free himself and took a few deep breaths to control his breathing. "What have I gotten myself into?", he thought as he kept his gaze on his huge opponent. "Running away?", Tristan asked as the champ retreated. He moved in on the heavyweight wrestler. Mark anticipated the attack and dove under the paws that reached for him. He found himself inches from the teen beast and wrapped his 22 inch arms around the guy's torso in a bear hug. "Trapped?", he asked playfully and hardened his grip, veins exploding along his arms. "Ugh", Tristan let out in surprise as the strong arms hardened around his torso. "Guess again", he replied and lifted his thick arms up to easily break the grasp. Mark stumbled back in disbelief: until now, no one had ever broken free from his bear hug. He held up his hands in a defensive motion and thought about his next move. "My turn", Tristan growled and moved in on the heavyweight wrestler. Mark followed his huge opponent's moves, he knew he didn't stand a chance if the beastly teen could grab him. So he took a step back with every step the 300 pound Tristan made in his direction. As he turned in circles to maintain the distance, Mark felt his own breathing slow down and he also noted from the heaving of his opponent's protruding chest that Tristan wasn't used to training. "Tired, big guy?", he asked tauntingly. Tristan let out a low, vibrating grunt in response. "Quit dancing around and fight", he barked and moved in. Mark saw the teen beast slight lower his arms as he stepped toward him and made his move: he dodged the paws and moved swiftly behind his 300 pound opponent, his arms reaching underneath the perfectly round, cannonball-sized shoulders as his big hands reached for the back of the thickly muscled neck. "What the ...", Tristan said, surprised by the heavyweight wrestler's sudden move. Mark's hands joined together and he locked them hard, securing his full nelson atop the thick traps. "Gotcha", he said into the teen beast's ear. Tristan shrugged his shoulders, making his traps mound upward and budging against the hands locked behind his neck. He felt the grasp giving away against his meaty traps and repeated the process. Striations exploded across his wide shoulders as he shrugged them once more. Mark felt his grip being pushed apart and used every trick he'd learned over the past years, holding onto the beastly teen's neck with everything he got left. A wave of euphoria went through him as he managed to maintain his full nelson. His cock hardened a bit from the friction against the muscular lower back. "No fucking way", Tristan groaned as he tried getting free. He tried reaching for the heavyweight wrestler, but his 30 inch arms couldn't free him like before. No matter what he tried, his opponent refused to let go and was wearing him out. He felt the cock harden against his back, sending a responsive jolt through his own flaccid member as he slowly sank to his knees. "You give?", Mark asked in between fast breaths without releasing his hold. "I… yeah", Tristan replied. Instantly the arms let go of his neck and he laid down on his back on the mat, inhaling deeply to control his breathing. "Who's the champ?", Mark yelled and threw a double bicep pose. Excitement and adrenaline rushed through his body as he realized he'd just taken down an 80 pound heavier opponent. Tristan looked up at the heavyweight wrestler, noticing how his muscles glistened with sweat and the growing bulge inside the guy's boxers. He placed his hands aside his body and sat up, his thick triceps flexing in the process. "Congrats, man", he said, "I really thought I could take ya". "Yar strength is unreal, I felt it from the start. My experience handed me the win. If ya learn the moves, ya'll be unstoppable", Mark replied. His gaze travelled down to the growing bulge in the beastly teen's boxers. "Let's hit the showers", he said and extended his hand to help his 300 pound opponent get up. Tristan grabbed the hand and got up. He looked down into the 6 feet champ's eyes and before he could react, the guy kissed him on the lips. "What…", Tristan said as he broke the kiss. "I… ehr… sorry", Mark muttered as he looked up into the beastly teen's dark brown eyes, his heart pounding in chest as he realized the guy towered over him in height and width. "Tristan, I…", he began. "We both want this", Tristan said, grabbed the back of the heavyweight wrestler's head and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. Mark's eyes widened in surprise as his 220 pound body was pulled against the 300 pound beast and the tongue invaded his mouth. He returned the kiss and let his big hands roam the mounds of muscle that flowed into each other across the insanely wide back. The teen's thick pecs pushed into his own heavy chest and one of the guy's paws cupped his muscular ass. Black dots began dancing before his eyes as the beast kept kissing him. Tristan finally broke the kiss and took in a deep breath, making his protruding pecs dig into the harden against the wrestler's muscular ones. He felt his own dick grow to full hardness between their heavily muscled bodies along the 220 pound guy's rock-hard cock. "Fuck me", Mark moaned in pleasure as his hands grabbed the beefy biceps and tested the hardness of the beasty teen's relaxed arms. "I…", Tristan muttered and began blushing. "You're a virgin, aren’t ya?", Mark asked as he noted the shy reaction of the huge guy. Tristan nodded. "I mean… I had blowjobs before but never really", he rattled on and clenched his fists to make his bicep harden under the heavyweight wrestler's touch. Mark's rock-hard cock jolted in his boxers as the steely biceps pried open his hands. "You're cute when you blush, T.", he said, "And no worries: I've never been fucked before. We'll take things slowly". He ripped away his own boxers and did the same with the teen beast's boxers. Both their rock-hard cocks smacking against their abs as they were freed from their fabric prison. He kissed the 300 pound Tristan on the lips again and slowly leaned back, letting the teen beast gently lead him down on the wrestle mat. Tristan carefully laid the heavyweight wrestler with his back on the mat. He placed his knees aside his legs, positioned his elbows next to the guy's heavily muscled torso and kissed him once more as he was leaning over him. Their rock-hard cocks brushing against each other, sending shivers of bliss through their bodies. "Common, fuck me", Mark whispered in the teen's ear while he gently bit the earlobe and rubbed the hot surface of the thick pecs that hung over him. "Mhm", Tristan mounded and positioned the fat head of his 14 inch cock against the meaty ass of the heavyweight wrestler. "Here we go", he said as he very slowly drove his cock in between the ass cheeks. Mark's muscular back arched up from the mat as the thick head pushed passed his ass cheeks and slowly brushed against his hole. His hole clenched in anticipation. Tristan gently pushed further and let the head of his 14 incher enter the 220 pound athlete. "Umpf", Mark grunted in pleasure as the searing hot pole pushed past his defenses and invaded him teasingly slowly. His back arched further off the mat and his arms wrapped around the heavily muscled torso leaning over him, trapping his own rock-hard 10 incher between his bulky six-pack and the teen's ripped eight-pack. Tristan placed his paws against the wrestler's back and kept driving his lengthy snake inside him. Pleasure flowed through his 300 pound body as the tight ass engulfed his cock like a fleshy glove. Lightning bolt-like flashes crackled in Mark's vision as the 14 incher was completely inside him and the pubes of the teen beast's brushed his muscular ass. He felt like a ragdoll in the grasp of the hulking man and loved it: his cock was throbbing against the deeply grooved eight-pack while his hands groped the hard mass on the guy's broad back. Tristan began pumping his cock back and forth inside the clenching ass; slowly at first but faster and deeper as he seemed to gain more confidence. "UGHN", he bellowed as his balls exploded and his cock blasted a first load into the heavyweight wrestler. A spark of energy shot from the bottom of Mark's spine up into his head, exploding into a firework of white light as the beastly teen filled him with his seed. His own 10 incher exploded between their muscular bodies, covering their pecs and abs in his sticky juices. Tristan's orgasm lasted seven long, big blasts before wearing off. He gently withdrew from the 220 pound athlete and laid down next to him, his chest heaving from the orgasm. "Best sex I've ever had", Mark said and ruffled the 80 pound heavier guy's hair. He smiled as the beastly teen blushed once again. "Let's shower", he said and got up.
  9. godofjurai

    Symbiotic Bonding Part 07

    Merry Fucking Christmas! Enjoy guys! Previous Parts: -Part 01 - Part 02 - Part 03 - Part 04 - Part 05 - Part 06 - Part 07 While You Were Sleeping Matt sat down on his bed, lying back and rolling onto his side so he could have a great view of Andrew from across the room as he slept. He watched Andrew’s newly-built chest rise and fall as he breathed in deeply, pulling in oxygen into his now much larger chest, before letting it all out. Matt heard Andrew muttering under his breath. Words that were hard to make out, but they began to make him quiver with desire for reasons he did not understand. He continued to watch his smaller brother slumber, Andrew’s new body partially illuminated under the dim moonlight coming in through the window. It was just enough for Matt to see the curves of his twins new muscles. Andrew murmur’s in his sleep again, having an amazing dream from what Matt was noticing as he watched a new curve being arising. The part of the sheet over Andrew’s larger dick began to rise. Matt paused, not sure what to do next, but Andrew shifts in his sleep, kicking off part of the sheet, letting his new, big phallus spring free. Matt’s throat catches as he watches its silhouette wave back and forth, several inches off of his slumbering bro. His own dick stiffening, urging him towards the swinging metronome of Andrew’s penis. Andrew’s snores were loud, and very deep. He continued to toss and turn on his bed, getting into a more comfortable position, his arm going behind his head, exposing his deep murky pit. The exposure sending a bit of odor wafting out over his area of the room as it began to get stronger the longer it was out in the fresh air, moving towards Matt’s side of the room. His other hand went down to his larger, kiwi sized balls, as be scratched and pulled at them slightly. “Wa….e….” he mumbled. ‘….nt…m…” the words were low but commanding even in his sleep daze. Each time they began to get clearer and clearer. “Want me….” Matt finally hears the two words, loud and clear. Even though it was still almost a mutter under Andrew’s breath, Matt was able to understand those two words perfectly. He pushed aside his sheets, tossing his legs over the edge, and treading the several meters to his brother’s bed. Matt looks down at Andrew, noting how the dim moonlight highlights the strong, masculine body of his growing twin. His own cock throbs, and as he watches Andrew sleep he notices his brother’s does as well. As Andrew rolls over to his side, Matt decides to join him in bed, His legs at Andrew’s head, and vice-versa as they get into a 69 position. Matt looks straight ahead towards Andrew’s cock, gently scooting towards it, eager to have it push between his lips, into his mouth, and down his throat, but he needs to make sure not to wake his twin. The words mutter again “Want Me,” much clearer now from him being this close. Matt can’t take it any longer, scooting forward quickly until he feels his smaller twins dick brush against his lips. Matt opens wide, engulfing the head, sucking it into his mouth, while his own cockhead presses against Andrew’s own, opened, sleeping lips. Pre begins to leak out from Matt’s cock onto Andrew’s lips. In Andrew’s sleep state, he licks his slightly slick lips, feeling his bro’s cock leave a good amount of pre on them. His moth opens, his tongue running along the upper part of Matt’s cock as his lips close around the head and Andrew begins to nurse on the tip like a child suckling a teat. Matt moan’s from the pleasure, scooting even closer to try and get more and more of his shaft into Andrew’s mouth, as he feels it hit the back wall, slowly forcing the head into Andrew’s throat. This causes Andrew to moan, feeling more aroused in his sleep state, his hand going toward the back of his brother’s head, rubbing his hair as he begins to stir a bit. Matt purr’s with joy as he is getting attention from his Twin. He doesn’t care if he’s asleep. He know’s Andrew does not want this to continue to happen, but this reassurance is all Matt needs to keep going. He relaxes his throat, opening it up more so he can swallow more of Andrew’s cock, pushing his lips further down the shaft. He wants his bro’s precious seed, so he makes his tongue dance against the underside of Andrew’s tool, feeling the bumps and ridges of the veins, teasing it as best as he can. Andrew’s throat muscles continue to open and close over the head of Matt’s cock. Matt begins to let out soft, muffled moans of pleasure as his balls start to ache, eager to unleash a bountiful seed. But the thing inside of Matt, the living Symbiote, won’t allow it yet. It prevents him from release, and starts to produce more and more cum, making Matt’s balls begin to fill with more and more cream. Matt is hopeless, able only to do his best to work over Andrew’s cock while Andrew’s sleeping daze returns the favor. Andrew’s sleepiness begins to wear off as his eyes begin to slowly open, his brain waking up. The first thing he sees are two large, swelling testicles pressed against his face, before he notices the cock lodged down his throat… “Mmmmmm mmmmmm” Andrew tries to protest, knowing this is going to not go so well for Matt as his own cock was buried deep into his brother’s throat as well. His cock was uncontrollably hard, there was no way he was going to escape this. Andrew tris pulling away, but Matt’s hands grab onto his thighs and hold him in place, as Matt flips Andrew onto his back. Matt’s still larger then him and has plenty of skills from all the sports he played through the years that Andrew never did. “Mmmmmm….” Andrew protests again, but Matt just doubles his efforts, sucking even harder and faster. Matt was desperate for his brother’s cum, wanting so very much to please Andrew. Wanting just as much to make his twin bigger, stronger, sexier. As Andrew struggled beneath him, Matt drives his dick deep into Andrew’s mouth, until his balls are resting against Andrew’s nose; his wispy pubes tickling Andrew’s chin. Matt let’s out a soft grunt as his cock explodes, sending a large load of cum rocketing down Andrew’s throat. As it hits, Andrew kicks, his body spasming as another inch is added to his height, bringing him to six feet tall, just like Matt. His body swells, more and more muscle added to his frame as he reaches a whopping 215lbs, just five pounds shy of Matt’s own still impressive 220lbs. And his cock, lurching forward in Matt’s mouth as it gains another ½ inch, reaching finally a solid 8, thickening slightly in his mouth, pushing further down his throat. Matt lets out a low moan as he continues so suck, turned on incredibly by this new growth spurt. Andrew gets even hornier with this new flood of testosterone going through his body, causing his own cock to grow even harder. As Matt began to lift himself away after he did what he felt needed to be done, to grow Andrew to Twin like proportions, Andrew’s hands latch onto Matt’s head and thrusts his cock upward to sink his cock all the way up into Matt’s throat. Matt’s cock no longer in Andrew’s mouth. “This is what you wanted?” Matt tries to push Andrew’s body back onto the bed. “I’m sorry bro… Mph… but it’s… my turn…” He thrusts his cock all the way up and Matt continues to struggle. “My turn… to… Uhnn…” His eyes closing as a mighty blast of hot seed fires out from Andrew’s cock and forces its way into Matt’s stomach. “to… protect you.” All Matt can do is swallow or he would probably drown from how much cum was erupting out of his twin’s cock. He begins to feel like he’s weakening, getting smaller, but even though these physical attributes are changing he can only think of how much he truly needs to be wanted now by Andrew. Matt grips onto Andrew’s muscular thighs, feeling them tense up under him as he continues to shoot. All Matt does is welcome every last drop. Andrew also feel’s his brother getting smaller around him, as he drops to 5’11”. Matt’s cock reeling back into his body as it sucks into a slightly above average 7 inches, nowhere close to his whopping original 10. His weight reaching 205lbs. Andrew finally rolls Matt’s body off of him and onto the bed. Panting, his body covering with as much sweat, even covered with fur, his body looked like an oiled up bodybuilder. “What did you do?” “You wanted me to want you. And I did. I wanted you. I still do. I want you so bad, Andrew!” Matt reaches up, his fingers gently brushing against one of Andrew’s furry pecs, feeling how it’s slightly larger than before, slightly thicker. “And I love what my cum does to you. How it makes you bigger. Stronger. Fuck, you’re HOT, Andrew. You know that, right?” Matt moves his thumb and index finger to the nipple on the pec he was rubbing and begins to roll it between his fingers. Is it any surprise that I want you?” Andrew moans in pleasure from Matt’s touch. He pulls his twin closer towards him, lifting him up in his arms, as he stands up and walks towards the full length mirror, Matt’s posing mirror, the one that he would always admire himself in. Andrew places him down, right in front of him. Matt having to look slightly up now, but not by much, as Andrew turns him towards his reflection. Matt can now see who is clearly the larger one in absolutely every aspect now. “Do you see this Matthew?” Matt hated that name. He hasn’t been called that since he was 12. It was the name his parent’s would also use to scold him as a child. “Look what you’ve done. I told you to stop… There is no going back from now on…” Matt looks down at his feet for a moment, then back up at Andrew. He blushes, seeming a bit shy. Certainly not like the confident jock who used to strut around campus like he owned it. “Are you really mad at me, Andrew? I – I thought you wanted this. You can’t be feeling bad, can you?” Matt reaches over and traces his fingers along his brother’s abs, tracing each separation between each block of muscle. “Don’t you feel bigger, stronger, more capable? Ready to take on the world?” Matt moved around Andrew’s larger frame, behind his bro. His smaller body now completely hidden behind Andrew’s reflected image in the mirror. “Don’t you want to be as much of a man as you can be?” Matt asked, his voice distant, as he leaned against Andrew’s strong, broad, muscular back. Andrew feels Matt’s arms wrap around his waist from behind as he relaxes a bit. “I think I’m gonna need a shower. I can’t sleep now…” Andrew turns around to face Matt, placing a hand gently on his brother’s chin. “Everything will be ok, I guess,” He smiles into his eyes. “Just gonna be some adjustments were gonna need to get used to.” Andrew bends down, bringing his lips to Matt’s, kissing him, before heading off to the shower, leaving them both to contemplate. Matt watches Andrew’s strong glutes rising and falling with each step as he leaves the room. His lats curving to meet his beefy shoulders, traps trying to reach up and swallow his neck. He flopped back onto his bed, a huge grin on his face. You’re big now, and hot. But you could be so much more… To Be Continued… Coming Soon Part 08: Make A Man Out of You
  10. Hello everyone! Thanks for your patience. My hectic semester is officially over, and I am hoping to get this story done before we get too far into the summer. Thank you very much for everyone who has provided support, comments and feedback. You really helped motivate me to work on this. Here is a link to chapters 1-7: http://muscle-growth...e-symbiote-war/ Here is a link to chapter 8: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/4428-the-symbiote-war-chapter-8/ I have finally managed to finish chapters 9 and 10. Just for the record, I will post all of the remaining chapters in this thread. Chapter 9: Unexpected: A friend and a monster. “Hey… Hey! Hellloooo? Are you there? Everything ok?” My eyes come back into focus, and I find that I’m staring at a very cute face that is surprisingly close to my own. The last couple of days have gone by in a blur – I’m feeling depressed, isolated, and confused. I guess I had sort of zoned out while studying in the library – and someone noticed. Not just anyone, but the adorably cute boy that seems to spend as much time here as I do. I’ve caught him checking me out – almost as often as he’s caught me checking him out. “Welcome back to planet earth.” He says with a shy grin. I’m still staring into his blue eyes. Although we’ve spent a fair bit of time in the library together, we haven’t met, and we haven’t been this close. “Sorry. Must have drifted off.” “Is everything ok? You’re far too cute to be so glum.” I suppose that’s his way of coming out to me – but it was unnecessary, as we’ve already caught each other sneaking glances. Although he isn’t my usual “type” (I don’t know if I have a “type” anymore), he is adorably cute. He’s got this ridiculous mess of light brown hair, cool-blue eyes, and a smile that warms the room. He’s about my height, lean, and with a really cute little butt. “Mark.” He introduces himself to bridge the silence. “Corrigan.” “Cool name! Care to grab a cup of coffee and tell me how your parents came up with that one?” And that’s how I met Mark. It was unexpected. Our coffee date lasted all afternoon. He’s a good talker, and he’s fascinating. He’s doing his doctorate in Social Policy. He’s a smarty-pants, but doesn’t show it – he’s easy to talk to. He’s energetic and passionate about a number of topics, and he’s downright adorable when he’s really excited about a topic. He’s also a good listener, and it really didn’t take long for him to sift through my vague replies to figure out that something is going on with my roommate, or specifically, between my roommate and me. “Come on Corr! Spill the beans! Is he a psycho? Does he steal your stuff?” I just didn’t know how to broach the topic. Nothing that’s been happening makes any sense, and I didn’t want Mark to think I was nuts. Mark could tell that I was uncomfortable and fumbling. “Ok. You don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready. But just tell me that you will talk to me, or to somebody, if you’re ever in need of help.” I could agree to that. Our wonderful afternoon eventually came to an end. Mark had to get to class. “Ok – my interplanetary traveller. I want to see you later. How about Friday for supper?” There’s no way I could refuse him. We made plans. We hugged – he smelled great – one of those warm, close hugs – and just as we were disengaging, he gave my ass a squeeze. I was in a great mood. I decided to head to the gym to work out some of my energy. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the gym was fairly deserted. These were always my favourite times to work out – mindlessly enjoying my tunes and not having to wait for any of the machines to come available. I was having a pretty good day at the gym; the buzz of my positive mood from my date with Mark was translating into a great pump from my workout. I was really enjoying how solid my body was getting from a semester of working hard to keep ahead of Shawn. However, as I thought that, I mentally noted that the purpose of my workouts now was to try and keep up with Shawn. I finished my gruelling shoulders and arms session, capped off with some abs at the end, and headed to the locker room for a shower. I stripped off my sweaty clothes, wrapped a towel around my waist, and headed for the showers. Because there was no one else in the locker room, I stopped in front of the mirrors to admire my great pump. Shawn might have surpassed me, but my gains were without any “assistance” and my body was looking great. I’m a bit embarrassed to admit it, but I was turning myself on and starting to pitch a tent in my towel. And that’s when Greg walked in. You may remember Greg as the “victim” of my experiment. He was now easily a 6’1 muscle-bound stud. He was wearing his workout gear, a muscle shirt and a pair of workout shorts. His handsome face was now three inches closer to the ceiling than it was before our last meeting. The growth from my cum had turned him into an Adonis with a cock that any porn star would envy. And since our last meeting, he had clearly been hitting the weights with force. His broad shoulders were rounded globes that stretched the skin tight over the striations in the muscles. His arms hung wide to accommodate the bulging muscles of his V-tapered back. A powerful vein snaked down each bicep; serving as a roadmap to highlight the incredible size of his arms. Greg’s powerful legs, flexing with each step, filled up the legs of his workout shorts. However, it was tough to notice because my attention was drawn to the obscene bulge made by his enormous cock and balls. I was instantly awestruck by the presence of this stud, and my rapidly growing erection almost made me drop my towel. Greg immediately recognized me and I could see by the look on his face that he had been looking for me. A few quick strides of his powerful legs and he had me pinned against the wall. “Tell me what you know.” “Uhhh….”. His strong hands were firmly gripping my shoulders, pinning me against the wall. I wasn’t able to form words. “You did this to me! Tell me how!” His chest was right in front of my eyes, and I could count the striations in his meaty pecs. One… Two… Three… Four… I was fully erect. “I want more. Tell me how you did it.” I could feel his warm breath. His hands tightened on my shoulders. My balls churned. If he kept this up, he was going to get his answer without me saying anything. “It’s…it’s a curse.” I finally managed to stammer. I’m usually an excellent talker. But apparently that’s conditional… “This isn’t a curse! This is awesome. Tell me how it works.” And apparently I’m terrible under pressure – because before my brain knew what I was doing, I found myself saying… “It’s my cum. It makes people grow.” Oh shit! What have I done? That’s all he needed. He ripped the towel from my body and knelt down. He had one hand centered on my chest, pinning me firmly to the wall, and his other hand wrapped around my balls and the base of my erection. He popped the head of my cock in his mouth and started sucking as if his life depended on it. I mean seriously, I thought he might suck it right off my body. It was both painful and insanely pleasurable. Any attempt I made at trying to struggle was met with a firm thrust against the wall. Greg was quite adept at working my balls and shaft with his one hand; he was gently kneading my balls while also squeezing and tugging on the base of my boner. His tongue was eagerly exploring and teasing my cockhead, all while maintaining a powerful vacuum. I was so turned on by him, this muscle beast servicing my cock. I felt the moment when I gave over to the idea of making him grow even more – turning him into a massive muscle monster. I grabbed his head with both hand and started fucking his face. “Take it and grow!” I growled. Greg could tell I was on the edge, my balls started to tighten up. He let go of my shaft, released my chest, and grabbed my ass with both hands. He rammed my entire cock in his mouth – and I could feel the muscles in his throat milking the head. It was glorious. I let out a feral growl as my load spewed forth. I could feel his throat twitching as he sucked out every last drop. The growth was already starting as he pulled my cock out of his mouth and stood up. He already towered over me, but he was gaining more height, pushing closer to the ceiling. Greg quickly stripped out of everything. The first thing I noticed, because they were right in front of my eyes were his pecs, the muscles were undulating as each striation fought for space under the stretched skin. His abdominals clenched and expanded with each breath, but each time they did they expanded a bit larger – the bricks pushing a bit farther out. Greg raised his arms into a double bi pose, and as my gaze was drawn up, I noticed the massive V of his back, capped by a pair of rock hard, mountainous shoulders. Greg’s arms were massive, but as he brought his biceps into full flex, they exploded out into a pair of truly impressive peaks. “Of fuck yeah!” He growled. “Awesome.” I was star struck. Our attention was drawn down to Greg’s boner. It was easily twelve inches, and sticking straight out from his body; looking as if he was ready to spear me through the chest. Hard, massive, wrapped in veins, and leaking pre-cum. I leaned forward and gave the head a lick; savouring the pre-cum from this stud that I had created. Greg’s massive balls clenched up tight and he was immediately spewing forth a geyser of cum; it was everywhere, but mostly all over me. “Time to test out this new body. I have a feeling my workout’s going to be amazing.” He struggled to get his clothes back on. His muscle shirt clearly no longer fit his new size, it was stretched to breaking across his wide frame, and this pulled it up to expose his waist. His workout shorts were completely inadequate, they were straining at the seams, and the tightness only accentuated Greg’s massive chubby running down his right thigh. He clearly needed new clothes but who was going to criticize this massive muscle stud? I am feeling both physically and emotionally drained. This was something right out of my fantasies, but it is also a scary situation – a second person now knows what I can do. Are my worst fears coming true? Or my deepest fantasies? Chapter 10: Schoolboy Pin. I can’t believe what they did to me today. I knew Shawn was fooling around with one of his wrestling buddies. Travis used to be in Shawn’s weight category, but whereas Shawn had grown into a new weight category, Travis had hit a plateau. I’ve seen them hanging around outside of wrestling practice, and I’ve seen Travis leaving our room – only to walk into a dorm room filled with a pungent post-sex mix of sweat and cum. Apparently, Travis had hounded him about his growth and Shawn had let slip the secret. Travis was a lean and well-muscled wrestler, his light brown hair, hazel eyes and cut jaw line making him immediately attractive. He only stood at about 5’6, but his lean musculature made him look impressive. I guess that wasn’t enough, and his hunger for more brought him, and Shawn, to me. It started innocently enough. I was studying in the room when they entered. We chatted it up a bit. Then without warning, they flipped my chair over backwards and had me pinned on the floor. I struggled, but with no luck. Shawn had me in a schoolboy pin. He was sitting on my chest, his legs pinning my arms against the floor. And with his hands clamped on my forearms, I was essentially immobilized. This left Travis to take what he wanted. He was sitting on my legs, his hands kneading my growing bulge. He unzipped my jeans and worked them down to my ankles, and then hiked my briefs under my balls. My growing erection was starting to stand on end. Shawn shifted his weight, bringing his own swelling bulge closer to my face. Travis worked my balls and my shaft, slowly bringing me to full hardness. I feel embarrassed to admit that this was incredibly hot. But the idea of creating yet another muscle monster prevented me from really enjoying the experience. Travis knew what he wanted, and he sucked on my balls and licked my shaft, sending me into toe-curling bliss. He worked my hard cock slowly – sucking the head, deep throating the shaft, sticking his tongue in my piss slit – bringing me close to orgasm on a couple of occasions – but backing off in order to prolong the experience and maximize my eventual orgasm. Shawn wasn’t one to let my humiliation go to waste. “You know you’re enjoying this.” He said. “You’re going to make Travis into a wrestling machine.” He shifted his crotch closer to my face. His erection was plainly visible through his sweats, and a visible stain was forming. He saw me checking him out and shifted his weight so that he could free his hard member from its confines. From this angle, it looked ridiculously large. The purple head was engorged and glistening with pre-cum. The thick shaft was wrapped in veins – and at this proximity, I swear I could see his heart beating. Shawn leaned forward so that his hot cock brushed my lips. Fuck. My balls churned. And before I knew it, my cock was thrumming with my orgasm. Spurt after spurt. And Travis was there for the ride. His mouth was a vacuum on my rock hard cock, and he was kneading my balls for every last drop. He drank it all – the seed of his growth. How many times did I cum? Enough to move him up one weight category? Or two? Shawn was loving it – “Fuck yeah!” After what felt like an eternity, I stopped cumming. Travis took one last long suck on my still hard cock, and then stood up. His shirt was off and his pants were down around his ankles. His muscles glistened with sweat in the afternoon sun streaming through the window. I could see the growth catalyst working its way through his already lean muscled body. Was he standing taller? No. He was growing – he had to be at least 5’8 now. His already taught abdominals and serratus muscles appeared to be flexing, but without returning to their pre-flexed state. His striated pecs rippled as they added on a new layer of muscle. His rounded delts widened, adding to his already impressive V-shaped body. His biceps swelled, each one pushing out from the arm and forcing a vein to snake along the length like a drop of water cascading down his arm. The muscles in his legs rippled as they expanded with lean muscle. But I was particularly drawn to his beautiful cock and balls. His balls were tight and looked swollen with cum, easily the size of a pair of plums. His cock stood straight out from his body, the head was throbbing as if he were dry cumming, but each flex added new length and girth. It looked as if the veins were being pushed out from the inside. Apparently Shawn also found this irresistible. He stood up off of me, knelt in front of Travis and gulped down his cock. It looked as if he was struggling with Travis’s growing tool. However, they must have both found this to be too arousing, and after only a few moments, they were both cumming. Travis let out an animalistic roar, grabbed Shawn’s head, and rammed his spurting cock down Shawn’s throat. At the same time, Shawn’s own impressive member blew several huge shots all over Travis’s legs and the floor. After the orgasm subsided, Travis let go of Shawn’s head. Shawn slowly backed off his cock – the thick shaft emerging from his mouth, inch after inch after inch. Damn, it was obviously bigger – it had to be at least nine full inches, and as big around as my wrist. There would be no hiding that impressive bulge in his wrestler’s singlet. Staring directly into Travis’s still tumescent member, Shawn must have felt that Travis’s growth was impinging on his territory, because he quickly twisted around and lunged onto my still hard member – taking the entire shaft in one gulp. The surprise, combined with my arousal at watching Travis’s growth, caused me to immediately orgasm, and I shot one huge volley down Shawn’s throat. After a good hard suck, Shawn came up smiling, and I could see his traps expanding a bit more at the neck of his shirt while his delts widened ever so slightly. “Fucking awesome.” Clearly Travis was impressed with his new muscles. He kept running his hands over his body, flexing every muscle, and grabbing his swollen cock and balls. “Let’s hit the gym and see what these things can do.” Looking over at me with an evil and mischievous grin, Shawn agreed. They dressed and headed out. Feeling defeated. I got up from the floor and headed down the hall to the bathroom. This is starting to get out of hand; three people now know my secret. At the very least, I’d never be left alone. At worst, I could be kidnapped, locked up, and milked for the remainder of my sad existence. So why does all of this turn me on?
  11. Chapter eight is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13595-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-eight/ Professor Schnackenburg's mistake Chapter Nine Jack could still sense the faint voice of Cody’s thoughts and feelings somewhere back in his mind, while he strode through the streets, returning to the Archaeology Department. He had a vague feeling, that something wasn’t entirely aright, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Confidently, but absent-mindedly, he strode through the streets between the alabaster spired and jade domed buildings, and torches burned to lit the streets. A gigantic egg or two floated in the air, close to the full moon, and he could hear the sound of wooly mammoths trumpting somewhere in a distance. A giraffe from the Zoo was slowly burning, without being consumed. An elderly, bearded man, with the look of a homeless man, had taken off his shoes on the pavement, and kneeled in front of the giraffe. Ivy was crawling over the facade of a Tesco, and brownies wearing red, knitted wool-caps seemed to be busy with stocktaking inside. A faint glow inside a antiquities shop revealed that someone worked late: It seemed to be a man in an old-fashioned middle-eastern traditional costume, and he levitated about a deci metre above the floor, while he was polishing an oil-lamp. A ghostly light fell on the pavement from the stained glass of St. Congar's Anglican-Episcopal Cathedral, and he could hear an otherworldly music from the entrance, but he didn't stop to find out the source of this strange singing. In the corner of his eye, he could see a tree stride by, in the direction of the monument in memory of native inhabitants of the country. On the roof of the Indian Cultural Centre, a blue man was playing the flute in a haunting tone. The stone tiles and the asphalt coating of the pavement had broken up at many places, and the trees had grown surprisingly big already: gnarled and winding trees usually become only after many years. A mud-hut with straw-roof emerged out of the earth, and cracked the pavement, as it replaced a night-open convenience store. When he reached the Archaeology Department, the war-god wasn't there, but the old, white-haired, bespectacled man was. Jack towered over the older man, and his naked chest emitted heat in the cold and moist nocturnal air. The voice of the older man trembled in the presence of Jack: "Kortoth-Gnaah and most of the men went to the harbour." "The harbour? Do you know why?" The older man's facial expression changed: "So you are not entirely connected to his thoughts?" "To a certain degree. Now when you mention it, I feel some sort of silent homing signal from the direction of the harbour. But why?" "The Sea Goddess is held hostage, or so he says. Kortoth-Gnaah. I didn't know about her until he asked about her." "Why didn't he change you, too?" The expression of the older man became inscrutable. Perhaps disappointed. "I don't know." For a second or two, Jack entertained the idea to absorb the Professor, but some strange tingling in his head adviced against it, so he dropped the idea. "Who is holding her hostage?" "After using The Book of Eibon, with my help, strange enough, he told me, that she is held hostage by the World Serpent." Jack shuddered. He could feel Cody shudder inside him at the words 'the World Serpent'. A bad omen. A forgotten memory. A dark space lurking in the back of his head, something he ought to know, but didn't. For some reason, he didn't want to ask anything more. Without a word, he left the Archaeology Department and walked in the direction of the harbour. * * * "Absorb them!" Their god commanded it. Lucien could feel the scent of saltwater, seaweed and petrol. The dockworkers were taken by surprise, when the odd-looking crowd of men, in what seemed like an unusually successful and impressing fantasy-cosplay, surrounded them in the harbour. The dockworkers were quite impressive to be modern men: Well-trained and used to heavy lifting, dressed in sturdy nylon jackets and trousers in rough fabrics suitable for their type of work. A few mariners had sprung to their assistance, when a fight seemed to be breaking out, but it had instead turned into a night-mare for the dockworkers and the mariners. The men of the war-god had devoured the modern men by their touch. Lucien could see Chad embrace an impressive dockworker, and he had grabbed another one at his bull-neck, and felt the other man's strength seep into his own. A scream was on its way to arise in the other man's mouth and eyes, but when it was close to erupt, the other man didn't exist any longer, and Lucien's muscles looked even more impressive than before. He could sense an echo of the other man's scream inside his head, and he then felt a pleasant wave of appreciation, when the fragments of the other man relished in what he had become a part of. * * * Jack could see fellow housecarls arrive on the scene at the same time as himself. Their brothers who had followed the war-god to the docklands, had found suitable men to unite with in the harbour, but those who had haunted other parts of the city, had also found suitable prey. The were all much bigger now. * * * "Now! Unite! Unite with me!" The brutal physiques of Lucien and Chad watched each other. They saw their brothers in arms fuse with each other into ever taller composite titans. Lucien felt his cock throb inside his leather codpiece, when Chad watched him lovingly. Then they both approached each other, a hungry glint awakening in their eyes. They embraced each other: Warm, strong arms around wide backs and reliable shoulders. Titanic warriors hugging each others, the leather-clad, steel-hard crotches rubbing each other throbbingly. The could feel the now familiar fusion happen. They kissed each other, and then the mind of both fell out into nothingness and love and desire. A being emerged out of their embrace. It looked like Lucien, and it looked like Chad, and it had the minds of both, and of all the men they had absorbed. * * * There was something ecstatic and something of abandon to it. Jack fused with the other men. The roars of pleasure and power of the men he had fused with echoed in his mind, and he could feel Cody's part of him take especial pleasure in it: "Oh, wow. Bro! Yeah, let us absorb all that attitude and brawn and testo and... OH. YES. JACK. TOGETHER. ALL OF US.!" * * * A few minutes later only three men stood on the pier, watching the sea, and listening to the waves: Kortoth-Gnaah, the man who had been Jack and the man who had been Chad and Lucien. "It's time. Unite with me." Jack and Chad-Lucien took a few steps, touched the chest of their war-god, and, with them, all the men who had experienced the transformation granted by Korthoth-Gnaah fused with the source of their power. So did all the men they had supernaturally devoured during this strange and otherworldly night. A roar emerged. The war-god himself was unflinching in every situation, but the men, whose bodies now built the embodiment of Anghra-Lemur's warrior-god, and whose minds were now drowning in the mind of their war-god, roared in a masculine frenzy none of them had thought possible. The primal and unspeakable power, the instincts, the revelling and ravishment forced the combined minds of almost hundred men to roar, and the last remnants of the person, who once had been Brock MacGurgan, was consumed by the power of Korthoth-Gnaah. Now, the war-god roared, too, but, this time, it was a battle-cry: "I abjure thee, Crawler in the Dark. I abjure thee, Slitherer of stygian depths! I conjure thee, thou Who Gnawest on the Roots of the World Tree! Come, face thy foe! Come meet me again, after Aeons of truce! Come let thy hostage free, thou Foul Defiler! Come forth, Old god of darkness and the Abyss!" The litany of Chaos went on, and on. And something answered the call. Out of the cosmic depths, a Being groped and clawed, crawled and merged. The blabbering and fragmenting minds of mortal men could feel their own fear mix with the courage of the warrior-god, and, as far as they any longer retained any ability to think, they sensed how their enemy rose from the Depths. The strength and the power, the heat of anger and the nobility of courage, primordial instincts and the call of duty pulsated in the veins and the muscles and the mind of Korthoth-Gnaah, and he prepared to meet The Old Snake, The Worm that Gnaws, the dragon out of the cold spaces, the reptile of Nothingness, the embodiment of Chaos. It had been Vritra in the east and Leviathan in the west, but it was older than those names. It had been Tiamat, Iluyanka and Apophis, Veles and Jormungandr, but names are young, and the Old gods were before all the names and words and languages of men. But Korthoth-Gnaah didn't fear, and the mortal minds, that now were going out and emptying themselves into the warrior-god, could feel that the power of St. Michael and Indra was their's, and the strength of Marduk, Tarhuntas and Re-Harachte, and the might of Perun and Thor. The fire of Helios burned in their chest, and the brawn of Cuchulainn was their's. Chronos was ready to topple Ophion anew, and Jupiter readied himself to face Typhon. Apollo braced himself to confront Python, and Hercules would burn the Hydra anew. And yet, all these names and legends were faint echoes of the perpetual and aeonic struggle between the Old gods who existed in unsung ages, before men strode Hyperborea and the Polaric continent: Between Kortoth-Gnaah and The World Serpent. It had happened in the past, and it would happen again, when the stars were right. And now they were.
  12. Xyggurat

    The Bigger Man

    Short, aggressive, and dirty. In keeping with the season, I figured I'd sneak this one out in the middle of the night, like Santa but pornier. Merry Christmas! I apologize for any typos or the like and will get back to them later. I am bone-tired from baking cookies and running D&D. -X- ===== Logan couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he realized he was in too deep. It was probably around the time he finished tying the knot in the rope around Troy Larkin’s wrists. At any moment, the unconscious jock would come around, and there’d be no going back. Truthfully, though, Logan had passed the point of no return a few days prior. He’d been driven to the line a number of times, like when Troy had casually knocked a weight out of his hand while he was doing shoulder presses, or all of those times he and his dumb jock buddies had mocked him while he was getting changed. But all of those paled in comparison to that fateful Saturday when he decided he’d finally had enough of the humiliation. In retrospect, calling Troy a “roided up asshole” in the locker room was exactly the wrong way to retaliate to the latest round of jeers and snickers. One shove led to another, and suddenly he found himself on his knees in the middle of an otherwise empty locker room, staring at Troy’s donkey dick eye-to-eye. The jock had slapped him across the cheek with it before hefting his balls in one hand, grinding them against Logan’s face. “Do these look like they’re shriveled up, bitch?” Troy had asked. He needn’t have asked. Everyone at the gym knew that Troy freeballed at the gym. It was impossible not to notice the thick bulge of his dick swinging in his shorts. Logan had always wanted to see it, but not in this scenario. He had struggled, but Troy’s grip was like iron on his shoulders. He’d been forced to endure the whole, humiliating scenario, tears stinging his eyes and his heart pounding like a jackhammer. To make matters worse, he’d been painfully hard the whole time. At least Troy hadn’t seen that. Shaking with rage in the car afterward, Logan knew he needed to get revenge, but he might not have gone through with it if it weren’t for the old man he’d nearly hit on the way home. He had slammed on his brakes and threw open the door, hurrying to make sure his near-victim was all right. To his surprise, the old man--a dapper old fellow with stark white hair and a suit that seemed out of place in the summer heat of San Cristobal--seemed far calmer. “You must have been in a hurry,” the old man had said. Logan had helped him to his feet, apologizing all the while. “I’ll be fine,” the old man had assured him. “But you, son, you look like someone’s got under your skin.” For some reason, Logan found himself sitting on the street corner, telling the old man all about Troy. He wasn’t sure why he shared so much, except that there was something calming, reassuring, about the pale blue eyes that regarded him while he talked. When he was finished, the old man said, “It sounds like you already know what you need to do. Put this bully in his place. You’ll come out of it the bigger man.” That flew in the face of everything Logan had learned in school. His parents had always told him not to rise to the bait. That was what made you the bigger man. But as the old man talked, he became surer and surer of his course of action. Troy’s eyelids fluttered. Groggily, the jock shook his head, lifting his head from the locker room floor. He looked around as if seeing the place for the first time, but when his gaze settled on Logan standing there before him, he came sharply awake. “The fuck are you doing?” he asked, ever-so-eloquently. Logan didn’t respond. He let Troy’s dawning awareness take in the fullness of his situation, the ropes binding his arms and legs. Logan standing before him, thin arms folded over his narrow chest. Troy struggled against his bonds and let out a mindless cry for help. “No one’s here,” said Logan. “One of the perks of working out this late, I guess. We have the whole place to ourselves.” That part of the plan had been easier than Logan expected. The desk clerk had been eager to get off of his shift early. Logan had waited until he and Troy were the only clients at the gym, and then he’d offered to lock up so the clerk could go home early. The kid had been all too ready to accept. Troy strained against the ropes again. The corded musculature of his arms bunched impressively, and all over his shirtless torso, hard slabs of beef tensed and rippled into sharp relief. Logan could have sworn he heard the individual fibers crying out in protest. He almost took a step back. But no, even Troy couldn’t break out of that. He slumped back onto the ground and shook his head, still clearly woozy. His eyes, full of fury, speared Logan. “You put something into my drink.” Logan shrugged. His heart was pounding in his chest like he’d just run a hill sprint, but his voice sounded oddly calm and detached. “You shouldn’t have left it lying around while doing supersets.” Troy snarled. “What’s this all about? You try anything, you little fa--” The clap of flesh against flesh surprised even Logan. Dimly, through the rushing adrenaline and endorphins, he felt stinging heat in his palm. “Don’t use that word with me.” Troy’s face went scarlet as he struggled against his bonds. One cheek was a deeper red where Logan’s hand had connected. He sagged again, quicker this time. A sheen of sweat glistened over his body, highlighting the wide taper of his lats and the thick, bunching traps that framed his neck. “What’re you going to do?” Troy asked. “You fucked with me one too many times,” said Logan. “This is payback.” He hiked his trembling thumbs under the waistband of his gym shorts and pulled them down. In his baby blue boxer briefs underneath, his cock was already half-hard and inflating to its full six and a half inches. Troy looked up at him blankly. Then comprehension dawned. “You’re a sick fuck,” he spat. “When I get out of these, you’re dead.” The threat hit Logan with a physical force. Throughout all of his fevered planning for revenge, there had been a cold voice of warning in the back of his head: there would be consequences. He had shut that voice away, time and again. He tried to do so again as he peeled his boxer briefs down. His cock, at least, had no worries. It sprang up and bobbed in the air, a bead of precum glistening at the head. No, Logan told himself. He had come this far, and he was going to see his revenge through. One hand slid down the length of his cock. A quiver of pleasure echoed up his spine the hard flesh under his hand bucked like a startled horse. The sight of Troy’s pecs, pumped from his efforts and rippling with the jock’s impotent rage, only fueled his boner. “Don’t you fucking do it, you little pervert.” “Try and stop me,” Logan grunted, lost in pleasure and vindication. Was this how Troy had felt when he had shoved his junk in Logan’s face? He had expected to feel guilty, but every stroke of his cock washed away a bit more of the remorse and fear in his belly. He was in control. It felt good. Powerful. His strokes sped up, the sound of skin against skin an odd counterpoint to Troy’s raging. To Logan’s surprise, a higher-pitched edge of helplessness soured the jock’s litany of threats, until all of a sudden, he let out one shrill word. “Please!” The sound of it, the knowledge that he had complete and total power of Troy Larkin, sent Logan over the edge. Hot white pleasure arced up his spine and burned down his limbs as an orgasm built in the base of his balls. He felt them pull up as his dick went rigid in his hand. Bliss. That was the only word he could use to describe the explosive wave of energy that tore through him, the only one he could hold in his mind against the blinding tide. It was unlike any orgasm he’d ever had before, a thousand times more intense. The first spray of cum spurted out across Troy’s beautiful face, a streak that crossed from temple to chiseled cheek. He opened his mouth to protest, and a second blast splattered across his lips and into his mouth. Not that Logan could see. His eyes were shut against the storm of pleasure raging around him. Every millisecond of it stretched into eternity as searing euphoria hit him in waves. That dim voice of warning perked up, telling him that something was not normal about this, but its shouts weren’t even a whisper against the roar of his own pleasure. He realized that the roar wasn’t in his head. It ripped from his throat, a sound of purest, primal exultation. But something had to be wrong with his ears. His voice sounded deeper, as if he had a cold. Still he came, drenching Troy’s face in jism. Warmth poured down his spine and into his limbs. He felt like he was being *stretched* somehow in every direction at once, like the air was pulling at his skin. And then he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He’d gotten used to the sight of his form, short and lean, over the course of months failing to put on any muscle. He knew immediately that his reflection had changed. He was still thin, yes, but the guy in the mirror might as well have been a stranger. The Logan he knew didn’t have horseshoe triceps when he wasn’t flexing, or a tangled blue vein down each arm. And he definitely didn’t have the solid four-pack he saw in the mirror. As he stared, knees still buckling under the power of his orgasm, the figure in the mirror changed further. With every improbable shot of cum, muscles swelled and tightened. Two more abs resolved themselves into stern definition on his stomach, and his newly forged six-pack rippled and hardened. Mass mounded up on his shoulders and traps, giving his body new breadth. The changes in his lower body were even more pronounced. Logan’s ass had always been bony, but firm globes of muscle were pulsing outward, even as his meager quads expanded in fits and spurts. None of the miraculous growth could have prepared him for the strange sensation of his dick expanding in his hand. His cock had been at full mast the whole time, but it was as if he was getting an erection on top of the first. The head strained forward, lengthening past his clenched fist, even as his shaft pulsed thicker and wider, forcing his grip apart. Hips still bucking, he gave a powerful stroke of his new cock and marveled at how long it took to travel the full length of it. It had to be a good seven and a half inches, and so thick he couldn’t close his fingers around it. A moan from Troy drew Logan’s attention downward. He realized two things: first, that he was looking further down than he was used to, and second, that he wasn’t the only one changing. The metamorphosis working its way through Logan’s body was mirrored and reversed in Troy. As Logan’s orgasm began to subside, he watched as Troy’s bunched biceps softened and dwindled, losing mass and definition at once. The jock’s huge feet visibly retracted, leaving them merely large. Everywhere, from his cannonball delts to the heaving globes of muscle at his chest, it looked like air was being slowly let out of a ball. Logan sagged against a locker as the orgasm finally ebbed away. It was a strange dichotomy. He felt so spent from the pleasure that he could barely stand, but his newly muscled legs carried his weight more easily than they ever had before. Troy, too, slumped down onto the ground. All of the fight had gone out of him. He was still muscular, though hardly the amateur middleweight bodybuilder he had been before. And with Logan’s cum still dripping down his face, he had never before looked so pathetic. “What the hell happened?” Logan asked, not expecting an answer. He turned to the mirror again. One hand roamed over his chest. Hard plates of muscle met his hand as he explored the uncharted topography of his new physique. He let out a gasp as a stray finger brushed over a surprisingly sensitive nipple. His hand voyaged lower, sliding over the sweat-slicked grooves of his abs. There was no fat there, only skin shrink-wrapped over taut bricks of muscle, leading like cobblestones toward the heavy cock at his groin. It felt too big, slapping against his thigh as he turned to flex in the mirror. No, not too big. Fucking great. Logan raised one arm up and bent it, sucking in a breath at the hard tennis ball of muscle that exploded upward as he flexed. He wasn’t huge by any means, but he’d packed on years of progress in a matter of minutes, and he was taller besides--maybe 5’9 now. Just barely above average, but he’d stopped growing in high school and had resigned himself to a life of needing stools to reach high shelves. His growth--and Troy’s shrinking--was impossible. Utterly impossible. He’d heard stories, of course, like everyone in San Cristobal did, but those were just silly tales people at the college told. Staring at his mounding biceps, he wondered just how many of them were true, and how this had happened to him. You’ll come out of it the bigger man, the old man had said. Impossible. Logan let out a laugh at the absurdity of it. He was so consumed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice that Troy had gotten free. Logan had tied the ropes tightly around Troy’s hamhock-sized forearms, but they had shrunk with the rest of the bound jock. Somehow, he had managed to get one hand loose and clamber to his feet. All of this passed through Logan’s mind as the jock’s still-sizeable bulk hurtled into his back. He went down, face slamming against hard tile. Wind exploded from his lungs. He tried to suck in a breath, but Troy’s weight pressed down on his back. Still stunned, he felt like a rag doll as the jock twisted him onto his back and pinned him down. Hate-filled eyes bored down into his. Spittle and spent cum rained down on him as Troy’s fingers dug into his shoulders. “What did you do to me!?” Logan stared at him, half numb from the pain and half devoid of words to describe the impossible. A sudden, delirious laugh tore free from his battered lungs. “Stop laughing!” Troy shrieked at him. Through fits of laughter, Logan blurted out, “My cum’s--” “Change me back!” “--on your face!” With a wordless roar, Troy drew back a fist and swung down at Logan. Desperate, the smaller man raised his hand to block the blow. His hand caught the punch. The strength of the blow drove Logan’s hand down to the ground, but he saw awareness dawn in Troy’s eyes. The big jock was still stronger, but the gap between them had narrowed. Emboldened, Logan struggled against the muscled physique pressing him down onto the cold tiles. He fought as Troy drove down on him, the jock’s hot breath stinging against his ear. Somehow, he managed to wriggle one sweat-slicked leg free. Desperate, he drove his knee up into the jock’s crotch. The feeble kick lacked momentum, but a grunt of pain and fury shook Troy's body. Logan took his chance, throwing his full strength at one of Troy’s arms. He wriggled out from under Troy and tried to get back to his feet. The jock clawed at him, bringing him back down. Logan lashed out blindly. His fingers closed on fabric as he fought to free himself again, and he pulled frantically. Troy’s shorts gave way with a rip. As they battled, Logan felt something big, hot, and thick press into his side. “This what you want?” Troy jeered as his cock slid across Logan’s ass. Sheer fear lent Logan strength. He caught Troy around the midsection with one arm and got a grip on one of the jock’s wrists with the other. Ignoring the throbbing in his head and the protestations of his battered body, he managed to twist Troy’s arm behind his back. The jock tried to yank free, but he’d spent too much of his strength trying to escape his bonds, and was at a bad angle besides. He let out another enraged grunt as Logan managed to get on top of him. His grunt went suddenly high-pitched. Logan looked down, taking a moment to realize why. Amidst all of the other concerns of his body, he’d barely noticed his still-hard cock pressing against the crack of Troy’s huge bubble butt. A wicked grin spread across his face, fueled by delirium and pain. He tugged Troy’s arm backwards and leaned in, whispering, “Is this what you want?” Logan shifted his hips, using his thighs and free arm to press down on Troy’s back. The jock bucked, his incredible strength almost dismounting Logan, but he just tugged on Troy’s bent arm once more. The jock let out a hiss of pain. It was nothing compared to the curses he let out as Logan positioned his still-hard cock against Troy’s exposed hole. The jock had violated him, made him feel like less of a man. “It’s time to return the favor,” he said, and drove his cock in. Logan had topped before, but this was a whole new experience. Always before, he’d been on the smaller side of average. As he pressed into Troy’s virgin hole, he felt the walls inside gripping his dick like a glove. Mixed with the rush of endorphins, it was bliss all over again. “Beat the hell out of me if you want,” Logan spat. “You’re always going to remember that you were my bitch.” He didn’t know where the words were coming from. Logan had never talked like this before, never been so brutally aggressive in his life. But it felt so good, the raw, mean masculinity of it. He pulled back and drove his dick in again, savoring the length of the strokes. It didn’t take long for his pleasure to crescendo once more. He couldn’t brace himself against the volcanic surge from his balls as he blasted a volley of cum into Troy’s ass. His moans deepened as he began, again, to feel the tugging at the edges of his limbs, the swelling heat in his muscles. This time, he luxuriated in the power of it, bringing his arms up into a savage flex as his peaks climbed higher. Every muscle in his body felt pumped with blood, overfilled and huge, but they only grew bigger. He was dimly aware of Troy’s dwindling beneath him, but that was nothing compared to the sensation of his lengthening cock driving deeper into the vanquished jock. Logan’s back stretched and lengthened. He threw his head back as his pecs surged forward, going from solid plates to dense globes of striated muscle. Below, his abs refined themselves into a perfect eight-pack. He widened, too, his shoulders going from merely broad to impressively so. At the same time, he felt his lats unfurling like wings, the expanding musculature of his back giving him the depth of a lightweight bodybuilder. As his orgasmic transformation subsided, he began pulling out of the man beneath him. Calling Troy a jock now would be charitable. He was toned, perhaps, but only slightly larger than Logan had once been. Logan could barely spare any attention for that. He was awed by the sheer size of his dick as he pulled slowly free. It felt like the shaft could go on forever. He was definitely over eight inches, maybe closing in on nine, and thicker than his wrists--or at least, his wrists as they had been earlier that night. Beneath him, Troy was shaking. Logan stared at his enemy as he flipped him over. Gone were all traces of the defiant alpha male. He looked so small now, in every sense of the word. Well, not every sense. Logan glanced down as something hard prodded him in the thigh. Troy’s dick was definitely not small. It wasn’t the monster that it had been, but it was still above average. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” The cocky sound of Logan’s voice surprised him. This wasn’t him, taunting someone after they’d lost everything. He almost stopped himself. Almost. “All of that time. All of that abuse. I took it, Troy, and I didn’t say anything. I guess that does make me the bigger man,” Logan said. He reached out with one meaty hand and gripped Troy’s dick tightly. Instantly, the former jock began to protest, dull ‘no’s bubbling up on his lips. His treacherous hips, however, bucked into Logan’s hand. “I guess your buddies are going to have to find a new lifting partner,” said Logan, smirking. “You probably can’t keep up with even the smallest of them any more. But you know what? I think your muscles look better on me.” He raised one arm in front of Troy’s face and bent it slowly. The high, vein-tangled peak rose before Troy’s eyes. He let out one last whimper, and his entire body tensed. Hot cum sprinkled up into the air. The last of Troy’s definition began to fade away as his remaining mass flowed into Logan. The flexed arm swelled, denser and higher, until Logan felt like his arm might burst from sheer size. In his hand, Troy’s cock dwindled, retreating into Logan’s expanding fist, and Logan’s began to attain truly monstrous proportions. He stood, still growing, and regarded himself. It was impossible not to admire the god in the mirror. Well over six feet, he had to stoop a bit to see his entire body, but it was worth the effort. As he watched, pound after pound of competition-ready muscle poured into his body. Logan bent and went into an astounding most muscular, and for the first time in his life, he looked anything but ridiculous in the pose. Not that he’d be competing. The huge shank of meat between his legs was almost a foot long and thick as a beer can, and there’d be no hiding that in posers. He tore himself away from his reflection and went to the former jock’s locker. To his shock, Troy’s clothes were small on him. They still smelled like the jock, but he wasn’t going to drive home naked. With some effort, he squeezed himself into a tank top and shorts. They’d never fit Troy this well. With a last glance at his nemesis, he headed for the door. Troy called out to no one in particular. “My muscles,” he wailed. “You’re dead. You’re fucking dead.” Logan almost let the rage come over him once more, let that cockiness out for one last blow to Troy’s ego. But as he looked down at the bully, the shadow of a man who’d never bully anyone else again, he shook off the threats. They were as impotent as Troy himself. He left the locker room, saying nothing at all. After all, he was the bigger man.
  13. arbotimus

    The Hazing

    This one got me especially hard while writing it. Special thanks to Xyggurat for the story idea and help along the way. Neal ran his favorite red styling brush through his hair, slicked back and neatly trimmed. The last stray strand was finally wrangled into place, the caramel color of his Indian skin contrasting subtly against his perfectly symmetrical hairline. His large, brown eyes inspected every detail of the finished product in the mirror. Neal spent almost an hour every day washing and styling until his hair was perfectly coiffed. He wasn’t the most handsome gay on the block, but he certainly cleaned up the best. His collared shirt and khaki shorts that cut off above his knees lent a preppy air to his clean features. This was Neal’s favorite part of the day, putting his face and outfit together. If he had spent half as much time in the gym as he did styling, he would be a god. Neal chose instead to hide his lanky features beneath designer clothes. He headed downstairs from his room to the first floor of the frat house he lived in. They were a small frat at a small university, but everything here was orderly and clean. That was a large part of what drove Neal to this frat in the first place. He liked sanitary living quarters. Joaquin met him as he made his way towards the entrance. “Are you ready for this?” he asked. “Honestly, I just want to get it over with. I’m not terribly interested in bossing a little brat around in the name of brotherhood.” Neal replied. “Aww, come on, lighten up. It’ll be fun, having a personal servant for the next few days. I am, of course, lending my slave to Cyndi as a, uh, belated anniversary present, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a little fun,” he said. “I think that’s called abuse of power, Joaquin,” Neal said, mostly jokingly. “Eh,” he shrugged it off. They strolled together out of the house to join the rest of their brothers on the lawn. A row of timid freshman stood before the group, most trying to hide their anxiety with feigned careless expressions. Neal gave them all a quick once-over to assess which one would be the least annoying. One in particular caught his attention. He caught everyone’s attention, probably, standing a head taller and about twice as wide as the rest of the nominees. His slightly wrinkled gym clothes and unshaven face made Neal cringe a bit, but the rugged ensemble was balanced by arms that stretched out his sleeves to straining and a chest that stuck out in high relief through the tight fabric. Neal’s imagination filled in the loose space below with tight abs that clenched every time he inhaled. Neal guessed that he had to have been a former wrestler who had taken up bodybuilding. He was not often wrong about things like these. Neal moved his eyes on down the line, pretending that he hadn’t taken special notice of the Olympian stud that stuck out like a phoenix in a flock of pigeons. But as the rest of the sordid cast failed to impress him, his gaze wandered back over to the veritable Adonis. He quickly found himself lost in the icy blue eyes that were both confident and a little bit sly, staring casually ahead. His blond, short cut hair was dulled but still vibrant in the early morning light. He was the image of masculinity and youth. Helios in basketball shorts. Neal was torn from his reverie by the sound of a throat clearing. John, the frat president, proceeded with a long-winded speech about the meaning of brotherhood and the tradition of the fraternity. Neal couldn’t be bothered to pay attention while he was so busy with his exaltation. John blathered on with his trivial monologue, explaining to the pledges that they would be assigned to fulfill the needs of a brother for the next three days to demonstrate their loyalty (and not, Neal noted, just as an excuse to avoid doing chores). The hot pledge was focused intently on John. Lucky John. “And now for your assigned brothers…” John said, listing off names as ceremoniously as he possibly could while standing on a plastic chair in the tiny, unadorned lawn. “Kent and Neal,” he said. And, of course, the hot pledge stepped forward. Although he had a name now, Neal thought. He should probably learn it. Kent Kent Kent. Neal glanced at John and gave him a brief look of exasperation. John knew he was the only gay brother in the house, and clearly this had gone into the decision making. For the first time since he started speaking, John gave a subtle smirk, as if to say “You’re welcome.” Neal took a deep breath and approached Kent with all the poise and confidence a senior brother should have over a pledge. Kent approached him calmly, holding out his hand. His gaze aimed downwards into Neal’s, the intensity of the color giving Neal a momentary pause. “Kent,” was the only thing he said. “I’m Neal,” he responded, shaking Kent’s hand. Firm and rough, a weightlifter’s hand, and he didn’t shake lightly. His hands felt clean, at least, even if he was overall scruffy. Kent was about to speak again, but Neal interrupted him. “But you can call me big brother for today. My first class starts in half an hour. You’ll carry my stuff to class.” Even though Neal was trembling on the inside, he was not about to let it show. Kent took to his role as personal butler quickly, and readily accepted Neal’s backpack. Neal guided them forward, Kent following deftly behind. Small talk ensued. Kent was here on an academic scholarship, a transplant from California. He had planned to go on to medical school somewhere on the west coast. “If we’re being honest, I thought you were here on a sports scholarship. What with the school logo on your shirt and all.” Neal said. Kent gave a sympathetic chuckle. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” “I bet” Neal said. “I could if I wanted to, though. The teams around here aren’t much to sneeze at. And, I mean…” he motioned down to his body, as if to say “look at me.” So modesty wasn’t his strong suit. Neal gave him that resigned but sassy “oh really” look. Meanwhile he was fighting a public erection. From the look on his face, Kent knew exactly how to play this game. The more he could fluster his big brother, the fewer menial tasks would be thrown his way over the next three days. Neal’s mind wandered back to past exploits who, though not quite as built as Kent, had used him until something better came along. Each one had blighted his confidence, and now there was not much left to speak of, at least internally. He turned away from the Kryptonian display, not eager to let his highly polished exterior falter. This was going to be a torturous three days. Then, as if to confirm his fate, a passing gull left a messy present on Neal’s shoulder. While he usually prided himself in his composure, unexpected messes were almost intolerable. Kent let out a small chuckle. “Go in the front pocket of my bag and pull out the baby wipes.” Neal demanded, coming unhinged. Kent did as he was told. Neal started scrubbing furiously. “I can’t see it very well…” Neal said. He glanced at his burly butler for a moment, contemplating his position. “I need you to wipe it off for me.” Neal held his breath as Kent’s body towered over his own. He watched the burgeoning arm muscles tense and harden as Kent started to clean him. Neal was trying his hardest not to get aroused, but he was doing a poor job in the face of such overwhelming temptation. Kent’s scent somehow reminded him of his grandmother’s house in New Mexico. Neal was about to lean in closer when Kent paused. Neal glanced over his other shoulder to see what had happened. A group of muscle-bound jocks were sitting at a table in the distance and giggling in their direction. “You know them?” Neal asked. “Yeah, my friends…” Kent said. Neal paused for a moment. He was torn between basic human kindness and his almost irrational compulsion to not be covered in bird droppings. His current status as master to this muscle-bound servant tipped his priorities towards the latter. “Keep scrubbing.” Neal could have sworn that Kent started blushing. Neal felt something strange well up inside of him. It was oddly pleasant, starting at his chest and emanating outwards towards his back, arms, and legs. As it faded, he felt as if he had just finished a light workout and he was slightly out of breath. He felt spry, limber, and refreshed. Eventually the stain faded enough for Neal to feel secure again, and Kent backed away. Neal thought it was almost kind of cute to see him fumble. Kent regained his composure as quickly as he had lost it, but Neal did not forget the feeling it inspired. That night, Neal reflected on the day as he began his nightly beauty rituals. Aside from the bird poop incident, Kent had not faltered in his cocky jock persona. He picked up Neal with a casual ease when he tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, bragged over his medical knowledge despite being a freshman, and opened a jar in half a second that had refused to yield to Neal’s scrawny arms (exaggerating the flexion in his forearms and biceps as he twisted the lid). Neal felt like he was the one being hazed. No matter what he asked Kent to do, he did it with such ease and confidence that Neal was the one left embarrassed. Neal disrobed to his boxers, which were his nightly wear in the heat of the summer. He noticed that his body looked more toned today. A little bit rounder in the shoulders, more defined in the abs. The curve of his triceps even started to make an appearance when he flexed them. Apparently just hanging out with a jock was enough to make you more like them. Neal hopped into bed, proud of his small victory at the end of a drudging day. Kent was all too chipper the next morning when Neal came out to greet him. Neal was preemptively exhausted by the day ahead, and tossed his backpack towards Kent. Kent caught it and lifted it up and down a few times, showing off the smooth, round marble that composed his biceps. “A little heavier than yesterday,” he said. “I have a lab today,” Neal responded, knowing that an explanation didn’t really matter. Neal trudged onwards towards class, Kent following dutifully behind him. Neal noticed that his shadow was eclipsed by Kent’s. Even following in Neal’s wake he was demonstrating his superiority. That was until Neal happened to glance Kent’s friends out of the corner of his eye. Deciding that it would be okay to be late for just one class, he took a detour in their direction. He flaunted his impotent attendant as he passed. Fortunately for Neal, one of Kent’s friends was quick on the draw and threw a piece of paper on the ground near a trash can. Neal didn’t wait a moment. “Go pick it up,” he said. Kent hesitated for a moment. “Well?” Neal asked, letting a mischievous grin escape. Kent was now blushing full force. “Go on, golden boy,” said one of Kent’s larger friends. Kent did as he was told. And Neal felt it again, the pleasant humming in his chest. It was stronger this time, and did not fade as quickly. He thought he might be imagining it, but his shirt felt a little tighter as it ended, and his shorts were pulled a little higher above his knees. This sensation scared him a little, but he didn’t feel the need to stop. “Kent?” Neal said. “Yes?” he responded. “Yes?...” “Yes, big bro” Kent muttered shyly. The jock behind him burst out laughing. Neal felt it again. Now he was sure his sleeves were getting tight. He needed to invest in looser clothing. “Time for class. Let’s go, pledge.” Another bump. Neal was starting to get hard when it happened, too. He tried not to face his body to Kent, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “I figure it’s not really hazing if you don’t suffer at least a little,” Neal said jokingly, looking Kent straight in the eyes. Kent just grunted. His demeanor changed as well. He seemed to be distracted, and he had lost his confident air. Neal noticed this and it only fueled whatever state he was in. It was getting harder to ignore the stretch in his shorts when he walked, or the feeling of his chest rising beneath his shirt. He noticed that Neal was not quite filling out his shirt the way he used to. More like a heavy fitness model than a budding bodybuilder. Kent had taken to looking down, and his shoulders were hunched over. Neal attributed his sudden change in size to poor posture. By the time they got to Neal’s first class, he had become accustomed to his tight fitting clothes. He even enjoyed it, a little. All of the pride he had taken in his looks was now adorned on a more worthy frame. The fact that his clothes fit better just augmented the clean look he had always strived for. Their trip had also given Kent time to recover to his former attitude. He had taken to answering all the professors’ questions in every class, which annoyed Neal to no end. His last class of the day was an advanced cellular biology course. Unlike before, Kent found himself struggling to keep up with the lecture. Even though it wasn’t expected of him to follow, it was clear that his pride was more than a little hurt as a scholarship recipient and future doctor. Neal came in behind the professor and explained everything, showing off just how much more he knew. And every time Neal explained, he grew a little bit more. His hard on was hidden under the tablet arm. When everyone got up to go, Neal looked down and noticed that his undershirt was starting to show through the gaps in his collared tee. He was pretty sure he his shorts would rip if he moved, as well. Meanwhile Kent was facing the opposite problem. His shirt was now looked appropriately sized, and while his arms were still far burlier than most, they lacked that sleeve-stretching quality. Neal began to realize what was happening to the both of them. He stared long and hard at Kent, deciding what to do. He sent Kent home for the night, making up some excuse about a family emergency. Neal’s nightly mirror ritual took a somewhat different course than usual. He stared at the changes in his body for a long time before he finally accepted what was happening. His breathing was heavy. Neal had always been the runt of the litter, and now that he was above average size his clothes felt like they were made for kids. The first thing he noticed was how tightly the buttons on his shirt were held together. In fact, he was surprised they hadn’t bust open already. Each button undone gave his chest the freedom it had been yearning for all day. He felt the smooth, hard roundness of his shoulders as he slid the shirt over them, having to peel his sleeves off of his arms. Small softballs, when he flexed. Next to come off were his shorts. Neal had a tough go of it. They were tight to begin with, and now it was almost impossible to roll them off the meaty quads that adorned his legs. Even his calves gave him some trouble. Neal was hard at his reflection in the mirror. For once he couldn’t decide what he was going to wear the next day. Nothing would fit. Neal sent Kent a message the next morning: “I’m going to need to borrow some of your clothes. All of my gym clothes are in the wash.” It was a Saturday, and Neal was surprised that Kent was awake to respond. Kent didn’t question the request, or that Neal had invited himself over. Kent’s place was on the way to the gym. Neal threw on his baggiest clothes, for once not caring very much how he dressed. Even in his sweatshirt and loose jeans, he was still more attractive than he had ever been. When he got there, Neal noticed that he did not have to look up at Kent very much anymore. Kent was still noticeably larger than him, but Neal felt that it wouldn’t be long before that changed. Kent seemed too absorbed in the changes happening to his own body to have noticed the dramatic changes in Neal. In fact, he barely looked in Neal’s direction, opting to avert his gaze towards the ground. Kent led Neal into his room, not paying him much attention as he rummaged through is dresser to find clothes that would fit his new brother. Neal, emboldened by the changes, began to disrobe. “Damn,” Kent said. “I didn’t realize you were so stacked.” Neal smiled. He tried to subtly admire his abs, pretending that they were a quotidian feature of his body. “Really, you think so?” he said. He lingered for a little too long, perhaps, to sell that particular tale. “It’s a well-kept secret,” he lied. And he felt the surge of growth as Kent admired his body. He was almost eye level now. And approaching equal size with Kent. “Kent,” Neal beckoned. “Yes, big bro?” Bump. “Get on the floor. Pushups. Go.” Neal demanded. Kent was all too happy to oblige. This was his area of expertise, and he needed no further prodding to work out. Kent had only pounded out ten (with grace and ease, despite his loss in size) when Neal, in a sudden fit of competitive spirit, joined him. Neal had never completed more than twenty five pushups in a row in his life. But he breezed past thirty without a sweat with the strength he had stolen from Kent. He made a point of counting out loud, too. Kent started as well. And slowly Neal started to overtake him. The harder he pushed, the more frustrated Kent became, and the more he fueled Neal’s growth. Neal felt tireless. Instead of slowing down he was speeding up, his body taking all of the energy it needed from the former giant. Eventually Kent couldn’t push up any longer. Neal kept going, his vigor almost endless. He stared at Kent directly in the eyes as he hefted himself up and down with Kent’s strength. “Man, that was too easy,” Neal said. He had stopped out of courtesy to Kent, not having broken a sweat. Meanwhile Kent was struggling to get up, his shirt soaking. By the time Kent got up, he noticed that he was looking up at Neal. He started to panic. “What the fuck is going on?” he said. Kent tried to bolt. Neal grabbed him out of instinct. Normally Kent was not used to being pushed around by anybody, but in Neal’s vice-like grip he was completely immobilized. Neal stared into his frosty eyes. They were full of fear and panic. Kent was still beautiful by anyone’s standards. His body was more like a model’s now, muscular in all the right places and lean in others. If it wasn’t for his scruffy beard and gym clothes, he would have belonged on an Abercrombie bag. But compared to Neal he didn’t stand a chance. Neal noticed how the curve of his triceps formed a nice shadow as he so casually held Kent in place. “Wow, it’s so easy to subdue you. Are you even trying to get away?” Neal said. Kent started to flail in response. That wouldn’t do. Neal reacted with reflexes that were not his own, wrestling Kent down to the ground until he was on top of him. Kent’s arms were bent behind his back and his legs were held down by the prodigious thighs Neal now possessed. “You know, the more you struggle and can’t get away the stronger I get…it’s fun to watch.” Kent stopped moving. Neal still held him down, enjoying his absolute control over the stud that he had drooled over just two days ago. He was sure Kent could feel his hard on pressing against his ass. Eventually Neal let Kent go, and Kent had no further intent of trying to escape. It was useless anyhow. He was too familiar with his old body to think he could escape the behemoth that now sat before him. While Kent contemplated his situation, Neal was having fun exploring his new body. Between bouncing his pecs and lifting up his massive arms to pronounce to all of the world his newfound size, he tried a few poses that came naturally to him now: side chest, most muscular, lat spread. And not a hair out of place. Between those poses he noticed Kent getting hard. “You want this, don’t you pledge?” Kent just stared at Neal with his still ruggedly handsome face and piercing eyes. “As much as I like your new model look, I’m afraid I’ll have to be taking that as well.” Kent did not much seem to object. Neal ceremoniously took his cock out of his boxers, growing to a size well beyond what he had before. Kent fell to his knees, opening his mouth. Neal’s pre dripped down onto Kent’s lips as he took out his tongue. Kent’s cheeks were red. Neal liked that. He smacked his cock against Kent’s face a few times. “You must have done that so many times…how does it feel?” Neal said. Kent just stared at him, placing his mouth over Neal’s dick. Neal’s eyes closed as Kent worked his tongue up and down his shaft. He could still feel the pleasant glowing inside him as he took the last of Kent’s strength away. And the best part was that Kent wanted it now. Kent belonged to him, body and soul. Kent couldn’t help but spill a little when Neal released his load into his mouth. Neal’s cock had been growing while it was still inside him, and Neal wasn’t shy about releasing his full load. When Kent opened his eyes, he saw that Neal had been flexing in the mirror. Neal didn’t waste any time. “Hand me one of your shirts. The loosest one,” he said. Kent obediently fetched him a shirt. He didn’t really have a choice now. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like he was barely out of high school, and his old clothes draped over him like he was a little kid wearing his dad’s oversized shirt. Neal slid Kent’s tee over his arms and struggled to get it passed his chest. It didn’t even make it all the way down to his waist. Neal tried not to move. He was afraid he would tear his new servant’s clothes. He was already stretching them to max capacity, and he was clearly larger than Kent had even been. He started to get hard again. “What now?” Kent asked. “Well I guess you’ll just have to be my servant from now on, little dude. How about you bring those lips over here again?” Neal said. Kent did as he was told.
  14. Xyggurat

    The Trainer, Part I

    Hi, guys. I wrote stuff for you. My thanks to Arbotimus, who did his part to end the muscle theft drought on the forums. -X- ---------------- Part I On a blustery day in mid-autumn, the right guy finally crossed Noah’s path. It was a quarter past four in the afternoon, and just after Noah should have been leaving to head home. But he’d taken a walk-in client at noon and it had pushed all of his other appointments back by a scant few minutes. Otherwise, he might have gone his entire life without ever meeting the one. That’s just how these things happen, sometimes. He had just thrown on his jacket when he glimpsed a figure slipping through the front door of the gym in a flashfire swirl of bright-colored leaves. It should have ended there: the newcomer was far from Noah’s type, short and thin and with nary a hint of muscle under his tight shirt. But something about him held Noah’s gaze. The newcomer was handsome, in a fine-boned way. He had sharp features and skin that freckled more than tanned. His eyes were a bright and guileless blue. And there was something about the set of his jaw that spoke of firm determination. He trudged up to the front desk with the grimace of a man facing execution. Somehow, in the same time, Noah had crossed the distance between his office and the desk. He’d made no conscious decision to move, but his feet had carried him forward like they had a mind of their own. He pushed past one of the girls on duty, keenly aware that he should be heading home for another meal of chicken and broccoli. Another meal alone. He stopped in front of the newcomer. “Can I help you?” he asked. The guy looked up at him. Way up. At just over six feet, Noah was tall, but not exceptionally so. The newcomer didn’t even come up to the nape of his neck. He was definitely not Noah’s type. Too thin. Too small. “I’m new,” said the guy. “Do you work here?” To answer, Noah smirked and pulled back the left breast of his jacket. Beneath was his shiny red shirt and name tag. “NOAH,” it said, in big block letters. Beneath them was an equally bold word: “TRAINER”. The new guy blushed. Noah couldn’t be certain if those blue eyes lingered for an extra moment on the expanse of his big, pumped chest. He told himself he didn’t care. They probably weren’t even playing for the same team. “Sorry. Of course you do,” said the new guy. Noah grinned. “What can I do for you?” “Make me look like you.” Noah glanced at the clock. His schedule was already pretty full. He really didn’t need any more clients. But the holidays were coming up, and the extra money would be nice. Yeah, he decided. Dinner alone could wait. “Doable. Depends on how hard you’re willing to work,” he said. “I think I’m willing. I guess we’ll find out,” said the new guy, extending his hand. “I’m Will.” Noah took Will’s hand. A faint shock sparked between their fingers as they touched. It wasn’t painful, but both of them drew back and shared an uncomfortable laugh. Noah reached out and completed the handshake, his large and calloused hand engulfing the softness of Will’s. “Noah,” he said. ***** Their first training session was early the next morning. Will had insisted. It wasn’t that he thought he would get huge quick; he’d been clear about that when they had talked about his goals. He’d just wasted enough of his life being scrawny, and he didn’t see much point in waiting any longer. That and the fact that he’d prepaid for a dazzlingly large number of sessions sold it for Noah. He had rescheduled his first client right away. Will arrived five minutes early, just as Noah was finishing his morning protein shake. He knocked at the door of Noah’s office, peeking in like he was entering a lion’s den. When he saw what Noah was drinking, he made a face. “What is that?” Will asked. “Protein shake. Just protein and water.” Will was wearing a white tee, gym shorts, and some ragged old tennis shoes. There was something refreshingly unpretentious about that. He hadn’t, like a lot of new gym goers, bought a bunch of ill-fitting tank tops or Under Armour gear, or fluorescent shoes. He looked like he was there to work, and Noah appreciated that. “It looks awful,” said Will. “Does it taste good?” Noah shrugged. “The truth is… after a while, you stop noticing the taste. It’s all about making your macros.” Will frowned. “Which are…” “We’ll get there,” said Noah. “For now, let’s see what we’re working with.” The scale only confirmed what Noah’s eyes saw plainly: Will was little more than skin and bone. He weighed in at just a hair under 130 pounds, a fact that made his nose wrinkle as Noah recited it aloud. “I didn’t know I was that light,” Will said. Noah scribbled the figure down on his clipboard. “How tall are you?” “Five foot six.” A pause. “Okay, five-five.” “That’s not so bad,” Noah said. “Shorter guys always look bigger than taller ones.” Will snorted. “I don’t think my body got that memo.” “Well, let’s send it a message,” said Noah. He led Will over to one of the benches and loaded it up with a couple of plates on either side. It was his normal warmup weight: 225. He slid beneath the bar and gripped the cold steel. “This is a bench press,” he said. “It’s one of the most effective exercises you can do, along with squats and deadlifts.” “Why do those all sound like torture devices?” Will asked. Noah proceeded to do a smooth set of fifteen presses. He made sure to keep his reps slow and steady; his form perfect. In his periphery, he noted Will watching intently. He couldn’t tell if his client was surveying his bench form, or if those keen eyes were admiring the solid swell of his chest as he completed each rep. Finished, he hopped up from the bench. “Got it?” “You made it look pretty easy.” Will’s cheeks were a little flushed, as if he’d been the one warming up. Noah told himself they might just be red from the cold. Will settled underneath the bench and tried to push off. The bar didn’t move. “Hold up there, man,” said Noah. “Let me take some weight off.” “That might help,” said Will. Now Noah was sure Will was blushing. His red cheeks really made the freckles on his nose stand out. He grinned to himself while he took the weights off of either side, leaving Will with just the bar. Will grimaced. “Shouldn’t you put some weight on it?” “Start light, focus on good form and slow, controlled reps. I promise you’ll get up to two plates if you stick with it.” “I’m going to hold you to that,” said Will. With a sigh of resignation, he pushed the bar off the struts and lowered it to his chest. His first rep was a little quick, with poor control. The second saw the bar tilting as his left arm pushed higher than the right. With each rep, Noah offered little corrections. By the time Will had completed ten reps, his form was looking pretty decent. He racked the weight and sat up on the bench. With one hand, he massaged his chest, wincing. There were no pecs there to speak of. “Burns,” he said. “Yeah, it’ll do that, if you’re doing it right,” said Noah. “Still want to try for two plates?” Will shook his head. “I think I’ll hold off. Don’t want to make you look bad.” Noah laughed. After a couple more sets on the bench, he took Will through deadlifts, which he was surprisingly good at, and squats, which he wasn’t. By the time they had corrected his squat form, Will was drenched in sweat and they had gone a few minutes over time. Noah barely glanced at the clock before taking Will over to do shoulder presses, then skullcrushers. He decided to finish their session with some biceps curls at the preacher bench. He loaded up a bar and powered through some perfect curls. Midway through, he noticed that Will was definitely staring. He set the weight down and glanced over at his client. “What?” Noah asked. Will shook himself out of his reverie. “Sorry, I was just… your arms are scary huge, you know that? It looks like you have softballs stuck in there.” His face was bright red. Noah eyed him. That didn’t mean that Will had been checking him out. Lots of guys were impressed with his arms, after all. Not many men could legitimately claim nineteen inch peaks. “These little guys?” Noah asked. He brought his right arm up into a powerful flex. Will’s face darkened from red to crimson. Then, clearly realizing that he was staring again, he tore his eyes from Noah’s biceps and focused on the preacher bench. “My turn, right?” he asked. Will pushed past him and got into position. Noah found himself watching Will’s arms as his client struggled through his first few curls. He really didn’t have much muscle tone, just the barest hint of a curve showing when his arms strained to rep the weight. He finished the set with a loud groan, letting the bar clatter to the rack. “All right,” he wheezed. “What’s next?” “You’re all done,” said Noah. “But we just--” Will’s eyes traveled up to the clock on the far wall. “We’ve been here for an hour and a half? But I only paid for a 45-minute session.” “Don’t worry about it,” said Noah. “The extra time’s on me.” He regretted his words the instant after he spoke. He worked hard for his clients, but training was how he made his living. He couldn’t afford to just give away his time like that. But it was too late now. Will mopped at the sweat on his brow with his towel. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” “Don’t worry about it.” “So,” Will said, glancing up. “Are you going to keep me?” “I guess so. Today was an easy day, though,” said Noah. “Tomorrow will be harder, then?” Will sounded miserable. “Tomorrow, you’re resting. Trust me, by tonight, you’re going to be pretty sore. Give yourself two days to recover and then I’ll beat you up again,” said Noah. Will offered a hesitant smile. His teeth were straight and white. “Okay. Deal.” ***** Noah, Will discovered, had been a master of understatement. By the time that night had crept around, his entire body felt like it had been through a meat tenderizer. And so, at the embarrassingly early hour of eight, Will threw himself down onto his bed. As he started to drift off into exhausted sleep, he found himself thinking of his new trainer. God, the guy was an Adonis. Will didn’t think he’d ever seen someone hotter. Those steel grey eyes. The dark beard-shadow highlighting a jaw you could cut glass with. And then there was his voice, deep and husky in a way that seemed to reverberate in Will’s gut every time he spoke. That was saying nothing of his body. The way his form-fitting red uniform shirt clung to those powerful shoulders; his broad, deep chest. There was an eroticism to how Noah’s clothes stretched over his frame. He might be easier to be around if he didn’t wear any. Will could barely look at the guy without fighting a hard-on. But now he was alone, and he didn’t need to. He toyed with the memory of Noah demonstrating preacher curls for him. The bar held more weight than Will could even squat, and Noah had curled it effortlessly, over and over. The way the veins on his biceps peaks had pulsed under his thin, tanned skin as they fed blood to the taut muscles. Will was hard in a second, his cock pushing insistently against his shorts, eager to be freed. Will tore his dick free, reveling in the hot, hard length of it as he caressed it with his hand. He wasn’t especially big, just a hair under six inches, but he was hard as iron. The urgent stroking of his hand set his nerves ablaze. He went straight for the coup-de-grace. The image of Noah, towering over him and flexing, looking cocky and self-assured, filled his mind. Every detail of that moment was etched there indelibly. Even the smell of him: deodorant and just the faintest odor of clean, fresh sweat. “Noah. Fuck…” he grunted. His hips bucked involuntarily. His balls spasmed. Searing pleasure echoed down his spine and surged up the meager length of his cock. Like a wild beast, it spewed wildly, sending droplets of hot jism raining down on his sweaty skin. A second dilated into eternity. But eternity ended. Will collapsed onto his coverlet, boneless, like a rag doll, panting as if he’d had another workout. The afterglow of his incredible orgasm suffused his limbs, settling into his sore muscles with a comforting warmth. He’d never cum like that before. It wasn’t just the orgasm. For a moment, he felt… masculine. That was the only way to describe it: strong. He flexed one tortured arm, felt it with his hand, and was surprised at how hard it felt. But then the reality of his thin physique crept back in, leaving him wanting more. He couldn’t wait to work out again. ***** Across town, at the gym, Noah was getting in a workout of his own. He was settled on the same bench press he’d taught Will on that morning. Although he was tired after a full day of appointments, he felt good. Happy, although he couldn’t quite say why. Good enough to be going for a personal best on the bench press: 405. Four plates on either side, and something told him he was going to do it tonight. He locked his arms out, pressed off, and stabilized the weight. Every millisecond was an agony as he lowered the bar to his chest, then pressed it back up. One. He did it again, counting his heartbeats to keep himself from repping too fast. Two. He was feeling good about making four reps when suddenly, a wave of dizziness traveled through him. It lasted for a mere moment, but in its wake, he found his arms trembling under the weight. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to bring the bar down. He pushed. The bar did not move. Panic welled up in his chest. He sucked in a ragged breath. No one else was in the gym. With a growl, Noah put all of his might behind getting the weight up. He didn’t care about completing the rep well, or finishing it at all. To his relief, it rose. It took the rest of his strength to send the bar clattering back onto the struts. Gasping for air, he sat up on the bench, blinking away the little dark stars that crowded in on his field of vision. He’d been so certain he was going to blow away his old max. He gave the bar a baleful look. It wasn’t going to happen that night, for sure. He felt like he had run a marathon, and his chest was on fire. For a moment, his thoughts strayed back to Will, and how much he had struggled with the bar. “Always room to improve,” he reminded himself, getting up to close the gym for the night.
  15. jman250

    Even Exchange: The Mile High Club

    Hello all. It's been a while since I've posted a story. This is a short one that came together in about a day but still took forever for me to post. I was inspired by a story from a while back and, given a recent airplane encounter, felt the experiences meshed well. It's a slightly different take on muscle theft and I'm thinking of expanding it into a series of stand-alone stories. Let me know if you think that'd be worthwhile. Special thanks to @JadeDragon for his work proofing, and his diligent pruning of poorly placed adverbs! ==== Even Exchange: The Mile High Club ==== I sat down across from him. It’s rare to see such a specimen of manhood in real-life and I wanted a closer look. He definitely exuded something special, and his smoking-hot body helped draw my attention from the airport bustle. He seemed engrossed in his phone, crisp blue eyes never leaving the screen. Good thing too, because my admiration showed clear as day. He’d occasionally reach up to scratch the dusting of dirty blond hair on his chin, flexing slightly. The beard accentuated his square facial features but my eyes drew away to study the curve of his bicep. I was annoyed that I couldn’t determine his height; the dark waiting chairs slanted at odd angles so I’d have to wait until boarding. I marveled at the heavy pecs pushing against the white fabric of his palm tree patterned button-up shirt. A sudden voice jarred me to my senses, rudely pulling me back to reality. I jumped, the weight of my (currently) swimmer's build squeaking the canvas seats. The overhead speakers buzzed for an announcement. “Please check any extra bags as this is a completely full flight. We’re about to begin boarding. Line up according to the number printed on your boarding pass.” He looked up and I averted my eyes, as I was afraid of him catching my obvious stare. His biceps rounded, bringing a boarding pass into view. He sighed heavily, causing his shirt to bunch around his torso. With reluctance, I stood and got into my boarding position. Gods, I prayed, please let him sit next to me! I did my best not to touch anyone's bare skin during the crowded boarding process. Not because I'm a germaphobe, it’s just inconvenient having a jumble of other people’s useless feelings and sensations crowding my own. I boarded, found the first empty overhead space halfway down the cabin, and excused myself after asking the aisle occupant to move aside. I took the window seat and watched the forward door. Then I waited for the magnificent stranger to board the plane. It took a while. I absently played with the colorful pendant hanging around my neck. The forward cabin crowded, overhead bins closing as they filled one by one. And then I spotted him, red backpack in hand leading the way. I held my breath as he approached. He opened one, then two, then three overhead bins. All full. He passed me, my neck craning to watch him walk away. Curses. Then he opened the bin behind my row and pushed his backpack inside. “Can I get in here?” He spoke to the aisle occupant. I couldn’t believe my luck! These things don’t actually happen in real-life. My heart beat faster, my grip tightened on the armrests. The aisle occupant moved aside and the man of my admiration sat down in the unoccupied center, directly next to me. He was next to me! Thank the gods for small favors. We all shifted as he settled into his seat. I took stock of the thick legs occupying the limited space next to mine. His shoulders filled the seat and forced his arm to take the entire armrest. I didn’t mind. I slipped my elbow behind his own, nervously trying not to draw attention. I struggled not to glance sideways too often. We took off without issue, leaving our uninteresting valley behind. We ordered drinks and he closed his eyes in the dark cabin. Eventually, our drink orders came. The attendant handed him a half club soda and half tomato juice. In a kind gesture, he reached for my water. I did too and our fingers touched. In that moment a flash of information flooded into my brain! I felt the cold plastic in his fingers, the strain of his shirt against pumped biceps, the bulk of his legs pressed uncomfortably together. Wow, I thought. I always loved the rush. My cock jumped and my heart thudded but he felt nothing. Smiling, he apologized for his helpfulness and finished handing me the glass. I smiled back but for different reasons. He finished his drink and drifted off to sleep. I’d never been this lucky before! These things normally required coercing. Nevertheless, I always keep my cock extra-large for chance encounters like this. It has its uses in more ways than the obvious. I focused on him, his own dick wasn’t bad -- average length but not particularly thick. It felt comfortable in its confined space regardless of the cramped airline seat and his muscled thighs. I looked him up and down, his mouth slightly ajar in his sleep. I smiled at his handsome face. His features really were stunning. I moved my fingers to gently touch his. It’s always slightly odd, feeling two different sensations simultaneously. His cock thickened and lengthened ever so slightly as my own receded, and then it thickened and lengthened again. And again. And again. I reveled in the feeling of his cock getting tight in his underwear. The sensation caused my own member to harden into my now roomier briefs. His cut cock started feeling uncomfortably cramped. I grew it larger one more time, smiling knowingly. That should be enough. I peered around and fished a card from my carry-on bag. It drifted softly from my practiced fingers into his shirt pocket. He’d be sure to find it there later. The flight continued normally. The attendants moved to the front for another round of drinks. We hit turbulence and he elbowed me in the side, waking with a start. I turned my head and smiled at him and he smiled back, mouthing a small apology before shifting in his seat. But he couldn’t get comfortable. I could feel his cramped cock pressed against his thighs. It felt unusually heavy. After a few minutes, he tapped the aisle occupier’s shoulder and asked to be let past. “While you’re up,” I said while rising, addressing the aisle occupant. I flashed a polite smile as I also slid past. My neighbor walked oddly towards the plane’s rear. He appeared to be two or three inches taller than me, maybe around five foot 11. It was obvious to me that he walked with a waddle, unconsciously trying to make more space between his legs. His ass looked amazing. It was tight, round and filled the seat his jeans to perfection. A quick pull and the lavatory door swung outward as he slipped inside. The stall directly across showed a green “vacant” so I took it for myself. What luck! Time to make a move. I didn’t expect much in return -- people didn’t often connect the dots on their own, usually so confused they passed me by. But maybe I’d be able to sneak a feel of those hard arms. I concentrated on him. I felt his agile fingers pull against metal, then metal again with a slow downward slide. Then cotton being moved and … relief! Then a pause, and I grinned. I could feel skin against skin and a warmth on his now much heavier cock. “Yep, it’s real,” I thought to myself. Nothing much happened for a minute or two. It’s difficult the first time, having something familiar unexpectedly change. I know from personal experience. His crotch felt compressed again -- I had to act fast! I slowly and softly unlatched my door. It swung outward noiselessly to an empty corridor. His own door opened and wide eyes met my face. That look in his bright blue eyes made me bold, and I knew I had to go all in. I tapped my chest and his sky-blue eyes followed the motion. His chin dipped, his gaze instinctively darting to his pocket. He reached up and retrieved the card, flipping it over a few times before reading the back. I touched a finger to my lips advising silence. He hesitated, looking bemused. Time slowed contrary to the rapid beating of my heart. This had better work or it’d become a very uncomfortable flight. Then he cautiously took three steps past me and I closed the door. “Hi there,” I whispered. He looked puzzled, likely wondering why he found himself in a cramped space with a complete stranger. A stranger who was a man, no less. Our bodies pressed together. His muscle mass greatly exceeded my own toned body, a good 30 to 35 pounds of pure muscle above my own 165 pounds. I leaned forward to embrace the close proximity. I could feel his heat. He leaned back. “What happened? Who are you?” he said in an unsteady, hushed voice. The blank look on his face spoke volumes -- he barely understood the situation. “Hi,” I said again. “I n-noticed you earlier and you have a great b-body and I want to help.” My original plan didn’t include stumbling over words but, pressed up against this bigger man, I felt less sure. A moment passed. “You did this?” he asked, eyes darting downward. I nodded and smiled, my plan seeming less surefire with every passing second. “How …?” his words trailed off. “Like this,” I said, taking his warm hand in mine. He looked down, unsure of how to react, then his dick started growing. He took a sharp breath and this time, he felt it happen. Blue eyes darted to my face, then down to his jeans. His hand pulled from mine after only a moment and his growth stopped when he broke contact. A hard bicep maneuvered between us, pressing against my pecs in the confined space. I felt his fingers unintentionally brush past my crotch as he felt his own. The feeling of new weight echoed in my mind. His dick had to be well above average by now. I eyed an arm and started to lift my hand. I wanted to touch the bunching triceps between us. But before my hand got too far, he unbuttoned and tugged down his jeans; I stopped in surprise. Most men were never this bold! Boxer briefs came into view and I unconsciously licked my lips at the strained fabric. He pulled down the band and a long, thick, porn-star sized dick swung free. I must have misjudged his initial size because a good six inches of soft, thick cock pushed up against me. Wow, it looked beautiful, I thought. It was a pleasant sight. I felt myself lean forward, putting pressure on his cock between our thighs. Seeing his dick confirmed what he felt happen -- his dick had grown. He saw it just moments ago in the other bathroom and now it was definitely bigger. His cock started to harden, I felt his blood rushing in. Our eyes met again but this time, small lines pushed up around his eyes. A sly grin crossed his face. "Can you do it again?" he asked. I was filled with excitement and surprise. I felt a wash of his craving rush through me. He leaned into me more, grinding his hardening member against me. It felt amazing on my thigh. I could feel him feeling it too, and it felt amazing! I nodded, sheepish, not knowing what to say. He pushed against me and his neck lowered enough to let his lips brush my neck. His arms wrapped around my body, biceps flexing against my arms. He breathed warm air against my skin and whispered, "do it again!" I trembled. My thoughts returned to the big biceps I’d watched flex back in the terminal. His cock fully hardened against our legs, reaching what felt to be ten full, thick inches of meat. It felt powerful against my jeans. My fingers crept slowly until they wrapped around the thick shaft. I felt him shudder in pleasure, a shudder that echoed through me. His arms tightened around me, biceps flexed against my smaller frame. He tensed in expectation. “Ok,” I said, nervously. But those beautiful arms filled my thoughts and before I realized, I started to fill them with size instead. His triceps too. The pressure of his arms against me felt intoxicating as they grew. My own arms shrank in tandem with his growth. It took him a moment to notice the increased strain against his shirt but his head shot up instantly when he did. “You can do that too??” he asked in surprise and I nodded back. Lust filled his sharp blue eyes. They bored into mine with hunger, and maybe something else. I leaned away but his still growing arms kept me steady. “Oh my gods, do it! Make me bigger!” he said, blue eyes ablaze. He was fully embracing the changes. I moaned when I felt his pecs swell bigger. They took up more and more space, filling with more firm, solid muscle. His square, thick pecs pushed hard against me in the cramped lavatory. I felt their new weight increasing moment-by-moment. He didn’t seem to notice my own round pecs dwindle in size. The buttons on his palm tree shirt strained against his growth. “Yes,” he said softly, enraptured, lolling back his head. I looked down and pushed my free hand between us. I groped his stomach, feeling a small layer of fat and started shifting it away onto my perfectly toned body. My sculpted six-pack disappeared as his own solidified. The tips of my fingers pressed through his shirt, I could feel each mound of muscle. One, two, three rows of recently revealed abs. And then the ridges between each mound deepened. His abs suddenly contracting with increased size and strength, bending him forward into me. “Fuck!” he whispered, his hot breath invading my ear. “Keep going!” And I did. My fingertips pushed through a gap between shirt buttons and brushed against the bottom of an expanding pec. I felt the overhang increase above my finger, the heavy weight of more and more muscle increasing every moment. I greeted a nipple with my fingers and I gave it a light pinch. He let out a soft moan in response. I felt the shock run through him and echo through me. But he needed more. I sucked more of his fat onto my own frame and felt a final row of abs reveal themselves below his burgeoning pecs. My finger snuck between them and his pec. I loved the new weight sandwiching my finger between his pec and abs. They felt so heavy, so big! His shirt strained ridiculously tight, creating larger gaps between buttons. I could now peek at rows of brick-like, chiseled abs that were now exposed. By now, my own cock was painfully hard. It screamed at me to be let free. In a frenzy, I let go and his growth stopped. He opened his eyes to watch me unbutton my own fly. I tried pulling down my pants. But my own strong legs and the close quarters made it impossible. He tried to help but between his bulk, my bulk, and his ten-inch dick pressing hard against my thigh, we couldn’t do it. So I grabbed his hand and felt my quads slowly shrink. He made an “umph” sound when his already large legs started expanding inside his jeans. I tried to push the sensations he felt from my mind, a mixture of pain and pleasure. And then his already perfect, round ass started protruding more too. It pushed hard against the sturdy plastic sink behind him and still, the twin globes of his muscled ass continued to grow. They fought for space in the enclosed cabin, but the cabin resisted, pushing painfully against the granite-like mounds. He shoved his cock forward, its hardness grinding against me, and stretched his back towards the mirror to give his ass more room to grow. A small yelp escaped my lips when my feet banged against the opposite wall. His thick, beautiful, growing arms held me tight and he had to lift me -- effortlessly -- to provide himself with more room. “Hold on,” I whispered, again letting go of his hand, stopping his growth. I pushed my jeans and they slid down easily. This surprised my partner, it seemed to be the first time he noticed that I shrank whenever and wherever he grew. His eyes gave me a questioning look but I reassured him. “It’s OK, let’s focus on you,” I said and pulled down my briefs. Out came my cock. There looked to be about eight inches left. He gawked and then smirked, likely remembering where that cock would end up. I thought longingly about how big it was before, but I knew I’d grow it again later. My cock pushed against his in the enclosed space. It felt amazing, electric! His 18 (or maybe 19) inch arms flexed around me. His shirt strained impossibly tight against him but continued to hold. He lifted me more and I started bulking back muscles to help with the job. Friction excited our members, they moved opposite to each other. He lifted my whole body in the cramped space, rubbing our cocks together. I rose by his powerful arms, then he lowered me, rubbing in the other direction. I felt it from us both, from my own dick and the echo of his sensation flooding into me. It felt so good, our magnificent, warm cocks sliding slickly in tandem. I pressed my hands against the ceiling for support and he repeated the up-and-down motion over and over and over. I could feel my balls starting to rise. They were so big and filled me with hormones, intensifying the experience. “I’m close! Not yet,” I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut. I spoke mostly to myself, he didn’t make any sign of hearing me. I felt the pressure building! I knew I couldn’t hold it for long, and I wasn’t ready for it to end. Our dicks slid past in constant contact. Feeling in double was more amazing than my mind could handle! I knew what would postpone the inevitable, so my balls started to shrink as his, still confined by boxer briefs, started to grow. My up-and-down motion increased in ferocity as his growing balls inflamed his lust. Both balls pushed down the band of his underwear, growing too big to fit between the elastic and his massive thighs. He started thrusting his hips in time with his lifts. The skin-to-skin contact of our dicks allowed me to continue the growth, so I pushed more size into his globular ass and his thrusting doubled in intensity. I heard fabric tear, and I watched in the mirror as rips began to form along seams in his shirt. The valleys of his back stretched his shirt while hard mountains of muscle jutted outward nearby. His rock hard, ten-inch dick ground into my much smaller thigh. Our dicks moved in concert, pressed down between us and close together. A soft thwacking came from between his legs as his big balls dropped lower and thumped against hard, muscular thighs. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! “Fuck!” was all he could say. “Shh!” I cautioned him. I poured my muscle into him like gushing water freed from a restricting dam! Pound after pound transferred from me to him. My body weight dropped in his arms and that seemed to only increase his frantic grinding. His increasing size fought for more and more of the limited space. I took up less and less, my toned, swimmers body becoming that of a skinny teenager. He started to groan, but I released a hand and shoved it into his mouth! Shirt threads strained. Jeans stretched to the max. Sleeves began to explode. The top buttons of his shirt popped and his deep pec cleavage became exposed. I gazed down at those perfect, round pecs bouncing in time with his thrusts. Then his dick again crept down his thigh. It thickened more, now pressing painfully into my weakened leg. It felt like a hard, hot iron rod forced against me! But still it grew, rock-solid, inching slowly closer to his knee. My up-and-down movements were accelerating. My hair brushed the top of the cabin. His powerful back worked harder so more of his growing dick rubbed against less of mine. I felt my cock shrinking to seven, then six, then five inches. His manhood must have doubled since we met, both in thickness and in length. Then finally he bit down hard on my fingers! The thwacking increased in frequency. I felt his big balls rising! He shuddered in pleasure as he climaxed. Wave after wave of wet cum shot from his hose of a cock and soaked my jeans. I felt orgasm wash over him and echo through me! My fingers ached, but our combined pleasure drowned out the pain. His beautiful, sparkling blue eyes looked into mine, his cock still unloading load after load onto my leg. His eyes glazed over as he put me down, panting. His huge chest heaved up and down with each breath. He looked incredible! His shirt had ripped in multiple places and so had his jeans. Moving very slowly, very carefully, and deliberately, I knelt down. He took up so much space that moving was no easy task. However, my much smaller body made it easier to navigate in the tight space. I placed my mouth next to his cock. It looked glorious and huge. I used one hand to place the softening head into my mouth. The other I used to grab my own still hard five inches of cock and jerked. I licked him clean and let his dick grow a bit more. The head took up slightly more space in my mouth. I engulfed as much of him as could fit and still let it grow. My five inches became four, and I came. The four or five shots from me paled in comparison. My jeans were soaked. Doing his best to move, he reached behind and grabbed a paper towel. I took it and cleaned the floor beneath me. Then I leaned back against the wall, kneeling there for some time just gazing into his eyes. Those magical, blue eyes atop a bodybuilder I had created. He tried and failed to stuff his massive soft appendage back into too tight jeans. He couldn’t button them so he simply shrugged and left his pants undone. His boxers covered just enough to get by. He left the bathroom first. The door swung outward and I stood. He stepped forward but stopped. His gorgeous, globular ass pushed against my spent crotch when he bent down to pick up a small white card. I hadn’t noticed he’d dropped it. He stood up and headed back towards his seat. I closed the door and fell back against the toilet. Wow. The whole encounter probably lasted ten minutes. I’d given him much more than expected, but the look in his beautiful blue eyes made it all worthwhile. I washed my hands and did my best to clean off my jeans. I swam in my clothes. Before long, I followed him out into the aisle, glancing around nervously, worried that somebody might smell his cum. I received a few glances but most were focused on him. We took our seats. Our aisle companion seemed confused to find significantly less armrest space than before. 15B turned and grinned at me. “I’m John,” he said smiling. “We’ve got to do this again sometime -- soon,” he said and pushed his muscular leg against my now shrunken one. I placed my hand on his thigh, quickly finding his soft megacock. “I’ve got your card. I’ll call you,” he said in a whisper, winking. The intercom interrupted my response. “Please prepare for landing.” He turned away but let my hand linger. We didn’t exchange another word for the remainder of the flight.
  16. Chapter six is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13390-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-six/ Professor Schnackenburg's mistake Chapter Seven It was an hour later. Despite the fight with the police officers, his Master had found the information he needed, and The Master had given an order. Jack left the university building, hesitated for a moment, but he knew what to do. Dazed, his powerful mass walked through the nocturnal, desterted streets stained by drizzling, glistening rain, and he returned to The Steel Factory. The door was unlocked, but the illumination by the entrance was out of order. The dim light from a vendor machine and the tanning department drove away the darkness of the night, and it seemed like some of the LED lamps upstairs had recovered from Kortoth-Gnaah’s powerblast, since a mild golden light streamed down the staircase. The titanic warrior, which had once been Jack, ascended the stairs. * * * It wasn’t fair. He was the most muscular bro at campus, and it wasn’t fair. Was the most muscular bro. Was. Wasn’t anymore. Hot water was streaming down Cody’s back, where he sat in the locker-room shower. Cody wallowed in self-pity, and he hated himself for doing it. He was supposed to be self-confident, and his best mate Jack had jokingly rebuked him now and then for being ’too cocky’. Like he treated Tiny Tim in the past. Tiny Tim, who wasn’t tiny anymore. The war-god had chosen Tim, not Cody. Cody’s guts felt cold and something twisted inside. He wasn’t used to feel like this, like some sense of safety and security had been robbed from him. Taken away from him. By Tim. Big Tim, now. By the war-god. His dick twitched. By seeing his best mate Jack become godlike. Hot water streamed down his back, and splashed on his slowly engorging cock. The sight of the other young men in the gym becoming beings from a barbarian-movie… Cody shivered. He felt devastated. Hot water drizzling on his naked, tanned and smooth skin. Icy vulnerability inside. His dick shrunk and became limp again. Vulnerability. He heard the door to the locker-room. He didn’t want to be seen like this. Usually, he was the king of the locker-room, playing silly pranks, slapping other guys with his towel. Even gave someone a wedgie once, in the beginning, but never repeated it, since Jack called it ’immature’. Steps in the locker-room. Cody wanted to disappear. Not to be seen. He arose from the floor tiles, fumbling for something to grasp, and burned himself lightly on a hot-water pipe. The shower steamed, streamed and drizzled. When he looked up from his burned palm, he saw Jack. The new improved Jack. Like standing before Conan. Or He-Man. But not drawn. But in the flesh. Steel-hard, bulging flesh. Jack. Best mate, Jack. Jack still had the same, friendly eyes as usual. As before. But his gaze looked strangely off, like he was hypnotised. The shower wettened Jack’s fur-cape. He throw it out from the shower area, into the space for the lockers. ”Hello Cody.” The fully dressed Jack stood in front of the entirely naked Cody. Vulnerability. Cody fumbled, and turned the shower off. ”Are you… Are you yourself, Jack?” ”i am still myself, Cody, but I am also something more. I have tasted the power of Kortoth-Gnaah. The Master knows my thoughts and my feelings, and The Masters commands are resounding in my mind.” ”You look awesome, bro.” Jack flexed his exposed arms. Veins crawled. Jack’s mountainous bicepses grew. Jack’s powerful tricepses perfected the impression of muscular strength. Friendship, envy and some sort of unutterable lust competed for Cody’s attention. His dick awakened again, and embarrassment was added to his emotional turmoil: No homo! ”I wish I could have joined you.” ”I am sorry, Cody, but you have always been an individualist. The men of Anghra-Lemur are parts of a tribe. You have to be loyal to the tribe.” ”So that is what is all about: Loyalty to the tribe?” ”Do you want to fight the enemies of the The Master together with all members of the tribe?” Cody’s face expressed several feelings: Yes! Loyalty to a tribe! Belonging! One in the team! But not together with Tim. And definitely not together with his rival, Magnussen. Jack watched him. Cody watched Jack. In the steamy shower area, Jack was beginning to emit scents: Furs wet from rainwater and hot steam. Bronze chainmail slowly turning into verdigris. The leather clothes of a barbarian. Male sweat. His best friend was so close now. He tried to think on something to let that boner disappear, but he couldn’t concentrate. ”You are who you are, Cody, but when The Master gave me an order, I got an idea. Forget what I said about the tribe, but would you fight the enemies together with me? Do you wish to join me?” ”Hell, yeah, bro! Why do you ask? You know what I want and what I wish. You are my best mate, ever.” A brief hesitation shadowed Jack’s brow for a second, then he changed posture. ”Then, trust me. Dont be afraid. I’m sorry for how this must be done. Goodbye, Cody. You had your quirks, but they were your quirks. The quirks of a very good friend. I’m so sorry I will no more see you face to face.” ”What do you mean, no more see me? What do…” Jack took a step forward. Cody could feel the big, warm paw of the barbarian of Anghra-Lemur on his shoulder, and he felt close to his friend. Then, the other big hand surrounded Cody’s throbbing cock, and Cody’s eyes widened. ”Wait, bro. No homo. I’m…” He could feel it. Something strange was happening. He felt weaker. He couldn’t protest against Jack’s unheard of behaviour. He couldn’t understand what was happening. He looked up in Jack’s worrying, warm, friendly eyes. Seconds went by. Then, it slowly dawned what was happening. He was shrinking. His once so beefy chest was imploding, and his usually brawny arms were becoming the arms of a pipsqueak. His abs became more visible, but his legs were becoming chicken-legs. He wavered, and Jack’s grip around his dick disappeared, now steadying Cody from falling. ”Wait! Jack! What’s happening? What are you doing? Don’t do this to me! My gains! You are robbing me of my gains!” Gently, Jack lowered Cody to the floor, and sat on Cody’s knees. He loosened the leather straps, that kept the chainmail together around his neck, and he took the chainmail off, shovering it outside into the locker area. Then his leather-trimmed linen vest, exposing his powerful naked chest, and his steel-hard abs. Jack’s entire torso throbbed by power, and sweat was trickling from his temples. Cody felt entirely powerless. The icon of masculinity, which was his best friend, had him subdued, and the grip around his shoulder and dick returned. There was nothing he could do to stop it. The barbarian robbed him of his gains and drained him of muscular strength. One part of his mind screamed in utmost fear, but another part of him saw the visage of what he had once dreamed of becoming, his best friend, now growing even more massive and powerful. His cock became harder in the grip of his best friend, the steel titan. ”No, Jack! I don’t want to… Jack! Listen to me! I want to keep my gains! My muscles… They are disappearing… No! Jack, this feel… So weak now… Don’t… My…” Still the feeling of care and consideration in Jack’s eyes, despite this brutal subjection of his best friend. Jack’s face expressed concern, but the loving gaze was increasingly mixed with the facial expressions of an intoxicating power-craze. ”I am sorry, Cody. I’m sorry, but this was the only way. I have to obey The Master. I must obey him. I must assimilate you! We will be together for ever. Can’t believe how this feel! Your strength!” The barbarian of Anghra-Lemur sat on the heap of skin and bones, that once had been Cody. Cody’s dick was still throbbing in the firm grip of the barbarian, and Cody’s fear had turned into insane rambling. ”Yes! Look at you! You are more powerful than ever. That strength! Those arms! These pecs! My muscle mass added to your’s. Assimilate me, Master! Let me feed your muscular brawn! Let me…” Cody’s complexion turned from his usual handsome tan into the greyish hue of someone close to death. The once powerful dudebro was a haggard skeleton, with sunken eyes peeking out from deep sockets. A mist of lucent green sparks had began to arise from Cody’s corpse-like shape, and the barbarian thrived of this life-force. Jack’s entire torso throbbed of strength and vitality, his bronzed complexion glistening of sweat. The lucent green sparks grew in number and intensity. With a weak yelp, the last life-force left Cody: ”Best mate.” In the next second, Jack could feel Cody’s cock ejaculating in his fist, and he could feel all remaining traces of Cody becoming lucent green sparks. He inhaled, and the sparks enterd into his system, becoming one with him. Jack shivered. Cody. Best mate. He could feel his body engorge, as the orgasm of his muscle-drained friend transmuted into testosterone-crazed muscle-ecstacy. He buzzed and brimmed of life-force and muscular strength. It was even more intense, than his initial transformation into one of the men of Anghra-Lemur. He opened his eyes. No traces of Cody. He sighed in relief. He hadn’t been sure of how this would work. He arose, but left his clothes in the locker-room. He wanted to see the result. He went into the weight room, turned towards the mirrors and took the sight of himself in. Whooah! He looked bigger, indeed! He hadn’t known what to expect of the merge of two muscular men into one. He felt a weird urge to feel the weights, and went to the leg press: 200 kilo grammes. No it wasn’t enough. 250, 300, no – 425 kilo grammes! He repeated the reps. Again. Again. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Eleven reps. 425 kilo grammes. Oh. The pump. The pump in his legs! And his chest. His pecs. They screamed for the weights. For the steel. One hundred isn’t enough. Two hundred. Two hundred and seventyfive: 275 kilo grammes! Again. And again. Eight. Nine. Another one! Yes! Ten! Ten reps at 275 kilo grammes. Tearing his pecs apart, letting the blood flood his pecs, infusing them with pump and power. He approached the stand, and picked a pair of dumbbells up. Sixty kilogrammes. Nope, too light-weight. ONE HUNDRED kilogrammes each! Yeah! That felt better. He began his biceps curls. Yes! Another curl! Tearing his muscle fibres apart, preparing for more growth. Another one! Five, six, seven reps. More! Blood began to stream to his newly trained legs and chest. And to his biceps, as he pumped the iron, causing his biceps to become more filled with blood. Another set. Yes! It felt amazing. A feeling of pump different from any time before. His quads and hamstrings were becoming steel-hard, and his chest felt like the bow of a massive ice breaker, ready to crush icebergs as his mighty hulk (in the original sense of the word) unstoppably moved forward. A third set. A fourth. ONE HUNDRED kilo grammes! … Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, uh, to failure! Eleven! He dropped the heavy dumbbells at the rubber-coated floor, and stared at himself in the mirror-coated wall, and he felt fresh blood stream into his biceps, and his entire musculature: A pump of delight. A peaceful mood spreading in his mind and his entire body. He stared. He liked what he saw. He took the sight of himself in. A brutally built warrior from Anghra-Lemur stared back at him in the mirror. The LED lights shone down at his body, enhancing the shapes and contrasts of his muscles, including the shadow under his two bulging hemispheric pecs. Jack still kept his usual boyishly charming looks, but already at his first transformation, a few hours ago, something more mature and fierce had emerged in his visage. Now, merged with Cody, something of Cody’s arrogant smirk could be hinted at in the corners of his mouth, and something had happened to his cheek and chin: The dimple Cody used to have in his chin was his now, and the dimples that used to become visible when Cody laughed, was his also, but his eyes were still his own: The eyes of gentleness. Whooah! He would never had described himself pretentiously like that… That was the expression Cody used once, when he was drunk, and let his tough-guy persona drop for a minute. Thinking about it, Jack usually didn’t spend much time in front of the gym mirrors. Unlike Cody. Perhaps he guessed right when he decided to assimilate Cody: Cody could have his wishes, after all? Perhaps he had assimilated more than Cody’s muscle mass? Perhaps… ”Bro. I’m here. Look at us!” Jack felt relief. It had worked. He felt the urge – Cody’s urge, which he now shared – to show off and watch himself. He took the sight of himself in, and shivered. A brutally built warrior from Anghra-Lemur stared back at him in the mirror. Yes, look at us! He swallowed. A being out of a cartoon for cheerfully adventure-loving boys; a being out of a fast-paced action film for young men with newly awakened testosterone; a being out of the never-gauged dark undersea trenches of the adult masculine mind looked back: Clad in furs and leather intentionally aimed, in the dreams of unknown older gods, to reveal the strength and prowess of the wearer, the brutally built warrior looked like something far beyond the imagined heroes of the silver screen and the telly. His bodily shape went beyond the impossibly built physiques of carefree cartoon heroes and toys from his childhood. His confident personal charisma went far beyond any action filmstar, and he had seen a similar unspoken threatening promise of potential brute force ready to spring into action among men with a past in the armed forces, but in his own case it was now heightened and multiplied beyond anything he had seen before, with one particular exception – Kortoth-Gnaah, The Master, the war-god of the Sunken Hundred. Since he had left his chainmail and his fur mantle in the locker room, his sun tanned torso was naked and exposed, his blood-filled muscles throbbing of muscular power beyond anything he had seen or felt before. He moved his palm to his left pec and squeezed. It was hard as steel. He let his pecs dance and jump, and stared in disbelief and delight. Fragments and remnants of Cody’s mind roared inside Jack’s soul, in ecstacy at their shared strength, and Jack allowed himself to be captured by Cody’s ecstatic roar. YES! ROOOAARR! Look at this! His palm and fingers explored the ravines between his abs, and he could feel his manhood awake inside his leather pouch. He flexed his right biceps and stared at it, then explored it with his lips, leaving it wet as he stared at it, mesmerised by his own might and size. Pleasure flowed slowly and delightfully through his veins as golden honey, and the unburning flames of raw, primal and undiluted masculine power flickered in his engorged muscles, from his monumental legs and power stoking loins, to his uncrushable abs, well-defined obliques, pumped pecs, mountainous traps and bulging arms. ROOOAARR! Look at this! A barbarian warrior who would take Conan or He-Man down, if they had existed. Maculinity incarnate. He wasn’t strong: He was Strength itself! He wasn’t muscular: He was Muscle itself. He wasn’t powerful: He was Power itself! The pump! Incredible! His muscles recovering impossibly fast from his sets with the steel! The pleasure flowing inside him! His mind bathing in pure testosterone… PURE TESTOSTERONE, bro! Do you feel, it Jack! Do you feel the same I feel? Do we share it? Engorged. Throbbing. The sound of his pulse in his ears. In his temples. Yes, Cody, I feel it. He swallowed. THEY swallowed. Together. Jack with Cody. Cody with Jack. Sharing. This. This strength. This power. Fuck! Do you feel that, bro? Our strength. Our power. Our brawn. Their dick a steel rod now. Steel rod throbbing inside leather. Rubbing against the leather pouch. All these muscles. All this brawn. The veins. The testo. Our. Together. Look at that chest! Fuck! All this pump! Can’t believe it! More than… Oh! Oh, better than anything he could have… Look at this! Look at me! Look at this brutal fukker, no one will mess with… He took the sight of himself in, and touched his forearms. His veins crawled, more blood-filled and visible than ever. His muscles looked like they grew at a visible rate, bronzed, bulbous, steel-hard and shiny of sweat. The golden honey of pleasure turned into a stream of brutal empowerment, and he was afire with indomitable might. Uh. Indomitable might! Pure… un-di-lu-ted… mas-cu-line… in-do-mi-ta-ble… might… He was entranced by the sight of the being in the mirror that was himself. The rugged, stalwart, invulnearable, confident, leather-clad, martial brawn-beast built by bulging steel-brawn and pure… un-di-lu-ted… mas-cu-line… in-do-mi-ta-ble… might… Uhnnn! Brawn-beast! Took the sight of himself... in... Invulnerable! Bulging steel-brawn! Me! Us! That! Together! Best mate! Pure… un-di-lu-ted… Oh fuck! Can’t believe! Mas-cu-line… in-do-mi-ta-ble… Spasms of bliss exploded in their shared mind and in their shared body, and their steel-rod exploded inside the leather pouch. It took minutes for them to regain awareness of their surroundings. * * * Next chapter is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13595-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-eight/
  17. spacevlad

    Chuck the Size Thief

    Hey everybody, just wanted to post this here as well. I finally finished my newest story and will be posting it in the replies below over the next few days. It's my take on the muscle theft genre. I've been slowly but surely cranking this out over the last year and a half or so, and it's over 40k words long, so strap in! If you like ginger musclebear giants, muscle theft/drain, big guys growing huge, mindless addiction to getting bigger and bigger, and/or greedy meatheads turning into giants, then this story is for you!
  18. Preface Dear muscledrain, You wanted a magic switch of brains and brawn. I could have chosen to make the protagonist a black-metal kid called Moonsorrow Bloodpain, who invoked Cthulhu, or something similar, to facilitate the magic, but then both himself and his recently muscular friend would eventually have been eaten by unnamable and eldritch primordial spacegods of the elder days, and – as I understood your story idea – you expected something slightly more feelgood than that. But which sort of magic would be feelgood? Classical gods from Greece and Rome transforming mortal men is a story idea already used several times over at Metabods (Dionysus and Mars, if I remember correctly), so that idea was already taken. It then struck me, that some people out there IRL believe in a sort of magic Moonsorrow Bloodpain definitely would shun: Hoodoo – which is a mix of native Congolese religion, Protestantism, Dutch folklore, Catholicism (since the 1960’s) and slight traces of renaissance esotericism. It would probably be feelgood enough. But then another dilemma emerged: Which red-blooded, sports obsessed young male in a predominantly Agnostic environment would get the idea to even ask an eccentric and mysterious hoodoo lady for help? I then realised that bodybuilding and martial arts are very popular among young Syriac men, and that they – however laddish they are indeed – often have an honest respect for the saints. I have also observed that a lot of MMA fighters like to wear rosaries. Some of my former neighbours are Syriacs – very nice and friendly people with a flair for making good food. This is the way one of the protagonists was invented. I want to thank sithspawn, CardiMuscleman, mrk78, yourself, and some others for very valuable linguistic and stylistic advice. To write in a foreign language is full of potential errors. Any remaining errors are my own fault. Just as Northern Americans (and I don’t mean Canadians and Bahamians at the moment) let their Muscle Growth Stories take place in the US (or in a fictitious country identical to the US when it comes to educational system and cultural patterns, such as sports scholarships, pompoms, American football and resident colleges), I will, as a Swede, let the following story occur in a fictitious country with an educational system and cultural patterns indistinguishable from the Swedish ones: an academic year consisting of two semesters (not three terms), no school uniforms, pupils/students living at home with their parents at least until the age of 19, mixed social backgrounds at many (but not all) schools, and Agnostics observing Christian holidays. The difference between working class and middle class is probably more subtle and fluid over here than in other parts of the world – at least that was my impression on vacation in UK and Italy. The city in the story is, however, a city that never was. It will be futile, if any other Scandinavians reading this will try to figure out exactly where the story takes place: Everywhere and nowhere. The spelling of surnames have been anglicised. That wasn’t, however, necessary with the first names, which could pass for many nationalities just as they are. Comics readers: Look out for the easter egg. I hope you will have fun! With a little help from magic Chapter One The cold wind pushed the red and yellow leaves over the schoolyard with a rustling sound. The sky was grey. Inside the sixth form brick building, lockers were clattering, and the sound of many voices blended into a tiresome murmur. Feet swiftly hurried to lecture rooms. John had put his rucksack in his locker, and was taking his chemistry book out, when he heard a disturbingly familiar voice behind him: ’Isn’t it Swotter? Oi! Swotter, I’m speaking to you!’ The eighteen-year-old closed the locker, and tried to look in another direction. Sometimes it worked. ’Look at me, when I’m talking to you!’ A hand on his shoulder. A foot behind his heel. Suddenly, John found himself on the floor and the chemistry book a few metres to the left, between another row of lockers. It was Peter and his friends. As usual. Peter and his little crowd of followers had made primary school, secondary school and two years of sixth form a living hell for John, and there was no sign that anything would change, until John left for university in another city and Peter’s gang left school most likely in order to face unemployment. Peter put his black cowboy boot on John’s chest. Like his chums, Peter had enthusiastically embraced the 50’s revival when it became fashionable, and they all tried really hard to look like exaggerated stereotypes of 50’s rockers. Most of them wore black leather jackets, unbleached denim jeans, and white T-shirts or plaid shirts, and they had put some gunk in their hair and combed it in a 1950’s style. Unlike some of his friends, Peter hadn’t been able to afford a leather jacket, so he wore a cheap denim jacket instead, and had sewn a Confederate flag on it, in the belief that ’that was very rock’n’roll’. ’Is that an army jersey, Swotter? Considering joining the forces?’ John felt embarrassed. If he kept silent, it would just go on. If he answered, the result would be identical. ’It is a hunter’s jersey.’ ’We didn’t know you were hunting! Did we, lads?’ ’I don’t, but I take photographs of rare birds. The jersey protects from cold weather.’ ’Scared of blood, I see. It wouldn’t be a good idea to join the army then? Would it, Swotter?’ ’I said it isn’t an army jersey. Ouch!’ Peter had moved his boot to John’s Adam’s apple. ’Listen very carefully. If I were you, I wouldn’t insult our brave boys in green by wearing that jersey, whatever you call it. Now take it off!’ ’But… Ouch!’ Peter increased the pressure on John’s Adam’s apple, then removed his foot, and came closer to John, sitting in a squatting position. Peter grabbed John’s jersey, and minuscule stains of spit rained on John’s face when Peter shouted. ’Now, you little pansy, you take that jersey off – either putting it in the cafeteria garbage bin or giving it to Anderson here. He deserves it better than you. Isn’t that right Anderson?’ Anderson, a blond football player, about the same height as John, but considerably more athletic, had been a henchman of Peter for years. He had a smug grin on his face. ’And what do you think you are doing, you friggin’ racist?’ Peter and his friends had to turn around. John rose from the floor, dusted away spots of sand from his clothes, and looked for his chemistry book. The newcomer who had spoken was Simon, the tall leftie intellectual from the other science class. Peter leered at him. It seemed that he had met Simon before. ’Don’t meddle, Simon. This isn’t your concern.’ ’Sure it is. Yesterday, you and your gang bullied Aram’s little brother and neighbour. But after what I can see today, you like to bully anyone, regardless of origin. Ridiculous greasers!’ John adjusted his eyeglasses, and now saw that Simon wasn’t alone. He had brought Aram, the brawny Syriac hockey guy, and Carl, the anti-racist skinhead, with him. Although Peter and his friends outnumbered Simon and his friends with five to three, Peter sized up his opponents a few seconds. Although not very muscular (but rather on the slim side), Simon was tall, and it was well-known at the school that he had practiced kung-fu, before his deep commitment in the Anarchist Student Society, Amnesty International, the local melocore club (and a handful of other associations) had limited the time available on exercise. Two years ago, Simon and John had served together in the Student Council, and John had appreciated Simon’s wit. Carl was shorter than Simon, but taller than Aram. He spent some time at the gym, but not as strictly and devotedly as Aram obviously did. His shaved head gave him an aggressive demeanour, and that impression was enhanced by the gauge in his earlobe, his snug fitting maroon polo shirt, the blue braces that contrasted well against the maroon background, the bleached jeans, and the extremely well-polished, heavy and steel-capped boots on his feet. His black Alpha bomber jacket was covered with patches and pins: ’Skinheads Against Racial Prejudice’, ’The Oppressed’, ’The Burial’, ’Operation Ivy’, ’FC St. Pauli’. He oozed of angry adolescent masculinity. Aram was of average height, but more broad-shouldered than any of the young men. He had an innately muscular constitution, and had been in good shape already during his time in the hockey team. When he left secondary school, and began his sixth form education, he had left the hockey team in order to take up martial arts of some sort, and also joined a gym. He now looked like a bodybuilder without any body fat, and moved like a tiger: A very broad shouldered tiger. During their entire time at school, Aram had always been so absorbed by exercise, that he never noticed if bullying occurred somewhere around him. If Aram had begun to spend time with a decent guy like Simon, it was probably a step in the right direction. After eyeing his opponents, Peter ordered his crowd to leave. ’Everything alright now?’, Simon asked. ’Yes. Thank you for helping me.’ ’To be honest, it was just a coincidence, but I am glad that we could be of assistance. Aram here is beginning to develop a social conscience by hanging with me and Carl, aren’t you?’ Aram mumbled something, and looked down into the floor. ’I’m late to the student newspaper meeting. Later.’ Simon disappeared around a corner. Carl had to leave his bomber jacket in his locker, and was on his way to a math lesson, but Aram was scheduled for the same chemistry class as John. They were late. ’You both know that late arrival will affect your grades. It will perhaps not concern you very much, John, but in your case, Aram, I would be worried.’ It was Mr. Gustavson, the chemistry teacher, known for his sardonic personality, and secretly nicknamed ’Snape’ among the students. ’As I said before you arrived, you have to team up in pairs and study how a primitive form of plastic is produced. It is a very simple example of how polymers behave.’ ’It seems like we have to lab together, today’, John said shyly. Aram didn’t speak very much while he assisted John, but, despite their late arrival, they were the first among the students to achieve a nice cylinder of plastic in a test tube in the end of the lesson. That gave Aram an idea. * * * It had been a few days earlier, during the Sunday church lunch at the Orthodox church of St. James’. ’Ameen. Moryo nqabel qurbonokh, wlan n’adar bashlawothokh.’ The last prayer in the extremely ancient Aramaic-speaking Christian liturgy ended, and the congregation left the room, kissing the Gospel Book at the entrance, and receiving pieces of non-consecrated bread. There were old ladies in mantillas, old men in their three-piece Sunday best, lots of parents with children, a dark-eyed and doe-eyed girl’s choir in choir dress, and a bunch of young men slightly younger or older than Aram. The last group was the most noisy one, and the lads were joking and playing with each other. Most of them wore jeans, expensive jerseys and shirts, but a few of the oldest ones wore suits, and some of the younger ones were dressed in tracksuit pants and hoodies. Most of them were dark haired and wore a lot of hair gel, but some were buzzcut, and two of them were redheaded. Many of them wore sturdy golden chains around their necks, from which crucifixes or the Syriac nationalist symbol of a feathered archer hang. Some of the attendees immediately left the parking lot, but most stayed inside for the Sunday church lunch. A buffet was prepared: Bulgur mixed with roasted noodles, tabbouleh – a salad of parsley, couscous, tomatoes, onions, garlic, mint leaves, lemon and olive oil – and several smaller bowls filled with falafel, dolma, chickpea sauce and eggplant sauce. Aram sat down with his mother, his uncle and his aunt. His mother was putting her folded mantilla in her purse, now when she no longer stood inside the consecrated room. ’Listen Aram’, uncle Benjamin began, ’there is a thing your mother and I have been talking about.’ Uh, uh. Now it comes again. Aram felt tired of this. His uncle meant well, but it felt like he was picking on him. ’Before your father died, I promised him, that I would help you become a doctor, just like your father and your grandfather. We have talked about this before: You have to achieve better grades, otherwise you will not be able to study medicine.’ A steel grey lady in her sixties approached the table. Mother and aunt Layla rose, gathered around her, and began to discuss with her in the old language. Aram wasn’t good at the old language. He was born in the new country, and spoke its language without any accent. ’Your mother and I are worried about you. The medical trade is a family tradition, but your grades have not been good the last years.’ ’But you are not a doctor. You own a grocery shop.’ ’This discussion is not about me, young man, but about you. If you begin medical studies, I promise to help you financially, but if you don’t, you can’t expect any money from me for university.’ * * * It was a day later. Aram and his girlfriend Emma entered the room for the history lesson. ’Hi, Emelie!’, Emma shouted, and claimed a chair close to her friend Emelie. Emma and Emelie didn’t at all have the same preferences when it came to style, but were friends anyhow. Emma was a blonde young woman with black high rise slim fit jeans and a yellow top which revealed some of her cleavage. Her shoes were yellow Converse. Emelie, on the other side, had dyed her hair black, and wore a black dress with a lot of lace. Around Emelie’s neck hang several pendants of different sorts: A cross, a star of David and a pentagram. She didn’t discriminate between religions, but it was also possible that she didn’t care very much for what the symbols signified for other people. Aram looked around, and when he found that the chair close to John was empty, he sat down beside John. ’Hello again. Do you mind if i sit here?’ They both unpacked their laptops, and had to end their chat, since their history teacher, Mr. Johanson, had began to talk. Mr. Johanson was one of the oldest teachers at the school, and didn’t have many years left until retirement. He always wore black jeans, a sleeveless pullover and a tweed jacket. Unlike the younger male teachers, who dressed less strictly, he always had a tie knit around his neck. His hair was white and slightly receding. ’The world events of the 20th century, would probably had been very different, if World War One hadn’t occurred. The stern conditions of the peace treaty of 1919, caused many Germans and Austrians to feel disproportionally and unjustly punished, and that prepared the way for Hitler and the Second World War. For the British Empire, the end of the war initiated the slow devolvement of the empire: The Irish Free State was declared in 1922, and in 1931 dominions – such as Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Newfoundland, South Africa and the Irish Free State – were defined as ’completely self-governing’. Some sorts of constitutional reforms would probably have occurred in Russia anyhow, but not necessarily in the revolutionary Bolshevik way it now did: Don’t forget that the February Revolution in 1917 was about limiting the power of the Czar constitutionally, and preparing the way for free elections, general suffrage and civil liberties. The Bolsheviks didn’t grab the political power until October, and would probably not have reached the necessary level of initial popular support, if the Russian people hadn’t been exhausted by three years of warfare. The war also caused USA to change the way it behaved in international politics. During the 19th century the Monroe doctrine had isolated the US from international politics, but – with the exception of the Philippine-American War about a decade before World War One – the US had until then avoided entanglement in any conflict far beyond its own borders. From a certain point of view, the Philippine-American War and World War One, became templates for what later happened in Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. The history of the 20th century is impossible to understand without World War One as the background. When we now begin to look closer…’ John felt good sitting so close to the big and warm lump of muscles. John hadn’t thought much about it before, but became now aware of the warm brown colour of Aram’s eyes, like brown gemstones reflecting a golden light. Aram emitted a nice scent of some sort of anti-perspirant, but probably not an expensive one. The presence of Aram made him feel comforted and protected. Aram had never or seldom preferred to sit beside John before, so this was something new. The lesson had ended. ’John, you are really smart. Would you possibly help me with homework? I want to get better test results, and who better than you?’ ’We could have begun this years ago, if you just had asked. Which day would be best for you? I often go by bus to Willow Lake in Thursdays. Wildlife photography, you know. And I suppose you exercise very often. Which day would be best for you?’ They agreed to keep Tuesdays open for study together. Emma approached them. ’You must hear this, Aram! Emelie has found such a cute shop with books and magic candles and stuff, and I could probably have my horoscope done. Isn’t it amazing? You must follow me and Emelie to that shop after school!’ * * * The following afternoon, Emelie, Emma and Aram got on the tram, and went to a picturesque part of the city Aram seldom visited. They left the tram at a stop just outside a Neo-gothic church building called Holy Trinity, and then followed a narrow and meandering, cobblestone paved alley on their way to the shop Emelie had mentioned. The houses were small and old here, but some of them seemed to have been restored recently, as an effect of ongoing gentrification. Withered roses and dark green ivy covered some of the exteriors. They passed by a tailor’s shop, a vegetarian restaurant, a dentist’s clinic and a former – now closed – bicycle workshop. A few of the buildings seemed to have been turned into homes very recently – which was easily recognised through the fresh plaster in yellow, lavender or dove blue colours, but other buildings were still shabby, some of them derelict. ’Here it is.’, Emelie announced. Aram got a first impression of the shop. He had definitely not seen it before. Grey stairs of stone led downwards to a door under street level. Two rather small shop-windows before his knees announced: Madame Cremorna. Books. Herbs. Readings. It felt a little bit spooky, but Emelie enthusiastically led them downstairs, and opened the door. A bell tinkled. The first thing that he noticed was the scent. The fragrance of many sorts of herbs and incenses mixed with each other. He felt awkward again. This wasn’t the sort of place a masculine guy like himself was expected to frequent. Wasn’t there something slightly feminine or gay about this scent? He considered to leave immediately, but that could make Emma mad at him. He didn’t want that. The second thing he noticed was the broad mix of things in the room. This was not just a book shop. The books were there, for sure – he saw a rotating stand with them: How To Earn Money By Positive Thinking. The Dolphins Speak: Telepathic Messages From Our Cousins In The Sea. The New Age Of The Flying Saucers. It could have been an ordinary New Age shop, but he could also see tin boxes with herbs, packets of soap or dry foodstuff with Spanish labels, shelfs with incense sticks and small jars with the sort of incense grains he was able to recognise from church. His association to church was increased, when he found shelves carrying a large number of glass encased novena candles with stickers depicting saints. Some of them he could recognise, but, with his family background, he was more familiar with Eastern saints than Western, and the identity of some Western saints on the candles were undecipherable. The cash register stood upon a glass desk. Inside the desk he could see decks of cards in many shapes. He hadn’t seen any cards like these before. ’How do you play poker with these?’, he asked Emelie. ’They are not for poker, stupid.’, she answered, ’They are divination decks, for reading the future’. ’I am not sure I believe in that.’, Aram replied. Just now he wasn’t sure exactly what he believed. There was an eerie feeling in the shop. He wanted to get out. ’You are free to believe in anything you want. We are all responsible for how we use our freedom, and it is unwise to go against your own conscience.’ The alto voice vibrated with a rich timbre. It belonged to a woman in her early sixties. She had probably looked good during her younger days, and she obviously still cared about her appearance. Her hair was black, without any traces of silver in it yet, and she was dressed in a rust-coloured dress and a dark grey vest of wool. Around her neck hang a tin pendant depicting a very complicated geometrical pattern. In her younger days, she could have been a hippie. ’I’m sorry lady, but I can’t believe in telepathic dolphins and flying saucers.’ Aram waved in the direction of the rotating book stand. ’To be honest, I am not at all impressed by these books myself, but some of my customers ask for them, so I sell them. It pays the rent.’ There was a slight, possibly American-English, accent when she spoke, but very faint. ’So you don’t believe in the supernatural, yourself?’ ’Oh. I do! But that depends on what you call supernatural. If you mean telepathic dolphins, saucers, physical trolls or god-kings inside a hollow Earth, I do not believe in the supernatural.’ Emelie was studying the card decks inside the glass desk, but Emma stood by Aram’s side, hugging his arm. ’You are into sports, I suppose?’, the shop keeper asked him. ’Aram was a hockey player for many years.’, Emma answered proudly. ’And now I work out and practice martial arts.’, Aram continued. ’Then the psychology of sport can’t be unknown for you.’, Madame Cremorna said, ’And you surely must have experienced, how your own mind affects your physical achievements?’ ’Well. Yes. But that’s not supernatural.’ ’It is anyhow a part of scientific reality which borders to the supernatural – that is, supernatural in the sense I use the word.’ Aram was on his way to answer, but the shop keeper continued: ’And you belong perhaps to the Assyrian Church?’ Aram smiled: ’Close enough, but you were wrong there: I belong to the Syriac Orthodox Church. The Assyrians are our cousins.’ ’And you believe in God? And in angels? And in saints?’ ’Well. Yes, I do.’ ’The supernatural I believe in is about God, about angels, about saints, but also about sports psychology. It is admittedly not a complete description of what I do – far from it – but it seems like we are able to agree about a major part of it, anyhow.’ She was silent a few seconds. ’And what are you looking for? Books? Devotionals? Cards? A horoscope? Or do you want me to use magic for some purpose?’ ’We are just looking. Emelie told us about your shop, and it is just adorable’, Emma answered, ’but it looks much more Catholic than the other New Age shop on the other side the canal.’ Madame Cremorna smiled. ’It’s perhaps because it is not a New Age shop. Not in the general sense. It is inspired by botanicas of the sort common in Florida, where I grew up. We had a lot of Cubans and Puertoricans there.’ ’Have you lived in this part of the world for a long time?’ ’Quite a long time. Yes. My former boyfriend thought it was a good idea to move to Northern Europe a few years before the end of the Vietnam War.’ Emma continued to chat with the shop keeper for several minutes. Emelie still looked at the decks. Aram began to wander around in the shop. A square diagram with twenty-three arcane symbols hang on a wall. Bookshelves contained titles such as Three Books on Occult Philosophy, The Enchiridion, Selected prayers by Allan Kardec, and The Long-Lost Friend. A burgundy-coloured curtain covered door opening to an inner room. Curiously, Aram peeked inside. Several small tables were pushed up against the walls, covered with cloths in different colours. Candles were lit, scented in several different ways. The air was sweet and heavy. ’Uh oh. The inner sanctum is only open for some customers.’, Madame Cremorna said, where she stood behind his back. Aram blushed. ’I didn’t mean to do something wrong. Sorry, lady.’ When they left the shop, Emelie brought a recently bought tarot deck, and Emma carried a folder with her personal horoscope. * * * It was two days later. The bell tinkled in the usual way, when the door to the shop opened and closed. ’And what do you want, young man?’, she asked. ’I haven’t done well in my exams. I want to be sure my grades are good when I finish Sixth Form.’, Aram said. ’And when is that? If I hadn’t first met you with that young gothic girl and her friend, I would have guessed that you were older than a Sixth Form student.’ She eyed him knowingly. ’The last semester ends in June next year.’ Her face expressed mixed emotions: Pity, astonishment and a slight amount of aunt-like cunningness. ’Magic works normally through natural means, and natural means works slowly. A lesser working could have been enough, if you had asked me a year ago, and backed the magic up with real effort in class. But now, with just eight months…’ She didn’t end her sentence. There was a sad expression in Aram’s eyes, reminiscent of a very large, but very young and sad, puppy. The element of pity in Madame Cremorna’s eyes became more prominent. ’Let us discuss natural means first. You would probably learn more, if you do homework together with someone in your class, who’s got a talent for study.’ ’I already do.’ Aram told Madame Cremorna all about John. ’You have got a good new friend in him. Be nice to him.’, Madame Cremorna said. ’Homework with John helps, but not enough, and not fast enough. And I wish I could make mother and my uncle proud. But if you can’t help me…’ ’If something of what I do works, it is not because I have helped you, but because God has answered the prayers of several beings. Some call it magic, but ultimately all things and events comes from The Supreme Being anyhow. The ways and the means and the chains of events may vary, however. Or so is the way I see it.’ ’But you said, that I should have asked a year ago?’ ’I said, that a lesser working could have been enough then. With only eight months until graduation, I have to do a greater working, but only if you are ready to pay the price.’ ’I don’t own very much, but…’ ’I don’t talk about money. I talk about the willingness to choose talent for study before anything else. Wait. Don’t say anything yet. I will give you a reading.’ ’A reading?’ ’Just relax.’ She opened a purple bag of velvet, laid a pack of cards on the table, and mumbled a prayer. Aram couldn’t hear the words. She let him shuffle the cards, and then put three cards on the table cloth. The first card depicted a knight in armour, sitting on a horse. The second card depicted an old man with a beard, clothed in some sort of mediaeval brown gown, holding a staff with a snake – similar to the symbol sometimes used by hospitals and chemists – and holding a lantern in the other hand. By his feet lay a scythe and a hourglass. Far away, the presence of an owl could be distantly hinted at. The third card depicted a young man in renaissance clothes, carrying a round plate, smaller than a shield, but larger than a coin. From his bag a scroll and a quill pen peeked out. ’Hmm…’ Madame Cremorna didn’t say much for a while. Suddenly, she gathered all the cards into the deck again, and began shuffling. She laid the deck on the cloth, and pushed it over the table. ’Here. Shuffle, and think intensely about your friend John.’ Aram did what he was told to do, and gave her the deck again. ’That was all for today. Come back tomorrow afternoon, and I will tell you if I have found a way to help you.’ Aram felt a little bit disappointed. It had been stupid of him to come here, to begin with. He shrugged and left. When he had left, Madame Cremorna again lay three cards on the table. She was rather surprised to find the knight and the squire from the last reading come up again, but this time with reversed places: The squire with the plate to the left, and the knight with a sword to the right. The card in the middle was not the same. Where the card with the old bearded man had laid a few minutes ago, now lay a card depicting a half naked and extremely muscular man clothed in the skin rug of a lion. He had left his heavy club on the ground, and was breaking a stone pillar in two halves. Madame Cremorna remained almost expressionless, but one of her eyebrows twitched. She had got an idea. When Aram returned the next afternoon, he expected bad news. The shop keeper seemed, however, to be in a good mood, although perhaps mixed with an amount of harshness. She put two class encased candles on the desk. ’You are young. I will not let you pay the full price I charge an adult with full time salary. But you must be aware of the consequences of your request. Are you willing to let your friend become less talented, while you increase your own study results?’ ’Isn’t that black magic?’ Aram felt a chill on his back. He would probably not have asked for this, to begin with. ’I never accept black workings. I accept grey ones, however. Most human wishes rests in the grey area. The born-again nonconformist who prays to God for promotion at work, the churchman praying for a happy marriage, the white light Neo-pagan sending away a spell for fair weather at the picnic – all their wishes are tainted by a certain amount of selfishness. And so is yours. All of them are mixed with good intentions. And so is yours.’ ’But I can’t rob John of his intelligence. It is not fair.’ ’That depends. A greater working will affect reality on a deeper plane. In a sense, you will have switched – or better, mixed – destinies with each other. I have tried to conjure good destines over both of you, but you will still have to pay the price of tampering with destinies.’ ’Not my soul?’, Aram asked bleakly. ’Then I refuse.’ ’No, not your soul. I do not dabble in diabolism. Actually, I have fought against the minions of darkness on several occasions. But a greater working, affecting the threads of destiny, will take its toll from the one who ordered it, quite soon after the commencement. We are all responsible for our actions. Do you really want a talent for study?’ The question hung in the air for a moment. It cannot have been for a longer time than a second or two, but for Aram it felt like time stood still, like if a gigantic pendulum in an ancient clockwork was swinging over his head. It was still time to thank her for her willingness to help, but refuse to go further. ’Yes. I really want it. Just be sure that John will be happy.’ ’No-one can be one hundred percent sure, but I have reason to believe that he will enjoy the turn of events that will unfold, as well.’ ’Ooo-key? Well, then I suppose there will be no problem? What are the candles for?’ She pointed at one of the candles. It had a card on it, depicting a man in a bishop’s mitre, writing on parchment with a quill. He was surrounded by bookshelves. ’This is St. Isidore of Seville. You will take this home, and burn it nine consecutive Wednesdays until it is all burned away. St. Isidore wrote one of the first encyclopaedias in the world, and was recently designated the patron saint of internet.’ She pointed at the other candle. The card on it depicted a broad shouldered and bearded giant carrying the infant Jesus on his shoulder. ’This is St. Christopher. In the legend he was a giant who converted to Christianity. In reality, we don’t know very much about him, but the moral of the legend is edifying anyhow.’ ’What am I supposed to do with that candle?’ ’Give it to your friend John. If he don’t want to burn it every day or night, let him burn it whenever he likes. Tuesdays would be good, however.’ * * * It was Tuesday again. According to their new habit, John was helping Aram to study. ’And what am I supposed to do with this?’, John asked, curiously holding the glass encased prayer candle. ’You know that I am an Agnostic, don’t you?’ ’Some people burn it because they like how it looks or because they like the scent. It is just one month left until Advent, isn’t it?’ Shall I tell him about it? Aram thought intensely, and felt divided. To tell him the truth. But if he became angry and refused to help anymore at study time together? John was helpful. It would be awful if something terrible happened to him. But Madame Cremorna had said that he would enjoy what was happening, whatever that was. ’But isn’t it a little bit girlish, don’t you think?’ ’Not among my relatives. It is quite common that lads wear saint pendants, for instance.’ ’Yes. Now when you mention it, I have seen some of your martial art friends wearing rosaries, and I can’t accuse them for being girlish.’ The tension disappeared when Aram began to laugh. ’No, you can’t. At least not if you don’t take into account the time they spend in the bathroom, but so do I.’ ’Well, just as a sign of my gratitude for your gesture…’ John lit the candle, and then changed the subject. ’I have been thinking’, John said, ’about exercise.’ Aram was relieved that the subject had changed: ’What about exercise? You may be good at integral calculus and derivate – I have problem understanding what the bloody words mean – but I know a lot about exercise. Ask whatever you wish.’ ’To be honest: I think it is rather – ehrm.’ John’s cheeks and ears became more red than usual. ’I mean, I think it is cool to have muscles, even if it is hard to admit.’ ’It is not something to be shy about, little buddy. Many men like to be beefy. I guess most men would like to be built, even if not everyone like to admit it. Could you imagine Snape lifting weights?’ It was not only Aram’s joke about the acerbic chemistry teacher, but also his facial expression, which helped John to explode with laughter. It also shattered John’s embarrassment. ’Could you teach me how to work out at the gym, if I help you with homework?’ ’Fair enough. I sometimes feel stupid with you. At the gym I will be the teacher.’ Aram proudly flexed his right biceps, and felt cocky when he saw how John’s eyes involuntarily became wider. ’You like what you see?’ John suddenly looked shy again. Aram felt protective. John was so short and thin. ’Want to feel that bicep? Don’t be afraid. I’m not teasing you. It is fun for me to show my results.’ Shyly, John laid his palm over Aram’s biceps, and pressed carefully. ’Harder!’, Aram encouraged. John pressed harder. Aram’s biceps was of the size and density of a croquet-ball, and it rested on a really big triceps. John felt awkward again. His dick was growing and hardening. He sat down on the bed, and hoped that Aram hadn’t noticed. ’Which gym would be good for me?’ ’Why don’t you follow me to the one I workout at?’ ’Aren’t there a lot of big guys there? And doesn’t Peter and his crew hang out there?’ ’Peter is lazy at the gym, and I haven’t seen any of his friends there. Anderson is preoccupied with football, and the others spend their time with driving lessons, booze and grass. They aren’t very healthy, if you ask me. And I will be with you there. If Peter mess with you, I will have a serious conversation with him. He better stay away. The big guys at the gym are alright. Some of them like to give advice. Carl would probably join us at some times.’ * * * John stood before the desk at the gym, and felt shy. A very fit, but not gigantic, trainer manned the desk, dressed in a snug red T-shirt with the gym’s logotype on its chest. ’I’m waiting for a friend.’, John explained apologetically. He peeked into a folder about prices, and found a one-year membership mandatory. In September next year, he would most probably study at university in another city, and the last two months of a one-year membership would be wasted. Aram came in through the door, and began discussing membership and prices with the trainer and John, and, as a result, John got a deal, which meant, that he only had to pay for ten months. They entered the locker room, changed clothes, and Aram begun to introduce John to the machines and weightroom. ’For anyone experienced, free weights are more important than machines. For a beginner, machines may have a purpose, especially for avoiding injuries. Look, for instance, on this one…’ One and a half hour later, John laid on the floor in the locker room. He had Aram’s towel under his head, and rested his legs on a bench, in order to let blood return to his head. He dripped of sweat, and felt nauseous. Aram returned from the loo with a paper towel dipped in cold water, and laid it on John’s forehead. ’I am sorry little buddy. I didn’t know where your limits were. I didn’t mean to exhaust you that much the first time.’ ’It’s not your fault. How could you know?’ * * * John and Aram had developed a habit of visiting Carl’s family on Sunday afternoons and evenings. Carl often spent Fridays and Saturdays with a bunch of SHARPs from the other side of the city, but Sundays were an opportunity for them to meet outside the gym and watch films together in Carl’s room. They all sat on Carl’s bed, with their backs against the wall. They had watched ’Captain America’ and ’Elysium’, and were now halfway into the Dwayne Johnson version of ’Hercules’. ’Look at all that muscle!’, Carl exclaimed impressed, for the second time during the evening. Aram poked him with his elbow: ’Do you know how gay you sound, Carl?’ ’Who you calling gay?’, Carl answered, and threw himself over Aram, playfully and boisterously tickling him. John bounced up in the air before landing back on the bedspread, but Aram and Carl fell to the floor, laughing and wrestling. It ended with Aram sitting on Carl’s back, holding his arm at an uncomfortable angle. * * * ’Grandmother arrives tomorrow. Will you eat dinner with the entire family?’, John’s mother – who worked with care of aged people – asked him the day before Halloween. ’I will stay home on All Saints, but Emelie has invited me to a Halloween party tomorrow night.’, John answered. ’I’m glad that you leave home more often, nowadays. But you know what grandmother will say.’ ’That borrowings of ghosts and pumpkins from the Americans will commercialise and destroy any decorous celebration of All Saints.’ John and his mother looked silently at each other with giddy looks, and both said in unison: ’What would grandfather say, if he had been alive?’ They laughed. John’s grandmother was not a particularly religious person, and, just as most of their relatives, she unreflectedly mixed Agnosticism with Christianity, but she was fond of family traditions, and decorated her home zealously at Advent, Christmas, Easter, May Day and Midsummer, just as she had done as a young mom in the 1960’s, and she enthusiastically invited friends and relatives to annual crayfish-parties and fermented-herring-dinners. The recent introduction of masquerades at Halloween hadn’t found any approval from the old lady, since she thought that such merriment would distract from the solemn commemoration of the departed. She had decorated her own parents’ tomb today, before travelling to her only daughter and her family. Unlike most persons of her grandchildrens’ generation, his grandmother celebrated her nameday, and since her name was Inga-Birgitta, she celebrated both the seventh and the twenty-fifth of October. While Aram, Carl and John lived in council flats in grey five-storied concrete buildings built in the 1970’s (and so did Peter), Simon, Emma and Emelie lived in a residential garden suburb nearby, where hedges and fences kept one-family houses of mixed age (some of them as old as the 1920’s) apart. A very busy road marked the border between the two areas, but narrow asphalt-coated paths, for bicycles and pedestrians, run in graffiti-painted tunnels under the road at two different points, connecting these two areas. John met Aram and Carl close to the nearby tunnel. John was dressed in a black suit he had bought half a year ago, when he attended the Confirmation of a cousin. John had put white theatre grease-paint in his face, and fastened vampire teeth on his eye-teeth. ’Greetings, children of the night!’ Aram and Carl smiled. Carl was dressed in camo trousers, but wore the same boots as usual. He was dressed in a black NATO jersey and some sort of combat harness. ’What is that supposed to mean, besides a soldier in general?’ ’Don’t you see? I’m G.I. Joe!’ ’I didn’t watch that film.’ ’You didn’t? It’s awesome! Let’s watch it on Sunday!’ Aram was green painted in his face, and dressed in a thick woolen overcoat. ’And you? That isn’t obvious… unless…’ Aram opened his coat. He didn’t wear any shirt, despite the cold autumnal weather. His entire torso was painted in bright green, and his trousers were purple. ’That’s hilarious! The Hulk! And it is convincing, too.’ ’You are much better than me with words, but I thank you for the compliments.’ ’Than I am’, John absentmindedly corrected Aram. The night was cold and filled with mist, but they found Emelie’s house without any problems. The house was full of very young adults, and it turned out that Emelie’s parents attended a dinner somewhere else that evening. The night went on rather well. The punchbowl probably contained something persons of their age weren’t officially supposed to drink for another two years, but, since the girls in Emelie’s circle of friends were well-behaved, and since most of the boys didn’t want to spoil the hard earned results of their physical exercise, utterly few of them drank too much. Emelie wasn’t known for having patience with fools, and had planned her guest list carefully, weeding out known drunkards. Parties with her classmates and parallel classes were otherwise known to be rather wet. Emelie had succeeded in her attempt to look like Morticia Adams. Emma was clothed in a furry pink rabbit suit, and only her face was visible. Several of the girls were dressed for an ordinary party, and qualified for a masquerade just by wearing pointy witches’ hats. John wasn’t the only vampire among the young men. A few of the guest looked like characters from animes or computer games. Emma seemed disappointed of Emelie’s choice of music: ’Emelie! Now we have listened to Fields of the Nephilim for half an hour. Don’t you have any tunes by Justin Bieber or One Direction?’ ’Are you kidding? Personally, I think it would spoil the Halloween mood, but if you wish to log into your own Spotify account, you are welcome to do so. You know where the computer is, but don’t expect me to tolerate your unbearable music for very long.’ On his way home, John felt awkward and slightly flattered. One of the lightbulbs had broken, and Emelie suffered from dizziness. She had asked John for help. When he stood at a chair, changing the lightbulb, his shirt had left the inside of his trousers and revealed his belly. Emelie had began to giggle nervously, and called after Emma. John didn’t understand why, and felt insulted. ’Please, John. Show us your abs again.’ ’My abs? What are you talking about? You know that I don’t…’ Giggling, Emelie had pinched the shirt fabric and revealed his abs again. His abs? He didn’t… He DID? ’Cool’, Emma said. ’Exercise suits you.’ * * * An Advent wreath stood on the kitchen table, burning with two lit candles and two unlit ones. It was dark outside the window, and, since the first snow had melted away, there was nothing to lighten the winter night up. John stood at a kitchen desk, taking notes of how much various foodstuffs weighed. That would simplify the composition of gym friendly recipes in the future. His mother entered the kitchen, and began to heat a small amount of mulled wine on the electric stove. ’I received phone calls from your chemistry teacher and your biology teacher today. Your physics teacher called yesterday.’ ’Yes?’ ’They are worried about you. Since you started two and a half year ago, they have regarded you as very talented in natural science, but recently your results have deteriorated. They wanted me to talk to you about it.’ ’Nothing is wrong. I just performed unusually bad in a couple of tests the last weeks.’ The mulled wine had reached a desired temperature. She poured some of the content in a mug. ’Do you want some? It is the soft drink version, so you don’t have to worry. It’s cold outside, so I needed something to drive away the chill in my bones.’ ’No, thanks. I avoid sugar as well.’ ’John, I don’t disapprove that you exercise. It seems to be healthy for you, and I am happy that you have a lot more friends now than you had before. But don’t you think you take it a little too far? Why don’t you play floorball or badminton, or jog or swim, or any other more normal sport? It can’t be good for you, to be so obsessed with what you eat. Are you going to eat like that way during Christmas as well? What will grandmother say?’ ’What would grandfather say, if he had been alive?’ ’This is not something to joke about. I’m afraid that your exercise will affect your school results. And I have read about body dysmorphia and eating disorders in the newspapers. Don’t you understand that I am worried about you? What will happen to your plans to become a physician, a biochemist or a physicist, if you let exercise distract you from studies?’ ’YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING!’, John shouted, left the kitchen, took his training bag and closed the door with a bang. His teenage anger went rampant through his mind and body: Thoughts going in a loop, his emotions boiling, his blood pressure pounding, his body temperature steaming. He loosened the wooly scarf and opened the closed zipper of his large jacket. The staff had left the gym, and the doors were closed, but members were given a key tag that unlocked the door at night. The scent of steel corroding under the influence of sweat. The scent of rubber mats. Furiously, he worked out in the almost empty gym: Only two or three other members exercised this late. It felt much better afterwards. The machines, the barbells, the dumbbells: They had helped him to release his irritation, and he now felt calm, content and harmonious. Freshly showered. Meanwhile he had been indoors at the gym, the temperature had dropped, and it had began to snow. The chill had some bite. On his way home, he unexpectedly met Carl, who was on his way home from something else: It had something to do with music. They talked. About parents and other things. Carl. Reliable Carl: Hard as nails, incredibly funny, and a kind friend to his friends. ’Ah. Come here, mate. It will be better tomorrow.’ They exchanged a hug. A brotherly hug. A rather long brotherly hug. Carl’s polo shirt was warm of his body heat. Carl’s glistening, black synthetic bomber jacket was cold of the winter temperatures. The scents from their different anti-perspirants mixed in the cool night air. A brotherly hug. Carl patted John at the back. ’It will probably be better tomorrow.’ * * * Emma sat in her sofa. Aram sat in the same armchair he had sat so many times before. A lit Advent star hung in the window, and spread a soft glow in the living room. From windows on the other side the street other electric Advent stars shone back. Emma was finishing her explanation: ’It isn’t you, it is me. I am not able to appreciate what you speak about. I miss the old Aram from when we first met: My teddy bear. My kind puppy with hockey butt. I am not interested in nuclear science, new medicines or what’s going on in parts of the world I don’t even know where they are. We have nothing in common anymore, if we ever had. I’m sorry. I like you as a friend, but …’ Her lip began to tremble. Aram hug her sadly, carefully and more softly than usual. ’I’m sorry, but I suppose that I understand…’ * * * Madame Cremorna had closed her shop at 7 p.m. as usual. Since the supermarkets kept open until 9 or 10 p.m. she had lots of time to buy the food and Christmas decorations necessary. She returned to her shop, in order to do some work. Supernatural work. She lived in an old-fashioned flat upstairs, which she had bought several years ago, before the prices had begun to rise ridiculously. Her phone rang. ’Madame Cremorna. … O hello Stephen! How is life in New York? I don’t even know what time it is in your time zone. … It is? … Aha. … A disturbance? … Oh, yes, I am up to a major working, but it is far from world-shattering, you know. Professional secrecy, so I can’t say anything, but I can assure you that it is just about the private life of two persons and their surroundings. It is not like I am about to open a gate for Dormammu or Nergal, if you know my drift. … Not funny? I see. … You are? London? Why? … But what brings you and John to this corner of the world? … No? You are kidding? … Yes, of course. Do you have any dietary restrictions before that working? … No. … No, it is no problem at all: I have a lot of vegetarian Christmas dishes. … Pardon? … No, it doesn’t surprise me that John isn’t picky. If he would like it, I could probably find a christmas pudding and a turkey for him God knows where, but you have to know that the locals prefer ham, meatballs, cabbage and vanilla rice pudding at this time of the year. And herring. Lots of herring. Remind me to put an ash tray in my living room while you stay. … Oh yes. … No, no problem at all. Take care, and give me a call when you think you will stop by.’ She hang up and washed her hands, first in running water and a non-perfumed soap, then in Florida Water. She sprinkled herself with holy water, went before her private shrine and lit both the altar candles and the incense. The air in the room felt thicker now, and the room felt connected to the rest of the world and to the unseen aspects of reality. Her highly trained senses could feel the presence of God, of spirits of many sorts, and of unseen subtle influences stretching themselves out from the room as a cobweb of spiritual light. ’Almighty and everlasting God, who harkened to the prayers of Moses in the wilderness, when he, assisted of Aaron and Hur, prayed for victory against the Amalekites, hear me…’ After a long prayer she stretched her hands out over fragments of candle wax she had removed from a candle, in order to fill it with scented oil. ’O God of my fathers, and Lord of Mercy, who hast made all things with thy word, and ordained man through thy wisdom, that he should have dominion over the creatures which thou hast made, and order the world according to equity and righteousness, and execute judgment with an upright heart: Give me wisdom, that sitteth by thy throne; and reject me not from among thy children…’ Then she did the same to fragments from another candle: ’It is God, that girdeth me with strength of war: and maketh my way perfect. He maketh my feet like harts’ feet: and setteth me up on high. He teacheth mine hands to fight: and mine arms shall break even a bow of steel…’ She had repeated this for weeks now. Divine Spirit was answering. The wheels of the invisible and incomprehensible world machinery turned, and unseen chains of causes and effects slowly turned the former reality into something slightly, slightly different. * * * Chapter two is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7140-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-two/
  19. Chapter one is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7118-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-one/ With a little help from magic Chapter Two Twelfth Night came and went. Spring semester began. Aram hadn’t seen John for a couple of weeks. During Christmas leave, Aram’s family had went to another city, to spend Christmas with relatives. In order to use the holidays for something useful, Aram had brought books from the public library with him, and he had spent Christmas reading a voluminous handbook on anatomy and a monograph on constitutional matters. The books went far beyond what he was expected to read, from his teachers point of view, but Aram wanted to quench his insatiable thirst for more knowledge, and it wouldn’t hurt his grades for sure. It had been a fascinating experience to follow John’s development during autumn and beginning of winter. It was rather common that beginners at the gym got initial results pretty quick, when their bodies adjusted to something entirely new and unfamiliar, but John’s results went far beyond what could be expected of that usual effect. At the Halloween party he had been lean and defined, but during November and December he had began to fill out and approaching a heavier build. One of the trainers had demanded John to hand in a urine sample, since the gym didn’t tolerate steroid abuse among its members, but it came back negative. Concerning exercise, Aram was slightly disappointed with himself. He hadn’t improved his results at all in October and November. In December he couldn’t any longer lift the weights he was used to. He had got a bad cold then, and guessed that it could have something to do with it, but there was also a nagging suspicion back in his head, that his decreased ability could have something to do with Madame Cremorna – that is, if what she did really worked. His scientifically-inclined mind was of two thoughts when it came to the highly eccentric lady in the shop. He missed Emma. They had been an item for years, and life was suddenly missing someone he had begun to take for granted. He missed her warm presence, the scent of her hair and the funny way she giggled. Just as he thought about her, she happened to coincidentally pass by, on the way to her locker. ’Hey, Emma! How was Christmas?’ She looked surprised. Unusually surprised. ’Aram? Nice of you to ask. It was good, but nothing special. And you?’ She looked at him differently than he was used to. The situation felt odd. ’The thing we talked about in the end of the semester. There is no way for you to reconsider?’ ’Talked about? Reconsider? I am not sure that I understand exactly what you are talking about?’ ’About…’ Then it struck him, that he could remember two different strings of events – two different pasts existing simultaneously, side by side. In one of the pasts he and Emma had never been a couple. He felt strange. ’Do you feel okey?’ ’Yes, just a little bit dizzy. Thank you. See you at math class.’ ’Don’t exercise too much. I think it is so sweet of John to teach you how to exercise at the gym, but you have to take it easy in the beginning.’ * * * John had been able to indulge in two workouts a day during Christmas holidays, and the gym had been unusually sparsely visited during these weeks. He had eaten traditional Christmas dishes for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but then returned to his highly well-planned eating plan. He had risen early the first day of the spring semester, and executed a cardio workout at the gym before school day. When he arrived to his locker he heard Peter’s voice on the other side the row of lockers: ’Oi! Swotter! I’m talking to you!’ ’Right. Now his gaze is penetrating lockers as well.’, John thought for himself, and braced himself for the upcoming troubles, but Peter went on, talking on the other side the row. What was going on? John followed the row, and peeked around the corner. Peter, Anderson and two of their friends stood in a semi-circle around Aram, tugging his laptop. ’What the hell are you doing?’, John shouted. Peter and his friends turned around. ’Oh, hello John. Don’t worry. We are just having some fun with Swotter here. Not your business.’ A feeling of unreality lowered itself over the scene. ’Not my business? After all the hell you have given me?’ ’What are you talking about? Only a fool would mess with you, meathead.’ ’Uh. That may be right, but it doesn’t change what you did just a few months ago, does it?’ ’What the hell are you talking about? We were friends in the hockey team once, if you don’t remember? Why would I roughhouse you?’ The feeling of unreality became more intense. John’s facial expression must have been weird, since Peter loosened his grip around Aram’s jacket, and nodded to his friends to leave, quickly following them. As they left the place, John could hear Anderson say: ’Did you see his face? I don’t know what he is on, but I hadn’t dared to stay in the case he got into roid rage, would you?’ * * * When John bought his winter jacket last winter, it had been considerably too large, but since he was still growing, he had expected it to fit better this winter, and anyhow it was useful to wear a jacket that would permit him to wear a warm jersey. December had been rather mild, and the snow that fell several times had melted away. After Twelfth night the weather had changed, a lot of snow had fallen, and it was now minus ten Centigrades. When he was on his way to the gym this morning, he had found that his jacket was too small, despite it had fit perfectly days before, and his jeans were too short. A lot of weird stuff was going on. His unkept hair had changed into a style with shaved sides and the remaining hair kept in thin braids covering the top of the head. Aram hadn’t believed his eyes when he saw John earlier in the day. It was the first time in his life – as he remembered the past – someone had tried to bully him, and he appreciated John’s help. John’s growth during autumn had been fast, but still within the limits of his physical constitution. It was different now. During the holidays John had grown at least a decimetre in height, and his bones must have restructured themselves. His chest and his shoulders were broader, and his hips and waist were narrower. Although Carl didn’t workout together with John and Aram every time, he had promised to accompany them at the gym today. Carl arrived with melting snow flakes on his black bomber jacket, and it took him some time to untie the shoestrings of his shiny black boots. He began to change into sportswear. John looked good in sportswear. The T-shirt was snug, but the drawstring cotton trousers were baggy enough to hide his obviously big legs somewhat. They all trained legs today, ending the workout with heavy weights in the calf rise machine. ’I feel a little bit strange, today.’, said Aram when they had returned to the locker room. ’Uhuh.’, answered John. ’I have felt strange, too.’, and tried to relieve himself from the sweatdrenched T-shirt. With a ripping sound he involuntarily happened to tear it into pieces instead. ’O shit!’, John exclaimed, distracted from the thought of any strangeness. ’It was the second time this week. I must buy larger training clothes.’ Aram stared at John. It was no surprise that John was muscular now, but the shape of John’s naked torso went far beyond what Aram had expected. Carl stared as well on the perfect traps and shoulders of John. On the perfect roundness of John’s pecs. On the valley between the pecs, continuing in a valley between his abs. Although Aram was the only one of them who knew the words for obliques, iliac furrow and serratus, Carl stared on them just as much as Aram, if not more. Carl sat down on a bench, but immediately changed his mind and left for the loo. When they were alone, Aram could manage to have a word with John. ’It must sound crazy, but it feels like reality is changing.’, said Aram. ’That’s exactly how I feel it. So it’s not only me?’, answered John. In low voices, so that Carl wouldn’t hear their discussion from the bathroom, they discussed their experiences. It turned out that they both remembered last semester – and actually their entire lives before that – in the same way: John had been short, shy, scrawny and interested in wildlife. Aram had been extremely fit, confident and brawny. John had been teaching Aram most of their schoolwork subjects during autumn. But both of them could also remember another, more dimly and vaguely recollected, past, in which John had always been built and interested in sports, Aram always had been thin and achieving good grades, and John had began to teach Aram about exercise. It seemed like the rest of the school only remembered the reality the two of them regarded as less real. They didn’t manage to continue this trail of thoughts. Carl returned from the loo, and interrupted. ’My jacket is suddenly too small. I have to buy a new one in a size that allows me to grow.’, John told them. ’Then I know the perfect store for you.’, answered Carl, and looked at his watch. ’If we hurry, we will get there in time before it close.’ They got on the tram. It was full of people on their way home from work, and the floor was wet of melting snow. John was freezing, since his jacket was too small, and he was only wearing a tight t-shirt, which felt too snug. Some people couldn’t avoid staring. John felt of two minds about this. It was a new experience. They left the tram. ’Is it far from here? I’m freezing.’ ’Who wouldn’t freeze in this weather? Although you have the look of a hard fucker who could endure anything. You know that?’ John felt flattered and embarrassed, but it didn’t change the outdoors temperature. They took left into a cobblestone-paved alley, and soon found the shop John had mentioned. It was still open. Posters for bands, mainly punk rock bands, covered the black painted walls. A clock on the wall looked like the symbol for the British Royal Air Force. From the ceiling hung the symbol of London Underground. When John viewed the room, several styles of clothes hung from rackets or were displayed on shelves, ranging from stylish overcoats and expensive lamb’s wool jerseys to the sort of provocative clothes Emelie used to wear. ’Just tell me if you need any help’, said the shop owner, who sat behind the counter with earphones plugged into his ears. ’It’s fine. I know where to look.’, answered Carl. And so he did. ’You said you need something wide, with room to let you grow. Why haven’t you considered an Alpha bomber jacket like mine?’ ’Oh. Eh. I don’t listen to your music.’ ’Lots of people use bombers nowadays, even the bloody hipsters. You have always dressed like you are shy of yourself, and I haven’t understood why. Which colour do you like?’ ’Uh. Blue.’ Carl handed him a bomber jacket in a metallic blue colour. John tried it on. It felt comfortable, and although it had lot of room for results from the gym, it didn’t look too large. John watched his own reflection in the mirror. The jacket suited him. ’It was perhaps not a bad idea after all. Do they have wide trousers as well?’ ’Most jeans are too skinny for your legs. I would suggest army style cargo trousers.’ ’Don’t you think that would look silly? Or angry? Or nazi?’ ’Last time I checked, a lot of my anti-racist friends wore cargo trousers. It’s not like the 90’s any more. Here, try this pair with city camo. But, of course, you need a pair of boots to match.’ Carl began to evaluate the shelves with boots. John found a pair of boots he liked. He observed himself in the mirror. Although covering his body, his new style accentuated his new physique, and he looked intimidating, in a way he never had before. It felt unreal and like he was doing something forbidden, but it also felt good. John payed for his new winter clothes, and they left the shop. It had began to snow again. His new jacket kept him warm. * * * Emelie sat in the school cafeteria steaming of anger. Her glass of water lay before her, its content running over the table. She tried to stop it with napkins. ’Emelie? What’s happening?’ It was Aram. Absentmindedly he used his two used napkins to stop the water from staining Emelies dress or the floor. ’Oh, sorry for the mess. I just talked to Emma.’ ’Emma? What has happened to her. She’s nice.’ Aram uncomfortably remembered Emma from another reality. Her scent. Her laugh. Sex with her. Her sense of humour. ’Emma has got a new boyfriend, and we quarrelled.’ Aram felt a short sting of jealousy, and quickly realised that he had no reason to – in this reality. ’A new boyfriend? Who?’ Emelie had the expression of an elderly aunt in an acerbic mood when she answered: ’Anderson.’ * * * It was his eating day, he tried to convince himself, when he was on his way home from an evening out with Carl and his friends. It had become a lot of comparatively cheap and unhealthy pub food and several pints of beer. The SHARPS were a friendly bunch, but had tested him initially with a rude sense of humour. John soon fell into the jargon. It was very unpretentious. The winter night was cold. Snow covered the grassy slopes, and frost glimmered from the stairs of stone up to the council-flat neighbourhood. ’It was good, Carl. I want to do it again.’ ’Workouts are good, and I admire your discipline with food – I could never manage to follow rules like that – but you got to have fun now and then, aren’t you?’ John followed Carl home. Carl’s parents had went to bed. Trying to be silent, but laughing loudly, the lads their boots and jackets in the passage, and then went to Carl’s room. ’And as I said before, there’s no hurry to become a skinhead even if you were interested. I hate poseurs just as much as the other lads.’ ’Poseurs?’ ’Yes. Idiots full of themselves, who one day decides to come in from nowhere and adopt the skinhead surface with no content. They usually care nothing about the music, and a few months later they go after another fad. They come in several flavours: There’s the racist idiots, who know nothing about skins before ’82 or about SHARP, and there’s the hipsters, and there’s the gays.’ ’The gays?’ John blushed somewhat, and tried to not blush. ’Believe it or not. Some gays think that we are hot, so they try to look like us.’ John expressed some noncommittal noises. ’Which is rather flattering in a sense, but I don’t want a fifty year old daddy panting me in my neck, if you know what I say. Understand me correct: I am all for LGB rights – I’m a leftie for God’s sake – and I am not against some skins happening to be gay. What people do in their beds is their own business. I just want people to enter the scene out of the right motives. If you hate ska or oi!, can’t take a punch, and lack a sense of style, you don’t belong. Any upper class twat can shave his head, but he will not get what skinhead is about. Nor will the idiots who only want a pretext to pick a fight. They are just poseurs, all of them. And the boneheads have no flair for style: Have you ever seen a bonehead wearing a crombie coat? And they prefer threadbare WP t-shirts before a perfect Ben Sherman.’ * * * ’You will never believe what happened during lunchtime today.’, John told Carl while they helped the melocore club moving the large loud-speakers. ’No? What happened?’, Carl asked. ’Peter asked me if he could join me training at the gym.’ ’You are kidding me. Peter is a racist wanker. I suppose you told him to go to hell.’ ’No. At first, I couldn’t believe it was happening, but he seemed to be honest about it, and it sounded like he didn’t want to hang around Anderson anymore.’ ’What if it is just a trick?’ ’I don’t know. Perhaps this could let us put some pressure on him to stop behaving like an idiot.’ ’It’s easy for you to say, John. You have never been bullied. I have seen what Peter is capable of, and it’s not pretty. For Aram’s sake, you should say no.’ The discussion was interrupted, when Simon entered the room. He gave some directions. The room was soon ready for a concert. ’I hope you stand by our agreement?’, Carl said to Simon. ’We help you with this, and your club will pay for an oi! and ska themed Saturday in two months.’ ’Yes. Yes, of course. That’s the deal. Why do you repeat yourself all the time?’, answered Simon. * * * Aram’s mother didn’t approve of his new look. He was slowly untying the green shoelaces of his boots, when she asked: ’John, you have always been a nice boy. Why, of a sudden, do you look like a nazi?’ ’Sorry Mrs A., but I don’t look like nazi.’ ’That jacket and those boots. I have heard about nazis who look like that.’ ’He’s right, mom’, Aram interrupted. ’There’s a lot of anti-racists who sport that look, nowadays.’ Mrs A. looked slightly confused. ’Back when I was in your age, only nazis looked like that.’ ’The nazis were probably the visible ones, back then. But the roots of skinhead culture goes further back, before the split between racists and anti-racists within the culture. It was originally about Jamaican music. Oi! music was added in the 70’s. The split between racist skins and anti-racist skins took place in 1982. The racist skins are seldom seen anymore, at least in this country. The far right guys went on to wear ties and suits or became rockers or were assimilated by the casuals. Actually, I don’t understand why the far right guys tried to nick a culture about Jamaican music to begin with. And by the way, I’m not a skinhead yet, anyhow. I’ve got hair.’ 'If you call that hair.' Aram’s mother still didn’t look like she knew what to believe, but began putting dishes on the table. ’I’m glad that you help Aram with exercise. He only read books before.’ ’Mom!’, Aram protested indignantly. John recognized the situation too well: What is it with parents who behave like you still are fourteen or something? John continued to chat politely with Aram’s mother, while they ate a salad of parsley and fried breadcrumbs, chicken, chickpea sauce, and olives. After the meal Aram and John went into Aram’s room. It looked different from what John could remember. The posters of hockey players had disappeared. A novena candle similar to John’s own stood in the window. Aram had two bookshelves from IKEA, filled with books about natural science, mostly about biology and medicine. John watched the books confused. He could remember how he once had been able to understand the content of books like these, but he also became acutely aware of that he wasn’t able to digest their content anymore. The world felt weird, like it changed around him. ’Aram, I need to talk to you.’, John said. ’Same here. Carl is always present when we meet at the gym, so I haven’t got any opportunity. Not since our homework Tuesdays ended.’ ’Homework Tuesdays? You do remember them? No one else seem to remember, and no one else seem to remember that you once were almost as big as I am now.’ ’So you remember, too? It sounded like you did at the gym a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure.’ ’You will probably not believe me, but it feels like I have lived in two different realities, and now only the better reality is left. It feel so good that the other reality has disappeared.’ ’You seem to like it?’ ’Do you remember the same other reality as I do?’ ’I believe so, but I am not sure. Why do you ask?’ ’There was not much to like in the other reality, so of course I prefer this one. You don’t have to be a genius to understand that.’ ’Oh.’ ’Oh, what?’ Aram’s eyes and eyebrows expressed several feelings, exactly what wasn’t easy to interpret. ’Oh… The thing I liked with the other reality, was my success at the gym and in martial arts.’ ’Yes. I admit that that detail must have been good for you. For you. For me that other reality was hell. Whatever is happening, it is for the better.’ ’I’m glad to hear that. Eh. Uh…’ ’What are you trying to say?’ ’John. I love science. I want to dedicate my life to science, but there seem to be some things that are beyond scientific explanations.’ ’Perhaps there are. I haven’t thought much about it, but generally people would call me a sceptic.’ ’But you can’t explain away what’s happening to us. You know that it is real?’ ’It could have been me becoming mentally ill, but not if the same thing happens to both of us independently.’ ’Precisely. I can’t expect you to believe me, but I think… Eh. Uh. Ehrm…’ Aram rose from the chair before his computer, and reached the window. ’This novena candle. And yours. I bought them from a crazy lady… No, she wasn’t crazy. She was very sane, but very odd. She claimed that you and I could have our highest wishes come true through these, but at a cost.’ ’A cost?’ ’It seems like I became a perfect science student, but losing my muscles, while you became a poorer science student, when you achieved all that muscle.’ John felt suddenly aroused. He had packed on a lot of beef. It felt good, so much better than being like he was before. But losing his skills in biology was the price to pay? To hell with biology. The feel of these… He put his right hand on his left pec and squeezed. It felt good. He rose from the bed, standing before Aram with his full height. ’Are you angry at me?’ John hug him. Aram could feel the presence of John’s muscular physique pressed against him. Aram could also feel that John’s dick was stiff, which made him uncomfortable. ’Angry? Why should I be angry with you? You have given me a gift. You could have asked first, but then I could have refused it as a bad joke, so probably you couldn’t have asked before. I love how reality has turned out to be.’ Aram looked relieved. ’Oh, another thing. Peter want to join us at the gym, but I wanted to ask you first.’ * * * Chapter three is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7668-with-a-little-help-from-magic-chapter-three/
  20. godofjurai

    Symbiotic Bonding - Part 01

    To all the fans of the Transcript... I will still finish it... But I know how much you guys have loved it so I am going to turn it into a series... And to all the new readers, I hope you enjoy this tale. Not sure how long I will take between releasing parts. But this story will be completed. I hope you enjoy this fresh take on an amazing RP I did as it will now be presented to you all as a complete series. Part I The Bonding Matt stumbled through the house, heading up his room that he had always shared with his twin brother Andrew. He has always been a huge bearish guy. 6’5”, 300 lbs of ripped college bound jock muscle with a very large 10 inch cock. He really got into lifting in High school when he grew like a weed, playing both football and joining the wrestling team. Once he got into college though was when things really started to change. He was able to join a great gym, non stop trips into the cafeteria line. Even some really great supplements that his coach and teammates gave him. From one day he was buying stuff at a local vitamin shop to now he was buying more exotic drugs just hoping to build himself even more freakier. That’s what lead Matt to this moment. His friend brought him a new drug, supplement, something extremely crazy that if supposedly it was taken it would completely change a person’s life forever. “There’s two vials here bro. There’s Vial A and Vial B. It’s super experimental shit, I don’t even understand how it fucking works,” Daniel told Matt in the locker room earlier that day. “How the hell did you get a hold of it then?” Matt was curious if it is so secret, why the hell did he not keep it for himself. “Well, my friend’s half-brother’s uncle managed to smuggle it out of a department of defense lab. Shit is fucking legit. You got to believe me.” So he took it and brought it back home with the last words his friend telling him ringing into his ears. The actual instructions. Go to the Gym. Uncork Vial A and drink it. Find some random big dude, make him drink Vial B. The instructions were strange but the idea of actually getting something from the Department of Defense was a huge turn on. Matt was already enormous, if this shit would work he’d be gigantic. Matt looked at the time, “Fuck 11:30… To late now.” He sighed to himself. Most of the really big guys were probably already gone from the gym. And the guy he’d really want to try Vial B, the only guy that rivaled him in size, always arrives at 10AM sharp. Matt sets the vials aside on his desk, stripping down for bed, and lying on top of the cool sheets, feeling the breeze of the AC wash over his hefty muscular body. Andrew, Matt’s twin, was already laying in his bed. Andrew however was completely the opposite of his twin. They definitely were not identical. As Matt was a large built bearish beast, Andrew was practically hairless. Both twins were 21 years of age, but Matt stopped growing roughly at the age of 14. He stood at 5’5” 140lbs with a just below average 4 inch cock. Since Andrew wasn’t as huge as his brother, he became more of the smart one of the two, cracking the books and getting high academic marks in High School and now college. Andrew watched his brother strip and lay across his bed. The musky odor of Matt wafting in his direction. “Geeze Matt. Why didn’t you shower at the gym?” He watched as Matt though put the two vials onto his desk. One had a moving black liquid object inside of it. The other a greyish looking mass. The Grey one appeared to almost look dead looking as well as much smaller in volume then the black mass that completely filled the first vial. “Are those new supplements? They seem to look a bit odd from your normal stuff. Like not safe.” “Yeah. New supplements. Don’t touch them Andrew, they are really experimental and I don’t know how strong this stuff is going to be.” Matt watched over them for a few seconds. They were originally stored in a cooler which he removed them out of before coming up stairs. He didn’t realize though that since he had removed them, whatever was actually inside of them were starting to awaken, move, and become more active. Andrew continued to watch Matt as he pushed his large legs into his bed. Matt began his usual nightly routine of self-worship. Every night before bed he’d feel himself up after his massive pump from the gym. Matt began rubbing his hands over his hairy 10 pack. Twisting at one of his nipples with his other hand as his cock began to get hard and stand up straight like a pole. Andrew didn’t really mind. One thing that they both did inherit strangely in the traits department was that they were both gay. When they were both younger, before Matt became the giant man that he was today, they both experimented with each other and learned what sexual stuff they could. But once Matt began to really grow, the sexual interest died down, but they were still very close brothers. Matt was more interested in guys his size, which Andrew completely understood. Matt took his time though with his self-worship. Slowly moving one of his calloused hands from years of working out in the gym down to his engorged cock. The bigger Matt got, the more he turned himself on. Andrew knew this as well as his jackoff sessions seemed to be getting longer and more intense every night. Matt never minded Andrew watching him either; having his brother watching him and knowing Andrew’s hard little dick under the sheets turned him on even more. “Ah Fuck!” Matt kicked his legs out. Shaking the bed as it began to pivot and shake other things around it. Not really caring, he just loved the feeling of his hand around his large cock as he stroked and felt himself up. The bed knocking into the desk. The vials starting to roll around precariously. The grey vial, marked with the letter B rolls and goes over the side of the desk. Falling, the tip hits the edge, cracking the vial. Matt is the first to notice. He hops off the bed and the grey liquid looking mass begins to crawl across the bed. Small arms sprout out of it as it slowly starts to move on its own. “Dude, what is that, Matt?!” Andrew freaks out at the sight of it as he watches from his own bed. Matt just stares at it, his hard 10 inch cock bobbing up and down, not sure on what to do. Looking down at the broken vial he notices the B label on it. “Oh Fuck!” Matt growls reaching out with his hands to try and pick up the grey mass. “I need to get it into something fast!” As he scoops it up it seems to calm down a bit and just sit obediently in his palm. “What the fuck is this?” Matt brings it closer to his face to inspect it. As he does the greyish blob begins to reach and slithers between his fingers and drops onto his thick pec shelf. It begins to roll down the massive pillowy masses as it freefall dives off of his overhang and latches onto his still hard, throbbing shaft. With a freaky speed, the mass begins to move, crawling up Matt’s shaft using its tendril like arms again till it reaches his bulbous mushroom tip. It then plunges right into his piss slit, slithering and crawling into him as it plunges all the way inside. “WHAT THE FUCK!?” Matt roars grabbing his cock, trying to squeeze the liquid gray thing out of it. “FUCK I GOT TO GET IT OUT OF ME!” Matt runs towards the bathroom more scared then anything. As Matt leaves the room, and even before while the gray mass was making its move, the other vial was also reacting. The black mass in the vial marked A began to wobble as the object inside of it began to become agitated. It rolls off the desk and hits the floor, the vial shattering into dozens of pieces a the black thing inside of it becomes larger and starts moving across the floor with much more jerky, striding movements. It appears to be looking for something, as it moves towards the space where the gray mass’s bottle broke. It uses its own tendrils to feel around, exploring the area, finding the cracked bottle empty. It begins to shake, almost as if it’s angry as it scans the room and notices Andrew on his bed. It begins to move. “MATT?!” Andrew got up from his bed as he notices the black thing heading right for him. Matt rushes back into the room but as the thing moves, it begins to grow larger and larger with every passing second. “Holy fuck that one got out too?!” The black mass stops, noticing Matt and changes its direction, charging right at him. It seems to want you even more. The thing now the size of a rat, latches onto Matt’s leg and begins to pull itself up his calf and thigh. It notices the remnants of the gray mass. As it reaches Matt’s cock, a large tendril comes out of the top of it, stretching out and appears to look into his piss slit. “What the fuck is it doing?!” Andrew watches as the thing begins to observe the inside of Matt’s cock. Matt just stares down in horror, “I… I don’t fuckin’ know!” He reaches down and tries to push it off, but it’s to strong and holds on to continue its observation. It moves its head like tentacle upwards towards Matt’s eyes as it begins to shake and squeeze harder, almost as if it has gotten even more pissed off. Matt freaks out and begins to tug and pull it off of him, until it finally releases and is sent flying into the air, landing right onto Andrew’s lap. The black mass hesitates for a second before skittering around the bed sheets, crawling under them. Within seconds it latches onto Andrew’s cock. Squeezing it tightly, getting it hard, it slides into his piss slit. Andrew grunts and moans, the feeling burning, yet pleasant at the same time as it slides into him, filling his dick to full hardness, and spreading its tendrils into his balls and reproductive system. His balls being filled pleasantly as a raw feeling of power and energy awakens inside of him. His cock harder then it has ever been in his life. Matt rushes over to his brother, worried. “Are you okay, Andrew? Where did it go?!” He pulls the sheet off the bed completely, holding it up, trying to see where the black mass might be hiding. He doesn’t even notice how hard his brother’s cock is as he sits there completely erect. “Fuck, it’s got to be around here somewhere…” Andrew reaches his hand over, placing it on top of one of Matt’s large paw like hands that rests on the mattress. Matt reacts for a second, looking down at his smaller twin. “Matt…why don’t you like doing the stuff we did as kids anymore? Look how hard you make me bro?” Andrew slowly moves Matt’s hand to his 4 inch cock. “Can’t we have a little fun bro? Like old times?” Matt stares back at his brother, flabbergasted at his remark. Why would Andrew ask him to jerk him off at a time like this? Some strange little alien like thing is in their room somewhere and all he can worry about right now is getting a hand job! That is until his hand literally wraps its fingers around his brothers cock all on its own. Matt’s own cock begins to throb as well, almost as if its excited they are doing this after so many years. Matt’s rough, calloused fingers begins to stroke up and down Andrew’s smaller shaft. It almost hurts from the roughness, but it also causes a strange pleasurable sensation. Matt pulls back a second, shaking his head clear. ‘Why did I? What am I doing?’ Matt wondered what’s gotten into him, they haven’t done anything like this in years, yet all Andrew had to do was ask and his own dick got so hard he couldn’t say no. Matt slowly steps away from the bed, his huge body taking up the center of the room. “Something weird is going on, Andrew.” He stares down at Andrew’s hard cock. His mouth begins salivating slightly at the sight of how ridiculously hard and rigid it is. Andrew grabs hold of his cock, giving it a few strokes. He lets out a tiny moan, he wants to cum so bad, but for some reason his body is telling him no. It’s literally holding the pressure deep down like an overflowing dam. Andrew scoots to the edge of the bed, his feet hanging over the edge of the bed. Matt steps forward, towards his brother again, gazing down at his cock. “Bro… We had so much fun. Don’t you want me?” Andrew sounded like it was a pleading moment, but his voice was firm. “It feels like you gave up on me years ago… I never gave up on you, bro. I wanted you to want me still…” “I-Bro… Andrew,” Matt sighed, looking down at his brother, his mind jumbled and mixed up with different emotions. “We just kind of drifted apart, you know? I got into the gym, made new buds. All that stuff. And you, well, you went a different way. I still love you, bro. But more the normal kind of love between brothers, not the kind of love of the stuff we did as kids when we messed around and experimented.” Matt looks down again at the hard cock of his twin, and it doesn’t look like it is going to go down anytime soon without a little help. Matt’s own cock shuddering in response. Whatever words are coming out of his mouth, his cock disapproves as the 10 inches of hardness says otherwise. “Come on Matt,” Andrew reaches out and touches the lower two abs of his brothers perfect 10 pack. “Just once more… you’re so hard too…” Matt’s head is such a cloudy confusion of emotion, he drops to a knee in front of Andrew, not realizing his brother was still very attractive and if Andrew did take up the gym like he did, he could have been a stud himself. Maybe he could help his brother in the gym, help him get a little size with some workouts they could do together. Matt’s hand reaches out, touching Andrew’s large swollen balls. His other hand reaches out to the incredibly hard shaft. “Fuck bro, tonight is so fucking weird,” Matt sounded a bit tired as he held his brothers cock in his hand. Matt pushes Andrew’s legs apart a bit, giving him a bit more access to his cock and balls. He begins to rub Andrew’s nuts slowly, gently, massaging them delicately as if they were precious fruits that could not be bruised. His thumb beginning to work its way up and down Andrew’s short shaft, pressing against it. “You should start coming to the gym with me, Andrew. You could use a bit more mass. You’d like it, I think.” He starts pumping Andrew’s dick with his large hand, using the other to fondle his twin’s balls and rub the sensitive flesh of his inner thighs. “Mmmm…” Matt moans, not even realizing it. Andrew reaches down to his brothers chin, lifting it up so their eyes can meet, The world going almost dark around them as the two can only focus on each other and the needs they now both have. “Want me…” Matt begins to move closer with those words. “Want me Matt… I want you… now want me…” “W… Want… y-you…” Matt stammers, seeing nothing but his brother’s face in front of him, feeling the hard dick in his hand as he continues to pump it. Matt blinks a few times from this cloudy haze, his hand slows its pump for a second, but then he notices Andrew’s face again, that new glimmer of emeralds in his brother’s green eyes. Matt starts to pump more vigorously, staring into his brother’s eyes. “I want you too, Andrew. His deep voice softer than usual. Andrew places his hand on the back of Matt’s head. Matt scoots closer across the floor, his eyes not leaving Andrew’s as Matt’s beard rubs against Andrew’s hard, tender cock. Andrew moans in pleasure as his brother licks his cock head. “I’ve wanted you for so long Matt…” His brother’s lips part as the head disappears into his warm mouth. Andrew uses one of his hands and massages his brother’s scalp, running his hands through Matt’s hair. His other hand on Matt’s mountainous traps, Matt goes down on Andrew’s cock, easily sucking all of its short length into his mouth, his nose pressed against the thin bush of his brother’s pubes. He begins to bob up and down on it, sucking eagerly, feeling Andrew’s little hands roam over his massive shoulders and traps. It turns Matt on even more as his brother fills him up that he starts using his tongue to pleasure his twin even more, pressing it firmly against the underside of the cock, letting his tongue slip out past his lips to press against Andrew’s balls. He can’t get over how rock hard Andrew’s dick is in his mouth, how incredibly unyielding it is as he sucks it down. Matt’s hands move up and grip Andrew’s thin little legs, holding him in place as he goes completely cock hungry for his brother. Andrew lets out one final moan. His small cock very sensitive and always has been from the lack of sex in in his life, unlike Matt who could jack off for an hour and still not release. Andrew pushes his hips off the bed, clenching his ass as a quick shot of cum travels out of his shaft and fires into the back of his brother’s throat. It was a single shot, but it was a mighty blast of cum that Matt couldn’t even spit out if he wanted to. Matt slowly pulls off, feeling a bit weak and woozy. His own cock begins to dribble out a tiny bit of cum that pools onto the floor as it began to go flaccid. Andrew hops off the bed. His foot stepping into the small cum puddle that Matt made as it is absorbed of the floor, directly into his skin. Matt scoots back, standing up. He takes two steps back before falling backwards onto his bed, completely exhausted from this strange experience, his flaccid cock tingling almost as if it were happy. Matt lies back, locking his arms behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. ‘I just sucked off my brother. I haven’t done that in years.’ He begins to realize in the past, it was he who asked Andrew to sexually experiment with each other. Andrew has never asked for such a thing; this is completely new, completely different. But it felt so right. Andrew however was having a completely different experience. He was energized. He was alive. His orgasm lifted him up into new levels of pleasure and well-being. Neither of them noticed the cum puddle, and maybe if they did this might have ended up a completely different experience… To Be Continued… Coming Soon: Part II – First Meal
  21. godofjurai

    Symbiotic Bonding Part 06

    This part I am sure is one of the bigger parts of the Original RP people wanted... I hope I did this justice... There is a very ORIGINAL way I did the theft in this part, which was what I think people enjoyed the most. Also there's a bit of an easter egg to a few other theft stories. Enough chatter, I hope you enjoy this part. Previous Parts: -Part 01 - Part 02 - Part 03 - Part 04 - Part 05 - Part 06 Risk Takers Matt wraps his large arms around Andrew in a tight embrace. “You won’t lose me, bro. I’ll always be your big lunk of a gym rat brother.” He notices the warmth of Andrew’s body up against him; his size much bigger and solid than what he’s been used to before. Even though Andrew is still quite a bit smaller than him, Matt can feel the difference of his smaller twin’s body size. It felt so good actually he began go become a bit more attracted to Andrew’s new size. “You know…” Matt pauses a second, swallowing the lump in his throat. “If we used rubbers, the cum wouldn’t touch…” Matt takes a deep breath, proud of the thought but also nervous on Andrew’s overall reaction. “We know that it’s the cum itself that is making these changes – the cups proved that. So all we have to do is use some condoms, and we can fuck all we want without having to worry.” Matt chuckles nervously, squeezing Andrew a bit more firmly, pulling him in tighter into his body. Andrew looks up at Matt, a bit of a happier tone spread across his face at this new revelation that his twin has proposed to him. “That actually sounds like a great idea!” Before Andrew could even finish his sentence, Matt had his brother scooped up and in his arms. The effort he put into it was a bit of a struggle at their new sizes, but Matt made sure to get in a comfortable position for himself to carry Andrew; up the stairs to their room, where Matt gently places Andrew onto his bed. Matt runs his hands over Andrew’s body, taking note of the new muscle that has formed under his brother’s skin. “Gotta admit, Andrew, watching you grow like that was pretty fucking hot.” Matt smirked down at Andrew, groping his hardening bulge in his shorts, before pulling them down his thighs as they dropped to the floor which he kicks off of his feet and pushes them aside. Matt crawls on the bed between Andrew, his eight rock hard inches at full attention. Reaching out, gently gripping Andrew’s thighs, rubbing them up and down before slowly pushing them apart. Matt reaches over Andrew to his nightstand, pulling the drawer open and grabbing one of the many condoms inside. Smirking down at Andrew seductively, he puts the condom package to his lips, ripping it open with his teeth as he pops the latex sheath out of its wrapper and slides it over his hard dick. He takes note that it’s not quite as tight as he remembered it used to fit him. Matt shook off the unwanted feeling of his smaller self as he grabbed a tube of lube from the drawer, applying a generous amount to slick up his rubber-clad cock. Matt begins to tease Andrew’s hole, prodding it with his finger, applying a bit of lube to make sure he was ready to take him fully. “I’m gonna give you a good fucking, bro. Show you I’ve still got it, even if I’m a bit smaller than before. Andrew moans loud in pleasure as Matt’s finger probes his hole, opening him up for the incoming invasion. “Please be gentle… I haven’t done it before, bro.” Andrew’s hole was tight, and spasming; his ass clamping down tightly on Matt’s lubed finger. “I’ve wanted this for a long time though, bro. I’ve wanted you to Want Me, like this…” Matt feels a bit uneasy at those words, a chill running down his spine. He leans down slowly, kissing Andrew, removing his finger from his tight hole. His lubed up cock, covered by the rubber, is achingly hard. Matt leans forward into Andrew, making sure to press the head of his mushroom tip against his brother’s hole. The tightness of Andrew and the feeling of being opened up by Matt causes them both to moan in unison. With a soft moan, Matt slowly pushes his cockhead into Andrew’s very tight hole. He watches Andrew wince a bit in pain and grunts; Matt leans in to comfort him, pushing his lips onto his twin’s in a deep kiss. His mouth engulfing Andrew’s, tongue forcing its way between his lips and teeth. Matt growls into the kiss, pushing his cock in half way before feeling Andrew tense up more under him, his bro’s hole clamping down on the four inches inside him. Matt pauses for a moment, giving Andrew a chance to adjust to his size; even at eight inches, he’s still quite the hung stud. As he keeps his dick half inside he moves his mouth down Andrew’s face, to his jaw, then his neck, nuzzling against his brother’s ear before teasing it with his tongue. Andrew moans as his body is relieved of some tension, his hole relaxing a bit more, as he gives permission for Matt to proceed further. His hole opening up, Matt pushes in further, loving the groans and moans that escape Andrew’s lips. “Oh yeah,” Matt moans, feeling his thin pubes press against Andrew’s round muscle ass cheeks as he finally reaches the end, his cock fully pressed into his bro. “Fuck you got a nice ass, Andrew.” His breathing more labored as their bodies are pressed firmly together. Matt lifts Andrew up off the bed, letting his slightly smaller twin wrap his legs around his waist; Matt’s cock moving and shifting inside of him as they changed sexual positions. Matt moves over to his desk, sitting down on it. He places his hands on Andrew’s ass as he begins to lift his brother up and down on his cock in a steady rhythm. Andrew moans more and more with each thrust up and down Matt’s shaft in pure pleasure. Every time he is dropped to the base of Matt’s cock he gasps as he feels the large phallus leaving him as he is lifted back up the shaft towards the large head, just to start his long moan as he is lowered again. Andrew’s cock is rock hard and slapping firmly against Matt’s abs as Matt holds him close to his chest. Something then snaps in his own mind right then, the consequences if Andrew was to cum now without something blocking his spunk would be very bad. “Matt… Fuck… nnn… This….Is…A… Bad… Position…” Andrew manages to get out as Matt pounds into him, steadily speeding up his rhythm as he begins to go faster… and faster… “Mmm, Fuck no, Bro! This position is fucking amazing!” Matt growl’s holding Andrew steady as he slams his dick up inside of Andrew, roughly fucking his twin, loving the way Andrew’s lust is evident from his panting and grimacing facial expressions; the way Andrew’s cock hits his abs over and over as he fucks him hard, yet passionately. Matt’s own ass begins to rise up off the chair slightly as he tries to drive his cock in even deeper if it could even be possible; spreading his strong muscular legs wider, leaning back against the desk, driving his dick up into Andrew as he holds his bro in position. His balls begin to ache, he wants to fill Andrew up so much with his love, but they seem to tremble and swell as they begin to cause him pain. Matt snarl’s angrily, desperately wanting to cum as he begins to fuck Andrew even harder, roughly thrusting up into his twin, muscles tensing and flexing with extra effort as beads of sweat begin to form on his skin. Andrew continues to be tossed around, enjoying the pounding as he notices Matt’s face begin to turn red, as he finally cries out in agony, desperate for relief. “Ah, Fuck… Please Matt…” he moans into the rhythm. With a loud cry of pain and pleasure, but pure ecstasy, Matt explodes. “AH FUCK!!!!” Pushing deep inside, Matt feels his dick spasm wildly, the big rod rocking about wildly as his seed continues to erupt from his shaft, filling the condom. The reservoir tip beginning to fill… more… and more… There is so much cum rocketing forth, Matt feels like his cock won’t stop, but he realizes it’s not his choice, it’s something more. Matt’s Symbiote controlled balls are working in overdrive, filling the tip of the condom, making it swell larger and larger inside of Andrew as it continues to fill with Matt’s splooge. “Oh fuck, Matt…” Andrew’s eyes go wide as the rubber reservoir tip expands so much it ruptures inside of him, flooding the enhanced cock cream throughout Andrew completely. As soon as it breaks and flows into him, it’s immediately absorbed, but this time Andrew isn’t warmth spreading over his body; heat begins to fill him, a fire. Every muscle in Andrew’s body begins to tense up all at once, flexing hard against an unseen resistance. “FUCK! THIS…IS… HUGE!” Andrew’s height shoots upwards, almost instantly he is four inches taller, his shoulders broadening wider to provide new space for the muscle that is pumping out from under his skin. Every fiber of his being tensing as he gets bigger everywhere, the veins making a road map to every part of him as they pump with blood and begin to be seen without even a flex. Fifty pounds of solid mass was just added to him in mere minutes, and the show was just starting. Andrew’s own cock, six and a half inches of rock hard meat expands upwards and outwards, throbbing madly as it added one more inch of length and bloated thicker to accommodate his new size. As Andrew’s growth begins to subside, his body bordering on close to Matt’s size now, their bodies even closer than ever, his cock begins rubbing against the ridges of Matt’s abs. As it grew longer and thicker, his body becoming closer to perfection like his larger twin, he begins to gaze at himself in awe from these new changes, the pressure in his own balls begins to come to a head and spill out. As Andrew tries to move up off of Matt’s cock, his body has it’s own desires as his now perfect muscular bubble butt ass latches down on Matt’s cock, “FUCK!!!!” Andrew’s cock explodes! The load firing up into the air as it lands across Matt’s face, chin, and chest. There is nothing else he can do now, but to wait. Andrew wraps his larger arms around Matt, as his cock fires again, his brain going into protective mode, as all he wants to do is hold onto Matt, not realizing his cock is still firing off between their bodies as Matt begins to shrink a bit more. “No…. no no no no no!” Andrew holds Matt tightly as he sits on his cock still balls deep. Their eyes meeting for the first time since they were kids. Matt looks straight across, eye level to Andrew. But it seems a bit off, his eyes may be even a bit lower, but that’s not really surprising since Andrew is still impaled on his dick. Before he came, Andrew had to tilt his head down to look at him, this new status change had him slightly tilting his head up. “Damn Andrew,” he croaked, words a bit slurred. Matt reached up and tries to pull Andrew off of his tool, but Andrew is now too big, too heavy. 200lbs of pure beef sitting on his lap. Matt’s ass touches down on the chair, his trembling legs no longer able to hold up his brother’s weight as easily as he was able to before. “Fuck… you look good…” Matt finally takes in the full size and weight of his twin. His larger muscles, his masculine rock hard hairy chest, his powerful shoulders, and his vasularly huge arms. Andrew lifts his ass up off of Matt’s cock, pulling the obliterated latex condom out of his hole. “Look at me, Matt.” He walks over to Matt’s large mirror that he had installed to check his own perfected body out in. Andrew lifts his right arm up, flexing, watching the ball form of his bicep. He brings his other arm up and shows off a most muscular for Matt. Seeing the tightness of his six pack and much larger pecs. Andrew in a matter of minutes has went from a jock built to something more like an amateur athlete. Andrew moves his hand down his furry chest, crossing his hairy covered abs till it meets his cock, which now looks much more adequate with his thick pubic bush. He gives it a squeeze, as he notices Matt looking at him through the mirror. Andrew spins around to face his twin. “No more, Matt…” Matt shivers with desire as he watches Andrew flex and pose and feel up his bigger body. He slowly stands up, walking up to his twin. He’s still taller, but only barely. One inch at most. He also has a slight bit of muscle still on his once tiny bro, but maybe only about twenty pounds if that. Matt brings his own arms up and flexes, his biceps rising up proudly under his skin – he’d still be impressive to anyone who hadn’t seen him flex a few days earlier. His arms are clearly still a bit bigger then Andrews. Their cocks, on the other hand, look exactly the same size. While Andrew’s dick is more obscured by his new full bush, it’s clear that the two were hanging equally low. “Damn, Andrew. You look good.” Matt purred as he looked his twin up and down. “I’m almost glad that was a defective rubber. Andrew smirks at his bro, crossing his larger muscular arms in front of his newly firm pecs. “Control yourself bro,” his voice has lowered more drastically with this new change. “Another mishap and I’ll probably be the same size as you.” He stretches his arms over his head, feeling his new size. “Well, we wasted our day with experimenting. All this growth sure is making me tired.” Andrew lets out a deep yawn as he goes to sit on his bed. Matt’s eyes never leaving his body. Matt walks over and joins Andrew on his bed, reaching out, massaging Andrew’s newly thick shoulders and traps. “Having a twin who’s the same size as me wouldn’t be the worst thing,” he tried joking as he rubbed Andrew’s thick neck. “Who knows, Bro? Maybe you’ll become a gym rat like me!” Matt laughs, as he throws his head against the pillow on Andrew’s bed. Matt pulls Andrew back into him, until they are both prone and laying in each other’s arms. “Remember how we used to do this, as kids? Sneak into each other’s beds, just stay awake for hours at night, talking to each other? Well, whispering back then. We didn’t want our parents to hear us awake.” He chuckled. “Those were good times, weren’t they?” Andrew lays against Matt’s arm; its smaller then he’s used to with his new size and the lack of size Matt once had as he reminisces about those great times they shared. He grins, turning to face Matt. “Yeah…” Andrew leans in and tries to get a whiff of Matt’s underarm, but when his nose nuzzles Matt’s inner arm, there is no longer that manly masculine scent that he loved so much. He sighs, “Don’t you miss being big, Matt?” “A little. Okay, more than a little. I do miss it. It’s weird, you know? One day I’m the big man on campus and the next, well, not so much.” Matt pauses for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. “But it’s not all bad, you know? I’m, uh, learning to look at things differently. A Different perspective or whatever. Maybe I wouldn’t have chosen this, if you’d asked me a couple days ago. But hey, lemonade out of lemons right?” Matt turns his own body to look Andrew right in the eyes. “And you’re finally getting some meat on you! For me, that’s definitely a big plus!” Matt grins back at Andrew, running a hand over his brother’s hairy chest, feeling the contours of the new slab of Andrew’s pecs. “Could be worse, right?” Andrew pushes himself up on his elbows. “You’re right. It could have been worse. What if we were complete strangers, or even some stupid roommates?” Andrew bursts out laughing. “At least it’s happening between us, two close brothers.” Andrew moves in to kiss Matt, this time much deeper as the wall between them begins to break, most likely due to the recent surge of Andrew’s confidence from the recent growth. “If I get bigger then you, Matt, I will be there for you like you have always been for me all these years.” “Mmm..” Matt murmurs, surprised and pleased by the force of Andrew’s affections. “I know you’ll be there, Andrew. I know you’ll look out for me. I want you… too…” Matt’s voice catches as the words “Want You” escape past his lips. Like something deeper inside him is triggered. Matt can’t quite figure it out, but it makes him feel safe pressed against Andrew; their hard bodies mashed together on Andrew’s bed. His dick slowly starts to stir again, but Matt wills himself to behave. After all that’s gone on so far, he’s not entirely sure he can take much more, even though a deep part of him desperately wants it. Andrew yawns again, exasperated from the events of the day. “Well… I’m just gonna… sleep…” Andrew crashes out on the spot, his head hitting the pillow as he begins a deep snore. His body needing to recharge from today’s dramatic growth ordeal. As Matt pushes himself off the bed to move over towards his own, Andrew begins to mumble words in his sleep… To Be Continued... Coming Soon Part 07: While You Were Sleeping
  22. Thefty

    An Adverse Reaction (Part 2)

    Hello all, Part 2 of Adverse Reaction. I hope you enjoy, will need ideas for my next story, so please feel free to message me with suggestions. For the next few days, Nick avoided me wherever he could. I didn’t see him for several days initially following the unusual events that took place in the gym shower. I had continued to grow all the way back from the gym at a much slower rate; it seemed over the next few days that I also continued to grow increasingly more powerful in the gym. My lifts were going up and up and so was every part of me. I couldn’t believe how strong I was getting, it was like a dream come true. However, despite clearly trying to avoid each other it was inevitable that we would bump into each other in such a small flat. That day came almost 8 days after the shower incident. I was struggling to squeeze myself into my old clothes. My slender jeans and slim fit tops were now discarded in the back of my wardrobe as they split when I put them on. Either that or they fought with pecs for space or dug into my arms and shoulders with incredible discomfort. Now I had to settle for baggy jeans or baggy shorts and my old hoodies or sports jerseys. Unfortunately I owned very few, and all my shirts now, began to stink of man after about 4 hours of wear. Apparently whatever my body was now kicking out, it smelled strong and powerful, just like the rest of me. I waited for a day when Nick wasn’t in. It was a plan that required patience, but I found that my new persona was hungry for a change in the dynamic at home. I grinned as my phone chirped. I looked down and opened up the grindr profile, I had paid extra to have the full app and get the notifications, because it was all part of the major plan. My grin was because, some new pics of me had sent my sexual appeal into the stratosphere and I was enjoying my new found appeal by fucking tight ass like a man in a desert, drinking water, for the first time in months. One new revelation out of all of this, was an increasingly dominant and slight sadistic streak in the bedroom, which had proceed to have grown only stronger in keeping with my outward appearance. I loved to watch down over my newly minted pectorals to see them suck me off, their eyes fixed on mine. The power of it. I knew I was getting hooked on it as a sensation. However, I also knew my plan involved me having to put that to one side, to achieve what I wanted. Knowing what I liked as a dominant in the bedroom, I began to talking to fellow dominant muscle guys. Guys who could gift me the very thing I craved. More power. Posing as a fit, athletic submissive, I found it tough to find the right dominant. Until today. I knew my housemate was out. The timing was perfect. This guy was just right. Arrogant and rude. Older by 15 years. Married with kids. Bulging with muscle and hung to fuck. I couldn’t steal from a guy like me, I had to take it from someone with ego, someone who looked down on me. Someone who only saw me as an inferior male specimen. The phone chirped again. As was the plan, he was coming right over from the gym. I had to be ready for him, on my knees, wearing a sports vest and a jockstrap. I looked over at the bedside table. There waiting for him, fresh from the gym, was an ice-cold, orange coloured protein shake. As I heard the handle of the front door turn, I was on my knees, I picked up the protein shake and held it out in front of me. If this worked, well… This was going to be amazing. He entered. He said nothing, but snatched the shake and kicked me backwards onto the floor from my kneeling position. I dulled the malevolent look in my eyes and watched as he drank the post-workout shake as I had offered to have ready for his arrival. If it tasted of anything, he did not express it. I watched his thick, powerful arms hold the shaker aloft. Sweat streaked his huge physique, he wore only a black string vest and some loose red gym shorts. He kicked off his shoes and stepped towards me. I could smell his fresh, fierce gym scent. My face in line with his crotch, I could smell his uncut cock. Suddenly it kicked in the light polyester shorts. It surged towards me, huge. Bigger than Sam. He growled as I massaged his legs, the organ pulsing to life, growing hard and thick. Moments later, he had lost control, grabbed me by the vest and the jock, shouldered his way into the bedroom and dumped me on the bed. Only, this was Nick’s room. I didn’t have time to correct things, as this guy was on me. Using me for his own pleasure. His cock pulsed down the length of my back, he grabbed me by the neck and I felt the searing pain of his cock enter me. It was brutally painful and I grunted, but he stifled it with one big sweaty palm over my face. He rammed my face into the bed, forcing my ass up. My hands gripped the edge of the mattress and I was forced to breath in my housemates acrid stink, which would have previously made my own cock harden. But I was becoming a different creature now. I wanted to fight back and push this asshole off me. But I wanted to grow. I had to be right, it had to be this luminous orange shit Sam had been necking everyday. The guy behind me, grunted and laughed at my apparent pain. His organ really was monsterous and he was damn strong. I could hear the wooden bedframe, creak, that unmistakeable sound of wood splitting as he ploughed me. Nick’s furniture moved across the floor between each, titanic thrust. Then it happened, I felt his cock thicken, and then thicken again, straining my hole. I felt him began to fire round after round into me. The change, was immediate. I felt it inside me. Like a spark to a freestanding pool of diesel. I ignited. My head rose up. “Oh fuck yes… FUCK…. YES….” Was about all I could utter as it ripped through me. Energy, masculine energy suffused my limbs. I felt my ass kick back, my thighs bulge with new mass. Fuck, I felt strong. My back cracked and I lengthened up the bed. I grinned as it hit my shoulders. I was no longer able to hold onto the roleplay fantasy as I felt my shoulders undulate and widen, lats surging in power. “Yes… I’m g-growing… This is fucking amazing…” I felt the softening cock slip out from me. I rolled over and saw the expression in his face. It was a face I had not seen before, a mixture of revulsion and desire. He loathed watching me grow but desired it for himself. He was torn, he felt drained, he wanted to leave, but he needed to know how too. I extended my longer legs over the bed, sprung forward with my strengthening arms and stood in front of him. I grinned at him only now slightly less tall than him, but in a split second, the margin vanished. I growled again. My pecs surged and thread of my vest creaked and split at the shoulder. I inhaled deeply and the split widened into a tear, revealing the bulging mass beneath the fabric. Another tear, this time from below. He looked down and went pale. His prior former glory, soft and hanging limp, looked smaller than he had every seen it. It’s mass, very obviously being siphoned into its opposite number as my small jock was being shredded by the growing mound of my package. I laughed as it tore open the jock at my right hip and my newly grown organ fell forwards, thick, large and pointing menacingly at him before it pulsed larger again. My nuts beneath, not left out from the transformation. I brought my arms up and flexed, they bulged with power. My features refining, my masculinity surging as he, went the other way. His previous bulging ripped physique, was still big, but much softer. He was shorter, looked less masculine but I mostly seemed to have drained him of his cock, which looked woefully average now. He looked between my taught biceps and his own softer upper arms as I flexed, I was captivated my their shape and bulge, a big thick vein now across the surface of my left bicep. I looked back at him. “Now fuck off, or I’ll take more…” His trainers made a plastic squeal as he made for the door, stumbling twice over his now, too large shoes. I grinned, turned to Nick’s mirror and flexed. This was amazing. It would be several more days before I could take this new found ability and turn it back against Nick. Had I felt any pang of morality about going through with it, it seemed to evapourate with my last growth. I considered, I was becoming no better than Nick or the asshole who just saw me as a convenient hole, but somehow, I didn’t seem to mind. ********* It was on the day when I had no more clean sports jerseys to wear that I squeezed my newly bolstered frame into the biggest tee I had. Instead of looking ridiculous, I looked incredible. I was never going to hide myself again I snickered, watching myself in the bathroom mirror, my biceps straining the sleeves, chunky veins emerging from beneath the cuffs and my new enhanced pectoral shelf straining the shirt. Just looking at myself made the sleeping organ in my jeans pulse. As I was about to flex in the t-shirt, I heard the door to the bathroom swing open and Nick stepped in. He was dressed only in a towel. “I need a shower” “Yeah, I’m nearly done Nick, you can wait 2 minutes” My blood burned as it pumped through me. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had stood up to Nick, this was incredible. He looked at me malevolently. As I finished tusseling my hair with wax in the mirror, I gazed admiringly as my biceps swelled at bulged as my hands worked on my coarse, thicker hair. I glanced across in the mirror, Nick was watching my arms too as our eyes never met. “Right, all yours bro…” I grunted and exited the shower, smiling at the unmistakable hardening of Nick’s thick organ against his towel. He would never before have gotten aroused by me, but I couldn’t be sure if it was his protein that caused it, or whether Nick had always been secretly attracted to muscular jocks. As I walked out of the bathroom, it dawned of me that Nick would be in there for some time. His room would be unguarded. Checking over my shoulder, I crept into his room. The scent of his room more familiar now that my own bedroom was developing its own masculine scent. A quick glance across the counters and floors, did reveal that Nick had been entertaining Jenna recently. He left the very thing that I wanted, just lying there. I grinned and got to work. I traced the edge of my water bottle with a finger through the car ride, its precious cargo the only thing I could think about. Nick’s malicious gaze continued to drift from the traffic ahead onto my swollen arms, the size and obvious power, stretching the sleeves of my previously baggy t-shirt, whereas his underarmour hid what he had clearly lost very well. He had managed however, to quite easily convince himself, he was no less of a man than he was the previous week. As we arrived at the gym, as we exited the car I took my first gulp of my water bottle, the lemon juice not really disguising the digusting taste of his ejaculate. I loved the feeling of pure energy as it burned down my throat before setting a raging fire within my gut. More suddenly than I expected I began to feel myself grow as we crossed the car park, I could feel the arms of my t-shirt dig into hardening biceps, my burgeoning arm reached down to readjust my package which was becoming rather uncomfortable in my new jock, I bought to replace the previous one. “Stop playing with yourself…” Nick scolded his voice breaking as he did so. I loved the feeling, watching him wilt as I grew stronger and stronger. It was hard to avoid the temptation to drink all of the contents of my shake, but I resisted. I walked over to an empty weight bench, the agreed exercise to be shoulder press. After a quick warm up, I grabbed his usual working weight and hefted it over to him. He looked a little anxiously at the large imposing dumbbells before turning his face into a snarl. He hardened the look as he got his arms into the perfect start position with a little help. I stood back and took another big swig of the potent protein shake. On his second rep and his arms visibly twinged as his muscle thinned, his face strained as his arms struggled. “Bro…” he struggled growing red in the face As his face glowed so the change rocketed through me, I could feel my chest swell outwards. My tee was now edging towards dangerously snug. The end of my shorts were now rubbing the top of my knee and not the top of my calf as the flourishing muscle and elongating limbs, pulled them vertically. I positioned myself behind him, and applied a very firm pressure from beneath his elbows to help with the weight, but he still struggled, the contours of his elbows feeling flatter and softer. His weakening arms inched upwards a little more before stopping, as his muscle ebbed, it felt like I was draining it right out of him. Nick’s arms collapsed and the heavy dumbells came clattering to the floor, he leaned forwards onto his knees totally spent. Before we switched seats I took another big swig of the shake. My weight was less than Nick’s but much more than I would normally throw around. I hefted the weight into position, getting one up with the help of a quad, as the undeniable cracking of the hem of my shorts resounded in the air of the gym. I pressed the weight, from my stance I could feel the bulge in my underwear swell, the feeling of wellness and masculine power bolt through me as I pressed the weight, after the second rep, it felt light. It felt like the worlds best pump. But I knew better, I was growing still. I racked the weight, and grinning, watched Nick’s face fall as I grabbed more weight. I restarted shoulder pressing the heavier dumbells, now matching Nick’s weight, it was tough at first but it got slowly easier as I felt my growth continue but at a slower pace. The delts fought back hard against the taught fabric, the power of the muscle winning out on the fifth rep, as two seams cracked. The protuberant muscle tearing the fabric apart. I grinned at Nick who looked white with shock. The sixth rep, forced the muscle to bulge larger again, the stronger, harder, steely muscle tearing more of the seam like a knife through butter. I felt the pressure around that shoulder relax and I grunted a lewd moan, feeling the sinew burst from its cloth prison. “Oh fuck yeah… growing…” I grunted. I turned to the mirror, bringing both my arms up displaying their new expanded form. As I gently flexed, more cracking was audible. I drank in my new form, whilst openly taking long stares at Nick, he seemed weaker by the second where as I was empowered. My skin seemed to glow with vitality, my features more masculine and edgy and my eyes sparkled. I couldn’t remember, ever feeling this good. I think, looking back on it now, objectively, this would probably have been enough to address the power balance in the flat, to bring things back to an even keel, but something inside me had grown stronger too. I felt that “evens” wasn’t enough, I didn’t even wrestle with the desire, I simply gave into it, to the temptation to take more, to feel the power course through me again. I chugged some more protein shake and suggested some lateral raises. Nick for the first time, seemed almost defeated but agreed. I watched as we moved over to the smaller free weights. I watched Nick gingerly pick up the 8kg. “Shoulder injury…” he coughed, by way of an excuse for not using his normal weight. I watched as he began the exercise, his weakened musculature, struggling with the small weight. His arms shook and sweat seemed to pour out of him. I grabbed heavier weights and began exercising next to him. My eyes firmly locked onto the powerful body I barely recognised in the mirror, Nick looked on, watching striations burst out of my skin into prominence. Exhausted he let the weights hang by his side as I grabbed heavier ones. By now, I could feel others in the gym watch as my shoulders swelled and veins pulsed over the surface. I wracked the dumbells and brought my arms up into a flex. The swollen arms and shoulders, openly tearing the arms of my vest with audible cracks. “YEAH!” I roared, totally absorbed in this power, not caring how the transformation was affecting not just my body, my whole personality. On reflection, how many of us could be in this situation and not take it all, how many of us would turn down the opportunity to be elevated above others. Maybe, the old me could have turned back on it, but the testosterone tearing through my body, urged me on, pressing me to turn the knife in Nicks wound. At least, I tell myself it was that. Before I could pose again, Nick was gone. I glanced over to see him slip back into the changing rooms. I grinned, casually following him, sauntering through the gym, as other guys eyed my new form, probably the first time they’ve ever noticed me over my flatmate. In the changing rooms, Nick stripped and hurried into the shower. I could barely stop myself from grinning as my ruined workout shirt hung off my surging frame. I gently peeled the remains off, letting it drop to the floor as my chest caught my eye. Not only was it distended with muscle, but a fine coat of hair was now generously coating it, only adding to overstate the power and evolutional masculinity behind such a display. My thickened legs were swelling as I padded from foot to looking in the mirror, eagerly flexing my now bulgy and rounded biceps, the forearms crammed with veins and distended with a sickeningly thick spread. I chugged down the last of the precious shake. My eager guzzling causing the odd drip to land haphardly on my swollen pectoral shelf. Even as my left hand casually quested for it, I felt it absorb into my skin. It was like my body was adapting to Nick as a source of food. With my legs rolling over each other, I made for the shower. I knew Nick would want to once again try and put me in my place, with the only advantage he still had. I deliberately entered the shower, facing an opposite shower head to Nick. I felt the familiar surge within me, the change was coming, and this would be a big one. I knew Nick had his back to the shower head, as he always did, any excuse to show off his almighty package to anyone who would glance at it. I glanced out of the corner of my eye, his once proud muscle, softened, his hard look now distinctly puffier and flatter. His once thick neck, now looking thinner and less impressive. His typically rounded biceps looking more fusiform and slender. Yet, I was still aware his package had remained large. In his rush to get into the shower, he hadn’t appeared to notice the other changes to his body. “You think that I wouldn’t notice Sam?” He said suddenly, as I felt my back begin to furtively thicken. “Notice what bro…?” I asked innocently, turning halfway to face him. “You stealing my protein powder… It’s really good stuff bro, but I’ve hidden it now. I’m not sharing anymore with you, so enjoy the growth, because believe me, when I get back on it, I’m gonna make your life pure hell” He grinned at me his features malevolent. His hand reaching down and palming his thick, long piece of meat, grabbing the base, he gave it two quick tugs. If he registered that it didn’t seem as big, or as long as usual, his face didn’t reflect that. “However big you get, you’ll never be bigger than me where it really counts” He said laughing. But his laughter died away when I turned to face him. He drank in the image, watching, as my muscles seemed to bulge bigger. His mouth moved wordlessly as if trying to speak but unable. I felt the dragon roar up within me as power streamed through my body. I felt my legs lengthen, taking my growing profile in higher, I couldn’t believe how strong, how powerful I felt. “Alright fine…” I said finally, breaking the silence “But… I think you’ll find Nick… that I’m the one bigger where it counts and if I’m bigger, you have to suck it…” I continued Nick, his eyes darting between my chest, abs and, what was now a bigger than average flaccid cock. “Heh, I’m still bigger bro, you got yourself a deal. And if I’m bigger I guess that means you have to suck mine!” he grinned. “well… alright then…” I said feeling my growth slacken off again He began massaging his cock, it would have been impressive by anyone’s standards, of course, anyone that hadn’t seen Nick before this week. Now as I played with my own thicker, longer tool, it felt great as it engorged and grew hard as steel, the whole throbbing pole feel amazing in my hand, better than ever before. What I presume Nick used to feel. My bigger, swollen balls, pulsed with energy, my skin on fire. To my surprise, Nicks cock thickened obscenely, hanging lower and lower as he caressed it with a fist, soon it grew harder and began rising up, pointing straight at me. My sword rising to meet the opponent, like the calm before a joust or fencing tournament. He stepped forward, my eyes angled downward to meet his, I was growing taller. Again if he registered this, he chose to ignore it. Instead, he grabbed my big thickening pole and pulled me in closer toward him. But I grinned as I felt his purple, engorged cock head jab into my abdomen. My own cock, falling just a few millimetres short to do the same to him. I watched Nick return the smug, arrogant look plaster all over his face again. “Heh, you know, I’m gonna enjoy this…” he smiled, placing a hand on my thickened and bulging shoulder. I tried to look dismayed as I sank to my knees, the flexion making my quads bulge and distend. I’m not certain if Nick noticed much of what was happening, but glint in his eye suggested that somehow he was oblivious. I gazed upward, with as much of an innocent intent as I could muster, made all the easier as he gently slapped his cock against my mouth. I didn’t even have to time react as he bucked his now seemingly slender hips forward and penetrated my mouth with his thick organ. I concentrated on supressing my gap reflex and kneading the rigid shaft with the breadth of my tongue as he firmly handled the sides of my head for his own pleasure. As he thrust in, I could feel the last of the effects of the tainted protein shake start to slacken, but things were already accelerating toward my eventual victory as I watched Nick sneer, his legs buckle and toes curl. His insistent and powerful thrusting increased in intensity but weakened in power. I could take his cock more manageably in my mouth; I knew my grip on his legs strengthened as those very legs diminished. Then I felt it, before he knew about it, before even the tidal wave of his cum hit me. I felt the spark of power deep within me, grow hot and brighter with every passing second. I focussed on feeding that sensation and sucked hard on his cock and it felt like the dam burst within him as his cock pulsed and rope after rope of his thick white ejaculate launched into my mouth. I felt like I had the energy to run a marathon or move boulders, as I continued to suck hard on his organ. Within seconds, my thickened musculature began to grow again as I took everything Nick had to offer. I glanced up at Nick, his head back, totally gripped in pleasure, his eyes half closed. I watched as I saw his chest weaken, his abs lose definition, and his thighs lose the impressive thickness. I knew his cock was shrinking too as my mouth now held his whole length easily. I also knew exactly where it was going. On my knees, my now impressive slab of meat between my legs was hanging over a bigger pair of bull balls and grazing the wet tile beneath my legs, with every passing second, I felt it reel out and rest on the tile like a python. I couldn’t physically wait to see the new me, but I could feel myself growing larger and stronger by the second. The feeling was indescribable, save for the undeniable and unassailable power that coursed through every inch of my body. As pleasure washed over him, he placed a hand on my shoulder. I looked up, as he looked down, curious about the sheer size and breadth of the rugged, rock hard shelf he had gripped on to. As our eyes met, I licked the head of his cock clean and pulled the much shorter, dare I even say small, cock from my mouth and grinned up from the floor at him. He said nothing, as his eyes darted around my newly enhanced body. In a split second, his cock bucked and he came again, only managing two single ropes this time as it shot out and hit my chest. He watched as it absorbed into my skin and my pecs swelled even more freakishly than before. My shoulders widened and a involuntarily growl escaped my throat as I grew again. He fearfully stepped back, that’s when he noticed his transformation, in the opposite direction. “Whu- you… you took it?” “You gave it…” “No… I would never give it…” His voice sounding hollow and almost childlike “How…?” he ventured “I think it’s your protein, it’s nothing I’ve done” I said flatly I rose to my feet. I had grown so large, I put my final height at maybe 6’4, maybe more, my muscle, huge, thick, maybe 250/260lbs easily, eager and desperate to be used. I looked down at him, gone were the protuberances of his muscle, the towering, masculine height. His cock limp and shrunken. Despite this, his wolfish good looks remained, and the innocence in his face made his eyes sparkle even more. There was little more to say. He took one last look at what used to be his before turning and running. By the time I had gotten back to the flat that night, he was already gone. His stuff was mostly packed, he’d left most of his clothes, since they no longer fit him but he’d packed the important stuff. He left the weights and the bench. But I suspected that now they would be too light for me. I walked into the kitchen, not unhappy with my current situation. I wore only a pair of sweat pants, my big, muscled physique clearly on display, my obscene bulge displayed through the thick cotton fabric. I smiled as realised Nick left all his food, kitchen supplies and his vast array of supplements. But, on closer inspection, there was a gap above the refrigerator, my new vantage could show me that there was a footprint where something used to be. Nick had taken the experimental protein shake with him.
  23. Thefty

    An Adverse Reaction (Part 1)

    Hey guys, my first story on the forum, hope you enjoy, will post up a part 2 shortly. “Sam… SAM, GET IN HERE!” I hadn’t realised that I been instinctively cowering when his voice boomed across our flat. My friends first pointed it out when my hulking roommate invited himself out for drinks with us. It did come as a bit of a surprise to me when they told me this, mainly because Nick had never actually hit me or even threatened to, it’s just that I felt, like somehow, Nick could just bend my will. One of my closest friends at the time said I shouldn’t cower, like a puppy, but stand up to him. I could hear the strain in Nick’s voice though and I hurried into his bedroom. The sight and smell assaulting my senses as I entered; the smell of man went right up my nose in the first inhalation. It was sweat, stale sex, rich testosterone and damp, a kind of damp that you can only find in a student rugby players bedroom. It made my cock kick in its loose, thin, cotton sweats. Then of course, there was Nick, dressed only in a pair of boxers, with his weight bench sat upright, holding one of his 45kilo dumbells in both hands and grinning devilishy at me. “Dude, shoulder press… hand me the other 45!” his dark brows and long but spiked hair giving him a wolfish look. Dodging an empty takeaway carton, a discarded jock, a heap of college notes and at least one used condom, I picked my way to the dumbbell. The smell intensified as I got nearer to him. “Come on man, gotta get this done before Jen gets here” he grunted. I bent down, carefully raising the heavy dead weight. I hefted it over to Nick’s waiting hand as he got into position. I licked my lips as his biceps bulged as he flexed his arm into position. Both his thick pecs flattened out and his delts swelled freakishly, choked with veins from a pump. “Stand back” he ordered. I would like to say I watched, to say that I spotted him, but Nick was a tornado of male energy. A guttural roar emanating from his chest as he flexed the weight soaring toward the ceiling, his form disturbingly accurate. As his arms reached the maximum height, the clink of the dumbbells and the exposure of his forestry of pit hair, made my organ start to pulse in my shorts. As he went for more reps, so the smell escaping from his pits intensified over and over. The room filled with his scent. Looking back, I think that is one of the things that made me capitulate to Nicks demands as my flatmate. As the grunting continued, his shoulders and arms steadily bulging bigger from the pump, I quietly left the room wordlessly. I crept back to my smaller bedroom, put my hand gently on the top of my strictly average, rigid member, and felt it fire off into my pants. My legs weakening, I sank to the floor. My own varsity swimmers physique, feeling childlike compared to Nick’s hulking body. Soon, Nick’s girlfriend would be here, and I would be listening to them go at it for a few hours. I realised that I should probably try and get some sleep before it all kicks off. After cleaning up my own mess I walked down to the kitchen for a pre-bed snack, as I did, I thought about how Nick and I started off fairly evenly matched, how we were actually good mates who moved into this small, penthouse flat, off campus together. The weight set, the benches, bars, all bought with combined part time job salaries of both me and Nick. Now I barely get to use it. As I walked into the kitchen, I noticed his array of proteins adorning the top of the fridge. Is that all it took to make him bigger than me? Irritable, I escaped back to my room, snack in hand. I woke with a start. The all too familiar, rhythmical banging of Nick’s headboard against his wall had woken me. I decided against languishing in bed, getting a semi from the image of Nick’s powerful body fucking Jenna, his fitness-model cover girl. I skulked off to the kitchen and started making pancakes. Down the corridor of the tiny flat, I could hear Nick step up his rhythm and the grunting got louder. “He’s close…” I thought, before immediately regretting it, as I felt my cock thicken. I poured the milk into the blender and turned it on, which nicely drowned out the noise of Nick’s big finish. As I waited for the mixture to thicken, I again glanced up at the top of the refrigerator. Nick was reasonably busy, so I reached up and pulled down the white looking container. I had listened to Nick extol the virtues to protein, and pre-workout and whatever happened to be flavour of the month at the time. But this… this I didn’t know about. Which was out of character for Nick. I looked over the label, it was plain white with black text. Plenty of scientific writing, this was clearly not something picked up off the supermarket shelves. I couldn’t really argue with the results though. Nick had been getting bigger and bigger, much stronger too, all in the last few weeks his progress seemed to have jumped. But he wasn’t just getting bigger, he was getting leaner too. Most of all, Nick was getting bullish, ordering me around, demanding stuff, doing whatever he liked with little consideration, his new strengthened frame easily backing up his command of me. As that last thought lingered in my head I decided I should try some of the shake. Quickly, not wanting to get caught by Nick, I spooned two tablespoons of powder into a protein shaker and quickly poured water in on top. As I was shaking it, excited to see if I could catch up to Nick, I realised the sound of the blender had been masking the sound from Nick’s room. I reached and clicked the blender off and the swirling pancake batter came to a stop. I could hear the sound of my own breathing, and feel the beating of my heart inside my chest. But nothing else, Nick was clearly finished with his girlfriend. I had to get the stolen protein shake back onto the shelf before Nick came into the kitchen. I hefted the white tub into my hands and raised it above my head. “Dude… you made me a post-fuck shake!” I, almost froze at the sound of Nick’s voice, but managed to get the tub back on top of the fridge. My heart pounding at the thought of being discovered, sinking to the level of deception to try and catch up with Nick’s recent gains. As I turned to face Nick a further reality dawned. Stood there, semi hard, straining his boxers, a wet spot visible, his thick muscular topless torso, hard and glistening with sweat from his recent exertion. Nick’s look was not truly one of thanks. He observed me from underneath his thick dark brow, his bulging muscle giving him a menacing look. “Thanks for making it for me, but next time, don’t… it’s special stuff, only designed for me…” Nick almost growled through gritted teeth. “Tomorrow… you…me… college gym… chest day…” Nick continued between big gulps from my protein shaker. Thumping me on the chest with a meaty paw. I said nothing, as I watched the behemouth, swig the luminous orange coloured shake, small droplets escaping as Nick guzzled greedily, landing hapharzardly on his bulging pectoral muscle. “OK!?” Nick yelled, eyes narrowing, before belching loudly. “Yeah, sure Nick, sounds good” Nick eyed me for a few more seconds, turned on his heel and bounced off back to his room. I quickly retreated to bed, the pancake mixture left languishing in the blender. Tomorrow would be a heavy one. The next morning, I was awoken by the deafening bangs on my bedroom door. My head raised from my pillow to find my unimpressive dick had been erect and oozing all night, probably as a consequence of the thought of a gym visit with Nick. This crush had come out of nowhere, but it seemed to be growing stronger the bigger Nick seemed to grow. I dragged myself to the kitchen; Nick was already there, his tight muscle tank straining to hold back his bulging chest. “Time you got up lazy…” grinned Nick “Ready to go?” I croaked “What do you think little man?” he grunted, pulling a crab pose bursting with ripped muscle. As we walked to the campus gym, across the very quiet and expansive campus, the cold bit into my skin, but Nick seemed not to notice. Somehow, the elements only sought to make Nick even more brutally masculine and dominating. Reaching the gym, we headed straight for the weights section, deserted except for a lone American football player grunting softly between reps of squats. I did my level best not to stare at Nick, but mostly failed. His deep golden tan and his coarse dark hair gave him a wealthy exotic appearance, even as he began to warm up his veins pulsed and distended as his a gentle swell began in his muscles. “Chest today…” Nick said visibly bouncing ready to exercise. I berated myself for once again not suggesting a different body part. I only ended up working chest and sometimes shoulders because these are the exercises that Nick wanted a spotter for. I loaded up the bar precariously with extra 20kilo plates just for Nick. Trying his best to ignore me, Nick swung himself down on the bench and got into position in order to begin the workout. In this position, I was rewarded with the vision of the swell and heave of Nick’s chest. Nick on the other hand, would have had to settle for my crotch disturbingly close to his head. “Ready?” Nick grunted, and grabbed the bar, not really giving me time to react. As it transpired I was not immediately required. The new 20 kilo plates seemed like only an extra 5 to Nick’s mounding chest. He couldn’t help himself but smirk as the weight, no doubt felt lighter and easier to manage, than expected. I watched as Nick revelled in the all too familiar sensation in his chest, the pump soared through him, his triceps bulging as his chest bloating from the impact of the weights resistance. Again he pressed it up with ease, his big python plumping down the taught rugby shorts. This had quite literally meant, that whatever he was taking, maybe that new shake, had made him even stronger since last week. “woah dude… this is insane…” I said quietly murmuring watching the spectacle unfold. I watched on, Nick’s chest bulging and swelling as he grinningly pressed the weight, seemingly with growing ease. His arms didn’t shake and his form didn’t falter. His triceps flared, the veins distending along his arms giving him a look of sheer unstoppable power. He racked the weight without any help from me. When it was my turn, plates came off and I got into position, my head now close to Nick’s obscene bulge in his sweats. Not only did it look big, but this close, I could smell the incredible scent of the contents of his jock and it make the usual feelings bubble to the surface. I did my usual workout, my pecs fraught with effort and arms struggling with my usual weight, I watched Nick spot me, as my arms shook with almost half the weight he used, I looked up to him grinning down at me. This gave me the strength to finish my last few reps, but still, it served only to highlight the growing disparity in our muscle strength. The rest of the workout, I was feeling increasingly unhappy seeing Nick blow through all of his maxes and continuing to set new personal bests. I watched, uncomfortably as he nailed every chest exercise with greater than ever strength, amazed as he seemed to cope with anything thrown at him. I was so envious of his success, I figured I had to make a drastic change in my life or I’d get left behind. As I watched Nick strip for the shower, a common ritual after our workouts, that actually, maybe I needed to even the score. Later that night, Nick was out of the flat on a romantic date with his girlfriend. So I sneaked into his room while he was away. If Nick was taking this experimental supplement, there had to be some physical proof, letters, brochures, consent forms; there just had to be something to give me a clue. I needed to get on the trial. As I picked my way through Nick’s room, I found a cryptic letter from the andrology department of our university, now, SCU wasn’t exactly known for its research but, clearly, they were getting something right. However, before I had chance to read the information, I heard the familiar rattle of keys outside of the flat door, in a panic, I threw the letters back into the draw and slammed the draw shut, however in doing so, the cupboard rocked backwards then forwards. I looked upwards, in time to see the contents of one of Nick’s used condoms flow back out of the untied end and splash onto my forearm. I didn’t have time to react; I just bolted from Nick’s room out into the corridor and ran straight for my room. As I closed my door, I could hear Nick and Jenna come home and begin some post-date “activities”. My breathing calmed and my pulse slowed. My attention was drawn to the burning sensation on my right arm; I looked down to see the bright red streak across my supinated arm. I kept looking at it, it was red, and glowing, but there was seemingly no evidence of the disgusting contents of the used rubber. I was feeling hot all over, not just from the burning sensation on my arm, my clothes didn’t feel right on me. In the privacy of my own room, I shucked my clothes and went over to the mirror. I felt a spasm in my gut, then, suddenly, an intense warm glow spread through my body. I looked at myself in the mirror, my pecs hardened, abs tightened. I looked on in amasement, feeling sheer power tear through my body. My traps seemed to thicken, my delts pushed out from shoulders, giving them a fuller, rounded look. I was even convinced I was taller. I felt my legs precipitously thicken, I watched the inner head of the quadriceps surge into view, which only happened when I flexed, and yet, I wasn’t flexing. I looked up at my face, for the first time since I started college, I felt that I looked handsome and healthy. A grin unconsciously spread across my face. I had no idea how this happened, but I absolutely loved it. I posed for a little while longer. Feeling the bulge and play of my newly developed musculature, the heady experience of being taller, if only a fraction… Best of all the sensation that I must have a semi, except my cock was fully flaccid. I gyrated my hips watching the new piece of meat bounce around. It got hard easily and I wrapped my hand around it. My legs nearly gave way as my cock began firing round after round across the room, ribbons of pure white spunk blasted out and still my cock bounced in front of me, as if to fire again. I tucked the raging pole back into my strained boxers and glanced in the mirror. “Fuck yeah” I grunted, trying to flex my abs. Only, I’d never sworn into the mirror before… or actually… in many years. My stomach growled so I went to the kitchen dressed only my boxers. The bulge still present as I walked, for the first time, it seemed to bounce up and down gently as I walked along. I got into the kitchen, surprised to find Nick there, sat alone at the table, also dressed only in his boxers. He looked pale, and not in his usually arrogant vigour. The pale palour even made him look a little less masculine than normal. “You ok bro?” I said, sounding surprisingly manly. “Yeah, yeah, just had a bit of a funny turn…” Said Nick cryptically. The next morning, I woke up for the gym. I casually wrapped my hand around a raging morning erection, the cock, seemed bigger and stronger than I ever remembered. I brushed my hands up my thinner waist, across my flat stomach to the new shallow contours on my chest from my thickened pectorals. My hand found its way to the alarm clock, but it seemed I had awakened before my alarm clock, before Nick had the chance to wake me. I felt incredible after last night’s dramatic turn of events. Not only mentally but physically. I could feel energy just seem to stream out of me, I was ready to lift. The thoughts of stealing Nick’s new experimental protein shake could not be further from my mind at the moment, as a night’s sleep and deliberation had led me to the conclusion it was probablyresponsible for the effects of his potent spunk. I dressed, in front of the mirror, looking at my new body. I smiled as I quickly gave my arms a flex and my fresh, new biceps jumped up in my arms, now slightly less egg like, now definitely more fusiform in their appearance. Quietly dressing and walking out into the corridor, there was no Nick waiting with an annoyed glare, so I made for the kitchen. Nick’s half eaten breakfast was still on the table as he was filling up his protein shaker. “Y.. you’re up?” he croaked. I looked at him, he looked sleepy and tired. He rubbed his eyes and kept blinking at me. He was haphazardly dressed and his hair matted down to his head from the sweat of his night time activities with Jenna. “Are you ok dude?” “Err, just feeling a bit rough.” He answered, still staring at me. “Dude… did… you look like you, *ahem*, you’ve been making progress in the gym…” He continued, still staring at my chest. “Yeah, I think you might be right dude.” I replied, desperately avoiding the urge to show off my chest by flexing in front of Nick. He prepared his shake and we headed out. In the car, as we drove, I could feel Nick’s eyes stealing odd glances at me. I began to regret wearing the sleeveless top as I wasn’t sure if he was actually paying attention to the road. I could feel my balls tingle at the thought of a workout, I couldn’t wait to test my new muscle and I couldn’t wait to show Nick that I was capable of catching him up. As we arrived at the gym, he turned to me before we exited the car. “How did you do it dude?” “Do what Nick?” “How did you get bigger, we only worked out together yesterday, and now, you’re bigger… how?” “Nick, are you ok? I’m the same, just been working out hard.” “Dude, seriously?” “You’re delusional, now drop it” I growled with an uncharacteristic aggressive tone in my voice. Nick clearly got the message and promptly stopped asking questions, but his dark stare intensified. In the gym, Nick’s chest workout was woeful, his lifts were slightly down, he grunted and flailed with his usual weight and made much use of me as spotter. Clearly this bothered him, because he was getting progressively sharp in his statements as the hour wore on. When he had first removed his hooded jumper, he looked sick and, almost smaller. I however, was having a great workout, I loved the feeling of my chest bulging outward, the stretch of the fabric against it, the surge of the feeling of power and pride throughout me, setting new strength goals, took all my focus not to get rock hard. Whilst this was going on Nick, eyed me jealously. I could feel his cold dark eyes burning into me as he reluctantly spotted me for a new personal best. Before we could hit the showers, Nick insisted we do a flat bench press. I felt this was more of an exercise to prove a point instead of the training value of adding in another heavy set, complex lift at the end of the workout. As I pressed the weight up, I felt my body burn with exertion, I felt amazing. I added almost 10kg to my previous bench from yesterday, even with exhausted pectoral muscles from the previous hour workout. Nick racked up his usual weight, and through much straining and gritting of teeth and of course, some help from his loyal spotter, was able to do a few reps at his usual weight. As he racked the weight, it was clear the point he was trying to make, had not been as clearly illustrated as he had hoped. As he stared at me I obliviously fondled my swollen chest muscle. “What?” I asked “Nothing, lets hit the showers…” he said grinning for the first time today. Nick’s mood seemed to improve here as we entered the changing room. As he rather quickly undressed, I rolled my eyes, knowing what was coming. “Coming to shower?” he asked, grinning at me, as he intentionally groped his thick, soft cock, though wanting me to believe it as a mere adjustment for comfort. I undressed at the normal speed, grabbed my towel and followed him into the shower. As I walked in, I watched him slowly lather soap into his thick musculature. His soft cock, swinging gently back and forth as his arms worked above him. I turned my head, to glance at his cock, figuring the water must be colder than usual, as it seemed a fraction smaller than usual. As I got myself under a shower head, I looked over at him again. He was looking at me, but our eyes didn’t meet, he was looking downward at my groin. “Dude, come on, you took some of my protein didn’t you?” he said unexpectedly “Look, Nick, I didn’t…” “Listen, I told you to stay away from it.” He grunted, his eyes looking cruel with a darker hue. I glanced down at me, across my now swollen pecs, my flattered stomach, to my soft cock, I then glanced over at him. His cock looked back to its old size if not bigger, as our eyes met. I realised, that his cock was thickening. Never before had I seen Nick like this, his skin flushing, his cock becoming increasingly aroused. “You uh… need a hand there bud?” I snickered. Within a second he was on me, his powerful hands grabbing both my shoulders. When they wouldn’t yield he dragged me, hanging onto my smaller frame, causing us to collapse to the floor. I struggled against the huge bulk of his weight on top of me. A leg each side of my chest, he positioned himself on top of my pectorals, his big, thick cock growing up and outwards towards my face. His cock brushed my lips. “Is this what you wanted? Stealing glances at me all the time? Well, how does it feel now? Enjoying?” He grunted, thrusting his hips forward at the upward inflection of each question. He took hold of his long, engorging rod and smacked my lips with it. “Please st-“ before I could finished speaking, the salty, musky flavour of Nick’s thick member exploded forth as he sunk the head into my open mouth. His powerful thighs extended on top of me as more of the colossally large pole slid into my mouth. I tried to speak, but the organ took up all of my mouth, I tried to remove myself, but his huge legs pinned me. As he held himself up with one of his mighty arms, another steadied my head as he began driving the mammoth shaft in and out of my mouth. As he began pumping, I could feel a familiar burning throughout my limbs that I felt the other night after getting his cum on my arm. I could feel the precum drip down my throat, rather than fight this, I knew to let it happen, I would reach my goals, and Nick, total unknowingly, would help me. If I hadn’t had his huge rod in my mouth, I’m not sure I could hold back the grin I would have had on my face. I felt trapped as his mammoth legs pinned me, as he pumped himself into my face. I had to focus on breathing, but I could feel his pre already start to work on me, the power swelling within me like a tide. Nick was absorbed in sating his carnal urge, I brought my arms up around his muscular waist, I watched as the veins snaked and squirmed their way to the surface of my biceps, muscle fibres thickening, the individual muscles becoming visible in my forearms. I felt great, I wanted this, I urged it to happen. He grunted above, clearly enjoying himself, just as the effects of his pre began to slacken, I felt his hips increase speed an intensity. As his orgasm ripped through him, I could feel his seed fire into the back of my throat again and again. Greedily, as best that I was able, I sucked down as much as I could handle, gleefully knowing it would be my flatmates undoing. He grunted once again and then withdraw his mighty organ from my slickened mouth, shook the last remnants of his pure white spunk onto my chest. “You tell anyone about this… and I’ll end you…” His powerful body swaggered off back to the changing room, but yet as I watched him leave, I thought I could see a little less definition in his expansive back. As I lay there on the shower floor, I felt the seed I had just swallowed get to work on me. Slowly it burned in my guts, filling me with ever increasing power. I knew then, his act had given me strength beyond anything I could have achieved in a year of gym visits. I felt my ass thicken, broaden and push me up from the floor, I felt less of the floor as my back broadened and dense muscle moved in to cushion the bone. I jumped up, my stronger powerful legs growing at a pace. I glanced down to see my pecs swell, my flat stomach, flatten even more, the first hints of my abdominals erupt from beneath the skin. I grabbed onto the shower bar as more power bolted through my body. I felt the room lower as my entire body lengthened. My mouth let out an involuntary grown as my neck muscles bulged, reaching my arms up to explore my thickening neck, my new, stronger biceps bulged with power. I raced into the locker room, but I was alone, Nick had long since left, I looked into the mirror and didn’t realise the new, taller, stronger and all round more masculine Sam staring back. I pulled a double bicep pose, amazed at the sheer size and power contained within my arms, I’m not sure the average person on the street would consider them big, but I was on my way. They had to be 15 inches around, I estimated. Best of all, the familiar hardening of my cock, had a most unfamiliar quality to it. Looking down, my erection strained the now tighter swimmer trunks, the bolder individual leg muscles fought the elastic. I as I slipped down, the apparently looser waist band, I was more than happy to see my usually unimpressive erection, looked super hard, but also both longer and thicker. My bigger balls pulsed below it, urging me to lift, urged me to fight and to persue. I resisted however, and redressed myself and made for home, I had a plan. (to be continued)
  24. EcchiMultiverse

    Marvelous Man - Chapter 18

    All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1OusqXuu_0KVzTlvVXsHdaYyqEm87JNuWHQUy71lLuxM) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD, DONALD MORGAN, ANDREW L, & MAXIM All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1OusqXuu_0KVzTlvVXsHdaYyqEm87JNuWHQUy71lLuxM) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD, DONALD MORGAN, ANDREW L, & MAXIM Chapter 18: Reunion Two days had passed since Gemini visited Justice’s hometown, Sunnysville. During that period, the two only met during debriefings at the D.A.B. headquarters regarding Gilgamesh’s interrogations and fieldwork. It was always an awkward tension Justice could feel between himself and Gemini. And it seemed to increase whenever Gene talked to him in Gemini’s presence. He wished he had the answers to resolve the situation, but the crossroad of choosing “the one” had been difficult. It came to a point when he questioned if he even loved Gemini or Gene and was not just lusting after them. Thankfully, the past few days had been a helpful distraction. Currently transformed and located inside of the Barticle Troy Mall, Marvelous Man twirled into the air. The musclebound superhero activated his flight power to stay airborne for a few seconds; dodging a bolt of lightning crackling into the ground where he once stood. The floor splintered into fragments that briefly flew into the air. In retaliation to the electrical attack, Marvelous Man threw his golden wreath at the caster. The golden wreath whistled in the air, as it whirled itself towards the attacker. The assailant knocked it away with his weapons; a pair of short-handed axes with magical runes etched on them. Spurts of electricity arced through the axes, while the etched runes glowed a soft blue. Upon failure of striking the assailant, the wreath sailed back to Marvelous Man. Marvelous Man caught the projectile and stared down at the foe. The magical axe wielder was a man who looked to be about as young as eighteen. His skin had a pigmentation so dark, it was nearly black. And his body had a trim muscle tone that bulked at his back and thighs like an Olympic wrestler. The young man wore a hunter green loincloth with two leather belts. The brown belts crossed over each other in an x-pattern and sagged at his hips . It had a loop on each side as a means of acting as the short-handed axes holsters as well. Adorned on his shins and forearms were bracers made of zebra pelt, and his footwear consisted of simple, brown sandals. The young man shouted, “Come down and fight me, coward! Or is your fear of a Skeleton Lord guardian that great?” The Skeleton Lord guardian clanged his magical axes together, while he glanced about. The etched runes on the enchanted weaponry glowed a brighter intensity of soft blue light. Electrical discharge dances around the axes with more frequency, as the weapons’ blades vibrated from the loud clash. “Your so-called heroes are afraid of Zareb the-...where is everybody?” he said. The Barticle Troy Mall was completely empty; emphasized by Zareb’s comment reverberating the vacant building. Other than the Skeleton Lord guardian, the only people on the first floor with him were Marvelous Man and Octomentist. Zareb’s eyes shifted about in search of a supposed audience. Marvelous Man called out with his thoughts, “Gene, he’s figured out we got everybody evacuated. I think he’s gonna make a break for it. Is it ready yet?” “We require a few more seconds, Marvelous Man. Gemini is applying the final parts,” telepathically replied Gene. The electrical tribesman glared up at Marvelous Man before looking down at Octomentist. The female superhero, draped in her red kung fu gown, held all eight of her cybernetic arms up in a battle-ready position. Zareb flexed a confused eyebrow while seeing Octomentist transform her golden arm into a golden tendril. Octomentist then whipped her golden tentacle-like arm in an underhanded motion. The tendril darted towards Zareb; moving downwards before curving up the moment it got close to touching the ground. Upon reaching its target, the golden tentacle coiled around the electrified axe in the supervillain’s left hand. the tendril tightened, as Octomentist immediately placed one of her chrome-plated arms on her transformed Gold Arm. Any electricity emanating from the magical axe traveled down the conductive golden limb; only to be absorbed by the prosthetic superhero’s Lightning Arm. Zareb tugged and chopped at the golden tendril with no success. Seeing the Skeleton Lord guardian momentarily distracted, Marvelous Man flew towards the villain for an opportune surprise attack. As the musclebound superhero raised his legs for a dive kick, he instantly realized he reacted in the wrong way. He could see it all unfold in slow motion. Zareb released his caught axe, while simultaneously waving his other electrified axe in an upwards motion. An arc of magical lightning released from both axes and reached out to one another. Upon connection, the tethered axe reacted by leaping towards Octomentist. It spun like a buzz saw; wrestling away from the golden tendril’s bind. The magical axe zipped past Marvelous Man, as it drew closer to the eight-armed superhero. Releasing her Lightning Arm’s clasp over the Gold Arm, Octomentist raised her chrome arm in attempt to block. The tendril form of the Gold Arm retreated back; trying to reshape itself into a more defensive attire. The speed of the whirling axe was far greater than the Gold Arm’s shapeshifting and collided with the superhero’s Lightning Arm with a loud clang. The chrome arm had saved her twice at the same time, as it had immediately absorbed the axe’s extra discharge it gave off. The impact of the enemy’s weapon threw Octomentist backward; causing her to land on her back. As for the axe, it pierced into the ground next to her head. Marvelous Man was distracted by the commotion and miscalculated his diving kick. His legs pounded into the ground only a finger’s length away from the Skeleton Lord guardian. Tremors from the error travelled up his legs; making it momentarily feel as if his overly-muscular limbs had stepped onto a sword’s blade until it rammed into the hilt. The vibrations and shattered flooring caused Zareb to stumble back and nearly lose balance. Distracted by the blundered attack, the electrical arc connecting the two magical axes lost focus and completely severed. Zareb spat, “Cursed wretch.” The Skeleton Lord guardian turned around and proceeded to flee towards the mall’s exit. Marvelous Man activated his flight powers; his legs too shaky from the impact to do an on-foot pursuit. At the same time, Octomentist stood up. Her face looked unamused, as she sharply exhaled through her nostrils. The disk in her right shoulder socket rotated her set of chrome-plated right arms, until it located the correct cybernetic limb. She then placed the chrome arm, that was known to Marvelous Man as the Gravity Arm, on her chest and activated it. A dark aura emitted from the arm; causing Octomentist to become weightless. Leaping forward before the nulled gravity completely took over, she aimed another cybernetic arm behind her. The arm was none other than her Air Arm and activated to jet a stream of compressed air out of her palm. Octomentist reacted at the same time by assuming her body in a more aerodynamic position through leaning forward. “Gene!” shouted Marvelous Man’s thoughts. Fairuza telepathically replied, “It’ll be up in 3-2-1-!” As Zareb was about to pass a row of columns, a paper-thin wall of rainbow-like light materialized between the white columns. The electrical tribesman collided into the flimsy sheet of light as if it were a solid wall. His face and body looked as if he had smooshed up against a glass panel. “Magical barrier successful. Subject is now contained. Well done, you two!” said Fairuza. Marvelous Man flew towards the trapped Zareb, but was cut off by Octomentist. With the Air Arm providing propulsion, the eight-armed superhero zipped past Marvelous Man before he could accelerate. Octomentist crashed into Zareb’s back in less than a second and tumbled to the floor. The electric tribesman slid down to the floor after the sudden compression; momentarily knocking the air out of his lungs. Zareb then pushed himself up, while using his axe as a prop. At the same time, Octomentist deactivated the Gravity Arm and Air Arm; ending the martial artist’s ability to fly. The prosthetic superhero then braced for landing and rolled herself back onto her feet. With all eight arms flexing into an intimidating pose, she was back to being battle ready. As Marvelous Man began to catch up to the two fighters, Zareb held out his axe. The magical weapon shot out its bolt of lightning in an attempt to reconnect to its fallen twin. Sailing past the two superheroes without interference, the electric bolt bonded with the axe stuck into the ground. The Skeleton Lord guardian then pulled back the electrified axe in his hand; signaling the other one to react. The musclebound superhero turned to watch the magical axe yanked itself from the floor and flew back to its twin. It began its usual spinning motion; slicing through the air at such a rate that the blade blurred. While flying back to Zareb, the electrified weapon slightly altered its course. The axe flew a wide distance around Marvelous Man; keeping outside of the hulking bodybuilder’s reach. It then began to curve itself towards Octomentist’s exposed back, and Marvelous Man was helpless to stop it in time. Marvelous Man screamed, “NO!!!” The Skeleton Lord guardian grinned ravenously, as the mystical axed was nearly an arm’s length away from murderously grinding into Octomentist’s back. The eight-armed superhero took a step forward and immediately spun around in a counterclockwise motion. Reaching out with her Lightning Arm, she perfectly timed her revolution and grabbed the electrified axe by the handle. As she completed a full rotation, she swung the magical weapon into Zareb’s right shoulder. The electric tribesman sank to the floor once again with the electrical current between the axes cutting off. “Daughter of blight!” he cursed. Dropping the magical axe in his hand, Zareb flinched in pain. The Skeleton Lord guardian rose a shaky hand towards his axe-embedded shoulder, as the blue light emanating from his enchanted weapons died. Streams of blood slowly seeped from the wound; drifting down the midnight skin. Octomentist huffed, “Shut up. It’s only a flesh wound. Just be glad I didn’t decide to hit your arteries after trying to pull that boomerang shit on me.” The prosthetic superhero turned to look at Marvelous Man. “Hey, Naked Justice. Before you patch him up, let me just do one more thing,” she requested. While twisting her waist back towards the wounded Skeleton Lord guardian, Octomentist formed her hands into a fist. She struck Zareb with four chrome-plated right hooks with each attacking different areas of the enemy’s left side: the temple, ear, cheek, and jaw. Upon quadruple impact, the electrical tribesman slumped face first onto the ground and into unconsciousness. Octomentist shook her right hands, “Okay, now you can do it.” Marvelous Man silently hovered over to the unconscious Zareb and landed next to the foe. He commanded the light within himself to flow to his hands in preparation for healing. The light within him obeyed and began illuminating the bodybuilder’s meaty hands. Placing one hand next to the wound, Marvelous Man placed his other on the magical axe’s handle. The musclebound superhero took a breath to brace himself for what he would do next and began to feed his light. He recalled the happy memories of Papa Ares giving him ice cream and cookies for breakfast the day after Ares caused him to dislocate his knee. Pulling out the weapon with a quick yank, Marvelous Man commanded his light to begin healing. The light complied and extended itself over the wound. Seconds ticked by as the wound slowly sealed itself up, and the bloody stream came to a gradual stop. With the job done, the hulking bodybuilder deactivated his power and stood up. “He’s stablized for now. I didn’t heal his concussion, because I’m pretty sure he’d wake up before we could contain him,” he reported. Marvelous Man called out with his thoughts, “Gene, can you turn off the barrier? We got the guardian.” “I acknowledge,” telepathically replied Gene. The translucent barrier began to dissipate, while Octomentist fished her chrome hand into her belt pouch. Pulling it out a second later, her hand revealed a flat device within its grasp. The eight-armed hero then pressed a button on the gadget’s center and tossed it onto the unconscious Zareb. Upon landing, the device beeped before fastening itself on the back of the Skeleton Lord guardian. The machine began to leak metallic threads that lengthened and coiled about the enemy. Footsteps from beyond the pillars could be heard, as the expanding threads had completely mummified the enemy. Once bundled up, the device emitting the metallic threads beeped again and emitted a dark glow similar to Octomentist’s Gravity Arm. The bounded being then floated off the ground and hovered at the same level as Marvelous Man’s knees. Octomentist smiled, “Thanks for the assist, Naked Justice. It’s always interesting when I’m teaming up with you. Gotta say that you are just a magnet for weird. Well, see ya.” As she began to leave, one of her chrome arms reached out to grab the levitating perpetrator. She silently dragged the detained subject behind her, while the echoing footsteps grew closer. A thought crossed Marvelous Man’s mind. “Oh, hey. I think we need him. He’s related to the Skeleton Lord case that you helped us with last time...well, him and the knight your team caught yesterday,” spoke up Marvelous Man. The musclebound superhero thought back to yesterday’s ordeal. Marvelous Man and his team received an order to investigate a new supervillain that had appeared in the city. It was a man in an overly-decorated knight armor wielding a glaive polearm with designs similar to the weapon used by the Skeleton Lord. The supervillain proclaimed its loyalty to the Skeleton Lord while attacking civilians. There were no fatalities, but many were injured with sliced wounds. When Marvelous Man and the others arrived at the scene, the knight had already been defeated by Octomentist and was being transported back to the Arkos Division headquarters. Octomentist stopped, “Big man, I’d like to help you out, but I can’t. Arkos Division needs the wins it can get if we want to get some more funding.” “Oh, please! Arkos Division has their finger in nearly every technological pie. I know they can recoup any loss of funding the Nemesis Branch steals,” said a male electronic voice. The two superheroes turned their heads to spot Gemini and Gene walking towards them. The Soulem was now garbed with a few more accessories for field duty; a pair of red-framed glasses and a brown messenger bag with the D.A.B. logo printed on it. Gene frowned, “And to reiterate Marvelous Man’s statement, we need him. The D.A.B. and the Skyway City police need that guardian for questioning in regards to his relations to the Skeleton Lord.” “And the police can question him when they get their subpoena. But for now, he’ll be kept at our headquarters where we can keep him safely contained,” coldly replied Octomentist. Gemini’s mood rings transformed to orange. He rolled his eyes, “Let’s not dive into that bullshit, alright? You guys can only handle all the sci-fi stuff. Every time you guys tried to put the supernatural or magical shit in your prisons, it would pretty much literally blow up in your faces. I should know. I’ve witnessed it a couple times.” The Soulem pointed his white, rubbery finger at the encased perpetrator. “He’s a magical being, okay? We really need him. You can poke and prod the knight all you want, but this one stays with us. Or did you not notice the lightning bolts coming out of him?” stated Gemini. Octomentist snapped her fingers, “Thanks for reminding me. I gotta confiscate those axes. Huh…” As the eight-armed superhero moved to search for the magical axes, she paused. The others looked to where she gazed and spotted the rune-etched weapons already disintegrating into the usual black smoke the Skeleton Lord used for forming weaponry. The axes had already decayed halfway; any attempt to preserve them would be a fruitless endeavor. “Well that takes care of that,” she shrugged, “Look, I was the first on the scene here, and that gives Arkos first dibs. I can’t deny you guys from visiting him, since the D.A.B. is involved with the police this time. But that doesn’t mean I can hand him over. If you don’t like the rules, take it up with a congressman.” Marvelous Man could hear Fairuza speaking into his head. “Unfortunately, she’s right. We’re going to have to let her go with this one,” reported Fairuza. The men said nothing. Marvelous Man could not argue at all, since he had no idea what the rules and bureaucracy surrounding the situation were. With nobody to question Octomentist, the prosthetic superhero left with the bounded suspect in tow. Marvelous Man consoled, “At least we saved the day.” “Yeah, but one of our leads got taken away,” complained Gemini. Gene crossed his arms, “Marvelous Man is correct. What is important is that we saved the day and mitigated any further disaster to the fellow civilians of the grand shopping mall. We still have the Gilgamesh locked in our headquarters, and he is by far the worst of the three.” “Yeah, I guess so,” sighed Gemini. Gene frowned, “However, I do feel the worries at how easily these recent victories were achieved without the help of higher ranked individuals. If their purpose was to strike fear into the common man of Skyway City, they did not try hard enough.” “I am also bothered that there might be another guardian biding their time to appear again. I will immediately return to headquarters and review our previous encounter with the Skeleton Lord. Marvelous Man, perhaps you should see if any of the evacuated civilians need any medical attention,” he continued. Marvelous Man nodded, “Yeah, sure. I can do that.” The bunny demigod turned to Gemini. “Gemini, I believe you can help us by requesting the police to submit the subpoena for visitation rights. We must question the other two guardians the Arkos Division have incarcerated at their headquarters,” suggested Gene. Gemini looked away, “That’s not what I’m here for, but whatever. You’re apparently the boss, I guess.” Marvelous Man glared down at the Soulem, as Gene frowned. “Because you are new, I will excuse your rudeness for now. Be advised that you should be kinder to your teammates, and you WILL respect a man of the royal Totochtin lineage. Do you understand?” stated the Totochtin prince. The musclebound superhero could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise, as the noticeable tension between Gene and Gemini grew. It was a conflict between the two men he loved, but he could not bring himself to decide on a side to pick. The Soulem’s digital eyes dueled with the bunny demigod’s for a moment before flicking away. Gemini sighed, “Fine.” The Totochtin prince did not reply to the bulky Soulem’s impolite response and proceeded towards the mall’s exit. The hulking bodybuilder and his Soulem friend said nothing and continued to watch Gene leave. The sound of Gene’s footsteps echoed heavily in the empty mall. Once it seemed that the rabbit superhero had left the building, Marvelous Man turned his gaze back towards Gemini. The embarrassment Marvelous Man felt towards Gemini’s remarks was now replaced with anger. The color on Gemini’s mood rings had returned back to white, as the Soulem looked up at Marvelous Man. “THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!” roared Marvelous Man. The husky Soulem slightly cringed, as his mood rings had flashed to yellow. His eyes narrowed in surprise to Marvelous Man’s outburst; as if Gemini were a deer caught in the headlights. He hesitated, “Wh-what? I’m not his robot butler. He can ride my dick for all I care. Besides, he should be respecting me. I’m the one that drew the symbols incantating a barrier. All he did was use his energy as a power source.” “Don’t act like that’s what this is about! I’m okay with you shitting all over me. I deserve some of that. But not Gene, alright? You don’t get treat him like that,” said Marvelous Man. Gemini fired back, “He doesn’t treat you right either! You’re just another conquest for him. I don’t get how you can still love him. I’m the better choice!” Marvelous Man stared down at Gemini in bewilderment. He opened his perfect lips before pausing. He could feel another emotional tirade bubbling up along with his eyes becoming flushed with tears, but he did not want anybody to witness it. Remembering his D.A.B. shoulder patch kept him telepathically connected to his other team members, he slid his jacket off. As his black leather jacket hit the ground, the bitter taste of his true feelings came tumbling out. “...What happened to you, Gem? You got that new body, and it changed you for the worst. You’re so mean and selfish now whenever you don’t get your way...What happened to my friend, Gem?” he teared. He continued, “I thought...I thought I could make this work. I get that you’re dealing with new emotions and stuff. So I thought that I just wait it out a bit for you to come to your senses, and then we’d figure out this...complicated stuff. But you’re being a dickasaurus rex, man.” “Wha-no! Don’t say that…” said Gemini. Marvelous Man snapped, “But you are! How can I know that you’re right for me when you keep pressuring me to choose you. You kept talking about trying to understand me a couple days ago, but I don’t think you really get me. It’s hard for me to choose...But I think you’ve made it easier for me.” Gemini could only gape at Marvelous Man’s lecture, as his mood rings shifted to blue. Marvelous Man looked at the ground before turning away from Gemini. The musclebound superhero headed further into the mall; trying to get further away from Gemini seeing tears ready to stream down. “Justice…” whimpered Gemini. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Thumping his colossal body around a couple more corners, Marvelous Man began to slow down. He felt he had put enough distance between himself and the Soulem and started to look for a place to sit. Spotting a wooden bench a small distance away, he lumbered towards it. The hulking bodybuilder sat himself down on the bench and hugged himself. Marvelous Man wiped his cheeks; removing the streams of tears moving down his face. He felt so many sensations when saying how he felt about Gemini. It felt toxic and blocky. His mouth was feeling wet and bloated, while his throat felt lumpy and dry. Marvelous Man told himself he needed to calm down. He reasoned that the people outside of the mall might need his healing powers, and heroes don’t have time to cry when people need help. A voice spoke behind him, “Hey, slag. Been a while.” Marvelous Man froze. It was a familiar voice that he had not heard in a while. It was deep, male voice that carried a stereotypical cockneyed accent. It was a voice that came from none other than his first and humiliating encounter with a supervillain. Spring up from the bench, Marvelous Man quickly spun around. He glared at the last person he expected to see today. He confirmed, “PB&J Gang…” “Yeah, that’s us. I see you’re trying topless style this time,” smiled the peanut butter villain. Marvelous Man took another look at the sandwich spread foe. The first time they met each other, the PB&J Gang were five sentient creatures that would fuse into one being. The leader of the gang was a round, rectangular being made of peanut butter. Its underlings were four gelatin beings that took the color and flavor of different fruit jams: Strawberry, Grape, Blueberry, and Raspberry. They were currently combined with the leader as the torso and head, and the jam-like followers taking the form of the limbs. With the peanut butter leader being the head, his face was fully formed to look like a carved jack-o-lantern with a soft yellow light glowing within. It also had small horns pointing out of its head; dull but still menacing to viewers. Yet, there was something odd about the PB&J Gang that Marvelous Man noticed. Marvelous Man inquired, “Hey, wasn’t there five of you?” The peanut butter leader frowned. It was obvious to anybody that the combined version of the PB&J Gang appeared to be incomplete. They had the legs, but there was an arm-shaped jelly limb missing from the merged person. “Yeah, Strawberry’s been taken...And it’s why I’m here,” he sighed, “I really didn’t want it to be like this, but...I don’t got a choice in the matter if I want him back...Really sorry about this, mate.” Holding up his grape-flavored jelly arm, the PB&J Gang clenched his only fist. The gelatin being then motioned his fist to open as if it were trying to mimic an explosion. The sandwich spread supervillain said nothing as seconds ticked by. Marvelous Man took up a fighting stance, “What’re you…?” A gurgling noise echoed from the bodybuilder’s stomach. Marvelous Man could feel something beginning to build up inside of himself. It felt like he had just eaten a light lunch. But then it started to change; feeling the light lunch become a full meal. The pressure in his stomach increased to the point of overeating pain starting to develop. Marvelous Man hunched over to grab his abdomen. “Ack! Wha-what did you do to my stomach?!” he gasped. The PB&J Gang slowly walked towards him. His face was not exhibiting any pleasure at his actions. He explained, “Do you remember when we first met, mate? My crew and I were having our jollies robbing the bank, and you showed up trying to be all big and impressive. I graped your face, and you swallowed some of it. Now luckily, you never bothered to get yourself checked. Which made tracking all the easier.” “And funny thing about our biology, we can force ourselves to grow. So we never get digested. All this time, you had a piece of us in you, ya slag. We’re like that myth about gum staying in you for seven years. Only we can do it forever. And what you’re feeling right now, that’s us growing way faster than you can digest,” continued the PB&J Gang. Marvelous Man’s stomach groaned louder, as the hulking bodybuilder could feel his belly start to expand. His own abdomen was beginning to slightly swell against his arm. Marvelous Man then felt a sensation of something coming up his throat like acid reflux. He could taste grape jelly in his mouth. The musclebound superhero shouted, “...!!!” Marvelous Man stood there shocked before trying to scream for Gemini. Nothing he tried to yell was being vocalized; as if someone pressed the mute button on his voice box. The bodybuilder gripped his throat, as he realized the inside of it was still coated in grape jelly. Now standing only a step away the muscle demigod, the PB&J Gang thrusted an underhanded punch at Marvelous Man’s swollen belly. A surge of purple gelatin erupted from Marvelous Man’s mouth, as the overly-muscular bodybuilder fell to the ground. He laid there; crippled in pain. “Can’t let you call out your friends, Naked Justice. At least not yet. When I get Strawberry back, then you can call out to your friends with your spells or communicators or whatever. I’m beggin’ ya. Just play along for now,” said the PB&J Gang. Marvelous Man’s eyes widened with renewed hope. He thought as hard as he could to mentally call out for his teammates. Realization hit immediately upon realizing that he left his jacket on the other side of the mall. It was the only thing that carried the D.A.B. magical communicator patch. The only solution to that problem would be to clasp his golden bracelets together, transform into Justice, and then switch back to being Marvelous Man with a new black leather jacket equipped. It was a risk that could work...if it was not for his transformation being voice activated. Hope crashed into the pits of his jelly-filled stomach with full comprehension that there was no way out of this situation. The PB&J Gang enlarged their purple gelatin hand big enough to pick up an adult human. Wrapping his wet fingers around Marvelous Man’s hulking body, they only managed to grip half of the giant anatomy. The sandwich spread being lifted the muscle demigod before laying the front side of the bodybuilder onto his peanut butter back. The overly-meaty limbs of Marvelous Man sunk into the peanut butter substance like quicksand. Marvelous Man panicked and tried to thrash about; fearing complete engulfment and suffocation. As he tried to struggle, it only increased the pain in his stretched stomach. The overstuffed belly had limited his movements and caused his mighty arms and legs to be incapable of budging effectively within the thick entity. In a last ditch effort, the muscle demigod activated his flight power. He managed to gain some lift, but the peanut butter back reacted to the escape attempt by flexing. Clenching down, the smooth peanut butter surface had transformed into a muscular back filled with deep valleys and large cords that any muscle enthusiast would be jealous of. Marvelous Man was being pulled down once again; feeling like light unable to escape the immense gravity of a black hole. The PB&J Gang sighed, “Settle down, mate! I’m not trying to kill ya. Just trying to keep you from escaping. I need you alive anyways if I want to make the trade.” Marvelous Man ceased his movement. There was something interesting about what the PB&J Gang had been trying to tell him. He wondered who was holding their friend at ransom. With his body relaxed, Marvelous Man slid deeper into muscular, peanut butter back. The sinking finally came to a halt; just as the bodybuilder’s inflated gut was pressing into the muscled backside and the connecting joints were about to be immersed. The muscle demigod was glad that he was no longer being merged into the supervillain. But the situation was now incredibly uncomfortable due to his overstuffed stomach. Locked into place with the PB&J’s hard, muscular back pressed heavily against his belly, it felt like he was being punched at an excruciatingly slow pace. “Oh, right. I guess I better tell you who’s making me do this,” mentioned the PB&J Gang, “It’s that new guy that’s been on the telly for a bit. You and the D.A.B. have been fighting him. Calls himself the Skeleton Lord.” Marvelous Man’s eyes grew wide again. The sandwich spread supervillain continued, “Yeah, he’s one fucker I don’t want to tangle with again. The crew and I didn’t know it was him when we tried to prank him. Thought he was some homeless guy. Turns out he’s got that weird power with that black smoke and making bones just shoot out of him. He was able to do other stuff that I never seen anybody else do, but I don’t even know how to describe it.” “...But the one thing that’s got me proper scared is that he said he knows how to kill us for good. And I can tell that he is a man that doesn’t see the point of lying. I ain’t taking that chance with my own kin,” he finished. Marvelous Man’s heartbeat pounded at a rapid pace. The Skeleton Lord had a motive but kept doing things with no decipherable pattern to it. Marvelous Man thought back to what Gene had said about the previous guardians being too easy. If there was a fourth guardian or any sort of intelligence he could gather about the Skeleton Lord, this might be his only chance. The PB&J Gang turned to the mall’s alternate exit, but then paused. He scratched his chin, “Now that I said all that out loud...it’s probably better if your friends find you faster...I’ll just leave a trail. They should be smart enough to figure it out. Plenty of cameras here to spot us anyways.” The sandwich spread supervillain resumed marching towards the alternate exit while leaving behind a gelatin footprint with every step. Marvelous Man felt a drop of renewed hope that everything would work out. He could also feel that the growing grape jelly within him had reached his intestines and were inflating to max capacity. The bodybuilder was glad he had practiced with extreme-sized sex toys, as his body was accustomed to feeling full in the bowels and being extraneously stretched there. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> After being transported outside the mall, Marvelous Man was snuck into the sewers through a large manhole. The muscle demigod obliged to the PB&J Gang’s request and illuminated himself to light their way. He lost track of the many turns his sticky captor made, and he was at a loss of what part of the city he was in. Time seemed to drone on, as the nasty stench within the sewers faded from Marvelous Man’s senses. While being carried to the Skeleton Lord’s location, the hulking bodybuilder endured the PB&J Gang’s ramblings on the many mischievous adventures the gelatin supervillain had. Every now and then, the PB&J Gang would go back to how they met the Skeleton Lord. Marvelous Man eventually managed to put the small tidbits of information together and came at a conclusion. The PB&J Gang had stumbled upon the Skeleton Lord huddled underneath a highway overpass by a drainage system. They attempted to steal the Skeleton Lord’s cloak out of sheer dickery. The ancient evil did not find this action humorous and retaliated. The Skeleton Lord had been feeding on the rats in the area and was able to sever the Strawberry arm from the combined PB&J Gang. The Skeleton Lord held Strawberry at ransom and had them do two things. The first was to find an area full of misfits that would never attempt to contact any police or superheroes and use it as a new hiding place for the Skeleton Lord. And the second was to bring Marvelous Man to the new hiding place. With the end of the journey seemingly near, Marvelous Man noticed the PB&J Gang turning towards a metal door and not another tunnel. The sandwich spread being pushed open the door to reveal another tunnel. Upon crossing over to the new area, Marvelous Man considered they were no longer in the sewers. A stale breeze flowed past muscle demigod, as he observed a set of metal tracks lined across the tunnel. The PB&J Gang then walked down the dimly lit tunnel before turning into a clearing. Marvelous Man gasped at the familiar surroundings. The clearing was a concrete dome stained in splatters of dark red. Lined against the walls were rubles of the makeshift homes destroyed by Marvelous Man’s encounter with the Skeleton Lord. Lines were beginning to connect in the musclebound superhero’s head, yet no solid conclusion could be found. The Skeleton Lord’s new hideout was somewhere in the ghettos outside of the Ridgemont subway station. But for what purpose would the Skeleton Lord come back to the area the supervillain was discovered at? The gelatin being continued moving through the clearing and up the stairs. Upon breaking through the subway entrance, daylight casted itself on the two. The buildings before them were just as Marvelous Man remembered them; forgotten architectures rotten and gored of most of their interior. The PB&J Gang wandered further into the ghetto, as Marvelous Man kept watch for any suspicious activity. Chunks of time passed, as the supervillain meandered through the many bend and turning into different streets. The PB&J Gang finally came to a halt, as the gelatin being looked at the structure in front of the two. It was a two-story townhouse that was hidden behind the alley of two boarded stores. It barely had any blue paint left on its ruined husk, and whatever windows that were not broken had cracked panes. The air surrounding the structure not only carried the scent of a dead home but also its residents. “Brace yourself, mate. It’s really ugly in there. The sods been feeding but hasn’t dealt with disposing the scraps...you’ll see what I mean,” said the PB&J Gang. The sandwich spread supervillain twisted the knob and pushed forward. As it fully opened, Marvelous Man could only see blackness inside without any signs of light or electricity. The stench of decaying flesh and wood increased, as the PB&J Gang entered the townhouse. Marvelous Man could no longer handle the foul odor and began to lower his face closer to the peanut butter back. The hulking bodybuilder was slightly alleviated by the gelatinous being’s peanut butter scent mixing in with the rotting stink. Activating his illuminating powers, Marvelous Man’s light carved through the darkness to reveal the source of the death stench. The muscle demigod spotted corpses of humans and transpecies propped against the walls and flurries of flies buzzing about. As his captor moved through the house to a set of stairs at the end of the hall, Marvelous Man could see that the dead had different times of death. Some had recently died with colors still flushed on their skin, and others were past rigor mortis and had begun to bloat and leak rotting fluids. The PB&J Gang muttered, “And this is why you don’t do drugs or let supernatural things into your body.” Marvelous Man looked at the limbs of the corpses they passed by, while his captor proceed up a staircase. He observed syringe injection scars and crudely-made magical seal tattoos on the forearms. There were also runic designs painted in red on the skin; some cracked but still recent. A memory of what the PB&J Gang told him earlier about the Skeleton Lord’s first ransom demand lit up in his mind. “Find an area full of misfits that would never attempt to contact any police or superheroes and use it as a new hiding place for the Skeleton Lord”. The musclebound superhero had seen enough crime dramas to figure out this townhouse’s recent purpose before becoming the Skeleton Lord’s new hideout. Reaching the top of the steps, the PB&J Gang now stood in the hallway of the second floor. There were three doors; one on the left and right side and one at the end of the hallway. The doors on the sides of the hallway were open, but the door at the end remained closed. Realizing the Skeleton Lord is most likely behind that door, Marvelous Man’s heart rate began to escalate. It dawned on the musclebound superhero that this was his last window of opportunity to escape. Every instinct in Marvelous Man told him to run, but his resolve was stronger. The muscle demigod remained still, as his captor carried him through the hallway. The PB&J Gang’s pace was slow and seemed to drone on for eternity. Yet it was only the span of seconds before reaching the end of the hallway. Placing a grape jelly hand on the knob, the PB&J Gang slowly opened the door with a low creak. The noise of cartoon sound effects softly echoed in the air. The walls and ceiling were covered in the same whisping black smoke the Skeleton Lord expels. Barely cutting through the darkness was the dim orange light of a lit candle; resting on the ground. Marvelous Man could see a molded mattress nearly turning black and lying dangerously close to the flaming candle. There was also a human-like figure slightly depressing into it; dressed only in a red cloak with a bulging hood. Marvelous Man’s breathe ceased, as he came to a realization of who it was. The Skeleton Lord did not pay the two any attention upon entering his room. He appeared enamored with a smartphone in his hand; the screen’s light shining against the red hood. As he swiped his peach-pigmented index finger across the phone’s screen, the device played another soundbyte of cartoon noises and kids cheering. Seconds continued to pass, while the PB&J Gang stood there. “...H-hey, boss? I brought him,” spoke the PB&J Gang. The Skeleton Lord’s boney finger paused in midair, as the robed man looked up. Even with the phone’s light shining into his hood, darkness continued to obscure his face. The Skeleton Lord then laid his device onto the moldy mattress before standing up. He spoke, “My apologies. I was distracted by the glass tablet. The technology here is much intriguing. It really feels like yesterday for me when the common man rode on horses and not those self-driven chariots.” “But I digress, one should always knock before they enter. It is, after all, quite rude to barge into one’s room. Especially with royalty, such as I,” continued the Skeleton Lord. The PB&J bowed, “Uh, er, r-right. Sorry...my lord.” “That’s better,” replied the Skeleton Lord, “And even better is that you accomplished all that I tasked you with. You faired completely better than my other three guardians.” He sighed, “And I hear that in these times it is the third that is supposedly the charm. Though perhaps the fourth will fair better. Well, since I am in a most excellent mood, how would you like to be my fifth guardian?” Marvelous Man swallowed. This confirmed what Gene Lightfoot had been guessing. There was a fourth guardian ready to be let loose. The only problem was that he was not sure which one it was. The muscle demigod remembered in the previous fight with the Skeleton Lord, the supervillain was armed with a scythe sword and shield, a glaive polearm, and a pair of short-handed axes. The fourth weapon the Skeleton Lord used was probably used briefly before being disarmed and never registering in the heroes’ heads. “Please, m-my lord...I appreciate the offer. I really do...But...I just want my friend back, please,” declined the PB&J Gang. The Skeleton Lord scratched his chin, “Hmmm...I’d normally kill you where you stand after you slapped away my most gracious offer...BUT! We did have a deal. And a king must always honor their word. Besides, I could always find you again whenever I please.” “Allow me to secure the cargo first, and then I shall release your compatriot into your care,” he stated. The Skeleton Lord waved his hand. The whisping darkness covering the walls and ceiling stirred, as tentacles of the same material sprouted from it. The black tendrils reached out and ensnared Marvelous Man’s massive body. The ceiling tentacle cupped underneath the massive pecs, as the corner wall tentacles looped around the thunderous thighs and grappled over the mountainous shoulders and hairless armpits. Once secured around the colossal bodybuilder, the whisping tendrils pulled. The muscular peanut butter back trapping Marvelous Man showed no resistance; releasing the muscle demigod without a sound or any peanut butter residuals on the meaty limbs. After lifting the musclebound captive out of the PB&J Gang, the tentacles around the shoulders and thighs began to retreat back into the smoky walls. The wall tendrils that were returning to their dark source loosened their grasp; only to gently slide down the overly-muscular extremities. As the tentacles that traveled down Marvelous Man’s legs, it then encountered the leather black boots the musclebound superhero wore. Without any signs of resistance, the whisping black tentacles effortlessly stripped the footwear from the muscle demigod’s milk chocolate skin. The wall tendrils then reasserted their grip around Marvelous Man’s wrists and ankles, as the leather boots fell to the wooden floor with a dull thunk. The only thing left now clothing the hulking bodybuilder was the golden wreath and bracelets and the American Flag battle bikini. The ceiling tentacle, wrapped underneath the watermelon-sized pectorals, rotated Marvelous Man; situating the muscle demigod to face front towards the ceiling. It then dragged the muscle demigod to the center of the room and hanged the bodybuilder superhero at the Skeleton Lord’s waist level. The ceiling tendril released its hold over Marvelous Man’s torso and completely returned into the ceiling’s darkness, while the wall tentacles retreated further into the wall corners. With the wrists and ankles still restrained by the wall tentacles, the gargantuan limbs were pulled along with. Fearing his ligaments would be torn off, Marvelous Man attempted to struggle. His heavy body wiggled about, but he came to an eventual still seconds later. Right when his body parts were stretched at the maximum, uncomfortable point of feeling his joints dislocate, the tentacles ceased their retreat. Marvelous Man was suspended in a spread eagle position; his limbs bounded with no room to bend. The Skeleton Lord held a finger up to his unseen chin; appearing to plot something nasty if Marvelous Man could see his face. The ancient evil waved his hand and the wall tentacles reacted. The black tendrils attached to the hulking bodybuilder’s legs began to move sideways, while pulling the meaty legs further away from each other. Marvelous Man was confused at such an action, but it then became apparent as to what the supervillain was trying to do. The Skeleton Lord was trying to test the muscle demigod’s limberness just for sadistical fun. His overly-muscular legs easily spread apart but came to a thankful halt once Marvelous Man’s limbs were positioned into a perfect split. The Skeleton Lord must have realized any further could do severe harm to the musclebound superhero and ceased the whisping, dark tentacles movement. “Hmmm, impressive,” the Skeleton Lord murmured, “I would not expect a gargantuan star child to have an acrobat’s flexibility.” Marvelous Man’s frustration and fear increased, as he was tossed from one helpless state to the next. He wished he had Gene’s ability to turn this frightful situation into a sexy one. The musclebound superhero consoled himself that he could still turn the tables by activating his illumination power as a means of escaping the Skeleton Lord’s dark elements. The Skeleton Lord mentioned, “Ah, yes. I had almost forgotten about your illuminating abilities. You may not have your golden ocarina in hand, but I would be a fool to not take the precaution.” The man cloaked in red snapped his fingers. The whisping, dark tentacles shattered, as it revealed underneath its layer solid bindings made of bone. The lingering hope Marvelous Man had once again sunk back into his jelly-filled stomach. The only thing the superhero’s light could do now was reveal what specific white shade the bones probably had. “And with my requirement fulfilled...” announced the Skeleton Lord. Waving his boney hand into the air, the Skeleton Lord caused the whisping darkness in the ceiling to stir once again. A noise similar to thunder lightly rumbled, as an object fell from it. The object fell in front the PB&J Gang and crashed with a wet splat. Marvelous Man barely had time to glimpse at it, but it appeared to be a sort of gel-like substance. The PB&J Gang squatted, “...Strawberry? That you?” The object lunged at the sandwich spread being’s left shoulder; springing like an alien blob. Upon contact, the gelatin creature shapeshifted into a left arm that fitted perfectly into the peanut butter shoulder. The PB&J Gang petted the new arm. “It’s alright, love. You’re safe with us now,” he said. The PB&J Gang looked up at Marvelous Man, as he began to back away. Even though Marvelous Man could only see the gelatinous being from an upside-down perspective, the musclebound superhero could still see the frown and sadness in his eyes. He waved at the bodybuilder, “Well...I’ll let myself out. Have a nice chat, Marvelous Man.” The PB&J Gang then fell to the floor; shapeshifting into a large puddle of mixed jelly flavors and peanut butter. The shapeless mass immediately flung itself out of the room and out of Marvelous Man’s sight. With the only “ally” Marvelous Man had in Skeleton Lord’s presence gone, he slowly turned his focus back to the ancient evil. The panic in his heart had risen again. “Ah, that’s right. I had not been given the pleasure of learning your name...or the Totochtin’s for that matter. So the star child has been entitled the Marvelous Man?” hummed the Skeleton Lord. As the muscle demigod swallowed in nervousness, he realized something. The grape jelly coating the inside of his throat had receded back into his bloated belly. And the overeating pain he had been feeling during the transportation capture had also faded; he no longer had his overfilled stomach literally weighing him down. Even though Marvelous Man had been bounded and stretched without room to wiggle, he still had some sliver of chance to escape from the Skeleton Lord’s clutches. Marvelous Man answered, “Yeah...it’s what I call myself.” The Skeleton Lord walked around Marvelous Man; tracing his fingers against the rippled, muscular mass. The hulking bodybuilder shivered from the ancient evil’s touch. It felt cold and dry, and the fingers gracing upon the smooth skin tickled Marvelous Man’s nerves. And every time it seemed the supervillain’s body was about to collide with one of the bone fixtures attached to the musclebound superhero and the wall, he simply phased through it like a ghost. It was as if his own bone powers could not affect him in any negative aspect. “Hmm, such a vague name. It’s as if you are trying to convince yourself that you’re special,” he commented, “Ah, but that is not an implied insult towards you! Merely, that if someone other than you had chosen to inherit such a name, they would be such a pathetic being.” As the ancient evil rounded himself in front of Marvelous Man’s head, he stopped. The Skeleton Lord reached out with his skinny fingers and placed them upon the muscle demigod’s golden laurel wreath. He lifted the Olympian ornament from Marvelous Man’s temples with gracious ease. The Skeleton Lord held it up to his face, as he glided his fingers upon the wreath’s smooth and sharp edges. “But you...you carry it quite well. You are special. You are marvelous. You are not the strongest fighter in your party. No, your party members have made that point quite clear. YOU are the most important member. You are the healer. You help your comrades continue to fight with renewed vigor. And you assist them in areas they are weak in and unknowingly push me to my limits. I can never use my common bag of tricks with you around. Without you, they could never hope to contend with me,” he continued. Even with the Skeleton Lord so close, Marvelous Man could still not see the supervillain’s face. The bulky horse skull bulging underneath the red hood seemed to be casting its own shadow to mask any facial features. The muscle demigod did not dare use his illumination ability; for fear of angering the Skeleton Lord and most likely resulting in a quick death. Marvelous Man questioned, “And that’s why you had me kidnapped?” The Skeleton Lord tossed the golden wreath to the side of the room; curiosity apparently sated. The laurel ornament clanged onto the ground outside of Marvelous Man’s visuals. He slid a hand back into his red robe. “Mm, well, no. I wanted the Totochtin. But when that pathetic sap creature bargained for your capture instead and saying how easy it would be for them, I took the chance. Getting rid of you would make things flow much more easily. To think that all those legions of wizards and priests, and it was you that hindered me the most,” answered the Skeleton Lord. No matter what, the only thing the Skeleton Lord obsessed over other than the world’s destruction was Gene Lightfoot. Marvelous Man was aware of how after their first encounter, the Skeleton Lord seemed to have a soft spot for the Totochtin prince and never used lethal harm on Gene. He still could not figure out if it was due to Gene’s power or libido that caused such reaction. He shuddered, “So you’re going to kill me?” The Skeleton Lord cackled in a high pitched shriek. With no room to flinch, Marvelous Man could only react to the shrill noise by flexing his meaty pectorals. “I will admit, the idea did cross my mind. But no, I will not kill you. You have a mighty body that seems to mend itself. Even after Gilgamesh crushed your hand into an unusable lump. Itzcóatl made sure to report that after witnessing your other encounters with my guardians,” said the Skeleton Lord. He continued, “My intention with you is to use you as a wellspring of power for me to draw upon. Tell me, has your generation created a device for such empowering circumstances? Or do things like the glass tablet still need mana or soulbindings?” “...You mean a battery?” said Marvelous Man. The Skeleton Lord mused, “Battery?...Battery, battery, battery...a funny name, but it also sounds simple. Yes, you shall serve as my battery. I am still not at my fullest of forms and require more energy. I might not be able to attain lust energy from you, but there are other ways I can obtain what I need from you.” He knelt down to Marvelous Man’s ear; his breath spraying a putrid warmness. Marvelous Man’s head bent away in a futile attempt to keep any sort of distance between the supervillain. The musclebound superhero could sense the disgusting lips almost touching. “And while I would love to, su-su-su-su, sip on your fear, fear energy is but a droplet. And when my name was known to all living, I drank oceans,” slurped the Skeleton Lord. Standing straight up, the Skeleton Lord walked towards Marvelous Man’s burly arm. His exposed hand dragged across the muscle demigod’s shoulder, while his withdrawn hand came out of the red cloak with a curved knife crafted of bone. He declared, “Let’s start with your blood.” Marvelous Man’s eyes went wide, as he struggled. With his extremities bounded, the hulking bodybuilder could only sway his hips about in a feeble attempt to move away. The only thing that moved from the squirming was the bulge in his thin, battle bikini; lewdly flopping around. He knew now was not the right time to escape, but he did not want to be cut. Lowering the bone knife, the Skeleton Lord dragged the blade across Marvelous Man’s inner forearm. The overly-muscular superhero closed his eyes and winced; bracing for pain. As the knife slid down the forearm, it could only press into the skin without actually breaking it. The Skeleton Lord held up the bone knife for a closer examination upon discovering the failed incision. Marvelous Man slowly opened his eyes; wondering if the deed had been done. He expected it to really hurt, but it felt like he was being cut with a child’s plastic butter knife. Looking over at the supposed cut, he then breathed a sigh of relief. “It appears that without Gilgamesh’s strength, I cannot pierce through your baby-soft skin. Though I should not be surprised, since I failed to impale you the first time we met,” sighed the Skeleton Lord. Marvelous Man’s eyes flicked with confusion, “I’m...sorry?” The muscle demigod was not sure how to take the Skeleton Lord’s comment. It could be worded as a compliment, but the supervillain said it with a disappointed tone. And with Marvelous Man’s innate sense to help people, he could not help but offer an apology. “It’s alright. Though I do appreciate you being a good sport about this,” said the Skeleton Lord, “I’m afraid with your constitution, turning your blood into energy is out of the question. And you would most likely be resistant to flesh absorption magic. Alas, I suppose we will have to resort to the backup plan.” Marvelous Man held his breath. He desperately hoped the backup plan did not involve killing him. What the hulking bodybuilder did hope for was just being raped by tentacles and milked for lust energy like Gene probably would have been if kidnapped first. At this current point, Marvelous Man wished for anything but death. “And that entails having your life energy drained. You’ll barely be able to wiggle a finger, but you will still live and be stuck here as my battery,” explained the supervillain. The Skeleton Lord looked away, “I am sure he will survive. We perfected it on...what did they call themselves? Drug addicts? He can heal himself. It will be fine.” Marvelous Man glanced at where the ancient evil was staring at but saw nothing. The musclebound superhero now felt uneasy. The Skeleton Lord was already crazy for trying to destroy the world, but it became more apparent of how mentally unstable the supervillain really was. “Itzcóatl!” called the Skeleton Lord. A man’s voice immediately responded. Marvelous Man could not see him but knew the stranger came from behind the Skeleton Lord. He replied, “Yes, my lord.” “Bring me the bowl,” commanded the ancient evil. Turning his attention back to Marvelous Man, the Skeleton Lord resumed turning the muscle demigod into a living battery. The Skeleton Lord walked towards the hulking bodybuilder’s waist while dragging his unarmed hand over the valleys of muscle. Marvelous Man shuttered from the cold, tickling sensation. As the ancient evil reached the bodybuilder’s waist, he crept his molesting hand across the cobblestone abs and underneath the American flag bikini. The Skeleton Lord then grabbed the battle bikini’s side and yanked it up. With the bone knife still in his other hand, he held it underneath the gripped elastic fabric. The Skeleton Lord tugged the blade back with a quick jerk. The threads of the bikini showed no resistant; cleanly cut through by the bone knife with a quick ripping sound. With one part of it cut, the supervillain reached over to the other side of the bikini to repeat the procedure. The result was the same, as the Skeleton Lord began to peel away the sliced battle bikini in a almost ceremonious fashion. The last remnants of Marvelous Man’s clothing fell to the floor without making a sound; leaving the musclebound superhero exposed with his super package drooping in the air. Marvelous Man would feel humiliated if he were not used to having his clothes destroyed. The actual humiliation he had been feeling was being captured and helpless to the Skeleton Lord’s desires. The supervillain chuckled, “I thought it was possible you were stuffing your briefs, but I have been proven wrong. This is surely another reason if anyone else were to inherit your name as the Marvelous Man, hehe. Most impressive as a display of manhood...but I highly doubt you could sow your seed into a woman with a club such as that. And with a man of your stature, the babe would surely kill her in childbirth.” “Thanks...I guess,” said Marvelous Man. The muscle demigod felt at a loss for what to do. The Skeleton Lord’s actions felt confusing and terrifying. Struggling to prioritize, Marvelous Man tried to focus on what needed to be done. He needed more information for Gene and the D.A.B., and he needed to escape. There was no way he could fight the Skeleton Lord on his own. Unless...he tried to poison the Skeleton Lord with his own dark ability. He could keep the ancient evil incapacitated by reactivating every wound the Skeleton Lord had. It may be damaging to the superhero’s psyche, but it was the only thing he could think of. But with Marvelous Man’s current predicament, the supervillain would instantly see it and kill without hesitation. The Skeleton Lord might not be able to pierce his skin, but the supervillain might be able to do other things to kill him without damaging hulking bodybuilder’s epidermis. The most probable time to strike would have to be right when the draining begins. The only problem to the breakout rides upon the Skeleton Lord’s assistant being in the presence of the energy drain. The unseen man might have an ability to stop or kill the musclebound superhero. Marvelous Man figured that would have to wait until the opportunity arises. The overly-muscular superhero spotted something materializing next to the Skeleton Lord. The figment had transformed into a man with skin shaded as dark as mocha. His clothing was simple: a loincloth with a knot formed at the front and a hoodless cloak. Both fabrics were colored in red and outlined with teal. The colored apparel reminded Marvelous Man of the Aztec paintings of its people illustrated in the high school textbooks. Adorned on his head was a wooden headdress mask carved to look like a snake. In his hands, he carried a blue kitchen bowl. He spoke, “I have brought the bowl, my lord.” “Wonderful,” said the Skeleton Lord. The bone knife the ancient evil wielded dissolved into a whisping darkness before dissipating into nothingness. Turning to the Aztec-like man, the Skeleton Lord dipped his index and middle finger into the bowl. The supervillain stood there for a second before swiveling his body back towards Marvelous Man. Marvelous Man could see the dipped fingers coated in a red liquid, as the Skeleton Lord began applying the substance. It appeared that the supervillain was drawing something on him. Feeling that he was now on good relations with the supervillain, the musclebound superhero figured now was a good time to begin the interrogation. He gathered the courage to speak up, while the Skeleton Lord was busy finger-painting his massive body. He started, “So...is he your fourth guardian?” “Itzcóatl? Yes, he is. He is the vengeful hunter and my most loyal guardian. The other three joined me out of fear, honor-bound, and misguided whimsy that became shame. But Itzcóatl joined me for the sake of bloodlust,” clarified the Skeleton Lord. Marvelous Man felt it was a good start. This could be useful for Gene and the Demonic Authority Bureau to know, but it might not be enough to devise a countermeasure. He had to press on for more information; especially with the guardian’s ability to reappear anywhere. He questioned, “So what can he do? Teleport?” “It would be a godsend if he could. But alas, no. It is a tad more basic for a hunter like him,” hummed the Skeleton Lord. It did not seem like Marvelous Man would get anymore answers regarding Itzcóatl. If he persisted, the Skeleton Lord might lose his good favor. It was time to change topic. The hulking bodybuilder inquired, “Oh...what are you painting on me?” “I suppose it would not hurt me to tell you. I am scribing runes on you to act as a sort of...safeguard. When there is only the last drop of your life energy in you, this will activate and protect you. I do not wish for you to die an early death, after all,” said the Skeleton Lord. He looked away, “Yes, I’m sure I’m doing it right. The last few survived before we ended their miserable existence.” Marvelous Man thought back to what the Skeleton Lord said earlier. The supervillain managed to perfect something by the implication of testing it on the drug addicts. His thoughts then turned to the corpses downstairs. All the dead bodies seemed to show signs of drug abuse and probable supernatural magic for hallucinogenic purposes. There was also the recent runic designs painted onto their skin. Had they been guinea pigs for perfecting the runic safeguard? “Uh, okay. So how are you doing that bone stuff and all of this? I don’t see you using spells or magic circles. So how do you do it?” asked Marvelous Man. The Skeleton Lord moved towards Marvelous Man’s head and began to apply the red substance on the superhero’s face. The scent of the liquid paint became apparent to the muscle demigod, while the ancient evil drew runic symbols. It smelled like iron; a pungent odor that caused Marvelous Man to instantly recognize what the red paint truly was. Just like in the abandoned subway, it was blood. The supervillain replied, “That. Is a secret.” Marvelous Man was not sure how much time he had left before the preparations for his energy drain were complete. He could feel the blood on his upper body and face still wet on his skin. The hulking bodybuilder began to feel frustrated, as the Skeleton Lord moved towards his legs. None of the answers he could get did not give a direct answer towards a weakness or an element the D.A.B. could use to their advantage. Once Marvelous Man escapes, the ancient evil will flee to another location and become impossible to find. “Then...what destroyed your purpose? That’s what you said to me last time, right? What caused you to want to...turn the world into ash?” he said. The Skeleton Lord froze. Slowly turning to stare at Marvelous Man, the musclebound superhero felt a fearful chill coursing through. He hissed, “Do you think you could save me? That by trying to understand me, I will weep seas of tears and change my ways? Hmmm?” A tentacle grew from the ceiling of whisping darkness and lashed out. It coiled around Marvelous Man’s neck; strangling with the crushing strength of a python. The hulking bodybuilder tried gasping for air but could only gurgle. “All those priests and shamans that came alone in an attempt to consult me...saying the same thing. And I told them all the same thing. I. DO. NOT. CARE. I refuse to accept any change! I refuse to let my family go! I do not care that my power perverts the cycle of life and death! I was happy when everything stayed the same!...I wasn’t alone,” he shouted. The Skeleton Lord continued, “Time magic is impossible. No god, devil, or otherworldly would accept my requests. And you so-called heroes. You heroes were the cause of everything to fall apart! Always chasing and killing anything to bring glory to your name! You all made me like this! You destroyed my world! My happiness! My family!!! So that is why my purpose was destroyed! That is why I will destroy all existence!” Marvelous Man continued to struggle for breath, while his bounded body shook. He could hear his heartbeat throbbing in his head. The world felt like it was being enveloped by the Skeleton Lord’s darkness. “...My lord,” said Itzcóatl. Seconds past before the smoky tentacle relented. The tendril retreated back into the darkness covering the ceiling, while releasing its grip from around Marvelous Man’s throat. The hulking bodybuilding coughed; flooding his lungs with as much air as he could. The Skeleton Lord turned back to the overly-muscular legs and resumed painting runic symbols. The supervillain cleared his throat, “My apologies. My...passions carried me away.” Marvelous Man did not dare speak again after regaining the his breath. He allowed the Skeleton Lord to carry on painting in silence for the next few minutes, as the musclebound superhero started his escape plan. Marvelous Man closed his eyes; focusing on his fear of death, his helplessness without anybody to save him, and the hatred he wanted to feel towards the Skeleton Lord. He could feel the poison within him stirring. It wanted to feed on the negativity and hurt those who hurt the muscle demigod. After the painting was completed a minute later, the Skeleton Lord walked over to Marvelous Man’s head. He placed his bony fingers around the bodybuilder’s cranium; gripping the head gently. The Skeleton Lord slowly exhaled, as the fourth guardian placed the bowl of blood on the ground. A green aura began to glow from the Skeleton Lord’s hands and vibrate against Marvelous Man’s skull. Seeing the light, the musclebound superhero figured the draining had begun. Now was the moment to strike! Marvelous Man commanded the blackness within him to strike. The poison obliged and fed the harbored negativity. His head glowed its own dark, whisping aura; whispering its dark secrets in a hushed voice. Upon contacting the Skeleton Lord’s glowing hands, it analyzed the ancient evil’s medical history. Whatever element was helping the Skeleton Lord to be easily mended after suffering obliterating attacks had now disappeared. He was now lethally vulnerable. Mortal. The history of the supervillain’s injuries was endless. Many times did it receive deathly blows and reactivating those old wounds would instantly kill the Skeleton Lord to the extent of being atomized. There was also mental trauma, but few had healed or remained repressed. Something else caught Marvelous Man’s attention. Within the Skeleton Lord, there existed two more beings. One was a horse, but it seemed to be anchored to the equine skull bulging underneath the supervillain’s red hood. The other seemed broken at a first glance, but a continued look at it revealed it was incomplete. The strange entity seemed to have the quality of a familiar imp but it was still different. The musclebound superhero needed the poison to analyze it more; it was an odd curiosity. Marvelous Man then felt a tingling sensation in his head; similar to a pins and needles tingling whenever there was low blood circulation. The musclebound superhero cursed at his error. He had been distracted for too long that his energy was already being drained. Marvelous Man commanded the poison to reactivate all of the Skeleton Lord’s old wounds. The muscle demigod felt no response from the blackness; only the increasing tingling sensation traveling down his neck. A terrible realization hit the hulking bodybuilder. The poison he sent out had been absorbed into energy for the Skeleton Lord. As a last ditch effort, Marvelous Man commanded the light within himself to shine as bright as it could. He could feel the pins and needles tingling now encompassed his humongous pectorals, while the light obeyed. The light glowed, but it too had become affected by the supervillain’s energy drain. Its brightness was less intense than the room’s candlelight. The muscle demigod’s illumination could only keep lit for a few seconds before being absorbed; fueling the Skeleton Lord even further. With his last window of opportunity shut before him, Marvelous Man felt at loss of what to do now. It became harder to breathe, as his meaty chest was now paralyzed and can no longer heave or flex. The draining process has currently spread the tingling sensation over his abdomen; shallowing the bodybuilder’s breathing even further. The muscle demigod’s body gave off one last act of reflexive defiance against the energy drain. It engorged its sexual muscle with as much blood as it could. The defiant penis throbbed with life; straining to reach the ceiling and flexing its large veins hidden underneath the skin. As the energy drain passed over the rebellious erection, it could only momentarily stand proud before crumbling and losing all vigor to the Skeleton Lord’s hideous action. It would now only take seconds before the hulking bodybuilder’s overly-muscular legs to be taken over. Marvelous man’s thighs flexed wildly in a sad attempt to shake off the drain’s progress, until the paralyzing effect had fully struck. “I had expected your giant body to have double or perhaps triple the amount of energy a common man would have,” spoke the Skeleton Lord, “But you...you have so much more. I had expected a rich well and have found a lake. I wonder if the legendary Mana Stones had this much power in them?” Marvelous Man could not reply even if he had wanted to. His vocal cords had long been overcomed by the nefarious energy drain, and the pins and needles sensation had now reached his toes. The mighty superhero was now completely powerless. Too weak to move any muscle, and the dwindling hope of being rescued had been buried. “Rejoice, hero. For I will not have to prey on any miscreants outside of this city’s security for sustenance. I only need you for energy. Be happy at your newfound purpose, my Mana Stone. My battery,” taunted the Skeleton Lord. The hulking bodybuilder stared up at his captor; trying to catch a glimpse at the Skeleton Lord’s face. The ancient evil still had the red hood casting a shadow and shielding any sort of facial recognition. Marvelous Man tried to feel furious at how he could never see the supervillain’s true face, but his senses began to skew. The room felt like it had started to spin, while his mind felt dizzy. His vision began to blacken; just like when he was strangled. Sweat perspired all over the muscle demigod’s body, while his skin had taken on a clammy texture. The painted runes began to glow a dim red light that slowly grew in intensity. Marvelous Man struggled a final thought before losing consciousness. He prayed, “Papa, mom, dad...I’m sorry. I failed. I’m so scared...I don’t want to die here.” Next Chapter
  25. godofjurai

    Symbiotic Bonding - Part 05

    Please don't hate me! This one is a bit shorter then previous parts, but Part 6 will be a much longer installment. Also the hate me part will prob come from where I stopped, but if you guys read the original transcript, I'm pretty sure your going to be begging me for the next part! Previous Parts: -Part 01 - Part 02 - Part 03 - Part 04 - Part 5 The Experiment Matt continues to feel weak for several minutes. His mind drifting in and out of consciousness as Andrew’s apology rings throughout his head. He slowly comes to his senses; eyes popping suddenly wide open. Matt sits up, groaning, feeling completely awful. “What the hell just happened?” Matt muttered under his breath. He slowly pushes himself off the floor from between Andrew’s legs. Standing up on shaky legs, Matt staggers away toward the bathroom, having to reach down several times to pull up his shorts. When he finally reaches the sink he hesitates at first before looking into the mirror. What he sees makes his blood run cold. Matt is clearly shorter then what he was before, and his muscles, while still large, are no longer the huge size they were minutes ago. Where his head used to reach to the top of the mirror – now it’s a good four inches lower. He snorts in aggravation, walking over to the scale. As he steps onto it the hand flies to the right, landing on 250lbs. He couldn’t believe it; just last week he stood at 300 lbs. Matt closes his eyes for a moment, trying to think. Something sparks. His mouth dropping as he opens his eyes and spins around heading back to where his brother sat on the couch. “Andrew, I think I know what’s going on. But we need to test it to see if I am right. Andrew looks at Matt confused. “Umm, Ok?” “Something in our cum is doing something to us… Something weird…” Matt turns from his brother, walking into the kitchen, coming back with a pair of cups. He hands one of them down to Andrew. “I want you to jerk off into this, and I’ll do the same with my cup. And when we are finished, we’ll each drink the cum and we will see what happens.” It’s an insane plan, beyond ridiculous actually. But something in the back of Matt’s mind tells him he needs to know if this is what is really going on between them. Andrew continues to look up at Matt from the couch, confused. He’s still shirtless and just in his boxers from the previous encounter, his cock pulled to the left and held tightly in place when his cock begins to twitch a bit in excitement. Andrew also has a feeling that their cum is the cause what is happening to them too. “I don’t think that is a good idea, Matt. I mean, I think this might cause another change.” “I think so too.” Matt looks a bit nervous, but he doesn’t care. “That’s why we need to test it. We have to know if it’s the cum or something else. I have a very good feeling it is our cum that is doing this to us… As crazy as that sounds.” Matt takes his cup and pulls out his cock right in front of Andrew, holding It right above the lip. Closing his eyes he strokes his large piece of meat. Matt can feel it is smaller then what it was, and Andrew notices just by looking it isn’t the massive 10 inch monster he used to be so proud of. Matt’s Legendary 10 inches has been reduced to a generous 8 ½. Matt pumps it slowly methodically, holding it in one hand and the cup in the other. As Matt strokes himself off, Andrew takes notice of other things. His brother’s shirt is no longer as tight as it used to bel the oversized garment hangs loosely off his still-muscular, but significantly-smaller frame. Andrew hesitates at first, but slowly peels the front of his underwear down. His 5 ½ inch cock popping out free, along with his new, massive forest of dark pubic fur. He reaches down, wrapping his hand around his cock, putting the plastic cup between his legs. The head of his cock over the top of the cup as he begins to jerk off his own member. It feels so good in his hand; it’s the first time he has really taken notice to his new size. It’s the first time he’s actually got to handle his own cock this much since this whole ordeal started. Andrew looks up at Matt, noticing his brother looking right at him intently working his own cock over. “Are you ok, Matt?” Matt begins to stroke his dick harder as he looks on at Andrew. Both of them gazing at each other in a somewhat lust and desire. Matt pumping his meat with gusto. With a loud grunt, he exhales, shoots, pumping his load into his cup. Matt breathes heavily as he strokes the remaining dollops of cum from the inside of his shaft, squeezing it and making sure he got every last drop out of it. “Doing just fine, Andrew. Just studying your body. I want to see how you do when you drink this. I’m guessing you’re going to do very, very well.” Matt smiles ruefully down at Andrew. Making magic cum is fine and all, but if his balls churn out this magic growth-cum, why does he keep shrinking? His suspicion, of course, but it’s about to either be confirmed or proven wrong. Andrew continues to look over Matt as he too continued to stroke his own dick. He begins to feel his balls churn, pull up. Andrew leans forward, grabbing the cup between his legs. “Oh FUCK!” He grunts as he shoots, and shoots… and SHOOTS… Andrew begins to pant between his grunts as he doesn’t feel his cock stopping until he fills the cup a bit more then ½ way full. Andrew looks back up at Matt, a quizzical look on his face. Matt’s cup doesn’t have nearly as much as Andrew’s contained. “Uh, you don’t have to drink all of it, Matt.” Matt takes a step forward, handing his brother his cup of spunk that he just produced, taking the cup that Andrew was holding and just filled up. “No sense being a wuss about it now,” Matt said in his old cocky voice. Placing the cup at his lips, he tips it back and chugs the entire thick fluid down. Matt winces, feeling his body react to the bitter substance. The familiar feeling of weakness coming over him again and making him feel… less… than he was before. Andrew just sits back, watching in horror. The cup of Matt’s cum still in his hand as he watches on as Matt begins to shrink right in front of him. For the first time, they can both see what effect Andrew’s cum has over his brother. Andrew puts the cup of cum on the coffee table, getting up, wrapping his arms around his shrinking sibling. “Fuck Matt!” His arms shifting around his brother’s body as Matt’s lats collapse inward slightly. He begins to descend slightly in height. Matt’s body is wobbly as he leans into Andrew for support as his muscular legs feel weaker as he compacts an inch all over his entire body as his body mass loses 10 more lbs of muscle. And his cock, slowly retracting to 8 inches. He clutches onto Matt’s body more tightly. “I can’t drink it, bro!” Matt trembles for a moment, then wraps his own arms around his twin. He’s still bigger, still stronger then Andrew. But he’s quite a bit smaller than he was before. “You’ve got to, Andrew. We need to know. And hey, it’s not so bad, right? If my cum works like I think it does, you’ll get bigger, not smaller. That’s not so bad, is it?” Matt smiles down at Andrew, sadness in his eyes as he knows there is no going back, the only thing they can do now is move forward as he bends his neck down and places a soft kiss on Andrew’s lips. “Come on. Just drink it. It won’t hurt you. A hundred bucks says you’ll feel better afterwards.” He looks at Andrew seriously, and Andrew can see that Matt really wants him to drink down his seed. Andrew hesitates, moves over to the table, and picks up the cup. He lifts it up to his lips, his eyes never breaking contact with Matt as he pushed the cup back and feels the warm salty cocktail that Matt made produced from his manhood slide down his throat. Andrew’s eyes open wide as he drops the cup. A feeling of warmth washing over his entire body as he begins to breathe harder, grunting in pleasure. His body tingling as Matt’s seed begins to fuel his muscles. Andrew’s entire skeletal structure shifts and pops, growing upward and broader as his bones grow to accommodate the incoming new size. His body gaining another inch in height. Andrew’s muscles tense all over, throbbing gently, growing bigger with each pulse of his heart beat as 10 pounds of muscle packs onto him. A moan escapes his lips as his cock and balls tremble and jerk as they bloat a bit larger, fuller, more potent. His dick becoming rock hard, looking a bit over 6 inches now, jutting a bit further out from his forest of pubes he’d grown. “Fuck, it does work!” Matt watches in awe. His clothes even looser as he sees the boxers around Andrew’s thighs pulling even tighter. “We can’t do this anymore,” Andrew pants, breathing hard after this new dramatic growth that they now both know what the actual cause is now. “You’re going to keep shrinking, Matt. And it just feels like the world is changing. I can’t get bigger then you, Matt.” The look in Matt’s eyes though seems to tell Andrew more of what’s going on in his brother’s head. If it wasn’t for his facial expressions, Andrew could easily tell what Matt was thinking by his brother’s growing cock after seeing him change a bit. “Are you fucking kidding?” Matt said, finally back to his normal demeanor as he tossed his empty cup aside. “I have the power to make you bigger, stronger… tougher. Why wouldn’t we do that? I don’t need to drink your cum. Fine. No reason though why you can’t drink mine though!” He looks down at his dick, noting it has boned up to its full hardness again. Matt steps closer, pulling off his shirt and tosses it aside. His torso is still beautifully-muscled, but no longer has its prior impressive size. It’s also completely smooth, missing the carpet of masculine fur that once covered it. He tenses his pecs and abs slowly, making the muscle bulge under his skin. Slapping his flexed abs, striking them like a drum. “Come on, Andrew. You saying you don’t want to get a bit bigger? A bit stronger? A bit sexier?” Matt’s voice trails off into a seductive growl. Andrew places his hand on Matt’s smooth pec, not having to look up as much anymore to see his brother’s face. “I don’t Matt. You make me feel comfortable. I don’t want to lose what we are gaining back after all these years.” Andrew wraps his arms around Matt in a hug. “We need to stop this all together. No more blow jobs. No experimenting. No fucking. If our size difference continues to shift, I won’t see you as my big lug of a hunk brother anymore.” Andrew shifts his eyes downward, looking a bit depressed. “I just wish there was a way we can continue to play without the risk…” To Be Continued… Coming Soon Part 06: Risk Takers
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